The Slightly Disappointing Beer Festival

The Nottingham Beer Festival was quite good but there were some problems along the way. The organisers had vastly underestimated the amount of people who would turn up at the new festival site. It's quite obvious to me that when you change a venue from Victoria Swimming Baths to Nottingham Castle it's more likely that more people will hear about it and therefore, turn up. It's also likely that the tourists who are at the castle anyway will pop over to the vast white beer tent and sample a few.

It would've been nice to have some live music in the main beer tent rather than in a separate tent although I think that it encouraged a load of students who would not have otherwise attended the event. We did say that we would mention two people that we met at the music tent so hello James and friend It was lovely talking to you. They'd been there since eleven that morning and had been there for eight hours by the time we met them and had every intention of staying till the end. They give no sign, as we left them, that this would not be the case. More staying power than us.

By the time that we turned up at about five on Saturday, the souvenir beer mugs had run out as had the programs that you rely on to make your choices. We managed to find a mud spattered one to find our way but that's not really the point.

It's got to be said that the venue was stunning and kind of blew your mind a bit (what was left of it) when coming out of the

beer tent at the end of the night looking down on Nottingham. It is a constant source of bewilderment to me, and a source of annoyance to the many tourists that turn up, that Nottingham Castle is not actually a castle at all and merely a large house on a cliff top. The gate house is authentic but the rest is nonsense. Although as a Nottingham born and bred person, Lisa refutes this

When we left we wanted some chips as we were expecting faggots and mushy peas at the festival but this has now been contracted to outside caterers. We were not paying their prices nor did they have faggots and peas on their menu's (but there was a small container of olives for five pounds. When did olives and real ale ever go together?). Another tradition sadly lost to modern business practices. We were also on the 'wrong' side of Nottingham for chippys. Our one saving grace was McDonalds (God we must have been sozzelled). “I'm sorry Madam but we can't serve you since you don't have a car”. Don't ask.

Lesson learned. Friday is the time to attend. Even CAMRA members who had come from other areas were not at all happy with the organisation. These are serious people with the serious task of drinking as many types and as much beer as is responsibly possible within their lifetime and bad organisation detracts from that task.

Robin's looking quite down at heel these days. The bottom limb is missing from his bow. If it was present the bow would not be long enough to be a longbow of this era. It's also the wrong type of bow and bends mostly mid limb and does not 'come round compass', although it may be slightly recurved which again is not correct for English bowmen of the period. It will break at this point sooner rather than later on any all wood bow. 

Also I'm not sure what the purpose of the binding towards the end of the limb tip is, Possibly there may have been damage at this point or a lift on the backing he's attempting to temporarily repair. It's not a good idea as it adds weight to the tip and slows cast and therefore range. The handle binding is also not normal in medieval bows. 

The fletchs on the arrows are modern parabolic. The point is not of a recognisable type by the British Museum criteria. The arrow spine is too low for the poundage of the bow. The draw is also wrong and the anchor point is too low.

God I am a boring bugger. I hope to be starting to make longbows again in November. I'm obviously missing it.

Oh dear.

Anybody got any Asprin?

Beer

Nottingham at last. We left Trent Lock after a car shuffle and made our way down the Trent through Beeston Lock and are now on the moorings where Homebase used to be. I say used to be as we have not been here for ten years and they have built flats where the DIY shop used to be. They didn't even have the decency to ask our permission.

We are making our way up to Nottingham Castle and the Beer Festival in half an hour so don't expect a running commentary for the next twelve hours or so. In fact don't expect any verbal communication after about nine o'clock.

Oh by the way. I had a bit of a mishap yesterday when going through Derwent Mouth Lock. I was 

coming in to land before the lock and jumped off realizing that I may be going a little fast, wrapped the centre line around the bollard but instead of wrapping it once around the bollard I did it twice. The inevitable happened and the rope snagged on itself and the boat came to a sudden halt but the momentum canted the thing over to what seemed like thirty degrees. One of our kitchen units fell over and we lost all our glasses and several other instantly replaceable items. It is a surprise what a mess it all made but it looked worst than it actually was, Fortunately I had it all cleaned up before Lisa came home from work and I could make up my own version of events.

