...gone
Honey Ryder cruised away from me, leaving Limehouse basin under new ownership at 1.30pm on Monday the 17th August 2009.
It was a sad weekend, finally packing all my things into the storage cupboard, packing my bare essentials and setting up camp in a friends spare box room. Seeing Honey Ryder with a completely clear roof and an empty insides made my tummy go all flippety flop.
Now I am homeless, Honey Ryder has gone, Mr X is in France, my dog is on holiday at my mums and so it seems this chapter of ditch crawling, chance encounters along the tow path and eye opening moments of madness, anger, death, friendship and compassion ends.
This life of just less than three years has been like a re-birth. A metamorphose of a woman, her dog, her tempestuous relationship and a boat that was a perfect catalyst for the whole process.
Thank you Honey Ryder, it's been emotional.
--------------- Fin ----------------
18 August 2009
And there she was...
My airbed leaks.
It feels strange to sleep with a ceiling so far away and such big windows.
Waking up without the smell of the fetid canal wasn’t too bad, but I miss the swans and ducks who used to come and say hello to me in a morning.
Waking up without the smell of the fetid canal wasn’t too bad, but I miss the swans and ducks who used to come and say hello to me in a morning.
17 August 2009
Goodbye old life
Glorious sunshine and there I was, standing at the side of Limehouse basin, a jar of fois gras in one hand and some stale bread in the other. A small laptop bag at my feet. Honey Ryder, my 57 foot narrowboat and home for the previous three years cruised away with it's slightly accident prone new owner in the direction of central london. My French boyfriend, recently made an ex, gone back to france and my dog, sent away and being looked after by my mum 180 miles north of London.
As I wandered back to my car that was stuffed to the ceiling with schtuff bound for storage, it finally dawned on me that I’m homeless and utterly alone.
After dropping the remainder of my life in at a storage unit I drove to a friends house in Watford, hoping that he might be in. His spare room has a very small space set aside for me amongst his vast amount of things. Just big enough for an airbed and a chair, this is going to be 'home' for a few weeks until I sort out my next floating home.
As I wandered back to my car that was stuffed to the ceiling with schtuff bound for storage, it finally dawned on me that I’m homeless and utterly alone.
After dropping the remainder of my life in at a storage unit I drove to a friends house in Watford, hoping that he might be in. His spare room has a very small space set aside for me amongst his vast amount of things. Just big enough for an airbed and a chair, this is going to be 'home' for a few weeks until I sort out my next floating home.
05 August 2009
the final curtain
Six weeks in Watford and I've got itchy feet already.
I've just finished a nice pair of curtains for the livingroom as a thankyou to my friend who has kindly let me stay in his spare room on my leaking airbed.
There's only so much I can ask of a friend. It's probably time I moved on for a while.
Another friend in Reading with whome I have shared a house with a few years previously is happy for me to stay in his spare room for a while. Especially since he also has curtains that he’d like adjusting and hanging.
Thankfully he has a car that works so he came and collected my bicycle and couple of bags. I rode my sickly scooter behind him all the way, keeping an eye on the dashboard the whole way for signs of more trouble.
At least Reading is closer to Cardiff so my train there will be cheaper and quicker than from Watford. My Cube wont be ready for a few weeks yet since all the parts are special order from Japan.
03 August 2009
14 days
How is it possible I can have so much stuff?
I surely dont need it all.
packing away the contents of the cupboards and drawers has revealed that I am infact less of a minimalist than I fooled myself into believing and more of a creative-tucker-away-of-things-out-of-sight. This will be rectified as soon as I have a moment to contemplate such ruthless skimming of "Schtuff".
Most of my possessions are now tucked away in boxes, stacked 1.5 meters high by 1.5 meters square.
each of these boxes will be quarantined, checked and double checked before I allow any of their contents to move with me to my new home. If they dont pass the usefulness test then off they go to a charity shop or well known auctioning website.
I may even put them up for free grabs on here.
Id really like to get it slimmed down to just one small ish car load. Im sure with a little lateral thinking it can be achieved.
of course, before it gets moved anywhere, I actually need to find something to move it into.
the seach continues, Plymouth, S & NW Wales, W Scotland, Belgium and the Netherlands await.
I surely dont need it all.
packing away the contents of the cupboards and drawers has revealed that I am infact less of a minimalist than I fooled myself into believing and more of a creative-tucker-away-of-things-out-of-sight. This will be rectified as soon as I have a moment to contemplate such ruthless skimming of "Schtuff".
Most of my possessions are now tucked away in boxes, stacked 1.5 meters high by 1.5 meters square.
each of these boxes will be quarantined, checked and double checked before I allow any of their contents to move with me to my new home. If they dont pass the usefulness test then off they go to a charity shop or well known auctioning website.
I may even put them up for free grabs on here.
Id really like to get it slimmed down to just one small ish car load. Im sure with a little lateral thinking it can be achieved.
of course, before it gets moved anywhere, I actually need to find something to move it into.
the seach continues, Plymouth, S & NW Wales, W Scotland, Belgium and the Netherlands await.
20 July 2009
room for a chicken
With a little less than one month left aboard Honey Ryder, time seems to have gone into warp drive.
My mental packing has started, helped along by the booking of a small self-storage cupboard.
I'm currently looking at suitable floors to sleep on as an interim measure of avoiding sleeping out under a bridge, although I do have the advantage that after nearly three years on the canals, I know quite a lot of suitable bridges.
I've looked at four very different boats so far, but all with a mast.
Looking around these various boats brings home how well equipped my current boat is and how much I have got used to it.
The battery charger and battery state readout, the inverter and travel power.
The heating, the hot water, the four burner cooker, the oven big enough for a medium sized chicken...
It seems all too soon this blog will draw to a natural conclusion and a new one will commence in the face of yet another very steep learning curve.
I want to live on a yacht and sail the world.
A couple of small matters to be over come first,
one, I have a full time job and a mortgage,
two, I've never sailed a yacht bigger than a dinghy.
My mental packing has started, helped along by the booking of a small self-storage cupboard.
I'm currently looking at suitable floors to sleep on as an interim measure of avoiding sleeping out under a bridge, although I do have the advantage that after nearly three years on the canals, I know quite a lot of suitable bridges.
I've looked at four very different boats so far, but all with a mast.
Looking around these various boats brings home how well equipped my current boat is and how much I have got used to it.
The battery charger and battery state readout, the inverter and travel power.
The heating, the hot water, the four burner cooker, the oven big enough for a medium sized chicken...
It seems all too soon this blog will draw to a natural conclusion and a new one will commence in the face of yet another very steep learning curve.
I want to live on a yacht and sail the world.
A couple of small matters to be over come first,
one, I have a full time job and a mortgage,
two, I've never sailed a yacht bigger than a dinghy.
10 July 2009
Exit stage left
Time to depart our dark and dusty dry dock cave like place and head back out into the bright world outside.
Heading back across London probably to see Victoria park and Limehouse for one last time from a narrowboat this summer.
Five more weeks of canal time, five more weeks of packing boxes and emptying Honey Ryder.
She is going to a new home this August and I am to be temporarily homeless.
Mr X is going back to France for a while, I am now starting my search for a new place to live in ernest.
Oh, exciting times.
Heading back across London probably to see Victoria park and Limehouse for one last time from a narrowboat this summer.
Five more weeks of canal time, five more weeks of packing boxes and emptying Honey Ryder.
She is going to a new home this August and I am to be temporarily homeless.
Mr X is going back to France for a while, I am now starting my search for a new place to live in ernest.
