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Have I Got News for You…

Hello again dear reader and welcome back to boatbirdland.

It’s been a while, I know…

At last, I have some mildly interesting news to share. Hobo is booked in for bottom blacking in May. This is now seriously overdue, largely (but not soley) due to Covid. John and I will be taking her to Stetham Ferry on the Old West river, where a very nice man called Ken will do the business in his drydock.

We went there on recommendation, to meet with him and get the feel of the place. It’s important to me that I feel happy with where and with whom I leave my home of almost 17 years. After a quick and reassuring chat, I handed over the required deposit, instantly shedding the guilt I’ve been feeling about neglecting the old girl.

The really exciting bit though is that we get to go on a cruise. It will only take a few days to get there, the actual length of time depending on how we play it. For once, we won’t be on a mission and plan to take our time and do some exploring. We fancy a nosey at the Lodes, narrow, shallow waterways that run through fenland and come off the Cam. From what I can gather, they should be fairly devoid of other boats and spectacularly scenic, quiet and peaceful. I will of course regale you with the tale and pictures when the time comes.

Ken will need Hobo for five days. Five days when Foxy and I can’t live on board. Not a problem for me; my brother has a mobile home in his garden with all mod cons – mains water, electricity and a Flushing Toilet bejabbers! I shall be very comfortable there, as I morph seamlessly from river gypsy to trailer trash. Again, pictures and full story to follow.

Sadly though I can’t take Foxy there, leaving me no option other than to send him to jail. I’m really not happy about this but there is a highly regarded cattery at the end of the lane here so, subject to a successful recce, this is what I must do. I shall miss him terriby and hope he forgives me…

He will of course cruise with us, then we will drive him to/fetch him from from his temporary lodgings.

But, before all that and probably soon, we plan to do a little trip out – probably just a day or two – to get us and Foxy back in boat mode. We did a jaunt back in October, just up to the end of the navigation here where, conveniently, there just happens to be a pub. We were only off the mooring some four hours but boy did it feel good, Hobo behaved beautifully as ever and started on the first turn.

We’d not done this end of the Lark before and found it to be much more windy and river-like than the downstream end, which is a long, straight ditch to be honest.

Just a few pics…

A lovely day.

Last, but by no means least, I ask you for a favour. John has a friend in South Africa who is doing sterling work with sick and injured animals from the poor communities there. I have seen these townships, their people and animals and appreciate the hardships they face.

I have met Helene, who I know to be fiercly hardworworking and dedicated to this cause. I have seen some of her work too – the befores and afters – so can vouch for her success rate, both in treatment and re-homing. John also gets involved when he is out there and has fostered several dogs and treated them.

I don’t normally do appeals but the situation in South Africa right now is dire. We think we’ve got it tough but it’s nothing compared to what’s going on down there. The electricity supply is sporadic, amounting on some days to a couple of hours in the morning and maybe a couple more at night. Can you imagine what that’s doing to businesses? They will soon no longer be able to operate at all. And as for the poor folk, who struggle at the best of times, they now simply can’t afford to eat.

Helene normally enjoys a lot of support from her local area but, in these very difficult times, much of that has dried up, which has made it necessary for her to appeal further afield.

Please click on the link below and help if you can.

https://www.backabuddy.co.za/champion/project/outreach-vehicle

There’s another, more informative link with pictures but I cant get it to work. I will keep trying…

Tags: boating, cats, narrowboat, South Africa

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Categories Rivers, south africa, Uncategorized

January Blues…

20 Jan

Not something that boatbird is usually susceptible to, January heralding the end of silly season and the start of another year with all its promise of longer, warmer days. But the inner workings of Hobo are currently conspiring to dump her squarely in the doldrums.

So what is the problem?

Two things, in the main, a water feature in the wardrobe (AGAIN!) and an inverter battery bank which is as dead as a doornail.

The water in the wardrobe, a perennial problem you may have read about here before, occurs when water mysteriously gets into the bilge and travels towards the back of the boat, which sits lower in the water. There are many and various possible causes, so just as well that my old mate Steve is up for some serious diagnostic investigations. He’s been here before and has previously cut an inspection hatch in the wardrobe floor to allow inspection, funnily enough, and the the removal of said water, which he duly does.

Normally, this would mean a week or so of aqua-vaccing to take out what a pump won’t but this time it just kept on trickling down with no sign of letting up. At this point, I’m thinking ruptured water tank, internal plumbing leak and other such awkward and disruptive things to fix.

