Home Farm Bridge

Saturday. Newspaper day.

We had two options if we wanted to stay put.

1 Walk along the towpath towards the tunnel, go up at the last bridge and join the road leading into Crick. This would involve a lot of the way by road, better done by bike than on foot.

2 Walk along the towpath to Watford Locks and carry on to where the B5385 crosses the canal. Here join the road and hope that one of the accommodation roads into Watford Gap was accessible by foot.

We chose Option 2, a nice gentle romantic walk along the canal.

So we retraced our steps from yesterday, we’d already had several boats come past us this morning whilst having breakfast and we knew of one that would have been there ready and waiting this morning (the boat that came past at 11pm last night). As we got to the locks there were two at the top, one in the first pound down and boats heading up the flight.

The lead boat coming up was a single hander who was bow hauling into the next to last chamber of the staircase. Obviously no help required from the Lockies, you don’t have to have them help you if you don’t want. Then behind was a hire boat with two Lockies and plenty of eager crew. Behind them a hire boat that was going to wait for the bottom of the staircase lock too be emptied before moving out. Behind them a chap who looked like he’d have a heart attack before he’d even made it to the bottom of the staircase. He was running round, trying to be as quick as he could, dropping paddles as the lady at the helm calmly said she would wait in the lock for the next lock to be prepared. He then fretted about closing the gate to go and set the next lock, which was still occupied. He may have been fretting as there was another boat behind waiting to come up, but there was no point in any of his rushing as he would just have to follow in line behind the other boats. If they were going slowly his haste wouldn’t get him any quicker to the top! We left them to it and carried on down the towpath.

The noise from the M1 was constant now. Our nice romantic canal walk. I did wonder if Mick might treat us to an early lunch for two, but the Mango Lounge was still shut. Here we climbed up to the road. There was an accommodation road on this side of the M1 which would lead to the services, it did have a sign saying no unauthorised access. We chose to cross over the motorway, watching all the very fast travellers below in their four lanes speeding their way first northwards then south.

The other road leading into the services invited hotel guests in along with advertising for staff for a new drive through Costa. Coming in through the back door is odd. Our world so different to everybody else’s here. We have walked, they have zoomed. We want a newspaper and maybe use of the toilets, they need the toilets, a coffee and a quick break from the monotonous 70mph of the motorway. It felt like we were in one of those films where everything zooms and zips around you whilst you carry on in slow motion.

Mick had considered treating us to a breakfast whilst we were here, but that would have worked out to over £20 (to include toast and a drink) for the two of us! The standard certainly wouldn’t have been up to being compared to a Mick breakfast. So once we’d both used the toilets, had a little browse and bought our paper we left them all to it and returned to our slow paced life.

We decided on a slightly more scenic route back. Across the road was a footpath leading down through woods to a large field which sits below Watford village. We crossed this with no obvious sign of the path and joined the Jurassic Way which led to an underpass. We weren’t going to have to make a dash for it to cross the motorway! Across another field and we could see landmarks from the canal. The pumping station at the bottom of the locks, the white cottages at the top, but what we couldn’t make out was how to get out of the field. In the end we followed the fence until a style showed itself. Boats were now heading down the locks and we paused to open and close a gate for the lead boat before carrying on back to Oleanna.

The rushing boat was just pushing off after a break a short distance after the locks. The chap shouting as before. They seemed to have lost any forward drive and she didn’t understand what he was saying as he jumped back off, being reminded to take a rope with him. We left them to it as voices were raised. They passed us several hours later, problem solved.

The morning dew had now dried off, time to get some top coat over the undercoat and see how much the red has faded over the last 18 months.

Undercoat gently sanded, then I thoroughly mixed the contents of the blue and red pots of touch up paint. As soon as the pigment was mixing with the oils in the red tin I could see a big difference. Either Oleanna’s red had faded (to a brighter red than the original) or the RAL numbers somewhere had gone a touch adrift. Our tins of touch up paint had been ordered from Wharf House last year, I remember checking the numbers with those I’d requested for Oleanna and those in the big book all about her. They all matched.

I applied the paint working it out to an even thickness and then laying it off in one direction, vertical surfaces from bottom to top, horizontal surfaces in a constant direction ending my brush strokes on the previous wet paint. A few dabs where some paint had worked it’s way off an some of the mouldings, here the colour difference was obvious. Red, whether paint, upholstery or anything fades quicker than other colours. This is science and cannot be got around. It is because it reflects red light and absorbs blue, green and UV light. The shorter wavelengths of these colours have more energy and cause bleaching. However blue, white and silver reflect blue and UV, making them fade slower. So our paint has just faded and will continue to do so.

