Here for the beer... and a few other things

So many people that we encounter, on the tow path, and around locks, often sigh and say how envious they are of our adopted lifestyle. Well, here’s how we normally spend our Sundays folks – in the local launderette. It often means a walk of a couple of miles there and back, normally in the rain, where we spend two to three hours as drums whirr, and my glasses steam up, in some run-down establishment, normally on the wrong side of the tracks.

Another Sunday....another launderette

Glamorous or what! And who wouldn’t want to empty the contents of your loo down a smelly hole, in a wooden hut, every couple of days. Corr, this is the life!

Most folks also think that cruising in the rain would be a problem and uncomfortable, but I say “bring it on”. After spending several years commuting into central London every day on a motorbike, getting wet presents no problem for me.  It’s the wind that I, and most boaters, do not like. Having little or no control over your pride and joy is no fun, especially when a big gust catches you sideways on, and sends you careering towards the bank, or inevitably, another boat.

The trusty fold-up Brompton delivers "The French Bread Express"

Listen to me, sounding like some sort of expert. It was only a year ago this week that the boat was lifted into the water and I got the chance to cruise on her, albeit, pulled by another boat, our pals on “Jandai”.

 Despite my general indifference to the weather, and by that I mean the wind and rain, it does impair our movements a bit, and while we have enjoyed a bit of an Indian summer up to last weekend, that has changed since we have arrived in London, and over the last days, it has rained on and off pretty much all of the time, though, to be fair, those in the North and North East have had a torrid time compared to us in the south. The shot of a narrowboat half submerged in York on the news on Tuesday night was particulary disturbing. Our worst day was Monday and we just stayed put and read books and watched TV most of the day.

Pat’s been nagging me for some time and I finally caved in last Sunday and lit our wood-burning stove for the first time since May on our return from the launderette. It soon became very toasty and I guess it’s the sign of the times that will now be lit most days now that autumn has well and truly arrived.

A novel form of propulsion

Last week I posed a question to our regular visitors to this blog. Why are there so many coconuts in the Grand Union in the Greenford, Southall, Brentford area?  A couple of you have told me that the local Hindu population in that area throw coconuts into the canal after family funerals, in the hope they will reach the sacred River Ganges. From our experience, most are stopping lock gates from fully closing!

The journey from Greenford up through Uxbridge and Harefield to Rickmansworth has been far more picturesque than I had imagined or remembered. Rural, with lots of lakes and rivers running alongside as we skirted the Gade Valley. Each bend offered a new take of the canal, with  smart gardens tumbling down to the waters edge but little of no wildlife, except the obligatory ducks and swans and the sounds of owls hooting at night. The lock gates and paddles have proven very heavy and we’ve deliberately taken it slowly, after the frantic pace of the last couple of months, finding time to entertain my step mom and brother, and my pal Wenda and her partner Headley during the week.

We are currently moored in the centre of Rickmansworth, close to Batchworth Lock, which means we are now officially back in Hertfordshire – our home county. My family have lived here for at least 400 years, though generally in the north of the county, around Hitchin. Coming back to Herts means we are going to be very busy entertaining friends and family, and Pat’s diary is pretty full over the next few weeks as we snake our way through Watford, Hemel Hempstead and up to Leighton Buzzard and Milton Keynes.



At last, my own long-term mooring (but not so much of the historic, thankyou)



And if people can get to us, I can do the same the other way. There’s a green line bus that links Harlow to Heathrow and leaves the railway station here in Rickmansworth each hour, linking Watford, St Albans, Welwyn Garden and Hertford. So yesterday I visited my GP in Welwyn Garden, had a bite to eat with some of my pals at John Lewis and then zipped over to St Albans for the St Albans Beer Festival, my normal spiritual home for this one week of the year, since I helped launch it some 17 years ago. It was strange to attend as a guest rather than an organisor, but was good to see all my CAMRA pals. At this rate my bus pass will be in meltdown!

I've Got A Lovely Bunch Of ...