Oh, exciting times.
08 July 2009
I see a dry dock and I want to paint it black
Two and a bit years have passed since the last mammoth effort of stripping the hull back to bare metal and sorting out a loppy looking bottom.
it took three weeks of very very hard work back in March 2007.
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=124"]first Hull service part 1[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=129"]first hull service part 2[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=131"]first hull service part 3[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=134"]first hull service part 4[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=135"]first hull service part 5[/url]
Ive been holding back from booking the drydock for fear of the hard work to come, but there is only so long you can do that before you really do have to get your finger out and actually do something.
So, a few calls later and I was booked into the dock at Uxbridge boat centre. It was here we bought all our blacking from last time and since they have always been so friendly and accommodating I figured it was worth the slog across London to get there.
We had just one weekend to move from Cheshunt to Uxbridge. It's a fairly long way I can tell you. We shuffled a bit mid week down to the marina near Rammey Marsh and then commenced the trip early on saturday morning. it was weedy, weedy weedy, plastic baggy, plastic baggy, weedy, plastic baggy, weedy, plastic baggy all the way.
at least 10 trips down the weed hatch as we seemed to snag every thing going. It came to be a routine that at nearly every lock, engine off, check the propellor.
We managed to time it so that at the last lock we were forced into enduring the hammering hale storm and rain, mid-lock. It was quite a refreshing change from the intense heat so I didnt mind putting my sun parasol up to fend off the golf ball sized pieces of ice. We arrived at Angel for the night and continued the next day.
We arrived at West Drayton late afternoon early evening on Sunday after a good run through london and a box of noodles from Camden. I highly recommend going through Camden locks in the morning, it's so peaceful and there's still time to have a quick stop off and shop/eat before it gets busy. Camden is one of my favourite places, but in the past five years has changed dramatically, not necessarily for the better but the march of progress doesnt suffer nostalgia, it only sees pound signs.
a few days later we were being hauled into the dry dock alongside another boat.
It took ages to empty, from 9am through til at least 2pm and it wasnt until 3.30pm that we got the use of the pressure washer. We had images of what it was like the last time and we were worried about the tight working window of just a few days in the dock.
We needn't have worried, within 24 hours we had the entire hull pressure washed, wire brushed/angle ground, the first coat of black on and by the end of the second day, we were pretty much there with the second coat.
talk about a bloody doddle and a piece of piss!
Except for the lights.
we've been working in the dark, straining our eyes, not understanding why the lights dont want to work. It's all very well being under cover, but without lights, painting black on black, it's not been easy.
It took nearly 4 days for me to work out the lights were on a timer and the timer was set wrong.... DOH! last night, I had a moment of frustration, staring into the electrical cupboard when it finally dawned on me and then we had light... HURRAY!
and then we could see the paint runs... SHIT.
So we've been back round the boat removing all the run blobs and tidying up the blacking.
Otherwise, I couldnt have asked for an easier job.
Total cost:
Dry dock £280 for the week
4 tins of paint £100
one day use of pressure washer £56
Paint brushes and rollers (from Tesco) £5
totals £441
it took three weeks of very very hard work back in March 2007.
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=124"]first Hull service part 1[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=129"]first hull service part 2[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=131"]first hull service part 3[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=134"]first hull service part 4[/url]
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=135"]first hull service part 5[/url]
Ive been holding back from booking the drydock for fear of the hard work to come, but there is only so long you can do that before you really do have to get your finger out and actually do something.
So, a few calls later and I was booked into the dock at Uxbridge boat centre. It was here we bought all our blacking from last time and since they have always been so friendly and accommodating I figured it was worth the slog across London to get there.
We had just one weekend to move from Cheshunt to Uxbridge. It's a fairly long way I can tell you. We shuffled a bit mid week down to the marina near Rammey Marsh and then commenced the trip early on saturday morning. it was weedy, weedy weedy, plastic baggy, plastic baggy, weedy, plastic baggy, weedy, plastic baggy all the way.
at least 10 trips down the weed hatch as we seemed to snag every thing going. It came to be a routine that at nearly every lock, engine off, check the propellor.
We managed to time it so that at the last lock we were forced into enduring the hammering hale storm and rain, mid-lock. It was quite a refreshing change from the intense heat so I didnt mind putting my sun parasol up to fend off the golf ball sized pieces of ice. We arrived at Angel for the night and continued the next day.
We arrived at West Drayton late afternoon early evening on Sunday after a good run through london and a box of noodles from Camden. I highly recommend going through Camden locks in the morning, it's so peaceful and there's still time to have a quick stop off and shop/eat before it gets busy. Camden is one of my favourite places, but in the past five years has changed dramatically, not necessarily for the better but the march of progress doesnt suffer nostalgia, it only sees pound signs.
a few days later we were being hauled into the dry dock alongside another boat.
It took ages to empty, from 9am through til at least 2pm and it wasnt until 3.30pm that we got the use of the pressure washer. We had images of what it was like the last time and we were worried about the tight working window of just a few days in the dock.
We needn't have worried, within 24 hours we had the entire hull pressure washed, wire brushed/angle ground, the first coat of black on and by the end of the second day, we were pretty much there with the second coat.
talk about a bloody doddle and a piece of piss!
Except for the lights.
we've been working in the dark, straining our eyes, not understanding why the lights dont want to work. It's all very well being under cover, but without lights, painting black on black, it's not been easy.
It took nearly 4 days for me to work out the lights were on a timer and the timer was set wrong.... DOH! last night, I had a moment of frustration, staring into the electrical cupboard when it finally dawned on me and then we had light... HURRAY!
and then we could see the paint runs... SHIT.
So we've been back round the boat removing all the run blobs and tidying up the blacking.
Otherwise, I couldnt have asked for an easier job.
Total cost:
Dry dock £280 for the week
4 tins of paint £100
one day use of pressure washer £56
Paint brushes and rollers (from Tesco) £5
totals £441
11 May 2009
Falling down water
I had to let the dust settle a little on this entry as time, being the great healer, needed er, time.
It was not funny at the time, but hindsight is the funniest thing.
It is common knowledge that a true sailor is a hardy drinker. One who embraces Rum with both anchor-tattooed-forearms.
My fellow cohabitant has been known to practice the art of Rum appreciation throughout his younger adult life. Though he doesn't have the sailor tattoos there's other credentials that make him a sailor, some may say, pirate. :
Entering the boat sensing something amiss, immediately clocked the two bottles of rum (55%) in the kitchen, one of them empty, the other one seriously storm battered and a chopped up lime, squeezed and re-squeezed into wafer thin skinny green shells, husks of lime that were no longer lime, just green.
I sat alone on the sofa while he shrugged his way into the kitchen and attempted to fire up the stereo with ipod aural pleasures such as "what shall we do with a drunken sailor"
"Jeeeaaann kehm an elp me, ah can't see ze stereooo, aah need elp ma cherie"
Of course I didn't do anything but sit and wait.
After a few moments of wailing and moaning about lack of help and how it was my fault that he had drunk so much, there was a dull thump sound and it all went quiet.
Ah ha. I thought. I'll just give him a couple more minutes before I check to see what's happened.
I seized the moment to deploy the sofa cushions to the floor in anticipation of a further stormy night to come.
Stepping over the sleeping baby I took the dog outside for his nightly ablutions, said goodnight to the neighbour who was moored alongside, oblivious to the fact I was standing two feet away from an unconscious body.
I may have accidentally kicked the body while climbing over it. Accidentally mind you.
Then I went back inside. And waited.
