Revelations and growlers

We're all shuffling around on the Ashby Canal with the water now free flowing and this is a good thing. Unfortunately, as of the other week, I am now half a century old and this is not necessarily a good thing. On the up side, Lisa bought me a Kindle ebook reader. Like everyone else who has one, I was a little suspicious that I wouldn't use it, but it has been a revelation and I Haven't read so much. I have downloaded over fifty free books and I may even buy one if Amazon are lucky. Although that won't happen for a while so, Amazon, don't get your hopes up and don't do any unnecessary investment.

We have also bought some new batteries and these too have been revelation. You forget how good new batteries are and it improves life greatly. We no longer have to moor in the middle of nowhere so we can run the engine to ten and just to watch the telly to half past. Power to the people (or at least the couple). I wanted 135amp batteries but the cost was not worth the extra amps.  We have to budget for cheap new batteries every year as they never seem to last longer. Cheap and nasty, that's just me.

We are currently at the terminus of the Ashby and, since our last visit, there has been a bit of work done on the extension. An extra hundred yards have been completed. This includes a small footbridge made from lightweight aluminium that won't be there the next time we get here. The problem is that if you want water, and since the existing sanitary block has ice damage to the pipes and cannot be used, the alternative pipework is in a framer's field opposite. You have to moor your boat, bow against the bridge.

It's already dented and the fittings are from your garden gate. I thought about taking a photo but was so amazed by the builders/planners incompetence, I forgot. See it while you can as, by the summer, it'll be on the side covered in mud and weeds having been crashed into, fallen into the canal, been hauled out and left abandoned in the hedge. I wonder how much it cost? Probably a lot more than the foot bridge at Stretton Stop at Rose Narrowboats that has been there for years but doesn't look as nice (my English teacher always told me never to use the word 'nice'. No idea why)

A new sine wave inverter and a new toilet system are also on the cards as Lisa wants to wash her smalls on the move and sit on a china bowl while she's doing them. It's in the hands of the gods whether she can convince me and she may have to complete a cost/benefit analysis including flip charts, graphs, Power Point presentations, written reports and a small group of skin headed growlers armed with baseball bats to change my mind. It's more likely in the hands of this group rather than of the gods.

Old filters and new sofas

Lisa's been complaining of a bad back lately and her symptoms are exactly the same as mine when I have a bad back. I am, however, a little sceptical as she has been watching me with a bad back for years and I think she's just after the sympathy vote. Anyway, she's too small to have a bad back as she doesn't even have a back.

We've gone all Moroccan

I have failed in my abilities as responsible for the maintenance of the working parts of the boat. We ran out of diesel the other day and the primary filter was clogged up beyond help and I didn't have a spare. So I cleaned it out in clean diesel and hoped that would last a couple of days until after the holidays and I could get another. Unfortunately my technique for bleeding the fuel system was incorrect (as I later found) and, with the blocked filter, by the time the fuel was just starting to enter the system, the inadequate starter battery was finished. And there was nothing left in the leisure batteries either. So we ran out of energy and with the generator not working correctly and not allowing me to charge the starter battery, we were stranded without our electricity generator. Any solution was going to cost just under a hundred quid so I decide to cut my losses and call RCR in an attempt to get maximum chance of starting for my money.

The chap duely arrived and sorted the problem and I got a second hand starter battery to boot. Excellent service and we aren't even members although we did promise to join, which of course we will. I even got a free course in properly bleeding the system for when this happens again (which it surely will). He even said my wiring was good (on second thoughts, he was probably drunk). Highly recommended to one and all although wait until your first breakdown then join over the phone.

I've finally clad the front inside of the boat with timber, in this case t&g. It looks a lot better than the old look of yellowing spray foam insulation. That was looking a little tired. So last year. Next, apparently, I am required to make the steps into the boat, a coat cupboard (a coatboard?) inside the door and a small table opposite.

