double yellows

double yellows

Email this entry | Print this entry Jan 25 2008, 12:35 PM

I never thought I would see the day when the river has a "no parking yellow line" painted on the side.

until I got home my impression was that the bend with the yellow line painted on the pilings was so people could see the bend more easily.
In fact I got home last night to find a message taped to my door telling me to move my boat.

There is nothing at the side of the river saying I can't moor there, no written sign I mean... so I was quite surprised to see the message on my boat.

The canoe centre I am moored opposite has told me that BW requests people not to moor on the yellow line because the canoe centre has activities with young children??? WHAT?
Ive not heard such verbal bollocks in a while, the river is wide at the bend and since there is nowhere else to moor then I am moored to the nearest convenient spot where Im not obstructing anyone and not annoying anyone with my engine noise in the evening. It is afterall January still and I am one of the few boats that keep moving in this area.

I would move the boat if I had anywhere I could move to. everywhere is full at the moment.

Still, it's nice to feel welcome, yet again at a random stretch of river bank.

Entry the TO DO list

the TO DO list

Email this entry | Print this entry Jan 21 2008, 03:07 PM

once again it was time to move on, having spent two weeks at Victoria park in London we needed to move to a new mooring spot.

Living on a boat is never dull and rarely boring, there is always something to be done. Whether that is something you actually want to be doing is another matter.
Quick frankly, I was all up for a nice cosy weekend of cooking, faffing and sifting. Downsizing my stuff once again, because you can never have too few things. Minimalist is going to be my middle name. However this all had to wait as there was a "to do" list with my initials at the bottom.

Saturday stuff to do
- get up early
- cycle to regents street apple shop to get a computer fixed
- cycle back to the boat via a supermarket and stock up on food
- reverse the boat back to the waterpoint
- bail out my half sunken dinghy
- empty the poo-pot
- reverse through the lock
- turn at the bottom of the lock
- hang a sharp left into ducketts canal
- wizz through the 4 locks
- swing left onto the River lee and et voila, arrive Springfield/Hackney marshes at around 2pm
- cycle back to victoria park and collect my car
- spend a nice evening relaxing with a bottle of Bigga and a film

the reality was, well spot the difference...

- get up early? After a late night we scraped ourselves out of bed at around 9.30am, so much for early

- after faffing around with the bikes, by this time it was 10.15am and the rain had started into which we headed, with a strong headwind just for added pleasure.

- we arrived at the computer shop to be told we should have had an appointment to see someone, so we stood there, pretty moist and annoyed still with a faulty puter on regents street at 12.30 suddenly feeling hungry.

- on the way to unchain the bikes we accidentally wandered up to Carnaby Street and found a nice cafe and chowed down for 45 mins and mulled over the successful day we were having. I had a splendid hot dog (with onions).

- back to the bikes, the rain started yet again.

- We decided to leave the shopping trip until later when I needed to collect the car. So I carried a large empty bag, in the wind, all the way to the centre of London and back just for the fun of it - it's called resistance training.

- Back at the boat we see the neighbours and obviously stop and chat, the Man is offered the hand-me-round joint another boater has just rolled.

- Then followed the predictable chaos as I tried and failed to reverse the boat down seven lengths of other boats to the water point, my dinghy, full of two weeks worth of angel-piss was teetering around with just a few inches of free-board left, tied to the front of the boat.
The Man is still stoned and now munching away on any scraps of food left in the kitchen.
By the time we arrived at the lock, after a bit of stern hauling, it was close to 4pm

- at the water point we discovered that the taps dont have the same kind of thread as most of the others on the system so our hose doesn't fit. Well it didnt until we modified it with a good amount of PVC tape (no boat is complete without several rolls of PVC)

- I set about emptying the dinghy with a bailer, but am distracted by the Man (still a little giggly) taking the poo-pot to the elsan point... carrying it partly with the white handle, you know the one that operates the guillotine closure, the one that if you open it by accident means a whole world of sorrow at your feet, possible your legs and equally possibly in your face if theres a bit of back pressure...
once my voice came back down to sub-sonic levels of calmness after explaining the merits of carrying the case by its proper handle and NEVER ever EVER pull that white handle while the pot is full, I resumed bailing out the dinghy. ( thetford should colour the handle red to avoid confusion)

- water tank full, poo-pot empty, dinghy empty, lock emptied and boat hauled out and turned we finally set off "cruising" to our new mooring.

- down below I was sorting out the washing machine which had just finished, when I heard the engine change note, getting a little urgent, a bit more urgent, then quiet... then reversing quite urgently. I popped up to see what was happening and quickly see a grinning man looking sheepish at having missed the turn for Ducketts. a slight misjudgment led to a few minutes of maneuvering in the wind followed by a bit of a messy entrance to the link canal, followed by more requests from the Man for chocolate bars and a bottle of beer.

- three locks flew by in no time and before we knew it we were at Hackney Wick. And then we realised we were going quite slow...

