Warp factor 7

We came up from Abingdon todayin a bit of a convoy - three, sometimes four of us meeting up at each lock. As it happens we were first in Abingdon lock, so first out and away. This week I've been a bit conscious that most boats seem to go a bit faster than us, so today we wound Herbie up to warp factor 7 (1800 rpm) in a bid to not hold up the others. Using my patent Herbiesoft Speedo Android phone app,


it looked like we were getting up to an amazing 4.6 mph at times. Kath was downstairs shouting "She canna take any more Captain" while I struggled with the G forces on the command deck.

When we got to Iffley lock I said to the lady on the next boat, "We weren't holding you up were we? That's about as quick as we can manage."

"Blimey no,"she said," you were going really fast, we could barely keep up!"

Aah well we've slowed down now to our customary 1400 rpm and at last we're on the "upper" Thames where the pace of life is more leisurely. Tonight, having departed Oxford via the amazing vastness of
Port Meadow, we dine al fresco on the moorings below Eynsham lock. ( That's spelt K-E-Y-N-S-H-A-M only without the K.(apologies to anyone below about 65 years old who won't get that joke.))



Tomorrow we venture into waters hitherto unpenetrated by Herbie. I'm particularly keen to revisit my old haunt of Newbridge where the lovely river Windrush ( possibly named after a ship full of Jamaicans) joins the Thames. There we shall have the dilemma of choosing whether to give our patronage to The Maybush or The Rose Revived, or I suppose we could do both.

Thames trivia

Here we are at Abingdon. Well here's Kath at any rate. Someone has to take the photo.

I love the waterfront here, so many lovely old buildings, and the moorings are not only lovely but free too.

I was annoyed on the way here seeing that this Thames side house



had been sold. If only we had come by earlier I could have bought it with the proceeds from my book. Hmm well I might have been able to afford the Sold sign anyway.

Thames thoughts No 1:

I have decided that the Thames looks gorgeous when the sun shines but often drab when it doesn't shine. Something to do with the reflections or lack of them on the wide water. Luckily we've had enough sunny periods to enjoy some lovely scenes.

Thames cruising handy hint No 1:

We've got a broom with rubber bristles, and it has proven a boon for sweeping the dried goose poo off the grass to clear a patch to sit out and have a BBQ. Last night at Day's lock we really needed it.

Thames cruising handy hint No 2:

Take a boat hook to pick up the coil of rope from your boat roof when you enter a deep lock on self service (as most have proven to be). Ours must look a bit like a harpoon since one lockie said to Kath, "Are you going whaling with that?"

One off the bucket list

Well it would have been a shame to moor in Reading without taking the canal trip through the town centre, so that's what we decided to do before we turned round and headed back up the Thames. Reading is our local big town, so we know it well, but we've never boated through it. The canal follows a narrow and twisting route through the Oracle shopping centre, and because it is narrow and twisting and the current is often strong, there is a traffic light system to avoid opposing boats meeting in the middle. It was fun.



Once through, we just turned round below the County Lock weir and did the whole thing in the other direction. The turning was a bit scary, because I wasn't sure how deep the pool was or how strong the current was. I just stuck the bow out into the stream and let the current swing us while I kept the stern close to the bank. The weir is barely a foot high, but there's a strongish flow over it. I suppose the front of theboat was about two thirds across the river.


It was fine, but I'm not sure I'd do it after a week's heavy rain. The Kennet has a hell of a pace on it sometimes.

Anyway we enjoyed the little jaunt immensely and felt we had crossed something off our bucket list.

So after that urban fix, we're now back out in the sticks and tied up for the night in a quiet spot in Beale Park.



We ought to be making a bit more progress on the way back up river but Herbie seems comfortable at about 4 mph (as measured by my home developed Herbiesoft Speedo App) which is a good bit slower than the plastic cruisers and a little bit slower than most other narrowboats, but we find it less tiring when Herbie is happy.

Who knows where we'll be tomorrow night? I don't.

Reading Gaol

I think Reading Gaol is now shut, but readers of my first novel Jobs for the Boys might think that that is where the opening chapter is set. In the interests of anonymity of inmates I couldn't possibly comment.