Don't be stupid, of course it'll fit

I've had enough and need a glass of wine

 It always looks better in the morning

We've now bought a new leather sitee/sofa from Ikea for £160 and got rid of our chairs. It was the perfect size for the boat and was easily fitted through the front door. At least it was after we had man-handled it down the towpath (I can say 'man-handled' as Lisa took no part in this activity). We left the store with most of the sitee/sofa hanging out of the back of our little Peugeot 106. Well, we have in the past, moved house in smaller cars than this. It was too heavy for Lisa so she dropped it as soon as we got in from the car to the towpath. I tried to get it on my head but it was too large. So, since I was on my own with Lisa only taking photos, I decided that the hundred or so metres to the boat could only be completed by wheeling this giant cardboard package down the muddy towpath end over end. I can't say it was my finest moment and I wasn't best pleased but was grateful that it was dark with no moon. But at least it wasn't raining. I also had to disassemble the cratch to get it in.

Is it called a sitee or a sofa? Are they the same thing? Or is it a couch? I really don't know. Lisa calls it a sitee but that must be sooooo working class it can't be right. Any ideas?

Christmas skiing in France

We've been skiing over the Christmas period as we don't really like the whole Christmas thing. Lisa, Terri and myself in a tiny apartment in Tignes, France. A superb week and the first time skiing for about five years. It was also the first time that Terri has spent a considerable time with us since she went to uni. It may also be the last as she is on her last year and will be in the job market next year. We got her to go with us by making it all inclusive for her but even that may not have sweetened the fact that she was stuck with us for a whole week. No broken legs or cracked heads only bruised egos and busted skiing reputations. I am now not an advanced skier any longer and have handed the mantel to Terri.

It never ceases to amaze me how ridiculous Lisa and I look together (and those glasses don't help at all).

We thought that when we got back the ice on the canal would have melted but no such luck. Still nobody is moving. One of the other livaboard boats is up for sale but I don't know if it is related to the current iced in situation but I wouldn't be surprised. It's all a little depressing, well not really depressing but a little anticlimactic after the pristine environment of Tignes). I had drained down the water system but didn't do the central heating and one of the connections had expanded and broken. Half an hour after getting back on board the fires were burning and the joint had been fixed from my vast box of spares. Other than that, no problems except the four hour delay in getting the boat back up to heat.

We did nothing over New Year only drink French wine and beer. Very comforting.

Pump it up

The water pump was running when we woke up this morning. I feared the worst and thought that the impeller would have worn out. On inspection, I realised that it is a diaphragm pump and they can run dry without a problem. We've been running low on water lately and were down to the bottom of the water tank but I couldn't see any water in the filter meaning that there was a blockage somewhere. I think that a piece of ice formed into the pipe nearest the tank and stopped the flow.

A very wet hour later, pump out, pipework disconnected, stick wirey things up and down the pipework, blow through and the problem was sorted. I had already rang around the local chandlers and there was not spare parts to be had anywhere so it was fortunate that the pump was good. I was the one who built the system and it was built with ease of maintenance in mind.

I have been reading blogs this week and someone had changed their starter battery and it took four hours due to bad planning by the builders. Also someone else is living in a hotel as the radiators give out insufficient heat for the size of their boat (and the loo tank is full and can't be emptied). Boat builders have a lot to answer for don't they. I'm always boring people by saying that low tech always works but high tech may not.

We've had enough of being iced in now. The novelty has well and truly worn off. A little sun would be lovely please. Thank you.

From a warm comfy bed to a frozen one.

We arrived back at the boat after a wonderfully relaxing weekend break at the folk festival. It really was very good although I'm still not convinced about Butlins and Lisa is still not convinced about folk music. We may have to try it all again next year.

The boat was frozen when we returned. Fortunately I dropped Lisa straight off to work before I got the dog from the kennels, returned and lit the fire and the Rayburn. It took about four hours for the boat to recover to it's original cosy state and the water gurgling around the central heating system. Sam was not impressed and sat on the chair in front of the small Boatman stove shivering for the first hour. I think she's forgiven us for leaving her in her dog hotel.

