Friday 13th Sept
Up early this morning — well, seven o'clock: early by my normal standards. Weather cloudy but bright. I've just said the morning Office [daily prayers said by priests and others]. I was amused to note the opening of the first psalm: 'O Lord, the waters have risen up to my throat ...'. What with our holiday starting on Friday 13th, it's just as well that we're not superstitious!
As it happens, that psalm tends to stick in my mind anyway. When the students in my year at seminary were planning the details of our diaconate ordination, it fell to me to consult the others about the choice of readings. Although we normally use special readings for the occasion, I did notice that if we'd had the ordinary weekday readings, it would have been that same psalm, which continues, 'I am stuck in the miry pit and there is no escape...'. Despite that rather inauspicious coincidence, I haven't ever regretted choosing to be a deacon (and later a priest) — so I'm not too worried when it comes up again in relation to our canal trip.
I also noticed a line at the end of the first section of that psalm: 'Those who drink wine chant slogans against me.' Well, we'll be drinking more beer than wine, but if the steersman makes a mistake there may well be a bit of slogan chanting going on!
After a light breakfast Alan and June and I walked into Wantage to get a few final items we wanted to take away with us. We did a slight detour in order to take in the John Betjamin Millennium garden. He lived many years in Wantage, apparently, and now they've made a park with various of his poems inscribed on stones in various, sometimes quite imaginative, arrangements.
It's good that the park is not just a plain grassy area, but is fairly wild with trees and bushes and a fair bit of general undergrowth. That way you come upon the poems unexpectedly and can discover new things even when you've been there before. Alan and June found one poem they had not noticed before, and I was rather taken with one that is only readable when you look at it from the right angle.
Back to the house for some final packing, and then off to the boatyard. This is in Gayton, near Northampton. We stopped off at Didcot to buy some cheese. This was from a man who used to have an excellent cheese shop in Wantage, but for some reason he had to move out and now he has a market stall. Alan and June are in the habit of ringing him on a certain day of the week, and on the following day he drives round to their house and delivers the cheeses they asked for. He has a vast selection in his stall, including several varieties of the more common types. We came away with three cheeses, including a large block of Parmesan. June doesn't seem to be able to buy a small amount of it from him — not that I'm complaining! I did wonder, as we drove on to Gayton, whether I'd neglected to clean my wellingtons, which were in the back of the car with me. I then realised that it was one of the cheeses, a very strong one called Brie de Meaux.
We met Nick and Penny (and Maddie their dog) at the Eastcote Arms in the village of Eastcote. Only a few miles from Gayton, it was a convenient place to meet for lunch. The Adnam's beer was well up to standard, and the food was very good. I had a very good toasted baguette with bacon and cheese.
And so to the boatyard, which we reached in good time. As always, there was some hanging around to do before the boat was ready. That's to be expected. June went off with Alan to pick up a few odd items from the local Tescos, and we were able to start loading the boat shortly after they returned. The Woodlark is a good size. As usual we hired a boat intended for a larger number of people, to give ourselves some extra room, which we feel is worth paying a bit more for. There are two bathrooms, and I was pleased to note that they're somewhat larger than you usually get. Those extra few inches can make a bit difference in a confined space! The kitchen is perhaps a little smaller than average, but this is made up for by the fact that it runs across the boat rather than lengthwise. This means that when people walk along through the boat they don't have to push past you as you're trying to cook. The walkway goes past the end of the kitchen, so to speak, rather than through the middle of it.
I took the steering as we sailed out of the boatyard at 3.30. The boat steers very well, which is something more often noticed in its absence; but this rudder is beautifully balanced and the steering is (for all practical purposes) perfectly true. We turned into the Grand Union and headed northwards, as we're intending to do the Leicester Ring. This will take us through Leicester and Nottingham (the latter a slight detour), then back southwards in a loop that goes through Burton and near to Coventry. John Sephton (who was in the same year at university as Alan and me) and his wife Sally Ann live near Leicester, and we'll probably try and make contact with them at some stage on the journey.
The weather has been beautiful today — bright and sunny, though not uncomfortably hot. Quite a contrast from last time, when it was pelting down with rain as we went to load up the boat. I have a photo of it (link to diary page), and it looked like quite a storm! I think it was actually hail at times, not just rain. There was a gentle breeze, with occasional gusts. One of these caught Alan by surprise when he was reading an O.S. map that he had spread out on the roof of the boat. The wind caught it, Alan snatched at it and missed — and then he stretched out lengthwise on the rear deck and made a grab for it as it floated past. Nick, who was standing nearby, grabbed his legs at this point, to make sure he didn't fall in. So the map was rescued, but I got the impression that the drying-out operation wasn't entirely a success. If a large sheet of paper gets wet, it's difficult to handle it without tearing it, and it did get torn in at least one place. At one stage we passed a boat called Circumbendibus. Must look up the precise meaning when I get back. 'For those lying around' was my best guess.
For the last hour before we moored, we were behind a boat that was going very slowly. At times it was difficult not to get too close to it. Even with the engine on the slowest speed I found we were catching up, and I had to put the engine in 'neutral' for short spells. Someone commented later that it was like driving behind a Volvo. We weren't in a hurry, though, as Alan and Nick had worked out that we needed to stop some way short of the first lot of locks, otherwise we'd be too close to the M1 motorway and would find it difficult to sleep during the night. We moored at 6.15, near the village of Weedon. Having walked into the village in search of food and drink, we were rather unimpressed by all four of the pubs and we ended up at the Globe Hotel. This had a choice of two very ordinary real ales, but the food was quite good. Nick was unlucky with his pizza, though. He said it was cold when it arrived, but was nevertheless burned all along the bottom. We're all feeling quite tired, so we were quite happy to come back to the boat quite early. The others went straight to bed; I hope my typing has not disturbed them. I've been up for some time writing this entry, and as I check my watch I see that it's only just past ten o'clock. Just a few pages of Lord of the Rings and then I'll be off to sleep as well.