Brass Monkeys

The first cruise of the season started on a frosty morning, with the boat still recovering from her lonely winter. It took the stove 36 hours to warm everything up properly and remove the last of the condensation.

And while the weather looked good, the breeze made navigating a bit tricky, to say the least. Water levels were high so the flood lock at Castleford was closed, and only a multitude of layers kept us warm.

Saturday night hosted a sleepover party for the 9-year-old, and his friend's parents joined us for the slightly chilly cruise home again: good food and wine for lunch at Thwaite Mills (where we saw the horse-drawn fly boat Elland again) and we dawdled so much we arrived home as the light was fading.

Perfect.

The Start of a New Season

We've spent the whole winter talking about this season, and making a point of not talking about the winter. Ice... Damp... Rain... What sort of condition would Honey be in when we returned?

Well, I had a few hours of work to do this morning and I couldn't face it - so I procrastinated, grabbed the boat keys and a warm sweater, and went out.

And there, exactly as we left her, was Honey. Still floating, still dry inside (if a bit dusty) and still with loads of charge in the batteries - the engine fired on the first turn of the starter!

I spent an hour letting the engine warm up and played with various fittings and installations, chatted with other boaters at the moorings, and paid our subs for another year with the White Rose Boat Club (a waterfront festival and a wedding planned for this year!)

A good rummage around the boat showed that there is no visible evidence of frost damage inside - so this weekend a short cruise to the nearest water point and a full system 'wet test' is planned with only a little bit of worry rather than heart-stopping panic.

It looks like we're getting some nice cheap ballast to sort out the gentle list to port, and if the money stretches then the planned repaint and renaming ceremony will go ahead this year.

And finally, the moorings are making good progress in installing the sanitation point. Things just get better and better!

Come on, 2012, after a start like is I have high hopes for the year!

Are the words "I have a cunning plan" marching with ill-deserved confidence in the direction of this blog?

"The rivers of Yorkshire to Stratford-upon-Avon in 12 days? 204 miles and 106 locks in less than a fortnight? Who do you think you are, man? Jeremy Clarkson?"

But we have bought tickets for Twelfth Night at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, and there are very limited performances of that play during the summer season. No other play will do, as it is a GCSE set text for our daughter.

The box office staff were highly entertained when I told them that we would be arriving by boat. Sadly they were unable to provide moorings outside the theatre, even for disabled ticket holders, so we will have to endure the inconvenience of crossing the bridge to find our seats.

Unless by some miracle we can find an empty mooring in Bancroft Basin. In August.

Nah.

We have boated to Stratford for the theatre before. Two years ago we hired one of the excellent fleet at Bidford Boats and took the children to see Romeo & Juliet. That week on the Avon was when I properly fell in love with narrowboats and Mic & I decided that one day we would own one.

While we have to rush to get to the theatre on time, the rest of the summer will be spent dawdling down to Tewkesbury and then back home by the Western canals - spending as much time as possible meeting old friends and exploring new places.

Now that would be proper narrowboating.

Saltaire (the forgotten blog entry...)

We made it to Saltaire in late October. It's taken until now for me to write up the journey...

I've loved the village for years, not least because I'm a huge fan of David Hockney (his gallery is in Salt's Mill) and an admirer of Industrial Revolution era philanthropists. The 21st Century had a lot to learn...

We never made it up the Bingley Five Rise because we didn't rush there and only had the one day to ascend and then descend; we 'boated properly' as the crew of Georgian Star said when we admitted to dawdling.

The truth is that with the cold weather, dark nights and the long working hours, we really miss the boat and we're planning the Spring trip already.

Tidal Trent... Mmmmm

Winterising

There is something so wrong about packing a boat up for the winter.

Every instinct tells me that it would be more appropriate to move aboard with a large stockpile of food and fuel and protect the boat from the frost by popping another log on the stove and putting the kettle on. That's what you should do with a narrowboat.

But we can't do that.

So the boat has been winterised.

Once again, the wonderful Paul & Chrissie have provided invaluable support. The radiator that is fed from the boiler behind the stove to keep the bedroom snug doesn't need attention: that is filled with inhibitor and antifreeze. One less thing to worry about, but I still need to climb the learning curve after finding the header tank and wondering whether it needs topping up, and if so, how and when...?

I'm not going to worry about that now.

I arrived this morning with a long To-Do list, and started by lighting the stove and putting the kettle on. No point in being cold, is there?

Draining the water tank took 50 minutes with the kitchen and bathroom taps and the shower on. While that was happening I had a look at a spot of rust that was letting water get past a mushroom vent. There wasn't much I could do about it with the tools I have, so it's been treated with Vactan and when I return in a few days the spot will be protected from the rain by some duct tape. A cowboy repair, I know, but how many people carry the kit needed to repair mushroom vent corrosion in their toolbox?

Once the water tank was empty, I enjoyed the envy of several other boat owners. Apparently the installation of a pump specifically for draining the calorifier once a year is a luxury I don't deserve as a new boater. Paul, you have no idea how much I owe you, and when I see you next the drinks are on me.

Old sheets are covering the good furniture; the cupboards and fridge are propped open; the mattress is on its side; and all the other soft furnishings are stowed in the house.

And we will spend the winter planning our spring holiday.

The Leeds-Liverpool Canal Apprenticeship Scheme

If you head North through Leeds, as we are this half term, you serve an apprenticeship on the locks.

You begin with Leeds Lock Number 1, a key operated electric lock in modern urban surroundings. It's easy to operate, and once past the Royal Armouries Leeds Waterfront is lined with imaginative recreational architecture.

The next locks are standard fare for Northern waterways: leaky; complicated; inconsistent with each other; and never left in the proper condition. BW staff are helpful, local waterway professionals take on the role of 'critical friend' but are definitely worth listening to.

But whatever else you do, don't believe the advertising hype surrounding Granary Wharf. The reception from staff is unwelcoming and surly, the noise from the railway and nightlife unpleasant, and the facilities overpriced.

Then the lock apprentice faces their first test: Oddy Locks, a leaky two-rise with low water in the pound above. The trick is to transit both challenges, but without draining the waterway for the poor sods behind you. Pass this test and you are rewarded with the long Aire Valley Pound.

Then, the apprentice faces a pair of three rises. These are more of a challenge, requiring a more advanced understanding of lock operation. By transiting two in quick succession, the apprentice learns and demonstrates competence. If you can pass this test, you are ready for the Bingley Five Rise.

We're having a break first...

An evening with good friends with a walk in Calverley Wood. This is why we bought a boat.

Half Term Holiday

We're pretending that the winter isn't going to happen, and the weather seems to be conspiring with us. We set off yesterday in glorious sunshine for an afternoon cruise to Leeds.

It was cold, though. 21st Century families don't wear thermal underwear, but we all had our Berghaus base layers on and drank hot tea while we wore sunglasses.

In Leeds, Michaela met us (she finished work a day later than the rest of us) and as we tied up at the visitor moorings at Clarence Dock we were delighted to be greeted by some of the long-term berth holders with such cheerful delight that we felt like old friends returning home.

Now we no longer have to fight traffic and hunt for parking spaces, we are beginning to appreciate Leeds. I spent far more money than I should have in the 190 year old indoor market, bringing huge bags of cakes home to the boat.

But first we stopped at Granary Wharf because we had read that The Book Barge was there. Take the time to read the 'About' page on that website and you will see why it is about so much more than just books, what it is that Mic & I believe is so important, and why we fell completely for this ridiculous idea.

We're staying here for another day; our disabled son needs collecting from respite before we depart on our 'proper' autumn holiday. But over the next week we're going to Saltaire and beyond.