At least it’s not a hole in the hull – I know this because we are not sinking.

So once again Steve bails me out, then checks out the front end of the boat to try and nail down what is going on. This reveals a leaky water pump – a huge relief, being, probably, the easiest thing to get at and fix.

Pump ordered and Steve booked to install it. I dismissed the service kit option when I discovered this was half the price of a new pump and considerably more work.

So we’re on the way to resolving this one.

The inverter battery bank, my pride and joy, has given up the ghost. Six single cell two volt traction batteries, designed to run the inverter to give me 240 volt power when not connected to the mains. This has previously given me 5+ days when on the riverbank without having to run the engine to charge them.

Now you see them…

Now you don’t.

Sexy eh? On wheels. Ideal for topping up. Neat. Battery box designed and built by the John. Genius.

They are reputed to last for ten or more years and, when I come to think about it, they have. My, how time flies. They were fitted when I was at Hartford Marina prior to Hobo’s wanderings – and that’s around twelve years ago! Fact is, Hobo is less of a hobo these days so replacement batteries can be of a less expensive nature. It’s a shame but a couple of boring old 110 lead acids should do the trick for the power I need to pull on the smaller outings I’m likely to be making in the foreseeable.

My buddy Steve will see to this when he comes over again to sort the water pump, so I’m fixed – or soon will be. No need to stress.

Apart from the bottom blacking, which is well overdue, painting inside and out plus other assorted essential maintenance…

But there’s an awful lot to be glad about. I’m in a lovely place, surrounded by lovely people, nature, the countryside and some stunning wintry skies…

And the fabulous Foxy coming home…

Fear not, I’ve not succumbed, so much to look forward to.

Janauary isn’t all bad you know.

Tags: boating, narrowboat, nature

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Categories Uncategorized

Tis the Season…

20 Dec

Happy Christmas everybody.

I hope this time brings peace and joy to you and yours, and that Santa brings you something special too.

I’m not a big fan to be honest, although I do love all the fairy lights, and fail to see why we should wait until Christmas to be jolly – or to adorn our floating homes with twinkly lights. And showing peace and goodwill to our fellow man is surely something we should all aspire to at all times.

It all seems very contrived and commercially led to me and no longer holds the magic it did when I was a child. To discover that longed for bike (second hand and re-painted bright red) or the Sindy doll with a couple of outfits was of course wonderful, as were all the foodie treats. That no doubt says more about my age than anything else…

But, even then, the real treat for me was when the adults all joined in with playing board games – Cleudo being my favourite. I was the baby of the family and, with three (much older) big brothers and a mum and dad who had to work hard to keep the wolf from the door, it was the simple things that made it for me. And, back in the day, I swear it always snowed…

This will be my sixteenth Christmas afloat and third here on the island. Apart from a few where I’ve spent time with family and friends or travelled abroad that is. I’ve enjoyed spending the festive season on board alone – or latterly with my furry friend…

It’s when my beloved cocoon really comes into its own; nurturing and shielding me from the big bad world out there. I’m happy with that.

But the real joy is reaching the winter solstice, and know that days will gradually lengthen from today. This really is something to celebrate.

So happy solstice dear reader, enjoy your festivities whatever form they take, and I’ll see you on the other side…

Tags: Christmas, narrowboat, solstice

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Categories Uncategorized

Taking Another View..

19 Nov

Nothing much to report since all the excitement of last month’s move, except to say that I am enjoying different views…

Just across the water in my little ditch.

It’s a fact that you only have to move a mile or so along the river to gain a completely different perspective. Any new mooring brings a fresh outlook and my little jaunt round to Moorhen is no exception.

I can actually see the sunset better from here…

My old spot on Lockside was brilliant for sunrises…

But, if you know me at all, you’ll know I didn’t get to see many of those!

Hobo has turned a full 180 from where she was.

The full moon as seen from Hobo’s bow was stunning…

The soundtrack is different too. Notably, I hear more human noises, but I’m getting used to that and it’s OK. I still get to enjoy the owls hooting but now also the cows mooing. I continue to hear Mildenhall’s finest overhead and, if it sounds interesting, I can still jump up and do plane spotting.

Water levels are incredibly low at the moment – Hobo is only inches off the bottom. I can see right under the decking…

Which is weird.

As viewed from the kitchen sink, the grass would normally be at eye level but at the moment I get a reflection of me washing up!