The moorings here are I suppose the best in Reading, but they do cost £9.50 for 24 hours. A number of boaters who fail to comprehend the small print on the signs claim that it costs £100. Cobblers! That's what they could demand if you fail to comply with the procedure. You pay on line.

Here's us tied up there.





That's the prison wall on the left in the lower picture. Next to that (not shown)are the attractive old abbey ruins

Carol asked where it was, so here goes.

From the Thames turn down Kennet mouth and pass through Blake's lock. Shortly afterwards, just after the Weir on you right take the sharp right hand turn and follow round through two low bridges ( not much more than 7ft for the first one) and there you are. It's called Chestnut Walk. The town centre shops are barely five minutes walk away. To get back to the Thames just follow round the loop back to the lock. No winding required.

Oscar and me

Here is our view from the window as I write. We're at Pangbourne meadow, empty when we arrived late this morning and now choc a bloc with boats. It was a ridiculously short run from Goring, but we are pacing ourselves to arrive in Reading tomorrow for Grace's birthday.

Kath took the train into Reading to do some shopping while I rested my rather painful left knee. She came back with a thing to strap it up, scarily robust. I feel like my leg is in plaster.

I have been reading Oscar Wilde's Picture of Dorian Gray ( well it was free on Kindle)and I must say I'm finding his smarty Alec prose a bit annoying. Contrived, I think I would call it. However as one great author to another, I'll do him the honour of pressing on in order to see how it unfolds.

I have to admit that the river is very attractive down here, if somewhat gentrified. We might moor up by the prison in Reading tomorrow, that won't be so salubrious, at least it wasn't when I did a bit of work with young offenders in that establishment in the 70s. Now I'm in my 70's I suppose I might be an old offender. I find that thought quite stimulating.

Of course old Oscar himself spent a while in Reading jail( or gaol), so perhaps we have more in common that I first thought. He was of course in there for outraging public decency whereas my young offenders were mostly in for "Taking and driving away" and such like. Happy days.

PS look at the sunset outside the boat now


PPS I'm writing this blog post on my phone. How magic is that?

What rich people can buy.

Yesterday's lovely mooring above Day's lock does have one disadvantage; the wind fairly whistles across the river there. Admittedly it did push us securely against the river bank, but we were buffeted overnight. When we set off this morning we feared a blustery trip, but once we got round the corner we had no further trouble, apart that is from having forgotten how to work a Thames lock when it's on self service. We didn't realise that mere mortals like boaters are prevented from operating sluices and gates from the console at the opposite end, while superior beings like lock keepers have no such restriction.

We passed quite a few more ultra posh houses today. I don't now how people get all that dosh but it sure ain't through a regular wage or salary. Maybe it's by selling their one bedroom flat in Knightsbridge and moving up country.

Anyhow we got to Goring about lunch time and tied up on the moorings below the lock.



Soon after we were joined by a family on a hire cruiser from Kris Cruisers of Datchet. A nice boat if you like that sort of thing, nowhere near as huge as many you see on the Thames.



Now I have some sort of notion of the price of most narrowboats we see, but when it comes to these tupperware boats, I had no idea. Luckily this sort of boat tends not to be bespoke like a lot of narrowboats, so like a car it has a make and a model number for all to see. A quick call to Mr Google got me a price and I was fairly stunned. £215k for a new one, or you can pick up a ten year old one for around £100k. I mean it's not as if you would want to sell up your house and live aboard on of these things like narrowboaters do. That makes narrowboats look very good value don't you think? It also makes you realise how much spare cash some of these private owners must have to splash out on what is usually a weekend boat. And they still have enough left for Breton fisherman's smocks and yellow wellies. Not that I'm envious or anything.

I looked up the cost of hiring the boat, and the next available slot was 7 days in October for £1400. A bit dearer than a narrowboat hire, but compared with the cost of each boat, it looks like the canal hire companies get a better return on their outlay.

An everyday story of country folk

Dum de dum de dum de dum ( If you don't know why I wrote that, just forget it and read on).

After cruising through Abingdon, admiring its gorgeous old waterfront, (I can't think of a better one) we pressed on past posh boathouses, sweeping lawns and the houses of the super rich until we reached the moorings above Day's lock (near Dorchester) that looked so inviting that we decided to stop. All the way along we have been supervised from above by red kites who looked down on us wondering if we were good enough to eat. Some came very close. We also saw three kingfishers.



