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.