Seventeen miles an hour isn't that much of a wind. That's the upper end of force 4 on the Beaufort scale. "Dust and loose paper raised. Small branches begin to move." However when it blows sideways across a narrowboat trying to slot into a narrow mooring slot in a marina, it makes things surprisingly hard. That's why Herbie is currently sitting outside Crick marina waiting for the wind to drop before we nip back in.
The wind blows awkwardly down our marina at the best of times. Crick seems to be a windy spot. Anyone taking a boat along past Crick and Yelvertoft lately can't fail to notice the whirling arms of the wind turbines recently erected there. I don't suppose they would have built the wind farm there unless they were assured it would be windy enough.
Last night we went with Rick to have a bash at the quiz at the Wheatsheaf in Crick (now a very good pub by the way). At the half time break we were lying second depsite being a much smaller team than our competitors. Questions on art and history and geography all fell within our stride. Then came the round on TV and film, and worse still the one where we had to recognise little parts of chocolate wrappers. We ended up 5th or 6th (can't remember which). Moral: must eat more chocolate - we didn't even recognise the letter e from a Cadbury's Flake wrapper.