Constant hot water

Well, I never did tell, did I what our secret source of fun was. It was... whisper it... being on the committee of HNBOC. Oh how we love a committee (until we remember how much we hate it, that it). Jim has been co-opted as Fens rep, and it appears (subject to a sample press release) I may be about to become their press officer. Last Saturday we went to a committee meeting, prior to a very interesting and enjoyable presentation of photographs of Birmingham by Bob May. So there it is, our secret vice revealed.

And so to bring this bang up to date, here I sit in Chertsey's cabin, the kettle burbling away and my cheeks reddened from the heat of the stove, looking forward to setting off tomorrow for what promises to be a bit of real winter boating. I did see a forecast last week that promised as low as -9, so that's what I shall claim it was, as I don't have a thermometer. I am, wardrobe-wise at least, fully prepared for this eventuality, starting with two thermal vests and finishing with the arctic parka, while for lower down I have my marvellous three sizes too big jumble sale Rohan padded trousers, and more thermals. Less dance of the seven veils, more pass the parcel.

So, hopefully we are all set. The car shuffle has been done (dear old Fang starting first turn of the key. Tufty, we have discovered, is a summer car, as the heater doesn't work. I returned from Braunston last week all wrapped up and with a blanket over my knees - proper motoring!) A quick lok at the new mooring shows it to be very nice indeed, and I was reminded that not only is there a toilet there, it actually has heating! Oh luxury indeed. Tomorrow then, we should leave with the dawn. Allowing three days for a trip that would take only two with longer daylight hours, so should be OK.

Winding in the rain

Today we did finally make it up to check on Chertsey - albeit as briefly as you can get away with when it's a 400 mile round trip. We had waited in vain for the weather to improve, and given the heavy rain decided that we really had to go and make sure that the pump had been working and that all was otherwise well.

The visit didn't get off to the best start, with the discovery of a (very damp) BW ticket firmly attached to the boat... I shall regale you with my further Adventures in Licencing once I have spoken to the various BW bods involved tomorrow.

The hold also looked suspiciously wet, with water well over the floors in the back end and extending about half way along the boat. More than there should have been if the pump was working, but less than I'd have expected if it wasn't. The mystery was solved when Jim discovered that the hose had worked its way loose and found its way back into the hold, so the pump had, for a while, been recirculating the water. Amazingly though this hadn't significantly drained the battery, so things were looking up. My patent rainwater diverter (pictured below) also seemed to have done us proud and prevented the entire rainfall landing on the roof of the adjacent building ending up in the hold.
In order to charge the battery, in the end, we did have to wind. There were other disadvantages to facing the other way too, mainly that it wasn't possible to get directly onto the back of the boat. So we took the polythene sheeting off the engine room (it too had been very successful in keeping the rain out), fired up the engine, and reversed to the marina, winded in the entrance, and reversed back again. By the time we had achieved this we were pretty much soaked through.

Tying up on this moorning is quite fun, as one end of the boat is against the side of a building, with no means of stepping off; neither is there anything particularly prominent to catch hold of or lassoo. What it entails is me (in this case) standing on the front with the cabin shaft and using it to hook the (knotted blue) rope we've left neatly coiled in an elder which is growing out of the side of the building, and tying this round the t-stud. The other end of the rope is attached to a chain which is somehow attached to the wall. At the other end, it is possible to get off, but again we leave the rope attached to the bank because it's looped tightly behind what appears to be a bit of reinforcing steel holding up the wall. Still, we seem to have it down to a fine art now.

So Jim set up the charger, I dried everything that had got wet in the course of our short outing, and positioned a vital bucket under the bull's eye, which is still dripping, and no sooner was that done than we were off again... when what I really wanted to do was light the stove and give the old girl the TLC she deserves.

Famous Blue Raincoat

Not every day I get to give a post the title of one of my favourite songs. Anyway, the plan to cover the hold entirely in blue polythene was put, ahem, on hold. Jim did fix the batten all along the sides; the idea was to take out the mast and stands, put the planks down the middle, spread the sheeting across this, and fix it with another batten on top. The scheme foundered on the fact that it was windy and rainy and we were fed up, and also the realisation that once done there would be no way of getting from one end of the boat to the other, as although the planks would still be there, the polythene would be too slippery to walk on. So we decided instead to put our faith in the new float-switch pump, along with my cunningly designed device (not pictured, unfortunately) to prevent the downpipe depositing the entire rainfall landing on the adjacent roof directly into the hold. This consists of a strip of polythene sheeting (it's heavy duty damp proof course stuff) cable tied to the downpipe and extending down below the outlet between the hull side and the wall - hopefully sufficient to divert the flow straight into the canal.

