Not just me

I see that most of my favourite blogs aren't getting updated very often at the moment. My excuse is that I have actually had some work to do - real paid work which has taken up most of my time and nearly all of my energy. Hopefully the back of it is broken now, so maybe I can get back to writing more fun stuff. Currently back in Newhaven, sorting out house and car, seeing friends and doing heaps of washing. No. 2 Son has a concert in London on Sunday, after which we'll be returning to the boats.

Staying Inn for a Curry

After being here for seven months, we have finally got round to visiting the Curry Inn in Brewood. Many other boaters have recommended it (Armadillo went so far as to put up a laminated sign by the canal), and our takeaway was indeed very good, the prices reasonable and the service very friendly. I look forward to going back there to eat in when we next have guests.

We deserved a treat because we have had a busy day...

Off the peg storage solutions

Something that takes a surprising amount of storage space is underwear, especially when you factor in socks. The ideal place for keeping it all is a drawer, or small chest thereof, but drawers are in short supply in a back cabin - I have just the knife/crumb drawer, and the big drawer under the bed, which isn't very accessible as I leave the bed made up when not travelling. My undies were in a box, taking up valuable cupboard space, but it occurred to me that there is a 'dead' space at the end of the bed, underneath the cupboard, where I could hang bags to keep my smalls in. 

I was thinking I would have to make the bags myself, but then came across these (rather large for their intended purpose) peg bags, at £1.65 each in Wilkinsons. Already equipped with a hanger, all they need is a single hook to be suspended from, and are an excellent size for storing all sorts of things in all sorts of places - nice cheery pattern too.

Resolutely tackling the 21 (and new bits of the BCN)

You know us, we'll always turn out to tackle the Wolverhampton locks, so when Dave Moore posted on CWF that he was looking for help, having injured his knee (though actually it was better by yesterday) I leapt in to volunteer our services.

This was not just to be a case of parking in Broad Street, doing the locks, and walking back to the car, however (just as well, as the lower end of Broad Street was sealed off following a stabbing at the nightclub in the former BW building there). No, this was to be a full day's boating, taking in parts of the BCN we'd not previously seen, notably a section of the Wyrley and Essington Canal.

We arranged to meet Dave at Sneyd (my whispered injunction to Jim prior to phoning Dave up to make arrangements was 'try and get him to say it first and then we'll know how to pronounce it'. It's Sneed, to save you similar worries) and quickly set off. The W&E - at least the bit we saw - was clean and green and not even very curly. There was some weed but not as bad as elsewhere. Most of it had a very rural appearance, until we stopped in Wednesfield to buy some provisions for lunch, where there was a biggish retail park.

Dave was very anxious that I write nice things about the BCN because in his view people tend to have an unfairly low opinion of, or are unnecessarily worried about it. He's been boating there since the sixties, and says he's never had any trouble or felt threatened. Well, he didn't need to worry about me, because I love what I've seen of the BCN and am very keen to explore more. We have had a couple of minor incidents around Wolverhampton (but then we've also had one in Stone) but I wouldn't let that put me off. The chances of something seriously bad happening are minuscule, and it's worth the occasional annoyance.

All the same, we met only one other boat on the W&E before joining the BCN Main Line at Horseley Fields Junction, although on coming to the locks there were a fair few more, in each direction. We didn't break any records but got a decent rhythm going, along with Dave's mate Keith, and did catch up with a boatload of Norwegians in front of us. After a few locks with us on their tail, they let us by, albeit with only two locks to go.

Even then the day wasn't over, as we continued to Compton, where Dave was stopping for the night, and retired to the Marston's pub there for dinner and beer and great conversation, eventually getting a taxi, courtesy of Dave (I owe you some change Dave) with a driver who was thankfully able to follow our garbled directions back to Sneyd, where we picked up the car, and, road Street still being closed, had another road tour of little-known outposts of the Black Country.

