Category Archives: River Trent

Hanging On For Green. 10th September

Kiln Pontoon to Cromwell Lock Pontoon

The Geraghty zoom included topics such as Department stores, Post Holes and just what they might be, Soprano frocks and the E3 bus route. During the zoom we got a wiff of whatever from outside that we’ve smelt the last two evenings. Mick decided that he should check our lead acid batteries just incase one had started gasing. We have a starter battery, which was fine, and two bow thruster batteries, which were also fine. The pong had to be coming from elsewhere.

Next was a trip to stock up on more essential food stuff to cover us for the next few days. Waitrose was visited and we managed to come away with two bags for under £30, a far more considered shop than yesterday!

With everything stowed it was time to move on downstream. A phone call had been made to Kings Marina to see if we could top up the diesel tank, but a message suggested that the lady who runs the marina was away, we’d not be calling in. Instead we carried on past the entrance. Mick radioed ahead to Nether Lock, there was a boat going down and one to come up, we were to come in on the green.

However the green was quite a wait. Whilst holding onto the centre line we had time to watch the people working on the railway tracks that cross just above the lock. I spent quite a bit of time admiring the size of each spider that inhabited each recess of the big piling we were clinging to. The biggest spider was around the size of a 50p piece.

Eventually a boat appeared and the lock lights turned green. Nether Lock the last couple of times we’ve been through on self serve has taken forever! Hopefully with a Lock Keeper present it wouldn’t take as long. The bottom paddles were whipped up in one go, rather than incrementally on self serve, we were down in a jiffy.

Fishermen lined the banks, just how do they get their cars by the fishing pegs? The pub at North Muskham was popular with people sat at the tables, only one cruiser moored up.

I glanced to the side of Oleanna, hanging in the air as if it was a Hummingbird was a Kingfisher. I grabbed my camera, not the best photo, but it looked straight at me before glancing back at the river. Then it darted ahead and dived catching a fish, then zoomed back to a perch to enjoy it’s fishy snack.

Soon the pontoon mooring at Cromwell came into sight. Two boats on the outside, definitely one on the inside, would the other inside be free. Thankfully it was, meaning we’d be by a tap and possibly have electric for the night. We winded and then made our way onto the inside, across the pontoon from us NB Preaux, we’d be heading onto the Tidal Trent with them in the morning.

**The pontoon, easier to moor on than the wall**

Mick called the Lockie Neil to check there were copies of the new Trent charts available, there were but he’d have to be quick as he was only on duty for another hour. The new version (18) was checked over. A few noticeable changes, one in our opinion not as good as our old version 13. The first page from Cromwell looks to have been copied and shrunk slightly from a previous version. I checked the red line, the line to keep to, it didn’t look to have changed, I added the old page into the new book.

Other details missing were at Dunham Dubbs. Here is where boats have had problems as they turn the bend. Just keeping to underneath the pylon wires at certain times of the tide isn’t enough so extra markers have been added on the banks. These haven’t made it to the latest version of the charts. We printed the chart off from facebook and added that in too.

A delve into the cat proof cupboard came up trumps with three CRT electric cards, Mick tried one in the post by Oleanna. 19 credits left, bingo we had power! A couple of loads of washing and the use of the electric kettle, all paid for years ago.

We’d just said hello to our Trent buddies when the skies opened, thunder rolling around above us. We’d hopefully have chance to chat more in the morning. Originally when Mick had booked our passage he’d been told that high tide would be around 9:24, we were booked for 8:00 but may not get away before 8:30. This might mean the tide would be too low by the time we reached Torksey to get over the cill. However Neil the Lockie today said he’d be around from 7:30 the green light would likely to go on around 7:45, the sooner we got going the better chance of getting in at Torksey.

Early night for us then.

1 lock, 5 miles, 3 batteries fine, 1 suspect boat, 1 hobble shopping trip, 2nd very hot day, 1 long wait, 1 space on the inside, 1 bored cat, 1 alarm set.

https://goo.gl/maps/9btNZ7r1zWvApVtU9

Firstly I’m NOT Your Babe! 9th September

Kiln Pontoon

Last night a couple of odd things happened.

The pontoon was quite busy with comings and goings. A bike or maybe a shopping trolley came past a couple of times, the noise of wheels on the ramp very recognisable. Then soon afterwards there was a very strong stink of sewage. Blimey it stank! Where was it coming from? Mick stuck his head out of the hatch and could see a cassette being passed onto a boat. Could this have been the source of the stink? No proof, possibly just a coincidence. Thankfully the aroma passed after half an hour or so.

Then whilst reading in bed I kept hearing what sounded like small quiet wheels on the ramp, maybe someone was being considerate as they passed us. I twitched the curtains. There was a chap stood quite close to Oleanna. I opened the curtains some more, he looked up and down the pontoon and said, ‘Oh sorry I’ve got the wrong boat’. I closed the curtains.

