Category Archives: History

Fens and Flutterbys. 26th June

Wicken Fen GOBA Mooring to Reach Lode GOBA Mooring

Time to dust off the National Trust cards, today would be their first outing since before the pandemic when we visited the Back to Backs in Birmingham.

Wicken Fen is 254.5 hectares and is a SSSI protected by international designations as a Ramsar wetland site of international importance. It is one of the oldest nature reserves in the country and the first to have been looked after by the National Trust after it was donated by Charles Rothschild in 1901.

Here you can see an area of natural fen land, no pumping out of water to dry the land for agriculture here, in fact at times water is pumped in to help maintain the land. Where we are moored at Monk’s Lode, water is pumped under Wicken Lode and into the fen by a modern windmill (on the left).

The last surviving wooden wind pump (on the right) in the Fens sits proudly over looking the swaying grasses and sedge. It was built around 1912 and was moved from Adventurers’ Fen and restored in 1956. The windmill sails still have sheets wrapped round them ready to to be stretched out to catch the wind, the round shape at the back is where the wheel is to lift water from the drain into the fen to help maintain a high water table.

There are several walks around the area, we chose to walk the Boardwalk and then the woodland walk. Easels are located at places pointing out plantlife, dragonflies, damselflies, birds and in the woodland butterflies. Most of the time living examples wizz past.

In a hide we settled down, quieter than a mouse to watch to see what might happen. The bird feeders attracted a lot of Goldfinches, I think at one point we had about six of them vying for the seed. Such colourful birds the air filled with only their song. Sadly the noise of some people coming into the hide sent them all flying away until the new observers settled down, but only a brave couple of birds returned.

Parts of the fen have changed due to drying out. More plants have taken hold and in some areas trees have taken root. The woodland area a haven for butterflies. There were numerous easels about them. We spotted a Brimstone that flew by and then politely hung from under a leaf, showing off it’s perfect camouflage, if we’d not seen it fly in we’d have never have known it was there.

Flittering White wings occasionally haphazardly flew past us, the odd Peacock and Red Admiral all butterflies of child hood. Then there were masses of small brown butterflies, few wanting to take a rest long enough for the camera to focus upon them. A Speckled Wood, but plenty more without obvious markings. All we could see at the time was a yellowy cream outline to their wings. Later on studying the photos black dots could be seen meaning that they were Ringlets.

We walked out across the fen spotting Meadow Sweet that will soon be filling the air with its fragrance, a smell I will always associate with the Chesterfield Canal. We’d been told to look out for orchids, were these some?

**That’s a nice narrowboat over there!**

Back round to where we’d started after a pleasant walk. You could spend several quiet days walking the fen, seeing and hearing all sorts of nature.

Across the way sat an old cottage with a colourful garden. In the open door way an invite for you to take a peek inside. Nobody had mentioned the cottage and barns, but we did as invited and took a peek. A cockerel came over to show himself off. An outside privy, just as you’d expect except that the newspaper to wipe one’s behind is now photocopied!

Boats used for catching eels with wicker traps, nets for plovers (lapwings). So much crammed into a few barns that we’d nearly walked past.

**This could be Reach Lode or Wicken both narrow and amazonian**

A late lunch and then we were ready to push off, more Lodes to explore. The cruisier behind had left earlier thank goodness as the wind was going to make it hard for us to wind, the bow constantly being pushed over and the stern heading straight for the bank. Eventually we got round and aimed in the right direction, soon meeting the trip boat coming back to drop off it’s visitors.

The going was slow again, I headed to the bow to spread the weight more evenly which helped a touch. A family filled a canoe and so many dragonflies flitted about like fairies. Or do fairies flit about like dragonflies?

We got almost to the junction before we were caught up by the last trip boat of the day. Mick had considered pulling in here to moor but there was still no space on the EA moorings, so we turned eastward had a discussion as to which Lode we’d venture down first, Reach came out top.

Now deeper, or so it seemed for a while, the going was a touch quicker. The Lodes are higher than the surrounding land and without flood banks you actually get a view.

At the fork we turned to the south east towards Reach, reeds started to surround us, swaying in the stiff breeze. Then masses of blanket weed, the sort that tangles props up really well. Mick knocked us out of gear to glide through such sections. Was this only to get worse the further we progressed? We were now just that bit to far along the lode to reverse out again, so onwards we went, thankfully the blanket weed gradually diminished.

At Reach the lode splits in two, well it looks like it used to. Signs warn that this is the end of the navigation and permission should be sought to moor from the Parish Council. Just beyond there were the GOBA signs. Was there space for one or more boats, would there be anywhere in full sunlight? There was space for two or three, but it all looked rather shallow. We tried pulling in where there was less tree coverage, here would have been good last week for the 32C day. The depth prohibited access to land, we backed up and tried again. All the time the stern getting stuck on the bottom. We eventually made it back to the start of the moorings, the bow almost came into the side, just enough to get off, then Mick powered Oleanna round. The ropes were wrapped round trees, we were moored, our plank only just long enough to reach land. This however wasn’t a problem for Tilly!

We hope that tomorrow we’ll be able to get ourselves free again, as it may be some time before anyone else ventures down here!

0 locks, 4.08 miles, 1 wind, 1 left, 2 rights, 1 big fen, 2 windmills, 6531 butterflies, 431 damselflies, 311 dragonflies, 1 canoe, 1 cat tip toing along the plank, 6ft plank only just long enough, 1 very shallow mooring, 0 sight seeing from here, 1 supermarket delivery moved back.

https://goo.gl/maps/Re6B6stACL6d2AiD6

A Tale Of Two Colleges. 23rd June

Fort St George, Cambridge

When in a University city such as Oxford or Cambridge we feel we should visit a college or two. With a lot to choose from we chose two which couldn’t be more different from each other.

First was the tourist attraction of Kings College. I wanted to visit the college as it is where a chorister kicks off Christmas Eve singing Once in Royal Davey Daddies City. To be honest I hadn’t come across this until Mick came into my life, now every year either the TV or radio are on for us to listen. The chapel is also quite a visual treat.

Entrance is best booked in advance, if you can book a week in advance you’ll get £1 off your ticket. The entrance is down Senate House Passage which leads to the north door of the chapel.

As soon as you walk in the ceiling and stained glass grab your eyes. I love fan vaulting so I was always going to enjoy our visit. A sit down was needed to appreciate the pleasing structure way over head. One area caught the eye, a very smiley sun just off symmetry, a helium balloon that someone had lost grip of. I wonder how long it will take for it to loose it’s attraction to the ceiling?

King Henry VI laid the foundation stone in 1444, King’s one of his two ‘royal and religious’ foundations, the other being Eton. Both the school and college were to admit a maximum of 70 scholars drawn from poor backgrounds, boys from Eton were guaranteed entry to Kings. From his original plans only the chapel was ever built and that took almost a century. Subsequent Kings took on the college, it’s building paused during the Wars of the Roses.

