Blog

I feel I need to preface this little blog with a disclaimer – it does not describe any non essential cruising in lockdown, just the random bits we managed over summer 😊.

We often take the boat out for a night or two – as soon as there is a spare weekend or couple of days in the week, we are off. Luckily from our marina we can turn right or left and wind (turn the boat) within an easy cruise. If we go left and have only one night, we turn at Swarkstone and moor outside The Ragley Boat Stop. This does involve going through a scary double lock, which surely houses at least quadruple the normal amount of alligators, all starving and waiting patiently. I’m pretty sure I would make a substantial meal! I can almost hear the mummy alligator whispering to baby alligator ‘don’t worry Geoff, she’ll soon make a mistake and then it’s dinner for you!’ I lay the blame for this type of imagery on my Mum who freely shared stories of alligators in locks when we were kids, clearly subscribing to the idea that some pointless terror in childhood can only be a good thing. Anyway, I digress. The Ragley Boat Stop mooring is lovely as long as you don’t mind people from the pub coming down to enjoy the canal and kids with a variety of dogs playing by the boat. Randomly and certainly not just here, small children and/or dogs will just climb on the boat and say hello – I generally don’t mind and so far it’s been easy to hand the offending mammal back to its original owners. The mooring has electric hook-up and the food is comparable to the pubs in our village, so we are happy to moor up and enjoy a cheeky lunch with a glass of wine (these days seem far far behind us at the moment). We have stayed the night here and were aware of people being close and kids playing but weren’t bothered by it, although bothered or not is very mood dependant! The first time we moored here, to distract ourselves from the piles of unaccustomed people milling around due to the lovely day, we dismantled a built in wardrobe…

If we go right out of the marina, we head towards Willington. The winding point is just opposite The Dragon pub, 10 minutes cruise from the marina and a perfect place to turn and spend the evening. We do also spend a lot of random time on the boat, odd nights when there is either no work the following day or (and this is my favourite) after working a set of nights. I also have nights on my own with 1 or a few of the dog pile, depending on what Keith is working or what the youngest daughter is doing.

The first time we turned at the winding hole in Willington a chap on the towpath thanked me for providing free entertainment! This bit of canal is a popular place with boats and people and I had spotted the perfect mooring space just up from the winding hole, just behind a boat selling wooden figures. Wanting to face the direction of the marina so I didn’t have to turn the boat in the morning, we decided to wind and then bring the boat seamlessly into the identified space. Having no better judgement in the matter, I decided to go past the winding hole and then reverse into it, swinging my bow round and so slotting straight into the mooring. Simple!

No, it rapidly became evident that it is not simple. Or, rather, it is, I just like to make life hard for myself. Reversing into the winding hole was the easy bit but then I just couldn’t bring the bow of the boat around to the left. No matter what I tried she would not swing around, I just kept moving backwards and forwards across the canal, at this point stopping any other boats from passing and collecting a growing crowd of onlookers. A few people even left the pub garden and came to sit on the grass by the towpath for a clearer view. Of course, no-one left their glasses behind, why would you when you’ve got the chance for a bit of alfresco drinking and some unadvertised entertainment? At this point, I realise that there is a large poo 💩 floating next to the stern and give up trying to turn the boat as I look at it in a sort of horrified stupor. I am by no means squeamish, but I was certainly not expecting to find a large poo bobbing by! Anyway, the chap in the trade-boat has now taken pity on us and Keith throws him the rope from the bow. He pulls us around to the left, bringing the boat neatly alongside the towpath. A couple who have stopped walking their dog to watch the free show give us a bit of a clap and continue on their journey. A gentleman sitting on the bench with a pint asks us if we will be back tomorrow and the crowd gradually disperses as it becomes evident that the entertainment is over. We give the trader a beer and he gives us a lesson in how to use the winding hole, which mainly consists of ‘put your nose in to the apex and not your bottom!’

It still amazes me that I can start attempting a manoeuvre and there is not a soul around but as soon as I start to bugger it up we have magically collected an audience! This seems to apply on both busy stretches of canal in summer and on cold wet miserable isolated bits! The opposite never ever happens. Ever. I do manage to move my boat around, moor up and navigate tricky bits of canal with elegance and, occasionally, a bit of grace. I am, however, yet to be seen doing this by a single person! And, no, Keith doesn’t count!