Now this would not be complete without saying a bit about Resolute, Dave's fabulous and justly well known boat - but of course I didn't take a camera, did I, so will have to describe it in words. It's a 60' tug, built by Graham Edgeson at Norton Canes, and a stunning looking boat, especially when it's coming towards you with its low swoopy fore end. What particularly impressed us were the handrails - beautifully designed to overlap the cabin sides slightly, and made, though you would never guess from looking, of wood, treated with resin before being painted - a lesson we are hoping to put into practice on Bakewell's back cabin. The paintwork and signwriting are of course gorgeous, and everything clean and gleaming... oh, and it's got a 1942 Kelvin J3.

So although Dave thanked us for our help, I'd like to say a big thank you to Dave for a great day's boating. And it didn't even rain until we were safely ensconced in the pub.

Mr Kipling's...

Couldn't resist.

But talking of food (which we weren't, really), Di Murrell has just won a food history writers' prize for this fabulous article about how working boaters ate.

One for Michelle

Instead of emailing Michelle to tell her about this, I thought I would blog it for the world instead!

Earlier in the 'summer' when we did actually have a few sunny days and Baz'n'Iz came up for the Big Butty Outing, we caught up with Bill and Michelle a few times. Not the least of these was the final day of our return from the Anchor when we had been caught in a very heavy shower and all got soaked at Wheaton Aston lock. We pressed on and arrived back at Stretton fairly late, Shilling following, and while we got dried and heaved a sigh of relief at completing our first successful butty outing, Michelle cooked us all supper, which was then brought over to be eaten on Bakewell. And what Michelle introduced us to was quesadillas. Very welcome, filling and comforting.

Now, Michelle and Bill have just left for home in North Carolina, and donated us the contents of their fridge before departing, meaning that there was a heap of flour tortillas sitting on the worktop, a jar of salsa, and a big hunk of mild cheddar. So I thought I would try to recreate this dish, and it was very successful.  So here is what I did (apologies to Michelle if I've taken too many liberties but they did turn out really well!):

Fried some chopped chilli and garlic in olive oil, then added a tin each of drained mixed beans and kidney beans. Stirred to mix then mashed roughly with a potato masher. Mixed in some leftover hummous that was hanging around (optional!)

Mashed an avocado similarly.

Grated the cheese.

Spread a tortilla with bean mixture to a depth of about 3/8", topped with salsa, avocado and a good sprinkling of cheese, then sandwiched with another tortilla.

Heated up a dry frying pan, put it in and pressed it down, cooked for a few minutes and turned over (easiest using a spatula underneath and my hand on top) until golden both sides and all the cheese melted.

Lovely messy eating!

Eagle towing

Chris Mann, who took that fantastic photo of Willoughby mid-leap, has sent me a picture of Eagle towing its builder and his brother-in-law (whom I met; sadly I didn't get to meet Rob himself) in an inflatable canoe. They did this at Braunston too.

The most nerve wracking part of the parade was coming back into the arm with Eagle sitting on the outside of the bend. Miles away really and something would have had to have gone spectacularly wrong for Chertsey to end up anywhere near it, but still the thought made my blood run cold.

Where Eagles dare

When I posted rather plaintively on CWF a while ago on the subject of 'is anyone going to Braunston this year?', the reply that made me smile in anticipation was from robkg, saying: 'I am planning to take ... "Eagle" again this year.  She now has a Bolinder fitted plus the steerer actually steers.'

Eagle is the boat that makes the rest of us feel sane.

Seeing Eagle makes me happy. It is so fabulously good; so gloriously pointless, done, as everything should be but so little is, entirely for its own sake, raised to the highest degree.

Eagle is (the bit that I elided), as most of you probably know, a model. But what a model. A model with an Action Man whose gripping hand on the tiller does indeed appear to steer. Smoke emerges from stove chimney and exhaust, and the miniature Bolinder beats perfect time with the boat's movement. Not mentioned in the preview was that Action Man (I wonder what his name is) now also has a bike, handmade in every perfect detail, casually thrown on top of his cargo (what's in those sacks, I wonder).

