First lit stove seen for a few weeks

Well, we can't stay here for ever, going to the Proms every night, so we moved on. First job was to wind as we were now facing the wrong direction after giving our guests a short there-and-back ride yesterday. I should have tried just where we were, immediately east of Bridge 3 as the canal looked just about wide enough for our 55' boat - and we would have had nothing to lose - but we back-tracked for a mile to wind just past the Sainsbury's at Kensal Town. The winding hole isn't signed, but at the spot indicated on Waterway Routes there was the vestige of an entrance to an old basin so I stuck the bow in there and powered round. There was plenty of room behind me.

While I was winding Jan popped in to the supermarket. Just before this point we passed Captain Smollett, whose crew must have been feeling a little chilly. We were plenty warm enough, thank you. Incidentally, the bright green duckweed hasn't come out at all well in my photos. I think the camera must be (counterintuitively) fooled into overexposing. I'll have to experiment with the controls …)

We were soon back to our mooring of the previous two nights and then Little Venice and on to the Regent's Canal through London Zoo. At the locks at Camden we went down the first three locks on our own, but then we paired up with another boat for the rest of the way to Limehouse Basin.

The building at 1 Canada Square [centre] is still the most instantly recognisable of the growing cluster of skyscrapers at Canary Wharf.

As we arrived at Limehouse Basin two other boats emerged from Limehouse Cut to take what appeared to be the last visitor moorings. There was, however, just enough room for our locking partner to squeeze in in front of Spey; we tied up alongside. Perfect.

And this is our view in the basin.

Walking past the tidal lock to the Thames I couldn't resist another Canary Wharf photo, especially as the sun was behind me.

Tomorrow we start up the Lee Navigation.

Minor collision on the Cherwell - no-one hurt ... and an Oxford trashing

We had a whole day "off" in Oxford today. One of the things we did was to walk round Christ Church Meadow in the sunshine. On the east side of the meadow the River Cherwell joins the Thames in a meandering way. The river splits into several channels and is popular with punts and other human-powered craft.

Some punts were expertly guided along the channels. Other vessels had less experienced crew and zigzagged along crashing gently into the banks each side. When a pedalo appeared on the scene - a pedalo which spent most of the time spinning round and going nowhere - an oncoming punt had nowhere to go.

The brakes are even less effective than those on a narrowboat. Judging from the amount of laughter everyone involved was having a great time.

The longhorn cattle in the meadow were not interested.

The students we met at Thrupp didn't tell us about something we witnessed later. In Merton Street behind the university's examinations centre a group of students gathered behind a barricade. They were armed with shaving foam and flowers, with champagne and powdered paint, and were waiting for their friends who had just finished their exams.

The "victims", still wearing the gowns they took their exams in, seemed to be enjoying being covered in foam, paint and glitter.

The practice is known as "trashing" and is apparently not condoned by the university authorities, but seemingly tolerated.

After watching for a few minutes we walked a short distance along the road to Merton College, and Choral Evensong in the chapel.

Oh yes, earlier in the day we had walked along the Thames and saw two familiar boats pass downstream. The Jules Fuels pair are usually found in the Stoke Bruerne Weedon area on the GU. Perhaps they are on holiday.

Tomorrow I'm going by Megabus and bike to pick up the car from near Coventry.

Thinking about where to go this year

For the last few years we have included the Crick Boat Show as part of our itinerary, but this year we shall be further south. The Boaters' Christian Fellowship has an event in Newbury in June, so we plan to do the Kennet and Avon. The only part of this navigation we have done so far is between Devizes and Bath, and that was on Shadow when it was based in Devizes one year. This time we'll be able to cover the whole length of the K&A from Reading to Bristol. We won't venture beyond Bristol as I don't want a mutiny.

Other canals I'd like to travel include a couple of arms of the Grand Union, the Aylesbury and the Slough Arms, neither of which we have explored before. As we'll be on the Thames anyway to access the K&A it would be good to do the Wey and the Basingstoke as well.

Today's photo is of the Thames in London nearing sunset.

(photo taken on 26th December 2016)

Scrap metal on the Thames

Seen on a Boxing Day walk three weeks ago (it seems a lot longer ago than that): this boat by a huge pile of scrap metal. It's on the north (Essex) bank near the Barking Creek flood barrier.

The boat appears to be called Pex and looks to be sitting high in the water. There is some scrap just visible in the hold, no doubt it can take a few tonnes more before heading for China, presumably. The company name on the sign is "MSK Waste Management & Recycling Ltd".

Breaking ...

... the silence!

It's been far too long since my last post. I got out of the habit after returning home; not even Sarah's recent return to Blogland spurred me on.

Until now.

