Category Archives: Sculpture

Harleys, Riots, Collars And A Double Agent. 26th May

The Swan On The River

Last night we’d checked at the pub if it would be okay to stay another day hooked up on the mooring making use of the full 48hours, this was fine. Washing was done, the boiler switched to electric for hot water, the electric kettle used rather than gas.

Claiming just outside the hatch as her own

Tilly was given shore leave with one extra rule, not to go near the railway! I was pretty sure there would be enough to keep her occupied close to the boat not to worry about that climbable tree across the railway lines. She got busy under the brambles between the boat and pub.

When she came back for a drink we closed the doors as it was our turn to head of and explore, with a shopping bag to stock up for a couple of days.

Looking down Main Street

Littleport. We expected a village, farming at it’s soul. Instead we found it to be confused as to it’s size, motorbikes, tailoring and a mass riot amongst the barbers and take aways.

Arum Lilys seem to be popular round here

Back in 1086 Litelport was worth 17,000 eels a year to the Abbots of Ely according to the Doomsday Book. King Canute is said to have founded the village after being given shelter by a fisherman who later was made mayor.

In May 1816 the whole country was struggling to recover from the Napoleonic War, many soldiers returned from the fight to food shortages and unemployment. Local men gathered at The Globe public inn (now one of the two Co-ops). Fuelled by drink their frustrations grew into a riot, shops and houses were broken into and the mass marched on Ely. The Militia were called in from Bury and when order was returned 5 men were hanged, many deported, just about every family on the village was affected.

Times remained hard, many started to move away including William Harley who moved to the USA, his son William Sylvester Harley the co-founder of Harley Davidson Motorcycles. There now stands a sculpture in front of St George’s Church, sadly another church kept locked.

St Georges

On the corner of Globe Lane and Main Street stands a rather grand building with high chimneys and a thatched roof. The only thing giving away it’s former identity is a rearing black horse on the ornate decoration. A former Lloyds Bank built in 1930.

Hope Brothers set up a factory in the village in 1881, three stories for shirt and collar making in White Hart Lane, formed by Thomas Peacock. Ten years later 300-400 women and children were employed, housing had been built for his staff along with a library and social club. During the 40’s and 50’s the company made the England football kit and by 1979 the factory became the home to Burberry.

The Library

There is also the tale of Eddie Chapman a British double agent who was flown to England by the Germans to monitor the effect of V-1 and V-2 bombs and rockets on London. His plane was rerouted over East Anglia where a British fighter fired upon them, Eddie bailing out and making it to ground near Apes Hall, Littleport before the plane was shot down.

We did some shopping at the larger of the two Co-ops and walked back to the river via the station. The Littleport Town Sign is carved from wood by Jeremy Turner. It depicts the history of the town/village. I so hope the area isn’t known for domestic abuse with large cleavers!

Then round the Boat Haven moorings and across someone’s garden to the river bank. Here we avoided the cow pats and didn’t come across the fabled Black Shuck, but then again it wasn’t a dark moonless night.

We were surrounded

The moorings had got busy whilst we were out, we were now the filling in a cruiser sandwich. We chatted to the chap from behind who’d wanted to fill with water across the way at the end of the EA mooring. However a hire boat was moored there and despite there being loads of space behind them they had refused to pull back to make room. We’d be needing water in the morning, if they haven’t left by then we’ll breast up to fill our tank.

A diddy engine

The afternoon it was time to do a touch more on my little project. Things were threaded onto wire and then given a layer or two of tissue paper and pva to make them more solid and hold things together. Still quite a bit to do.

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 narrowboat sandwich, 1 slight altercation, 1 stainless steel Harley, 1 sneaked through garden, 1 union jack jacket, 24 hours on hook up, 7 cows, 1 cat, 1369 vampires.

Gormley Spotting. 15th May

The Boathouse

Today it was Mick’s turn to head northwards. Morning appointments mean it’s cheaper to travel the night before, although with train strikes on Sundays this makes trains across to Scarborough a touch awkward. But the advantage of a night in Scarborough is that today the grass would get cut along with a touch more gardening. If we were living in the house I’m sure we would be taking part in No Mow May, we do our bit for the pollinators elsewhere in the garden and it helps to make the house look loved, until it has grown another a foot!

I walked into town as Mick sped off on a bike. Half way there I realised that I would have to wait for the shops to open so I needed something else to keep me occupied.

Yesterday when checking out the sculptures I read about there being some Antony Gormley figures high above the Cathedral Square, so I went Gormley spotting.

Can you see him?

