Signing off for the rest of the year.

Hello folks.



It's nearly November and we've brought Moonstone into the Saltisford Arm for the winter.

From now until March we'll only be floating out on an occasional (very) short trip; for the delectation of various visiting friends ... from as far as British Columbia and South Australia!

Since last May we have cruised: 844 miles of canals and rivers plus 37 miles of the North Sea; negotiated 573 locks (and over ten miles of tunnels!); visited castles and cathedrals, pubs and restaurants; met countless good-natured people; seen widely differing panoramas and vistas; and explored a great deal of our own country which we've never before encountered ... all from a point of view rarely experienced by visitors and tourists.

Now; before we hunker down for the non-cruising season; I'm adding the final episode - for this year - of Watery Peregrinations. For those of you who want to catch up from the earlier reports, just click on the appropriate month in the 'Blog Archive' at the r/h top of each page, or click on 'Older Posts' down at the bottom of each page.

Thanks to those of you who've written with comments or queries. Lyn and I will be back 'on the cut' in March; and I'll send a heads-up before we cast off!

Remember ... sometimes the light at the at the end of the tunnel ... 

is, actually, something coming the other way!

Good wishes to all of you. Tom.

Back to ‘narrow’ locks!

Apropos of nothing: we observed this in the cafe at Foxton Locks ... 

 ... and that's too good for them!

For the past couple of years; and for most of this Watery Peregrinations expedition; we’ve been experiencing ‘wide’ locks. ‘Wide’; in this instance; means locks about 14’ or wider, though – for the most part – still around 72’ in length. As Moonstone has a beam of barely 7’, wide locks are handy for two boats to share a lock, and imperative for a ‘wide-beam’ boat (i.e. wider than 7 feet). However; when there is just a single narrowboat negotiating a wide lock, the inconveniences become apparent. Rather than being encompassed, snugly, by the wall of the lock just inches on either side; the turbulence of the moving water requires that a line be secured on the shore – and attended to – whilst the boat rises and falls and attempts to drift sideways in the lock chamber. Additionally; the lock-gates (doors) are much larger on wide locks, hence much heavier for us to manoeuvre.

Nearly all of the locks in the southern part (England, South of Birmingham) of the canal and river system are of the wide variety and are – at least by your narrator and his travelling companion - not so well favoured as the narrow variety. On the way down the Northampton Flight; between the Grand Union Canal (Main Line) and the River Nene; all 17 locks were ‘narrow’; though the locks on the Great Ouse system where; in some cases; enormous. Likewise; all the locks on the Foss Dyke Navigation, The River Trent and its tributaries and, latterly, the Grand Union Canal; have been wide locks. We were surprised, and delighted, to arrive at Foxton to find that the flight was comprised of narrow locks.

Foxton was a famous (infamous?) ‘choke point’ on the system, in the 19th. and early 20th. century; by reason of the 10 locks being a mere 7’ 4” wide and arranged as a ‘staircase’ (immediately out of one chamber and into the next; with no passing facility.) This arrangement was hugely inconvenient, and inefficient; so much so, that the canal company devised a scheme to use (then) cutting-edge technology to by-pass the flight. This entailed the construction of a steam-driven contraption called the Foxton Inclined Plane to haul boats up the hill. The technology was, sadly, TOO 'cutting-edge' and did not live up to expectations. Consequently; it operated for a mere 12 years. Now that barely a skeleton of the original remains, this video of a model representation is the best illustration of its workings. Of course; there is an active society to re-install a full-size, working replica!!!

The horses which towed the canal-boats are memorialized in bronze

There are 3 tunnels on this stretch of the canal ... here's a shot of one ... 

There have been three tunnels over the past two days of travelling; totalling over two miles!

Ta-ta for now.

The season of mists and mellow fruitfulness ...

 ... to quote from: Ode to Autumn; by John Keats.

We're still enjoying fabulous autumnal weather -broken by just one day of rain (This is Britain, after all!); with foggy mornings giving way to sunny afternoons; or still, quiet mornings, with waters like mirrors.

I realise that you've seen plenty of castles in these reports ... but mooring right below the walls of this one, in Newark was quite special.

We're through Leicester (pronounced: lester); a singularly unprepossessing conurbation;

and our next objective is the famous Foxton Locks complex. More about that next time.

Hope you are all well and happy ... we are!

To Lincoln ... and beyond!

In my (childish) mind, Lincoln is inextricably linked to Robin Hood (The Merry Men wore 'Lincoln Green', y'know); and thence to Nottingham. Coincidentally; that's the route we've just taken. We're moored in Nottingham, but most of this edition relates to our exploration of the lovely old city of Lincoln. The images in the previous edition of this (b)Log were all taken by Tony O'Neill; I, having managed by dint of unbelievable prestidigitation. to erase all the photos I had taken on my own camera!!!  (Read: 'finger stupidity'.)

You may note that - unusually, for a Brit - I rarely comment on the weather. However ... the past week has been glorious ... most un-English weather. Quietly misty mornings, morphing into cloudless skys and mere mild zephyrs of breezes. I'll stop now and go for a lie-down. Canals, rivers, and all waterways, seem irresistibly attractive to our arachnid friends; a condition with which Lyn (a life-long arachnophobe) has been learning to come to terms. Proof of her acclimatization is that her finger was pressing the shutter for this first picture - taken on a beautiful, dew-laden morning ... 