The anti-chapel is overwhelmingly carved. Half crowns stand out from the walls, back lit. Tudor heraldic emblems fill every space left around the stained glass windows.

The dark oak screen which houses the organ was a gift from Henry VIII and bears his and Anne Boleyn’s initials. It’s not as elaborate as many choir screens, but not many date back to this time. He also commissioned the stained glass windows for the north, south and east sides of the chapel, split in two with Old Testament at the top and new Testament below. Sitting looking up at them there is a lot of bright blue sky.

The choir stalls line the sides, seats going on forever, no wonder the choir is famed.

Below the East window stands The Adoration of the Magi, painted by Rubens in 1634. During my A level Art I studied Rubens, I think the best essay I ever wrote at school was about his portrayal of naturally curved women.

You then get the chance to walk around some of the outside areas. Today the Front Court was off bounds as the May Ball was being cleared away. It appears that this years thing is bumper cars, we came across them elsewhere in Cambridge today too. The gatehouse and screen, separate the college from the city’s streets and it’s people, the architecture ornate and delicate dates from the 1820s.

Behind the court lies the Back Lawn, the majority grass. Don’t stand on it whatever you do! Then directly in front of Kings Chapel the grass has been sewn with wild flowers, a sea of waist high daisies with paths leading down to the River Cam. Very pretty and tasty for the bees.

As we crossed over the Bridge we looked back, the whole place shouted MONEY at us. We’d done THE tourist college with it’s spectacular ceiling and old masters, and Keep of the grass signs, now it was time for something very different.

On the north west side of the city, up Huntington Road lies Murray Edwards College. Originally founded as New Hall in 1954, the first year had just 16 women students in buildings on Silver Street, it set out to try and address the low number of women undergraduates at Cambridge University . It was able to relocate to Huntington Road when the Darwin family donated their home The Orchard. The college buildings were opened in 1964 with the capacity for 300 students. In 2005 the college was renamed after it’s first President Dame Rosemary Murray and Ros and Steve Edwards who made a large donation to the college.

Architects Chamberlain, Powell and Bon had designed the Barbican and Golden Lane Estates in London, they were chosen along with the builders WC French who had built the original motorway bridges on the M1. See, I told you it was completely different.

The dining hall known as The Dome is made up of precast concrete, 4 inches thick, flanged so that they overlap each other with glass panels in between. The dome soars high above the first floor, your eye naturally pulled to it’s centre. Four staircases spiral down to the ground and lower floors, one in each corner.

Large wooden glazed doors invite you into rooms where the texture of the concrete has either been left ruff almost like the sea bed, or polished smooth. Cream brickwork on curved walls surrounds the Fountain Court with its blue lined troughs of water and of course it’s fountains.

Long glazed corridors with large windows, many open today for fresh air create open walkways from parts of the college to the next. For me this was reminiscent of parts of York University and parts of the house my Dad built as our family home.

The Porter was very friendly, gave us both a sticker for the Women’s Art Collection along with a big white folder with details of where we could go and the artworks held within the college and it’s 14 acres of gardens, and yes we’d be allowed to walk on the grass!

The collection is formed of modern and contemporary art by women, the largest of it’s kind in Europe. It was founded in 1986 and has expanded since then with donations and loans from artists. The college houses more than 500 works, including pieces by Barbara Hepworth, Tracy Emin, Rebecca Fortnum to name just a few. Every corner you turn there is another work, at the bases of staircases sculptures sit.

As we left we turned round, numerous potted plants sitting on the front steps a black cat lurking in there somewhere, we decided that we preferred it here to Kings. More inclusive, relaxed, warm, arty, airy, grass between your toes friendly. Well worth a visit and it’s free! Thank you Bridget for pointing us in the colleges direction.

We now walked back into the city, one last thing on the list of essential things to do in Cambridge to tick off the list, Jack’s Gelato!

The queue was far shorter late afternoon and it was just the right length to have made the very hard decision of which flavour to have. To save any bickering between us we both chose Dark Chocolate and Sea Salt. Mick had a standard waffle cone, I paid the extra for a gluten free one, a rare thing! We sat down on the wall outside King’s College our backs turned towards the money and enjoyed our well earned chilled medication.

0 locks, 1 walked over twice, 0 miles, 7 miles walked, 2 colleges, 513 years apart, 1 spectacular ceiling, 1 mesmerising ceiling, 1 organ screen, 1 walkway of roses, 1 Ruben, 2 Tracy Emin and a Barbara Hepworth, £11, £0, 2 chilled medications well deserved.

Sitting In His Dad’s Seat. 22nd June

Fort St George, Cambridge

Last night Cambridge was treated to a firework display, sadly we could only just make out the wizz bangs and flashes from behind the trees on the common. This was soon followed by what sounded like a concert somewhere in the city. Maybe Bruce Springsteen!? If it was he did a bad cover of Live and Let Die, the other songs were unrecognisable as we tried to drop off to sleep with the aim of getting up early. The May Balls in Cambridge have started.

The No 7 bus was late arriving, in fact it was embarrassed of the fact and came incognito as the No 5, changing itself whilst we weren’t looking! As other people headed to the bus who’d also been waiting we went to check, managing to stop the driver from heading off without us. Then we wanted a Cambridgeshire Multibus ticket which the driver had never heard of, so this took another five minutes at least to sort. Would we make our connection? The answer to this was no! By the time we reached Sawston we’d missed the 7A by at least five minutes. What to do now? There was still quite a distance to go and there was over an hours wait for the next service.

Thankfully the next bus got us that bit closer, dropping us off in the village of Duxford. From here we found a footpath that took us across a field, from where we could see our destination, a very large hanger on the other side of the M11. After a mile and a half walk we’d arrived walking underneath the wings of a Spitfire at the gates of the Imperial War Museum Duxford.

With some birthday money Mick had decided to treat us to a visit to the airfield. The museum is vast as you’d expect being on an airfield, stretching out almost as far as we could see. Today would be a long day making the most of our visit.

First we headed for the British Airliner Collection, looked after by the Duxford Aviation Society. Mick had been in contact with them via Facebook a couple of days ago and a chap called Jim had offered to come and open up one of the planes for us to have a look inside, they are only open up when there are enough volunteers about. We loitered on the tarmac whilst Jim unlocked all the doors, then we were shown inside, the Closed signs put back in position behind us. We’d have the plane to ourselves for a while.

This Trident Two was flown by Mick’s Dad fifty years ago shortly before he retired from being a pilot. This year Peter would have been 100, so this was a visit we just had to make.

Jim showed us into the spacious cockpit. The Co-pilots seat would be easier to get into as there was no jump seat behind it, but Mick wanted to sit in the left hand seat, the pilots seat, saying ‘Hello Dad’ as he sat down.

Jim ran us through all the instruments, although Mick knew most of them anyway. Stories were exchanged and of course photos taken.

