Lady Karma and a Brucie Bonus

Morning All

Brewood

I bet you're loving this warm, sunny Bank Holiday weekend. Was there ever such lovely weather for the August holiday in living memory? The sun is warm but not scorching, there is the merest hint of a breeze and the puffy white clouds scud through the bluest of skies - everyone should be happy and smiling on such a lovely day. Right? What could possibly go wrong on a day like this?

We shall see...

Tixall Wide

After a wonderful few weeks on the River Witham, we've been hurrying over to Shropshire for our autumn cruise and thought we could easily make it to Brewood for Bank Holiday Sunday, where I had arranged to meet my daughter, Claire. Foolishly, we lingered in Alrewas, pottered through Fradley and then found we had to step on it to get to our destination in time. All went well until we reached Penkridge, then our luck ran out. We were following our friends on the Naga Queen and arranged to tie up together at Bogg's Lock. We were just a short cruise away from a sunny mooring and a pleasant afternoon of boaty chatter with our friends, Pat and Malc when Lady Karma hove into view. Somewhere between the first two locks, a flurry of boaters finished their lunch and pulled out between Naga Queen and us. We found ourselves queueing behind several boats and arrived two cups of tea behind them - so that is my excuse for our rather urgent behaviour on Sunday morning. We heard the lock paddles being raised at the nearby Boggs Lock and set off quickly towards the next lock, nipping in front of them and awaking Lady Karma, who got straight on the blower to the Canal Gods to warn them that The Chandlers were on the move. We reached the interesting tower at Gailey and set off towards the Shroppie feeling a little smug (beware the Mountain of Smug!) to have got through the two locks so quickly. We'd left our travelling companions behind today – they were eating their breakfast on the sunny bank and waved us off with a promise to meet up after the weekend. Pat and Malc are much too wise to think about moving on a Bank Holiday Sunday and we should have know better too as it wasn't long before Lady Karma arrived to remind us that it's no earthly use being in a hurry when you're boating. We chugged along the canal, past the chemical works, to find a boat jammed solid on the offside. The father and three children were on their first narrowboat holiday and had politely pulled over to let a boat pass and then found their stern jammed solid on the silt. We took up a rope and gave our Lady full throttle, which usually has the desired affect, but nothing happened. The added thrust of the father on their barge pole produced no results - still stuck. Just when we'd run out of ideas, the rather portly father left the stern and went to the bows and jumped ashore leaving his young son on the tiller and with a little creak, the boat floated off the silt and began to chug away with the little son grinning happily to be left in charge. Dad was stranded on the bank and the two young girls in the bows are beginning to panic, but the young steerer did a great job and took the boat in to collect his father and, with all crew present, they chugged off. Well done Captain Carl - that was our good deed for the day.

But Lady Karma hadn't finished with us yet. She sent the thing that ticks us off the most - a boater that waits until he sees the whites of our eyes before pulling out in front of us and then creeping along so slowly that we're continually in danger of running into the back of him. This chap saw us coming and pulled out anyway, a cardinal sin in our book! We're not usually in a hurry so we rarely pass other boats, preferring to pull over and have a cuppa but today we did rather want to get on so I hailed him from the bows and asked him if we could come by. He waved us on and slowed to let us by but then speeded up sneakily forcing Captain Carl to throttle up to get by, but we soon left him behind and carried on enjoying the sunny day. We were happily waving to the everyone along the way, loving the sights and sounds of the canal and the countryside. I was busy clicking away with my camera trying to capture the beauty of this magical morning; the trees dappling the water with shade; the ripe barley fields stretching into the distance; a horse and rider crossing a pretty bridge. We slipped through the bridge and panicked a hire boater coming the other way. He slammed his boat into hard reverse, grounded on the silt and his bows came swinging across to meet us. Carl managed to avoid them by going hard astern and it was then we heard an ominous thud. The hire boat waved a thank you to us and went on their way, but we could only limp along with something snagged on the prop. Now we're in a quandary – if we pull in, the slow boat will overtake us again but we couldn't really carry on with the prop fouled so we switched off and drifted along while Carl got down into the weed hatch to try and clear it before he could catch us up. It took some shifting as it was a fisherman's landing net but somehow Carl managed to get it off and replace the weed hatch before the slow boater had the chance to gloat at our misfortune.