A while later around midnight, I heard the noise again. I really wanted to be able to see without opening the curtains. Tilly assisted, a cat can get away with being very nosy. Once she’d got bored of being a voyeur she, as always, left the curtains ajar. The chap was stood just three feet away from our window. If he was peeking in I could certainly peek out! I opened the curtains wide.

‘Ah Babe … does it cost to be here?’

‘Firstly I’m NOT your Babe! What are you doing?’ He said something about looking for somewhere in the morning, well only quarter of an hour ago he’d got the wrong boat! ‘Well it’s full as you can see and I’d like you to move away from our boat!’. He turned, I said ‘Goodnight!’, he replied ‘Goodnight’ as he started to walk up the ramp. By the time Mick had opened up the hatch there was no sign of the chap anywhere, hopefully he’d gone.

Tilly and I stayed awake for sometime, trying to make a mental note of what the chap looked like, listening out for anymore noises on the ramp. Thankfully we eventually both went to sleep.

The small cruiser in front of us had been showing interest in heading to Lincoln, they hadn’t realised that you need to book Cromwell and Torksey Locks in advance. Current manning of such locks is based on bookings and if there is no-one in the book for a certain day there may be no-one on duty to penn you through. We also suggested that they should have an up to date chart, parts of the river are very shallow and just sticking to the middle doesn’t always work. They had a very old Nicholsons. This morning they’d rung Cromwell and been told they could go anytime, the tide was so weak at the moment it wouldn’t make a difference. Off they set. Mick pulled us forward so that we no longer overhung the pontoon.

A newspaper and a touch of shopping was required, also some shore leave for me to access how my toe was holding up. It was already rather hot outside, inside Waitrose was wonderfully cool. We picked up a paper and scanned round the sad git items for a cold collection this evening. It ended up being quite a financial outlay, but we’ll have yummy things for the next few evenings and not have to turn the cooker on.

After lunch Mick set off to Newark Castle Station to catch a train back towards Nottingham. Time to look round the signal box at Lowdham Station. The chap from Lowdham Railway Heritage started with a bit of a history of signalling on the railway. In early early days the signaller would time how long it was since the previous train had passed. The next train could be let past at slow speed after 5 minutes had elapsed or at full speed after 10. This was fine as long as the train in front never broke down but if it stopped for any reason a following train would plough into it. Not good. So signals were invented making use of electrical connections down telegraph wires alongside the track to the next and previous signal boxes. This enabled the signalers to communicate via a series of bell codes to see if the line was clear or not and set their signals and points accordingly.

There followed a demonstration with one chap working the signal box another two pretending to be at other boxes along the line. A delayed coal train had to be shunted out of the way to let an express passenger train through. There was also a goods train to be shunted into sidings, a train stopping at Lowdham station to be dealt with and level crossing gates to be opened and closed as necessary. All very busy. The signaler got a little bit lost at one point but the other two knew what should be happening so kept him on track.

An enjoyable but hot afternoon.

Back on Oleanna the day got hotter. The fan from last year had been plugged in meaning Tilly had to take diversions along the back of the sofa to get past it, fans are scary things! Curtains were kept drawn on the sunny side of the boat and when the sun had moved over to catch the port side I damped one of Tilly’s towels and hung it over the mesh in the side hatch hoping to cool any breeze that came in.

This afternoons viewing was a Denzil Washington film, Flight (2012), where Denzil is a pilot who turns up for work still drunk from the night before and high on coke. He somehow manages to crash land the plane after mechanical failure saving nearly everyone on board. The investigation that follows shows him in a different light to the hero he is hailed as.

This evening at around 9pm the aroma from last night returned, not quite as pungent but it lingered for much longer. No signs of anyone doing anything with cassettes today.

0 locks, 0 miles, 2 trains, 1 walk to Waitrose, 2nd pair socks finished, 52 sts not 48, 1 wonky heel to be pulled out, 1 very hot day inside, 1 prowler, 1 stinky stink.

Caught Or Catch? 8th September

Hazelford Lock to Kiln Pontoon, Newark

No shore leave for the thug this morning, we’d be moving on. Frothy bergs from the weir passed us as we made ready to move off into the misty morning. It was a touch gloomy out there, but at least it was cool.

The Bromley is used as a landmark on the river to radio ahead to Hazelford Lock, today the moorings were empty, the pub sadly closed. We carried on downstream, the banks peppered with fishermen.

The mooring at Farndon was empty, but it would sit in full sunlight once the mist had burnt through, we also wanted to be closer to Newark.

Rounding a bend Mick suddenly put Oleanna into reverse. ‘Fisherman!’ The chap on the bank quickly scurried about lifting his line. He’d caught us. Mick put us into reverse, the thick red line spanned down the cabin side. The chap dropped his rod, he must have cut the line, he busied himself on the bank.

We now had a long length of tough fishing line trailing. We drifted as Mick pulled in the line, thankfully the current wasn’t too strong as we were quite near the weir by the power station. Meters and meters of line were pulled up, no longer a potential problem getting wrapped round the prop or shaft.