Suffice to say that Foxy and I are happy here and enjoying our new home…

I’m loving the benefits of being close to the car, services and simplified deliveries of coal, gas etc. I am not missing The Long Trek at all, and Foxy is eagerly exploring and establishing his new territory…

There’s a short-haired black cat he interacts with. They stare at each other and make weird noises – not sure if it’s a love or hate relationship.

Time will tell.

Tags: cats, narrowboat, photography

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Categories Uncategorized

It was the best of moorings…

8 Oct

… it was the worst of moorings. To misquote the bard.

For the last couple of years, I have enjoyed, arguably, the best spot on the island. Very private and secluded…

Perfect peace and tranquility.

With stunning views of the river…

Not to mention the wildlife…

Foxy has enjoyed roaming free. This way…

And that…

And nosing about in other peoples’ gardens.

Climbing trees…

Or generally hanging out with Hobo…

Doing what a boat cat does.

My best buddy…

The hunting has been jolly good, judging by the number of little gifts I’ve been given.

He’s loved it here. As have I. Largely left to my own devices, yet with help and company available when needed, I have had the very best of both worlds. It’s been a joy.

But every silver lining has a cloud.

It’s not the most practical, as in being a jolly long walk to and from the car, and with a giant bridge to scale…

Not ideal for this ageing boatbird.

Factor in some tricky logistical nightmares when it comes to getting coal/gas/shopping to the boat – especially during the winter months…

And it has taken its toll.

So, it is with heavy heart, I have decided to move to a different spot on the island, kindly offered to me by the management. Berths here don’t come up too often so am grateful to be considered. It’s not as private or secluded as where I am now, but is still bankside and does have a neat, manageable garden and good terraced decked area and flat lawn…

I’ll be able to get the car really close to the mooring…

Also the bins and the post room are nearby. Deliveries of coal, gas, shopping etc can come right to the boat, and I’ll not have to climb that bridge Ever Again! I’ll be straight onto tarmac too over there so the wellies can be consigned to history – unless of course I feel the need for a bit of welly wearing.

So the roof and bow are packed with outdoor paraphernalia…

Proper pikey.

Hobo starts first turn and ‘Harbourmaster’ John unties the ropes, shoves us out and perches on the roof. We are off. Yay!

Through the lock…

Which has been set for us by Jo…

Then hang a left, a quick zig and a zag, to put us on the little backwater that is to become Hobo’s new home. I ease expertly (still got it) onto the berth where John ties us up again. We’re in.

My new next door neighbour is there to greet me making me feel instantly welcome. I have to say that this mini chug along the river was so enjoyable it made me want to get cruising again. Well it has been two years since Hobo went anywhere, largely due to the plague and first mate being stuck in South Africa.

Next year…

I free Foxy who has been locked inside to prevent him doing a runner on the way round. He’s fine, if a little bemused, and reluctant to leave the confines of his boat…

But curious. Well he is a cat. A boat cat at that.

Time to unpack the boat…

Something, it transpires, that takes a lot longer than it did to pack. Funny that.

I’ve been here a few days now and am still striving to get organised. That said, I’m enjoying being here and am inspired to improve on this already pleasant outdoor space. I have a clear vision of how I want it to be – pots and plants and a rocking chair for the deck being top of the list.

I’m already feeling the benefits of being close to the car park – for the first time ever I managed to get my shopping from car to boat in one go. And that’s priceless.

So this tiny trundle to the ‘other side’, that started out as a purely practical head choice designed to make my life easier, has actually done me the power of good. I feel like me again. Always did like new beginnings. I’m loving it here already.

This relocation has not only moved Hobo, Foxy and me to a new setting, it has moved me to resume my writing. It has rekindled my creativity, which has been sadly lacking of late, and I’m loving that.

Huge thanks to all who have helped me out – past and present – you know who you are and I salute you. It is my privilege to live among you. The boating community is a wonderful place where the lovely folk are happy to help and company is always available; something I have come to know during my 15 years of living afloat.

Feeling good, so calls for a feel-good song. Enjoy…

Back soon,

BB xx

Tags: boating, cats, narrowboat, nature, outdoors, photography

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Categories Uncategorized

Life as we know it..

11 Apr

I’ve agonised about the way this post should go, not wanting to add to the never-ending torrent of comment, opinion and speculation that surrounds this threat we all face: Coronavirus. There, I’ve said it.

Not only that, but I set this blog up to be a feel-good place, where I could share some of the highlights of my chosen lifestyle, and hopefully brighten the reader’s day a little by sharing some of the delights (and occasional, amusing catastrophes) that go with living on the water. It’s somewhere I can showcase my snaps of stunning skyscapes…

and sunsets…

The countryside…

Even the city sometimes…

And, of course, the ever-present and wonderful wildlife that abounds on and around the waterways – all set to a soundtrack of birdsong.