I cannot say what joy Eagle brings me.

I have left the picture files big so you can click on them and appreciate the fantastic detail.

I'll edit and enlarge the Blue Line post tomorrow. Or soon, anyway.

Blue Line line-up

On Sunday morning we moved Chertsey back along the arm to facilitate a photo call for the Blue Line boats that were there: Nutfield and Raymond, in Blue Line colours, alng with Stanton and Renfrew, two other boats that worked for the company.

Somewhere I have picked up a bit of the history of the company, but I can't recall where to go back and check my facts, so forgive me if this is a bit vague. Blue Line was set up by Michael Streat (known as 'Mr Streaks' to the boatmen) and operated out of Braunston. It was Blue Line boats that were on the legendary 'Jam 'Ole Run' from Atherstone/Baddesley to the Kearley and Tonge works (which I think didn't actually make jam at the time? near Bulls Bridge - famously the last regular long distance commercial traffic, which ended in November 1970 (only three months after the far longer established Ashby Canal - Dickinsons mills coal traffic which Chertsey so briefly participated in).

I'm not sure either how many boats Blue Line ran, or whether they owned or leased them, but they also included the large Woolwich butty Belmont (now in a sorry state on the bank at a 'water park') and Lucy, a wooden Nursers built boat currently being restored by Pete Boyce - now also co-owner of Renfrew - at Braunston.

Anyway, i think they got their photo - while I got some much more interesting ones of them getting lined up for it!

(I'm going to post on CWF and ask for additional info and corrections on this)

The last banana

One of the many things Jim and I disagree on is the correct stage of ripeness at which to eat a banana. I say it is when it is ripe enough not to take the enamel off your teeth, but before it starts emitting detectable ethanol (or whatever it is that bananas emit that makes then rest of the fruit go rotten) fumes. Jim on the other hand insists that a banana is not edible until its skin is at least 50% black.

This means that any bananas that aren't eaten within a couple of days are left for Jim. This one may have been left just a little too long... Or maybe it's like hanging a brace of pheasant(s?) - when one drops off, you eat the other one.

Cabintop flowers

When Sebastian and Izzi visited they brought me a lovely present - a Harveys of Lewes jug for putting flowers on the cabintop. Derided by some as a soft southern habit, this is nonetheless a tradition (or not) that I rather like. I filled it up with flowers from the yard before we left, and most mornings picked one or two new specimens from where we were moored - never too many; never enough to notice they were missing (and none, strangely, in Birmingham). I didn't pick the foxglove; it was a victim of veg pledge strimming. It was quite frustrating boating past profuse displays of gorgeous flowers, only to find none where we tied up.

The longest lasting were a blue flower, looking somewhat like a thistle or a cornflower, but with different leaves from either (if you enlarge the photo you can see one on the right hand side), that  collected from the bottom of the drive - fifteen days later I brought one of them back again. The pink hogweed (carefully picked) did well too, as did, to my surprise, the campion. The biggest failure, not even lasting half a day, was elderflower. On the whole it taught me that whilst wild flowers may not last if you pick them and bring them indoors, outdoors most seem to do very well.

The cat formerly known as Willow

... would like it to be known that he has officially changed his name to Willoughby, as befits a dignified and masculine furry gentleman of his stature.

And to prove it, here is the absolutely fantastic photo taken at Braunston by Chris Mann (aka CWF's Chieftiff). Thanks very much to Chris for taking such a brilliant shot, sending me a copy, and allowing me to post it.