- standing at the side at the junction of the river lee and ducketts I was holding the centreline while He went down the weedhatch with his favourite knife to remove the offending Argos bag and some pieces of tree. As I stood there, in the dark, in the mud, holding a cold wet rope, my trousers looking very secondhand after starting out clean that morning, I looked in through the large glass fronted apartments and remarked about how I imagined how many people were probably laying on their comfortable sofas in the warm and dry watching some shit on TV.

- a while later we arrived at Hackney marshes, 6pm, unloaded the bikes and cycled back the way we had just come to collect the car and go shopping. On the journey His bike got a puncture so we had to walk the rest of the way. Finally back at the car and loaded up with bikes we trundled off to do some food gathering. By the time we got home after walking back from the car with two bikes (one with a flat tyre), three very heavy shopping bags it was 9pm.
Once again my mind flashed back to those flashy but cosy looking apartments and thought, little do they know what's happening in the world outside their cocoons.

- after a couple of halibut steaks we sat down to watch a dvd, Death Proof and breathed a sigh of relief that tomorrow was finally going to be a day of faffing.

Entry madness at the park

madness at the park

Email this entry | Print this entry Jan 7 2008, 01:16 PM

After a brief stay at Springfield, Bow Locks ( arf arf) and Lime house, we moved up to Victoria park in london.

we cruised the ring from springfield all the way around without seeing more than two boats. However We have now discovered where they all congregate, and that is Victoria Park. That place is heaving with boaters, doubled up pretty much all the way. We managed to find a spot on the outside of a boat we were immediately warned not to walk on the side of and avoid the roof. This command came from a neighbour who helped us tie up.
The reason was not territorial but simply to avoid us falling through the boat!
It's quite a boaters atmosphere at the park, engines or gennies running, smoke billowing from chimneys, people wandering around chatting to each other, filling up with water, it's a hive of activity. feels a bit like a gypsy camp.

Quite a change from Limehouse which has very few visitor spaces and nobody seems to want to fight over them. I dont understand why there is so many people crammed into this one space at the park. We decided to go there mostly out of curiosity as we've never stayed anywhere so busy before.

We discovered fairly quickly after arrival why the boat next to us was single moored when she started her engine, it vibrated our boat more than our own engine. Noisy is one word to describe it. I have several others. I can say them at the top of my lungs because no one can hear me scream!

literary genius in the making

literary genius in the making

Email this entry | Print this entry Jan 2 2008, 02:14 PM

Narrowboating might be the death of me if I don't sell it soon.

Ok, so it's not actually for sale at the moment but it will be. I've had enough of this "living the dream", "life on the cut", "river gypsy lifestyle", and several other clichés.

Narrowboating, it's definitely not cricket. it's definitely not boating, it is definitely narrow though so I will give it that.

Im currently thinking of titles for my book, Ive searched and searched and I still cant find a book about the subject, which is currently forefront of my frontal creative imagination lobe. A humerous view from the side of those who in fact think narrowboats, roses and castles and rosie and jim should be consigned to the nearest largest skip available. (please note: I don't hate boating, far from it, I just hate narrowboating)

so far my working titles include:
great expectations ( already been done that so a no no)
narrowboat to hell ( a bit gloom and doom, i dont want to put readers off)
skip on water ( I like this one... )
the 4mph race (double entendre... race meaning people...geddit? )
sour dreams
when dreams turn bad!!! ( a take on the american police car chase tv programmes)

ive had loads more ideas but have forgotten them for the moment. Im happy to consider anyones suggestions.

Festivis

I love and hate this time of year, firstly I usually get a few days off work but then so does every bugger else which, lets face it can be a pain in the arse if you want to go anywhere or have a normal life.

secondly I dislike it because everyone keeps wishing me merry christmas... NO, I don't want a merry christmas, I dont want to drink to excess, eat to excess or do anything to excess and be merry, I don't want to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, I don't want to waste valuable trees on pointless cards wishing other people a merry christmas too. I wish people would stop spending money on pointless crap like if they don't have it their lives may as well be over because mum/dad/brother/sister/aunty will be sooooooo disappointed.

Does this make me a scrooge? No! especially here... and here is currently Springfield on the River Lee.

I was working on Monday the 24th so the Man moved the boat up the river a bit so we could leave our boat amongst other boats while we left it for a couple of days. Springfield is right next to Stamford Hill, Europes biggest Orthodox Jewish area. Which is great because they certainly don't go ramming mindless christian festivities down my neck. In fact I can go for a walk and not see a single sign of xmas, christmas, Christ Mass anywhere.

Ho ho ho... bloomin marvelous.

Now I already had my own little celebration on the 20th, 21st and 22nd, celebrating the winter solstice and now we have turned the corner of winter and are heading towards longer lighter days, surely an excuse to celebrate if ever there is one.

So on with the loving side of this time of year, I get time off work, and so does my family and friends. Which means I get to see them for the first time in months. Catching up with a best friend is priceless, spending some time with family, talking about all sorts of things, putting the world to rights is great.
Being in a house and having a king-size bed you would image is bliss, but for me I couldn't sleep because I had too much space around me.