The lure however seemed to now want to be on the move, so the line needed tethering somehow. It got wrapped around the pram hood frame a few times with several knots to stop it from slipping. We’d investigate later to see what we’d caught.

Now we could see the Parish Church ahead. Should we stop at Newark Marina for diesel and an up to date chart of the Tidal Trent. I’d asked on the Trentlink Facebook group about the latest edition of the charts, version 18. There have recently been a few amendments and new markers added by volunteers to assist boats around shallow areas that have been catching boats out. We bought our current charts 8 years ago, so they are well used and are now due for retirement. Sadly the diesel point at the marina was not free, we carried on carving our way through the millions of Geese.

Heathers mooring was free, in full sun but may get shade later in the afternoon. However I’d have difficulty getting off due to the high bank. We kept it in reserve.

Town Lock was being set for us as we arrived, we dropped down with the castle just ahead of us. What we really could do with would be a mooring on the east bank, maybe just below the castle, but none are to be had on that side of the river where tall buildings create shade. The wall opposite had several boats already moored up, space but the wall too high for me again. We carried on fingers crossed for a space on Kiln Pontoon.

There was maybe just enough room for us on the very end, if we overhung by a bit. Or should we carry on and see if Kings Marina might have a space for us. Level access appealing. We reversed up to see if the pontoon would be possible, it was, phew!

Once we were settled it was time to see what events this weekend we might be able to make the most of. This and into next weekend there are Heritage Open Days. We’d made a list of possibles last week, most of the ones I’d fancied involved walking tours, so they were out. One Mick fancied was a tour of Lowdham Signal Box which was built in 1896 and for 120 years controlled trains on the Nottingham to Lincoln line. It was taken out of service following the resignalling in 2016, and has been moved and preserved, and is now fitted out with period Midland Railway signalling equipment. I logged on to see if I could get two tickets, but only one was available, I seemed to have booked it. At least Mick can have a railway afternoon tomorrow.

Mick bobbed up to Waitrose to pick up his new phone. Tilly and I stayed in the shade, the boat exterior not shaded until late afternoon. I knitted, Tilly snoozed, when Mick returned he started to make sure his new phone had everything on it it should.

I watched The Escapist, 2008. Set in a prison, it takes a while to get the hang of the two narratives running side by side. One the preparation of the escape the other of the escape itself. It also took a while to get the volume turned up so I could hear it. Brian Cox is a lifer who hears that his daughter has become a drug addict and is near to death following an overdose. He starts to plan his escape to see her with the assistance of other inmates. The cast has lots of familiar faces, some playing parts you’d not normally expect of them. Some graphic moments, hints in the setting as to the ending, a well crafted film.

A phone call to Cromwell Lock to book our passage next week was followed by one to Torksey Lock. Tide times not necessarily good for getting to Torksey and getting up the lock in one go, so we may have to wait overnight on the pontoon before heading up onto the Fossdyke.

A sad gits curry from Waitrose maybe hadn’t been the wisest purchase as it required the oven to be on for half an hour, but it was super tasty.

1 lock, 8.4 miles, 30 meters fishing line, 1 gordy fish, 6 barbs, 1 hot day, 1 ticket, 1 grounded cat, 1 sad gits curry, 1 new phone, 0.75 of a sock, 2 hot for 2 much knitting.

https://goo.gl/maps/byt9JhxRHdetsUv79

Greasy Head. 7th September

Hazelford Lock

The things you discover about yourself when you have an injury. I now know that every now and again I have a good stretch whilst I’m asleep. My legs stretch out and so do my toes, including my little ones, Ow! No wonder I wake up with it hurting.

We decided to let Tilly out this morning, where we were going what we’d be doing today would depend on when she came back. It was nice having a breeze through the boat, but it did mean that when she returned they had to be closed very quickly, RULE 1 Tilly!!!!

After a while we decided to stay put for the day. We’d considered mooring at Farndon for a night, then heading in to Newark for the weekend. But here we had one side of Oleanna against a high wall and during the morning the majority of the boat was in the shade. With temperatures set to rise again we decided to stay put and keep cool.

One pair of socks was finished last night, time to wind some more skeins into cakes ready to be used, I got my twirly windy whatsit out and wound five more skeins.

Todays viewing started off with a 1956 WW2 film, but it didn’t grab me, too slow. So I decided to see what had been happening on Celebrity Masterchef. I used to watch Masterchef religiously, but nowadays I tend to only tune in for the finals if I get round to it. This year not only have I heard of one of the contestants but I’ve actually worked with Amy.

Way back in 2009 Shakers was the adult Christmas show at Hull Truck. Four waitresses wrestling with a night in Shakers a glitzy bar cum club amidst the leerin’, lovin’, lush couples and groups seeking festive fun! It’s kind of a female Bouncers. This played on top of the set for Pinocchio the kids show. The show had toured and it was decided to have an understudy, Amy Walsh fresh from Drama college was that understudy, learning all four parts, then she was written in as a temp waitress for the Christmas run at Truck.

