Barford Old Mills

Tilly wasn’t too impressed that we’d made the decision to cancel all shore leave this morning and well into the afternoon until the temperature hopefully dropped. She spent much of the day lying on either our bed, the floor or whinging at the back door, but very little of it keeping her fluid in take up.

The white sheets were lowered as soon as Mick woke and they wafted away in the not so gentle breeze. We adopted the keep everything closed method again, aiming to attempt to keep the interior temperature as low as we could. People being interviewed on TV talking about the what happens to the human body when it gets too hot just made me feel dizzy even before the temperature reached 30C outside!

As we had breakfast we could hear an engine, someone was on the move. The tone changed, reverse! Were we going to get another neighbour? Yes, NB Atropos was backing in to join us. Mick went out to lend a hand. I could hear that her experience of Bedford had not been a good one, the riverside heaving with people enjoying the heat, getting on her boat to ask questions, generally not helping her to feel safe. So despite the soaring temperatures she’d moved off very early today. It was good to have her back with us.

Inside we sat, pottering away on computers. Mick caught up on the Tour de France coverage, just how were those people managing to cycle in the heat? We knew they were mad to start off with, but….

The temperature outside steadily rose, every curtain and window closed on Oleanna. The fan was set in motion, wet towels hung around the boat, t shirts dampened down again, a repeat of yesterday except the day started hotter and the mercury kept on rising.

Every half hour or so I’d give Tilly a damp flannel down, hoping it would have much the same effect as wetting our t-shirts. As much as she didn’t want me to do it, she tolerated it and at times even purred. If I’d tried this with Houdini my previous cat I’d have been left with several fewer digits.

Mick brought the temperature gauge from the kitchen. Inside seemed to be staying around 7 degrees cooler than outside, then if you left it on the floor with Tilly a while it dropped another couple of degrees.

As the sun moved round we decided that moving the sheets to the starboard side would be worth doing. It’s only in the sun for a couple of hours, but if we could keep the cabin side from getting too hot then it would cool down sooner and enable us to sleep better tonight. Mick wet his hat before venturing out, I applied some kitchen foil to the windows with water and a drop of washing up liquid sprayed on the glass.

A sheet hit the water, the wind gently made it drift towards the stern where it could be removed and redeployed on the cabin side. Our rope fenders used to help keep the sheets in place, then we retired back inside to carry on wilting and damping Tilly down every half hour.

A swimmer arrived, went in the river a few times then hung around as we started to emerge from inside. The shade now having taken over from the sun and hopefully the ground starting to cool down. We needed the air replenishing inside the boat and Tilly really needed to stretch her legs even if it was still 37. something outside.

Gosh that wind was strong and hot. Gosh that swimmer wouldn’t shut up!

The boat now in full shade and clouds starting to cover the sky we started to unwrap the boat. Glazing came out of the frames, sheets were folded up, foil off the windows. Outside was still hotter than in, but we really needed that breeze.

Our third barbeque in a row, Salmon with lemon and spinach, veg kebabs and the remainder of some rice drizzled with dressing. When a weary Tilly showed herself she was picked up and popped inside the boat, doors closed again.

Rain! It didn’t bother us so long as the food cooked, we’d spent most of the day wet anyhow, what harm could a few drops of rain do.

The temperature outside slowly but surely dropped, the cabin a touch more reluctant to follow suit. The fan on our faces, cool mat under my feet as we watched the news of fires springing up across the country. We’d made it through the two hottest days we’ve know on the boat. We just had one more night to try to sleep, temperatures still around 30C.

I squoze toothpaste out onto my toothbrush and popped it in my mouth. Urgh, hotter than the veg kebabs we’d eaten this evening! Urghhh!!!

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 returning neighbour, 1 boat sealed up, 38.7C outside, 33.5C inside, 2 degrees cooler at Tilly level, 16 flannel baths, 2 wet towels, 2 frozen salmon steaks, 1 annoying swimmer, 1 model box, 1 email of notes, 2 boaters and 1 cat survived.