Bonkers letter writers

Lisa has arrived and she came with canal related goodies in the form of the canal boat magazines. These are not much use for up to date information and some of the boat reviews and articles are appalling but some of the historical articles I enjoy. However the best part of these rags is most definitely the letters pages. Some of the correspondents are truly bonkers. Narrowboatworld on the interweb is the same on the letters and email pages and always worth a good read. I realise that some of these letters must be spoof and written by people like myself (I would love to lay claim to have written some of them).

In Waterways World a letter appears by one Richard Miles who having hired a narrowboat on the K&A insists that, 'there were barely any stretches of the canal that were free of moored boats. This made our progress rather slow and tedious...' That's the whole point Richard. The relaxing speed and if you found the journey tedious you chose the wrong mode of transport. He goes on to say that pubs stop serving food at 2 o'clock, that taxi drivers don't know everywhere on the canal and that Devizes is unimpressive. Welcome to the world Richard. He obviously didn't like getting told to slow down even though he was speeding (presumably since it was 'slow and tedious'). The best bit was when 'without any warning a Dutch barge suddenly pulled out in front of our boat...'. I've never seen a Dutch barge suddenly do anything. Poor Richard. He must have had a wretched time.

And poor Alec McHale who in his letter titled 'Towpath Squatters' in the same rag has an insane rant about all things liveaboards. He only travelled 20 miles and saw (around) 30 boats with people living on them. Best of all is the response from the BW spokesperson. At no time does the writer mention licences (or lack of) but the BW response only addresses the issue of licensing and none of Alec's barking points. 'These people have no respect for the canals', barks Alec, 'If BW does not tackle this problem firmly...more and more people will buy a boat and squat at locations with access to a road'. God forbid, Alec. God forbid.

The email on Narrowboatworld from Yvonne Umpleby cannot have been written by a real person. Surely it was written by Tom Crossley (aka Victor Swift) himself although I think this is the most likely letter to be a spoof (although I can't make a suitable anagram from the name). Although if Tom Crossley is not Victor Swift he should at least be told that on his recent trip to Chester, Victor stole Tom's boat, wife and dog. Possibly in exchange for Victor's moped. Yvonne complains, 'why do these 'continuous cruisers' have to be so scruffy (lack of paint, wheelbarrow, logs, their worldly goods and not forgetting the blue tarpaulin)'. I think the title of the piece tells it's own story, 'Stoned at Wallingford'. Yes Yvonne. I think you probably were.

There are many other examples but read them for yourselves. Priceless.

Liberation, or not

Tomorrow, it is the 14th July and is Bastille/Liberation Day in France, a national holiday. The liberation of the Bastille was in 1789 when the Parisian crowds gathered outside of the cities prison (and arms store) and stormed the gates (after the gates were opened for them by the defenders). They released all of seven prisoners, several of whom had been placed there by their families for their own protection and one of whom was a mad Englishman. He is the one with the long beard seen in all the etchings of the time being carried around the streets above the heads of the masses. The next day they realized that he was mad and placed him under lock and key again. Mention this the a French person and the don't seem to be aware of it.

Just like the English when it comes to invasions. We haven't been invaded since 1066 comes the cry (from those who also talk enthusiastically about the 1966 World Cup and the Second World War) but this again is not quite correct. There have been several invasions since but mention these to your average English person and they have no idea what you are talking about. Liberation day in France is now celebrated by the French making lots of noise, eating loads of food and drinking to much wine and a local firework display. Fortunately they don't tend to carry English people around the streets any more even though they think we're all mad. But enough of revisionist history.

I have volunteered my services as a 'Friend' of the Shackerstone Family Festival on the 6th and 7th September in a vague attempt to get some free tickets. Its the only festival I get to go to in England during the summer as I am away for most of it. It's also our local festival on the Ashby canal and it happens just after I get back from France. A good selection of ex-working boats attend every year and the usual festival activities take place but there's no folk music that I'm aware of although there's a beer tent and that'll do for me. As a 'Friend' I suppose that I'm expected to take part in the preparation for the festival and with a bit of luck I'll get to wear one of those luminous waistcoats that make you look so important at these things. We'll probably arrive in good time, probably Saturday 30th, and moor up somewhere beside the festival field if the boat still works and Lisa hasn't done any lasting damage to it.

My holiday is over. It is no more. Today I am collecting Lisa from the airport.

