Date: Fri, 17 Aug 2001 09:25:18 +0100 From: Robert Head Reply-To: Canals To: Canals Subject: Summer Cruise of Tanglefoot [ The following text is in the "iso-8859-1" character set. ] [ Your display is set for the "US-ASCII" character set. ] [ Some characters may be displayed incorrectly. ] Everybody else seems to post their trips so you can have my essay "What I did in my summer holidays" all in one hit. BobH Scene 1. Late June in the Big Smoke. We spent a week moored in Limehouse Basin, expensive £96 with all services, but great fun, super atmosphere, loads of very friendly local boat residents, good pubs and only 3 miles from work. We left at 5 am on the Saturday morning while the scroats of the East End were still in bed. We made good time and having stopped for lunch and Tesco's at Bulls Bridge jacked up at Uxbridge to meet a friend for evening drinks. A long day but as we have cruised London to death; we now, just tranp on through. Scene 2. The big climb The next three days were spent climbing up to Berkhampstead where we were to collect a Crew member, Orrr-stralian Shelia who had never been on a N/B before. The Sunday morning was enlightened when I went to moor at the lower lock moorings at Harefield. Taking up the first part of the mooring was a plastic, its occupants sitting on the bank reading the papers etc, not withstanding the 80yards of clear mooring before the locks. This made the approach tight. On the mooring itself, Dad and three kids fishing. Give them a toot indicate am pulling in and asked them to move. Other than pulling their lines in no action. Jump off Tanglefoot, skip jive (Showing my age) over rods and gear while brushing hooks aside and bring 15 ton of boat to a stop. Say to Dad "this is a silly place to fish, you should not be fishing here,other boats are following behind me and they will also pull in here to use the lock" "Fxxk off, you fat bastard" came the pleasant reply, both statements being true, but not what I wanted to hear on a sunny morning. At this point, if usual form had been followed, the red mist would have come down, a string of words learnt whilst serving in the Royal Navy for 11 years would have followed, leading on to hand-bags at 12 paces. No I kept my cool and replied, "You have a very bad mouth on you, are these your children" Chopped off right at the knees, he went crashing down. Off I went to work the lock. As I departed the Capt/CinC/Chief Pilot/Wife/Chrissie heard him say. "Fxxking old git can't tell me where to fish". Capt then goes into one, "What did you say, you are endangering both the safety of our boat and your children, get off the lock mooring" red mist day for her, normally Mrs Mild. Dad and offspring skulk away. Scene 3 Summit pound and beyond. On the Wednesday morning, Miss Sydney 1968 and myself are working the last but one lock of the Marmsworth six, going down towards the Aylesbury Arm, with another boat. Suddenly Capt screams out "Bob the boat is tilting" shut paddles jump on roof and try to kick it free before flooding lock back up. It would appear that my side anode, river fit out, had caught on a projecting brick. A one in ten thousand chance, they matched up exactly and we were held against the wall by the other boat. After that fun we go down the Aylesbury Arm, very beautiful and rural. So much water about that every lock was spilling over top and bottom gates. Lower paddles had to be left open going up and down. Moor in basin at Aylesbury, 3 minutes from the town centre, the local boat club have a welcome boat every day and sort you out a mooring, normally out board of three or so other boats. Power points if required, stay 14 days no charge, 50p meter for power, showers, kitchen etc. "Thanks Aylesbury Boat Club if your listening" Scene 4 About turn. We stayed for 24 hours but like most country towns in Britain they all seem the same, you have to ask to know which one you are in. Friday Miss Sydney 1968 departs to carry out other civic duties and we start down towards London. Next fun near Watford, we come across a 70 footer that had lost his rudder stuck on the mud. Having hauled a boat 8 miles and 13 locks to David Pipers yard in similar circumstances offer to pull him off. Do the good deed but the other boat, contrary to requests then fails to go astern slewing me round putting my bow into a tree on the off side. Glass in cratch now broken. During all this trip if we were anywhere between Cowley Peachy and Limehouse we had visitors for dinner. Family and friends or other lost souls. I think they thought it saves us going to the country to see the Heads. On the Wednesday we left Limehouse and back up the Lee and Stort reaching Sawbo and our moorings on Friday. We saw only three boats moving in these three days, all going the other way. They told us that we were the only boat they had seen on the move, a bit spooky. "That's it Folks" a Looney Tune Production ---