I was quite lucky with the calorifier as ice had formed inside it, expanded and water had been forced out of the cap of the element, past the rubber seal. Fortunately it was not tight enough to keep the water inside and distort the cylinder (at least I can't see any through the insulation). I'll make a vow to be more prepared for Christmas.

Thought I'd post a winter picture of Pickles No2 before the ice melts and the picture would look stupid.Or I would do if Blogger would let me. It's seemingly impossible today.

Is Blogger the most useless piece of software ever written? Everyday I get more and more exasperated with all things Google. Maybe it's time for a change. I've now got a parallel, identical  blog in Wordpress and may move across lock stock and 2 smokers if it all works out.

Butlins

Here we are at The Great British Folk Festival at Butlins, Skegness. A bit of an epic journey here and the weather worsened with progress. We were both going on different weekends. I was off to a folk festival and packed accordingly with a small day sack with one pair of jeans and a pair of underpants. Lisa was, however, off to Butlins and packed with two changes of clothes per day into an extremely large suitcase that occupies the whole rear of the car.

I have again been proved correct and the Skegness statement of it's Bracing has been proved correct and the wind bites right into you. People can't see what you're wearing under your overcoat.

The Friday evening entertainment was reasonably good, the accommodation is clean and the food is edible despite the garish primary colours and loud piped music. It's a good idea to keep away from the carbs and stick to the protein.

Butlins and the captive retail outlets have all got the demographics of this temporary populace completely wrong. The paper shop is full of Daily Mails and The Sun and he only ordered one Guardian. I'm afraid it's full of bearded, jumper wearing liberals and they're not likely to read the Mail.

There's not enough real ale either. They have set up a small real ale bar beside the main bars but the queue for the real ale is horrendous whilst the main bars are relatively quiet.

Lisa has also been recounting her childhood experiences of Butlins and showing me around the place reminiscing. "Yes, very interesting Lisa. Can we go for a pint now otherwise I'm going to slit my wrists."

Oops!

I'm in deep shit. Lisa was visiting Terri with Pearl in London and having a girly day out. Half an hour after she left, a friend of mine rang and asked if I fancied a pint. Of course I did and off we went. In the pub, I was summoned to Sunday lunch once he found out I was on my own for the day. So be it, off we went for a great spread (Cheers Peter and Angela). Only trouble was that Peter is a lover of red wines (as am I). Much wine sampling later, I was taken back to the boat a tad unsteady on my pins awaiting Lisa's return. I promptly fell asleep and Lisa could not revive me by banging on the boat and shouting through the closed portholes. Oops. 20 minutes in freezing weather did not improve her mood and much chastising and shouting at me ensued.

I'm now in the dog house. Even the dog's not in the dog house. Am I in the shit? Yip. Will I be in the shit for some time? Yip. Well I be forgiven? Sometime in the new year I should imagine. Lisa doesn't do forgiveness particularly well.

(Note to self. Get Lisa a key cut)

New boots

A gift from Lisa. New winter boots. 

Just right for those trips down the muddy towpath.with all our worldly goods.

Different sorts of boater

There are various sorts of boater. Liveaboards, constant cruisers, marina dwellers, weekend boaters, bridge hoppers and the rest. Liveaboards can be identified huddling around the Elsan disposal point clutching their containers of unmentionable, constant cruisers by the ease with which they do that tricky manoeuvre, marina dwellers by their smug look, weekenders by the amount of luggage they walk down the pontoon to their boat in the marina on a Friday evening, Bridge hoppers by their blue tarpaulins.