Drunk, Scarlet Pimpernel & DIY

Eleven days. That's right. Eleven days. That's how long it took for my mail that Lisa has forwarded to me to arrive here. I'm about three hundred kilometres from Paris, thirty kilometres from Dijon. It's not Azerbaijan (where I have sent an English longbow in the past and it arrived in three days). This is the 21^st century. Correct me if I'm wrong. The bloody Scarlet Pimpernel could have made two trips to Paris to get more of the aristocracy out from under the noses of the revolutionaries in that time. A horse and cart could have made most of the way in that time. A lazy drunken touring cyclist could have easily rode that distance and more in that time. What the 'ell's going on. To add insult to injury Lisa paid extra for air mail. An 'orse and cart it is next time. Ken used to be a postie so I think I'll take it out on him.

The old folks came back roaring drunk the other night. Roaring. They went out on an 'old fogies' day out with our friends from Dijon, Michel and Nichol, and as usual with the French, they visited every man and his dog and had something to eat and drink at every stopover. 'We're only going to visit Nichol's sister'. Of course you are. This is France. They left at two o'clock and arrived back at eleven, roaring. Much red wine had been taken and much food had been eaten. Some of us have a camp site to run you know. I got them up extra early to clean the toilets the next morning though. Got to look after the old folk.

We really don't know how lucky we are living in England especially as far as DIY is concerned. I have just replace a light switch in one of the toilet blocks and it has taken two hours. In England it would have been ten minutes. All electrical and Plumbing supplies are a nightmare. For example, the water pipes start at 8mm and go up in 2 mm increments to 28mm then add the imperial stuff that is installed in old homes and and one shelf is taken up with different sized piping. In the UK we have 10mm, 15mm and 28mm as normal supply. That's it. I wired up a double plug the other day. It took eighteen different connections and four different screwdrivers just to wire up the plug. In the UK there are three wires to wire up, live, neutral and earth and it takes about five minutes. I cannot really complain as it has been my experience here that has made the wiring and plumbing on the boat so much easier (what do you mean I haven't finished it). Hey, I'm playing into the anti-European lobbies hands here. Not really. I get my good quality red wine for fifty pence a litre. Swings and roundabouts.

This blog's getting less and less boaty. I'll make up for it in August.

'Village of the Damned' and knots

It's like the 'Village of the Damned' around here. We attract mainly a Dutch clientèle here and as such many have Nordic type features. It's also the start of the first round of Dutch school holidays and at present there are six families on the site and there are nine or ten little girls, all with blond hair and all seemingly looking identical, running around. It's all a bit spooky. I think they've a sinister purpose of secret world domination. I'll just have to keep thinking of brick walls.

If I haven't reported back within seven days, national security needs to be informed and an air strike called in. No nuclear weapons should be used as this may prolificate the life forms. The location is E 5.12783 N 47.01444.

I am currently learning knots, hitches, splices and the like out of curiosity, boredom, just in case the world doesn't actually end and the notion that I would like to make my own fenders when I get back to Poverty Rock. I've downloaded several knotting type documents and am learning over a hundred of the things. Most are totally useless and could and would not be used for any purpose other than to blind other uninterested parties on my prowess on knot tying. Lisa would seem the most likely uninterested party for this demonstration. We've developed a method of displaying our mutual disinterest in one another's past times by the expression, “Ooooh lovely”, Meaning, 'Sod off. I couldn't give a monkeys'. Well it keeps me off the streets.

I came across Eric Johns' website when looking for knotty things and in his gallery there was a picture of him making the Turk's head around the post at the Greyhound pub at Sutton Stop over thirty years ago. Anyone who has been there cannot have failed to be impressed with this decorative piece of complicated rope work and the photo put into some sort of chronological perspective. That's about as boaty as I'm going to get this week.

Loads of irrelevant nonsense

I took a trip to St Jean de Losne and there are three narrowboats in the marina and I found an old Springer in one of the maintenance yards looking the worst for wear. Unfortunately I couldn't spot the boat with the flybridge but I'll keep my eye out.

Pearl (outlaw) is not known for her culinary abilities but she has made a boeuf à la Bourgingnonne (beef bourgogne) and a what a surprise it was. She had missed out the seasoning, herbs, garlic, bacon or lardons, garlic and worst of all the red wine, in fact everything that makes it what it is supposed to be. I could feel Elizabeth David rolling in her grave. The fact that we have a copy of her 'French Provincial Cooking' makes the offence even greater. With a stroke of luck Pearl'll be all cooked out and the stress that this meal had put her under will prevent her from entering the kitchen for the next month or so. Just leave it to, 'le chef cuisine. C'est moi. Naturellement'. Ol' big 'ed.

