Hedgerow Jottings: It's 1976 All Over Again!

Morning reflections

Morning Jotters

We’ve spent most of this week tied up on various floating pontoons, enjoying the weather and making the most of the beautiful river moorings between Stoke Bardolph and Newark. The plan was to potter down to Newark, spend a few days there then catch the tide to Torksey and onward to Boston. Unfortunately for us, the Trent is at an all time record low and so we have reluctantly, decided not to risk making the journey and finding ourselves marooned on the Witham, unable to escape until the levels rise. The gardeners amongst you will know that this is another incredibly dry year and there is no sign of any significant amounts of rain in the near future. If the rivers are running dry then I’m thinking that the canals may suffer the same fate - not great news for us. Apologies to our friends who were planning to meet us along the way but we will be spending the summer at home so hopefully, we’ll see you there.

Leaving Stoke Lock Visitor Mooring

Monday morning, up with the lark and Hey! Hey! Hey! It's a beautiful day! We walked Tricky along the riverbank before we set off and it was one of those perfect summer mornings, fluffy clouds and clear blue skies, a warm sun sparkling off the clear water and beautiful blossom perfuming the air. The early morning mist had cleared and a family of geese, with their newly hatched young, swam under the pontoon and then set sail for the distant shores, all in a neat line with an escort of quacking ducks. I watched them from the side hatch, which does make you feel part of their world. I can never resist feeding them and threw handfuls of porridge oats onto the fast flowing waters which wasn’t at all to their liking - in fact, I swear they turned their beaks up at it. I don’t think they have read the guidelines about bread being bad for them and the ducks squabbled furiously over 2 slices of Sainsbury’s stale wholemeal.

Just Hatched

We timed it just right as we approached Stoke Lock, the gates were open and a smart boat shot out at a good clip, heading for the open river. We entered the lock, tied up on the sliders and waited for the lock-keeper to pop his head over the side to take our number and have a chat. He was happy to see us as he hadn’t had a single boat through on Friday. We dropped down to the lower river level and set off towards Gunthorpe. We did meet an occasional boat as we headed downstream but mostly it was just us and the birds. The floating pontoon at Gunthorpe was temptingly empty but it was much too early to moor up so we continued on through the lock and down to Hazelford. I would like to have moored there but there wasn’t room so we continued on and found the pontoon mooring at Fiskerton was free. Whoopee - we’ve never been able to get on there before, Carl did a quick u-turn and we tied up right below the Bronley Arms - a great place to dine if you’re ever out this way. We sampled it on Tuesday when our friends Pat and Malc drove over to find us. We wandered along the riverbank before lunch, delighting in the views across the river and peeping into the gardens, bright with yellow laburnum and purple and white lilac, I took a phot of something that looked like a fuchsia but the leaves were different. Can anyone identify it?

Anyone recognise this?

It was a very different morning when we left Fiskerton on Wednesday, wet and windy, and we huddled in our waterproofs as we chugged off along a dark and dismal river. Tricky was tucked up in her bed under the hatch, warm as toast. We pulled the stern doors closed behind us and kept our legs almost dry as we chugged past Staythorpe Power Station and the huge weir next to it. We admired the diving skills of the grebes along this stretch and counted the cormorants standing guard on every available warning post. Apparently, canoeists using the weir do so at their own risk and I suppose that someone must have attempted it the past or they wouldn’t have needed the warning sign! We watched the black clouds scudding along the sky and a fierce wind blew us along towards Newark, where we were hoping for a mooring on the floating pontoon. If you’re not a boater then you might wonder why I’m wittering on about floating pontoons. The alternative is tying to a wall which, in some places, means climbing a ladder to get off the boat. We have had to do it sometimes and I can manage it if I must but its not easy with a dog like Tricky, who needs emptying often and sometimes wants to sit on the grass, staring vacantly at the horizon. She likes the pontoons and trots confidently up the ramp but we do keep her on the lead now since she fell in at the marina last winter and nearly gave us a heart attack. She just walked off the edge, straight into the water and then swam off into the darkness so we couldn’t get her out very quickly.

Wet start leaving Fiskerton

Got through the Town Lock and chugged past the Castle and under Newark Bridge and our luck was in, there was one space left on the pontoon and Carl was very determined to get in it. The river swept us along too fast to get in at our first attempt, so Carl swung the tiller hard over and we whipped round and chugged back past the space and then let the current nudge us gently backwards into the gap. The captain on the wide beam behind us came out to congratulate Carl on his skills, remarking that he was lucky not to have been swept sideways in the current. I just smiled and didn’t reveal that we had been sweating a bit ourselves! We enjoyed our stay in Newark and it was a great spot to meet up with our friends and family but, once we had made the decision to cancel our trip to Boston, we were happy to move to this quieter mooring in Farndon and watch the regatta of boats racing up and down the river in the sunshine yesterday. Some hardy fools were swimming and I shuddered as I thought about what might be coming downstream from the Severn Trent Pumping Station ( Ewwww face emoji)

'Sonning' Trip Boat from Newark

So that’s about all from us for this week, I hope all is well with you. Take care and write soon

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

Staythorpe

PS Sunday Lunch in the Riverside pub was slightly marred by a table full of young Mums next to us discussing bed wetting toddlers, breast feeding woes and the impossibility of erecting a modern travel cot. I’m just glad those days are behind me.

Newark Pontoon Mooring

PPS I’m not easily shocked but a painting, casually propped up against a wall in a fairly upmarket antique shop, did bring out the Mary Whitehouse in me - don’t scroll down if you’re easily offended(blushing cheeks emoji)