Back on terra-not-so-firma, we are rocking and rolling in the wind, back in the small and cosy surroundings of our metal box ( aka narrowboat)
I feel more at home than ever. although I haven't changed my mind about selling the boat it has certainly re-affirmed how much I still want to live on a boat of some description.

I have a to-do list as long as my right foot so I shall be kept occupied for the remainder of the holidays. Although I am very easily distracted and there's a strong chance that in fact sod all will get done except for some high class faffing.

Bow Locks

Bow Locks

Email this entry | Print this entry Dec 17 2007, 07:28 PM

We moved from Limehouse up the cut a bit to Bow Locks.

The more I look at the name Bow Locks.... the more it looks like bowlocks...
you can see where im going with this I imagine...

yes, puerile mind at play I admit.

So Bow locks it is for the moment. I have no idea where we will be this time next week. Perhaps a little further north? perhaps a little bit more inside London village?

I saw a gorgeous boat in Limehouse on the pontoon where we filled up with water.
I am sooooo jealous. I want one. No, I want two, one for me and one for him so he doesn't make mine all messy with his socks and shoes everywhere.


(this is not the exact boat or exact same location, you dont get palm trees in limehouse bsin)

of course, we can all dream, so come the boat show in January at Excel, Im going to be there looking at everything I couldnt possibly afford ever in my lifetime without a lottery win.

Entry Cheshunt to Limehouse Basin

Cheshunt to Limehouse Basin

Email this entry | Print this entry Dec 5 2007, 06:57 PM

After two and a bit weeks of mooring alongside a friend the time came for us to move on to pastures new.

The kind gentleman Cliff (and his frequently visiting lady friend Dianne) on his boat Axe looked after Honey Ryder while I was on holiday and kept me company while I was home alone , he even lent me his axe, labelled Axe should anyone want to know what it was or what boat it came from...

Axe has ventured north up the river lee and Honey Ryder has ventured south of Cheshunt for the first time in weeks. Heading due south we arrived at Limehouse basin six hours after we set off. The day started with a heated discussion about, I forget what now, but the inevitable parting of ways started off early as I walked off down the tow path to speak to a neighbour and turn the lock around while He took the boat up to a turning point, smoking a cigarette furiously as he went. We swiftly made friends again when we met at the lock and the day was plain cruising all the way to Limehouse. We cruised into the darkness but as we neared Londinium the light pollution made progress very easy and we moored up at the nearest convenient spot, which just happened to be a 7 day mooring spot. Hurray!

now it seems we arrived just at the right time, as the weather turned to howling banshee gales and sideways rain. We had to devise a new fendering method to stop the boat from slamming against the quay side. The slamming effect was fraying the nerves of the dog who jumped out of bed at every boom or bang as the boat bounced off the wooden pilings. At first I thought he was too nervous to poo when I took him outside to do his natural business, but in fact its just the lack of grass that's putting him off.
yes toto, we're not in kansas anymore...

the concrete urban jungle is quite a posh one around Limehouse, to rent a flat around there you are looking at a minimum of £500 a week.

despite the concrete, the citiscape is a site to behold and ive been loving the past few days of being there. with real boats to look at through the window, ones with masts, ones with big engines, ones with beautifully shaped hulls, it makes me feel like Im really boating at last. The fact we've had some harsh weather has helped too, making the boat rock constantly, which is a real source of comfort to me. I love it when the boat rocks. Except then I remember I'm on a narrowboat and remind myself that they weren't designed to rock.

I think I might write a book, they say everyone has a book in them, well, mine might be a tongue in cheek look into the world of living on a boat, "if it floats, then surely its a boat?"

muppets

muppets

Email this entry | Print this entry Nov 30 2007, 06:17 PM

The muppets of the puppetry type, a guaranteed way to raise a smile and add a ray of sunshine to your day

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wMHcpMmV9g

oh and i found out last night that they caught the little muppet who broke into my neighbours car, thanks to a nice sample of blood he left on the door.

muppet.

Entry a one woman crime wave

a one woman crime wave

Email this entry | Print this entry Nov 27 2007, 10:38 AM

It seems as though this year is doomed to be a year of criminal activity. I feel like it is surrounding me at the moment.

At the start of the year, the boating year just after easter I had my bike nicked off the roof of the boat, that was a sign of things to come.
I bought a new bike and then two months later that was nicked too, this time from a secure carpark...
then came the car's time to be broken into and violated.

so you would imagine that the three things would stop there.

no, during my holidays my neighbours car got broken into in a supposedly safe carpark,
then a couple of days later Im sitting in the same car park fiddling with an annoying sticker on my car windscreen when one of the most beat up cars you can imagine came trundling into the car park full of young people, very suspicious looking I noticed the car had no plates and after some of the occupants disappeared off to the tow path they emerged and a few minutes later I saw them rummaging through a handbag that really didn't look like it belonged to them, so I reported it to the police once they left.
the next day my neighbours saw another car full of young people, again with no plates in th car park and that was also reported to the police...

