He’ll Drown Soon. 3rd July

One Pound GOBA Mooring

Nine hours!

Brilliant, a Sausage Day, well that’s what She said it would be.

Sausage Day!

All the doors were opened whilst Tom cooked their morning dingding and I could come and go as I liked, I went for a couple of hours and had a very good time. No photographic evidence of what I got up to so that’s for me and my friends to know. I returned to Tom and She who were just sitting tipperty tapping, I had a snooze then went out again.


This time it was different! Huge big cows filled the outside. Today had just turned from a Sausage Day into a Beef Burger Day!

Cows smell and poo everywhere! They must have had a conversation with She as they wouldn’t let me near the tree that overhangs the river, I could have easily watched them from up there, but no! Instead I hid just out of view.

They won’t find me here!

Tom came out when all the cows had gone, but the cows had taken the sun with them, so it was a touch chilly. We had quite a pleasant time, me doing my thing and Tom listening to cricket in his ears, that must be so uncomfortable.

Cheese scones

Meanwhile She did some baking. She says if you click on the photo it will tell you how to make them.

Shew, go away! It’s my outside today, all day!!!

We’ve had loads of boats come past us today. Some fast, some slow. Some big, some paddleboards. We’re glad we’d claimed our mooring early on yesterday.

Two inflatable canoes came past, a mother and daughter in one (quite competent and making good progress), the other with father and son (Dad reclined at an odd angle, son doing all the work). A while later when they returned there was a discussion going on about how far it was to get back, He said a mile, She said a fraction of a mile.

Thousands of bickering Graylags

The back of the chaps inflatable didn’t seem to be that inflated anymore, he was still lying down, his and his son’s paddling only digging them deeper into the reeds on the otherside of the river from us. The son was obviously miffed at Dad who was excelling himself having a strop that you’d see in a toddler, he’d obviously not wanted to go canoeing in the first place! Discussions were on going about how they’d get back to land, ‘It’s a MILE!’ he said. ‘Well what do you think you’ll do?’ Mum asked. ‘I think we’ll swim’ came the reply. Very soon afterwards the reclined figure slipped into the water in a haruff sulky way.

Eventually the chaps both in the water clung onto the inflatable and trailed behind Mum. Dad kicking to aid movement, Mum shouting ‘Who ever is kicking STOP IT!

I said, ‘He’ll drown soon, if she holds his head under for long enough!’ I can hear the arguments in the car going home now.

Not a bad spot

The day had started off sunny, we’d defrosted food with a barbeque in mind, but had we miscalculated? We decided to battle on creating a wind break with our chairs and pop jumpers on, such a lovely mooring couldn’t be wasted.

What an evening

As the charcoals turned white hot, the sun returned, the breeze subsided into a wonderful evening. Add into the mix the high pitched tweet of a Kingfisher darting up the river. Wonderful.

Happy boaters

Then add another two Kingfishers darting back and forth in front of us, three all at once. Wow!

0 locks, 0 miles, 0 sausages, 1 rasher of bacon each, 0 burgers, 432 cows, 64 boats, 7 paddleboarders, 7 canoes, 1 lawnmower, 2 inflatables, 1 deflating, 40 year old sulking dad acting like a 2 year old, 1 Mum wondering why she married him, 9 hours turned into 10.5, 3 Kingfishers, 2 pork steaks, 4 veg kebabs, 11 cheese scones.

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