This Trident Two flew with British European Airways from 1968 to 1972, when it was leased to Cyprus Airways. Damaged by gunfire during the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974, it was abandoned at Nicosia Airport. In 1977 the bullet holes were repaired and after a complete overhaul it re-joined the fleet in what was by then British Airways until it was retired in 1982.

**Captain Geraghty and Co-pilot Leckenby**

Tridents were built with ‘blind landing’ capabilities, the plane able to land in thick fog, enabling them to be a reliable passenger service. It had a range of 2,700 miles and could carry 115 passengers at a cruising speed of 580mph.

I’d been expecting Jim to be older, volunteers at museums like this tend to be. But Jim knew his stuff, he holds a pilots licence and has worked around airliners and is most definitely a plane enthusiast. As he showed us into the cabin a chap came saying he was wanting to give the Trident a wash and hadn’t expected it to be open today. With our leisurely tour over Jim locked the plane back up and moved over to open up the plane next door.

We walked up the line of British Airliners. A Viscount, Peter may have flown this plane too, along with the last plane in the line an Airspeed Ambassador which became known as an Elizabethan after the newly crowned Queen, it is the last one in the world.

Planes were taking off and coming in to land, the runway in constant use, we didn’t feel the need for a flight at £45 a go, what we now needed was a cuppa and a snack whilst formulating a plan for the remainder of the day. A cafe in the American hanger provided us with refreshments and we plotted ourselves a route back towards the entrance, picking and choosing what we’d see.

If Mick’s Dad hadn’t retired he would most probably have moved on to flying the BAC I-II which was designed and built in Britain and was the most successful, 244 were built. Jim showed us round this plane too, a much more compact cockpit, no navigator seat required. A much narrower plane with no first class seats. Having a door under the tail meant that turn arounds could be swift. The plane could land, luggage off loaded, refuelled, new luggage and passengers were on board and ready for take off in the blink of an eye.

Thank you so much to Jim for volunteering, opening up the planes and giving us a lot of your time.

The Battle of Britain Ops Block told the story of those who worked at Duxford. The base supported the defence of London with several squadrons flying out from here. The Dowding System was employed where the country was divided into groups, then subdivided into sectors, each sector having a Sector Station with an Ops Room.

Wing Commander Alfred ‘Woody’ Woodhall, who was found to be short sighted in one eye at the beginning of WW2. Pilots were not allowed to wear glasses, so he got round this by wearing a monocle and continued flying for some time, later becoming Duxfords Station Commander.

The Opps Room is laid out how it would have been and accompanied by a projected film, lighting and recordings relives what it was like as five squadrons took off to head off the Germans.

**Butternut squash salad and brisket burger**

Lunch was taken in the Workshop Restaurant as Spitfires and Hurricanes flew past.

We walked round the Battle of Britain hanger.

Around privately owned planes, a bus and a German one-man submarine.

Then we headed for the Air and Space Hanger. Lined up outside was a vast array of Classic Cars, there was an auction taking place. We headed to the balcony over looking the bids, below a few rich people bid for vehicles. Sadly we missed how much the star of the sale went for a 1969 Ferrari 365GT Rebodied in the style of a ‘Pontoon Fender’ Testa Rossa, estimated at £350,000 to £400,000! No wonder it had ropes round it!

Away from the cars we learnt all about man and flight. In 1853 George Cayley designed a man carrying glider which successfully left the ground for 130m, a British aviation pioneer from close to Scarborough.

Looking across the hanger at all the planes, some suspended above others, we spotted another we had to spend time with, another plane that Mick’s Dad flew, the Lancaster. What a difference from the airliners, at least he was a pilot who got some heating unlike most of the crew.

**Look at those Ugg Boots! Peter in the middle**

To while away a bit more time we went to have a closer look at the classic cars, one had shouted out to be owned by me so we had to see what it was.

A 1937 Fiat 500 Topolino. What a pretty dinky car. A closer look and I spotted a few things that would bring the estimate down from £12,000 to £14,000, a bit of damaged paintwork and a missing centre to the steering wheel. I wonder how much I could have knocked off, oh and a missing wing mirror, but it still had trafficators. The auction was way past Lot 52 so I’ve no idea what it went for.

A quick look at the tat in the shop before we headed out the front to await the 17:07 7A bus. We waited and waited, some road works delaying the traffic. We waited some more as did other people. We had options. Wait, get a taxi, walk back to where we’d got off the bus this morning, walk to Whittlesford Station and get a train back to Cambridge. In the end we walked to the station another 1.8 miles to add to our tally for the day. We hopped on the first bus that arrived at Cambridge station and hoped it would get us some way back to the boat, which thankfully it did. More reliability and some bus route maps around Cambridge would help along with Google giving you information about them!

It would have been Peter’s 100th birthday a couple of weeks ago, Mick wrote a post about him here if you missed it. What a great day out to remember him.

0 locks, 0 miles, 8 plus miles walked, 2 late buses, 4 planes with connections, 1 pilots seat, 1 star Jim, 3 cuppas, 1 coke, 1 flapjack, 1 millionaires flapjack, several millionaires bidding, 7 spitfire flypasts, 2 helicopters, loads of planes, 1 squash salad, 1 smoked brisket, £400,000 for a car! 1 submarine, 2 invisible 7A’s, 1 Lancaster, 1 Typhoon, 1 train, 3 buses, 1 very bored cat, 313 photos, 1 brilliant day.

Midsummers. 21st June

Clayhithe Moorings to Fort St George Moorings, Cambridge

The river was so clear this morning, all the reeds and plants intermingled with the fish below us. The sun was out again with the temperatures requiring shorts and shady hats.

We pootled our way in towards Cambridge, much of the journey we were surrounded by trees offering us some shelter. Baits Bite was to be our second lock of the week. Accompanied by a Lock Keepers hut and behind that a rather shy thatched cottage hiding behind high fencing.

By The Plough Pub in Fen Ditton there are signs asking you to keep left, this means passing boats on the wrong side. A rowing boat came round the bend ahead of us, a touch too close to the bank and old man in the pub garden shouted across to them about a painting of the Bumps at this location.

Maybe this is the one he was on about. The bend here is known as The Gut, keeping to the left is because of the difficulty in steering a 60ft rowing VIII, as the boat ahead of us had just found out.

**Wonder if these cows have better manors than those at Lechlade?**

We’d been surviving on what water we had left since filling up at Prickwillow so we gladly stopped in between the moored boats along Stourbridge Common. Here cows graze right up to the river, leaving their calling cards on the banks. Thankfully today any cowpats were dried out making stepping off to tie up easier than it would have been otherwise.

Whilst the tank filled up I had a shower hoping we still had far enough to go to heat up another tank full for Mick later on. Some bins were found nearby, including recycling which was a relief as our rubbish mountain was getting close to engulfing us.

