Bartimaeus

The weather forecast promised unbroken sunshine by day, and cloudless nights in-between for the next week or so.  We woke yesterday to cloudy skies and strong winds.  The wind was strong enough to bounce the boat around a little, but nothing compared to the effect of passing boats.  In the strong wind, boaters are sometimes reluctant to slow down as they pass moored boats for fear of being blown sideways.  We were moored between two junctions at  a weekend at the start of the season – the amount of boat traffic has gone up dramatically.

We saw little point in setting off in those conditions.  In the afternoon it had calmed down and warmed up enough for us to consider a walk to the marina a mile or so down the Middlewich Branch.  The visit to the chandlery wasn’t essential, but I did want to buy a replacement fender hook.  We’d pulled the boat back to a different mooring and snagged a fender.  Something has to give in those circumstances – the hook in that case.

The new ones are a more solid plastic – I don’t know what will give next time we snag a fender.

This morning the wind had abated, but the wall-to-wall sunshine was absent.  The amended forecast suggested we would need to wait until after lunch for that, so we did just that.  When I eventually put my head out to think about casting off, the day was pleasantly warm and bright.  The man on the boat in front engaged us in conversation for a while.  He was keen to tell us of his experience being filmed for a TV show about narrowboat life – and we were happy to listen.

We set off towards Hurleston Junction.  We remembered an incident on a holiday some years ago at this spot.  A boat nearly sank in the lock when an inattentive driver let it rest on the cill and then take in water as its nose went down – wrecking the interior.  The boat was two days old.  Clare used to worry that this sort of thing could happen to us.  It’s not impossible, but this was a very avoidable accident.

As we approached, I could see a boat coming (safely) down through the bottom lock.  Clare took the helm and I hopped off the front to take over the lock from the lone-boater coming out.

This was excellent timing for us all – he could leave the gates open, and I didn’t have to open them.  As Clare and Bartimaeus were rising in the lock, I looked ahead to see what the story was at the next one.  Another boat was coming towards us, so once I’d opened the head gate I was able to walk on.  As I arrived, the woman working the tail gates at this lock was deploying the handy gate prop provided by the local canal society.  It comes complete with instructions!

The next two locks also had boats coming towards us, so I managed the entire flight without opening any tail gates.  At the top lock I thought we were going to get the full set, but the approaching boat stopped to get water, so I had to close one head gate on the flight.

By now I was getting surprisingly warm.  Sitting on deck with Clare driving I realised it wasn’t from the exertion – it was the sun.  I went inside and changed in to shorts – that’s better.

We were out of milk and it is a few miles to the next village so we pressed on intending to walk or cycle the rest of the way to the shop when we’d gone far enough.  As we passed Swanley Bridge Marina I spotted a sign saying they sold milk.  With the nearest a narrowboat can manage to a screech of tyres, Clare pulled in at their service wharf.  They were only able to let me have a single pint, but that will do us overnight

By now we were both thinking it was time for a summer drink, but it wasn’t just milk we were low on.  In the absence of lemonade and only a tiny amount of Pimms, we had to make do with (local) beer.

Clare worked the flight of three locks at Baddiley. Neither of us were seriously affected by the beer, but I did manage to get grounded on the silt from a by-wash, and then bounced in to the lock. We found moorings just beyond which didn’t have too much overhanging vegetation and stopped for the day.

Clare made a delicious dinner just in time for us to watch the sunset while we were eating it.  The air temperature had dropped too much for us to consider eating outside, but I did open the side hatch door a few times to get a better view.