Stunning Shardlow

It was Wednesday so it must have been Shardlow. Now this is more like it. We got away from Alrewas at lunchtime and after an overnight stop at Willington we have arrived here for a couple of days while the Trent goes back down to normal levels. No one here is over amiable with no, “Hello”s being offered but it is very canal friendly, indeed canal centred. The village is split into two distinct parts, one based around the canal the other around the road.

 Guess which one's more interesting. There's a good canal based industrial heritage and whilst the main road goes through both parts of the village, the canal wanderers through the smaller part at right

 angles to the main road.

The warehouses look great whether converted or not. There are also several wharfs and associated side arms, four pubs, a boatyard, good chandlery, two marinas, two basins, boat hire operation, loads of on-line mooring all in a village of less than a hundred homes.

It's also closer to work for Lisa which is good for my health and well being as well as Lisa's. She

 had a bit of a wobble earlier in the week and was complaining (rather vocally I thought) about the length of time it took her to get to work but that was then and this isn't. I've let her back on-board again.

The floods have subsided and it's time to move on to Trent Lock today. I've been here for sixty four hours now instead of forty eight and will probably be ticked off for being a constant moorer by the 'rules is rules' brigade before long.

Eerie Alrewas

Yesterday we popped down to London to see Terri and carry out some maintenance tasks that were required by her. We visited a large Swedish furniture store that sells brilliant furniture, put it together ignoring the missing screws and extra bits of wood and binning all the extra ones, attached it all to the wall in case it all falls apart, tidied said room lifting all the clothes off the floor and put them in the wardrobe, cleaned it up and embarrassed said daughter in front of her friends (well there's little point in being a parent if you can't do that) and drove home again. All very exciting but I wouldn't want to live there.

Alrewas is a rather weird place. On the surface it is a typically quaint little English village but there is a sinister undercurrent. I am currently stuck here as the river is in flood due to the rain after arriving here at nine o'clock this morning from Fradley Junction. There is no graffiti except that which is placed there by the local council who deem it necessary to stencil, 'NO DOG FOULING. CLEAN IT UP. MAX FINE £1000' (or something like that) on all available surfaces including bins, the pavement every fifty metres, walls etc. Everyone is very polite and says, “Good morning” as if I was one of them. Well I'm not and as soon as Alrewas Lock opens I'm off again. It reminds me of The Village in the 60's series, The Prisioner. I'm not a number. I'm a free man (until Lisa comes home from work).

Everything is very ordered, conservative (and very probably Conservative) restrained, polite and regular but this is all on the surface (presumably alongside the graffiti). There is a multitude of 'Do Not...' signs with many private roads and cute buildings and in amongst all of this order is what is euphemistically called a gated community. Unfortunately anyone who wants to, or lives in, a gated community knows and cares nothing about community and very probably believes there is no such thing as society (now where have I heard that before). Why are many gated communities in areas where there is no crime.? It cannot be about security. It must be a status thing. If there is one thing that Alrewas doesn't need it's a gated community. Maybe the gates are to keep the eerie undercurrent out. 

Towards more beer

Lisa had her lesson observation on Friday and obviously she got an 'Outstanding'. That means that her whole department got the 'Outstanding'. As Head of Department (always amazes Lisa this) she was under a certain amount of pressure to achieve the best possible outcome as every other member had already been observed with brilliant results and this is why I had not mentioned this before. Just in case.

Well, we are just short of Fradley Junction as of Saturday night. We set off for Nottingham Beer Festival yesterday and I made my way to Atherstone top lock to be met by Lisa, coincidently just as she finished work, so she could help me down the flight. It may have been coincidence and it may not. Who is to say.

We are popping down to see Terri in London tomorrow and have left the car at Fradley so have to have an early start to complete the journey tomorrow and so collect the car so have to get up at about six in the morning. It was a little windy today and I hate to admit it but I hit several boats on the way here. Well not really hit. More graze really. They say (who does) that narrowboating is a contact sport but I don't like doing it. After one contact, someone several boats ahead asked if I had hit the blue boat and I had to admit that I had. He said, “Good”. No idea why but it made me feel better.

We have brought back a large amount of wine in cartons from France with every intention of decanting it every night into half litre jugs but as we expected, this has never worked very well. Much more wine is being consumed that we had planned. Much more.