Under Riverside Bridge where two lanes cross the river, one for pedestrians the other bikes. Past Cambridge Museum of Technology with it’s high brick chimney. Terraced houses were soon replaced with boat houses, one for each college, the river narrower than the Thames through Oxford, but still full of boats.

We kept our eyes peeled for spaces, the first one too close to a bridge and right outside a pub. Midsummer Fair was set up on Midsummer Common ready to draw in the crowds later this week, maybe we’d be better further in. Then a space with some wonderful shade, we couldn’t let that go to someone else!

Only a few poles to tie to meant the spikes came out. Mick bashed them into the ground, on the final hit the hammer flew out of his hand and straight into the river! A mental note was taken to it’s location and the Sea Searcher magnet earnt it’s keep assisted by the river clearing a touch and the handle of the hammer being bright yellow!

Despite Tilly’s protestations the doors remained shut for her. The amount of foot fall, bikes, scooters and proximity of a busy road means that sadly she won’t be exploring Cambridge.

First port of call was a visit to Heffers. Heffers was established 140 years ago and was the equivalent to Blackwells in Oxford, the university bookshop. In 1999 Blackwells bought the shop, it still retains it’s name. In a previous life I was a book and map seller at Blackwells in York, so time to have a browse was on the cards. With aircon and some birthday presents to purchase I was going to be kept busy for a while. Mick browsed from a chair near the front doors whilst I headed off to find the Crime Section. One title I was after was easy to find, another however wasn’t there. A friendly chap asked if he could help, the other title was currently being considered for reprint. He then suggested various authors that might be suitable, this was a man who knew his stock inside and out. In fact he turns out to have worked in bookselling for 40 years, 38 of them for Heffers and he is also a judge for the Golden Dagger Awards for thrillers. So I purchased a wild card paperback suggested by him, hope Andrew will enjoy it.

A couple of hours had us bimbling around the city along with many thousands of tourists. We did have a couple of aims.

The Mathematical Bridge which crosses the River Cam at Queens College. The bridge was designed by William Etheredge in 1748 and built by John Essex in1749. It spans the 50ft wide river using short lengths of timber. These short lengths of timber are held in a state of compression by the action of gravity on the whole structure, based on a voussoir bridge requiring strong abutments to balance the compressive forces created by the spring of the arch. The triangulation in the structure makes it very strong. Since it was first built it was repaired in 1866 and then rebuilt to the same design in 1904.

Below on the river the punts were in use, several with experienced guides gliding the punts along with ease showing up those having their first attempt. Just beyond Silver Street Bridge is the limit of navigation, although it is only possible to bring powered craft into The Backs between October and March with permission from the Cam Conservators, between March and October the furthest we can go is to below Jesus Lock. Today we weren’t tempted to have a go on a punt.

**At weekends they have a second shop elsewhere in the city**

Walking back through the city we headed up Bene’t Street. As soon as we’d turned the corner I could see the queue, at least thirty people standing in line. Slow decisions at the head of the queue very necessary. Jack’s Gelato will be visited before we leave, but I didn’t really want to stand around for half an hour today, so we even refrained from looking at todays flavours as that would have been torture.

The walk back to Oleanna passed numerous other University buildings and colleges, the bus station (possibly handy for tomorrow) and then across Christ’s Pieces a park filled with trees offering walkers wonderful shade. Then along and across Midsummer Common which one end was almost totally taken over by the fair, we’ll see how noisy it gets tomorrow when it opens.

1 lock, 4.96 miles, 1 full water tank, 2 clean boaters, 1 miffed cat, 1 big splash, 1 handy magnet, 1 first perusal of Cambridge, 2 long a queue, 1 list, 1 joint membership, 3 options, 1st to read the letter, 2 presents, 1 vat of bolognaise sauce.

https://goo.gl/maps/HJsuUQJGYfGUJeT19

Pumping It Up. 13th June

Padnal Fen GOBA mooring to Prickwillow EA Mooring

Around a bend and a kink of the River Lark lies Prickwillow. A water point and two EA moorings, both empty when we arrived. We pulled in at the end furthest away from the road and got both hoses out to fill up on water. We were soon joined by a narrowboat that had breasted up to us in Ely on Saturday at the services, they were heading to the same place as us, Prickwillow Drainage Engine Museum.

Housed in the old pump house the museum covers the history of the Fens, the drainage of them and as suggested by it’s name has a collection of engines that used to pump the water up from the land into the rivers.

A very enthusiastic chap greeted us at the door and took our entrance fee. He then spent time explaining about the exhibits, how to access more information on items, which way to walk round the museum and then sat us down to watch a ten minute film about the Fens and their drainage.

We heard about the Fens, stilt walking, how peat when drained can shrink the height of a man in the life time of a man, which explains how the rivers ended up being so much higher than the surrounding land. The 1947 floods. Vermuyden and his plans, sluices, redirecting rivers, the Relief Channel, the Cut Off Channel and then about the engines that worked the pumps.

Sadly the steam engines that used to do the work were all replaced by diesel engines before anyone had the idea to form a collection and then a museum. Several engines stand in the engine sheds, their green paint complimented by reds and blues. From two cylinder to four cylinder engines, the smell of ingrained oil hangs in the air.

For those who love the sound of old engines there are buttons you can press to hear them in action. On certain days of the year they have them all up and running, but sadly for us today wasn’t one of them. I suspect the place would have been a lot busier.

Collections of items fill any spare space left by the engines. Each item logged with a number that you can look up on their website. From obvious spades of all different shapes and sizes to eel catching tools. Pressure cookers to ice skates (there was even a pair that would fit your feet Frank). Mole traps, bread paddles, potato folks, psygrometer which measures relative humidity in the air but resembles a football rattle.

Then lots of photographs regarding the floods in 1947. It was these that brought about the current drainage channels all quite closely based on the plans that Vermuyden had had back in the 1650’s. People clung to the flood banks the surrounding areas covered in water. The army were brought in to help raise the flood banks, one chap in the photos the spitting image of a friend Michael who I used to work with in Scarborough.

A very informative afternoon. A well laid out museum run by enthusiastic volunteers with so much information to hand should you want it. Well worth a visit, but beware they are only open Saturdays, Sundays and Mondays.

We then had a walk around the village. We’d spotted the church as we’d pulled in. The grounds were very over grown, lights were on inside and a car parked beside it. Should we look in through the open door, was it now a private house? I sneaked a photo of what looked like a figure, it turned out to be what looked like a set of armour, home made leaning against the wall. After hunting round on the internet I found an article regarding St Peter’s Church. It was bought by a couple two years ago to be turned into an arts centre/studio space with two apartments in the north and south transepts. I suspect there is still a LOT of work to be done.

**Plenty of shelves with not much on them**

Further along the road is a house set back which is totally engulfed in ivy apart from it’s wheelie bin. The old school house, a Baptist church which is currently under offer to be converted into a house. On the parish notice board there were invites to a wine and book club, a plant and seed swap in the village phone box. We peeked in to see what might be on offer in the phone box only to find two dried out twigs!