Yet another coconut!. Me with Paul, Pete and Roy,

It’s been positively tropical this week. Our cruise down the Thames from Reading to Brentford saw us basking in the warm September sunshine while flocks of parakeets  darted around our heads.  And then there were the coconuts. As soon as we entered the Grand Union, they started to appear in locks and on the cut. We counted  25 just today. We can’t work it out where they have come from. I was in two minds whether to break out my Hawaiian shirt and give the crew a chorus of “Agadoo”. Any boating chums out there know there are so many coconuts in the Grand Union.

I’ll get back to the Thames in a bit, but we pitched up in Reading this time last week and moored in the middle of the town in a little basin, close to the Oracle centre. Good mooring but no water and no method of emptying loos. There followed an almost fanatical regime from yours truly about using water, but our tank lasted, with care, over five days, and when I finally filled up on Monday afternoon, it was still ¼ full.

Last Friday night we returned to Hertfordshire for my pal Sue’s retirement party, which had a nautical theme, so we just chucked our life jackets on and wore some of headwear brought for us as a joke when we first started on this boating lark.

The kids flew back to New Zealand very early of Sunday morning. Sad to see them go but we will be with them over Christmas the New Year. My crew for our Thames adventure turned up later that afternoon. Several weeks previously we’d  had a difficult journey from Oxford to Reading, and Pat was not looking forward to another 60 miles of the Thames, running wild. So she tootled off to spend some time with a couple of her pals, and to sort out the sale of our trusty old Picasso, as we settled in at Wetherspoons, across the basin, for a drink or two.

Windsor Castle from the Thames

The Cat's Whiskers approaches Cookham Lock

Our journey down the Thames, was nothing but very pleasant. Not much of a current and tot, sunny days and empty locks, but finding a mooring, especially a free one, is a bloody nightmare.  They took another £110 from us to travel down the 60-or so miles, and then they want you pay between £6 and £50 a night to moor.

Hat’s off here to Staines and Kingston, who have some very good 24 hour free moorings. Henley, Marlow and Cookham: hang your heads in shame.

Two of my crew, Paul and Peter, were keen to helm, so it was like a bit of a holiday for me, and I took the opportunity to relax as we glided past Windsor Castle and Hampton Court, as well as the multi-million pound pads of “Rolf”, “Cilla” and “Parky”.

The last bit was a bit a dash. From Teddington to Brentford is tidal and high tide was around 5pm. Four boats set off and we really motored on down, through Richmond and Kew to the sharp left turn back on to the Grand Union at Brentford. We had booked the lock for 6.30pm, and got there at 6.28pm. The lock keeper was well impressed at our timing.

TCW finishes its 60-mile Thames trip at Brentford as the sun goes down

After mooring in the basin at Brentford overnight, we whizzed up the Hatton Flight, through Hanwell and Southall. Here I got the chance to get off the boat and do a bit of locking, which I rarely get a chance to do, while Peter piloting TCW safely up the flight.

The boys needed a tube station to get home, so we turned on to the Paddington arm and finished the cruise at The Black Horse in Greenford, where I said goodbye to them all at 5,30pm and hello again to Pat an hour later.

This weekend we got back on to the main line and start to inch northwards through Uxbridge and Harefield. We will be in Rickmansworth by next Wednesday, ready for my visit to the St Albans Beer Festival and my GP.

Pat's Autumn Almanac

This week Pat writes:

Since Erica, James and Livi left the boat, we have concentrated on getting all domestic tasks completed with the use of our electric hook-up. It was quite a novelty to have “on-tap” electricity after months of generating our own.  So everything was washed, and thankfully the good weather enabled us to dry everything quickly. I even managed to do a complete change of bedding, and get it all dry, before my cousin Janet and her hubby Bob came on board on Saturday. This was ahead of Sunday, which saw us all heading back to Little Marlow for the christening of Olivia Ann. As usual she cruised through all the attention paid to her from people she has never seen before. The weather was perfect, as was the day. Loads of family and friend descended on the King’s Head, where a small celebration took place in her honour.

Speech time at the Christening

First time out for our travel iron and mini ironing board, ahead of our christening

As the sun went down, we hopped on a train and headed back to Newbury to prepare for our departure the next day. We filled up with water and all the other chores that are necessary and then it started to rain. And rain. And rain. On my walks down the towpath, between locks and swing bridges, I was made aware of how we are now moving inexorably into the autumn months: leaves were falling from the trees and there was a distinct chill in the air that I hadn’t felt before.  