Is it too late to wish everyone a Happy Christmas? As Christmas has only just started, strictly speaking, I wish you all a Happy Christmas anyway. (If I had my way I would switch on our (very sober) Christmas lights on Christmas Eve, not before, and leave them up until Twelfth Night (by which time most people would have removed theirs).)

I'll ease myself back in gently - with a photo from a walk Jan and I took this afternoon.

That's the sun struggling to break through a blanket of mist over the Norfolk countryside.

OK, here's another photo. This is from a Boxing Day walk along the south bank of the Thames east of Woolwich.

According to my brother, David, this ancient slipway was used to launch Henry VIII's warships. I couldn't find anything on the internet to back this up; can anyone confirm this?

Crane collapses in high winds

It's a bit late ... but Happy Easter to you! We went to London to stay with David and Penny for a few days; eleven of us enjoyed a lovely lamb lunch on Easter Sunday. The next day Jan, David and I walked round Greenwich and came across a street sealed off with police tape. A crane had collapsed in the early hours of the morning as a result of the high winds.

There were a couple of good vantage points to see what was going on. At one point workers were doing something on the platform.

It narrowly missed crashing into a pub.

Just yards away was more evidence of the strength of the wind, although the core of this tree was rotten.

Another few yards took us to the foreshore of the Thames, where David and I did a little light scavenging.

There was the usual collection of clay pipe fragments, with a large amount of animal bone pieces.

We had thought about going on to the boat, but a neighbour e-mailed to say that one of our fence panels had blown down so we decided to go home instead. We'll be boating soon!

That flaming Christmas pud, and how special do you have to be to work a lock?

Our Christmas hosts made sure that things were done properly as far as lunch was concerned. The burning issue was the Christmas pudding, made by our friend Willie, and set alight by brother David.

On Boxing Day we visited brother Peter in west London. He'd devised a treasure hunt for us, and we enjoyed walking round the area spotting the answers - where they still existed - to his clues. The route took us along part of the Thames: this is Barnes Bridge lit by the afternoon sun. The river was flowing swiftly here. I would not have fancied it in a narrowboat.

On Friday 27th December we drove up to Milton Keynes and reacquainted ourselves with Jubilee. It was good to be back on board - and good to get the fire going! The next day we set off for a mini-cruise to Stoke Bruerne. This is more than half-way up the flight of locks, Lock 16, I think, just below the long pound.

At the top we were slightly taken aback by the number of gongoozlers. They seemed to come out of nowhere. Jan was asked how long it would take to fill the lock; and if "ordinary" people were allowed to work the locks, or if you had to be "special". Well, of course, we know the answer to the second question, don't we? We're all special!

Entering the Royal Docks

After the excitement of the Woolwich Ferries came the entrance to the King George lock.

I think this must be the largest lock I have navigated. I estimate that you could fit 60 wide Grand Union locks in here. Those are the (Thames-side) gates closing behind us in the photo below.

Just five minutes later (according to my camera's timing) the dock-side gates were opened. That's as fast as any Grand Union lock!

After a twenty minute delay while clearance was awaited from air traffic control - London City Airport is built in the middle of the dock - the bascule bridge started to open.

We had a ten minute window in which to clear the aircraft approach area. As soon as the bridge had opened sufficiently the tall-masted plastic boats powered out of the lock ...

... leaving the narrowboats standing.

But we got the "hurry up" and charged out ourselves.

The three boats in the photo below look as though they're on a wide choppy river: they're actually still in the lock!

Immediately on exiting the lock we turned right. Right under the final approach path for aircraft. Doris Katia is powering past the lights at the end of the runway.

Above Lotus No. 10 and Doris Katia are aeroplanes on the hard standing. This is Royal Albert Dock, whose water seemed lumpier than the river we'd just left.

Dividing Royal Albert Dock from Royal Victoria Dock is the Connaught Bridge, actually a road bridge and separate foot bridge. Andrew Phasey had confidently advised the authorities on the VHF radio that narrowboats didn't need the footbridge raising. The plastic yachts had blasted on ahead and the bridge (or bridges? Presumably the road bridge is also a moveable structure) had already been lowered. There was plenty of room.

One constant feature throughout the latter stages of this docks cruise was photographer and Canal Boat magazine deputy editor Martin Ludgate. We first spotted him on the Thames-side lock gates, and now here he was on the impressive suspension bridge spanning the Royal Victoria Dock. (He's that speck in the middle!) For his high-angle photo our narrowboat convoy formed up seven-abreast.

And then it was suddenly the end of the cruise, and somehow I was still steering. I hope Richard, Paul, Andy and Sarah will forgive me for hogging the tiller. A neat U-turn, and we tied up right where Jan and I had enjoyed the view in the sun six months ago. That was just before we watched some Olympic table tennis at ExCeL on the dockside.