Tomorrow we’ll see how she does in the final episode of finals week, yes she’s down to the last three!

Several boats came past today, none as noisy as the speed boats from yesterday. You get some big boats in these parts, hopefully they head further than just the pontoon at Gunthorpe Lock.

Mick spent a bit of time in the engine bay tightening the stern gland. When he reappeared he’d got grease over the top of his head. It took a bit of wiping off. Then when he went to find Tilly later he’d got more grease on his head! How? What? Where? It appears this second lot came from his cap which for some reason had been in the engine bay with him earlier on. Showers all round this evening and a cap destined for the washing machine!

**This was the second time, a third of the original amount!**

After a day and night sat in the sun on a bed of rice, Mick’s phone was put on charge. It did nothing. Oh well we knew it was a long shot, there’s a new on on order and ready to collect in Newark.

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 greasy head, 1 hunkered down boat, 1 friend! 1 hot pooped cat, 3rd sock in 4 days.

Another Plunge Into The Depths. 6th September

Stoke Lock to Hazelford Lock low side

A volunteer was spotted this morning and when we were ready to push off Mick radiod ahead, ‘Come in on the green’. I hobbled to the bow to be on rope duty, Mick slowing Oleanna right down for ease of passing the rope around the riser without having to step onto a locker. Down we went to the next reach of the river.

Hazy hazy out there this morning. Looking back up stream a chap was waist deep fishing in the froth near the weir. We soon heard on the radio that someone was on our tail approaching Stoke Lock.

Onwards down stream in the haze, Tilly wasn’t bothered about waving to the lovely ladies in Burton Joyce who’d rescued her, I wonder if that’s the level crossing she was found near.

The banks were filled with Egyptian Geese, Lapwings, Mallards, Egrets, Canadians and Cows. Such a lovely stretch of the river.

At Gunthorpe the gates were open ready and waiting for us. I hobbled to the bow, passed my rope round THE riser. We then had a wait as the boat behind us had just about caught up, the lockie reopened the gates and we had a five minute pause. Down we both went thankful of there being a Lock Keeper on duty today, the pontoon below sits right in the current from the weir so is hard to access on a normal day with two able bodied crew.

As we headed further northwards the sun was doing it’s best to burn through, our view clearing all the time. What a pretty reach. Now we had Herons and sheep sheltering in the shadows from the sun. Cruiser Brenda overtook us, his pace just a touch more than ours. I sat and wove ends on on the socks I’d knitted for Mick and myself.

Approaching Hazelford Lock we were asked to slow down as a boat was about to come up. Brenda and Oleanna slowed our pace and ended up treading water for a while. With the green light we were in the lock and descending down. Here Brenda carried on towards Newark, here we pulled in against the lower part of the moorings.

At the moment it takes time for us to moor up. I’m not able or confident about stepping onto the bow to tie us up as I normally do whilst Mick sorts the stern out. But I can lasso a bollard and hold the rope until my glamourous assistant is available. The bank is high, the river level low currently, so getting on and off the boat is that bit more tricksy. As I stepped back inside I heard a clunk splash clunk. What was that? Mick’s two month old phone plunging into the depths!

We’d just been saying if it wasn’t for Gunthorpe Lock and if there were a few more moorings along the Trent we’d really like it! Not anymore!

Tilly was read the rule book from cover to cover and then given five hours shore leave.

What NO Fishing! Pah!! Oh hang on I remember, up the top it’s really really good! Apart from returning to stock up on Dreamies and have a little bit of a cool off she made use of her hours of freedom and thankfully stuck to all the rules today.

What to have for tea tonight? Here we’d thought a barbeque would be good, but how would I get off the boat? A trial attempt was needed. The bow is higher than the stern and after sussing out walking backwards along the gunnel would give me more room to get my bum on the bank then a big pull up aided by Mick it was possible. However the rest of the big steps were quite hard going to reach the wider area at the top. Maybe, maybe not.

Mick then set to with net, pole and a torch to see if he could at least retrieve his phone from the depths. It actually worked, even with the depth being nearly deeper than our boat hook! At least with the sim card retrieved he could use an old phone until he gets a new one.

In the end we decided to set up bbq base camp a few steps up the bank, it would be a shame not to watch the sun set. The steps made for a good table and seat for me. If only the weir wasn’t so loud it would be so tranquil here. Well until we heard what we thought was a microlight. How wrong were we! Two speed boats came round the bend below the lock racing high up on the plane!

They had to slow down otherwise they’d crash into the lock or weir. Such small boats can stop very quickly and did so right alongside us. Such small boats can make one very big wake, poor Tilly sat inside being buffeted about all over the shop.

One chap headed up to work the lock, which seemed to take forever, especially as the two boats zoomed round in circles! The paddles were lifted, then dropped, the gates remained shut. Then the lights went out, had they broken the lock? Ten minutes later the lights came back on and soon the gates opened, we heard a zoom into the lock, then the gates closed. Ten minutes later we could hear them speeding off into the sunset.