Lady Karma had one more trick up her sleeve to test our stamina - a fishing match. A long line of rods and a gauntlet of glum faces as our passage forced them to either dismantle their rods or raise them up and over the boat till we were safely clear of their paraphernalia. I went below and made the coffee and left Carl to call out a cheery greeting to each and every one of the Sunday maggot danglers. They rarely answer but we think it annoys them when we smile and wave!

I'm making humble apologies to Lady Karma tonight in the hope that she'll smile on us tomorrow - I do hope she smiles on you too

Love and hugs as always

The Floating Chandlers

Ps We reached Brewood in good time and Lady Karma was kind and saved us a mooring space.

Pps Claire took me for a spin in her VW Beetle, Bruce – I was warmer this time and rather enjoyed pulling up outside the Co-op in such grand style. It was a bit low slung though so I could have done with an ejector seat to get me out. Not so cool after all!  

Heron

Carl and blue sky

Dappled sun on the Shroppie

Naga Queen coming up Penkridge Lock

Beautiful Bridge on the Shroppie

Drones and Drunks

Sunny walk at Stoke Lock

Morning you lovely people

Almost as soon as we set foot on the Trent and Mersey Canal on Friday, I remembered just why we scarpered off up the Witham in the first place! There are boats everywhere since we arrived back at Shardlow on Friday, hire boats, share boats, shiny boats, cruisers and canoes - you name it, everyone's out making the most of summer, in between the showers. Although we have made the trip down the Trent several times now, it's always a relief to get back on the canals. Tricky is very happy to be back on the canals too - neither of us liked the floating pontoon moorings much - they rock as you walk along them and Tricky had trouble working out which way to go to find the grass. We've resumed our morning routine of a brisk walk along the towpath while Carl chugs along behind – this makes us both very happy. Right now, we are moored by the tow-path in Burton and she just has to hop over the gunwale to find as much grass as a little dog needs - if she was any happier she might wag her tail!

Stoke Lock 

We took a marina mooring in Newark for a couple of nights last weekend and had the luxury of an electric hookup and our own water tap. It was a novelty to be able to boil the electric kettle and use the immersion heater but it soon wore off . I was soon tired of the view too - a huge red and white Dutch barge blocked all the light from our port side windows and a navy blue narrowboat moored to our starboard. It was nice walk into town from the Marina so I left Carl fitting a new kitchen tap and went shopping to avoid any chance of making a helpful suggestion that might lead to a row. When you've been married for a few years, you learn to spot the danger signs and so I took myself and my sarcasm to the 'Secret Garden' coffee shop and everyone was happy.

Floating Pontoon - Tricky's puzzled

The sun was shining as we came out of Gunthorpe Lock on Monday and we motored on under the road bridge and down the sparkling river towards Stoke Lock with our fingers crossed for a space on the floating pontoon for the night. We were chugging along, enjoying the sun and minding our own business when a couple of drones flew along the river towards us. They hovered just overhead, zooming backwards and forwards and filming us as we went along. It was very annoying, the noise and the spying eyes in the sky, the way they followed us along, circling around the boat and watching us. I bet I'm on someone's YouTube channel, scowling and frowning like Victor Meldrew - I was wishing I had a catapult so I could shoot the blasted thing down! My good humour was restored when we reached Stoke Lock to find that we had the whole place to ourselves – not a single boat anywhere.

Windy in Shardlow

It was a sharp contrast to be plunged into the heart of Nottingham city the next night – the traffic noise was interrupted by a woman continually calling her dog. I think his name was Hugo or HHHHHuuuuuugggggoooo which she yelled repeatedly right by my cabin porthole where I was deeply engrossed in the latest Scarpetta autopsy. Naughty dog Hugo didn't come in and she wandered backwards and forwards yelling his name at the top of her voice until, finally, the rain came – thank goodness.

