The Caen Hill Locks being locked and time limited, we had made an “early” start. I hadn’t finished my breakfast or taken a tablet for my slightly sore shoulder so was a but grumpy as I set off to do double locks before caffeine or calories had kicked in. (For anyone concerned, my shoulder is fine now and isn’t related to lock working as far as I can tell.) There was a lock keeper at the first lock but as he crossed over the gate, he was carrying an unwieldy keb, not a windlass, also known as a lock key, though they aren’t only used for locks. They didn’t seem very easy to cross, the gate itself having a steeply sloping bit to get past before getting on to the crossing point of the gate. I crossed over myself. There was always the small bridge but that was the long way round. I remarked to him that I had hoped for help but he didn’t have the right tool. He looked at my “go windlass” and said he could see I looked like a professional. I don’t know about professional, the lock keepers and volunteers often have quite an old fashioned one, rather than a shiny new one. I explained it was a birthday present from my husband which he found amusing, but did say he really wanted one himself and had been trying to get one but they were always sold out.