I had thought that I’d maybe repaint the grab rail if the colour was very different, maybe just along the section that needed it. But with work commitments this will have to wait for a gap with good weather before the temperatures drop, or be put off for spring next year. At least there is now a top coat to protect what is underneath.

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 noisy romantic walk, 5 going up, 3 waiting to come down, 0 early lunch, 1 newspaper, 15 lorries, 467 cars, 342 parked, 1 loo break, 3  fields, 6437 cowpats, 1 underpass, 1st top coat, 1 fading red, 1 non-fading blue, 6 hours into 9, 1 reflective collar working.

Home Farm Footbridge

A warm sunny day. Time to give some attention to the rust spots I’d treated and primed on the grabrail back in June! After masking off around each area I gave them all a sand, cleaned them off and applied some undercoat. Luckily there were no passing dogs so Tilly didn’t feel the need to jump onto the roof. Tell tale pawprints suggest that she normally makes this leap where the biggest area of touching up is needed.

Only about four boats came past us during the day. Even though we are a mile away from Watford Locks we could tell when they were being filled as Oleanna would list and the kitchen drawers slid open.

After lunch and with Tilly coming in for an afternoon snooze we took the opportunity to walk down to the locks to gongoozle. With a tuperware in hand we hoped that today we’d be lucky and be able to pick enough berries for pudding. But someone must keep the blackberries in hand along here, we only managed to pick eight today!

Scooby Doo was guarding the Lock Keepers hut as the chaps seemed to be out on the flight. Two men in blue were walking down with saws in hand to give one of the lock gates a bit of attention. The hazard tape we’d spotted yesterday was gone.

The last boat through had been going down hill as all the chambers on the flight were empty. We paused on our saunter to chat with the Lockies. They agreed that today it was very quiet, it must be nearing the end of the season. With the early closing of the flight at the moment they occasionally have queueing boats that end up having an overnight wait. I think the chap said that last Saturday they had been so busy all day, when they locked the flight up they still had four at the top and seven at the bottom waiting to go through the flight. Sunday morning they started by letting boats down, much to the consternation of those waiting to come up. But bringing boats down the flight helps to restore the levels between the locks.

We walked to the very bottom where a couple of boats were moored, but no sign of anyone coming up. There is a planning application notice pinned to a post here. C&RT are wanting to extend the lock ladders, put in new gates and replace the steel beams with green oak ones. As the locks are listed planning approval is needed. I wonder if these works are planned for this winter when they close the flight in November?

On our way back up we chatted with the owners of NB Hollie (moored at Overwater on the Shroppie), a jolly couple married 49 years who had also come to gongoozle with no luck. Then a lady appeared with a windlass in hand, we were going to see some action after all. She walked up to check in with the Lockies who were having a tea break at the top with Scooby Doo. They were given the go ahead to start their way up. We made use of the time they took to reach the staircase by walking around the side ponds, getting different views of the locks to normal, but still not finding any blackberries.

Working your way through locks there is always time to have a chat with those around you. I was a little surprised though that nobody was actually keeping an eye on the boat as it rose up in the chambers, all those on the lock side faced away from the boat. As soon as he could the chap at the helm would step off the back and have a wander around, don’t blame him it’s an interesting place. Watford Locks are not troublesome, we’ve never had a problem there, but this is when you become complacent about things and then something goes wrong. Maybe they had all thought that we , the gongoozlers, would alert them to anything going wrong. They would have been right, we would have as we were watching their boat.

Alongside the locks along with the well tended flower pots and herb garden we spotted a small headstone, “RIP Edward”. I’ve tried to hunt round on the internet for information but found none. We assume it is for a dog as it was so small, but if anyone knows different please let me know. On my hunt round I did find an interesting site with history on the locks and the lock keepers, it’s an interesting read.

As the boat reached the top chamber of the staircase we decided to head back to Oleanna, pausing to pick some tarragon from the herb garden to go with our chicken tonight. Still no berries on the way home, so only a few to add to cereal in the morning.

The boat caught us up just as we returned to Oleanna, slowing for a boat coming towards them. As I sanded back the undercoat from this morning and applied a second coat boats just kept coming. This was the 4pm rush hour to reach the locks before they closed. Just about all were private boats, most probably making an early start for the weekend having left one of the marinas nearby. In an hour there were at least eight went past, the Lockies would now be busy. A few stopped and moored up nearby as Tilly reached the highest heights of the nearest trees.