It was Lisa's birthday last Sunday but I didn't mention it. I had written a blog on Word (or the Openoffice equivalent) the Saturday but it had disappeared by the Sunday and I had forgotten what I had written (ok, I may have had a little too much red wine). It is the first time in a long time that I had lost a document on a computer and it threw me out of sinc a little. Well it was her birthday and I'd be foolish to state what age she was but spring chickens are no longer mentioned. Normally Terri and I are in cahoots as Terri reminds me and I buy a card or if we have both forgotten Terri will buy the card and I will send a message to place inside. But Terri has gone and has her own life to worry about and can no longer afford the time to worry about mine. Suffice to say that Lisa had to make do with an email this year. I did forget her Christmas card one year when we were skiing and she threw a chair from the balcony of our accommodation missing a drinker on the terrace below by a fraction and my head by slightly less. Needless to say this is not normally forgotten these days. I'm not saying she's unreasonable but ...

Lisa reckons that the engine's not working on the boat. I have confirmed from her that the bilges (after explaining exactly where the bilges were) have neither water nor oil in them and have surmised that we are out of fuel. We didn't top up before I left as I had assumed that there would be enough for Lisa's use. Seemingly not. She cannot have done anything else to it surely. Well unless she wants to fill a can with diesel and use that she'll just have to do without for the next two weeks.

We have a small sit on tractor over here which, at a conservative estimate, is at least twenty five years old. It works, but only just. It breaks down all the time and we fix it all the time. The gearbox can only engage either first or fifth gears so I am cutting grass at snails pace or at breakneck speed, cutting between trees, getting myself caught on overhanging branches and generally being thrown about. It had been a bit sickly of late so myself and Chief Bodger Number One (Ken (outlaw)) had the carburettor off to blow out the jets and wash it all in petrol. It's a long time since I've done this as modern cars aren't really designed to be repaired in this way and must be returned to the garage for the whole unit to be replaced. Not like my old Triumph Bonneville. That was a real bike. That also kept breaking down but was usually easy to fix. Not quite sure what the point of this story was but there you go.

How come after hundreds of pounds worth of research and development and hundreds of years of human hours, does the door locks, heaters and windscreen washers always give up the ghost after a couple of years on Ford cars. Just a thought.

Do you ever get the impression that this blog has lost it's way somehow?

Fly bridges

Last year I saw an English narrowboat on the river Saone that that had a fly bridge added. Sounds incredible but there it was. The fly bridge was placed halfway along the roof and looked to all intents and purposes like a fly bridge from any other white plastic Mediterranean cruiser. It looked a bit daft but thinking about it would have been perfect for summers in France, the high bridges and the giant locks. I'll take a trip up to St Jean de Losne where there is the largest inland port in France and try to find it to take a photo of it although I don't know if it's moored there this year or not.

The outlaws have now arrived and have taken over toilet cleaning duties. They're much better at it than me and anyway, it keeps them busy and out of trouble. I ensure that they have an adequate supply of menial physical work to be getting on with otherwise they'd become senile. Whoever said that we Brits don't look after our old folk. They have to work for their pitch and food as there are still very few customers.

I finished 'Ramlin Rose: The boatwoman's story' by Sheila Stewart and found it a surprisingly good read and very well researched. Highly recommended. Back to Tolstoy now.

I've just read Pav's latest blog entry for nb Mamaduke. Brilliant. It's a perfect summing up of the Daily Mail's view of Britain in the 21st century in a single blog entry. Whatever your political persuasion it's well worth a read.

Music, books and plumbing

Shuffle play is a wondrous thing on digital music playing equipment until you find that someone has placed their own choices on said equipment. Listening to an eclectic (not) mix of Pink Floyd, Led Zepplin, Crosby Stills and Nash (and Young sometimes), White Stripes, Joni Mitchell, Nick Drake, various folkies etc. when out of the blue comes a disco hit from the eighties. Slightly disturbing. Lisa and I are totally incompatible musically except for Cambridge Folk Festival where I like the music and she likes the atmosphere (too many fiddles apparently). Surely you can't have too many fiddles.

I'm currently reading Tolstoy's 'War and Peace'. I'm not normally one for fiction but I picked it up due to its famous size and not necessarily for the content which is not too bad although, like much fiction, there are glaring omissions, coincidences, lucky breaks, exaggerated incidents etc all of which annoy me about reading this genre. However to balance this all up I am also reading Hunter S Thompson's 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas' which is as about as far in the other direction as it's possible to go. It's just one big exaggerated incident. Brilliant.

A near neighbour of mine across here is Chris. He is an ex-pilot who has now retired and writes and edits books, poetry etc. He pitched up today clutching a copy of 'Ramlin Rose The Boatwoman's Story' by Sheila Stewart. I hadn't read this and it came as a bit of a surprise to find a book on the English canals in deepest France. It'll give me a break from Tolstoy at least. Chris was the one who took me in hand on my first year here and taught me all I needed to know about plumbing and how to fix it at no cost. Since this time there has never been a plumber on the site and the plumbing looks like this is most definitely the case. But it works and doesn't leak and I am eternally grateful to Chris for this.