Scrubbing up

Braunston Bash 2012 Day 15
Wolverhampton Lock 17 to Stretton

Less than half a day really; an early start had us home by ten, with the rest of the day free for scrubbing out Chertsey's back cabin (god it was frowsty) and then scrubbing myself, because, guess what, the Social Event is tonight after all! It is Bill's (of Shilling) seventy fifth birthday and we are celebrating at the Hartley Arms. I shall wear my new two tone blue hippy dress with the silver block print which I bought at Braunston (have to get at least one new hippy garment per festival) and we have found him a super little present.

I'll take the high road

What I didn't mention, is that last night we were joined on Sherbourne Wharf by David and Sue Daines on Cyprus, which was a nice surprise. They too are heading for the Shroppie and set off a few minute before us this morning. They took the Old Main Line ('more interesting') and we took the New - straight and boring but clear and mostly deep, and we flew along, seing very few other boats. We got to the top of the Wolverhampton locks at two this afternoon. Well, imagine our surprise when half an hour ago they waved to us from the seventeenth lock. They had got to the top of the flight at five o'clock, having battled horrendous weed along the Old Main Line. They've now tied up behind us. So things could have been worse. I have even been shamed into cleaning the stove, which was covered in rust spots and patches following yesterday's downpour.

Seventeen out of twenty one ain't bad

Braunston Bash 2012 Day 14
Birmingham to Wolverhampton Lock 17

The original plan was to stop in Wolverhampton tonight, and finish our journey with a full day's travelling tomorrow. But a Social Event is being organised which we cannot miss, and because the was a possibility that it would be tomorrow night, we decided to press on and get the Wolverhampton locks unr our belt before retiring.

It was windy and all the locks were against us. With no helpers I was having to wait while Jim filled each lock, constantly drifting out of position, and once finding some substantial rocks on the bottom, from which I only managed to remove myself by getting Jim to send some more water down into the pound. In stark contrast to our epic hour and three quarter ascent with Sickle and four crew, we took three and a half hours to descend the first seventeen, and decided to call it a day in the long pound between 17 and 16.

I was not in the best of tempers anyway, as whilst in the second lock I said to Jim that we'd be fine now if the Social Event were to be on Saturday, and he told me that he had been told that it was now definitely Sunday! If I'd known that, we'd be on that nice offside mooring in Wolverhampton tonight, eating a massive pizza (obviously we'd have had to swim to get it. Or moved the boat).

When I went to stop the engine I observed a third, possibly new (because if it had been leaking at that rate for long there'd be none left in the tank) diesel leak. We replaced the gaskets in the fuel pump, with Colin's help, at Braunston, and thought we'd fixed it. Then Jim found and fixed another one the day before yesterday, and has now, hopefully fixed the one I just found, at a joint at the fuel filter. Do you remember that installation in the Tate Modern Turbine Hall which was a massive tank of oil that you could walk across on bridges? That's our engine bilge, that is.

From Braunston to Birmingham

Braunston Bash 2012
Day 7 - Braunston
Day 8 - Braunston
Day 9 - Braunston
Day 10 - Braunston to Long Itchington
Day 11 - Long Itchington to Warwick
Day 12 - Warwick to Top of Lapworth
Day 13 - Top of Lapworth to Birmingham



Dear dear me. A whole week without an update, so obviously far too much to catch up with now, even though the night is young, Brum is buzzing, and I'm locked in the back cabin with a cat whose rather over enthusiastic exploration of the outside structural features of bridges means he can't really be let out on his own. Chieftiff on Canalworld posted an absolutely fantastic photo of said cat at Braunston, but it seems to have disappeared.

We agreed to leave Braunston with Herbie in order to share the joy of Hatton with them, which worked out well. Read all about it on Herbie's blog; Neil's account cannot be bettered. Having done Hatton and left the Herbies to a leisurely lunch, we proceeded up the Lapworth locks, thus covering 39 locks in the day. None today on the other hand, as we made our way into Birmingham.