Places To Be was commissioned back in the 1980’s by Peterborough Development Corporation, it was originally on display at Monkstone House Offices but it got vandalised. The three figures were then moved to the water meadows where it lived for eight years, but sadly one of them lost their arms. Back in 2018 new arms were attached and the figures moved once more to be above Cathedral Square. They are about the future, looking forward, walking towards and embracing the future.

I had a clue as to where they were positioned, if you look up two of the figures are in plain sight, but the third one eluded me. I walked along most of the façade of the Queensgate Shopping centre where it was meant to be to no avail! But I had omitted to look behind me on exiting the shopping centre, the walking man is a little shy.

A visit to Clares for a stretchy head band, a check round M&S Foodhall for anything marked down in price that looked tasty, then I walked towards the station to Waitrose. This would be the only place in town for me to buy the yoghurt I like, got a few other bits too.

Look

Back at the boat I was relieved that there were only two fishermen, so far. The stern doors were opened for Tilly and the cratch got a cat sized hole for ease of access should the stern not be reachable today. Tilly and I agreed that we didn’t want the same thing to happen today, the both of us left hoping she’d be able to get back to Oleanna in safety. It would also have been very unfair not to let her out, we just hoped our mooring didn’t become too popular once again.

The weather helped. In fact there was only really one group of teenagers who came to sit by the water today. They brought their music and loud voices and gradually moved into the woods as it started to rain.

Goodbye

The chap who likes test driving his rib arrived with his cruiser. I thought that now the basin would be full of petrol fumes and many waves as he practiced doing wheelies and going sideways. He pulled up behind us, stayed for twenty minutes and then pushed off, thank goodness!

Being inside on my own meant I could give the floor a good clean. It gets swept through quite frequently, but with muddy paws and shoes constantly traipsing through it gets bad. We like boating, not cleaning boats. The mop was so solid it needed a good half hours soak before I could wring it out. Everything was lifted off the floor, mats taken outside for a good bashing. I swept, hoovered and then gave it a really good wash. Then a second wash. A scrub on high traffic areas with a pan scrubber, another quick mop down before I left it all to dry.

Then out came the Method wooden floor cleaner. I’ve had this for years but have never had enough time on my own when the floor has been clean enough to warrant using it! The instructions said to squirt it onto the floor, then using a dry mop with long strokes to clean the floor. Well there was the mop on the roof, now wet with rain and not particularly clean. Then the mop I’d been using which was very wet. So I created my own mop like thing with the broom, a clean large cloth and some parcel tape. This worked very well and will, if I ever get round to it again, be repeated.

Of course soon as I was finished and stood back to admire the lovely clean floor, Tilly arrived through the cratch, straight through the boat with her wet muddy paws to her food bowl! Oh well I’d been proud of my efforts for a minute or two.

Who needs cat flaps!

At about 4:30pm Tilly decided that inside was a better place to be today. The doors remained open until gone 6, but she wasn’t interested. Outside remained quiet apart from our neighbour running his generator for half an hour. Out of interest is the 8pm to 8am rule applicable on EA waters too?

0 locks, 0 miles, 2 trains, 2 lawns cut, 1 Christmas hedge trimmer put to good use, 2 Gormleys, 1 still to spot, 3 head bands, 2 pots yoghurt, 5 miles walked, 3 washes, 1 scrub, 2 cleans, 1 lovely clean wooden….. 64 muddy paw prints! 1 quieter day all round.

PLEASE go HOME! 14th May

The Boathouse

Conversations on the Geraghty zoom this morning were obviously going to be taken over to a certain extent by the news of a new member of the family this week. Mick is now a Great Uncle for the forth time, congratulations to Ruth, James, P and Daphne.

With the sun out and the temperature rising where we are moored was guaranteed to be a popular place. A group of youngsters arrived planning on a swim, all fine until they start peering into our home. Mick went out the back to adjust things making sure they knew someone was onboard, they moved round the basin to jump in elsewhere.

It was time for Mick to do the oil change, the one he was going to do when Oleanna went into Blue Water Marina in Thorne last November. The timing of it is just about correct with the engine hours, he’d just wanted to leave her over the winter with fresh lubrication. Overalls went on and the bow doors were opened for Tilly to be able to come and go as she pleased, today would be a sausage day.

Tilly whilst it was quiet

A rib turned up, another backed down the slipway into the water. Sunny weekend water fun was to be had by many. Groups turned up to socialise, smoke and for some to swim. During one gap Tilly made it back to the boat with ease, staked her claim on the wooden posts and rolled around, MINE! All mine!