So you can imagine my sheer delight when I arrived at my friends flat yesterday morning to discover she had been burgled while she was away for the weekend. thankfully the burgler hadnt trashed the place or even had time to clear it out completely but the feeling of being constantly violated by people who have no respect for others is starting to really get to me.

Its hardly suprising that as a nation we are becoming more and more protective over our land and our property, and are increasingly paranoid about strangers.

I dream of a day when we never need to use a lock and key again.

Entry A couple of weeks non-boating

A couple of weeks non-boating

Email this entry | Print this entry Nov 22 2007, 06:31 PM

As I near the end of my two weeks holiday, away from work, away from the man, away from all the infuriating commuting...
I have arrived the other side feeling so much energetic and full of life. I havent moved the boat at all, Im still moored alongside a friend who looked after it while I went away to the north, arriving back all I needed to do was run the engine and charge the batteries.

unfortunately with the boat along side me its created a really good metal barrier to my internet signal so tonight instead of propping the computer in a window in a very uncomfortable fashion Im sitting on the back deck with views of an amazing sky and a moon, almost full is reflecting nicely off the mirror calm water. my hands are seizing up nicely with the cold now.

This two weeks have been simply superb, I have met lots of other boaters, chatted to walkers and other passers by, so many of them seem amazed I would want to live on a boat in the winter. I remind them it's not winter yet but even so they can't understand it. I try to explain how hot it can get inside when the fire is lit, just this week I had a little experiment with coal in my fire and I nearly set myself on fire, such was the fury of the heat it was giving off. brilliant, except I was too hot all night once I went to bed. Ive never been too hot in a house before! At 5am it was still hotter than a rattlesnakes ass.

The neighbour lent me an axe to chop up some kindling, oh I want one of those now. an Axe... such good fun and great for venting any frustrations
not that I have any frustrations but it was fun anyway.

and so my holiday is drawing near to an end, I want to get as much done as possible before I have to collect the man from the airport on saturday morning. So much I had planned and so little has been done. I dont feel bad about doing practically bugger all, after all holidays are what you make of them.

tomorrow, if the mood takes me then i think I shall take the dog for a deep exploration of the local wildlife park. whats the point of mooring up slap bang in the middle of a watery wildlife haven if I dont at least go and have a look at what all the fuss is about.
although I could very easily end up by the seaside instead. yes, the seaside is a far better place to go than the local lake.

fish n chips, over looking the sea, with a dog begging at my side... now that is bliss.

clairvoyance, rose tinting and arid extra dry

clairvoyance, rose tinting and arid extra dry

Email this entry | Print this entry Nov 14 2007, 11:40 PM

Im on holiday, the kind of holiday where there are no plans, nothing to do but simply enjoy not working and having a chance to have some quality time with me.
Its been a few years since, in fact no, its been since NEVER that I had two weeks to do as I please, to do what I like, when I like because, just because.

I'm on my own here on Honey Ryder and for the first time since I've lived on the boat I feel like Im enjoying it. not because Im moving the boat, not because I even like the boat, but I think it's because it's feeling more homely and my energy has gone right back up there into the clouds since the grumpy "anti english" man I share my life space with (and most of my life energy it seems) has gone to france to do some professional faffing for two weeks and I imagine spend all the time being deliriously happy to be back in france!
I never realised a person could sap so much energy just by being in close proximity and being perpetually miserable. If I had known at the start maybe I would have called the boat, Les Miserables....

So my pecker is definitely lifted after just five days away from work and man and Ive just arrived back from a little visit to see my family so the world is looking rose tinted at the moment.

during those five days I have embarked on the start of a little bit of an educational journey. a spiritual one. well, i tried to make it spiritual but the cynical side of me kept telling the gullible side of me, "get a grip love it's just a load of old bollocks"
however, that didn't stop it being educational and Im keeping an open mind or at least trying to.
The start of this journey began by visiting a church. not any old regular christian church but a spiritualist one. it was a nice little place with purple walls and curtains and some gypsy trinkets around a small altar. Unfortunately I was left totally unconvinced by the Medium as she relayed her clairvoyance to some obviously emotionally needy people in the audience/congregation.
The atmosphere was nice though and the people seemed genuine enough. I think I need to see a bit more and visit some more churches or centres before I find the answers I am looking for.

meanwhile Im moored near to a very passionate couple, passionate and noisy. Im very happy for them, very happy indeed as they are quite a mature couple and seem to be putting the duracell bunny to shame. However it doesn't half make it seem like the Arid desert over here.

Just like marmite?

Just like marmite?

Email this entry | Print this entry Nov 8 2007, 09:55 AM

finally me and the man agree on something, we are definitely selling the Honey Ryder next year.
Well, I say selling, I mean trying to sell it next spring time ish.

First we have work to complete on the exterior paint, and an engine service or two to complete before then, plus fitting a new solid oak kitchen floor, renovate the kitchen and spruce up the showerroom.

That's where the agreement ends though. we need to complete the work, sell the boat and find a new living arrangement.