The engine room does sport a raincoat however, attached to battens extended back from the gunnel timber over the steel gunnels. This is mainly to stop rain getting in above the hatches, which are vulnerable on both sides, having no drip (which I am assured is the proper term) above them to prevent this. This is something we are going to have to add. Most other boats seem to have them, either in wood or steel.

We are now facing the other way on the mooring. This is partly because we couldn't be bothered to wind in the marina entrance and then reverse back to the mooring, partly for a change, partly because we might want to go the other way next time, and partly for more privacy, as the other way round, Chertsey backs onto the back end of the next boat along; this way we back onto the front end of Minnow. The downside is that you have to walk along the planks to get from the bank to the cabin, and we couldn't get the back right in because it's shallow there. We might have to do a bit of dredging.

Home on the Cheese Wharf

Well, I've heard it called that, from back in the days when this was a dairy. So here we are, another relatively uneventful four hours has brought us to Chertsey's home mooring, from where we will do a bit of a car shuffle in the morning and then set off for home... well, for the house.

Took advantage of a quiet few hours to make Chertsey a bit more homely, putting up a brass rail and curtain for the porthole, and another rail over the bed to hang things on, plus some hooks for hanging up mugs. Jim has tracked down the oil leak that has been making a bit of a mess of the engine room... he thinks it's inside the cowling, necessitating the removal of the canvas ducting I spent much blood sweat and tears on. The dynamo (or the regulator) isn't charging the batttery, so that will need to be looked at. And we probably need to shove some more packing into the stern gland. But apart from that everything is super.

We had Atherstone pies again tonight, so lit the Epping and had plenty of hot water for washing self and dishes. This time while the cabin cooled down we vistited the Swan at Fradley junction, seemed like a very nice pub, lots of beers and well kept, but lacking in clean glasses when we visited. We have also acquainted ourselves with the facilities at Fradley, as these will be our local ones.

Wet paint

Nothing really meriting a photo again today, but a few more jobs ticked off. First we refitted the bulls eye, sticking its broken edges together with clear sealant before lowering it into place. The broken bits can't be seen once it's in place. What we have learnt from this exercise is that the top layer of the cabin top, under the steel, is ply (rather than a double thickness of wood) and this is delaminating to wonderful wavy effect where the bulls eye leaked over the years. I would suspect, on the basis of those 1970s/80s photos that the cabin sides were ply too, were it not for the porthole which definitely is surrounded by two layers of wood.

My next job was to take off the cabin slide and wire brush/scrape/sand all the flakey scabby bits off and get a new coat of paint on it. Then I turned my attention to the cabin top, removing stray bits of sealent and cleaning it up. Next, I set to painting the port cabin side, including the engine room, from handrail to gunnel. This turned out very nicely, and I was having a well deserved lunch when I was informed that it was raining. Just a light shower, I thought, as forecast.... but no, it rained solidly - and heavily - for the rest of the afternoon.

I retired to the back cabin with a tin of cream gloss and Radio 4, while Jim looked at the exhaust. Another hour or so later and it was still raining and everyone else had gone home. Now this morning, while I was doing the painting, Jim was fixing Fang (the Volvo that broke down last time we were here). It turned put not to be the petrol pump itself, but either a faulty pipe or faulty connection. After he took it out and put it back again, it was fine. We are now starting to think about the logistics of the forthcoming trip(s) and it seemed to be a good idea to take Fang up to the mooring at Kings Bromley, where the plan is to keep it anyway (certainly for me alone it will be cheaper to come up and down by train). So we set off in the lashing rain to do that, a convoy of 240 estates.

By the time that was done it was quarter to eight and time for supper - another 12 hour day done and less than one might expect to show for it. How time flies when you're doing real work!

So this is home

Having taken the mooring at Kings Bromley sight unseen, on the basis of a couple of photos, Blossom's recommendation, and an already forgotten cruise past last year, today for the first time we went and visited Chertsey's new home at Kings Bromley Wharf.

