Herbie Awards resume - nervous moments

Well that was a longer than planned intermission.  Now you're probably all drunk from spending too long in the bar.  I console myself with the thought that while I've been too busy rounding up the family, like sheep from the hills, for the festivities, you've probably been to busy to read blogs like mine, so we're all square.

Now, last time I promised to look at an award for Most Nervous Boating Moment of 2019.  To be frank, you don't get a lot of nervous moments on the canal, such is the gentle pace of life and the relatively shallow and narrow waters.  Sometimes the most nerve wracking moments are to do with getting to the next pub before it closes, or "will there be room to moor at Aynho?" - stuff like that.  On the river of course it's a different matter.  Take, for instance our arrival at the meadows above Eynsham in October.

We were following another boat which we had met in the lock and were both looking to tie up as close to the village as we could without needing to pay for the privilege. "Just after the picket fence" the lock keeper had advised, so as soon as we saw a gap for two boats we went for it.  Stopping was easy because the river had a decent flow on it and we were facing upstream.  Sadly we found the reason why the gap was vacant - it was too shallow to get in properly, but we could get close enough for a gangplank, so,  centre rope in hand, I did my impression of Greg Rutherford on a short run up and leapt safely ashore and started to pull us in as close as possible.  That was when I realised that the river current was rather stronger than it looked as it caught Herbie's bow and tried to turn her downstream.  I deployed the old, but probably foolhardy, trick of passing the rope round my back and attempting to walk backwards.  As it turned out Old Father Thames was a bit stronger than I was and instead of walking backwards I was being dragged towards the river..My choices, as I saw them were towfold, either let go of the boat and let it sail off down stream on its own or get dragged in and sail off with it.  Nervous moment?  Just a bit.  Not wishing to adopt either choice I somehow found an extra ounce of strength as Kath threw a mooring stake and a lump hammer at me and by some miracle I managed to nail us to the bank.  Here we are once moored up and looking deceptively safe.

Now I hesitate to mention our other nervous moments because they concern being stranded by rising waters on the Thames, and seeing how some boaters like the lovely Sue  at the moment are surrounded by floods, our experience was of a much lower order.

Nevertheless the fact remains that on our last morning on the Thames we could sense that the river was rising fast as we made the very short dash from East Street to the Sheepwash channel in Oxford.  The river squeezes between narrow banks just there and forward progress was hard to make. Minutes after we got back to the safety of the canal, we checked the Thames website to see that red boards were going up all round. It's entirely possible that if we had left an hour or two later we might have been unable to move upstream and been stranded for days or even weeks.  As it was we were still held up by rising waters on the Cherwell, but only for 24 hours.

So I guess the Award should really go to Old Father Thames for staying so powerful in his old age.  respect to you sir.

As all both my regular readers know it is customary at Christmas to present the Herbie Special Award to a person or persons who have done something admirable over the year.  This year we have a mind to give it to someone we only met very briefly, but later discovered the joy he brings to other boaters as he did to us in our brief encounter.  Maybe it should be a Brief Encounter Award.

I'll spill the beans on Boxing day - you can put them in the bubble and squeak.

In the meantime Kath and I wish you a very happy Christmas Day.