He doesn't like living in England, in fact he doesn't like quite a lot of things, and in particular he doesn't like my idea to live on a yacht by the coast.
He wants a piece of land to grow food and animals and generally live off the land as much as he can, having lots of "things" spread around him. Basically he needs space and a boat doesn't give him that luxury as there is absolutely no room to store any amount of crap you might want to hoard. and hoarding makes him very very happy.

I on the other hand am perfectly happy in a boat, the compact spaces, the odd shaped beds, cubby holes, ingenious methods of storage, the noise of a diesel engine, the clank of rigging on a mast, the sound of birds pattering over the roof, the plink plopping of the water on the sides, the watery reflections on the ceiling, the sensation of movement as you move around, the fact you can just untie and move on to another place, using a fraction of the water and electricity than you would in a house, not being tied to a piece of the earth someone has laid a claim to, yes living afloat on a boat is right up my alley, street and watery driveway. it tickles me pink, makes me go all warm inside when i think about it and doing it just puts the cherry right on the top of that cake that sits on the sliding hatchway i enjoy trying to avoid hitting my head on or swinging from when its open.

When I say boat, I mean BOAT, not a narrowboat. A narrowboat (In my opinion) is basically a caravan on water and the water is more of an inconvenience. I think I prefer mobile homes to narrowboats. at least with a mobile home you can really go places.

Its not often you read of someone saying they dont like narrowboats. I tried a google search to see if there was any more disillusioned people out there who put their thoughts down on an internet forum or blog for people to read.
There's nothing, I've found zero articles, jack schit, bugger all about people NOT liking narrowboats or canal boating.

What is it I don't like about narrowboats? It's hard to put my finger directly on the spot but I think mostly it's their limitations. They can't maneuver quickly, they are heavy, slow, cumbersome, ugly narrow metal boxes replicated over and over again, yes some have lovely paint jobs and I applaud owners who find new and interesting ways of painting things on their boats, but generally speaking they don't give the most pleasant of boating sensations.
it's an entirely limited boating experience.

So it seems I am alone in my dislike of the long metal boxes. perhaps that makes me a snob? I don't think so because, in fact the yachts I've looked at for a guide to price are roughly the same price or cheaper than most 57' narrowboats like Honey Ryder. That could be due to the fact HR has been kitted out from it's original build as a liveaboard and has liveaboard luxuries you wont find initially on a yacht? maybe a steel hull is more valuable than GRP hull? that doesn't explain why grp motorcruisers are so flippin expensive.. apart from if you count the engines.... narrowboats have this odd heritage appeal and perhaps that is what keeps their prices relatively high?

I'm not sure about that, I'm not sure about a lot of things, but there's one thing I am definitely sure of, and that is, I love living on boats.

I think narrowboats are a bit like marmite, you either love them or hate them, but you will never know unless you try it.

doggies got a brand new bag

doggies got a brand new bag

Email this entry | Print this entry Nov 3 2007, 10:11 AM

so on the theme of bags and how people of the south wear theirs...

papas got a brand new bag.. or more precisely Mr B.

ok, its pink and feminine but Mr B is an effeminate dog and doesn't much care.

I shall be parading like a proper prissy dog owner now. actually he will be more secure in his car when he's in my car... thats the main point of it.

Reduced: 93% of original size [ 1024 x 889 ] - Click to view full image

Entry psycho-analysing handbags

psycho-analysing handbags

Email this entry | Print this entry Oct 26 2007, 10:48 AM

Since we moved our boat closer to a convenient train station I have been partaking in the English past-time of getting to work at random times ( mostly late) via public transport.

It's quite an entertaining, infuriating, humanising, de-humanising, educational experience.

first of all, there's quite a variety of people, but most, if not 99.9% don't talk, not to each other that is.

this is commuting in the south. this is cramming as many people in to one small space as is possible and then seeing how much those people crammed in together can avoid any form of direct human interaction or verbal contact. they all communicate with other worldy beings via the magic of their portable communications devices. they sit there texting and emailing or doing their very best to ignore or avoid any form of communicative contact with the humans just a few inches away. That is until you realise that in fact we are all sending off messages all the time to everyone around us, you just have to tune in.

In my bid to blend in with the sheep, Ive taken to shoe and bag spotting, along with keeping my nose firmly attached to a book or a free newspaper. I think these two items a person adorns themselves with can tell you quite a lot. One of the main rules of this non-talking sport is never make eye contact and the second rule is, if you do find yourself in a squeeze and forced into physical contact with a fellow traveller, you must pretend they don't exist.

women with bags, small bags sometimes, but mostly BIG bags full of I have no idea what. men usually carry rucksacks, practical and organised. or designer man-bags for those who like to tote and tell the largely self consuming, self obsessed, eye-contact avoiding train populous, 'hey look at me Im loaded, stylish and not afraid to mince in public, perhaps Im good in bed, perhaps I know how to show a lady (or man) a good time, perhaps if you like the style of my bag and I like the style of yours we could hit it off, fall madly in bag-love and go shopping at weekends together, maybe we can eat out at a local sushi bar...'
The men and women around me wear their bags like they are their personalities. It seems the more they spend, or the more they are perceived to have spent on their large leather/plastic/fabric appendage then the more 'personality' they have or appear to possibly have. Those with more introverted personalities have the more sensible bags and those who watch Big Brother on the television walk around with a bag bearing the logo "princess" or some other type of proclamation of being royalty or somehow special, yes, you little miss princess all in pink with glittery spangles, you really are 'special'

in this rather isolated world of non-direct verbal communication, the humans have found an entirely different way to converse.