Marinas and growths

There is also something in the water at Trinity Marina. I noticed it when we were looking at the place when we brought the boat in. I don't know if other marinas have this but all the boats moored there have some sort of algae or plant growth on the hull below the waterline. Lisa says that we now also have this growth. From what I could see, the longer your boat is stationary the longer the growth of the whateveritis. We are taking it out of the water when I get back anyway to give it a good blacking as sailaways from Liverpool boats only have the one coat and it is always advisable to get it out within the first year and do it all again for piece of mind.

Talking of bringing the boat into the marina when we did, the wind was blowing a bit briskly and as soon as I got the bow through the entrance I was blown across to the other side of the basin. It took me half and hour and some advice from another boater who thought that we should tie up the front get the stern directly into wind then release the bow rope and reverse directly into wind and into out berth. Worked perfectly and I wish I'd thought of it. Still learning and I'm not perfect but as near as damn it.

Wearing trousers and kayaks

Lisa says I should continue this blog even if I am in France and we all know who wears the trousers in this relationship. So I will have a weekly or so update on progress at the camp site. I will try to make it boat related if not to do with narrow boats. Talking of which, a kayak is a boat of rather narrow dimensions so we can include that here. We have a small flotilla of craft here some of which I build myself and others we have bought.

I was adjusting Lisa's kayak to fit me with the aim of trying it out if the rain ever stops and was in the process of adjusting the footrests which involved sitting in it with the spray deck on (very tightly as the cockpit is too large for the spray deck) when a new camper drove up to book in. He looked at me on the grass in the kayak and asked if he could do the administration. I then realised that I had tucked the handle to release the spray deck inside the boat under the overly tight elastic. After some struggling I still couldn't get out of the boat and had to admit defeat so told him to sort himself out and come back later. Goodness knows what he thought. I had visions of me hopping, whilst in the kayak using the paddle to aid forward movement, over to reception to sit behind the desk still encased in the kayak. Well I got out eventually. That's probably not the bast spray deck for capsizing with.

Lisa came over for the first week and I have been on my own for this week and will be until the outlaws get here towards the end of June. It's not busy at the moment (it's never busy) as there are only one or two enterprising Dutch at any time. Our French friends visit occasionally from Dijon to check I am still alive but mostly it's just me and the dog. Sam is here as well as it wouldn't have been fair to keep her locked up in the boat all day in the marina. Barking dogs probably don't go down too well there unlike to tow path where there is nobody to care whether your dog is barking or not. Barking partners are a different story all together.

We got here and, since the place hadn't been cut since August last year, it looked like a jungle. In fact I met Ray Mears filming whilst on the way to the toilet block. It looks much better now and I have cleared much of the grass with the last bits still to do. The toilets are cleaned and we are just waiting for campers to arrive. Fat chance.

France and those dasterdly French

Readers of this blog may be wondering what is going on and why there has been no recent entry (on the other hand they may be thinking, 'Thank god that idiot's gone. Glad to the back of him', and who could blame them). I have left the boat and am currently in France where I am running a small camp site in Burgundy. It is in fact our camp site and this is something that I do every year. “It's ok for some”, I hear several people shout (metaphorically). Well it would be if it made any money but it doesn't so it isn't. It will make some money when we sell it which we are currently trying to do (anyone want to buy a camp site). Anyway, Lisa is currently living on the boat and I am here and she will join me when the term ends.

For all my bluster about marinas, Pickles no 2 is currently residing, yes you guessed it, in Trinity Marina in Hinckley where it will remain until I return at the end of August when we can continue hopping bridges. My excuse is that Lisa cannot handle the boat by herself and needs amenities to hand. I know, it's pathetic. I am a real hypocrite. But you already knew that, didn't you. That's the way it is and that's the way it shall remain.

On the boating front, I never got it painted in the end and it has remained half finished in British Racing Green. But the bits I have done look good even though I do say so myself. Lisa has been briefed on the systems, something she has been dodging for some time reliant on me to sort it all out. With a little help she should be all right and I'll still have a home to go back to in August.

Since this is meant to be a narrowboat blog it seems right that I shall give it a rest over the summer period but if something comes up of interest (like Lisa blows up the boat) I'll report back straight away. We only have dial up over here and it is a bit of a pain in the neck but it's now up and running and I've discovered that I have 262 blog entries to read. Unfortunately most will remain unread but I won't tell you whose I'm deleting (that Granny Buttons, it's like a bloody virus).

I've just heard that Terri has just been accepted onto a three year acting BA course at uni. Congrats. She was a little worried as she was on the one year foundation course and had to audition for this one. I for one am over the moon for her. Apparently she went way over the top on the audition and it worked. I've seen a lot of overacting in my time and it's always sure to get noticed.