But there are one sort of boater who we all hate. The liveaboard constant cruiser who goes into a marina at the first sign of inclement weather. Yes, that's right, I'm talking about you nbArmadillo. It's ok in the summer talking the big talk to gongoozlers, telling tall tales of five foot snow drifts, floods, hurricane strength winds and famine but come crunch time, it's up sticks and into the nearest safe haven to hook up the umbilical cord. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

We'd much rather be trudging down the towpath with our three gallons of shit in one hand and two sacks of rubbish in the other and returning with twenty gallons of water, a weeks shopping, five gallons of diesel and a sack or two of smokeless. At least it's honourable. At least we can keep our heads held high. At least we can tell true stories of hardship in the Red Lion at Market Bosworth on a Friday evening.

Call yourselves boaters. I wash my hands of you.

There again...

Back home with a new kitchen

We're now well established back on the Ashby Canal at our favourite mooring. I'm not going to tell you where it is as you'll all want to moor up next to us. Then it wouldn't be our favourite mooring any more, would it. What about that sheep syndrome. What's that all about. Why do boaters moor right next to another boat when in the middle of nowhere. Weird behaviour or what. Why don't you all just bugger off.

The kitchen is now finished, more or less (less cupboard doors). The worktop was actually made by me as we wanted to build the whole thing ourselves and not have to buy anything already made. It also took the longest time. Lisa wanted a farmhouse style with a thick work top (not necessarily a thick builder) and we're quite pleased with the result (even Lisa's impressed and she's notoriously difficult to keep happy).

I'm wearing flowers in my hair today in celebration of the release of Aung San Suu Kyi. (fortunately, no pictures)

New kitchen and filters

After the weekend at Fradley we have been venturing back towards the Ashby. Seeing more and more boats that we recognise again. I think that the Ashby liveaboards are leaving their home base until the November BW count has been completed. They'll do the same in March then move back on again.

Lisa insisted that I start building the kitchen over the weekend and it is now partially finished. I'll finish it this week and next weekend. Lisa's original plan was to paint the t&g gloss black and paint the boat name etc as per what we are planning for the side of the boat. She has since chickened out with this idea. She thinks it may be a step too far. I think it would be a wonderful idea and would make it quite unique and a talking point for any visitors. But could we live with it?

We overnighted at Polesworth. The town is much maligned and I cannot find anyone who likes it (not that I've looked of course). However we do like the place as it is convenient for the shops and fish and chip shop although we haven't tried the pubs. It is a quiet mooring and the place has a bit of history about it. Ok, some weird and shifty people.

On the way from Fradley I felt a little fuel starvation from the engine and it wasn't running right. The last time I sorted this with some new filters so called into Streethay Wharf for a diesel top up and some filters. I fitted them in the morning and everything on the engine front is now as sweet as a nut. Although it took a couple of attempts to get it started and at one stage I thought I would have to join RCR (God forbid). The old fuel filter was really filthy. Changed the air filter as well for good measure. The engine can actually breath now.

There were loads of leaves in the cut. It was a veritable brown carpet in places. In fact the Coventry Canal has turned a shade of green with all the leaf mould that has dropped into it. It seemed like I had to put the engine into reverse every couple of minutes. Atherstone locks were the worst and the locks were full of them.

At the top there were about fifty primary schoolchildren out for a day trip to find how locks worked. A noisy and disconcerting audience if ever I saw one. When I am doing narrow locks by myself, I nudge into the bottom gate and either sit there in first gear if it's full, then open the gates manually or nudge the gates open if it's not full. Can't really do that with a load of kids milling about as, if one of them, or a small group of them, got on the wrong side of the balance beam, they would end up in the cut. There would be much consternation, shouting and running around from the adults present I fear, so decided, best not. By the Boater's Handbook. 'Elfin' safety and all that. Can't have dead kids floating around getting caught in the propeller. Enough leaves as it is.

Hartshill tonight, Ashby tomorrow. Photos of new kitchen when I find the camera.

The Return to the Ashby

Shardlow yesterday. At Cranfleet Lock an overweight, sweating, ruddy faced man rushed up from the landing platform shouting at me, "Why didn't you wait. Why didn't you wait for me. How much time have you saved by not waiting for me."