After lunch on the river bank, the amiable young farmer stopped to collect our mooring charge and stayed chatting for an age. We saw pictures of his prize show cattle, he has longhorns, Belgian blues, and Herefords and often gets first prize in shows. Then we heard the tale of how the wild geese had eaten all the grass his cattle should have had on the riverside meadow (apparently three geese can eat as much grass as a cow) and how grass and hay is very short this year, and finally his scary stories of run ins with hare coursers.

The hare coursers come from far and wide (Wales even), mostly operating at night in the stubble fields where they unleash their dogs, betting large sums on which one will catch the hare. The local farmers hate them and work closely with local police to catch them when they can. Such is the dislike of this practice, the police are always ready to send up their helicopter (at great expense) to help with catching the coursers. The baddies use their 4x4s to make their escapes while the police give chase, on one occasion doing serious damage to their posh BMW police car. Sadly, even when they do catch them, the coursers don't suffer any significant punishment and so it goes on.

Some of the coursers know that the farmer is helping the police and on one occasion set fire to his straw store to warn him off.

Well it was a very entertaining chat, and we didn't begrudge the farmer his £8, especially when we were told the money is going into a fund to improve the river bank for moorers.

Thames tribulations

Phew! We're not used to all this rivering lark.

Last night whilst still on the Hythe bridge canal arm in Oxford we went out for a pub meal with Bones, Maffi and Susan starting at the Royal Oak (nice pub) and ending at the ice cream emporium down the road (also recommended). I mention that I was having concerns about getting under Osney bridge (now I know it's pronounced Oasney). Maffi, ever helpful, said " never mind Osney, the bridge in the Sheepwash channel, (under which we would need to pass), is the really low one. "

That did my confidence no good at all and I confess to losing a bit of sleep that night worrying about what we would do if we couldn't get under due to our stuck fast chimney.

This morning we prepped the boat, readying the anchor etc, and set off up the arm towards Isis lock. That bit was easy as we had backed into the arm so we could come out forwards. Then of course we had to go through the lock backwards which was fine although because of the wind direction I had to do a 450 degree turn to face us up the Sheepwash channel. The boat following us was very bemused they told us later. Anyway, halfway through that turn, I glanced down the channel to see the bridge, which only looked to be about five feet over the water. Well it was, but that was not the bit we had to get under. In the event we had about a foot to spare, and under Osney bridge more like fifteen inches. Yippee!

Osney lock next where we splashed out £109 for a two week Thames licence and then on down through Folly bridge where you feel a bit special


and then on to Iffley.

Well that was nice. Then we learned that Iffley lock was out of commission because of a split hydraulic hose. You don't get them on the canals, nineteenth century engineering has it's benefits you see. The lady lock keeper was very nice but told us that she was trying without success to contact the contractor who fixes these things.
The lockies so far have all been very friendly and it seems that some of the have a good sense of humour, as shown by this sign at Abingdon lock.



We settled in and had lunch, realising that this was a nice spot and if we were stranded overnight it would be no bad thing.



Although I looked up the advice we had had from Still Rockin' Carol giving a thumbs down on the nearby pub :(

The boat tied up behind us was full of eight people from Oz who seemed cool about the delay. One of them was waxing lyrical about English ale, having sampled an alarming amount in the two and a half days since their plane landed. He was keen to learn more so I recommended a few to him. Kath wandered over complaining that the wind was getting chilly. I said, think of these poor souls from Oz, they had just told me it was usually 50 degrees back home. "That's only in the bloody shade", said the man.

Eventually a man with spanners appeared and isolated the split hose, thus allowing
the lock to operate on one sluice. To loud cheers the lock once again fulfilled its purpose and we set of in search of Abingdon, some three and a half hours behind schedule.

I'm not a fan of long wide Thames reaches where all there is to see is willow trees and water and we were very glad when we we sighted Abingdon lock just a couple of minutes after the lockie had clocked off for the night. Many thanks the the German? lady who knew how to do the lock on self service and saw us through to the excellent free moorings below the lock where we are now.



A partially stressful day, but now I've had one of Kath's G&Ts it all seems fine.