Maybe we should have had a barbecue this evening, as it had been such a lovely day, but as soon as the sun dipped below the hill and the M1 a chill breeze came through the boat. With the conkers ready in the trees for returning school children to collect, autumn is on the doorstep. Our roast chicken with the tarragon under the skin was very very tasty, we’ll be having plenty more as the nights draw in and the temperatures drop.

0 locks, 0 miles, 4 boats am, 1 boat in the locks, 4pm rush hour, 8 berries, 2 undercoats, 1 sanding, 4 backs, 0 eyes, 1 chicken, 1 fragrant breast, 16 roast potatoes, 12 roast carrots, 0.5 cabbage, 0 pudding, 11pm an early boat for the morning.

Cracks Hill to nearly Watford to Home Farm Footbridge 9

What to do with a day off? Go boating. Tilly however was allowed to dictate our departure and was let out as we had breakfast. She was told she had a couple of hours and returned only ten minutes late. We then got ourselves ready to move.

We passed my office bench from yesterday as we pulled away and pootled our way towards the bridge in Crick. As we pulled up one of the hooks we use to hang our fenders from the grab rail broke and the rope fender dropped below the surface. Mick tried his best with a boat hook, but had no luck in finding it.

Our supplies were running low so a shopping trip was needed. The Co-op supplied us with suitable groceries including a roast for tomorrow. How I’ve longed for a roast for months, but the heat hasn’t been suitable to have the oven on for long. Now with the cooler evenings it feels right again, just a shame there were no parsnips available (best to wait for the first frost anyway). We also called in at the Post Office to check another order of wool hadn’t arrived, they now know us by sight and the lady almost went to check before we said anything.

After lunch we pushed off to go to the water point. But very quickly we realised where our rope fender was! Around our prop! At least we knew what it was and that it was our prop not someone else’s. Oleanna was still steerable in forwards, reverse was very noisy. So we decided to carry on to the water point to sort it out, only to meet another boat in the bridge hole. We managed to avoid them without having to use reverse and pulled up at the services. Water filling, yellow water emptied, rubbish disposed of before Mick opened up the weedhatch. There was the offending fender still attached to the broken fender hook.

Before we headed off again we said hello to NB Blackbird, looking all smart in the pool in front of the ABNB office. Her details went on line this week and the photos look very smart. Link to her details here.

With waterproof coats and life jackets donned we made our way through the tunnel passing one boat who must have entered at a similar time to us as we met at the halfway mark. Tilly had been warned that the outside lights would be going off, but she made such a noise shouting at the backdoors. Maybe we might have to get a plug in Feliway that we can turn on on days we’re going to do any tunnels and see if that calms her down any. She sat by the back doors shouting for sometime after the lights had gone back on again.

We pootled our way towards Watford, but didn’t join the three boats waiting to go down. Hazard tape seems to be zigzagging it’s way on the off side by the top lock, it looked more than just a paddle out of action. We winded in sight of the M1 and returned half a mile to moor up with views of the sheep across the cut and just out of ear shot of the motorway.

Tilly and I decided to go Blackberry picking. There’d not been sign of many towards the locks so we walked back towards Crick. There were crabapples but very few blackberries. I should have had a look at Cracks Hill this morning before we left as according to Jaq on NB Valerie she and Les once picked 14 pounds there. I didn’t want quite that many, enough to make a crumble would do.

We walked further and further along the towpath until a chap with a big rucksack came towards us. I thought Tilly would just bob into the sideways trees until he’d passed, but no. This man was now between me and her. He had a funny looking back I didn’t like the look of it. He would stop walking, wouldn’t he! No. He kept coming, slowly, so I kept walking away. The poor chap didn’t want to scare her and was worried she’d get lost. I reassured him that she was just making her way back home, so I followed all the way back to the boat where she hopped into the hedge.

We managed to retrace our steps a little later, only to find a handful of berries.

0 locks, 3.77 miles, 1 tunnel with 0 mysterons, 1 wind, 1 load washing, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, 1 lost fender, 1 found fender, 0 parcels, 1 table booked, 20 blackberries, 1 man, 2 walks.

https://goo.gl/maps/ZLM6NjJ1Jpv

Welford Junction to Cracks Hill

On Monday morning Mick offered to check the voltage on NB Pandas batteries. Lizzie had reported flickering lights and her heating the previous morning had needed the engine running before it would kick start, all suggesting not enough juice in her batteries in the mornings. The voltage wasn’t too bad once checked and Mick gave Lizzie a bit of advice on how to check the voltage in future.