But in truth, I can’t not mention it. It has had such a profound impact on life as most people know it. A scary new world where time stands still and hugs and socialising are a distant memory. A world where few cars clog up our roads and pollution is at an all-time low. A new quiet world. A world that is learning to think of and care for others and appreciate those who go the extra mile. BB salutes you. A world where one can take time to reflect and simply be.

Welcome to my world dear reader. Being an aspiring writer and living alone, my world is by nature a solitary one at times, where much of my socialising is done via the internet. So much of the current imposition doesn’t affect me greatly. I am fortunate to live in a super place among a fabulous community but feel for those who aren’t so lucky.

Right now, you find me at my outdoor work space…

Enjoying the sunshine…

Scary.

Where the cat and hose coil up…

And daisies decorate the grass.

I get regular visitors…

Thank goodness for this wonderful weather. It goes a long way to cheer us and keep away the gloom that could so easily creep into our heads.

We are all learning to adapt and embrace new challenges on a daily basis. Even my charmed lifestyle has been compromised, being deemed at high risk of serious illness or worse if I catch this thing, and am beginning a strict 12 week stay at home regime. But how hard can that be? My marvellous neighbours are rallying by fetching shopping and generally being there for me.

I, for one, hope this new-found community spirit will prevail and that we will all become stronger, wiser and more compassionate as a consequence. Hopefully society will adapt to the new normal too and that common sense will become a little more common, though I’m not holding my breath.

But for now, my friends, try to enjoy the moment. Be still and make the most of these times. Many will have learned new skills and knocked off a lot of those jobs that have forever been on the to do list, or simply enjoyed having time to relax and reflect.

I will miss the cruising though…

Stay safe xx

Tags: boating, isolation, photography, spring, sunset

Comments 4 Comments
Categories Canals, Countryside, Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, sundown, Uncategorized, writing

Boatlife..

29 Jan

Greetings on this joyful January day.

You might be wondering how I am getting on in my new home on the River Lark where I have a super and secluded home mooring…

So I thought I’d tell you a story – bit of a day in the life type of thing.

Every now and again, I do a physical Tesco shop, which serves to remind me why I normally do a click and collect and end up vowing never again! Today was one of those days; I was feeling quite spritely and it was bright and sunny when I set off to Newmarket. But when it came to loading up the car (with 50% more stuff than when I shop online) it was bucketing down. No covered area like there is at the click and collect. I got wet.

Lucky for me, it had stopped by the time I got home to do the long trek to the boat, and for long enough for me to get the coal in. Just. I’ve a system now for transporting stuff from car to boat, boat to car and rubbish to the bins, having bought a cheapo plastic “rollacart”… which miraculously can be hauled over the bridge with contents inside. My more beefy garden trolley, more suited to grass and mud… that I’ve left the other side is then filled and dragged to Hobo, complete with lightweight cart. Seems to work well.

There is a long way round, which avoids the bridge, taking you through the lodges and reed beds, over which starlings do that fabulous murmuration thing. When I witness this for myself, I will share it with you here. When it’s not boggy, one of the chaps here runs a buggy (sort of golf cart on steroids) round this way, so heavy stuff like coal and gas can be more easily delivered to your boat. Brilliant. Or, the local coal merchant will deliver to the nearby lock and load the bags onto the roof of your boat, but also only when conditions favourable.

As for physical shopping, despite spending more and taking more time and effort, it does give the opportunity to browse the clothing and electrical sections, as well as other delights on offer. F’rinstance, my dietician has urged me to buy those individual dessert pots in order to gain weight – I’m struggling with this due to an auto-immune condition I have, which, after a lifetime of battling weight gain, I am now a real skinny Minnie and borderline mal-nourished. Bizarre.

They do one called little pots of joy, which is crème egg that you can eat with a spoon and not get covered in chocolate. It’s good but not even close to the ice cream version. So Hobo’s fridge is well-stocked with that one, as well as various mousses and trifles! If I could get to my scales, I’m sure I will have gained more weight. In fact, I’ve been advised to eat all sorts of rubbish that I’ve previously avoided like the plague and give anything vaguely healthy the big swerve. Bit of a win-win really.

So why can’t I get to my scales? Well, Hobo went wonky and, one morning as I got out of bed, found the floor was wet. Water underneath in the bilge. A lot of it. Bugger. Apart from wet feet, I struggled to walk with the boat at such an angle and kept bumping into the walls. And that’s before I had a drink!