Backing up

Well we plucked up Courage today and dared to reverse Herbie down the narrow little arm at the end of the canal in Oxford. It's a bit of a palaver, requiring us to drop down Isis lock, turn round, the come straight back up the lock before reversing down the arm, a long row of moored boats on one side and muddy shallows and overhanging bushes on the other.
Kath bravely took the tiller while I fooled about on the bow prodding things with the long shaft in an attempt to keep us straight. Despite my best efforts we didn't manage to hit any boats or run aground in the bushes, but it was hardly a showpiece demonstration. However we're now in what must be one of the best moorings in this fair city.





And only a couple of minutes walk from the city centre. Worth the effort.

Maffi called by and introduced us to his friend Susan while we all drank tea, and then I wandered off down the road to view our next challenge, Osney Bridge.



It sure looks low, and our chimney is still stuck fast on the flue and cannot be removed so we'll just have to tell it to duck as we go under. According to the charts and my measurements of our air draft, we should have six inches to spare. Fingers crossed. That'll be on Sunday after we've had a mini city break amongst the supposed dreaming spires.

Ever since Aynho the canal water levels have been fine. I don't know where all the water is coming from.

Ps I amended my canal place gps gathering app to record the time (as supplied by the satellite) as we pass each spot on the list. Now I can look back at our timings and speeds. This is getting more like Formula 1 data work by the minute. Engine revs next?

Killing time

We're going about as slow as we can so that we don't reach Thames too early. Today we cruised for about an hour and a half to here at Somerton meadow. No troubles with canal depth today. It looks pretty normal actually. Across the meadow, the Cherwell has water in it, but it looks to me to be about eighteen inches below where it should be.


In the long hours sitting out here on the meadow I wrote a phone app that will help me record the latitude and longitude of a list of points along the canal as we pass. Maybe sometime I'll use the results to build a "where am I?" app for when I get senile. Anyone who has done any coding will know that the code doesn't have to be useful, it's just fun to see if you can do it.

Thrupp tomorrow if all goes to plan.

The meaning of Forty Two

Hmm, what do you think the number forty two might represent?

A) the answer to the meaning of life, the universe and everything

B) my waist measurement in inches ( not quite )

C) the exact number of years to the day when Kath and I got married.

Answer: C

We were realistic about our chances, agreeing that if we got five happy years together the effort would have been worth it. On that score, we're doing pretty well. Kath reckons she's had three already!

Of course forty two is six times seven which means I should have had the seven year itch six times by now. I'll pass on that one. In fact I'll probably stick with Kath for good now, having failed to find anyone better.

How are we going to celebrate? Well we're out on the canal so the options are limited. It's a toss up between full English breakfast at Wetherspoons in Banbury or a slap up meal at The Great Western when we reach Aynho. I'm torn.


Well I wrote all that earlier, and now we are at Aynho so that's decided that one. I'm happy to report that despite the drought we are still finding good blackberries in the hedgerow, so our breakfast cereal will be augmented as usual.

Speaking of drought, the pound above Kings Sutton lock was perilously low. We heard lots of tales of groundings. We got through ok but it makes me wonder if we're going to get back up the canal on our return journey later this month.

Must finish now, the Great Western beckons. Hoping to meet up with Bones tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Strange wet stuff hits Oxford canal.

Look closely you young 'uns. See those droplets on Herbie? That's what in the old days before the great drought we used to call rain. Realising that something ought to be done to bring about this meteorological miracle, Kath and I have commenced our late summer/ early autumn cruise. It's an old trick but it often works. As I write I can hear it drumming on the roof of the boat.

So here we are at the end of day 1 and we have got all the way to Banbury ( in the car that would have taken ten minutes). To be fair though, we didn't start until after lunch. The morning was spent in getting everything ship shape and Bristol fashion, stowing the Anchor ready for the mighty Thames, doing an oil change and stuff like that.

People coming the other way keep telling us that it's very shallow down Kings Sutton way. I shall resolutely stick to the middle.

Actually I'm a bit relieved that the water is low because the nice smart chimney that Alex made us is suck fast on the flue so we can't remove it in case of the low bridge at Osney. Apparently we need to be less than 7ft 6in air draft. I measured us and we're under seven feet to the top of the chimney so that's ok.

Coo, it's raining quite hard now. So gratifying to know that one's sacrifices are not in vain.

Stay tuned.