A long overdue catch up with the London Leckenbys was had during the afternoon, Josh is in the thick of his GCSE’s, Andrew is busy with work and Jac was full of her recent trip back to Melbourne to see her family.

0 locks, 1.5 miles, 1 load washing, 1 full water tank, 1 mardy cat, 1 museum, 8 big engines, 36786 exhibits, 1 Michael, 1 transgender Einstein, 2 repurposed churches, 2 twigs, 2 more weeks of exams.

Hammer And Tongs. 10th June

Jubilee Gardens, Ely

Thankfully we didn’t have a shouting cat this morning demanding to go out. Tilly had managed with this outside, but wasn’t overly impressed. We took advantage of this and headed out to explore for ourselves and hopefully come back impressed.

Where else could we go other than the cathedral.

We walked up through Jubilee Gardens, climbed up Cherry Hill Park past where the castle once had stood. Surrounded by King’s School buildings we walked up to the South transept of the cathedral then followed the paths anti-clockwise round the cathedral to the west door where we could enter.

Stood in the nave was a replica of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation dress. This had been commissioned for her diamond jubilee by Harrods and was used in the filming of The Crown. Bejewelled, embroidered in gold and silver thread by a team of costume specialist makers it took 4 months to make. A rather stunning job they did of it too.

The first monastery was founded by the Saxon Queen Etheldreda in 673, followed by a Benedictine monastery in 970 which was the second wealthiest in the country. It stood high on the hill , the Island of the Eels.

**Looking down the Nave from the choir**

The Norman building was started in 1081 and became a cathedral in 1109 where the remains of Etheldreda lay. Pilgrims flocked to her tomb which necessitated the building to be extended adding the presbytery in 1252.

Cracks began to show around the structure of the central tower, the monks moved their services outdoors. On the 13th February 1322 just after a 4am service the Norman central tower collapsed. It is thought that water had undermined the foundations of the tower which had been caused by the building of the Lady Chapel.

Work began to rebuild the tower, redesigned by Alan de Walsingham. Firmer foundations were found further out than the original ones and the idea of building the Octagon came about. The width, at 74ft, was too wide to support a stone vault, so it was built from timber, glass and lead all standing on eight massive pillars. It took 18 years to build with an internal height of 142 ft.

At the centre is a painted wooden carving of Christ surrounded by fan vaulting, this is followed by stained glass windows, below that painted angels followed by more fan vaulting. You just have to take a seat and stare upwards. There are tours up the Octagon, but sadly they have to be booked in advance and would have upped our entry price again.

1349 the lady Chapel was completed, the largest in the country. Originally it was richly adorned with statues of saints, bright paintwork and tall stained glass windows. But in 1541 came the dissolution of the monastery’s, windows were smashed, all but one sculpture were defaced, chipped away or removed completely.

**Red roses on the ceiling, why so uneven?**

In 1566 the chapel became Holy Trinity Church the parish church for Ely. The walls were white washed and the windows filled with plain glass, which is more or less how it looks today. A small amount of colour remains on the stone work by the alter and roses on the ceiling, but this is upstaged by a sculpture of the Virgin Mary made by David Wynne. A modern figure of a woman dressed in azure blue. The chapel was handed back to the cathedral in 1938, but it was cold and dark in the winter months. Restoration works in the 1990’s changed this, today when we walked in the chapel was decidedly warm, it’s now used for services and concerts.

The north side of the nave is currently the home for A Table for the Nation. At 13m long by 1.5m wide it has been made from a 5000 year old giant sub-fossilised black, or bog, oak tree which was found in 2012 near Downham Market. It has taken ten years to make. First the tree was cut into planks which then had to be dried out over 9 months removing 400 gallons of water and shrinking in depth by 50%. We had first seen it on the local news when it had been positioned under the Octagon and was turned round. Today it sits in what feels like a corridor, information panels alongside and big bright lights blasting into it’s black grain. It feels a touch side lined and is almost impossible to photograph.

**Can’t forget the organ, present case by Sir Gilbert Scott**

Our tickets included a visit to the Stained Glass Museum which was well worth a visit.

**Hammer and Tongs c1920 by Karl Parsons**

Up the stairs in the West Transept the museum fills one side of the balcony of the nave. Examples of stained glass through the centuries are displayed all back lit, showing the techniques that were developed.

From black or brown painted on lines, paintwork scratched through for extra details. Yellow stains applied to the back of the glass to enamel pigments that came in in the 1500s. Leading and solder that hold all the glass together keeping out the weather. Add into the mix coloured glass. Square bottles of glass that were cut into their four sides. Patterns added onto the surface and details added.

Portraits created in glass following the styles of artist of the times. The Victorians drew on the pageantry of the Middle Ages, Burne-Jones influenced greatly by the Italian Renaissance.

Several 1:6 scale models show how stained glass is made. Small details in the models, receipts from the renowned Alec Tiranti, a large box of Wuffomeat and the jumper a lady wears knitted on what must have been tiny needles.

Modern windows are shown too. Some more to our taste than others, I think we prefer colour to the darker windows where lead or black paint take over.

**Just why was the North West Transept dismantled?**

A very interesting afternoon, although it would have been fascinating to see what lay in storage covered in decades of dust on the opposite balcony.

Tilly was given some shore leave when we got back. She still wasn’t that impressed with Ely! Thank goodness we’d enjoyed our day.

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 collapsed tower, 1 removed transept (why does no-one mention that, including me?), 8 sides of wonder, 1 very blue lady, 1 hammer, 1 tong, 1 replica dress, 5000 year old wood table, 1 corridor, 1 disappointing font, 1 slice of pizza dropped from heaven.

Are the captions better Dan?

The Boats We’ve Yet To Meet. 9th June

Ten Mile Bank GOBA mooring to Jubilee Gardens, Ely

The curtains on the porthole in the bedroom were pushed aside this morning so that we could spy for any passing boats as we had our cuppa in bed. NB Eleanor pushed off from behind us and I think a cruiser also came past. As we had breakfast, rolled up the covers we kept an eye open for a boat we’ve yet to meet, but there was still no sign. We needed to get moving to secure a mooring in Ely. Our paths, with the yet to meet boat, will cross at some point.

Today was still windy, is it always so down here on the flat lands? Another blue and green day.

We passed WB Karma, biped our horn, but no one was about, Klaud or Kato had been left in charge of the wheelhouse, a head bobbing up to see who was disturbing his snooze.

We passed the sad house, the last pylon in a line, the closed moorings at Littleport where the ducks, moles and weeds are enjoying themselves with no boaters around to disturb them.

Then the long straight sections towards Ely, the occasional slight bend and the turn off to the River Lark. Onwards. We were gradually catching up with a boat ahead who were overtaken by rowers. Then it was time to seek out a mooring.