I put out the distress call, which my old mate Steve swiftly answered. We checked the usual suspects – stern gland and weed hatch, both ok. He soon had the boat level again (stuck on a ledge after water levels had dropped) and re-tied with the back end further out to avoid getting hung up again. Looks untidy but she is floating free, which is preferable to looking like I know how to moor a boat properly, but leaning over.

Not sure where the water came from but Steve thinks it’s rain water – we have had a lot and my back doors are anything but watertight. I’ll have her hauled out for blacking come Spring so can get the hull checked at the same time, though fairly sure that’s not the problem.

Anyway, Steve’s pump chucked out most of the water, leaving me to aqua-vac daily as the water slowly trickles to the back – takes a week or so to get it all. Then it’s a case of stuffing newspaper into the inspection hatch (which was cut into the bottom of my wardrobe when I inadvertently filled the bilge by overflowing the water tank – a breather tube issue) to absorb any further moisture. As it’s raining again I’ll soon see if any more gets in.

All of this meant I had to empty the floor of said wardrobe and engine room (a useful space for storage when not cruising), deposit stuff in the bedroom and bathroom – hence blocking the way to my scales, plus all sorts of other items I need to access daily). Not to mention making moving around somewhat tricky and upsetting any order I normally enjoy. Feng shui is all to pot!

Don’t know about you but, the minute I let the tiniest bit of disorder into my world, everything deteriorates into chaos, quick quick. Obviously, this is a whole lot more noticeable, with space at such a premium, in a 47×7 foot-ish area. It’s not that I’m a neat freak or anything, but it’s purely practical to be tidy, unless you enjoy falling over things/moving half of your possessions to get to the other half.

But that’s boatlife and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

In other news: my trusty stove is burning 24/7, keeping me snug and warm and my new neighbours are great. Not that I’ve met all of them yet, but I suspect my semi-hibernation has a lot to do with that. Looking forward to spring when, no doubt, we’ll all be outdoors a lot more, making us more visible and sociable. Seems like a great community.

Looking a little spring-like on board…

The hyacinths fill the boat with a delightful sweet scent.

I’m gradually finding my way around, now not totally reliant on Google maps and confident to navigate my own way to at least a couple of destinations. Hobo is moored in Cambridgeshire, across the river is Suffolk and Norfolk is fairly close too. There’s some lovely towns nearby: Ely, Cambridge, Newmarket, Downham Market, King’s Lynn, Bury St. Edmunds to name but a few. Still much exploring to be done. I imagine there’s some good walking hereabouts too – I’ll let you know come the spring and warmer weather.

I have a postbox…And a birdbox…And a butcher within walking distance where all produce is reared right here on the farm. Adjacent is a stall where fresh, local veg is available for sale, by way of an honesty box.

The marina here is on an island where Muntjac roam and swans, ducks and geese abound. There’s nothing quite like being aboard listening to swans smack along their river runway in order to take off , hear the geese chattering or the mad quacking of the duck barmy army.

I’m impressed with the manager here and have found her most helpful and accommodating. So thank you for that, much appreciated.

RAF Mildenhall is close and, as a bit of a plane spotter, is home to some interesting aircraft, such as the Osprey…

Google image

Also big bombers, fighter jets and so on. So, unlike being under Stansted’s flightpath (as I was before) at least there’s something good to look at. And it’s nowhere near as busy; little night or weekend flying.

Foxy has settled really well and loves his new home. He’s a true boatcat, happy to walk the gunwales…And plank…

Though this now superseded by something safer, sturdier and more fitting…Courtesy of the on site maintenance man. Well pleased with this and sure it’s saved me a dunking.

Foxy helps me get the coal in, fill up the water tank and other boatie chores, as well as charging around, jumping on the roof, climbing trees…

And decimating the local vermin population…

He’s currently taking an interest in what I’m up to right now…Oh, and he’s been in the river a couple of times already…

He’s also starting his own blog…

boatcat.blog.

As soon as he can get his head around setting it up, the cat lovers among you will be able to see boatlife from his point of view…

I’m guessing that will be riveting.

Tags: boating, cats, feng shui, photography

Comments 6 Comments
Categories Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, Uncategorized

Moving on…

18 Sep

Comes a time when the right thing to do is to move on. And that’s where I found myself earlier this year. Not only had I been at my mooring for eight years – a long, long time for a dedicated liveaboard water gypsy – but I felt I needed a physical move to take me to a better place.