Lincoln is a fabulous exemplar of Middle ages England and its architecture. Viz ...

LINCOLN CASTLE

... AND OPPOSITE ... THE ENTRANCE TO THE CATHEDRAL

N.B. the 'cloudless sky', about which I waxed lyrical.

THE METICULOUSNESS OF THE MEDIEVAL MASONS IS BREATHTAKING

As a long-time fan of Ken Follett's: PILLARS OF THE EARTH; I was enthralled with this opportunity. (8-part TV mini-series is highly recommended.) However; my admiration for the engineering splendour of flying buttresses was crushed when I learned that

 these were solely cosmetic!

However; my appreciation of the era was salvaged by our perambulations around the this photogenic remnant of a bygone age ... still a living part of a modern city.

And so ... onward up the Fossdyke navigation - only one thousand, eight hundred years old - towards the mighty (by British Standards) River Trent, Newark, and Nottingham ... next time.

Now ... where was I?

Apologies for the hiatus in the story of the voyage. Since last I posted, Lyn and I have been over to a festival in Holland, and the wonderful (thanks for the gig, Dick!) Bromyard Folk Festival.

During those times Moonstone was parked - sorry: moored - in marinas; awaiting her true calling of floating her lazy owners hither and yon. I say 'lazy', because the fens of Norfolk and Cambridgeshire (and lately, Lincolnshire) are famously flat; thusly requiring few locks; the operation of which - whilst on actual canals - keeps us fit and trim.

Anyway ... in the spirit of an adventure even more intrepid (a ship upon which I served, at one time!) than venturing through The Pool of London, I had been suggesting to Lyn that; rather than retrace our course (boringly) back through the fens to Peterborough and Northampton, and thence to the Grand Union Canal; we might contemplate taking our boat out to sea, heading from Kings Lynn; across The Wash; over to Boston, in Lincolnshire. Upon consulting our underwriters, Lyn was devastated to learn that we were, indeed, insured for such a major passage across tidal waters. Consequently; the tides being at last in our favour; last Friday dawned bright and clear and we presented ourselves at Denver Sluice, (mostly) prepared for the transit to high-tide on the River Great Ouse.

DENVER SLUICE ... and not a Rocky Mountain to be seen!

Soon the tide turned and, following our pilot: Daryl Hill (aboard the incredibly ugly narrowboat: IRENE); we avoided the numerous mud-banks, over the 16 miles to Kings Lynn; and sometimes achieved almost 7mph., assisted by the ebbing tide. During the approximately 30 mile crossing, we passed sandbanks covered with basking seals, whilst being escorted by several dolphins, and hailing a large, anchored, merchantman. The crossing was relatively smooth, 'though the breeze bestirred itself during the final couple of hours of our six-hour crossing to the the River Withey; but all members of the crew managed to maintain their 'sea-legs' ... even your chronically sea-sick author!

Crew member: Tony O'Neill, having lost the canal, but not the plot! Note the view behind ...

... and ahead!

That's IRENE, fine on the port bow ... I told you she was ugly!

As the light begins to fade ... 

... we proceed up The Withey; looking for ... 

... Boston Stump, through the encroaching gloom.

Boston Stump is better appreciated by the light of a setting sun.

So; we survived yet another hazardous transit in our reliable 'maid of all work'. Though not designed for such deep-ocean (sort of) duties, Moonstone has, once again, borne us to safe haven. Now ... onward to Lincoln! More anon.

Oh, yes ... Ely!

I quite forgot to write about Ely ... and Oliver Cromwell.

Oliver Cromwell (1599 – 1658) lived in Ely for some considerable time, whilst he was the Member of Parliament for a constituency which encompassed Cambridge.  He was a very active and effective M.P., but it was only with the onset of the English Civil War (1642 - 1649) that his innate aptitude for military tactics and strategy blossomed. Parliament appointed him the first: 'Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland and Ireland'. His onetime family home is now an excellent museum, and the local Tourist Information Office.

The small city of Ely (denoted as such, because it has a cathedral; unlike Noth America; where the criterion for such designation is ownership of a traffic light!) has a long history; from the first millenium (C.E.), when it was small community, established on an outcropping of clay; just a scant few feet higher than the many miles of surrounding marsh and fen-land. From all directions of approach, the cathedral can be seen at a great distance ...

and it certainly dominates the surrounding flat, low-lying ground.

The community is compact and charming; having managed to stave off much of modern development. Despite being in the centre of the city, the cathedral itself (used for the coronation scenes in the movie: The King's Speech) is almost hidden form view by the narrowness of the streets ... but once encountered is breathtaking.

As commonly found in Norman construction, from some angles it presents itself as much a defensible military structure, as a place of worship!

On the days we visited, the cathedral was being used as the venue for a film production, but impressive, nonetheless.

Whilst folks in the Middle Ages did not have access to ice-cream; nonetheless, local purveyors of the delicacy do their best to fit in with the surroundings!

The weather being clement, we availed ourselves of some of this vendor's wares!

More anon ...