One hour later the creature from the black lagoon came shuffling on its arse, unable to stand, and traversed slowly from the kitchen into the living room, looking for a warm safe place to sleep. Upon finding the sofa cushions, commenced a discussion about why it couldn't sleep on the "normal" bed. It eventually conceded to the fact it was safer on the floor, away from an angry female.
The "angry female" commenced with pre-bed tooth brushing duties (with analogue toothbrush as the travel power hasn't been restored yet) when, the sound that no-one likes to hear, was heard.
The decoratively attractive brass fire bucket had been cleverly utilised.
A true sailor never spoils the interior. Bravo.
With my tooth brush stifling my curses it sounded like I was deranged or very bad ventriloquist. All I could do was arm wave and gesticulate in a most agitated manner with a high pitched angry sound "mmuhh muhh muhhh muuhh, Mu Munnn!"
I couldn't unpurse my lips for fear of dribbling foamy toothpaste drool all over the place and thus losing my superiority in the situation.
Now I'm not proud of what I did next but, hey that's life.
After disposing of my toothbrush back in the bathroom, I resumed a verbal abuse thus:
"you stupid cunt. what the fuck were you thinking? You're 35 years old and only 5'4". You think you can drink like a fucking giant bastard still? You stupid stupid fucking twat. But, well done for getting it in the fire bucket"
mumbles incoherently back at me
"yeah I'm sure the kindling will be ok once it dries, now don't fucking move while I fetch another bucket - you cunt"
I swapped his fancy brass bucket for an altogether easier to clean plastic one. I pondered for a moment as I was swilling the sick out of the bucket via the side hatch, I had never seen him seasick before, it was most un-charactaristic of him.
It was then, that I spotted a large mark on the side of his face.
It seems he must have hit his head on the corner of a step when he fell to the floor when trying to put the music on, causing possible concussion.
The rest of the night was spent on hourly wanker watch, checking frequently that he was still alive.
I set my alarm to wake me, I'd get up, go and kick him a bit, then shout "are you alive you fucking twat" wait for a response then return to bed, then repeat the procedure for the remainder of the night.
In the morning, as I went to check on him yet again, he was sitting up, ships dog on his lap, asking how he arrived in the living room.
Incredibly he remembered absolutely nothing after the second glass of rum. No head ache, nothing.
It was two hours later, after filling the water tank and preparing to descend the lock at Victoria Park, the colour drained from his face, suddenly the tempest returned and remained for the whole day as he laid on the back of the boat casually vomiting over the side occasionally able to hold a rope as we made our way north through several locks.
I cruised the boat mostly on my own, savouring the fact he was still alive, but suffering.
Will he learn a lesson in seamanship from this?
It seems life is harder to navigate than canals.
It was not funny at the time, but hindsight is the funniest thing.
It is common knowledge that a true sailor is a hardy drinker. One who embraces Rum with both anchor-tattooed-forearms.
My fellow cohabitant has been known to practice the art of Rum appreciation throughout his younger adult life. Though he doesn't have the sailor tattoos there's other credentials that make him a sailor, some may say, pirate. :
Holes in clothes - checkAfter an exceptionally long Friday at work at IPC Towers I arrived home around 10pm.
dishevelled unshaven appearance - check
all year tan - check
rarely wears shoes - check
devil may care attitude - check
a Gallic shrug - check
Entering the boat sensing something amiss, immediately clocked the two bottles of rum (55%) in the kitchen, one of them empty, the other one seriously storm battered and a chopped up lime, squeezed and re-squeezed into wafer thin skinny green shells, husks of lime that were no longer lime, just green.
I heard what sounded like the shipping forecast in my head:I battened the hatches, put all breakables away or on the floor and braced myself, armed with mobile phone for both evidence gathering and any possible Mayday calls.
Thames - Viking - Pirate - French men
Southwesterly severe gale force 9 now decreased gale force 8, increasing severe gale force 9 soon, then increasing storm force 10 later
- Human state
- Rough or very rough, occasionally moderate.
- Weather
- Squally rain - prolonged dry spell imminent.
- Visibility
- Good, occasionally poor when sleeping in different rooms
Upon entering the saloon area I was greeted, in the traditional French manner, except our poor Gallic pirate had lost the ability to see single figures and air kissed the cheek of the double vision standing next to me.
I sat alone on the sofa while he shrugged his way into the kitchen and attempted to fire up the stereo with ipod aural pleasures such as "what shall we do with a drunken sailor"
"Jeeeaaann kehm an elp me, ah can't see ze stereooo, aah need elp ma cherie"
Of course I didn't do anything but sit and wait.
After a few moments of wailing and moaning about lack of help and how it was my fault that he had drunk so much, there was a dull thump sound and it all went quiet.
Ah ha. I thought. I'll just give him a couple more minutes before I check to see what's happened.
 |
| It was here he promptly fell asleep and assumed the safety position. (like a true sailor) |
I seized the moment to deploy the sofa cushions to the floor in anticipation of a further stormy night to come.
Stepping over the sleeping baby I took the dog outside for his nightly ablutions, said goodnight to the neighbour who was moored alongside, oblivious to the fact I was standing two feet away from an unconscious body.
I may have accidentally kicked the body while climbing over it. Accidentally mind you.
Then I went back inside. And waited.
One hour later the creature from the black lagoon came shuffling on its arse, unable to stand, and traversed slowly from the kitchen into the living room, looking for a warm safe place to sleep. Upon finding the sofa cushions, commenced a discussion about why it couldn't sleep on the "normal" bed. It eventually conceded to the fact it was safer on the floor, away from an angry female.
The "angry female" commenced with pre-bed tooth brushing duties (with analogue toothbrush as the travel power hasn't been restored yet) when, the sound that no-one likes to hear, was heard.
Yaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggghhpp, Yaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggghhpp,I ran back to the living room, toothbrush hanging dangerously out of pursed lips, fearing the worst, vomit central
The decoratively attractive brass fire bucket had been cleverly utilised.
A true sailor never spoils the interior. Bravo.
With my tooth brush stifling my curses it sounded like I was deranged or very bad ventriloquist. All I could do was arm wave and gesticulate in a most agitated manner with a high pitched angry sound "mmuhh muhh muhhh muuhh, Mu Munnn!"
I couldn't unpurse my lips for fear of dribbling foamy toothpaste drool all over the place and thus losing my superiority in the situation.
 |
| how to speak with your lips together |
Now I'm not proud of what I did next but, hey that's life.
After disposing of my toothbrush back in the bathroom, I resumed a verbal abuse thus:
"you stupid cunt. what the fuck were you thinking? You're 35 years old and only 5'4". You think you can drink like a fucking giant bastard still? You stupid stupid fucking twat. But, well done for getting it in the fire bucket"
mumbles incoherently back at me
"yeah I'm sure the kindling will be ok once it dries, now don't fucking move while I fetch another bucket - you cunt"
 |
| fire bucket. Also good for containing vomit |
It was then, that I spotted a large mark on the side of his face.
It seems he must have hit his head on the corner of a step when he fell to the floor when trying to put the music on, causing possible concussion.
That unconscious body really had been properly unconscious.I felt a tiny pang of guilt. Very tiny. I'd kicked him when he was down. That's pretty poor form. I should have called an ambulance. But a part of me just wanted him to suffer a little bit more.
The rest of the night was spent on hourly wanker watch, checking frequently that he was still alive.
I set my alarm to wake me, I'd get up, go and kick him a bit, then shout "are you alive you fucking twat" wait for a response then return to bed, then repeat the procedure for the remainder of the night.