Friends and family enjoy the September sunshine after the Christening

Monday night we met up with Barry and Helen at Woolhampton for a meal. We travelled from Newbury to Devizes with them a few weeks back and they keep their boat “Midnight” in Froud’s Bridge Marina, not far from Aldermarston.  They are currently preparing their boat for a re-paint so we dropped in to see the progress they had made and took the opportunity to fill up with diesel. God it’s expensive down here. We were buying it 20p a litre cheaper in the Midlands.  Our plan is to arrive in Reading on Thursday and will stay there to say goodbye on Sunday to the kids before they fly home to New Zealand. I am then leaving the boat for a week while Roger takes The Cat’s Whiskers from Reading, down the Thames and onto the Grand Union. He has invited three friends to assist on the journey. So it’s a lad’s week on board. I don’t know what goes on during these breaks and I am hoping I don’t find out. I am off for a girly break with plenty of baths and white wine.

The first time in four years we have all been together

Floating Kiwis

Living in a narrowboat can be a little claustrophobic. Our boat may be 60ft long, but in common with most others of its type, it is only 6ft 10in wide. You need to be organised and tidy. Now I am pretty well organised, but by no stretch of the imagination am I particularly tidy.

Now add in our daughter Erica, her husband James and their five-month daughter Olivia (Livi) on board and the dynamic shifts enormously. I had forgotten how much stuff was needed to keep a little one like Livi functioning, but it was an absolute joy having them aboard, even if it was only for three days, which flew by.



Our grandaughter arrives at the Marina



Livi is a little treasure – very placid with a very cheeky smile. Although Pat had been to NZ to see her, just after she was born, this was our first encounter. I think I handled myself reasonably well. Livi’s behaviour was exemplorary and if she whinged a little, it was only because she is teething.

"The Cat's Whiskers"

Erica likes to bath Livi every night before bed. In the absence of a bath on board, the galley sink was pressed into use, and proved to be a very suitable alternative.

Galley sink becomes a bubble bath

Our original intention was to go away for a couple of days, but we decided to just do a day afloat. Erica and Livi sat at the bow and enjoyed the view. James flitted between them and doing a bit of lock duty, when required. I think James was a bit non-plussed when he saw this sign as we went into Newbury town. It’s a bit extreme, don’t you think.

Last Saturday night we went out for a change. James’ parents run a pub in Little Marlow and they put on a belated 30^th birthday for Erica. It was a low key affair, but the sun shined and James’ father Clive, rustled up the biggest paella I have ever seen. It must have been good. Pat went back for seconds, which is very unusual for her.

Clive stirs his paella

We are here now in Newbury for just a few more days. On Monday we head off for Reading, a distance of about 20 miles. We hope to be there on Thursday or Friday and the following Monday head off down the Thames towards London.

James, Erica and baby Livi

The Generation Game

One of the Kingfisher narrowboat family, “Dai”, from “Jandai” contacted me after reading last week’s blog, asking if we were trying to do the whole waterways network in six months, so frantic was the pace we  had set ourselves.

Well the brakes have now been firmly applied (not sure you can do that on a narrowboat though!), and since Bank Holiday Monday we have been ensconced in a marina in Newbury, where we will now stay for the next two weeks. So in the last week we have travelled just 2 miles, and are now very comfortable thank you. One of the plus points being that we can now use our washing machine on a shoreline, without it keep stopping or cycling.

Our mooring over the Bank Holiday by the swingbridge in Newbury

This stopover is to enable us to be within striking distance of our daughter and her family, James and Livi, who arrived from New Zealand on Tuesday afternoon. Erica is having a belated 30^th  birthday party this Saturday and the following weekend we have her daughter “Livi’s” christening in Little Marlow. They are based in Marlow area, so this seemed a convenient location, though on doing the journey a couple of times now, our home in Welwyn Garden City was nearer Marlow, than here.  So we have gone from a life where we rarely know what the day of the week is, to planning buses, trains and  table reservations. We have had to reinvent a diary again such is the whirl of activity we find ourselves in.