The meanies wouldn’t let me give my opinion, let alone have a look in Pandas box. Panda has a different box to Oleanna, that is because she is a Trad, so her box has another box around it inside Panda. Because they wouldn’t let me look inside I made sure I checked out the box on the towpath. It wasn’t a good box, it was all in bits! After lunch Gary and Lizzie made their way back towards Crick leaving us with new neighbours very quickly filling the space they had left behind.

We are considering having stern stickers printed, that say ‘Please share our mooring ring’. The number of git gaps there have been since we’ve been here. It’s a popular mooring and despite there being plenty of space people were having to use spikes at either end because others hadn’t nudged up!

During the rest of the day I continued with my model, finishing it and taking a full set of photos. This is so that I can remember it in it’s full glory. The first quote to build the set had come in and some pruning is needed, sadly not with scissors, but hopefully the chain saw can stay locked away!

Tuesday and we needed water, so therefore started to head back towards Yelvertoft. Tilly took some convincing that she should stay in otherwise we’d be changing the outside with her in it and the new outside would be quite far away! As Mick stood at the helm  I stayed below and worked my way through the props for panto, doing sketches to illustrate the big auditorium scene. We paused for lunch and then carried on pootling our way to the water point at Yelvertoft.

For once nobody was there and there was plenty of space for us to pull in, leaving enough room for a second boat to moor without having to be on the very wavy armco. Just as the tank was full one of the permanent moorers returned, peering out of their side hatch as though we were in their space. For a short boat they seemed to want a lot of room to moor and as they came in it looked like they would catch our stern. Mick went out the back to check on things as I went to sort the hose. All was well and the dirty looks were taken back.

Now when I say all was well, it actually wasn’t! A certain young second mate saw an opportunity and went for it. Well they kept stopping the outside and tying it up. I liked the look of this one so as Tom had left the back hatch open I went to have a look. We were on a water point and our second mate was AWOL! Another boat had been filling with water, they hadn’t seen her. The people who’s mooring we weren’t on hadn’t seen her either, but a chap with a dog on a lead had. He very helpfully walked to the slight gap in the sideways trees and pointed to where Tilly had vanished.

The lady on the boat behind started calling ‘Here Puss Puss’ and the boat at the front started to look around. To me, after calling Tilly a couple of times there seemed little point in everyone making a fuss, she was less likely to come, especially with the helpful man and his dog around! I was about to make a work phone call and try to be really really interesting on the towpath (it usually works to get a cats attention) when the boat ahead shouted ‘She’s there!’ followed by ‘Grab her!’  This luckily wasn’t possible as she was behind a locked gate. I know my cat and had the chap attempted to grab her she would have jumped to just out of reach a couple of times before heading off into some nettles or brambles, I speak from experience!

Fortunately she found something with an interesting smell on our side of the sideways trees and was transfixed by it. I leaned over and just picked her up. Everyone was relieved, especially us as we could now move on to Cracks Hill. For a short time we had become Continuous Cruisers who had to wait for their cat before they could move on! Some people have to wait days! We do our best to avoid such instances and for this occasion we blame the stare we got from the side hatch of the boat coming in to moor. If it hadn’t been for that lady our stern hatch would have been closed. What is it with Yelvertoft Water Point and our second mates? Houdini managed to go walk about there too!

Our place at Cracks Hill was taken, normally we’d have headed closer to the village but I needed to make a phone call and signal exists here. So we pulled as far back away from the winding hole as possible on the armco. Mick walked into the village for some supplies and to pick up a parcel from the Post Office whilst I tried and failed to make my call.

The yarn for my first Etsy custom order had arrived which means I will be spending my evenings knitting again.

This morning an arranged phone call to my Production Manager at 9:30 finally put an end to us playing telephone ping pong. The bench opposite Cracks Hill became my office as boats passed by, Tilly shouted at trees in the field below, Mick brought me a tea and the M1 droned away in the background. After our conversation I spent the remainder of the day flattening my design and blacking bits of set out with the hope that these alterations will bring us back into budget. Mick has pottered away the day, whilst Tilly has studied the life and habits of the local Water Voles.