I've painted the pole and boat hook and I think they look quite good but the boarding plank may be a little too much in the red department and I may have to tone it down a little. Lisa has asked the question, 'Who put you in charge of aesthetics'? Well I did of course. I still have to paint the sides of the boat with British racing green as the primer makes the thing still look a bit ropey. I've also bought the timber to manufacture the bulkheads this week and we'll see how far we get by the end of the week. Pictures to follow when I can be bothered.

Editors!!!

My editor has told me that I need to clarify my previous blog. When I said that I enjoyed single handed cruising, I obviously didn't mean cruising without Lisa. It is her, after all, that supplies the driver sustenance and liquid refreshment. I meant to say that it would not be a problem single handed cruising but obviously a full complement of crew would be much better.

Are you happy now? As if any of this really needed saying. My editor really is a pain in the ass.

Lining finished and more beer

We're toying with the idea of popping (as much as you can 'pop' on a narrowboat) up to Nottingham for the Beer festival on the 9^th - 12^th of next month. If we do we'll start off early next week and we'll probably come back this way in a couple of weeks and complete the Leicestershire Ring on the way. We did it before when we had the original Pickles (an old Dawncraft) but I could do with a bit of a trip. Unfortunately Lisa will have to work and will be commuting during the day and I will be single handed for the cruising but I rather enjoy that.

We both originally hailed from Nottingham and moved down to Leicestershire six or seven years ago when we sold our homes. Just about anywhere on the Leicester Ring is about an hour or less from Lisa's work so that shouldn't be a problem.

I realize that this will do my bridge hopping credentials no end of harm but that's just the price I'll have to pay.

I've finished the lining with only one roof 

panel to go. I'll be starting the bulkheads next week and that should see the end of the ply getting in the way on the boat and will provide more wall space to pile things up against and also give us a dedicated bathroom and bedroom. Oh the novelty of normal living (of a sorts). It's just ripping along.

Winter moorings & good ailments

There's two other liveaboards/bridge hoppers where we are currently moored around here and none of us are sporting blue tarpaulins. Rules is rules. There's a pound shop in Hinckley that sells 6x4 blue tarpaulins for, well a pound, so there's no excuse. I may end up having to issue them to qualifying passing boaters. We are possibly at the top end of that particular category of boater and don't need one.

The Handbook of Continuous Cruisers states that:

Sect 54; Sub sect 2d:

a) All Continuous cruisers shall sport at least one tarpaulin that shall be blue in colour. No other colour should be used as the primary tarpaulin.

b) Other tarpaulins of any colour(s) may be used (with the exception of lemon) up to a maximum of seven but these should only be used as the secondary tarpaulins.

c) Tarpaulins may be used for any purpose including covering the rear deck of a cruiser, covering unknown/disgusting objects on the roof, hanging by one piece of old rope from a handrail for no discernible purpose other than to indicate the presence of said Continuous Cruiser, screwed up, dumped in front well deck, and other similar purposes.

d)The older the tarpaulin (especially the primary tarpaulin) the more credibility and prestige the boater should receive from fellow Continuous Cruisers.

e) There shall be absolutely no exceptions to these rules for those who come into the above category.

Well that's quite clear isn't it? I stand corrected.

I, and several other liveaboards around these parts, have speculatively tried to get a winter mooring to save moving around during those months. It seems that you cannot ask for a particular place even if it has been used in the past for winter moorings but have to submit and they allocate the mooring. Well that's a thousand or so quid that won't be going into BW's pocket. If I'm paying for a mooring I'm sure as hell not going to let them choose where it is going to be. They couldn't get away with that kind of thing with any other group of boater. It could have paid for a couple of pointless bollards. A little short sighted if you ask me.

Who actually represents continuous cruisers? I'm sure that all the relevant groups will say that it's them but from what I've read, it seems to be no-one. If there are so many of us, maybe we should start our own pressure group.I propose a working title, Society of Continuous cruising Users Movement. Well it works for me.

I've been unwell for the past couple of days (no, I'm not looking for your sympathy) and if you are going to be unwell, this is the one that is well worth being unwell with, albeit only once, to experience the effects. I know it's no fun listening to someone else's ailments but this 'un's a good 'un.

