Retford and Worksop Boat Club

With Tilly busy outside I got the bathroom bottomed and then the mop and bucket out. Two washes for the floor today, then a nice sit down outside whilst everything dried off. This gave me chance to chat to the lady from the boat behind and a chap who’d been cutting the grass, we’d found ourselves all staring out across the field alongside the moorings.

We’ve actually been plugged into the boat behind’s electric, which I apologised for, when we’d arrived they’d been moored nearer the club house but had come back to their mooring. I promised that tomorrow when we moved off I’d make sure she was plugged back into her meter.

Over in Scarborough Mick visited the hospital first thing then headed back to the house to finish off and pick up his bits, leaving our new lodger in residence. He then hopped onto the Coastliner bus to York. However, with the bus running 15 minutes late on arriving in to Malton and it being full of very noisy kids he decided to swap modes of transport to York and changed to the train, not free but would mean he’d catch all his connections, most importantly the last bus back to Clayworth which leaves Retford at 15:55.

After lunch I plotted out a walk. Maybe 50 minutes, I should be back just before Mick arrived. Back along the towpath towards Drakeholes, I then retraced my steps towards the Nature Reserve, finding a path across the harvested field much easier than when going the opposite way.

I could see clouds of dust being kicked up by the tractors in the fields bailing up the straw. I hoped that the field I was wanting to return by wouldn’t be being harvested.

On reaching the River Idle I turned almost back on myself into the next field, maize, these certainly wouldn’t be being harvested yet. My OS map showed a path across the field heading in a north north easterly direction, now where was that path? The start of the field was a touch bald of crop, so maybe the way through was a touch further in.

Hmmm?! No sign of it. It should just clip the corner of the next field! I started to walk along one of the tractor gangways hoping to find a way through. Nope! I walked and walked, at least the going was easy on the wide path. Aware that maybe I should be walking around the edge of the field I decided that actually I’d be doing no harm to my self or the crop by keeping to the pathway. On and on it went, the maize getting higher and higher. Over head I could hear a plane. Was I about to enter into a Hitchcock film? Be chased along through the crop by a plane swooping low? My pace was brisk, brisker than normal. If I carried on north by north north east I must surely reach the edge of the field sooner or later. Thankfully gradually the maize reduced in height and the edge of the crop arrived. I walked back to South south east to where I could see a bridge over a drainage ditch. I was back on track.

Except no I wasn’t! Another field of maize! The footpath totally obscured again, the tractor pathways narrower than before and running almost due north not north east. At least this field looked to be smaller and I soon reached the far end, followed the edge of the field back southwards, crossed into the next field. oh thank goodness a proper grassy path to follow.

But swapping into the next field to walk the boundary I really needed a machete! Brambles, nettles, thistles clawed at me, the not so friendly cover at times over my head, was this really a footpath? There had been a yellow topped post pointing me this way. Then finally I climbed up through some bracken another yellow topped post and popped out onto the towpath, what a relief!

The swans escorted me to Otters Bridge where I walked up in to the village skirting across the bottoms of some gardens, managing to avoid a growling silver back gorilla. At the back of The Blacksmiths pub was a mobile Post Office, very handy if I’d anything to post.

It was now a few minutes after when the bus was due in. When I’d set out on my walk my return time should have been sufficient to have boiled the kettle ready for Mick’s return, but after my extra mile and a half Hitchcock detour he’d get back to Oleanna before me. Sure enough I could see him just stepping down into the well deck.

We spent some time looking at where we need to be next and when. Where would serve our purposes best? A plan was put together to reach the top of the Chesterfield Canal, we just have to hope for no fallen trees, serious weed, or a lack of water to stop our progress.

We’ve got all our fingers, toes and paws crossed.

0 locks, 0 miles, 2 buses, 2 trains, 1 very clean boat, 6 hours shore leave, 1 Hitchcock walk, 1.5 mile detour, 1 jar of olives, 1 boy back home, 79 brisk minutes, 1 plan formulated.