The most challenging boating in 9 years!

Not the most inspiring view from the loo but boy I was glad to tie up here!

I started my most challenging day at the bottom of Claydon Locks on the South Oxford. These 5 locks would normally take me about 80 mins to climb, being single handed. However two of the pounds were entirely de-watered which meant I had to first climb to the top of the flight and let water down from the summit level, thereby slowly filling each pound. So instead of 80 mins I was there for a good 2 hours.

I then proceeded to the Fenny Compton tunnel. It's not actually a tunnel but a very long stretch of water which is only wide enough for one boat, with the odd passing place. I had four different boats coming towards me on that stretch. That would be difficult enough but I soon discovered why the lock pounds had been empty - the summit level of the canal hardly had any water in it! So I was trying to hold my boat still in a passing place but with no water under my stern which means the bow swings out and you have very little control. Not one of the four boats coming towards me pulled over for me so I spent most of my time tilted sideways on silt!

Having survived that, I dragged my bottom through the silt at tick over speed until I got to Fenny Compton. I managed to water up but not moor so off I went again. I was just about to come to the end of a long line of moored boats when another boat came towards me. Since he was in clear water I assumed he would stop where there was room for us to pass each other. But he didn't. He headed straight for me, staring at me in a very unnerving way. With moored boats one side and the bank the other, I had absolutely nowhere to go. Right to the last second I thought he would stop and back off but he didn't. Instead he rammed straight into my bow causing a loud bang and a lot of ominous tinkling in my cabin as things were thrown to the floor. I said "Why the hell didn't you stop in the gap to let me through?" He stared right at me and just said "You should have got out of my way". At this moment one of the moored boaters stuck her head out and said 'Was that my boat getting hit?' I said 'No, mine. This idiot rammed me'. She told him to back off as I had nowhere to go. Instead he forced his way through between her boat and mine, scraping both and forcing me onto the bank. Needless to say his boat was neither displaying a name nor a licence.

On I went, getting tired now as it takes a lot of muscle power when you are steering in water that has the consistency of porridge. I was heading for a space I have moored at in the past and, oh joy, it was free. I soon found out why. The water levels were so low I couldn't get within 3 feet of the bank. On again with Bonny beginning to bark her displeasure as she was coming up to her 6th hour on the roof with only the odd lock wee to keep her going.

At last I found a boat moored on a length of Armco and I gratefully pulled in a respectful distance from it. I am still a foot or so from the bank but boats can get past and we are safe. I am so tired, my foot aches fiercely and the adrenlin is fast draining away. I found various of my belongings flung to the floor but mercifully nothing is broken. Now I have to take Bonny for a well deserved walk before collapsing.

Don't I just love the boating life?

High season change of mood

This is a rare picture of me! Being single handed I never manage to get a photo of myself in action. Having my friend Roger with me meant he could snap a couple. As you can see I'm in a very good mood as I go with the flow on the Thames.

Having got Roger back to his car at Banbury and off to Devon, I am back on my own cruising again. It is now July and I have noticed a real change in mood on the canal.

Take this morning; I was moored near Slat Mill lock and so, on my way back from Bonny's morning walk, I opened the gate so I could cruise straight in (early so no other boats were about). As I pulled my mooring pins out and pushed the boat into cruising position, I could see the gate closing again, but no boat was above the lock. As I approached I saw a dog walker sitting on the bench by the lock. He was the only person about and so must have closed the gate. Fair enough if he thought it had been left open and was saving water, but you would think when I approached he would realise his error and open it again. But no, he just watched as I got closer and closer. Eventually I called to him that I had left the gate open on purpose and since he had shut it, could he open it again. He did, but never said a word to me, even though I chatted gaily to him as I worked the lock. He just sat and stared.

Up to the next lock and as I entered it, a boat came from the other direction and stopped at the bollards. There were a couple on board but even though it took me time to climb up, close the gates and start to fill the lock, they never left their boat. This is unusual in my experience as mostly people will come forward from a waiting boat and chat and sometimes help. But in the last few days I have had boats both behind me and coming towards me, bursting with crew and yet staying with their boat rather than coming to help or even to pass the time of day.

Onto the next lock and as I was setting it a boat came up behind me and tied to the lock bollards. A man came from the boat in an extremely grumpy mood. He complained about a hire boat moored too close to the lock. Then he moaned about lock queues. Then he whinged about boaters who don't know what they are doing. Mercifully the lock filled and I managed to escape his torrent of negativity.