In the morning, as I went to check on him yet again, he was sitting up, ships dog on his lap, asking how he arrived in the living room.
Incredibly he remembered absolutely nothing after the second glass of rum. No head ache, nothing.
It was two hours later, after filling the water tank and preparing to descend the lock at Victoria Park, the colour drained from his face, suddenly the tempest returned and remained for the whole day as he laid on the back of the boat casually vomiting over the side occasionally able to hold a rope as we made our way north through several locks.
I cruised the boat mostly on my own, savouring the fact he was still alive, but suffering.
Will he learn a lesson in seamanship from this?
It seems life is harder to navigate than canals.
08 May 2009
Sunshine
A few days trolling around harbours in France, along the Brittany west coast has wet my appetite further for the next boat. I was on holiday and couldnt help myself, I always end up near water.
I already have a good idea about what I want and where I want to put it and where Id like to go with it, it seems its a buyers market out there.
Honey Ryder is still for sale, I should probably do a bit more effort to sell her before the summer is over, but for every month I live on her, I save large amounts of money to put towards the next boat. So its a difficult balance between selling and saving.
Im not sure if I will be able to secure another boat mortgage again, I guess I should go out there and try one of the many finance houses/rip off merchants that offer marine mortgages.
So, I saw the next boat in france, its a Jeanneau Sunshine 38. if only I had sold mine, had the finances in place and a mooring secured.
It all seems to far away!
I already have a good idea about what I want and where I want to put it and where Id like to go with it, it seems its a buyers market out there.
Honey Ryder is still for sale, I should probably do a bit more effort to sell her before the summer is over, but for every month I live on her, I save large amounts of money to put towards the next boat. So its a difficult balance between selling and saving.
Im not sure if I will be able to secure another boat mortgage again, I guess I should go out there and try one of the many finance houses/rip off merchants that offer marine mortgages.
So, I saw the next boat in france, its a Jeanneau Sunshine 38. if only I had sold mine, had the finances in place and a mooring secured.
It all seems to far away!
27 April 2009
pages of waffle
I received a letter from British Waterways.
Three pages of waffle about how London boaters shouldn't empty their toilets into the canals and waterways around London and how inspections will be made on boats to make sure they comply.
Three pages of single sided, single minded drivel.
one page would have been plenty, in fact four sentences would suffice.
----
Dear Customers,
We have removed elsan, rubbish and water points along Grand Union and Rivers Lee and Stort because they were over-used and were expensive to maintain.
We have removed access to British Waterways laundry and shower facilities unless you are a British Waterways Marina customer.
We understand that you will have to cruise a full day to empty your toilet or fill your water tank and that you may be temped to empty your toilets in the bushes or in the canal.
Please don't do this, we recommend that you find a marina mooring, where you will find all these facilities privately available and stop making the canals and rivers look untidy with constant cruising/on-line mooring.
yours blah blah blah
-----
if they want to encourage people to keep moving and stop them congregating in convenient spots where the facilities are, surely they need to add facilities, not take them away!
Three pages of waffle about how London boaters shouldn't empty their toilets into the canals and waterways around London and how inspections will be made on boats to make sure they comply.
Three pages of single sided, single minded drivel.
one page would have been plenty, in fact four sentences would suffice.
----
Dear Customers,
We have removed elsan, rubbish and water points along Grand Union and Rivers Lee and Stort because they were over-used and were expensive to maintain.
We have removed access to British Waterways laundry and shower facilities unless you are a British Waterways Marina customer.
We understand that you will have to cruise a full day to empty your toilet or fill your water tank and that you may be temped to empty your toilets in the bushes or in the canal.
Please don't do this, we recommend that you find a marina mooring, where you will find all these facilities privately available and stop making the canals and rivers look untidy with constant cruising/on-line mooring.
yours blah blah blah
-----
if they want to encourage people to keep moving and stop them congregating in convenient spots where the facilities are, surely they need to add facilities, not take them away!
06 April 2009
Travel Power 2
A trip to Cox electrical...
reveals the damage.
black box, damaged and repairable if they can source the parts. £350
alternator needs servicing with new winding and copper core £270
postage return £30
=
empty pockets on Honey Ryder... and another month or so until I can consider buying some new wheels.
reveals the damage.
black box, damaged and repairable if they can source the parts. £350
alternator needs servicing with new winding and copper core £270
postage return £30
=
empty pockets on Honey Ryder... and another month or so until I can consider buying some new wheels.
Wigged out with the neighbours
Mooring in Limehouse for the past week has been most entertaining.
we arrived on a Sunday evening, and squeezed into a spot a meter too short. So having knocked on the neighbours boat without a response, we shuffled the boat along a little bit so we could fit along the wall. Just as Mr X was about to tie the boat on again, a bald mans head popped out of the boat wondering what was happening. We explained, he shrugged and left us to it.
thereafter, for the remainder of the week we listened to the music of his engine chugging away into the night, until 9pm, and recommencing at 8am. Since we were moored so close, this meant our boat vibrated away as if it were our own engine.
This narked Mr X quite a lot. We gave the neighbour a name, which I shall not repeat on here (in french it is tete-a-con), but shall give a pseudnom to replace his nickname : bald-engine-man
Thursday night, and we were chatting away in the living room, to the familiar sound of our neighbours engine vibrating the grate on our stove when the boat rocked violently to the booming sound of someone on the roof. I jumped up, at that very moment seeing one of my tubs of plants go frisbying into Limehouse basin! [i]"arh!, some cunts thrown my plants in!"[/i] I shouted, opening the side hatch immediately to shout outside [i]"gerrof my boat you cheeky mother fuckers!"[/i]
(as you can see in times of stress, swearing comes naturally to me)
we both ran outside, I was focussing on my plants, only just floating, out of reach near to the boat.
As I went to get the boat pole to retrieve the plants, looking down the wall of boats, I saw that four boats had been untied further down the wall, except for bald-engine-man and us. The cheeky untiers and plant throwers had been disturbed by coal-boat-Liz shouting at them from across the basin.
I grabbed the boat hook, while Mr X teased my tub of plants back to the boat with the boat pole. I set off down the line of drifting boats, hooking the ducks and pulling them back in to the side.
I thought it only neighbourly to alert bald-engine-man, who still seemed oblivious to the commotion happening around him.
I tapped nicely. No answer. I tapped louder with the boat hook. Still no answer. I wondered how it's possible for a person to not hear someone knocking and decided to give it some welly with the handle of the boat hook. Boom Boom Boom.. Boom Boom...
I stood there in disbelief at no reply. Eventually, after several minutes I saw the boat move and from the engine end a bald head popped out, like a prairie dog, looking around.
I explained to him that all the boats had just been untied, except for his and mine, and that mine had been jumped on.
I continued helping to tie the other boats back up and after a while went back inside to carry on muttering about losing one of my plant tubs and scouring the watery horizon for any sign of an upturned plant pot with my binoculars.
The weekend flew by and before we knew it, it was 8am Sunday morning and I was being woken up to the dulcit tones of the neighbours engine once again. But then, the sound faded and as usual Mr X jumped up to see which direction they were heading in, hoping it wouldnt be the same as us to avoid the locks being against us.
He then exclaimed [i]"fucking hell, hes got a woman!" [/i]
I reply sleepily [i]"really? he didnt seem like the kind of man who would have a wife, you sure it's him not another boat?"[/i]
Mr X replied, [i]"yes theres old baldy standing on the gunnel.. and he's... oh now hes giving wifey at the tiller a kiss... maybe he's congratulating her on a perfect reverse manouver?"[/i]
I reply [i]"that's unusal. A woman driving, good for her, breaking with the tradition of : man drive : woman do the locking"[/i]
A couple of hours later we were on our way, heading up towards Victoria park. we just missed a boat in the first lock, but caught up with them at the next.