0 locks, 9.65 miles, 2 more git gaps, 12.5 volts, 1 full water tank, 1 awol cat, 7 person search party, 0 understanding of ‘Here Puss Puss’, 0 grabbing, 1 picking up, 10 minutes delay, 2 pings, 4 pongs, 9:30 sharp, 1 damp office chair, 1 tea boy, 2 flat gods, 9 hours, 1 stove lit, 3 balls of yarn, 1 day off tomorrow.

https://goo.gl/maps/Fe2q6uVRoEP2

Welford Basin to Welford Junction

A sign in the grass close to our bow warned of a wasps nest. I’d not managed to stir the black and yellow critters when we moored yesterday, but when it became the only space left a boat that pulled in did. They nestled their bow behind ours so as not to have to tie their bow rope, but the buzzing started. We were glad to not be that boat, yet slept with all the windows closed, hoping they would leave us alone.

Some fresh veg was needed, so we decided to have a walk into the village making a detour en route.

Taking a road to the left we headed up to look at the reservoirs that feed the summit pound of the Grand Union. Welford and Sulby Reservoirs sit side by side with a damn in between them that you can walk across.

The Welford side showed signs of the drought, the fishing pegs high above the water line, weed covered trees exposed to the sunlight. I’ve seen photos of the reservoirs up near Huddersfield recently and they are far far lower.

The Sulby side was down by a few feet, not reaching the weir between the two.

In the centre of the damn is a paddle mechanism that runs thorough several universal joints down to a sluice between the two lakes. The spindle wasn’t a standard C&RT one but someone has noted which way it should be turned to close it.

We walked across the damn and on across the fields to look at Old Sulby a medieval village mentioned in the Doomsday survey as having 13 householders. Not much can be seen other than uneven ground on the rolling hills. Google earth shows the earth works more clearly.

The village may not have been very visible but the signs of drought were very very obvious in the field leading to it. The crop of some sort of beans has been left to die, dry out, or sprayed with killer, but we suspect the former.

The thin blackened stems and black pods look like they have had a flame thrower passed over the whole field. The occasional sprout of a previous crop the only sign of green in the whole field. As we walked the path deep wide cracks in the earth showed just how dry the land has become, even after the recent rain they still show. It’s going to take quite some time for the fields to return to normal.

On the edge of the desolate apocalyptic field we could see a green border highlighted with yellow. The bean crop was dead but around it a swath of sunflowers had been loving the heat and sunshine. After the depressing sight of the field this sunny border brightened up the landscape.

The flowers were in differing states. Some new bright and sunny, being loved by bumble bees. Some fading loosing their petals. Others drying out with heavy heads. Others starting to discard their seeds to the dry earth below.

After picking up some fresh veg and stocking up on milk we decided to have an early lunch then move up to the water tap to fill the tank after doing a load of washing. We then winded and headed back down the lock and arm to find a space at the moorings at the junction. Several boats were already moored up, it’s a favourite spot to do maintenance jobs. The chap behind us is here to paint his gunnels, the hard low edge makes it an ideal place. If I didn’t have work to do I’d be doing exactly the same, but Oleanna will have to wait a while longer before she gets some much needed TLC on the painting front.

1 lock, 1.83 miles, 1 wind, 1 left, 1 bees nest avoided, 1 wet night, 2 reservoirs, 1 flummoxed Fountains man, 1 dead field, 352 sunny sunflowers, 1 head of broccoli, 2 pints milk, 4 rashers bacon, 1 pot taramosalata, 1 full water tank, 1 load washing, 3 woofers, 2 hinges, 1 floor, 2 sets of treads, 1 sun.

https://goo.gl/maps/nr1J3k4i2YN2

Bridge 60 to Welford Basin

There is a fault!

I’m not sure whether it’s a fault with Tom, our boat or just the outside. It happened the other day too.

They pushed the outside away this morning, they’d had enough of it. I would have liked it for a few more days, but no, it got pushed away. They tied up another for a while whilst they filled the big box at the front with water. Then that one got pushed away, turned around and then moved.

Today she was inside with me, putting colour all over bits of intricate card. I offered to help but she was reluctant, she said my paws were too big for the job. My paws are far smaller than hers, so it didn’t make sense. I left her to it and went to sleep on the bed, I can stretch out during the day.

This is when the fault/malfunction happened. All of a sudden the outside lights went out. Completely out! They have a tendency to flicker on and off every now and then, but they reassure me that this is only normal as the outside gets moved. Have to say it’s very alarming when I’m outside and it happens. But this was different.