I assume that, being the high season, there are people on the canals now who perhaps only spend a week or two a year on their boats. For the rest of the year they are living in a world where they don't make eye contact with strangers, let alone speak to them. Where they don't offer to help as they are afraid of the consequences and where as long as they are ok then there is no need to concern themselves with others. And always there are those who aren't happy unless they are unhappy!

I am so glad I no longer live in that world! Moaning over, here is a nice picture of my boat.

I am in love

I have been on the river Thames for a few days now and I absolutely love it! This was my view from the loo this morning as we had taken a 'wild mooring' last night. This is where you just find a field or any bit of bank you can get into and moor up.

My best friends Roger and Shirleyann Andrews joined me last Monday at Lower Heyford on the Oxford canal to cruise on the Thames, a much anticipated trip. We cruised up to Lechlade through the prettiest scenery and most interesting cruising I have ever experienced. Here is our Lechlade mooring:

Unfortunately Shirleyann faced a family emergency which meant she had to jump ship near here and be driven by friends directly to Heathrow where less than 24 hours after cruising on the Thames, she landed in Canada. Such a sad time for her and for her husband who has to stay on board with me while we hot foot it back to Banbury so he can collect his car.

So for once I am cruising with a man on board! He is very useful. He can steer and work locks. He is also very handy so I have been taking advantage of that and several boat jobs have been completed. Here he is, I think I've used him up!

But as much as I like Roger, the title of this post is about my new love affair with the Upper Thames. It is followed wherever we go by the Thames Way and so Bonny and I have had some fantastic walks. The wildlife is amazing and it feels so much wilder and freer than the canals! I just wish so much that Shirleyann could have finished the trip with us. More pics to follow.

Beauty in the Cherwell Valley

This was my view from the loo yesterday. So peaceful after all the racket of my shady mooring near Aynho Wharf (where Don't Panic was born!) There we had 2 railway lines, the M40 and a very noisy neighbour. But the motorway has roared off to our right and the railway has sunk into a cutting.

This morning I tackled Somerton Deep Lock which has almost immovable paddles and a ridiculously heavy single bottom gate. It is also, as its name suggests, deep! I managed the difficult bits and when she had reached the bottom, I decided rather than climb down the greasy ladder, I would bowhaul Don't Panic out of the lock. She almost made it when a fender got jammed by the gate and she stopped just short of me being able to get back on. I didn't panic. I stood back and considered my options. There seemed to be two: keep hauling on the rope hoping I could drag her free or let water in from the top gate, hoping that would whoosh her out.

Sometimes doing nothing is better than doing something because when I took up the rope again, she had wiggled herself about and in doing so had freed the fender on her own! Simple then to pull her the rest of the way out. By then another boat had arrived behind me and closed the very heavy gate for me. This lock might be a bit of a challenge but it's very pretty...

As is the lock cottage!

I only travelled 15 minutes or so more before I reached Somerton water meadows. The cruising gods were still with me as there are very few mooring spots in this gloriously pretty spot and I got one which is just 50' long with large bushes either side, which means some rare privacy. 

Bonny loves it as there are no fences or hedges and so she has a view of the whole field and any rabbits that might be about!

Lastly a picture of yesterday's Oxfordshire sunset:

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Summer Solstice

This is not the most picturesque view from the loo but the most important thing about it today is the shade! Having endured temperatures up to 29° since last Friday, it is forecast to be over 30° today.

I am not one of those people who revel in the heat and strip off at the drop of a hat. I much prefer the gentler caress of a spring or autumn sun. In fact if my only choice in life was to live in Africa or Alaska, it would be Alaska all the way! Bonny too struggles in the heat. She still expects her walks and still wants to ride on the roof when we are moving but I have had to restrict her to the back counter for her own safety. I also bought a table fan in Banbury, primarily for her, but every time I point it at her she moves! I have also put a wet towel on the floor but she won't lie on it. Instead she just looks at me pleadingly and pants herself into exhaustion.

Yesterday was particularly trying as I had only intended to water up and do a couple of miles and locks before finding more shade. I had forgotten that for fairly long stretches of the South Oxford the towpath resembles a rainforest and you can't get close to the bank for vegetation. I ended up doing one swing bridge, five locks and seven miles which took four and a half hours, all in searing heat.

