Saturday 27th May
I woke up surprisingly early today, and — what's more surprising — no ill effects after a couple of glasses of wine at the house yesterday evening, followed by a couple of pints at the pub before supper. Plenty of time to say Office of Readings and Morning Prayer before the household was stirring. I'm now sitting on the bed typing this into the laptop.
I brought the computer with me, though it's only an even chance that there is 'mains' available on the boat. It's so much bother to write a diary manually and then have to type it up later, I'd really kick myself if I didn't bring the machine and it turned out that there was mains after all. What's more, now that I'm keeping a diary regularly — which I wasn't when I was last on the canals — typing the canal diary later would have to be fitted in at the same time as doing the current post-holiday entries, which would be a real bind. I've brought an exercise book as well — partly in case there is no mains and partly to jot things down at times when it isn't worth getting the computer out.
I do want to keep the diary going, anyway. The main point of starting it was to have a means of reflecting on things as they are happening — and I think it has served this purpose even though it might read sometimes as a mere catalogue of events. This holiday being a significant change in routine, stepping aside from the concerns of parish work, I want to have somewhere to jot down any reflections as they occur, as well as recording the details of the journey itself.
It will be interesting to see if I can put parish concerns on one side for the week. Do I actually want to, anyway? Is this perhaps a chance to reflect on some of the things that have come up during the time I've been at Peckham? In a way, perhaps it's rather like what happens on a day off, particularly when I'm walking on my own. Most of the time I'm not thinking about parish matters, but it seems that at some unconscious level things fall into place when I'm not thinking about them explicitly. Therefore I won't worry about anything to do with work, but if things do come to mind I'll note them down for later reference.
I'm writing this last bit in the evening, reverting to my normal habit. I'm glad to say there is a mains-type supply, so there shouldn't be any difficulty using the laptop. The generator makes rather a lot of noise, so we won't be leaving it on during the night, but having it on during the day will allow the computer's batteries to be recharged, which is the main thing.
We had arranged with Nick and Penny to meet at a pub, the Coach and Horses at Weatheroak, only a few miles from the boatyard. On the way we stopped to pick up some cheese — actually quite a lot of cheese! — from a market stall run by a man called Arthur, who used to have a cheese shop in Wantage, and who has an excellent selection of cheeses and other deli-type items. No problem with the rendezvous, we arrived within minutes of each other. On the way there, the weather was alternating heavy rain with bright sunshine — and it's been that way throughout the day. It's inconvenient, but makes for some rather beautiful landscapes, which we enjoyed in the car and later on in the boat. Lunch was variations on a theme: we all chose baguette with different fillings — plus a few side-orders of chips. Then on to the boatyard.
We arrived there half an hour early, wanting to take advantage of any possibility that the boat might be ready in advance of the advertised time. In the event it was the reverse, and we didn't leave till about four o'clock — and by the time we'd turned the boat round and were facing the right way it was about a quarter past. The heavy shower of hail stones probably didn't exactly speed up the process of getting the boats ready to be handed over — and we were only one group of several that were hanging around the shop-cum-office for some considerable time.
Preparing the Boats in a
Hailstorm
The shop itself, by the way, was rather good. It had an extensive collection of canal guides — just about the whole range of Pearson's and a good range of equipment such as waterproof clothes, mooring spikes, windlass handles and so on. They also had some rather nice kits for making a balsa-wood model of one of their boats. I think I'll buy one on the way back.
I took the first turn at steering — on the grounds that as a priest I'm used to making a fool of myself in public. Because of the angle at which we were moored, and because of the boats around us, we had to pull out of the moorings facing in the direction opposite to the one in which we wanted to go. Fortunately there was a point where one can turn a boat — a 'winding point' — just fifty yards or so along from the moorings. I took it quite gently and it seemed to work out quite well. At least, one of the regulars on the bank said he was quite impressed.
We'd heard at the boatyard that the Severn was rather high because of the rain, and there was a possibility it would be temporarily closed. The route we have planned is a loop going along the course of the Severn at one point, and then going up to Birmingham. We chose to do it in this direction because there are many options around Birmingham, so we can easily adjust the route towards the end of the week if we find we are making better or worse progress than expected. The way round that we're taking it, through the long Tardebigge Flight first and then onto the Severn, takes us onto the river earlier than if we'd done the loop in the opposite direction. This will also give us the best chance with the Severn, since the rain (which has only recently started) takes a while to raise the river level, so the earlier we get onto the Severn the less the chance of it being too high for safety.
We chugged along steadily along rather a bendy stretch of canal, which was also rather overgrown with trees hanging over the water — so it was rather difficult to see where to go, and we had to move rather slowly. Then a couple of short-ish tunnels — about 500 yards each. I always find it rather difficult steering through tunnels. Rather like night driving on roads, there are very much fewer visual clues available to you, so it is hard to avoid nudging into the walls as you go along. Fortunately the tunnels were remarkably straight, and this made it a lot easier.
Then it was onto the Tardebigge Flight — thirty locks straight one after the other. We started this about a quarter past five, and finished just a little over three hours later. This is quite good going, as almost ten locks in an hour is considerably faster than is normally allowed for in route planning. There were quite a few other boats around on the locks. One in just in front of us slowed things down a bit, but still I think we did quite well. We stopped at the bottom of the Tardebigge Flight proper, though there are a good many shorter flights of locks before we arrive at the junction with the Severn and we find out whether we can go ahead.
Tardebigge Flight
The weather improved gradually as we went along. We all got fairly wet to begin with, but by the time we tied up it was fairly dry. Penny cooked a very good supper. She'd already prepared a chilli, and she added a starter of nachos, dips, and so forth. After supper we went for a short visit to the canal-side pub near which we'd moored (surprise, surprise!). As we returned it just started to rain again, and as I type this I can hear the patter of steady rain falling on the narrowboat's roof.
I've had a look through the Catholic Directory two or three times, but it's not clear at the moment what the best choice for Mass is. I was going to go into Bromsgrove for an early one, but with a considerable stretch of locks still before us, I've begun to think it would be better to stay with the boat until we get nearer to Worcester, which we should reach in early afternoon. This also has the advantage that there is a good choice of Mass times there. I could go ahead some time in the morning and wait afterwards for the boat to arrive in Worcester. Or I could get off when we get to Worcester, go to Mass, and then rejoin the boat at Stourport, which we hope to reach by the evening. My absence, when — or if! — we get onto the Severn, will have less effect, since the Severn locks are automated and we won't need all hands to work the locks.