CC Licencing (again)

NABO seem to be grasping the same nettle as the APCO have previously. Constant cruisers really are the most hated people in the world. Even more so than Gorge Bush. But not as much as bridge hoppers. Well I think paying £2500 a year is a brilliant idea.

It will drive off the waterways the only people that use them in winter so BW can get on with those repairs they can’t afford. We’ll all be tucked away in those vast marinas we all love so much. I for one will get myself a little mooring and sub-let it to others, at no cost of course, well possibly a secret donation to a charitable cause (Pete’s summer beer drinking fund) to the cost of the mooring or more since most constant cruisers will be doing the same thing hence moorings will be scarcer and more expensive. I'll then continue cruising as normal or bridge hop, as is my want. Mooring prices will rise and I will be paying no more than I am now but the people that have voted to increase my licence fees will be paying more. In fact these same people could easily be paying me for a mooring I don’t want in order to retain my lifestyle as a free citizen. Ohh the irony. In the words of some moron (probably dubbia), “Bring it on”.

These proposed increases for constant cruisers are designed to appeal to those who despise minorities of all kinds, immigrants for getting fully fitted brand new five bedroom homes off the state, students for sponging from the tax payer and never giving anything back, teenagers for wearing hoods and hanging around in groups, gypsies/travellers for not paying taxes and moving a lot, constant cruisers for not paying their way and moving a lot or mot very much (delete as appropriate). They’re not like us, they’re different, we don’t want them here amongst us. We pay more than them.

These proposed increases will leave the waterways for the part time boaters and the hire people who, as we all know never cause any damage by hitting bridges, etc. Oh, I’ve just seen another hirer hit the bridge I’m near. That’s the third one this week. Well they didn’t do very much damage I suppose.

It will prevent the use of all those facilities that we constant cruisers misuse throughout the year. All that pumping out of septic tanks and emptying of those skips that BW have to do (all that rubbish and shit is all down to CCer's you know) and, aaaahhm, I can’t think of anything else. Washing away the banks. No constant cruisers go slowly. It’s hirers and part time boaters who speed. No, I’m stumped. This wouldn’t have anything to do with the politics of envy by any chance. Surely not.

Paint job and things

These blog entries are becoming a little sporadic to say the least. Once a ever ten days just isn’t good enough but I have an excuse, however pathetic. Despite my previous rant about quasi-sine wave verses sine-wave the internal mouse on the laptop is the only thing that I have found that doesn’t work with the quasi version. The internal mouse software seems to conflict with the electricity form and the pointer tends to do it’s own thing. It works perfectly with mains but not through the inverter. We must try a usb mouse as that may solve the problem.

Last weekend our friends Steve and Jill and their offspring Cloe and Macauley arrived to take over the boat for the day. We took them on a short trip and ended up in a wooded mooring for lunch, unusually cooked by Lisa, before depositing them at their car at the end of the day. A good time was had by all. Well that’s what they said. Heaven knows what people really think.
This week I have been painting the boat on the outside, putting up the headlining and fitting the internal illumination thus hiding the exposed wiring. It all looks very impressive and I’m hoping to get both finished by next weekend.

Terri is has been visiting for the last couple of days after finishing uni for a week with her fancy London ways. Do they ever do any work at uni these days. In my day it was constant essays and exams, we never had any time off and when we did we had to work all the hours just to keep up. Used to live in a cardboard box in’t middle of road...etc etc

The Ashby is very busy at present and I suppose it will be the same until the end of the summer season. It was much nicer when it was ‘our’ (constant cruisers and bridge hoppers) canal as we now have to keep permanent smiles on and wave cheerfully at all and sundry otherwise we will get the reputation of being grumpy old goats. On this boat I already have that reputation so it shouldn’t really bother me.

Lisa thinks she’s on holiday with the advent of the good weather and as such finds it difficult to get out of bed to go to work during the week. She also finds it difficult to stop drinking beer at the weekends. I, on the other hand, have never found either difficult and Lisa says that my whole life is a holiday. I’ve never heard the like.

The dog has cut the top of her ear off. She was limping around, couln't make the jump and fell into the alternator belt. Blood everywhere, a visit to the vet beckened and much money changed hands. Bloody dog.

Wet dog and house bricks

This week has been relatively uneventful. Firstly there was a problem with the electricity as it seemed to run out very quickly from the inverter. I eventually tracked it down to a cheap battery isolator switch which had melted internally. It was not letting through all the power that it should and the inverter started working solely from the starter battery. Seems a little strange as the Sterling inverter is supposed to prevent this. All sorted now but Charles Sterling was in my bad books for a while.