I like it a lot, although (no, be honest, because) it wouldn't be everybody's cup of tea. It's part of an industrial estate, and Chertsey's berth is adjacent to a fantastic old, currently unoccupied, building which one of the other moorers, Brian (who made us very welcome) tells me is a former armoury, hence the barred windows and frighteningly robust steel door. The photo shows our bit of bank; currently a bit untidy but a lovely cosy corner once cleared up and a nice sheltered spot for sitting in the afternoon sun (when we get some). There's a tap right nearby and electricity is available, although I don't think I will avail myself of it; my usage would be so low I'd resent paying the standing charge! Tracey (who's in charge) said it's also OK to have a mini shed there, though I pointed out that with 50' of hold I hoped I'd be sufficiently provisioned in that area.

To make things better still, there's a secure car parking compound, to which I now proudly bear a key, and the whole site is locked at night (for which I have another key). I start paying for it on April 1st, and hopefully will be moving Chertsey there in the summer.

A home to go to

photo courtesy of Mike - I never took one, of course.

Following on from yesterday's cliffhanger (yeah, right), my new mooring agreement arrived in the post this morning, so I have signed it and sent it back, and hopefully (provided they don't mind waiting a little while to see my insurance, ahem) it will all go ahead.

Thanks very much to Blossom for keeping his ear to the ground, Chertsey will tie up on a home mooring just behind Minnow, at Kings Bromley Wharf on the Trent and Mersey. It's a long way from home (but where isn't) but it's a lovely central spot canal wise and though I've taken the mooring sight unseen (been past it a few times but never really looked), the fact that it has water, electricity and secure parking, and is offside and gated, would seem to make it a good bet. I was never 100% happy about considering towpath moorings, although I did of course and they probably would have been fine. But for hardly any more money than those were going for this seems to have a lot more going for it.

Also I like the fact that it's a proper wharf, with a bit of history to it. I hope Blossom won't mind me paraphrasing (from memory) the brief history he gave me - the site was originally a creamery, and used the wharf for deliveries of coal from Rugeley. It's now an industrial estate, so a big contrast to the rural splendour of Bill Fen, giving us the best of both worlds.

It'll still be a long(ish) time before we can make our way there of course (but the mooring agreement doesn't start straight away) but it's nice to think that Chertsey has a fitting home to go to.

Moor? More! More!

A big boat needs a big mooring, and hence I have been keeping a watchful eye on the British Waterways moorings auction site for quite a while. Occasionally a 22 metre 'berth' comes up - sometimes even with an available depth of more than 70cm. And when that happens, off I set on a mystery tour... to Weedon, Banbury or Wolverton, say - to see what the mooring's like, and to have a look at the local town and facilities, to see if I could see myself being based there.

And on a couple of occasions I have come back and bid. The policy of auctioning moorings like this is of course highly questionable, but it has to be said that (in my experience at least) the site works very well. Obviously, from the fact that I keep looking, I have not yet bid successfully; I have in fact been outbid on two moorings so far, both of which have gone over the guide price, and the most recent one, that I didn't bid on, went way over. Yet I also hear of moorings not reaching their reserve, including one of these full length ones, the first time it was offered. Taken across all the moorings, the auction system, which sets the guide price at what it's currently bringing in, and the reserve somewhat lower, may not be inflating prices, but my recent limited experience suggests that it might be at the bigger end of the market. Certainly I was priced out; I wouldn't pay over £1,600 a year for a towpath mooring with no facilities and no security and in the case of Wolverton, not even any rings.

I could, in theory, take Chertsey to Bill Fen, where Warrior resides, and pay the grand total, including VAT, of £846. And maybe I'm mad not to. But getting up and down the Nene, and round Whittlesey Dyke, is pretty theoretical in a boat like Chertsey. Not impossible, certainly - ask Fulbourne - but not the sort of thing you want to be doing two or three times a year or more. So I decided to bite the bullet and look for somewhere more central. It's a canal boat, for heaven's sake; it needs to be on the cut. And I want it to be not only within relatively easy reach of home (a lot to ask given where I foolishly decided to be born and brought up) or at least of London, but also of the rest of the canal system.

And I think I've found somewhere. It's not signed and sealed yet, so I'll save that for another time, but I'm glad that I ventured into the world of BW moorings. It was an interesting experience, and a nice excuse for the occasional day out.