The Harvison Gang with Pat and Livi at the arrivals gate at Terminal One

The other reason for being in a marina is so we I can give the Cat’s Whiskers some TLC. She’s had a good clean and polish, both inside and out, and between us we gave the gunwhales and rubbing strakes two fresh coats of black paint on both sides.

Roger admires his handiwork (Amazing what you can do with a jar of Nescafe)

Last Friday we ventured back home for the first time to see our tenants, book doctors and dentist appointments and pick up our car. It was a bit strange driving again, after 6 months, and only the second time we had been in a car, during that time.

Last weekend was, of course, another Bank Holiday weekend, so it was not surprising that it rained a fair bit on the Monday, though the rest of the weekend was quite warm and sunny, with the occasional shower. My pal Sid from and his wife Mave, visited us on the Monday and we took them from our mooring on the outskirts of Newbury through the town and on to our marina where we had lunch. I worked with Sid at John Lewis, and he had always shown a lot of interest in the project, so it was good to invite him and Mave aboard. They were on their way to a steam fair in Dorset.

The Wiltshire Wolds

I don’t particularly care for the unexpected, so I was delighted that our return up the 29 locks on the Caen Hill Flight at Devizes, last weekend, was every bit as pleasant as our passage down the Saturday before. Our plan, to be at base of the flight on Friday night, ready for the off, first thing on Saturday morning, proved a sensible move and  our premier locking crew of David and Caroline returned to The Cat’s Whiskers late Friday evening to make our ascent as painless as possible.

Dave and Caroline brought with them a third team member and we were delighted to pipe on board “Toby the Terrrier”, for whom this boating lark was a whole new experience. As it happens, Toby’s conduct was exemplorary, and the little fellow really seemed to enjoy the experience, though he was flat out on our floor when we finally moored in Devices Wharf later that afternoon.

Toby the Terrier on roof patrol

We shared our ascent with Bernie and Jenny on NB Varakei. They were two-handed, but promised even more help with the guests they were expecting for the weekend, though at 78 and 83, we didn’t expect their guests to be “hands on”.  They certainly did their bit though.

David & Caroline. Our premier locking crew

Devizes still retains the atmosphere of an old country market town, and the major moorings for the town, at the Wharf, means you are only minutes from the town centre. As luck would have it, we collided with the start of the Devizes Carnival celebrations. The opener being a grand concert in the local town park. So, yet again, chairs under our arms, we sought out some Sunday afternoon entertainment, and had a very enjoyable few hours, listening to a wide variety of music, in the warm sunshine.

We woke up Monday morning to a smell I knew very well. Wadworths were brewing and the smell of the malt permeated the whole area. Luverly! Since then we have slowly journeyed east  through the Vale of Pewsey and have just crossed back into Berkshire, where we are moored at Hungerford for the night. There have been lots of locks and we have befriended a number of boaters on our journey. We even saw another "Cat's Whiskers", without the apostrophe. I have heard of one other.

The Cat's Whiskers at rest in the Vale of Pewsey. If you squint you can see The White Horse on the hills

Snap!... but where is the apostrophe

Pat and I are unusual in that neither of us care much for fishing.  On most boats there is at least one fisherman, and no sooner have their boats moored up for the night, than the rod comes out (oooh missus!) and fishing commences. But though I am not a big angling fan, what I saw this morning has changed my mind a bit.  Whenever the crew of Narrowboat Bumble have pork chops they save the bones and then attach them to a line and dangle them over the boat all night. The result, as I saw for myself this morning, is a big catch of crayfish who attach themselves to the bones. They then fry the little critters, or boil them, or make soup, and they look to be good scoff. These are Signal crayfish, so the crew of Bumble are also performing a public service as this invasionary species should not exist is this environment, though they are rife in the Thames. And in the Kennet and Avon, it seems.

This Friday, we catch a train from these here parts and head for St Albans, to pick up our trusty old Citroen Picasso. It will be the first time I have driven a car since Easter and only the second time I have been in a car during the time we have been on the water. Must remember to drive on the left!

On our return with the car, we will be moored in a marina in Newbury for two weeks, so if any of you fancy a land-based visit, with a mini-cruise as an optional extra, then get in touch.