"How long are you", I shouted back.

"Forty five foot, but that makes no difference you should have waited."

"I'm afraid that that makes you about thirty feet too long for the lock," says I. The hire boater, I was sharing with smiled knowingly at me. It suddenly dawned on the little fat man that there was two boats in the lock and not just the hire boat that he had been following and had shared Beeston Lock with. The hire boater looked pleased with the conversation. I wonder why?

"I sincerely apologize. I didn't realize. I thought there was just the one boat. I'm very sorry. I didn't see you."

"That's ok, says I. He couldn't have been nicer from then on.

Stenson Lock catches me out and every time I go through, there is some kind of incident. Today was no exception. Today I forgot to take out the tiller arm and it caught on the lock wall. Something is now bent and the tiller is out of alignment by about 15 degrees. More annoying than anything but I'll have to do something about it. The three bolts that hold the rudder in place may have been loose enough to move the shaft but further investigation will be required. Hopefully it won't involve me entering the water.

 

You can see the relevant bolts here at the last blacking. (it might have twisted on the shaft)

Willington tonight and on to Fradley Junction tomorrow. Possibly for the weekend. Decisions still have to be made. Not by me of course. But by the boss.

Newark, and back

We've been to Newark and back. We spent a couple of days going down the Trent, spent a couple of days there and came back again (surprisingly). There's a castle there you know. I say a castle but it's really only the front wall of a castle but that front wall fortunately faces the river so looks like a complete castle (at least from the river). It also makes for a better photograph than if the other wall was the only one remaining.

Beer (well it'd not really, is it. Wifebeater's. That's what Terri calls it. I call it rubbish)

On the way down there we saw a fisherman feeding a magpie that had landed on his arm and on the way back we saw another fisherman catching a flying pigeon with his line. A strange place, The Trent. We got into a tizz at the first river lock when we found that we were supposed to tie the boat back and front and not just with a centre line but were experts by the end of the return journey. It was also nice to have the locks done for us by the lockeepers.

Just Beer

Carrying on the beer theme from last weekend, we also had a couple of beers on the way, whilst there and on the return (just a couple you understand). Highlights were The Unicorn at Gunthorpe with the £10 for two meal and then Fiskerton with the Bromley Arms. But the best was a micro pub called, Just Beer in Newark run by some CAMRA members who only sell four different real ales and one cider. No largers, no alco pops, no soft drinks, no jukebox, no music, no TV, no gaming machines only fine company (well it was when we were there) and fine conversation (ditto) and really, really great beer. Behind the pub/restaurant called The Moorings by Newark Nether lock if you're interested. It was about the size of someone's front room but far Superior in terms of atmosphere to most larger venues.

 Bromley Arms

Lisa also bought a newish bike from the weekly auction in Newark. The total cost of which was...eleven quid. Not that she ever uses a bike but she feels that she may some day. Possibly soon but more than likely not. I wanted some timber that was on sale but that was sold for more than I was prepared to pay. Unfortunately I wanted to pay nothing for it. I was outbid.

Front wall of castle and river (and at night)

We're starting our return journey to the Ashby Canal this week and may be back next weekend (well there or thereabouts).

Beer report

I hate hair straighteners. Lisa has naturally curly hair and she thinks that it should be straight. When she came back from work I expected to get out before the queues started and into the festival but no. That hair had to be straightened delaying our progress by an hour (Lisa will say only half an hour). Even then she insisted that it wasn't right and wore a hat. Consequently we were in the queue, in the rain for an hour and a half when we could have been straight in. Needless to say that I wasn't talking to her whilst queueing. But the mood lifted with the purchase of the first ale. It usually does.

Beer

"It's too big," says Lisa. I think she was talking about the Nottingham Beer Festival. And indeed it is. It's lost it's mojo (whatever that is). The beer has been left behind and it is the event itself that is more important. The live music is in a different tent and they no longer have faggots and peas for sale.

More beer later today.