Where we’d been before was chocka, but further along nearer the bars there were a few spaces. We pulled in at the bottom of Jubilee Gardens, hopefully here would be far enough away from any cars for Tilly to possibly have some shore leave.

Maybe there? Avoiding the trip boat mooring of course

The overhang on the mooring meant deploying the fat fender and a wheel to save the cabin side. The boat behind us was nicely wedged under the edge! The doors were opened and we waited to see what Tilly made of it.

She stood, had a look this way and that, then scurried through a gap in the passing legs to find some sideways trees to lurk around. We wondered if she’d ever make it back for us to be able to go out this evening, but thankfully she succeeded requesting to have her evening ding ding early!

Our evening ding ding, not bad for a gluten free fish

Around 6pm there was a tap on the roof, Heather Bleasdale. She’d been up to see her, new to her boat that is having work done to it further upstream. Chats over a cuppa on board were followed by fish and chips at RBK. The fish was very large and the chips exceedingly hot. We whiled away a few hours catching up on news and comparing notes of our travels. Hopefully her new boat will be back on the water soon and we might meet up somewhere.

0 locks, 10.64 miles, 1 straight, 0 boat rendez vous, 1 slow jam pot boat, 2 hours dashing between legs, 1 overhung mooring, 3 splats already! 1 wave to Stewart, 2 of each, 1 burger, 1 big catch up, 8 years ago we left Crick as The Wasp with Blackbird and our boating blog commenced.

https://goo.gl/maps/vKKoSwxiWrzd7z388

What A Relief! 3rd June

Denver EA Mooring to Wiggenhall St Mary Magdalen EA Mooring

It felt like a Sunday today, so with not much in the fridge except mushrooms Mick cooked them up and we had them on a couple of slices of toast for breakfast. Then it was time to move on, we couldn’t dally as we needed to find a suitable mooring.

Around Denver there are all sorts of structures, sluices here there and everywhere. We headed over to the east towards the Relief Channel Lock. Here two sets of pointing gates drop you down onto the Relief Channel, the lock is fully automated, despite the instructions suggesting you need a windlass.

Time for the Abloy Key of Power, our key ring is getting a touch full. A boat had just gone down the lock, so the bottom gates needed closing then the lock filling for us to enter. This lock is a slow filler, thank goodness you don’t have to keep your finger on the button! It is also a slow emptier the slackers/paddles only moving by about foot, so you have to be patient as your boat slowly drops the 2meters. It was nice to be changing height again, but I have to say I miss working locks.

Vermuyden back in the 1640’s, proposed works to help relieve the Ely Ouse of extra water, but it wasn’t until 1964 that the Relief Channel and Cut Off Channel were constructed. The Cut Off Channel diverts waters away from the Rivers Wissey, Little Ouse and Lark in times of flood by partially closing the rivers. The extra water runs towards Denver where the Impounding Sluice joins it to the Relief Channel, taking the waters 11 miles further downstream before it joins the Tidal Great Ouse near Kings Lynn.

Turning below the lock, Cut Off Channel behind

In 2001 the lock connecting the channel to the River Great Ouse, above Denver, was constructed and three sets of visitor moorings added.

The Channel is wide, deep and fairly straight. Today it was windy out there. Swans took off in front of us hoping to loose us, only to find we’d catch them up again, necessitating another take off, time and time again, until they either diverted their route to behind us or over towards the tidal river.

The first mooring at Downham Market is long, able to hold quite a few boats. Today it was very full, good job we’d not been wanting to stop there today. Our guide book suggests that there is more to the town than just Haygates flour mill, which sits alongside the channel. The town used to be renowned for it’s butter market, moving large quantities up to Cambridge on the river.

The next mooring follows at Stowbridge close to a pub. Today two narrowboats filled the pontoon busy with boat chores, everyone waved as we waved back. Another half hour north we passed under a footbridge where a canoeist lolled with his back to us, we moved over so as not to disturb him.

Then the next and final pontoon at Wiggenhall St Marys Magdalen came into view. There was the cruiser I’d seen at the lock and what looked like a narrowboat, would there be space for us? As we got closer we could see there were two narrowboats breasted up. To our relief a lady came dashing down the ramp and untied the inner narrowboat and starting to pull it back towards the cruiser making space for us. The wind didn’t help us moor as the bow kept being pushed towards the bank which in turn pushed the stern out, but we got there in the end, Oleanna’s bow over hanging the pontoon.

The lady from the breasted up pair was very chatty, offered us a lift to the pub tonight and introduced us to Freddie her Irish Terrier. He wanted to come and say hello, but immediately got distracted by a scent, Tilly! Blimey Tilly smelt soo good, he was all over Oleanna as Tilly watched on from the Houdini shelf. She had been hoping that the friendly cover could be explored, but being on a pontoon the health and safety committee had already made their decision. Now with Freddie sniffing the air at the open window where Tilly sat, only an inch or two away, their decision was reinforced!

It took Freddie quite a while to actually be able to see Tilly through the glass. At that moment their noses were less than an inch apart with a sheet of glass thankfully between them, Tilly now three times her normal size! Freddie was immediately put back on a lead and taken inside his boat.

Finishing touches, including some clamping

Summer clothes were retrieved from under the bed a smart shirt brought out to be washed. Winter clothing was not fully stowed away, but that will need to happen before I start on my panto model as my clothes cupboard is where I store it away from feline jaws. Then it was time to finish off my project. Fittings, securing, wires twisted, glue applied, foam added for comfort and a final fitting. All was finished and ready.

Relief Channel on the left, Tidal River Great Ouse right

Time for a walk over Magdalen Bridge which crosses the Tidal River Great Ouse, the tide was out. Down stream of here lies Kings Lynn and then The Wash, which if crossed with the aid of a pilot would take us to Boston and then further north on the River Witham. That trip will be for another time.

The village was covered in bunting as to be expected. The church sitting proudly in the centre. A fish and chip shop round the next corner smelt good, but I returned up Prophets Lane which led to the river bank and back across the bridge to Oleanna where there would have been just enough room for another boat to breast up alongside us.

A couple of weeks ago I asked if the Middle Level was as low as we could get on the network. A few days later Paul from Waterway Routes replied with this answer.

The Middle Levels between Ashline and Marmont Priory Locks is maintained at 35cm below Ordnance Datum (approximately seal level), although the level will vary a little after rain etc. The Relief Channel summer level is approximately 98cm below Ordnance Datum (sea level), although this level isn’t maintained particularly accurately so you could be more than a metre below sea level at times.

So we are now the lowest we can be, below sea level!

1 lock, 6.9 miles, 1 right, 1 left, 3 moorings, 2 boats pulled back, 1 Freddie, 3 times bigger, 1 last mooring space, 2 relieved boaters, 2 fixings, 2 fittings, 1 project complete, 1 fridge just about empty.

https://goo.gl/maps/7VBmus1JwhtJFSyM9

Peter Geraghty. 3rd June 1922 – 13th September 2002

Hello all. Mick here today writing this one.