Peace and quiet again (excluding the weir) to enjoy our chilled medication just as the sun was saying goodnight.

3 locks, 9.7 miles, 9.75 digits still, 3 lock keepers thankfully,1 low mooring a touch too high, 1 soggy shivering phone, 3rd drowned phone, 5 hours of long awaited freedom, 1 big haul of blackberries, 1st pair socks finished, 2 pork steaks, 4 veg kebabs, 1 hobbling chef, 2 high speed morons shattering the peace, 2 plans maybe 3 for next year, 1 including the Trent, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

https://goo.gl/maps/WK55yCamscqFbpqB9

Melding Into The Sky. 5th September

Sainsburys Nothingham to Stoke Lock, River Trent

A number checker was spied through the curtain this morning, time for us to move on. Mick rolled the covers back whilst I dug about in the shoe cupboard below the dinette, just what shoes would I be able to wear? Anti-slip clogs, possible but maybe a touch touchy on my toe. Sandals, sadly the strap would sit exactly over my toe. Flip Flops, yes they would do, thank goodness it’s not raining or winter yet. I’d normally avoid such flimsy footwear on a boat, they can be slippy in the wet, offer no protection to your toes and because I don’t wear them all that often I occasionally catch the toe and they become a trip hazard. But I’d not be working locks today, I’d be at the helm, so they would be fine.

A touch breezy as we came up to Castle Lock. Mick hopped off to set the lock, then set me and Oleanna free thankfully not ending up on the offside where the wind and bywash were encouraging us to go.

Along the canal past the old British Waterways Building, the pubs, under all the low bridges to the right hand turn. Here we said goodbye and thank you to Nottingham’s NHS once again. Maybe they should have a mooring for us outside!

The new mural seems to be lasting well, we only spotted one rogue tag along it’s length. At Meadow Lane we pulled into the water point, started to fill up the tank, disposed of yellow water, the rubbish would have to wait til later. A boat came up the lock in front and asked if we’d like the gates leaving, we’d still be a while, they closed up behind them.

A while later a lady walked up from the river. They had a widebeam and a narrowboat to bring up, would we be using the lock to go down. Not for quarter of an hour at least, she decided that they’d wait for us, she thought the widebeam wouldn’t get past us and the cruisers moored opposite, it looked wide enough to us and it wasn’t as if they’d be saving water by waiting as the bywash was flowing away quite happily. Each to their own.

We were quite grateful as the crew worked the lock for us, nowhere to pull in below so we were able to sound the horn and head on downstream. This solved our possible problem of pausing at the pontoon to pick Mick up and me not being able to get off to secure a rope whilst waiting. Thank you guys.

Today there was to a be a Twenty20 match at Trent Bridge, Mick had considered going, but at £60 a ticket for pajama cricket he felt it wouldn’t be worth it. Shame as we’d have moored on the County Hall Steps and Mick could have walked. Another time there will be a match worth staying for.

The river was quiet, only one boat came towards us, a few paddle boarders enjoying the last days of school summer holiday. There are now signs warning of strong currents above Holme Lock, we made sure we tucked well up towards the top gates before Mick stepped off to go and press the buttons. I’d warned him about the flashing lights going on and on and on and on forever between button presses.

The top sluices were up, it looks like they have altered the locks to reset to being full for safety. Thankfully we were heading downstream so this would help speed up the lock operation. But if you were coming from below it would take forever to empty the lock as only one set of paddles were working. I got to go through at the helm whilst Mick waited and waited to press the green button. I should have moved Oleanna over into the shade as the water dropped, I could even have taken a seat and put my foot up, but I remained at the helm incase. Such a big lock, such a long time to empty it!

Mick stood watching waiting for the level to equalise, his t-shirt the same blue of the sky. With a big exit after the lock before rejoining the river properly I could slowly make my way to the pontoon to pick Mick up once the lock was closed, here’s hoping Gunthorpe Lock is manned tomorrow!

Down stream we sauntered in the sunshine. Under Radcliffe Viaduct, round the big bend bringing us to Stoke Lock. A cruiser seemed to be sat in front of the lock, what were they doing? It took a while for us to realise it was actually moored on the high wall. We pulled in to the pontoon, the low mooring we’d hoped for was occupied. The Cat health and safety committee met.

Pontoons set away from the bank give us cause for concern. Tilly may spot twitching in the friendly cover along the bank and go for a pounce, only to discover that the friendly cover was hiding the river, a river with a current towards a weir. We weren’t willing to risk it. Sorry Tilly.

PAH!!!

The afternoon was spent behind closed curtains keeping the sunlight out. A breeze through the boat would have been nice, but it was our choice to have the doors closed and Tilly in, a load of washing was dry in no time.