I nearly cried at the last lock of the day which is a river lock (where the Cherwell joins with the canal briefly). The gate was so heavy and the lock so leaky that even sweating and straining with all my strength, I couldn't budge the top gate. Fortunately another boater came to my rescue and together we cranked it open. He then worked the lock for me so I could stay on board. I occasionally write about the awkward people I come across on the cut but they are still vastly outnumbered by helpful, friendly ones.

I was faced with yet more impenetrable growth along the towpath and was just about to really panic as the heat was overcoming me when through a mercifully open lift bridge I could see somewhere to moor. Not only clear of vegetation along the edge but also with an overhanging oak tree which provided shade for most of the afternoon. I nearly cried again, this time with relief.

It is still very hot but, unlike Banbury, there is a breeze here and we can find shade for most of the day. Today is the Summer Solstice which happily coincides with the last day of this heat wave, they say the hottest in 20 years. I would obviously be dancing naked around the nearest standing stone to celebrate. But it is just too hot. Roll on winter!!

Banbury Bliss

You may think that this view from the loo has nothing to do with Banbury but you would be wrong. I am moored only a 3 minute walk away to the centre of town and yet this is what I see from my window.

I am moored beside Spiceball Park and it is the best managed wildlife and park space within a town that I have ever encountered. It has open grassy areas for picnics and ball games and these are kept mowed short and amply supplied with bins (not that everybody chooses to use them!) Then there is an area of grass left long and unmowed so that wild flowers have a chance. All around there are wooded spaces crawling with squirrels, rabbits and birds. Bonny thinks she has died and gone to Heaven. In fact in the early morning it sounds like we are moored in a rain forest, such is the clamour of bird song. One bird has obviously lived in a town too long as it's call precisely mimics the alarm sound of a reversing lorry!

Banbury is bliss too for the shade the mooring offers. This weekend is the hottest of the year so far and despite having bought a table fan, the evenings and overnight are uncomfortably hot. We could not have coped without the shade.

Lastly Banbury is bliss because of the facilities here. My good friend Chris who lives here has already run me to the supermarket. I have walked to the launderette (friendliest one I have ever visited) and have finally managed to replace my dreadful Trespass walking boots with hopefully brilliant High Tech ones. I have even managed to find my receipt for the Trespass boots so I shall be demanding a refund as, in only three months, they have lost 3 eyelets, both boots leak and one has split.

We move on soon, heading towards Lower Heyford where we pick up passengers in the form of my best friends Roger and Shirleyann Andrews. Then we head to Oxford and The Thames!

How do we know when to quit

I have stopped half way up the Napton lock  flight and this is my lovely, if somewhat damp view from the loo. I stopped because I judged that it had become too windy for me to safely continue.

But that is not the reason for the title of this post. On the way up the flight I met an elderly man coming down. He was obviously struggling. He took ages to open the top gate and by the time I got tied up and went up to him he had only just got his boat into the lock and was fiddling about with the longest rope I have ever seen on a boat! As I approached he tripped over the rope and only just remained upright. I told him that, if he wanted to, he could get back on board and I'd work the lock for him. I opened one paddle but he was so busy explaining how difficult he was finding everything and how he had recently cilled his boat! that when he went to get on board he had to use the ladder. That was terrifying to watch and I was busy making a plan in my head should he fall!

Eventually I got his boat out of the lock, but was so concerned that I asked the boat behind me to see him through the next lock and in return I would set my lock for them once I had got through. As it was, another boat came towards me as I was ready to leave. The lady asked me if I had met the elderly man. I told her of my encounter. She told me that they had followed him down the flight so far and very nearly had to fish him out of the lock as he had slipped on the stone surround and had fallen over!

It made me wonder how can you tell when it is time to hang up your windlass? Do you stop when a) you become a danger to yourself or others? b) when you start to terrify yourself or c) when you are so slow that the whole lock flight grinds to a halt!

I don't think that b) or c) are good enough reasons to quit as I regularly terrify myself but I still love it and speed should not be a factor when boating. But a) is a harder one. If this man had injured himself (or worse) today it would not just have ruined his day, but would have disrupted everyone else on the flight. The emergency services would have had to come and looking at where we were, it almost certainly would have involved the air ambulance.

But then how can you tell when to quit? Not just boating but anything you really love to do? I don't know the answer to that and I may need to know one day. At present I can't imagine not cruising my boat whatever age I get to. And perhaps the chap I met today is the same. Does anyone have the right to stop him?

Answers on a postcard please!