My father Peter Geraghty was born 100 years ago. Today would have been his 100th birthday, I think we would have had a party!

Born in Hull in the East Riding of Yorkshire. His mother was Olive Geraghty (nee Wright) and his father Tom Geraghty. His father, after serving as an officer in the East Riding Regiment during WWI, was a journalist for the Hull Daily Mail and he ended up as Editor. Olive, as was the norm for the time, looked after the family and home. Peter had an older sister Joan and a younger brother Mark.

Peter went to school in Hull at the St Charles Borromeo School and often told us stories from his childhood of him turning up to school without any shoes or socks! I’m not sure of the accuracy of this and think it was probably his sense of humour coming through.

Before WWII the family moved from Hull to the village of Hessle just to the west of the city. They lived on Boothferry Road next door to the Darley’s Arms. At 17, Peter started work in the office of the Hull firm Spillers, known to all as Spillers the Millers (now part of the Rank Hovis group whose logo is “Rank Hovis the Millers” which doesn’t have quite the same ring to it!). He was working here when war broke out in 1939. The office was moved out to Ferriby where it was considered a safer place to be than in the city centre.

Joan, Tom, Peter, Olive and Mark at the back door of 314 Boothferry Road

At age 18 in 1940, he volunteered for service in the RAF. He had to go to Lords cricket ground in London to sign up and so his flying career started. He did some of his training in North America and on completion was assigned to Bomber Command. After various roles he became a Flight Lieutenant at RAF Pocklington in East Yorkshire flying Halifax bombers. After a tour of 40 operations from Pocklington, he carried out further flying duties training pilots on Lancasters.

On the back. The sensor must have let it through.

Captain and crew at RAF Pocklington. PG in the centre

When the war ended he was demobbed and went back to Hessle. A company was obliged to employ people that had worked for them before the war but Peter was very sure that an office life with Spillers in Hull was not for him and he declined the guaranteed offer of employment. Instead he applied for a job as a pilot with the fledgling British European Airways (BEA). This would mean being based at Northolt airport on the outskirts of London.

For a long time he had been “seeing” Ruth Chignell, also from Hessle and when the war finished he proposed, the proposal was accepted. They were married in May 1947 and with his new job they moved to a house near Northolt Airport.

His flying job meant irregular hours and sometimes being away from home overnight. However BEA only flew to Europe so he was never away long. I suspect this is why he chose BEA rather than the long-haul BOAC. Their first child Christine was born in 1948 followed by Marion in 1950 and Anne in 1952.

They needed a bigger house so moved to Ealing in 1952. Ealing was chosen as a new primary school St Gregory’s was being built there which was thought to be a “very good school”. It also coincided with BEA moving their operation to London Airport, now known as Heathrow.

I came along in 1958 and my younger sister Kathryn in 1966. All us children went to St Gregory’s and my mother ended up being a Governor. Peter was always a family man, every Saturday morning, if he wasn’t working, he would take all of us children to the local library in Ealing to swap books, followed by hot chocolate and a biscuit in a café on the High Street. And if his flying roster allowed every Sunday morning after church we would go to Kew Gardens (I remember it costing 1d) and back home in time for Sunday Lunch. There were often visits to the museums in South Kensington, my favourite being the Science Museum but sometimes my sisters made us go to one of the others!

Another favourite outing of mine was a visit to the cricket. Often he would take me up to Lords to watch the final session of a Middlesex game, as an MCC member there was free entry. We would sometimes go to a Saturday of the Lords Test Match which was a great day out. He also used to play cricket for Northolt Cricket Club.

We lived a couple of miles from the Hanwell flight on the Grand Union. A regular walk was to visit what we called “The Six Locks”. Working narrowboats were still in operation (mid 1960s) some of them towed by little towpath tractors. I vividly remember one occasion when we had gongoozled a pair of boats down the flight. At the bottom one of the boaters asked if we wanted a ride to Brentford? Well you can imagine a 7 year old’s excitement at this prospect. But my dad came over all practical and said we had to get home in time for tea! But the seed of interest in canals and boating had been planted. It was about 50 years later that we first took our own boat down the flight and carried on to Brentford.

As I grew older Dad would sometimes, during school holidays, take me to work. We would drive into Heathrow and go into the BEA crew room office. I’d be shown the preparations for flying off somewhere, weather charts, route maps, loading weights, how much fuel to have on board etc.

I would then head off on my own to the spectator viewing area (a thing of the past now) and with my VHF air band radio tuned to the ground or tower frequencies I’d watch him take off. If he wasn’t going far (maybe a return trip to Paris) I would wait 2 or 3 hours for him to return then meet him at the car park and get a lift home. If he was going further afield (perhaps a “night stop” Nicosia) I would stay watching aeroplanes all day and then get the bus home.

As a family we would sometimes, but not very often, fly off on foreign holidays. I remember one time we all flew to Germany for a family holiday. When the plane was sitting on the runway preparing for take off our Dad (a Captain with the airline who had indeed captained this very aircraft many times) leant across the aisle and shook all his children by the hand and said “Well, it’s been nice knowing you all”. His sense of humour.

His career with BEA lasted from 1946 until his retirement in 1977, by which time BEA and BOAC had merged to form British Airways. It was policy then that pilots had to retire at 55, it may still be the case. He started off flying DC3s and Vickers Vikings for BEA, then the Airspeed Ambassador (known in BEA as the Elizabethan because the Queen had just come to the throne!), followed by Vickers Viscounts and Vanguards and ending up as a senior training Captain on the Hawker Siddeley Trident.

His family back in Hull had always been staunch Catholics and Peter was the same. He played a big part in the local parish community at Ealing Abbey, always organising things, on various parish committees and for a while was chairman of the Parish Centre. He also played a big part in the running of the parish Youth Club. His religion didn’t get passed on to me though. I think I rebelled at all the religion in my childhood.

In retirement he had more time for his beloved golf, at one time getting his handicap down to single figures. He played at West Middlesex Golf Club then Ealing Golf Club. He left Ealing GC when they introduced a rule that you had to spend a certain amount of money in the bar per year and if you didn’t they would take the money anyway! He wanted to play golf not drink in the bar.

My mother finally persuaded him that they could make use of the concessionary travel that British Airways allowed him. But he never travelled extensively for leisure. He was a big worrier and there would have been too much worry that as staff passengers they would be the first to be off loaded should the flight become full.

There was also football to be watched and supported. Hull City as a youngster but on moving to West London it was Queens Park Rangers, holding a season ticket there once he retired.