I cast on a sock whilst watching ‘It Should Happen To You’ 1954, starring Jack Lemmon in his first major film appearance and Judy Holliday as Gladys Glover a young woman seeking fame. Gladys rents a billboard and has her name painted on it in BIG letters. This leads to her becoming a name, Jack Lemmon falling in love with her and the owner of Adams Soap company trying to seduce her. ‘Me Too’ came to mind. Thankfully Gladys came to her senses and managed to escape, I didn’t have to shout at the TV anymore!

I managed to turn the heel of the sock whilst watching a Hitchcock Presents.

3 locks, 6.8 miles, 1 left, 1 pair flipflops, 1 collapsing chair, 0 cricket, 27p a ball! 0 shore leave, 1 miffed cat, 0 bbq tonight, 1 pasta salad, 2nd sock well on it’s way, 7th requested.

https://goo.gl/maps/id1pNU9EUztuvLy79

Carrying On. 4th September

Sainsburys, Nothingham

The decision was made early on to stay put for the day, a day with my foot up would be wise. Yes I can take Oleanna through the locks whilst Mick works them, but when we reach the river I’m not confident that I’ll be able to get a rope around a cleat on a pontoon whilst I hobble around. Most of the locks, we are hoping, will have keepers on duty on the Trent. But at Meadow Lane it’s very unlikely, we’ve certainly never seen one there.

So it was a day of listening to a phone ringing across the way, boats passing, a touch of work and hearing from our lodgers that the new sim card we sent them had deteriorated over the weekend to worse than the previous one! Fiber is on the cards but won’t be installed for at least another month!

Mick cooked us a breakfast, I’m sure there must have been some vitamin C in there somewhere! Then we enjoyed sitting in the shade until the sun came overhead late afternoon.

Mick went to check the mooring sign which says 48 hours 130m to each side. We were definitely within that. A chap sat on the grass nearby struck up a conversation with Mick, he’d been to rescue a boat that had been stolen and had all it’s windows smashed. The chap said he’d lived in Nottingham for five years and never noticed the 48 hour mooring sign. I suspect he’d never looked for it! We should have moved up, but overstaying for a day because of a broken toe, we’d chance it.

Seven requests have come in for a pair of socks. The needles came out, yarns auditioned, 24 stitches cast on, increased to 52. The tv went on, what film could I watch? When I broke my ankle I worked my way through a box set of Alfred Hitchcock films, today I’d make do with Film 4. Sid James and Hatty Jacques, can you guess the film? Very much of it’s time, 1963.

Then followed a WW2 film with Frank Sinatra and Trevor Howard, Von Ryan’s Express. Mick joined me to watch this one. Prisoners of war, a train chase, explosions, planes, vicars impersonating German officers, also very much of it’s time 1965.

Time for a shower. We’d been told to replace the strapping on my toes after a shower. Mick carefully cut away the existing tape, ow! Only a slight amount of bruising, why do I never get dramatic bruises? I got to see the position of my toe for the first time since it had been adjusted. Not quite how it used to be, but it certainly was better.

By the end of the day I’d knitted a hole sock, my bum was aching, a pillow required for long sits on our sofa, Mick had learnt how to make pork stroganoff (a version of). I’d kept an eye on my toes whilst hobbling about, apart from one time! And Tilly spent the day either being a long cat or shouting at the back doors!

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 cooked breakfast, 1 recorded parcel not recognised! size 6 vibrant, 1 Sid, 1 Hatty, 1 Frank, 1 Trevor, 1 train chase to Switzerland, 1 sock, 1 painful toe tap.

Not A Chip In The Air. 1st September

Trent Junction to Beeston, Nottingham and Beeston Canal

We winded and headed along Cranfleet Cut. There would be few trains today due to a train strike, the sign marking where HS2 was planned to cross now looks a touch forgotten about.

The stone work along the bank has lots of holes in it. What were these for? Did there used to be a wooden structure that was supported by the holes? Is it to aid drainage from the land behind? If anyone knows please tell us.

Up ahead we could see volunteers at the lock. As we approached they all stood up and walked over to close the paddles and open the gates. Four chaps in blue with life jackets. Well I’d be superfluous if I hopped off so I stayed on board, allowing them to operate one of the few remaining manual locks for us this year.

Now down on the river we zoomed our way towards Beeston. The level seemed to be a touch low, we could see where walls lerk below the surface ready to catch you out should you stray over to the eastern bank. We passed Barton Island where recently a boat sank, a problem with it’s weedhatch. They came past us yesterday being towed to a boat yard on the Soar somewhere.

The wooden houses by the river. Various styles. I like the slightly quirkier ones which look like they’ve been cobbled together from bits and bobs. A new one going up, a lot of sterling board being used, wonder what it’ll be clad in?

We pulled up on the long pontoon before Beeston Lock, a chap pulled his boat almost to the end, but not quite. A pause for us to empty the yellow water ready for disposal at the elsan, no notice that the services have been vandalised recently.

Up at the lock boats were coming from everywhere, well from Nottingham. I checked to see what people were doing, all stopping for water, just what we were after too. The lock was sorted to being in our favour, we dropped down to the canal level, only about a foot today, then pulled over to wait in line for the water point to become free.