Swarkestone Lock

When Carl and I decided to take the train from Nottingham to visit my Mum, I thought about the train being packed to the rafters with holiday makers but then how bad could it be? It's only a short trip, 20 mins or so and Tricky likes trains and sits nicely without bothering anyone which is more than could be said for the two middle aged beer swilling stinkers behind us who proceeded to gas the crowded carriage out with their bodily functions. I wasn't expecting such behaviour on the early train out of Nottingham! We were all very British about it - everyone ignored the belching and swearing and the trolley steward got on their good side by finding them the largest can of lager available for their £3.30. I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn't going all the way to Skeggy with that delightful pair! The train trip was soon forgotten - I had a lovely day with Mum, her garden is looking a treat and so is she. We sat outside watching the house martins swooping over the roof and I took a selfie of us which made us both giggle.

Mum and me

Travelling from Shardlow to our mooring tonight in Burton-upon-Trent, I'm reminded of our first boat, Moonshine. When we were both still working, and could only get away at weekends to cruise, we went up and down the Trent and Mersey - Alrewas one week end and Shardlow the next. Ten years later and we're still loving our boating life just as much now as we did then - I feel so lucky. I don't know why I'm moaning on to you about drones and drunks when I should be writing about the beauty that is all around us as we cruise along the canal. I rolled the cover up this morning and found a little newt sheltering there from the rain - he wasn't keen on moving either, but in the end we persuaded him to catch a ride on the shovel back to the safety of the long grass. We find all sorts of wildlife under the cratch cover in the mornings and caterpillars hitch a ride inside on your shoe, spiders are partying in every corner and I expect to see the Daddy Long-legs any day now. Have you noticed that the hedgerows are suddenly bursting with red berries? The hawthorn, especially, is preparing a feast for the birds as they start to gather on the wires ready for their long flight south. It's too soon for autumn, I need another burst of summer before I get my jumpers out of storage!

It's raining again folks – Carl got the paint out this afternoon but as soon as he went outside to start the sanding down, the clouds gathered and the rain began to fall. Oh well, there's always tomorrow. Have a lovely week my dear friends and I'll write again next week.

Lots of love and hugs

The Floating Chandlers

ps I've had a few enquiries about 'The bird that must not be named' - Carl was referring to the Kingfisher of course (I got it wrong too - I thought he was talking about the shag!)

Holme Pierrepont

The Bird You Cannot Mention and the Feather Duster

Out on the Trent - catching the tide to Cromwell

Hello. As I write this I am enjoying a bag of Tavener's American Hard Gums. I do like these sweets, although they are not as hard as they used to be.

P.S. I nearly forgot, here are the jottings.

This week we have enjoyed a continuation of showers (occasional, some heavy and persistent), wind (constant, always a bloody nuisance) and enticing sunshine (pleasant in a coat-removing sort of way).Tuesday was different though. We woke early to the sound of hammering on our cabin roof. Eventually I conceded that this wasn't part of a dream. Removing a porthole cover, I peered, bleary-eyed, at a chilly, grey world and at the rain lashing down. Then I got up and made Linda and me a cup of coffee, the first of many that day!

At around 11.00 a huge work-boat with a crane on it chugged passed us. We saw nothing else moving for the rest of the day. I half expected to see the Ark, but it didn't show.

The next day was drier and the forecast for Thursday was good, so we decided to move up through Lincoln to Torksey. Just after we had left Lincoln I noticed a little cruiser following us, which rapidly got closer. After a while I slowed down and waved for it to pass. Five minutes or so later I looked back, wondering why it hadn't gone by. Oddly, it seemed to be doing a boat version of "aimlessly milling about"; still following us at a short distance, but wandering from side to side. It was as if they had dropped something and were trying to find it again. Every now and again there would be a burst of speed, then they'd drop back again. Eventually they pulled into the side, got out and did a kind of a war-dance. Very strange. We just shrugged and left them to it.