is it any wonder that one of the recent shoe crazes was to wear a brand of footware, itself, called Converse?

faffing and splashing about

faffing and splashing about

Email this entry | Print this entry Oct 22 2007, 10:11 AM

I'm not alone in the world when I say I love to faff.

I know there's quite a few people out there who love faffing as much as I do and this weekend I exercised my right to faff.

Firstly we moved the boat from Harlow town to Cheshunt. that took us about 5 hours which included a stop off for diesel and water.
it wasnt a bad trip really, the locks gates are ridiculously hard in places but we were extremely lucky with 8 out of 9 or so locks in our favour.
The highlight of the trip was the dog falling in for the first time. We were just leaving Carthagena lock, the man was at the tiller and i was just looking out over the front of the boat as I saw Mr B shake himself, unfortunately he forgot he had his front feet precariously perched on the hand rail. As he shook his head his feet lost grip and he performed a near perfect back-flip into the water from the roof.
At this point he was 50 feet in front of us, the boat was immediately knocked out of gear as I quickly moved to the edge of the boat to scoop him out. However the dog, not being one of the brightest buttons in the box, he decided to swim away. I tried calling him to make him change direction as Yann just managed to catch his collar with the tip of his finger and pull him out of the water before the boat cruised out of reach. The dog looked absolutely pathetic with his blotting paper fur, he's definitely not a water dog. I laughed myself hoarse afterwards as I dried him down with a towel. I think he was quite a lucky dog really, if we had missed him first time around Im not sure he would have survived much longer in the water.

Now we are positioned in a nice sunny (read exposed) spot near Cheshunt.

Roll on the faffing.
the choices this weekend, actually just for sunday as we spent most of saturday moving, where shall we go? to the seaside? or shall we stay in and faff all day?
we opted to stay in and spend some time on the boat.

I managed to clear a bin-liner worth of rubbish out of the cupboards in the bedroom, I didn't think it was possible to get rid of even more stuff but somehow I have and feel a whole lot better for it. Well, I would do if I hadn't disturbed so much dust and given myself such a bad attack of asthma!

me and the Man had a really good talk at the weekend about what we both want from living on a boat and we came to the conclusion that we might sell the boat next year and try something different. Ideally I would like to live on a catamaran somewhere around the south coast, but he's not convinced about living on a sailing boat with me, and he is planning on buying a camper van at the moment.
its virtually impossible for us to agree on anything except we both like being on or around water.

an "end of week" life crisis

an "end of week" life crisis

Email this entry | Print this entry Oct 19 2007, 01:53 PM

It's been a strange old week this week. So Im going to curl up on the therapists couch, otherwise known as a blog and talk about what's on my mind

to set the scene, I've been on very "flexible hours" working as I do in Croydon and currently residing in Harlow, tied up to some trees and having the boarding plank set to maximum reach.

working late at the office and working from home this week has given me time for reflection. Sitting in the boat slaving over a hot laptop in front of a glowing fire, I glanced out of the window to see some steam rising off the water and hearing the hum of a local boats generator.
for a moment I thought, this must be what everyone imagines living on a canal boat is like and is perhaps quite a few people's ideal way of living. But for some reason, I don't know why, it's not hitting my "happy" spot.

I'm not new to boating, I've been on and around boats for boating holidays and some of them quite extended since I was 5, they have all varied between canals, rivers, estuaries and coastal hopping. I've always loved it, ever since I discovered the joys of hiding inside a cupboard on an old wooden broads cruiser to cruising around the coast and arriving at a strangely familiar port or harbour. Mooring up in a nice marina where you have space to breath, nice clean walkways and security can make a difference. I am not talking about a narrowboat style inland waterways marina, Im talking about coastal marinas and anchorages. All of this I love, a canal certainly can't compete with the smell of being near to the sea or out on wider stretches of water.

The thing I am new to, is Narrowboats. and therein lies my problem.
I think I am coming to a realisation that I don't actually like narrowboats. They dont feel like boats at all.
I feel most of the time that I am not on the water but in some sort of long thin caravan with bad suspension. I really don't feel at one with my man made surroundings. Looking out to see a watery drainage ditch that is the canal or narrow river is quite depressing and makes me feel claustrophobic and hemmed in. Cruising is a chore and not particularly enjoyable, operating locks and moving at 3 or 4 mph is incredibly boring. Knowing that this is pretty much the limit of the boat is quite frustrating.
If I had the kind of boat that could leave Limehouse and turn left and not stop until I reached France or Holland would make me a happy person indeed. I'm not saying thats what I would do, but to have the capability is what Im talking about.

this morning for example, I chose to be a few minutes later to work so that I could take the woolwich ferry. really its just a few minutes ride across the river but the chance to see and smell the docks area and the wilder side of the thames river makes me feel all toasty inside. I dont need a log fire for that.