In April, I was at rock bottom. I don’t want to get into all that here, but suffice to say that four months of hospital/rehab/care home all took their toll. I had a lot of time to think during this period and set the wheels in motion to find a new home for Hobo, Foxy and me.

I’ve always thought I’d return to the Great Ouse system at some point. I love the Fens, the big skies, big rivers and good people. Some years back, I’d visited a friend at a super marina on the River Lark where he had a wonderful river mooring. This came to mind again now and I knew that this was where I wanted to be.

You got to get lucky sometimes, and a quick phone call confirmed a similar spot was available. And, by all accounts, this is rare. People tend to stay put and spare berths are like rocking horse shit.

After a visit to confirm all was as I remembered, it was affordable for me, and agreement from the management to take me on, I verbally agreed the terms and had transferred the required deposit by the end of the day.

Now I had something to plan for and look forward to. But could I really make this happen? Whilst my health has improved considerably, I’m still not 100% nor ever so strong, and no way could I take on this cruise by myself. I needed someone to take over when I was flagging, possibly doing the bulk of the driving and certainly working the locks.

There really was only one candidate of course – John. I can count the people who I’d trust to skipper Hobo on the fingers of one thumb. Would he be willing/able?

I’m delighted to say he was.

So, on the late August bank holiday weekend, we embarked on this cruise of 233 miles, 2 furlongs and 170 locks. Some of which we shared with the locals…Here is how they work. In you go…

Close the gates, wind the paddles and fill/empty…And up comes Hobo…Lock keepers take pride in their gardens…

But out on the river it’s also delightful…

With foraging aplenty.

There was the odd swing bridge…And tunnel…And yes, there really is light at the end.

Locks on the Nene and Ouse have guillotine gates, usually electrified but some…Still aren’t, meaning that wheel has to be turned around and around and around forever, to raise or lower the gate. And that’s why I drive the boat!

Our route took us down the rivers Stort and Lea, along the Hertford Union and Regents Canal through London and up the Grand Union to the Northampton arm. Then it’s on to the River Nene, through the Middle Levels, the tidal crossing from Salter’s Lode to Denver Sluice, onto the Great Ouse and finally the Lark.

Hobo loves the big rivers… As do we. You can almost feel her joy at being in deep water…Not to say she didn’t perform well when ditch crawling…She most certainly did – but couldn’t really get up a head of steam, so progress feels slow.

But clearly it wasn’t. It took us just twelve days, which is no mean feat. Dawn to dusk cruising largely, often not mooring up till last light… Hobo’s engine never missed a beat… With no mechanical issues/stoppages/disasters. Extraordinary really, as she doesn’t get a lot of attention – apart from when John is around. He checks the levels and tightens/dresses the belts as necessary, as well as all the other tasks like greasing etc. One day I’ll have her shone up/painted to look like those engines that belong to the real enthusiasts.

We managed 27 locks in one day! Luckily, we often managed to lock through with another boat… Really lightens the load – me on the tiller holding her in the lock, while John and at least one other set of muscles set to; winding the paddles and pushing the balance beams. It’s also a great opportunity for the drivers to have a natter – I learned of a choice mooring on the Nene this way, one we’d never have found. It was up a little cut, which opened into a basin and (you guessed it) was next to a pub.

We fed the swans there…John and I both hugely enjoyed the journey. As each day passed, I was improving physically and emotionally as I mentally moved on from the bad place I was in during the first half of the year. The cruise itself was doing me good.

We did take a break for a couple of days, conveniently moored at the Ship Inn on Brandon Creek… John had managed to hurt his back and needed to rest it. Ironically, it was doing a good deed by helping out a 70 footer when its inexperienced crew got themselves into a bit of a pickle.

Some random pics along the way.

Little Venice I think…Horrors of duckweed on the London canals…Looks so walkable on.

Moored on a towpath somewhere…Hobo nose in as we manoeuvre her to tie to that tree for a brief stop on the Nene…The beautiful church at Fotheringhay…Where we moored for the night and met a dear friend for a pie and a pint at the village pub. Has to be done.

Come Tuesday, we pushed on, making it to my new home a little before sunset…So, here we are in situ…

Where Foxy walked the plank…The views are to die for…How’s that..!

My garden is private, perfect and full of potential…Though it needs a little work – I’ve much I want to do here but all in good time. Boarding by plank isn’t ideal but there’s a maintenance man here, who I’m told will build me a platform/small jetty.