**5 miles to get back on the river again**

The tap took it’s time to fill everyones tanks and bottles, you would think a place like Nottingham would have more than two taps!

Now to find ourselves a mooring. At first it didn’t look hopeful, but then I spied two gaps either side of a dutch barge. The second one looked like it might just be long enough for us, the chap from the dutch barge came out to help pull us in sideways, a couple of inches spare front and back, brilliant.

QUICK!!! I got on the internet, time to see if I could book a table for this evening, even Tilly didn’t know what was going on, Why wasn’t she giving me the rules and writing down the magic numbers?! 5:45 or 8pm. I opted for 8, my request had been received, but would it be accepted? An hour went by before I got confirmation of our booking. Hooray! We could go to the Victoria Hotel.

Apparently I am grounded. As there is no ground inside I really don’t know what it means. She says I’ve broken rule number 1 four times in the last 3 days. Only one thing to do, sulk!

Our table sat waiting for us at the Victoria Hotel in the Middle Room, every other table packed. People stood at the bar to order drinks and food whilst others stood in front of the blackboard menu, also available on their website. What a choice, what a popular place. We’ve eaten here once before in 2016, but not managed to either get a mooring or a table since.

We made our selections, drank our wine and watched other peoples meals come out from the kitchen. Not one chip could be smelt, not one burger on the menu. One sausage or two with your mash though.

I’d chosen a Moroccan Lamb Tagine which came with rice and some slices of bread instead of couscous and a nan bread. Mick had a chicken skewer with pitta bread and a salad. Puddings were also partaken, Pistachio Chocolate Brownie for me and Bakewell Tart for Mick. All very very tasty. So glad we got a table.

As we finished our meal people lurked in doorways, waiting for tables to clear or for no shows. The kitchen stays open, so if you are lucky and get somewhere to sit they will serve you. Then the drinkers gradually take over, some sitting reading the newspapers with a pint, one chap inhaling some rather good looking cheese on toast.

On our return to Oleanna I counted six maybe seven campervans pulled up, thankfully noone would be opening their curtains in the morning to see us staring back at them. Tilly wasn’t interested in us at all, no knee sitting, just one very big sulk!

2 locks, 5.1 miles, 1 empty wee tank, 1 full water tank, 2 troughs of strawberries tidied up, 1 table booked, 1 sulky cat, 1 very good meal, 1 pub definitely worth visiting, 0 chips seen or smelt.

https://goo.gl/maps/vL6gFNKn73voXgyG6

Dodging Balls. 31st August

Kegworth Marine and Ratcliffe Bridge 46 to Trent Junction, River Trent

A cruiser just beat us to Ratcliffe Lock, a crew member sent ahead to set it. I checked with the skipper if they would be willing to share or if they’d rather be on their own. Some cruisers are weary of narrowboats in locks, but on this occasion they were fine about sharing just so long as we went into the lock first. Fine with us.

Now close to Ratcliffe on Soar powerstation, the cooling towers in just about every photograph. Through Redhill Flood Lock and on towards the Trent. A narrowboat came towards us at speed, had they misjudged the bend by the big weir? Plenty of wellie and they managed to adjust their course to avoid us.

Now the water stretches out as the Soar meets the Trent, meets the Erewash Canal, meets Cranfleet Cut. Sadly no space on the pontoon mooring, one of our favourites which is a favourite with many others, can’t remember the last time we managed to get moored there. However a space against the wall was available, we winded and pulled in, here Tilly would be allowed shore leave and we’d still have quite a view from the side hatch and our bed in the morning.

It was still quite early, before midday. The height of the bank and forecast rain in the afternoon put me off doing the mushroom vents, again!

I planned a walk, checked when rain was due and set off hoping to remain dry today. I walked over the bottom of Trent Lock Junction, we’d forgotten the existence of the Lock Cafe, maybe we should have gone there for lunch.

I walked along the banks of the Trent up to he small garden centre where I checked to see what was for sale. Diddy Christmas trees! Our new Christmas tree had been doing quite well back in Scarborough when last checked and this year we don’t plan on being onboard for the big day, so no need for one.

My plotted route brought me to the edge of a golf course. I could just make out the next yellow post marking the footpath across the neat grass. Groups of men swung clubs. Would I make it across without getting hit? Would I be a distraction? Should I change my route? I decided that the course would have to accomodate me and other walkers, so hopefully I’d not be in the firing line and have to dodge balls.

I survived and then walked right down the far side of the course. I didn’t bother trying to count how many balls were sitting in the grass of the driving range. Presumably they have a sit on hoover to collect them at the end of the day.

The footpath popped out at a bridge over the Erewash Canal. We’d considered having a trip up to Langley Mill, but decided against it. Eight years ago we’d cruised to the end, we enjoyed it (apart from the chap with a shotgun), but it isn’t one we simply must return to. Mills Dockyard did look very picturesque today.

Across a field to walk round a lake, under two railway lines, then across another field back to Cranfleet Cut where I rejoined the towpath back to Oleanna.