Im not sure what the answer is, after speaking to the Man we really seem to want VERY different things from living on a boat. He prefers yachts too, but doesnt want to stay near a harbour.
I on the other hand am feeling really unsettled by moving around so much recently. my home doesn't feel like my home so much as a place where I live and don't particularly care about.
Perhaps a chance to sit still for a couple of weeks instead of constantly moving might help my troubled mind. A chance to sit and be creative might be just the tonic I need.

in the mean time Im going to continue to dream about being here again.

Reduced: 93% of original size [ 1024 x 768 ] - Click to view full image

Reduced: 93% of original size [ 1024 x 820 ] - Click to view full image

Whats under yours?

Whats under yours?

Email this entry | Print this entry Oct 17 2007, 10:06 PM

I don't know if everyone does this, but I get really bored of having my furniture in the same place for weeks on end.
I feel the urge to move stuff around.

unfortunately on a boat there's not many places to move stuff to.

I had a good half a day at home today to do some work and while I was there during daylight hours, I also had the chance to relax for once on my sofa. but I couldnt.

Our living room area is a bit awkwardly laid out, the stove is big and takes up too much space to one side and then theres some cupboards that take up loads of space, leaving just a fairly limited area for seating. In which we have a small sofa measuring 1m x 1.2m

I dug under the sofa to clear out all the rammel that has been collected there by the Man. He thinks if he hides it under the sofa I will never know about it. He has a hoarding problem and it's a battle every day to stop him bringing more "stuff" home for "just in case"

Under the sofa I discovered:
one foam camping mat, unrolled
8 pieces of varying thicknesses of ply, 4mm - 12mm,
a small sample piece of wooden flooring
7 lengths of chrome pole, the kind you use for towel rails or in wardrobes etc
a drivers map of the UK
an argos catalogue
a machete
a large tuk-lok bin liner
a pencil, 6cm long and chewed

After I moved the sofa from facing length-ways to face sideways for a change, I decided to move some other stuff.

this involved moving a surfboard from our "hallway" area. under this I found several lengths of wood, some oak mouldings, some planed lengths, 2-3 meters long.
there was some steel box section metal hollow bar, a builders ground marking stake, and a very long length of inch diameter chrome bar, part of which is damaged and unusable.

so then I had to move some stuff to the bedroom, and we have quite a good space under our crossways bed where it should fold up ( but it rarely ever is)
under here I have a full sailing rig for my dinghy, a freebord ( like a cross between a skateboard and snowboard), a large stirrup pump, several pairs of shoes and a nice bit of of oak faced panelling for using in our window surrounds to replace some knackered old mouldy stuff.

Im quite pleased with the new look tidy living room, however the new look kitchen is full of shite from under the sofa.

if anyone wants some chrome bar, Ive got surplus, various lengths and diameters. free to a good home!

Entry gerrorf my land

gerrorf my land

Email this entry | Print this entry Oct 15 2007, 02:16 PM

Britain is rapidly becoming, with the help of capitalist ideas and greedy, money grabbing folks (who "work hard" for a living)
a very sad place to try and live quietly.

Im pretty tired of our consumerist lust for shopping and buying and owning and making things private.

First of all, who's GREAT idea was it to privatise the trains? that's rubbish for a start.
anyway, that aside, my main gripe over the past few days has been busy bodies who have gone out of their way to make me feel most unwelcome or have made me feel like the scum of the universe.

I was parking my motorbike last week on a footpath that lead down to the towpath. I chained it up to a lamp post, parking the bike neatly at the edge so it bothered nobody who used the path. So far so good. except one morning I came out to face my hour or two of commute to work and a woman came striding from the nearest posh flat with "double aspect views of the river"
"Can I ask you what are doing parking here?"
(me)"I live here"
(her)"where?"
(me)"over there"
(her)"where's that?"
(me)"in a narrow boat"
(her)eyes narrow slightly... "oh, well can I remind you that this is private property..."
(me)"but where I'm standing and where my bike is parked is public land"
(her)"yes but your chain is around that lamp post and thats on private land" (by 4 inches, ie just at the edge of the path)
I replied, slightly dubfounded by such pomposity, "well, I will be gone tomorrow, I move around you know, I rarely stay in one place for very long"
she finished off by saying, "well as long as you aren't staying long then I suppose it will be ok."

needless to say we moved again this weekend, and trundled down to the river stort, it was getting seriously dark on Saturday and with me being slightly myopic with limited night vision we opted to stay put at the top of a lock until the next day.
So looking around I see what looks like a nice out of the way spot behind a boat on the bankside. it was either that or moor on the bend on the lock moorings. Opting for the more friendly option of leaving the lock moorings available we headed over to the bank.
Suddenly a head popped out from a boat moored in what looked like a fenced off area nearby.
"You can't moor there, it's private"
I reply, "what do you mean private? it looks like the safest place to moor in the dark"
"No you cant moor there it's private, it's a turning point anyway. "

I'd already looked at the bank, there was no signs to say turning or private. plus it was so out of the way it wouldn't effect anyone who decided to turn at that late hour of the day.

as we hovered around in the middle of the river wondering where to go, another head popped out of another narrowboat, "you can't moor there, it's private"
"I know that, she just told us," I replied pointing in the direction of the other boat. "so where can we moor then?"

we were pointed in the direction of the lock moorings and told its alright to moor over there.
which we did.. with half the boat poking into the middle of the river such was the bend.