For my final photograph I set up the camera on its self-timer. Here I am (flat cap and blue scarf) looking very happy!

And it wasn't entirely down to Andrew's generous doling out of sloe gin and whisky, the traditional ending, as I learned, to this particular SPCC Royal Docks cruise. But it may have helped. No, actually, I would have been grinning anyway after such a splendid bit of boating.

For more photos, including excellent ones of the Woolwich Ferries I missed getting, see Richard's on his Indigo Dream blog.

Dodging the Woolwich Ferries

In my last post detailing my recent cruise on Indigo Dream we were just entering the Thames from the Lea. We soon passed under the Emirates Airline cable cars.

The Thames was almost millpond-calm with almost no wind. We were punching the tide, but you'd hardly have realised. We were making 5 mph until we caught up with slower boats in front. The only pity weather-wise was that it was all rather murky - but I'm not complaining!

In the photo below you can see three of the narrowboats in our convoy of seven.

Half-an-hour later came the Thames Flood Barrier: we were to pass through Span B. Because I'd done this in 2010 it wasn't quite the amazing thrill it had been the first time, nevertheless, Richard had handed the helm over to me by now, and it was great steering through the gap.

And then ... the Woolwich Ferries. We'd seen one crossing some way in front of us, and as we came through the Barrier the way seemed clear. But then the Essex side ferry started its journey across. Would we get through in time? It looked easy. But our speed against the tide suddenly seemed insignificant compared with the rate at which the monster ferry was approaching. Perhaps we'd have to give in and swing left to go behind it. But we'd left it a bit late for that. The ferry really was very big. Richard, inexplicably, was inside and seemed oblivious to the danger. Oh well, nothing for it but to charge full steam ahead. We waved to the ferry's crew - they waved back cheerfully. In moments we were through, the ferry, towering above us, devouring the water we'd only just left. Phew!

It probably wasn't quite as dramatic as I've tried to make it sound, and I'm sure the ferry captains are used to small boats mucking about in front of them. But it was a relief to have that bit of the journey behind us.

And where are the photographs, you ask? Photos? You must be joking! I was steering! If you want photos you'll have to wait for them to come out in Canal Boat magazine. Deputy editor Martin Ludgate was following the convoy's progress from the bank, and had hopped on one of the ferries to take some photos from its unique vantage point. There'll be more about Martin later.

Now I must read what Richard has written about this trip in Indigo Dream's blog ...

Crossing the Thames at the speed of light

Last night I returned from an excellent couple of days in the Smoke. Not that there's much actual smoke in London these days - what there is seems to come mainly from the chimneys of narrowboats!

I alighted from the train with my new folding bike at Stratford and found a machine where I could top up my Oyster card. It's a good job I did as there was only £1.80 left on it. Then I took a Jubilee Line train to North Greenwich, where David met me on his bike. We cycled to his house the scenic route along the Thames Path. The green laser beam shone out from the Royal Observatory at Greenwich along the meridian.

There was just the right amount of moisture in the air for the beam to show up clearly: too much mist and the beam would quickly get scattered; too pure an atmosphere and the beam would be invisible.

We criss-crossed the meridian several times that evening - here we are within a few feet of it.

I wondered about the wisdom of having the beam pointing up into the sky - what if it blinded aeroplane pilots?

But when you climb up to the observatory itself you see that the laser actually points approximately horizontally to the other side of town. It shoots out of the side of the building ...

... and whizzes past Greenwich Power Station (a stand-by generator for the Underground) and the O2 Arena (formerly known as the Millennium Dome) before crossing the Thames to Blackwall and the River Lea.

And all at 300 million metres per second.

Photographs of the London nightscape are irresistible, aren't they? Click on the photos to see larger versions, and spot the laser beam.

I'm standing under it again here: the beam is coming over my head from top to bottom in this photo, taken from the vantage point of Greenwich Park.

In a later post I'll talk about my adventures with Indigo Dream. Those Woolwich Ferries are big!

Taking the cable car over the Thames

Part of our Olympic experience on the first Saturday of the Games (it seems like a long time ago) was to cross the Thames by cable car.

This runs from Royal Victoria Dock south to the Dome - sorry, the Oh Two (or the North Greenwich Arena) and is sponsored by the Emirates airline company and is called the Emirates Air Line.


The views were excellent: here are the Dome, Canary Wharf, the river and the DLR.


Tickets - or "boarding passes" as they call them - cost us £3.20 each for a single journey as we had Travelcards for the Olympics. Normal single fares without Oyster card or Travelcard are £4.30.


It was good fun, and we had a car to ourselves, but I didn't feel it necessary to do it again for the return leg (we used the Underground).