The other item we are very happy with is a 240 volt fridge running from the inverter. Yes I know that everybody says that you should buy a 12 volt fridge for a variety of reasonable reasons but as usual I ignored all advice and went the other way. It all works perfectly and uses very little electricity and only cost £100.

Our new mooring has new neighbours, as you would expect and indeed is why we own a boat in the first place. Dave is eighteen months down the line of a self fit out and I eye his boat up jealously. Glynn plays the accordion and in the evenings whilst running his engine and his French cafe music drifts over the canal. In fact, if I close my eyes I can imagine sipping a petit cafe in our favourite piano bar in Montmartre. Unfortunately the dead badger drifting by on opening my eyes brings reality back with a start. Play us another one Glynn.

The dog fell overboard the other day. One minute she was lying in the sun on the counter at my feet and the next she was swimming for her life. A passing boat ran her over before I could call out but she emerged from the depths again and made her way towards the bank. Unfortunately this was piled, as was the other. She then decided to swim towards the steerer of the boat that had ran her over but the women couldn’t reach her. I reversed to within several feet, clapped my hands and shouted her name. She turned mid stream and swam to me. I lay on the counter and picked her little bedraggled body from the filthy water. It’s more than my life’s worth letting anything happen to her. Bloody dog. Ten minutes later she was back outside again, this time a little more cautious.
At the moment we are again down at the Rising Sun at Shackerstone waiting to meet some friends for lunch tomorrow. The outlaws were down last week at the same place and time. Pearl had a little too much red wine much to all our amusements. Except Ken of course who had to drive her home. While we were eating, there was a thunderstorm and hail stones the size of golf balls. No they were the size of house bricks. There or thereabouts. Maybe.

Producing electricity

Well I have wired in the battery charger and inverter this week. It all seems to work well and Lisa enjoys the fact that she can use her straighteners in the morning before leaving for work. We both enjoy that we can use the computer for longer than the battery life of one hour forty five minutes. We didn’t buy the optional remote thingy for the battery charger and I am relying on a bank of leds for information on how it is working. The only snag is that I have mounted the inverter adjacent to the charger and can’t see the leds without the aid of the bathroom mirror. Not really ideal, especially when Lisa is doing her hair. I’ll purchase the remote eventually. The size of the wire that was recommended surprised me and some of it still needs doubling up. But running the engine for an hour a day keeps the battery bank charged and the hot water constant. There is one lead that runs from the starter solenoid to the engine alternator that I don't think needs to be there so I'll take it off and see what happens. Well that's the way I did the rest of the electrics.
The roof has now taken on a green tint and has been given its first coat of British racing green. It is just the shade we were looking for and look forward to finishing the rest of the paintwork next week. When I started the job this morning, the weather was perfect. I’d been on the job for fifteen minutes when the clouds parted, the sun came out the metal heated up instantly. Brilliant. After ten minutes or so the clouds went black and it started spitting. Typical painting weather for the towpath painter by all accounts. Fortunately it was only the first coat and it all needs sanding down before subsequent coats. I also give the chimney a coat of heat proof black. Very smart.

We are also picking up the shower next week and I am apparently fitting it soonest. This seems like a demand and my objections that it is going to be quite a long job seem to cut no ice. We had to wait for my little van to be fixed to enable us pick up the shower. I have been using the BW facilities at Sutton Cheney and Lisa uses a local health club of which she is a member and it will be good to be independent.

It had developed an electrical fault and I put it in the garage on Wednesday. The mechanic rang today and said it was fixed. The damage was a miserly £40.00. What? Any decent garage would have charged at least £100.00 to do absolutely nothing. I have no idea what the problem was and he could have charged me anything he wanted and he knew it. There are at least some honest garages out there, you just have to find them and keep them to yourself.

Lisa is visiting Terri in London tomorrow but on Sunday we’ll probably head up to Shackerstone for a pint at the Rising Sun. We are currently at a beautiful rural mooring all on our lonesome with all the facilities we require.

Hats, jackets and beer festival

What is it with some men driving boats (I am currently refusing to use nautical terminology). There seems to be a perfusion of men wearing brimmed hats whilst steering. Are they pretending to be Indiana Jones or some such hero? When did this fashion emerge and why did I miss it? I must confess that I too have a brimmed hat that was stolen from a house that I used to live in Norway. It has never been worn and probably never will be unless of course I wish to resemble our friend Indiana.

The lower classes also seem to have a penchant for wearing luminous jacket, probably stolen from construction or gas companies. These can vary in colour from bright yellow to orange. Is this the only jacket they own or do they think they will be easier to spot if they fall in? The men who wear the hats look like they would never be seen dead wearing the jackets and the men in the jackets would think the hats were too Poncey. Nobody ever seems to wear both together.