Way Out West

While Pat thinks the Kennet & Avon is a bit dull, compared to some of the other waterways we have travelled on this summer, I am slowly warming to its charms, albeit if only for the crazy sights we keep seeing as we have headed  west.

One craft, moored up just outside Devizes, had built a greenhouse on the front and had planted a lawn on the roof. It was quite green and verdant. Must make a great putting green, but God knows how they get the mower up there.

Who says you can't take your garden with you!

Then there was the “Skip”. Yes, folks, this was a regular skip, that an enterprising boater had used to make into a little boat, which he had fitted with an outboard motor. He was very proud of it, painted in its primary “Lego” colours, and he was taking it through a lock, so it must have been pretty stable.

Pat admires the floating skip

As as we entered Devizes I saw the slogan on a board at the end of a garden. “What if the Okie Cokie is not really what it’s all about!” How profound and wacky is that.

As for our navigation over the week, Newbury slowly gave way to the delights of the rolling hills of the Vale of Pewsey. We have been lead to believe the photo (below) that we took last Thursday, was of the famous “Watership Down”, which many years ago we walked over with our chums, the Scotts, (Dory & Chris), who visited us on Monday. As a big fan of the book, but not so much the film, I am happy to think it is true – it certainly fits the bill, and seems to be in the right part of the country.

Watership Down.... we think

Last weekend we duly fried again as the nation had its third slice of summer. We were in Devizes, in Wiltshire, where we descended the famous Caen Hill flight of locks. Here we said goodbye to Barry and Helen, who had been our travelling companions for the last 30 miles or so from Kintbury. They had moored in a marina a couple of miles outside Devizes, but walked down the flight on Saturday morning to say goodbye. We shared the rest of the journey with Peter and Helene, from Guildford, who were hiring narrowboat “Bath”, and needed to go down the flight on Saturday.

The previous evening all three of us had both moored at The Barge Inn, Honeystreet, right outside the pub. The hostelry is run by the local community and was featured on BBC last summer, “Village SOS”, with Sarah Beeny. The series looked at attempts by villages up and down the country to restore the fabric of their community via lottery grants. The pub was resurrected and is clearly successful. My verdict: they could look after the beer a bit better. One ale was just on the turn, and when I mentioned it, the reply was, of course, “well nobody else has complained”. Their other beer, called Roswell (not sure who brews it) was much better. As was the grub, which was quite acceptable.

We found Devizes to be a very attractive town which is dominated by the Caen Hill flight of locks and Wadworths Brewery. We also welcomed back to TCW some old friends of the boat, Dave and Caroline, from Gloucester, our “Locking Posse”, who finally got to have some time with us in the sunshine.

There are 15 locks on the Caen Hill flight; another seven at the bottom and  five at the top. It was a piece of cake with four helpers opening and closing paddles and setting up the locks. We passed only one other boat on the flight, which was quite surprising, especially being Saturday. The Caen Hill flight attracts huge number of “gongoozlers” (look it up in the dictionary) and they snapped away with their digital cameras as we dropped through each lock. They all wanted to ask the same old question and poor old Pete in his hire boat, beside me, could have been invisible.

"Gongoozlers" check out our progress on the Caen Hill Flight

We parted ways on Sunday evening, after an excellent roast in a local pub and three hours in front of the telly watching the closing ceremony of London 2012.

Roger sporting the latest in "must have" narrowboat wear - the exclusive "Cat's Whiskers" polo shirt

Gold Post Box in Bradford On Avon

We are currently in and around Bradford-On-Avon. Here we saw our first gold post box. This one commemorates Ed McKeever, the sprint canoeist who won gold last week. We were intending to cruise into Bath, before turning round and returning to Newbury, but a lock gate at one of the city’s locks is badly damaged, and is being repaired, but the navigation will not open again until this weekend. So we went into Bath yesterday by bus and had a great day. I hadn’t been there for several years, and we took advantage of the free walking tour and really enjoyed the experience. The sun shone as well. It’s a different story today and we went a few more miles, before winding at the Dundas aquaduct, in the driving rain. So now we are pointed east and ready to go back up the Caen Hill flight this weekend.