I’m full of ideas and inspiration and can see how I want it in my mind’s eye. I’ll update you as it all comes together. But it already feels like home (Foxy thinks so too) and I shall enjoy adding those little touches that will make it truly mine.

First step is to collect all my shoreside paraphernalia from the old mooring. My brother, who is now a lot closer geographically, plus his mate with a van, helped me with this on Monday.

I love new beginnings. And I love my new home.

Cruising with a cat certainly added another dimension, Foxy delighting in his new-found boat cat status…Worrying us at times with his innate curiosity and exploring spirit, but always entertaining and returning to his boat home.

But I think that’s another post…

PS: I didn’t get to say goodbye to all my old friends and neighbours, so if you’re among those I missed…goodbye and good luck!

Also huge thanks to those who were there for me during my darkest hours this year. It meant a lot xx

Tags: Cruising, Grand Union, Great Ouse, Lark, Lea, London canals, Nene, Stort

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Categories Canals, Narrowboating, photography, Rivers, Uncategorized

Foxtrot Oscar..

11 Aug

No, not the slang for a rather rude form of go away, but the full name of my new companion.

As a regular reader, you’ll know (and if not you soon will) that I’ve been hankering after a cat. Not just any old cat you understand, but a ship’s cat. One that cruises with me and Hobo, and one that is good for a cuddle.

So here he is…

What a cutie!

Better known as Foxy, he is all of the above. Well he’s shaping up that way, jumping from the bow of my boat to the stern of my neighbour’s. He is fearless. He runs along Hobo’s gunnels, jumps on the roof and, as yet, has avoided a dunking.

But don’t be fooled by his furry loveliness. He is also responsible for decimating the local vermin population, his oh so sharp claws making short work of it. And that’s a good thing, I just wish he wouldn’t bring me the evidence by way of little gifts.

But Boatbird deals with this, as she does with the cat’s hairs everywhere, the constant ‘need’ for food, stamping on my keyboard, wrecking my furniture and the irresistible urge to destroy my sleep patterns.

He seems to come to life at silly o’clock and wants to play. He will headbutt my chin, rub his wet little nose on my face and mew relentlessly for attention. Not to mention messing up my duvet with muddy footprints…

But he makes me smile, and comes a time when you have to weigh up what is important and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s all worth it for the comfort, companionship and affection he gives. Who wants to live in a show home anyway? Not that that’s an option when you live aboard on the riverbank.

Naturally, being a cat, he is curious and dives inside whenever I open the fridge or a cupboard door…

He can also be pretty chilled…

Usually finding a spot where my feet or my bum want to be. We fight for my chair, he getting cosy the minute I stand up and complaining bitterly when I sit on him.

I’ve modified the vent in the door by way of a cat-flap…

Works well. I like that he can come and go. And by that I mean go in the great outdoors, so I don’t have to provide a litter tray. There’s precious little space on board for such, and besides, I hate them.

He is shortly going to be tested, me about to throw him a curved ball. Boatbird is planning a little jaunt downriver to see how he copes with cruising. A little acclimatisation exercise. I fear he’ll wander off and get lost or be totally freaked by the moving boat and fall in – or worse.

In truth, I think he’ll love it and turn out to be a natural, probably tying the ropes, manning the tiller and working the locks before too long.

How cool would that be?

Hmmm. Not looking likely.

Tags: boat cat, boating, cats, ship's cat

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Categories Canals, Narrowboating, Rivers, Uncategorized

Talking Toilets..

4 Mar

By that I don’t mean a chatty carzy that natters to you while you do the business. Mind you, in this day and age, there’s probably a smart loo available, amassing statistics and analysing your waste. Perhaps even an Alexis-type voice advising you to take it steady on the beans/brussels etc. What a dreadful thought..!

No, today I will be blogging about bogs, so if you are at all squeamish/appalled by the thought, look away now.

When I bought Hobo, some thirteen years ago, she came complete with a Thetford Porta Pottie, which I vowed to replace with a pump-out as soon as possible. A wise old boater told me to live with it a while and let things evolve. So I did and, until a couple of weeks ago, I was still using the same method, albeit a more up to date version – the Qube.

It’s largely been satisfactory and, all this time I’ve lived aboard, I’ve heaved the full tank off the boat, lugged it to a suitable tipping out place, learned how to hold my breath for as long as it takes to empty, rinsed out and cleaned. And repeat. On average, it would probably take about 5 days to refill (less when I’ve had company) so multiply that up and I’ve probably performed this task the best part of a thousand times. Scary.