Time to make that carrot cake. Tilly mumbled something at me as she came in the stern doors, she was ushered straight out the front doors before she’d finished what she was saying, the doors closed firmly behind her. WHAT IS RULE NUMBER ONE TILLY!!!!

Early evening three sailing boats came out for a race, a very slow motion race as there was just about no breeze. One of the boats needed motorised assistance to return to the club house.

1 lock, 1 flood lock, 1.9 miles, 2.5 miles walked, 1 dry boater, 4 times in 3 days! 200 grams of carrots, 1 apple, 75 grams cream cheese, 1 improved internet, 1 loose connection, 1 stove lit, 0 Mrs Tilly stamps of approval, 1 cat grounded!

https://goo.gl/maps/ARKFfzsBnmx9pJN48

Holding Up His Majesty’s Mail. 19th August

Between bridges 8 and 9 to between Locks 21 and 22

Princess Sparkle and Bilbo Bagins let go of the timeshared outside before Tom and She did. The outside moved slowly away, but it moved slower for them. She said we’d just about caught them up when the bridge drifted up to reached us.

On arrival the bridge had only just closed, the crew from NB Drifter just about to climb back on board after letting themselves through, some road traffic and then a couple more boats. I walked over, turned the key unlocking the barriers which are manual here. I closed one side and was walking across to do the other one when a Post Office van arrived. The Postie offered to help push the bridge, a welcome offer as it is really quite heavy. He was also happy to wait for a following boat to come through too, he said he was used to it, normally helping the day boats through. We were all soon on our way again.

At the bottom of Foxton boats were here there and everywhere. A day boat wanting to wind from it’s mooring, NB Drifter had opened the bridge and were now backing up the otherside of it towards the bottom of the inclined plane to wait for water. The boat in front of us was trying to find a suitable place to pull in before checking in for the locks, we just waited until there was a suitable pause and headed through the middle turning right under Rainbow Bridge towards Leicester.

Back in the world of widebeams we passed one which you could say was moored in a winding hole, but it’s a big winding hole, they’d taken time to find places for their ropes just below the waters surface. Past Debdale we were now where we should have been last night and entering the SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSI area.

When we first did this stretch we noted the amount of reeds, how narrow the channel was and how few moorings there were. Now it’s pretty much like most canals, certainly there was little difference on our way to Market Harborough. The wind blew the reeds about, a wave of green alongside Oleanna, but thankfully the gusts didn’t seem to be catching us out.

Tunnel mode engaged for Saddlington Tunnel. A chap at Foxton the other day had been saying how long it was and that he’d be cycling over it later. I told him of Standedge Tunnel and how it was six times as long, certainly no way of seeing from one end to the other. With our powerful torch at the back we could see all the bat boxes, you are meant to be able to see the bats swooping out of the tunnel at dusk.

A pause at a mooring for lunch then onwards to the locks.

The Top Lock Cottage is for sale, a renovation opportunity apparently, even though it has quite a new kitchen. A big amount of land comes with it too for a guide price of £650,000. They’ve been very careful with their drone photo to include the lock and not too much of the sewage works the nearest neighbour!

A C&RT chap was busy running water down, paddles open at both ends of the lock. He was surprised to hear that North Lock in Leicester was fully booked for Tuesday, he didn’t understand why they didn’t just get on and mend it. I suspect that will happen once the school holidays are over with and the height of the season has passed.

At Bridge House Barn it was the lull between ceremony and evening do at a wedding. New guests were arriving at the big teepee, Mick waved at the kids who soon would be busy on the dance floor or hiding under the buffet tables.

We dropped down the first four locks, one pound most definitely low, nowhere near the bywash. I walked ahead to set the fifth lock hoping to moor overlooking Wistow. But then a space with a view showed itself, half an hour short of where we’d planned to be, we pulled in. A good wide towpath, trees friendly cover for Tilly, the willow tree needed a touch of a prune before the pram cover could be lifted, but all good. We just needed the wind to die down now for a barbecue.

Sadly the wind kept coming and going, it would have fanned barbecue coals too well, so we abandoned that idea and had kedgeree instead.

Late evening, photos appeared on a facebook group of water flowing out of the side of the Stainforth and Keadby Canal near to the M18. The poster had reported it to C&RT at midday, no notice had been issued. Speculation of a breach started to spread through social media. We’re not due there for several weeks, but if there is a problem we’ll be needing to take a different route. First decision will be at Trent Lock, if we carry on up the Trent the next decision will be at Keadby whether to go round Trent Falls. For now we’ll watch and see how things progress and hope that our friend David and the other moorers on that pound are okay and don’t end up sitting on the bottom.

4 locks, 8.3 miles, 2 bridges, 1 held up, 1 right, 1 tunnel, 0 mysterons, 1 windswept bride, 1 low pound, 1 boat heading our way, 1 mooring with a view, 2 windy to sit out, 1 happy cat, 1 band playing 80’s 90’s hits into the night.