It's called labyrinthitis (now there's a spoof complaint if ever I've heard one). It affects your inner ear and therefore your balance and has the affect of making you feel and seem drunk without the expense or inconvenience of having to buy alcohol. If it wasn't for the fact that I was laying on the bed for the first day with my head hanging into a bucket (it is a little disorientating) I'd recommend it for everyone. The first day it was like I'd drunk three bottles of wine, the second two and today was just the one. I'll probably have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.

Cults and Tooters

I am officially a cult or a sect or somesuch and have a 'follower'. My 'follower' is in fact Jo and Keith on nb Hadar. I think this is all a little spooky and not a little disturbing but Blogger, my blogging medium, has developed this thing that I can see no point of at all. I am allowed followers. These are apparently people who read my blog from Blogger but I've no idea what the point of it is. I'm also not sure what the advantages are over using Google reader and subscribing to the blogs that you want to read there. Presumably to allow the blogger to identify who their followers are. Always useful.

Lisa is very easy to please. Many women would be happy with nothing less than a new kitchen. Lisa, on the other hand, is perfectly content with some Fablon with pictures of pebbles on it to use as a worktop surface. Saves an absolute fortune.

This canside sign left me a little baffled. Narrowboats are two a penny these days. Just turn up at a broker, view the boats, choose the one you want and offer about a third of the asking price and it's yours. Why you'd want to put a sign up indication that you want one seems a little pointless.

Why do tooters think they have priority over the rest of us non-tooters? I am not a tooter, have never been a tooter, will never be a tooter nor do I even have a device enabled for tooting. Tooting is not something I find at all comforting nor have I the necessary inclination to toot. I am also unlikely to hear the tooter's toot as I am standing on top of 42bhp of throbbing moving parts that have not been completely covered.

Tooters seem to think that if they toot prior to arrival at a blind corner, bridge 'ole, etc that we non-tooters will think, 'Hang on. There's a tooter 'round the bend here. I'd best hang back and give them priority and the ability to charge through the blind bit without looking'. For two hundred years the unwritten rule has been, 'they who arrive at the blind bit first have priority'. It has never been, 'they who toot first have priority'. As a fully trained clinical psychologist I believe that tooters are insecure, unconfident people who need tooting as a way of screaming at the world, 'I'm here, I'm important, take notice of me.'

On the other hand I may be totally wrong.

A motorized kayak. I somehow doubt they toot either. Seems like a good piece of kit though.

Quiet Shackerstone and more bonkers writers

Well Shackerstone has reverted back to it's normal very quiet ways and all of the interloping boats and boaters have gone their separate ways (well not really. They all went the same way; back to the Coventry Canal). We are still here and are now moored around the corner where the historic boats were. We've used this week to clean the mud from the boat and will move on this weekend.

When we were on our way to Snarestone to wind we met Hadar on their way back down the Ashby. It was brilliant to put a name to a face and a person to a boat in meeting Jo and Keith at the non-festival. And fellow bloggers to boot. The boat's not too bad either.

I've finished one side of the above gunwale lining. Next week the other side. I'll be glad to be rid of all those 4x8 sheets as they take up so much room.

Without wishing to repeat myself, there is a superb email communication that should be brought to others attention on Narrowboatworld. Narrowboatworld is now anti-narrowboat judging by this entry. The email page has a (spoof?) mail from one Tim Atkinson, a Thames boater with a 'classic' motor boat. He rants about narrowboaters, liveaboards and generators and is obviously anti-narrowboat himself. He has even implied that he has put sugar into a generator owned by a narrowboater. I think that Tom Crossley has missed the criminal element of this but saw the anti-liveaboard angle and published it anyway. Tim even got in the word 'scum' to describe narrowboaters. This email has very similar sentiments to the spoof letter I blogged here several blogs ago.

Mr Atkinson, I doff my hat to you sir. For sure, you are a comic genius.

Tall people & miscommunication

There seems to be a preponderance of tall people in Shakerstone. These are locals and not visiting boaters. I'm used to looking down on people (especially people I live with) and think it's disconcerting to have to look at people on the same level or even higher. There must be something in the water 'round here. There's certainly something in the beer as we went up to the Raising Sun yesterday afternoon and with every intention in the world of returning in the evening to watch the live band, we were flat out in bed by eight o'clock. Gone are the days when Lisa and I could drink twelve pints and sing a merry song. Oh no! Back to bed after a couple of pints for our cocoa. The impromptu folk at the pub was good anyway with the occupants of some the ex-working boats and of nb Talisman talking the 'elm.