I took a trip to Midland swindlers on Friday and bought the battery charger, inverter and other overpriced bits ‘n bobs. We got a Sterling alternator to battery charger and a Sterling quasi sine wave inverter. The washing machine is the only thing that may (or may not) need the sine wave and we can run that during day with the generator. I also picked up the lights as they were on offer for £1.60 so bought thirty of them. These included two over bed reading lights although their fitting looks quite a way in the future. I’ll try to have these fitted this week as the one hour forty five minutes of battery power on the computer is quite limiting and if we watch ‘The Apprentice’ and the other one, ‘The Apprentice You’re Fired’, there is no time to write the blog. That will hopefully be resolved this week.

Eddie Boatstove (I don't think it's his real name either) from Northern Fabrications arrived on Tuesday evening with our new Boatman stove and all the assorted bits and pieces. I had called him over the weekend and he had said that he was thinking of doing the deliveries on Tuesday. By Tuesday late afternoon we had assumed he was not coming but another call revealed that he would be with us later that evening and at eight he turned up. The stove is now screwed to the plinth and is roaring away. We are highly impressed and with it and with the new Ecofan we are blowing hot air around the boat. Makes a change from Lisa blowing hot air around the boat. A very reasonable £400 with delivery included and all the bits a pieces for fitting. He didn't cut the hole in the roof though.

A liner for the chimney was also acquired as tar was running onto the roof and down the sides. I’m thinking of gathering it up and selling it to Tarmac as there’s so much of it. This makes the chimney a double skinned jobby and should cure the problem. I’ll have to dig out the pop riveter to fit it but it shouldn’t be too difficult.

I have built the plinth and back bit and tiled the area and now fitted the stove. It is slightly over engineered as I wasn’t sure of the weight. In fact you could get a herd of smallish disco dancing elephants doing their stuff on it assuming you could find said elephants with a penchant for Gloria Gaynor.

We have also bought a proper mattress instead of another blow-up bed. We kept buying them and Sam kept puncturing them. This one might last a little longer. Getting it back from the shop was fun as we only have the Ford ka on the road at the minute and it was a bit of a squeeze to get it in the back without it bursting into the driving seat.

We are currently at Hawksbury Junction as there is a beer festival at the Greyhound this weekend and we partook of some real ale. A boat is the perfect vehicle for such events as it’s your home as well. We never seem to last as long these days as we did when we were going to the Nottingham Beer Festival where we could drink all night and have a kebab on the way home. Last night we only lasted a couple of hours before retiring back to the boat. It must be something to do with age. I’d just like to point out that Lisa flagged first.

I’ve just looked out the window and there were two men on a passing boat wearing brimmed hats. Are we being invaded by aliens?

A qualified person

I am now a fully qualified plumber and electrical engineer. The water is flowing in both hot and cold varieties. Not only is the water pump working but the tunnel light is also functioning and switched at the correct place. I just need to find tunnel to try it out on. The rest of the lights are still not present but give me time (as if I haven't had enough). I can tell you’re impressed.

The Ikea chairs are also wearing well and we haven’t broken them yet which is a surprise as we’ve had them for a week already. There is also a table and chairs and the washing machine is plumbed in and working great guns off the generator. We were told, and I had read, that washing machines require sine wave to work correctly. Indeed others had told us that washing machines explode if the correct electricity form is not supplied.

Needless to say that I ignored these harbingers of doom who, usually well intentioned, merely regurgitate what they had over-heard, what someone had told them or they had read in some manufacturers blurb and insist that it’s the truth. Never believe the truth or at least other peoples’ truth. Mine is also a little suspect but that at least is my truth and I’ve got no-one else to blame if that’s wrong (except Lisa of course).

We can also recharge the leisure batteries using a Heath Robinson contraption involving various wires and the positive from a car jump lead set. It works but I have to remember to disconnect it when we stop or the starter battery will expire.

We were so impressed with our modern living standards what we took a trip up to Sutton Cheney to refill the water tank. The previous water had been in there for a month and had been put there merely as ballast and anyway Lisa wanted fresh to drink. No more hauling those jerry cans down the towpath for me. It makes you appreciate the simple things in life when you have to live without them. Lisa says that’s why she like living with me. I cannot imagine what she means.

I'm in a gprs area tonight but I'll upload the photos to prove it all tomorrow. Bet you can hardly wait.

New chairs

We've bought some Ikea chairs. They're very comfortable compared to out picnic chairs but possibly not up to Wilson's standards. We just need walls now. But the electrical cupboard is nearly done and by tomorrow, may be finished and the wiring connected up. This means that the water will be ready to be pumped and I can finally finish dragging barrels of water down the towpath on our submersible trolley. I still haven't got the lights fitted but the wiring is all in place. I have to get the the lining completed above the gunwales; least at the front in the living area.