Looks idyllic doesn’t it

With Mick in the engine bay I considered giving Oleanna a wash, but there were too many people about, instead I headed off to buy a newspaper. I could just walk to the Co-op on Thorpe Road but that would be boring, instead I’d head to the one on Oundle Road on the other side of the river. This would mean a good walk along the side of the rowing course and across Orton Lock.

A long straight route towards the river, lots of rowers speeding their way along the course, giant floating pomegranates marking the ends.

Under the Nene Parkway there was a great painting of a hand. Once I was under the bridge and had turned round there were several more quality pieces of graffiti art, some more accomplished than others. Then there were artworks created by school kids that had been printed onto banners and I’d passed several sculptures, quite an arty area.

Orton Lock was full with the top gates left open. Over the last few days notices have been put up by the EA requesting the locks should be left empty with the guillotine gates up, but someone obviously couldn’t be bothered emptying the lock. I walked over the weir across the Nene Valley Railway line and on through Orton Meadows, joined the fast world again before ducking into the wonderfully airconditioned Co-op.

NB Mushy P below the lock

A more relaxed shaded route through woods was found for my return to the river. The lock was full and NB Mushy P was just arriving to go up, out for a pootle making the most of a lovely day.

A quick search on Google suggested there would be a lot of sculptures along a path that ran parallel to the one I’d already walked. Some concrete pieces were nothing special, maybe one was even missing from it’s stand!

Then there were others that stood out. Little Prince by Jane Ackroyd. The Cormorant by Elizabeth Cooke was my favourite with a fish spine in it’s beak.

Festival Boat by Sokari Douglas Camp can be seen from the river glistening in the sunshine. Odd Oaks by Nicholas Pope now decaying and lying on their sides.

When I got back to the boat more people had arrived. A group with a rib were making quite a collection of glasses from the pub. At least two groups were jumping in and we had their music playing. Oleanna’s bow had revisited classics such as Abba and at the stern there was more beat than melody.

Still quite calm

Tilly had found a gap to return to Oleanna but around about 5pm she decided that she’d like another perusal around the trees, well within cat curfew she was allowed out, us grateful as tonight I’d unwisely decided to cook a roast chicken, so we were thankful that all doors could be open whilst the oven did it’s thing.

NB Mushy P returned nudging dangling legs out of the way.

Swany

6pm came and went, still no Tilly. The groups of loud people, music and splashes almost certainly putting her off making a dash back home. I walked round the nearby wooded area calling for her, hoping that she’d come to me so that I could pick her up and assist her back to the boat. There was no sight or sound.

As one group left another arrived, older men with more music all intent on jumping in.

An hour later Mick tried to find Tilly, still no sign.

I did a round of the wood, chatted to the chap from NB Mushy P who had returned, but still all the people about put her off.

Before our roast was ready someone arrived on a motorbike, they also had to jump in. Then revving of the engine followed.

We really don’t mind sharing the space and water with other people. The noise was a little bit too much at times, but they were all enjoying themselves. However all the time I kept willing them all to PLEASE go HOME! Then Tilly would return of her own accord, well that’s what we hoped.

The roast chicken was eaten, Mick did the washing up. Outside a game of football was had using a plastic bottle as a ball. Just P*ss off! And let my cat come home! Eventually people started to head off. The rib set off, leaving half a pubs worth of empty glasses behind. The motorbike revved itself away. Gradually the final music faded along with the chat and banter. Peace once more. It was 8:30.

Outside one fisherman cast his line into the basin. Mick started walking round. I opened up the land side of the cratch cover a little, big enough for a skinny cat, then did a more concerted walk round the wood. Mad cat woman was out and in full voice. I called and called, then listened for a reply. Nothing!

The only thing left to do was trust in Tilly to come home. The litter tray was put out the back in case she’d got lost and we settled down in front of the TV. An episode of Killing Eve did it’s best to keep us occupied, but all the time I had my ear listening for Tilly’s bell and her thug like sprint across the wooden decking by the mooring.

A little thud was heard at 9:15 as four white paws jumped onto the stern of Oleanna. Thank goodness!! The doors were closed straight away. Tilly headed straight for her food bowl she was starving. Half an hours extra shore leave had turned into over four hours. Thank goodness she is such a good boat cat, she’ll sleep well tonight.

0 locks, 0 miles, 5 walked, 1 oil change, 12mm play on belts, 752 people swimming, 5 cruisers, 32 glasses left, 1 hot day, 1 sculpture trail, 1 stranded cat, 2 concerned boaters, 1 pooh bucket swapped over, 1 failed deterrent, 2 final episodes Killing Eve, 4 white paws and 1 white tipped tail back safe and sound.