She had the inside lights on where she was, but outside there was none. The inside looked like it was outside! No matter which window I looked at the inside was outside! But it was still inside too!! There were loads of insides everywhere! Argh!! It happened the other day and a couple of times the other week. All she did was sit there! I had to do something so shouted to the outside to turn the lights back on, but it couldn’t hear me. I shouted and shouted and still it ignored me. Maybe it wasn’t the lights, maybe Tom had lost the outside! I shouted at him and all he kept saying was ’That way out’, What’s that meant to mean? Was the outside that way? Maybe we were going to have to evacuate this outside that wasn’t there.

She tried to get me interested in her little things. How could she not be worried about what was going on!!! There were at least three of her!

Then as if nothing had happened the lights came back on. The insides all disappeared, well apart the one that should be there.

I shall be logging my fault report with C&RT, there is obviously something wrong.

1 lock, 8.9 miles, 1 wind, 1 tunnel, 1 left, 1 full water tank, 1 empty wee tank, 2 sheep, 1 bees nest, 3 hours shore leave reduced for H&S reasons, 1 malfunctioning outside! Is anybody listening to me?!

https://goo.gl/maps/HavkeN4WFP72

Foxton

Sitting with the side hatch open you can hear things going on for quite a distance. This morning we gradually could hear what sounded like a heated debate, or argument going on in strong Welsh accents. Not too sure what it was all about but she certainly wasn’t happy with him. As their boat got closer the engine noise got louder and so did the argument. A hire boat. Living in a confined space isn’t for everyone, this was going to be a jolly holiday for them! As the boat passed by they continued bickering, we made a mental note not to moor anywhere near them if we came across them again. Then we noticed that the couple were not alone. Sat by the tiller was another couple who looked very much like they wanted the boat to capsize and for the canal to swallow them up. Doubt they will be going on any further holidays with their friends!

More work for me, more towpath time for Tilly and more cricket to listen to for Mick. England however weren’t doing so well so by mid morning Mick headed off down to the locks to watch what was going on, he’s becoming a regular gongoozler.

Foxton is a flight of narrow locks, made up of two staircase locks with five chambers each. Because the locks are narrow only one way traffic is possible through the staircases. At the mid point there is a short pound where one boat can be passed by others. Some of the Lock Keepers make use of the passing place whilst others prefer not to. When you arrive at the locks the first thing you have to do is go and find the Lock Keeper with the book to check in. You are then normally told whether to start to come down, where you are in the queue or to put the kettle on and have lunch as there is a long wait. We’ve been up and down the flight several times in the past, we have had the whole flight to ourselves and had to queue setting off down the flight in the middle of a group of three boats.

The locks are easy to use as long as you remember the rhyme,

Red before white and you’ll be alright. White before red and you’ll be dead!

At the mid point the red and white paddles are at different sides of the short pound, it takes a little bit of time to walk from one to the other, but it stops a lock full of water being wasted and going straight down the bywash. Mick watched as one boat came down, he stopped them from lifting the wrong paddle first, pointing out a sign on the lock beam, the crew went off to check with one of the lock keepers, Mick had been correct and the paddles were done in the correct order.

Then all chaos!

One boat had come up and was waiting in the middle passing place, three more were making their way down the top flight. A boat was spotted in the second chamber from the bottom heading up. How had they got there? Why were they there? Who had told them they could start to come up? With two boats pointing downhill in the top five locks, one boat at the top of the bottom five pointing downhill and one in the passing place there was nowhere for anyone to go. If they carried on up the flight there would have been four boats in the middle pound before anyone could carry on and it is only just big enough for two boats to pass each other. Something had gone wrong somewhere!

The Lock Keepers came and sorted it out. The boat coming up had to reverse down the bottom two locks to clear the way for the three coming down hill, once these were all out of the way they could start the flight for a second time. The boat in the passing place, once the top five chambers were clear could start heading up again. We are fairly sure that we know the boat that was in the way and they will have done Foxton many times as they moor in the area. So was it just a misunderstanding? Had they been told one thing when another had been meant? Was one of the five Lock Keepers having a laugh? Who knows. But what I do know is that it kept Mick occupied for much of the morning and some of the afternoon which meant we had quite a late lunch.

The sun had come out and the cricket seemed to have improved whilst Mick had been watching boats, but then England started to loose wickets again!

0 locks, 0 miles, 3 down, 2 up, 1 a bit too early, 1 base colour, 11 hours! 1 cat too tired to eat, 1 wicket left.