Peter and Christine on their way to Wembley to watch QPR

In his later life he fell ill with Parkinson’s disease, a disease which was also to affect my mother. He accepted his illness stoically for a number of years but eventually in September 2002 he suffered a stroke and passed away. A big funeral was held at Ealing Abbey with many old family friends there. British Airways sent a representative to his funeral which I thought was a lovely thing for them to do.

Happy 100th birthday Dad. Shame we are not celebrating it with you but you can be sure that we are definitely celebrating!

Thank you to John and Kath for helping collect together all the photographs.

The 4th Point. 30th May

Brandon Lock EA Mooring to New Fen GOBA Mooring

The cruiser that went up through the lock yesterday returned, we think they must have been to the end of the navigable Little Ouse to moor overnight, somewhere we can’t go. After breakfast Tilly came back when called so that we could head out to have a look around Brandon and see if I could find some filler for my project.

We walked upstream along the river to where Brandon Bridge crosses, passing a short narrowboat on it’s home mooring and a winding hole long enough for 40ft boats. Up alongside the busy road was our first view of flint used a lot in the building of houses round here. Today we’d see lots more of it.

Brandon is the flint capital of the Brecks. The town has had connections to the mineral for centuries, from flint axe heads to gunflint. Since the Neolithic period flint has been mined in the area, Grime’s Graves, a few miles out of town, is a prehistoric mine dating back to 2800BC. Brandon’s mines and flint knapping trades meant that it was the first choice by the British Army to supply gunflints during the Napoleonic War and in the 1790’s they produced over one million flints a month.

On the north bank of the river there is the station and the Suffolk Norfolk border. Here large coaching houses sit opposite each other, it was obviously change over day as people walked along the footpath with large bags of laundry. A quick visit to Aldi came up trumps on the filler front, they also had beetroot so our weeks menu has reverted back to include risotto.

A typical High Street took us away from the the river, large houses sitting next to small terraces. More and more buildings showing off the local flint. Even what must have been the Post Office at one time displayed fractured squares.

The more corners we turned the more flint we’d see even flint cobbles along the side of the road.

Time for an early lunch before we’d head for the lock. As we sat eating two chaps arrived, lawnmower and strimmer to cut round the mooring and lock. After they’d cut along the mooring, one of them returned with a leaf blower removing any grassy residue from Oleanna’s cabin side. The chap then caught Mick’s attention.

He’d come to warn us about the depth just in front of us. Last time they were at the lock there was a narrowboat who tried to wind, he’d put his bow in towards the slipway and turned, his stern getting very well and truly stuck in the silt. The EA chaps ended up having to assist him. The chap said we should have a good look to see where the shallow bits were as it was quite shallow towards the entrance for the lock. We’d done a recky yesterday, the clear water helpful to see the sandy silt below and just how shallow it was in parts.

Mick chatted to the chap saying we were hoping to be able to get our bow into the lock, this being the furthest east on the connected network we’d be able to take Oleanna. A photo for the scrap book and the final point (East) ticked off the navigable compass for her. He seemed to think we’d manage it, maybe he was just humouring us! If we ended up in difficulty they would be around for another hour and could lend a hand. If we ended up getting well and truly stuck they would be able to open up the sluice to help flush us out, but they’d need to seek authority to do that first.

It couldn’t be that shallow, surly!

I pushed off the bow and walked up to the sluice to take photos of Oleanna not fitting in the lock whilst Mick positioned her to turn towards it. The sandbank reaches out quite a long way, so cutting the corner wouldn’t work, an almost 90 degree turn then another were needed. Mick tried and tried. Oleanna’s length and depth just wouldn’t get past the sandbank on the bend, the current from the sluice not assisting in our aim. Just getting back to where we’d started from took some doing! Photo opportunity had to be aborted, we would simply not get to the lock and back out again.

I was picked up from the mooring. Our guide book suggests leaving your stern rope attached to a bollard on the mooring and then letting the current swing your bow round to wind. But the shallowness and width of the river didn’t look good, we were certain it would not be sufficient to let us turn.

The furthest facing east we were going to get

Mick headed towards the sluice, this would be the furthest east we’d get Oleanna, so at least that ambition could be ticked off as it was the furthest east it was possible to get her.

He turned the bow towards the lock, reversing back, the current pushed the bow round so far. After some toing and froing, giving the engine some wellie we found ourselves facing the opposite direction. Phew! The only problem was we were stuck, sitting on the bottom!

I headed to the bow, moving weight sometimes helps in such situations. I rocked from side to side a touch. The bow moved, but the stern was held fast. Behind us the river seemed to get shallower and we were too far over towards the lock where it was also too shallow. Blasts of forwards and reverse, no use.

The barge pole was retrieved from the roof. Mick tried pushing the stern out back into what we hoped would be deeper water. I could see an inch or two of movement, or was that just the bow moving round a touch. Every now and then the EA chap looked up from his grass cutting, he’d seen we’d winded and gave us a thumbs up, little did he know we wouldn’t be going anywhere soon!

Then the stern started to move, we reversed back into slightly deeper water. Mick engaged forward gear and pushed the tiller over to get the bow clear of the sandbank. But at the bow I could see this was pointless as we’d be on the bank again. We really needed to go further back, just by another couple of feet to be able to swing and get ourselves free. I shouted back to him. Back into reverse, as soon as the bow would clear of the sandbank I gave him the thumbs up. We had just enough water beneath Oleanna to make the move and swung back into the narrow channel.

Thank ****** for that! We really didn’t want to have the EA chaps open a sluice up for us or be stuck at the most eastern point on the network we could get Oleanna to!

The EA chap now waved and gave us a big thumbs up as we started to make our way back west again. If it gets dredged we’d possibly like to try again, but today nature just stopped us.

Our return trip was grey and rainy. We hoped we’d be okay for a night back at the GOBA New Fen mooring, it’s one of those places where you shouldn’t return within 48 hours, but we were returning from the end, anyhow there’d only been one other boat moored there.

Recently sheered sheep ran ahead of us. Cows stood up to give us the once over and a peddleo was about to be craned into the water at the nice house. Numerous birds swooped and chatted away around us and the dart of a Kingfisher kept us on our toes.

As we rounded the last bend to the moorings we could see boats. Three stretching out along the uneven edge. We pulled in after a hallow section, we were more prepared this time with spikes already in hands. The stern was tied up first, then the bow, followed by the plank being put into action.

Three hours Tilly! She was happy with this new outside!

I got on with thinning down some filler and so far it’s done the job I was hoping it would do. It just needs to dry over night before it gets sanded. Then I’ll see if it will need another coat, before some paint and a touch more detailing is applied.

The temperature dropped again at 6pm so the stove was lit for another evening and Tilly’s shore leave was curtailed by half an hour, well our toes were getting mightily cold with a door open!

0 locks, 0 bow in lock, 5.92 miles, 40 minute wind, 4th compass point ticked off, 2 outsides, 1 flint capital, 1 tube of filler, 1 project filled, 1 bunch beetroot, 1 cosy boat.