I wasn't looking forward to the trip back to Cromwell as it would be a long day. The incoming tide would assist us some of the way, but there would still be a good distance to cover against the current when the tide turned. The lock-keeper advised us to leave Torksey between 09.45 and 11.45 on Thursday, so we dutifully chugged down to the lock at 09.30, and entered the lock shortly after. I asked the lock-keeper what the levels were like on the Trent. "Oh, there's about 6 foot of fresh", he shouted back. Then gates began to open. "6 foot of fresh", I was thinking. "It's a bloody good job we've got a good engine".

As we left the lock I noticed a stretch of weed, logs and other rubbish across the cut ahead of us. I put the engine in neutral and drifted through this barrier, as I didn't want any rubbish round the prop, especially when travelling up the tidal Trent with 6 foot of fresh on it.

All was fine for the first couple of hours. The tide carried us and we were travelling at a good rate of knots. Eventually the tidal flow slowed, stopped and then began to ebb. Consequently our progress slowed. I increased the engine revs and we picked up speed again, but gradually we were making less and less progress. The water being thrust out from the prop looked normal, there didn't seem to be any problem there, but something wasn't right.

Eventually we made it to Cromwell lock, but it had taken us well over four hours. We moored on the lock landing, waiting for the green light, and I wandered to the bows. And there I saw the reason we'd had such a battle. There was a sort of D.I.Y. garden centre caught around the bows. Amongst the acres of vegetation were various tree branches, rushes, water lilies, blanket weed, assorted river weed and a Walkers cheese and onion flavour crisp packet. We must have picked this lot up when we left Torksey and pushed it all the way here. The effect it had was the same as driving a car with the handbrake on.

It gave me great pleasure to attack this abomination with the boat hook. The only thing I was unable to retrieve was the crisp packet, though I removed a snickers bar wrapper that suddenly popped up out of nowhere.

Friday came, as it does, and we left mid-morning and made our way to Newark, where we moored in King's Marina. Compared to the day before our journey was good; we shot through the water like a speeding harpoon (please forgive a bit of poetic license). There was plenty to see on the way. The usual cormorants, ducks, swans and even one of those birds the name of which we are no longer permitted to speak of. You know the bird I mean.

Claire, Jason and Lyndsey visited us while we were in Kings Marina – we enjoyed having a hook-up for a couple of days but Tricky wasn't impressed – it was a long walk to find the grass. The weather was unseasonably pleasant – what a surprise! We left on Sunday for Farndon, hoping to moor on the pontoon there, but it was not to be. Some rotter had beaten us to it, so we turned the boat (always a kind of a wing and a prayer thing) with the intention of heading back to Newark. After turning, we spied a space on the private mooring outside the very posh Farndon Marina. After some remarkable manoeuvring (no one shouted at us) and having a bit of a chat with someone in the Marina office, which included handing over a small fee, we were granted permission to stay there. By 19.00 hours all the other boats on this pontoon had left and I was keen to turn our boat again, ready for the following day. There was plenty of room to manoeuvre and a fair current on the river, so I merely lengthened the bow line, released the stern line and pushed the stern out. The current took over and swung the boat round through 180 degrees, allowing me to tie the stern and shorten the bow line again. Text book stuff. And yea, I can now sit on the mountain of smug!

We are now moored at Stoke Bardolph, just a few short miles from Nottingham. And there you have it.

As you will probably have gathered, this weeks epistle is written by Carl – Linda will be back next week I expect.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

P.S. The above is the P.S.

P.P.S. Our feather duster got blown into the river on the way here today. It could worry people as it looks like a drowned parrot.

Sunset over the Power Station at Torksey

Cosy Boat

Torksey Mooring

Time for walkies!

Lincoln City Centre

The Glory Hole Lincoln

Very Windy on the Witham

Sunset at Fiskerton Fen

Morning all,

It's unusual for me to write on a Monday morning but I just couldn't get in the mood yesterday. We'd had a busy day on Saturday and when I sat down to write to you on Sunday, I kept dropping off. Boating does that to you, it's so relaxing that sometimes I find a whole day has gone by and I've done nothing except maybe walk the dog. Yesterday was just such a day - we walked the mile or so into Woodhall Spa and wandered through the woods to the quaintly named 'Tea House in the Woods'. It's nice to find a place where Tricky is welcome and she soon had an admiring audience of people wanting to say hello to her. She's embarrassingly aloof though and ignores everyone once she's checked that they don't have any treats. We settle down inside with our coffee and I read the potted history of the Tea House printed inside the menu and I'm informed that it dates back to 1903.(The Teahouse, not the menu). I first came here with my parents in the late fifties and I've got an old photo of Mum, Dad and we three little girls sitting outside the Tea House with our sarsaparilla or whatever passed for a treat in those innocent times. For some reason, I've got a kitten with me, which seems a little odd, but Mum can't remember why after all this time, so I guess it will forever remain a mystery.

