Weed cutting on the Little Ouse

Last night another narrowboat had joined us at Brandon; this morning we set off earlier than normal at 0830. The trip back down the Little Ouse didn't seem quite so tedious as Monday's cruise upstream. Perhaps it was down to the current helping us, or was it that I recognised and looked out for features we'd seen going the other way?

I've noticed this phenomenon before: the return trip seems shorter and quicker than the outward journey, whether by boat, bike, foot or car. I bet someone's done a study on it.

One of the features was the sluices connected with the Cut Off Channel.

Here's a thing we didn't see two days ago: a weed collection machine.

It doesn't collect from the surface but - seemingly - from the bottom of the channel. It appears that the weeds are cut low down, and then conveyed up to a pile on the boat.

The Twenty Foot River could do with one of those.

We filled with diesel at Little Ouse Moorings and turned left onto the Great Ouse, immediately stopping on the Ship EA mooring for lunch.

Our destination today was Littleport, just three or four miles upstream. On the way we passed under the power transmission lines again.

We managed to get a place on the EA moorings opposite the Swan on the River pub and walked in to the village. Littleport has gone large on its connection with the Harley-Davidson motorbike: the father of the Harley of the name was born here. For the bike's centenary in 2003 a steel replica was installed.

That's the first - and probably last - time I've sat on a Hog.

Opposite this is St. George's Church. As we looked at the notice board the name of the vicar jumped out at me. The name was the same as a former curate of our church at home. We consulted the website to find that it was indeed the same person, so we rang the bell of the vicarage and had a very enjoyable catch-up with the vicar's wife (Howard had gone to visit a friend a couple of miles from our house). We've arranged to see them tomorrow.

Junk shopper's paradise

Brandon is a small town full of flint buildings, the local building material. I found only two charity shops, but there is a junk shop, Allsorts, crammed from floor to ceiling with anything and everything. There being not enough room inside it spills out onto the pavement.

If you are looking for a zimmer frame or a garden fork or a black-and-white television or a peg bag complete with pegs or a toaster or a rug or a mirror or a weather vane … this might be the place to come to.

One building not obviously of flint is rather striking. I like it.

Back at the boat the water here, just downstream of the weir by Brandon Lock, is very clear and teeming with fish.

Being close to Lakenheath and Mildenhall there is no shortage of military aircraft, most seeming to be fast jets. This monster, though, was going so slowly that I managed to get a photo.

Tomorrow we will wind and return to the Great Ouse.

Little (of interest) Ouse

Straight after breakfast we moved further up the Great Ouse from Ten Mile Bank to Brandon Creek. The EA moorings immediately past the Ship pub were empty, and we stopped there. I cycled back to get the car, we had lunch and talked to the crew of nb Moor and Peace.

Then we set off up the Little Ouse River, past the long Little Ouse Moorings and noting the diesel bay for later in the week (it's closed Sun, Mon and Tue).

We have to say that we found the Little Ouse rather unexciting. Oh for a lock! There is one on this river, at Brandon, but at about 40' it's too short for us.

One moment of light relief was this sign.

Nearing Lakenheath these three white domes appeared on the horizon.

I think they house radar scanners.

Further on we spotted a man observing something through a telescope, so we looked where he was looking and saw this.

Some sort of snipe, but that's where our bird knowledge ends.

We crossed an aqueduct over the Cut Off Channel and passed sluice gates, both features almost identical to those on the Wissey. Again, the Cut Off Channel is rendered invisible by the high sides of the aqueduct.

As we approached Brandon the railway line comes close.

After 14 miles in four hours we were very relieved to see the EA moorings just below the lock.

We tied up and don't want to think about the return journey yet! (I hope the title of this post doesn't offend anyone.)

The end of navigation - and the end of the road for Moley?

Sounds a bit dramatic, doesn't it? But that's what the sign says. (Not the bit about Moley.)

OK, it actually reads "End of Environment Agency Navigation", so it's not forecasting the end of the world as we boat it. We were in Brandon, Suffolk, today (not by boat), walking along the River Little Ouse on another recce for a regional BCF gathering on Saturday week.

Attached to the mooring pontoon was a notice written in the local lingo.

It's in Polish and - according to Google Translate - means "Please take your rubbish home, thank you".

On our walk we came across a man in a hi-vis jacket with a long-handled four-pronged device. He had been creeping gently forward amongst fresh molehills on a playing field before coming to a complete standstill.

He noticed me taking this photo but ignored me and didn't move. I had never before seen a mole catcher in action - if "action" is the right word. After a while nothing happened and we moved on, completing a very pleasant walk.