The Braunston weekend was good, in the end, though it started a bit sad and grey. It did feel like a depleted event and the weather joined in in sympathy. Sunday was better though as the sun shone. The parade was over in an hour, for us at least, and while five hours might seem a bit excessive, one does feel like being short changed. What's more, there was no souvenir keyring! The last two years we have been presented with a cast brass commemorative key fob, which can be affixed to the wall as a small plaque. I have 2010 and 2011 displayed proudly in the cabin, but it seems there will be no 2012 to join them.

As always though the weekend was excellent socially, and we met many new people and got to know other acquaintances better. Highlights included a trip to the pub on Sickle on Saturday night, and another on Reginald on Sunday.

Where the wild roses grow

Braunston Bash 2012
Day 3 - Wolseley Bridge - Huddlesford
Day 4 - Huddlesford - Alvecote
Day 5 - Alvecote - Hawkesbury
Day 6 - Hawkesbury - Braunston



It says a great deal for this trip that the most memorable thing has been marvelling at the wild flowers, especially the roses, growing in such glorious abundance. We've not been seriously aground once; the worst incident was getting stemmed up yesterday on a bend having been put off by a pair of plastic cruisers moored on the outside - not wanting to plough into them, losing the line of the channel, and ending up with the front of the boat stuck in mud on the inside of the bend. It should have been easy enough to reverse off, especially as I realised what was happening and went into reverse straight away. It took a while though, until I dared put a LOT of revs on, and then it pulled back off, and Jim shafted the front round to save it happening all over again. Lesson from that: don't be afraid to give it lots of welly. The most galling thing was that was we went by, a woman in one of the plastic boats leant out and waved - having stayed well hidden all the time we could have done with some help. I have been miss congeniality all this trip, even with the most egregious halfwits, but I'm afraid she got a Hard Stare.

People mooring on bends and too near bridgeholes is still the bane of my life. Although I'm getting better and better at working round it, it soes make life difficult. BW haven't helped by designating visitor moorings right up to bridgeholes - there was one very bad example which I made a mental note of, but I've lost the note...

As I get more experience I am starting to be able to think through and articulate some of the issues that arise with a big boat. For example, if a full length boat is passing you coming the other way, unless it's a long straight stretch, don't expect them to move over and carry on in a straight line parallell to you until you've passed eachother. Think instead in terms of passing the front and the back of the oncoming boat in two separate operations. If I am approaching you, you may well think I'm heading straignt for you. But I need to point my fore end towards you in order to be able to swing it out at the right moment. When I do, and a gap opens up at the front of the boat, move into it and keep moving! I need you out of the way of the fore end so that I can swing it in behind you and so swing the stern out of your way, and thus we get past each other without anyone getting stuck in the mud/on the rocks/in the bushes. So, please, when passing oncoming boats, keep going and don't be afraid to pass close. It is not necessary to be able to get a double decker bus between us. Six inches is plenty. Here endeth today's lesson. And of course it doesn't only apply to full length bpats; they're just the most extreme case. It applies to all the boats that are passing you too, and what you wish they would do in an ideal world.

Anyway, back to the travelogue. We stopped at Alvecote on Tuesday to meet up with No. 2 Son after his event in Tamworth, and were were also joined by Phil and Ros, whose boating on Warbler has been sadly curtailed by injury. This year marks the 40th anniversary of their ownership of Warbler, which is certainly cause for celebtation. We had a nice meal in the Samuel Barlow and were able to enjoy the football with the sound off.

The next day we decided to press on to Hawkesbury regardless of the cat's complaints. We were stuck behing a very slow couple going up Atherstone, whose response to any suggestion of more effective ways of working was 'but that's dangerous!'. Fortunately there was another couple between us to share the pain - Alison and Charlie on Pendragon, an immaculate Hancock and Lane boat that's been in the family since Alison's father bought it new in 1979. We got on so well with them that we spent the evening in the Greyhound with them, after an excellent meal. The food at the Greyhound has always been good in my experience, but this time it was even better. Most of the menu was on the dearish side but my 8oz rump steak at £9 was the bargain of the menu, coming with lovely chips, a grilled tomato and herb crusted mushrooms - and no pathetic little 'salad' getting in the way.