On Friday I had been working on the plywood boards which will eventually be the lining of Pickles no 2 and cutting one of the porthole cut-outs that I had marked up. I looked at the man hanging out of the rear door of the boat in front and he was obviously trying to tell me something by drawing his hand across his throat. I thought 'cheeky bugger telling me to keep the noise down. I'm allowed to use my electric saw during the day'. I looked again and he was doing the same thing. Well he's either telling me he's going to cut my throat or to stop using my saw. I went stomping around the boat all indignant chuntering to myself.

Later I found out that they had cancelled the festival and realised that he neither wanted to cut my throat nor to keep the noise down but that the event was no more. I spoke to him later and he confirmed this as he was neither carrying a knife nor wearing ear defenders. This miscommunication could have turned ugly if I had confronted him instead of sulking around the boat. I don't know what the moral of this story is but there must be one.

I've included some pictures here of some of the ex-working boats that attended the non-festival. As usual the boaters seemed to make the best of it and even last night in the pouring rain, the ex-working boaters were holding a BBQ on the muddy towpath under a tarpaulin.

A soggy end

It's all over here. The Shakerstone Festival has been cancelled due to the ground conditions and general weather. It has been raining all week and the place is a quagmire. In the end they couldn't get the stuff onto the site by vehicle. The only thing open is the been tent this evening with the musicians intact. They put some hey at the entrances at the start of the day and I was dubious as to their worth. There are about twenty or so ex-working boats here but other than the pub and beer tent it's all a bit of wasted effort. Well it's never really a waste if beer is involved.

This week I watched a certain ex-working boat (which will remain nameless) attempting to moor. A fellow boater took the lines and was helping pull the boat in but was shouted at by the owner of the boat to, “leave my lines alone and don't pull me in”. I thought this was a little mean spirited and harsh as he was only trying to help. This attitude just emphasises what many narrowboat owners already think about historic boat owners.

Well most owners of non-historic boats would also believe that others who own ex-working boats would know what they are doing and how to handle their boat but this is seemingly not the case. This chap had ample room to moor albeit it was a little shallow at the edges and to find a decent spot he had to move about a bit but just couldn't manage it. He manoeuvred back and forth jumping on and off his boat with his three lines, hauling on them then hopping back on his boat to try another manoeuvre. He tried every move in the book but couldn't get it into the bank. The Ashby is very shallow here at the banks as it is saucer shaped.

To cut what ended up as a long story short after forty five minutes he finally tied his lines for the last time. No-one helped him (I wonder why) but I think that many, like me, were sniggering from the safety of our own boats. I would love to have been brave enough to bring a chair up to beside his boat with a cup of tea to watch the spectacle.

To top it all my starter battery has died as I suspected it might. I'll make do with the smaller van battery I've been using until I can get a proper decent one to fit. It's a little underpowered but beggars can't be choosers.

I've just noticed that for some inexplicable reason I have fifty members of my blog audience according to my Feedburner count. Haven't you all got better things to do?

Shakerstone Festival site

On Sunday Jo from Hadar arrived to introduce herself but it was a bit of a flying visit as I had volunteered to help with the setting up of the festival site so had to get across there. Several others from the Ashby Canal Association were also present and during the rather wet day we set up the arena, the car park and various other roped off areas. From nothing, other than a few pegs in the ground, by the end of the day it was looking like a festival site as there were others including the marquee erectors working on site. Thursday and Friday are the next working days to finalize the site for the weekend.

Things are beginning to look a little muddy and as far as I know this weather is here to stay. We will see but you can't have a festival without mud in the UK. It wouldn't be the same. I've always wanted to do mud sliding like they were doing in 1968 at Woodstock although I think that highly unlikely at Shakerstone. 'elfin safety might take a dim view. With the average age of the visitors being a little older than the Woodstock crowd there my be a few broken hips as well.

There are more boats arriving every day and the historic boats are also starting to arrive. People are breasting up and we are expecting to have to by the weekend although I don't envy anyone breasting up to grumpy. Nor next to me either.

I have cut all the boards for the lining out today and will start screwing into the bearers tomorrow so no more visible spray foam and wiring. I'll miss that (not).