As I stood at the side with rope in hand I realised we were sharing the lock with the bald-engine-man's boat. So I looked at the bald man sitting on the side of the lock, thinking, [i]he's not the same bald man I saw before[/i]. I shouted across when the lock was full to ask if they wanted to go first or if they were waiting for someone, as the bald man showed no sign of springing into action.
He replied, [i]"she's inside making coffee"[/i]
[i]"Ok"[/i] I replied
at which point, a blonde shoulder-length haired figure arrived with a tray of coffee mugs from the front.
I had to do a double take, and so did she.
The blonde lady was none other than the first bald headed person we had met prairie dogging from the engine hole.
suck me sideways! its HIM.. no HER!
She spent the next few locks avoiding eye contact with us, appearing rather uncomfortable at being "out" with the neighbours, and me trying to catch her attention so I could be sociable and talk, at least about the finer points of the 8pm engine-off time.
I never did get the chance to say how good she looked or even to get a name. Shame.
we arrived on a Sunday evening, and squeezed into a spot a meter too short. So having knocked on the neighbours boat without a response, we shuffled the boat along a little bit so we could fit along the wall. Just as Mr X was about to tie the boat on again, a bald mans head popped out of the boat wondering what was happening. We explained, he shrugged and left us to it.
thereafter, for the remainder of the week we listened to the music of his engine chugging away into the night, until 9pm, and recommencing at 8am. Since we were moored so close, this meant our boat vibrated away as if it were our own engine.
This narked Mr X quite a lot. We gave the neighbour a name, which I shall not repeat on here (in french it is tete-a-con), but shall give a pseudnom to replace his nickname : bald-engine-man
Thursday night, and we were chatting away in the living room, to the familiar sound of our neighbours engine vibrating the grate on our stove when the boat rocked violently to the booming sound of someone on the roof. I jumped up, at that very moment seeing one of my tubs of plants go frisbying into Limehouse basin! [i]"arh!, some cunts thrown my plants in!"[/i] I shouted, opening the side hatch immediately to shout outside [i]"gerrof my boat you cheeky mother fuckers!"[/i]
(as you can see in times of stress, swearing comes naturally to me)
we both ran outside, I was focussing on my plants, only just floating, out of reach near to the boat.
As I went to get the boat pole to retrieve the plants, looking down the wall of boats, I saw that four boats had been untied further down the wall, except for bald-engine-man and us. The cheeky untiers and plant throwers had been disturbed by coal-boat-Liz shouting at them from across the basin.
I grabbed the boat hook, while Mr X teased my tub of plants back to the boat with the boat pole. I set off down the line of drifting boats, hooking the ducks and pulling them back in to the side.
I thought it only neighbourly to alert bald-engine-man, who still seemed oblivious to the commotion happening around him.
I tapped nicely. No answer. I tapped louder with the boat hook. Still no answer. I wondered how it's possible for a person to not hear someone knocking and decided to give it some welly with the handle of the boat hook. Boom Boom Boom.. Boom Boom...
I stood there in disbelief at no reply. Eventually, after several minutes I saw the boat move and from the engine end a bald head popped out, like a prairie dog, looking around.
I explained to him that all the boats had just been untied, except for his and mine, and that mine had been jumped on.
I continued helping to tie the other boats back up and after a while went back inside to carry on muttering about losing one of my plant tubs and scouring the watery horizon for any sign of an upturned plant pot with my binoculars.
The weekend flew by and before we knew it, it was 8am Sunday morning and I was being woken up to the dulcit tones of the neighbours engine once again. But then, the sound faded and as usual Mr X jumped up to see which direction they were heading in, hoping it wouldnt be the same as us to avoid the locks being against us.
He then exclaimed [i]"fucking hell, hes got a woman!" [/i]
I reply sleepily [i]"really? he didnt seem like the kind of man who would have a wife, you sure it's him not another boat?"[/i]
Mr X replied, [i]"yes theres old baldy standing on the gunnel.. and he's... oh now hes giving wifey at the tiller a kiss... maybe he's congratulating her on a perfect reverse manouver?"[/i]
I reply [i]"that's unusal. A woman driving, good for her, breaking with the tradition of : man drive : woman do the locking"[/i]
A couple of hours later we were on our way, heading up towards Victoria park. we just missed a boat in the first lock, but caught up with them at the next.
As I stood at the side with rope in hand I realised we were sharing the lock with the bald-engine-man's boat. So I looked at the bald man sitting on the side of the lock, thinking, [i]he's not the same bald man I saw before[/i]. I shouted across when the lock was full to ask if they wanted to go first or if they were waiting for someone, as the bald man showed no sign of springing into action.
He replied, [i]"she's inside making coffee"[/i]
[i]"Ok"[/i] I replied
at which point, a blonde shoulder-length haired figure arrived with a tray of coffee mugs from the front.
I had to do a double take, and so did she.
The blonde lady was none other than the first bald headed person we had met prairie dogging from the engine hole.
suck me sideways! its HIM.. no HER!
She spent the next few locks avoiding eye contact with us, appearing rather uncomfortable at being "out" with the neighbours, and me trying to catch her attention so I could be sociable and talk, at least about the finer points of the 8pm engine-off time.
I never did get the chance to say how good she looked or even to get a name. Shame.
Bike 1 - 0 thieves
It was around 3am, when I awoke to a very suspicious sound.
This is not unusual as even the merest leaf falling on the roof can wake me up. It was not a fox like the previous night skipping along the roof, it was the sound of someone trying to remove my bike. It was the sound of scooter engines ticking over right next to my boat on the towpath.
As realisation dawned on me at what was happening just a few feet from my head, Mr X sprang out of bed, running to the side hatch. My mind was still catching up trying to think of the best course of action. Mr X didn't think, he just did.
Neither technique had any effect. The scooters careemed down the towpath at warp 6 Mr Sulu and shot out of sight.
Mr X surveyed the rooftop and proclaimed my bike was still there and with both wheels still attached. one security cable cut.
The bike was locked on the roof to the centre line loop with a D lock, a heavy duty motorbike chain and a small cable around the front wheel.
They cut the small cable thinking (rather optimistically) that was all that secured the bike.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/cutcable.jpg[/img]
Since even the most nible and delicate of nymph like cats couldnt tip toe across my sound amplifying roof without being duly noted, the chances of three social wastrels swiping my bike, with me just a few feet under it, un-noticed was a tall order.
So, the question remains, why were three people on scooters riding around on a towpath at 3am carrying bolt croppers?
This also raised another question, what if I was on my own, what would I have done? Since I don't have a panic alarm attached to the boat, I thought perhaps keeping an airhorn handy that could be used as a loud distraction, as well as my camera which lives beside me at most times might be the best defence against would be attackers. I think if I used the machete, it would end up being turned against me.
Yet again I am reminded why I dislike living on the east side of London, or infact, within the M25.
This is not unusual as even the merest leaf falling on the roof can wake me up. It was not a fox like the previous night skipping along the roof, it was the sound of someone trying to remove my bike. It was the sound of scooter engines ticking over right next to my boat on the towpath.
As realisation dawned on me at what was happening just a few feet from my head, Mr X sprang out of bed, running to the side hatch. My mind was still catching up trying to think of the best course of action. Mr X didn't think, he just did.