We weren't planning to push on all the way to Braunston yesterday but were going to stop a couple of hours short. However, the sun came out just as we came up Hillmorton, so we thought we'd go for it. With Fenny hot on our tail and a very speedy hire boat in front as pacemaker, we fairly flew along the last bit to arrive in Braunston in time for tea (well, late tea/early supper, or what I, with my southern lower middle class roots would have called dinner), followed by a lovely evening on Owl with Jim and Sue and family, making serious inroads into their wine cellar.

Today dawns damply, but who knows what the weekend will bring. We are currently tied up in the arm, adjacent to the marquee, in order to unload the shop. I don't know whether we'll be staying in the arm after we've done that. As a nice shiny GU boat we would probably be a good candidate, but I worry that it might be hard to get out for the parades.

A to B

Braunston Bash 2012
Day 1 - Stretton to Rodbaston
Day 2 - Rodbaston to Wolseley Bridge

Short days and rural tie-ups being among the concomitants of having a cat on board. A litter tray under the bed which is used just as you are dropping off, and a constant supply of fresh mice being others.

Cooking on the Epping... Yesterday I sliced up some leeks, carrots and celery, poured on some water, added a layer of sliced potatoes, a tin of stewed steak, and another layer of potatoes, stuck it on top of the stove for five hours, and presto, very acceptable hotpot. Best of all, it didn't catch and stick and burn onto the pot. I put this down to the layer of veg in the bottom - nothing too starchy or sticky. Today I started with an onion and a red pepper, added some rice (easy cook) along with the recommended amount of water, and topped it off with two tins of veggie chilli. Three and a half hours yielded a flavoursome and satisfyingly stodgy supper, with plenty left over for a cold lunch, and again, an easy to clean casserole. As I am working my way back through the table cupboard, tomorrow will be an experiment with ratatouille and green lentils.

Spotted a new boat for my collection today, looking fabulous - Aber. Not going to Braunston, sadly for the rest of us.

Ready for the off

Spent the day getting ready to leave tomorrow for the Braunston Bash 2012. Packed the table cupboard and boot cupboard to bursting with provisions, topped up the diesel, stocked up on paraffin, lit the fire (ahem), and have attached and polished a great deal more brass nick nacks. From having been super austere, Chertsey would now make a josher owner shudder at its bling. Well, almost.

I have not packed the solar showers. Tomorrow I will get my sou'wester out.

We are going via the Coventry and North Oxford canals (35 locks) rather than through Birmingham (101 locks). this is our more familiar route, and it is partly because of this, partly the locks (I've nothing against locks, but I'm not a masochist), partly because I want to do the GU properly one day in one fell swoop, and now also because we are meeting No. 1 Son in Tamworth on Tuesday. Now he is the manager of a Kwik Fit branch, he gets invited to things like trying out winter tyres in the Snowdome.

Lacey day

I spent most of today crafting another job application, but I found time inbetween to wash and redeploy Chertsey's cabin lace:











As I have run out of nice easy escapist books to read (i.e. detective novels), I have been rereading the wartime women boaters' memoirs: Emma Smith's Maidens' Trip, Margaret Cornish's Troubled Waters, and Eily (Kit) Gayford's The Amateur Boatwomen. I've lent Idle Women to Izzi (and Baz) - along with Chris Deuchar's A Boater's Guide to Boating! I was quite surprised on returning to these how well they all read. Smith in particular is good at explaining how boats and boating worked, while Gayford seems to have incorporated some innacuracies. I'm now rereading A.P. Herbert's The Water Gipsies, which at least one of the Idle Women refers to. It's almost as if I'm reading a different book though, as I don't recall it having a great deal to say about canal boating, although maybe I am remembering wrongly.