The emptying process is even more of a schlep when the yard here is muddy – like right now – and frankly I’d been struggling with it. (Three months living in a house in South Africa with the flush fairy probably spoiled me somewhat.) Then one day, my neighbour invited me onto her boat to see her latest purchase… a composting loo made in the USA by C-head.

She’s often seen me trudge, grim-faced and with toilet in tow, in all weathers and when conditions underfoot guarantee a sense of humour failure – not that there’s ever a good time to undertake this dreaded task. She thought perhaps something similar would be a good idea for me too. I was given a no-holds-barred guided tour of her facility, with explicit explanations on its workings, cost and told how easy it was to empty. (I think she’s on commission.)

To non-boaters, this may seem a little strange but, trust me, it is quite the norm for boatie folk. And, as boaters will know only too well, when two or more of us get together, it is where the conversation ends up. Always. We do talk a lot of shite.

It’s something I’d been considering for a while, but more or less dismissing it, thinking it complicated and/or messy. Not so. Boatbird isn’t easily impressed but on this occasion I was. Very. I saw with my own eyes how simple yet stylish it was…

Screen_Shot_2016-03-28_at_7.48.53_PM.png

Image courtesy of c-head website

and how it fitted into the confines of a boat bathroom. And there was no smell at all. This would be perfect for me: no more heavy lifting, costly chemicals or worrying, when out cruising, where the next usable Elsan disposal point is.

I was so sold on the idea, that when I got back to Hobo, I was straight on the wonderweb at http://www.c-head.com placing my order. OK, it’s not cheap and, given recent expense, I should have restrained myself but it was such a no-brainer. No more dates with gross and grotty tip-outs, resulting in a happier and more eco-friendly boatbird. Anyway, that’s what credit cards are for. And I am so worth it.

The actual cost was: 599.00 + 150.00 p&p = 749.00 USD. At the current exchange rate this equated to 594.31 GBP. What I hadn’t accounted for was the import duty of £161.62, which brought the total up to £755.93 and was only made aware of this when Parcelforce notified me they would be holding on to my new loo until I paid this to them. Bugger.

It did piss me off a bit. I still don’t think that going green should cost me but that’s greedy, grabbing governments for you.

Fast forward to now and I’ve been (very happily) living with the c-head composter for a couple of weeks. It is every bit as good as I’d hoped – and more. Its footprint is actually smaller than that of the old portaloo but a little taller, which is a good thing. It looks good, dead easy to clean, there’s no smell and it’s a doddle to empty. It does come complete with a venting kit which, as my neighbour said, is really not necessary.

It is also easy to move, which is vital for my set up as it sits in front of my washing machine…

so needs shifting on wash days. A kit is supplied to fix to the floor/wall but this is not for me. Seems sturdy enough without anyway.

It works so well because liquids and solids are directed to separate containers…

because, apparently, it is when the two mix that the stink happens. Wee is funnelled to a plastic five litre bottle (easily disposed of under a hedge) or, if diluted 5 parts water to 1 part urine, can be used on the garden. It’s a high nitrogen fertiliser so very good for plants. I find this needs emptying every two or three days but will need to be more often for two or more users. Obviously.

Poo goes to a plastic bucket, into a measured amount of composting medium and then, with lid back down, churned by the handle supplied…

Clever. I’m using sawdust (free and readily available) but many other types will work: animal bedding, cat litter etc.

Extra medium can be added if necessary – when diarrhoea strikes or wee is misaimed. It is recommended that men be seated to avoid the latter. You can put toilet paper into the compost but this will fill it far sooner, so it is suggested this be placed in a separate bin for later disposal. (Mine gets burned promptly on the wood stove so really not a problem.)

When this is used up (you know when because cranking becomes harder) it’s fine to double bag and dispose of with the rubbish. Or, line up a suitable place outdoors and start a heap – should be fully composted in a few months and ready to spread on the garden.

I’ve emptied it once now – simple enough – and pleasantly surprised by the scent of forest floor. Doesn’t look like what it is and not at all noxious. It really is clever.

Another neighbour, into all things organic, wants to use it to grow mushrooms in. I’m thinking this could be marketed – extract of Annie – so the mushrooms are bound to be magic!

Tell you what was magic; that last time I tipped out the old camping loo, knowing it would be the last time – EVER!

So good, I did a little dance. Right there and then.

Tags: boating, composting toilets, human waste disposal

Comments 4 Comments
Categories Canals, Narrowboating, Rivers, Uncategorized

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