Neither technique had any effect. The scooters careemed down the towpath at warp 6 Mr Sulu and shot out of sight.
Mr X surveyed the rooftop and proclaimed my bike was still there and with both wheels still attached. one security cable cut.
The bike was locked on the roof to the centre line loop with a D lock, a heavy duty motorbike chain and a small cable around the front wheel.
They cut the small cable thinking (rather optimistically) that was all that secured the bike.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/cutcable.jpg[/img]
Since even the most nible and delicate of nymph like cats couldnt tip toe across my sound amplifying roof without being duly noted, the chances of three social wastrels swiping my bike, with me just a few feet under it, un-noticed was a tall order.
So, the question remains, why were three people on scooters riding around on a towpath at 3am carrying bolt croppers?
This also raised another question, what if I was on my own, what would I have done? Since I don't have a panic alarm attached to the boat, I thought perhaps keeping an airhorn handy that could be used as a loud distraction, as well as my camera which lives beside me at most times might be the best defence against would be attackers. I think if I used the machete, it would end up being turned against me.
Yet again I am reminded why I dislike living on the east side of London, or infact, within the M25.
01 April 2009
Travel Power and electric toothbrushes
Honey Ryder is fitted with the best system I've ever known for supplying power. It's got electrical power coming out of its ears, not literally, but metaphorically.
2kw Inverter, Charger, shore power, comprehensive battery management, small suit case gennie for just in case, solar panel awaiting fitment, ELECTROLUX TRAVEL POWER...
When I bought the boat I didn't know what IT was or how it worked.
after asking the questions on the canal forum I got answers for how to make it work,
The travel power gives us the power to charge our batteries with our 240v charger, with stage charging. it lets me run a washing machine, a vacuum cleaner and a hair dryer that can strip vinyl off of name panels at 10 paces.
Yes it's got the power!
I've lived with (and without) it for just over two years, so heres my travel power story
It works from the engine, so start er up, flick the switch and see a green light come on. Or NOT. a few more engine revs, and there is the lovely green light followed by a nice audible >CLICK< all the boat is beaming with 240 volts running through the inverter/charger box.
But soon follows another >CLICK<, followed by a frown, the engine is switched off, the floor boards are lifted, belt tension is checked, tools are made handy , the large belt is tensioned within an hairs bredth of its life, engine switched back on, revs applied, the green illuminates , cross your fingers.... hurray! we have POWER.
The light on my electric toothbrush comes on in the distant corner of the bedroom where it is always left plugged, just in case, to catch any stray 240v that might wander through the boats circuits. All is well, the boat vibrates with the engines rythmic humming...
But then, while the engine boards are up, there's a distant squeeking. You cock your head on one side and listen intently for a moment. Nothing to worry about, especially if you put the engine boards back on, it's hardly noticable.
Then >CLICK<... it all goes off again, apart from the engine that carries on regardless and my toothbrush sits dimly in the corner. This is probably because the charger has been left on at the same time as the washing machine trying to run its heat cycle. A simple case of overloading, switch off the charger and >CLICK< we are back in action.
However, if you forget to switch off the charger when running a large appliance too many times, you will blow a small fuse, located in the engine room.
It will take two days to locate this fuse.
New fuse applied and a jug full of spares in the kitchen cupboard, we are back in electrical action. This time with slightly louder squeek. After ignoring the gradually increasing crescendo of squeek turning to sqeal, it all turns nasty when it goes clunkety grindy clunk under the engine boards. Inspection reveals a tensioner has chucked its bearings out of the pram. The rubber belt has melted and its all a rather hot and sticky mess. [url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=398"]new pulley[/url]
one week later, new "ventilated" pully applied and my toothbrush is happily charging in the corner.
Until, there's another splintering sound. Engine rapidly switched off, boards are lifted once again in a hurry, to reveal a shredded belt. At £20 a throw, this is the 5th belt it's munched its way through in as many months. Careful application of another new belt shows the critical prescision fitting of the belt and the alternator pully sides.
Weeks pass, everything seems to running nicely, then >BANG< the inverter blows up.
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=461"]new inverter[/url]
three weeks later, new inverter plumbed in, the travel power is humming along beautifully, new belt, new tensioner pulley, new inverter charger and my toothbrush has never been happier.
Its freezing cold outside, the washing machine is humming its way through is fortnightly wash when >CLICK<>CLICK< washing machine whirs back into action. We dismiss it as the water being so cold it is making the heater work more than usual...
until gradually without us really noticing the decline in performance, the travel power refuses to co-operate with the washing machine. >CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK< off
the fuse blows again.
a call to Beta Marine, new brushes ordered. one day later, new brushes fitted.
still no travel power. still no electric toothbrush.
a call to Beta Marine, followed by a call to Cox Automotives in Warwickshire...
one day booked off work to take the complete Electrolux travel power system for checking in Warwickshire.
I've put my electric toothbrush away now and gone back to a manual.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/Honey%20Ryder/DSC02740.jpg[/img]
2kw Inverter, Charger, shore power, comprehensive battery management, small suit case gennie for just in case, solar panel awaiting fitment, ELECTROLUX TRAVEL POWER...
When I bought the boat I didn't know what IT was or how it worked.
after asking the questions on the canal forum I got answers for how to make it work,
The travel power gives us the power to charge our batteries with our 240v charger, with stage charging. it lets me run a washing machine, a vacuum cleaner and a hair dryer that can strip vinyl off of name panels at 10 paces.
Yes it's got the power!
I've lived with (and without) it for just over two years, so heres my travel power story
It works from the engine, so start er up, flick the switch and see a green light come on. Or NOT. a few more engine revs, and there is the lovely green light followed by a nice audible >CLICK< all the boat is beaming with 240 volts running through the inverter/charger box.
But soon follows another >CLICK<, followed by a frown, the engine is switched off, the floor boards are lifted, belt tension is checked, tools are made handy , the large belt is tensioned within an hairs bredth of its life, engine switched back on, revs applied, the green illuminates , cross your fingers.... hurray! we have POWER.
The light on my electric toothbrush comes on in the distant corner of the bedroom where it is always left plugged, just in case, to catch any stray 240v that might wander through the boats circuits. All is well, the boat vibrates with the engines rythmic humming...
But then, while the engine boards are up, there's a distant squeeking. You cock your head on one side and listen intently for a moment. Nothing to worry about, especially if you put the engine boards back on, it's hardly noticable.
Then >CLICK<... it all goes off again, apart from the engine that carries on regardless and my toothbrush sits dimly in the corner. This is probably because the charger has been left on at the same time as the washing machine trying to run its heat cycle. A simple case of overloading, switch off the charger and >CLICK< we are back in action.
However, if you forget to switch off the charger when running a large appliance too many times, you will blow a small fuse, located in the engine room.
It will take two days to locate this fuse.
New fuse applied and a jug full of spares in the kitchen cupboard, we are back in electrical action. This time with slightly louder squeek. After ignoring the gradually increasing crescendo of squeek turning to sqeal, it all turns nasty when it goes clunkety grindy clunk under the engine boards. Inspection reveals a tensioner has chucked its bearings out of the pram. The rubber belt has melted and its all a rather hot and sticky mess. [url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=398"]new pulley[/url]
one week later, new "ventilated" pully applied and my toothbrush is happily charging in the corner.
Until, there's another splintering sound. Engine rapidly switched off, boards are lifted once again in a hurry, to reveal a shredded belt. At £20 a throw, this is the 5th belt it's munched its way through in as many months. Careful application of another new belt shows the critical prescision fitting of the belt and the alternator pully sides.