What a bunch of unfriendly beings. they seem to have their heads stuck so far up their own arses that they don't know the meaning of neighborliness, friendliness, or humanity. They are so busy protecting their "territory" that they have become a right old bunch of misers.

I have a good mind to take my dinghy down there (we've moved up the river now) and offer them some home baked cookies...
Kill them with kindness, I think it's the best response to such a bunch of shrivelled up old shrews.

Entry Be-Ware, vicious locks, may bite

Be-Ware, vicious locks, may bite

Email this entry | Print this entry Oct 8 2007, 08:25 AM

Another weekend of solo cruising was looking certain as my "slightly less grumpy than usual" other half had to fly to France quick for a funeral. We had planned to finish the Hertford arm of the river Lee this weekend but as fate dictates, all the best plans will go to pot.
So, I said I would move the boat up a couple of miles to the village/town of Ware. No probs just a couple of locks to get through and moor up.

then I got a call from a friend saying how long it is since we last met up for a good chin wag and something to eat. Ah ha... "how about", I says to my friend, "you come over and we go for a little cruise, you can give me a hand with the locks. it should be a doddle." thats me thinking that all the locks so far on the river Lee have been very subdued and easy to operate (not accounting for the ridiculously heavy gates)

Great, says he and for the first time ever in everdome... he arrived exactly on time as he said. I should have known the day was not going to be easy... when my friend Dave arrives on time, it's like an omen of strange things to come!

anyway, first lock had a swing bridge over the chamber. Dave's never done a lock before so was a little unsure of which bit to do first. He soon got the hang of opening the bridge, closing the lock gate and paddles. then came the first lesson of the day...

not all locks on the river Lee are big fluffy puppies... some are devils in locks clothing.
The water flow comes through the gate paddle, they are totally exposed above the cill and the jet force is pretty powerful to say the least. Id banked on it being easy and was just going to hold onto a temporary centreline that was actually a short piece of mooring rope and not particularly man enough for proper "hard core" locking.

In the end I had both front and rear lines tied onto to the bollards, shortly followed by a centreline once it would reach.
the flow force pulled the boat forward so strongly that it was beyond my capabilities to hold as I would normally. I could hear the ropes creaking and this was all with just one paddle half open.

I was grateful for the local advice from a nice chap at the lock side who told us the best way to use the lock to avoid problems.
they say the lock will be part of the stoppage program this winter to have it tamed. Im not sure if a man with a whip and a chair will tame this lion though.

Through the lock we trundled up to Ware and attempted to moor up. The ground was so hard I broke my hammer! ok, I broke the handle. Ive had to go out and buy a new one. Now Ive got a longer handled slightly heavier hammer to sort the pins out. I feel a bit tool-time-tim wielding the hammer, all manly and Grrr... except Im a girl and when ever I swing it, everyone in my local vicinity ducks for cover in fear of if I accidentally let go of it mid swing...

Come on, as if. I've only ever done that when I was 10 pin bowling on the swing back

I think if it hadn't been for the help from Tall Dave I would probably have given up and not bothered with the second lock. Thanks Dave.

flying fish

flying fish

Email this entry | Print this entry Oct 2 2007, 06:30 PM

there's a new addition to the boat, well, only when we aren't cruising that is.

Mr "less grumpy than before he went on holiday" brought me back a fish wind sock and another colourful traily type fish themed wind thingy.

I love them, they make the place more cheerful and also makes our boat easier to spot in the long line of clones that we find ourselves in at the moment.
Note in the picture how the fish is stylishly being held aloft with an old drainage rod, currently expertly held in place with some pieces of old wire wrapped around the back stanchions.



Currently moored up near St Margarets on the River Lee, its quite nice up there but its a bloody long way to work. almost 2 hours on the train. an hour and a half by motorbike. Oh how I dream of having my own car again. it's not any faster but at least it would be dry and warm and I wouldnt have to put up with the rank smell of people on the train. In particular one man this morning smelt so bad of tobacco breath I nearly gagged. Dude, if you're reading this... get some breath mints ( or kick that filthy habit)

I think we plan to move this weekend, visit the end of the navigation then head south and try to aim for the river Stort.

in the mean time im currently being generally rather happy because we have a new, less battery hungry fridge that is keeping my soya milk lovely and fresh for my cereals that I love so much and seem to eat excessive amounts of at the moment.