We're moored at Fiskerton Fen today, I couldn't leave the Witham without making one last trip to the little bird hide on the pond nearby, hoping for another sighting of the Barn Owl. I've taken lots of photos of the wildlife on the Witham including a Grebe family that were almost always by our boat at Antons Gowt. I saw the little one hitching a ride on Mum's back several times and finally, early one morning, I opened the side hatch to find them within camera shot. I did manage to get that photo and I've downloaded it to my Twitter account where it hangs around with zillions of other photos. Will anyone look at it in 50 years time and wonder about the story behind the photo?

Grebe chick hitching a ride

We called in at Southrey on the way through, to pay another visit to the lovely little wooden church of St John the Divine. It's worth a trip if you're in the area - a very pretty church with some interesting stained glass panels. Its a fairly new church compared with the mighty Lincoln Cathedral nearby but it has been sympathetically restored and the interior is homely and welcoming. The visitors book shows that people from near and far are interested in this remote corner of Lincolnshire. I can't resist reading the comments – I'm so nosy!

Southrey Church

I can already feel the first hint of Autumn in the air. The lushness of summer has started to fade, the trees are dusty with the first hint of leaves turning brown and the blackberries, plump and luscious, beckon from the impenetrable heights of the bramble hedges, where only the birds can reach them. I'm looking forward to the damsons and apples which will be ripe by the time we get to the Shroppie, and Carl's looking forward to lots of crumbles! The weather's still on the breezy side, which would normally put the Captain in a bad mood if we were on the canals. Out here on the wide river, it's not so bad and we've had some memorable cruises through some squally conditions with our friends and family. Mostly, we go down to Boston and back, just for the pleasure of seeing the wonderful Boston Stump as we round the corner on the last stretch – it's a marvellous sight.

Boston Stump

We've enjoyed having so many visitors and it will be very quiet without you - we're still within hailing distance if anyone missed us and can make it to Lincoln. Tomorrow we'll stop off in the city so I can get to Marks and Spencers (weather permitting - it looks like it might be a bit grim according to the forecast) and we'll moor overnight in Saxilby on route to Torksey and then long trip back to Newark. I'm hoping that there are still some warm days left for our Autumn cruise. I can see that some of you are off enjoying your summer holidays, Facebook is full of beautiful beaches and sweaty people in bars – I'm not envious of those searing temperatures, this cool weather suits me fine as long as it keeps dry.

The sun is shining into the cabin and I'm happily tapping away with the dog at my feet and Carl reading in the chair next to me. I put a load of washing through the machine as we chugged along earlier and it's pegged up in the bows, flapping nicely in the breeze. There are freshly dug new potatoes and brown eggs collected from a farm we passed along the way and a nice piece of smoked haddock for tea. Have you dropped off to sleep while I've been wittering on about the housekeeping? Sorry, I do forgot sometimes why I write this letter every week, I'm supposed to be entertaining you. I'm sorry to say that I've sent so much time this week chattering to our visitors that I'm all talked out and I've only got some aimless witterings left for you so I'll sign off with my usual reminder to have a lovely week and I'll try and get my brain into gear for next week


Love and hugs as always from
The Floating Chandlers

Ps we met a black and white cat in the woods - he was carrying something in his mouth that looked suspiciously like a snake (either that or he had a Fu Manchu moustache!) - he raced off through the trees, heading for home I suspect, and I wondered how his owner would react when Tiddles arrived home with his catch.

Happy Days with Jean, Eric, Holly and Poppy - come again soon girls