Weeks pass, everything seems to running nicely, then >BANG< the inverter blows up.
[url="http://www.canalworld.net/forums/blog/honey_ryder/index.php?showentry=461"]new inverter[/url]
three weeks later, new inverter plumbed in, the travel power is humming along beautifully, new belt, new tensioner pulley, new inverter charger and my toothbrush has never been happier.
Its freezing cold outside, the washing machine is humming its way through is fortnightly wash when >CLICK<>CLICK< washing machine whirs back into action. We dismiss it as the water being so cold it is making the heater work more than usual...
until gradually without us really noticing the decline in performance, the travel power refuses to co-operate with the washing machine. >CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK<>CLICK< off
the fuse blows again.
a call to Beta Marine, new brushes ordered. one day later, new brushes fitted.
still no travel power. still no electric toothbrush.
a call to Beta Marine, followed by a call to Cox Automotives in Warwickshire...
one day booked off work to take the complete Electrolux travel power system for checking in Warwickshire.
I've put my electric toothbrush away now and gone back to a manual.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/Honey%20Ryder/DSC02740.jpg[/img]
24 March 2009
the brighter side to life
It seems the media is a worry wart, doom and gloom surround us. What is there worth getting up for when all around us the bank are losing our money, the companies we work for are ditching us to stay in business, our savings gather no interest, pensions are worthless and house prices are falling through the floor... yada yada yada..
well, quite frankly, I don't pay any mind to this endless attack on my sensibilities. Ive got far better things to think about, Im a positive thinker, a survivor, Im a cat that lands on its feet, my bread always lands butter side up. My cup is more than half full, its brimming.
I thought I should share my happiness with all around me and try to spread a little sunshine.
So, what is making me happy? What on earth has got my giggle up and made all the woes and ills of the world fade to the background as a distant hum?
LIFE, the unexplainable joy of living. its a simple idea really. but to feel the good, you also have to feel the bad. you also need to perhaps smoke something or find a chemical of your choosing to enable you to read on without bursting out into hysterical laughter and switching over to a less hippy channel. So here goes. ( I do not use chemicals or alcohol, and no drugs were used to form the basis of my theories and subsequent revelations.)
first with the bad:
Humans are a huge swarm of bottom feeding scum, greedy and viscious with a peculiar ability to inflict pain and suffering on its fellow species, as well as the rest of the amazing species this planet gives life to. It is the only species that wilfully and with predetermination will cause intense suffering in the name of an idea about creation, for monetary wealth or simply for the sheer fun of it. They have ruined an otherwise quite nice planet, where species live on a fragile knife edge of an eco system. Humans came along, claimed the planet as "theirs" and then started flogging off "pieces" of the planet to each other. thus deplacing many species, wiping them out and wearing their carcasses as trophies and decorations in their homes. Seemingly well eductated and peaceful humans continue to blight this poor planet by popping out yet more parasitic human spawn that will continue to strangle an already over populated planet. Selfish and entirely animalistic.
now for the good,
Humans also have the capacity for love and empathy. this is quite a rare trait amongst species, shared with only advanced mammals.
Some humans also have the grasp of a concept that everything on this planet is connected. we all came from the planet, it created us. the molecules we are made from, the swirling mini universes that make up each cell of our body originally came from the Earth, along with the particles our homes are made from, our computers, EVERYTHING is originally from the planet. it never goes away, it is simply recycled. All species, all life, is connected. we are one complex mass of interconnecting energy. ahmen for the planet and all who she allows to sail on her.
analysis:
with the yin and yang of the good and bad, after weeks of pondering over my trip to India and the meaning of life i came to a few conclusions.
1: riding bikes makes me glow from the inside
2: material possessions weigh my brain down
3: creating children is not going to solve the worlds problems, only add to them therefore I have decided NOT to take part in this activity.
4: too many clothes dont make you happy, they just fill your wardrobe and go mouldy
5: playing drums is a great way to express your inner rhythm
6: working long hours for 5 or more days a week is stupid and pointless
7: buying a small section of the Earth to claim as your own is also stupid and pointless
8: living a minimalist life is richer and more fulfilling than a life full of distractions.
9: my final revelation is, I have now realised I quite like living on my narrowboat.
yes, thats right, the revelation number 9, I have come through the hard times, I have re-discovered my life afloat and realised in fact, I actually quite like it.
finding your intergalactic oneness is easy really, you just have to open your eyes and ears to the world.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/flowers.jpg[/img]
plants have rhythm
well, quite frankly, I don't pay any mind to this endless attack on my sensibilities. Ive got far better things to think about, Im a positive thinker, a survivor, Im a cat that lands on its feet, my bread always lands butter side up. My cup is more than half full, its brimming.
I thought I should share my happiness with all around me and try to spread a little sunshine.
So, what is making me happy? What on earth has got my giggle up and made all the woes and ills of the world fade to the background as a distant hum?
LIFE, the unexplainable joy of living. its a simple idea really. but to feel the good, you also have to feel the bad. you also need to perhaps smoke something or find a chemical of your choosing to enable you to read on without bursting out into hysterical laughter and switching over to a less hippy channel. So here goes. ( I do not use chemicals or alcohol, and no drugs were used to form the basis of my theories and subsequent revelations.)
first with the bad:
Humans are a huge swarm of bottom feeding scum, greedy and viscious with a peculiar ability to inflict pain and suffering on its fellow species, as well as the rest of the amazing species this planet gives life to. It is the only species that wilfully and with predetermination will cause intense suffering in the name of an idea about creation, for monetary wealth or simply for the sheer fun of it. They have ruined an otherwise quite nice planet, where species live on a fragile knife edge of an eco system. Humans came along, claimed the planet as "theirs" and then started flogging off "pieces" of the planet to each other. thus deplacing many species, wiping them out and wearing their carcasses as trophies and decorations in their homes. Seemingly well eductated and peaceful humans continue to blight this poor planet by popping out yet more parasitic human spawn that will continue to strangle an already over populated planet. Selfish and entirely animalistic.
now for the good,
Humans also have the capacity for love and empathy. this is quite a rare trait amongst species, shared with only advanced mammals.
Some humans also have the grasp of a concept that everything on this planet is connected. we all came from the planet, it created us. the molecules we are made from, the swirling mini universes that make up each cell of our body originally came from the Earth, along with the particles our homes are made from, our computers, EVERYTHING is originally from the planet. it never goes away, it is simply recycled. All species, all life, is connected. we are one complex mass of interconnecting energy. ahmen for the planet and all who she allows to sail on her.
analysis:
with the yin and yang of the good and bad, after weeks of pondering over my trip to India and the meaning of life i came to a few conclusions.
1: riding bikes makes me glow from the inside
2: material possessions weigh my brain down
3: creating children is not going to solve the worlds problems, only add to them therefore I have decided NOT to take part in this activity.
4: too many clothes dont make you happy, they just fill your wardrobe and go mouldy
5: playing drums is a great way to express your inner rhythm
6: working long hours for 5 or more days a week is stupid and pointless
7: buying a small section of the Earth to claim as your own is also stupid and pointless
8: living a minimalist life is richer and more fulfilling than a life full of distractions.
9: my final revelation is, I have now realised I quite like living on my narrowboat.
yes, thats right, the revelation number 9, I have come through the hard times, I have re-discovered my life afloat and realised in fact, I actually quite like it.
finding your intergalactic oneness is easy really, you just have to open your eyes and ears to the world.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/flowers.jpg[/img]
plants have rhythm
23 February 2009
while we were away...
it snowed.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/honeyrider.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/honeyrider.jpg[/img]
the world is my ocean
I do like a good holiday.