'y's are a real problem with Lisa's computer. I'm not trying to make excuses for my appalling spelling but there you go. The 'y's still don't work and neither does my spelling.

The mooring police have been visiting today and have placed notices on all the boats that have been mooring on the non-towpath side and just noted the names of all those of us on the towpath side.

An appalling meal and a real fire

We are now back on home soil (of sorts) having travelled from Hawksbury junction. A pretty uneventful day except for our lunchtime meal. We pulled up at the moorings on the Ashby at Bulkington to try the Corner pub mentioned in my old Nicholson's. According to the book this served "good bar meals". Well it doesn't. It serves appalling rubbish that it calls food. I shall be boycotting all Marston's taverns in future if this is the standard of the cuisine. My frozen fish had been boiled in water and was tasteless tripe. I even doubt if it had ever been a living creature swimming the the sea. The veg was also from the freezer and had been boiled to buggery. As for the cheese sauce (I thought that might be a mistake) it was a white sauce with cheese flavouring powder added (maybe). It's a long time since I've had a meal that bad.

Lisa had a combi and the steak was like two bulls testicles and the scampi was minuscule. When is five onion rings ever considered a serving? The whole thing was advertised as two for one and so it was. If I had arrived there by myself and been charged full price, I would have had the manager in one hand and the chef in the other metaphorically gripped around the throat and pinned to the wall to ask them no uncertain terms what they thought they were doing ruining what could have been decent food (on second thoughts, I very much doubt it could have been rescued).

Needless to say that when the waitress asked if everything was all right (surly moo) we replied that "yes it was". Ohh! we are brave aren't we. Just don't like to make a fuss. But we left after only one pint and they'll never see us again. Not that I suppose they care if their customer care is anything like their food.

Les on nb Valerie agrees with me that the Barley Moe at Newbold is a good meal and good value according his blog.

We have called Eddie from the Boatman Stove advertised in the back of Waterwas World and he will have a stove delivered to us in the next week or so. He seemed very helpful and I have read that he is.

Returning home

For whatever reason, I didn't write a blog last night. Yesterday before we set off, nb Hadar passed us by and I shouted the required hello and introduced the boat. Keith and Jo waved and passed by as they were in a rush somewhere. Very nice boat. We then made our way the the pie pub (Folly)at the bottom of Napton locks. We had a pint of Guinness each but didn't have the pie in the end as Lisa had made a particularly large breakfast. Apparently we missed Sue on nb No Problem by half an hour judging by her blog. Next time perhaps.

After lunch we winded and made our way towards our home canal again as Lisa had realised that she had a hairdressing appointment on Saturday morning (cannot imagine why she didn't realise that before). On arrival at Hillmorton top lock we had to reverse into the mooring and the trolley that we keep on top got caught in the bushes and, you guessed it, it ended up in the canal. Do we ever learn anything. This morning Lisa recovered the trolley with the boat pole whilst I held the boat steady.

For lunch we ened up at the Barley Mow at Newbold again and this time we both had a massive mixed grill for less than six quid each. The new owners are really trying to make an impact and it is well worth a visit. Tonight we are at Hawksbury junction after being followed for some of the way by two boats containing the competitive middle class families from hell. Lisa actually steered the boat for several miles, around bends and passed both moored and passing boats. Very brave. She'll be winding outside the Greyhound at Hawksbury in one go before long. Then again pigs might be queing up at security in Heathrow.

Towel overboard

Had a late start today and made or way down to Braunston to visit the PO and The Plough. The meal was very good although a little more expensive that we are used to (about a pound). The wind was a little gusty but when we started again on the way to Napton it really took hold. We had moored just beyond the winding point outside the marina and had to back up to the entrance to turn. Every time I attempted to put the bow into the entrance, the wind blew us sideways and I missed it. The pole was useless so I opted to back into the entrance and wind with the bow in the canal. and the stern in the marina Worked much better and a lesson learned.

The remainder of the journey was just as eventful and the boat seemed not to react too well on occasions. In the morning we had lost a couple of tee shirts and the collapsible dryer as someone had placed it outside in the cratch as that same someone thought that it would be a good drying day. Indeed it would have been if the said person could have kept the items to be dried out of the canal. The tee shirts are never to be dry again and are destined to wrap themselves around some unsuspecting boater's propeller in future times.

Talking of which we lost the dogs towel in the early part of the afternoon under the same circumstances (we never learn from our mistakes). By the time we were about a mile from the junction with the Grand Union I'd had enough of struggling with the thing. I had put the struggle down to the wind but thought I'd have a look down the weed hatch. Yip. You're right. There it was, the dogs towel wrapped around the prop. I'm not surprised the boat wasn't doing what it was told. Well you live and learn. Or in our case not.