It seems odd when I sit and think about it, that I have never taken a holiday on my own boat. I live on it, I move it around frequently but Ive never really thought to spend a whole two weeks of my holiday allocation cruising it nowhere, anywhere, just for the sheer holiday of it.
It also seems odd when I carry on thinking about my choices of holiday, that when I do make the effort to go away, I am magnetized to water. and very often, despite actually not liking canals, I end up on or around canals.
I travelled this time to southern India, and found myself exploring Kerala and some of its backwaters. (as well as the Indian ocean, getting my head wet.)
The main difference I can see between Indian canals and British canals, is that one is Indian and therefore has a tropical climate and the other British and is typically lined with fishermen looking like they got a day off from "peace keeping" in Afganistan.
The canals in Kerala are lined with mango and palm trees, cashew trees and paddy fields.
One thing that never changes though is pollution. Where there's a human, theres always pollution. Plastic bags. Diesel fumes. the air, land and water is polluted with the advancement of 'civilization'. the longer you wait to visit this place, the less chance you have of seeing it relatively unspoilt. however, the more people rush to go and see it, will hasten the speed of the spoiling.
here are few pics of the backwater canals near to Allepy in Kerala.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000139.jpg[/img]
the mooring spot was shaded with banana trees
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000161.jpg[/img]
we took a small boat, powered by paddle only. We were too lazy to paddle for ourselves so we paid a man to do it. It cost us the equivalent of £10 for 3 hours paddling. Most average Indian locals in this area earn around £60 a month, so looking at it like that, he's quite well paid.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06450.jpg[/img]
the local boat yard, building a new boat and upgrading an old one on the "dry dock".
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06482.jpg[/img]
there is a massive business in house boats in the region. They all moor along a set of pontoons, with people living aboard, waiting for people to book either through a travel agent abroad, or when they arrive with one of the masses of local house boat agencies. there are thousands of boats, all with varying levels of sophistication. most have air conditioning and all the comforts of a hotel, including a liveaboard cook and pilot.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000187.jpg[/img]
if you go eel fishing you might need a bigger rod, these particular local ones can be around two meters, and have a bit of a bite
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000173.jpg[/img]
children play in a corracle, and people use them as a general get about means of water transport
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06406.jpg[/img]
the school children get to and from school by boat too
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06419.jpg[/img]
Che gets everywhere
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06466.jpg[/img]
It seems odd when I sit and think about it, that I have never taken a holiday on my own boat. I live on it, I move it around frequently but Ive never really thought to spend a whole two weeks of my holiday allocation cruising it nowhere, anywhere, just for the sheer holiday of it.
It also seems odd when I carry on thinking about my choices of holiday, that when I do make the effort to go away, I am magnetized to water. and very often, despite actually not liking canals, I end up on or around canals.
I travelled this time to southern India, and found myself exploring Kerala and some of its backwaters. (as well as the Indian ocean, getting my head wet.)
The main difference I can see between Indian canals and British canals, is that one is Indian and therefore has a tropical climate and the other British and is typically lined with fishermen looking like they got a day off from "peace keeping" in Afganistan.
The canals in Kerala are lined with mango and palm trees, cashew trees and paddy fields.
One thing that never changes though is pollution. Where there's a human, theres always pollution. Plastic bags. Diesel fumes. the air, land and water is polluted with the advancement of 'civilization'. the longer you wait to visit this place, the less chance you have of seeing it relatively unspoilt. however, the more people rush to go and see it, will hasten the speed of the spoiling.
here are few pics of the backwater canals near to Allepy in Kerala.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000139.jpg[/img]
the mooring spot was shaded with banana trees
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000161.jpg[/img]
we took a small boat, powered by paddle only. We were too lazy to paddle for ourselves so we paid a man to do it. It cost us the equivalent of £10 for 3 hours paddling. Most average Indian locals in this area earn around £60 a month, so looking at it like that, he's quite well paid.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06450.jpg[/img]
the local boat yard, building a new boat and upgrading an old one on the "dry dock".
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06482.jpg[/img]
there is a massive business in house boats in the region. They all moor along a set of pontoons, with people living aboard, waiting for people to book either through a travel agent abroad, or when they arrive with one of the masses of local house boat agencies. there are thousands of boats, all with varying levels of sophistication. most have air conditioning and all the comforts of a hotel, including a liveaboard cook and pilot.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000187.jpg[/img]
if you go eel fishing you might need a bigger rod, these particular local ones can be around two meters, and have a bit of a bite
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1000173.jpg[/img]
children play in a corracle, and people use them as a general get about means of water transport
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06406.jpg[/img]
the school children get to and from school by boat too
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06419.jpg[/img]
Che gets everywhere
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/DSC06466.jpg[/img]
10 January 2009
look the water's gone stiff
at first it was a novelty, after it was a good photo opportunity, then it was a good cruise and funny smashing noises, followed by a learning curve of how to steer (or not) in the ice, then it was fun smashing the ice to be able to open lock gates, after that it was an interesting talking point at work. Now Im bored of it.
Yes it was exciting to draw the curtains and see the ice formed on the INSIDE
yes it was fun smashing through ice with the boat
yes its lovely and cosy with the fire lit, but its been a bit cold in the mornings since Mr X has been stingy with the coal at night.
theres been some good photo opportunities, but since its highlighted how crap my ancient 4 year old camera is, it gonna cost me a few squids to buy a new camera to match up to my expectations. Its bloody expensive this icy snowy freezing parky weather.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030101.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030099.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030102.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030106.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030112.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030111.jpg[/img]
Yes it was exciting to draw the curtains and see the ice formed on the INSIDE
yes it was fun smashing through ice with the boat
yes its lovely and cosy with the fire lit, but its been a bit cold in the mornings since Mr X has been stingy with the coal at night.
theres been some good photo opportunities, but since its highlighted how crap my ancient 4 year old camera is, it gonna cost me a few squids to buy a new camera to match up to my expectations. Its bloody expensive this icy snowy freezing parky weather.
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030101.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030099.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030102.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030106.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030112.jpg[/img]
[img]http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p213/jaynetoyne/P1030111.jpg[/img]
16 December 2008
Does it get cold in winter?
NO it bloody well doesnt.
what brick house have you ever lived in where its icy cold outside, theres an icy wind blowing and yet you are walking around in the buff inside, with the windows open sipping a cocktail and thinking of palm trees?
this narrowboat has to be the hottest place ive ever lived. mainly because Mr. X is nesh and likes it tropical. without him I probably wouldn't light the fire most of winter.
So now hes added an ecofan to make the bedroom hotter and to avoid me wearing pyjamas because he thinks they are passion killer.
its winter, i like snuggling up under my nice thick winter duvet, but now hes talking about putting the summer duvet back on! I say, put less wood in the stove and quit getting up so damned early for work, that's the real passion killer.
what brick house have you ever lived in where its icy cold outside, theres an icy wind blowing and yet you are walking around in the buff inside, with the windows open sipping a cocktail and thinking of palm trees?
this narrowboat has to be the hottest place ive ever lived. mainly because Mr. X is nesh and likes it tropical. without him I probably wouldn't light the fire most of winter.
So now hes added an ecofan to make the bedroom hotter and to avoid me wearing pyjamas because he thinks they are passion killer.
its winter, i like snuggling up under my nice thick winter duvet, but now hes talking about putting the summer duvet back on! I say, put less wood in the stove and quit getting up so damned early for work, that's the real passion killer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)