The best time of year to get a quiet mooring

We stayed this week at Tixall Wide. This is one of the loveliest moorings on the British canal network. Most canals are just wide enough for two boats to pass. Digging more would have been a waste of money. But when the Staffordshire and Worcester Canal was built, a rich landowner, Thomas Clifford, would only let the canal cross his land if it was dug to look like a lake, fitting in with his gardens that had recently been developed by famous gardener Capability Brown.

Narrowboat Thuis moored in Tixall Wide this week

Tixall Wide is really very beautiful and because of that gets very full. During peak season you need to arrive in the morning or you stand little chance of getting a space to moor. Even in the winter it is pretty full because it is a good place to wait out the cold weather, in walking distance of Great Haywood junction where you can get water and a bit of shopping.

But this time of year is the best to get a great mooring. Most of the winter moorers have moved on or are in marinas, and the hire boat season has not yet started. We were extra lucky this year because Tixall Wide had work done on a drainage culvert over winter, and so was not open to anyone. So this week we were moored with just three other boats. It was wonderfully quiet, and properly dark at night, with no light pollution. The moon and stars seemed so bright.

It is the earliest in the year that we have been travelling on the narrowboat since I retired and in all honesty, it is a little too cold and wet when steering the boat. In a few weeks it will be warmer and more civilised. But the big benefit is the peace. And when we are sitting in the boat with the stove keeping us toasty warm, it is a lovely place to be.

How boring am I?

We had a catch up meeting with our financial adviser this week. In preparation we had to fill in risk questionnaires to see if our view of financial risk had changed, and so whether our pension savings were invested appropriately. The result was that I am on the 51st percentile, or to put it another way, boringly average.

I was disappointed with this result. Not because I am disappointed with how risk averse I am. I would not to want to be gambling with my money at a stage when I am retired and no new money is coming in. Nor because I am disappointed with how much I like to take risk. I worked in financial services for most of my career and understand that an element of risk comes with the returns that I think we should be getting from our savings.

But I am disappointed that it is bang in the middle because doesn’t that just make me very boring? I think now that I am retired that is my biggest dread. That I have become a boring old man. As an old work colleague once told me about retirement – my biggest adventure each day would be deciding whether to buy white or brown rolls for my lunch. I don’t think I am quite there yet. For me, my narrowboat life and long vacations are fascinating and I learn new things every day.

But I can see for others that my life must seem really unimportant and boring.

I think I will go and buy a lottery ticket.

First boat trip of the year discovers first problems

We have been staying on our narrowboat this week, in a marina in Staffordshire. On the way down, Mandy asked me not to rush taking the boat out on a trip. In particular she did not want to travel when it is wet and windy. I know she is right. Our trip should be relaxing and fun, not a miserable chore. But I have to admit that I have just been itching to get behind the tiller. So I was delighted on Monday to wake up to a bright sunny day, and we set off south towards Great Haywood.

It was a crisp cold morning and as you can see in the picture, the ice sparkled on our newly painted roof. This was a chance to enjoy ourselves, and it was lovely to be back travelling at 3mph. Our first trip out is also an opportunity to check out everything still works. The good news was that the work done over the winter seems to have been successful. The bad news was that the battery charging warning light would not go off. This is a potentially big problem because we have brand new batteries, and if we let them lose too much charge, they will become useless.

Normally I would try to diagnose the problem using a “Victron” app on my phone, which can monitor the state of charge of the batteries and what power is going in and out. Unfortunately the app was not working either. I did some checks to make sure there was not a critical problem, like the engine belt failing, and we decided we needed to return to base. In a boat you cannot just turn around. You need to keep going until you can find a winding hole with space to turn the boat. In retrospect this was a good thing because we did get to enjoy travelling all day, including four locks to start rebuilding my windlass muscles for the season.

Overnight I managed to reset my electrical devices so that the app worked again, and the following morning our friendly engineer found a wire off on the alternator. He also fixed a long-standing leak we have had on the water tank overflow.

So all in all a good result. We have had a nice day out, checked everything is ready on the boat, and fixed some problems which is always satisfying. We need to pop back to Scotland next week but I really want to be boating. We just need a little more sun!

How to deal with a bad day?

I am naturally positive. My instinct is always to see the best out of everything and to look for opportunities in adversity. Indeed, when I was working I would sometimes be criticised because I would not spend enough time on “what went wrong?” because I was always looking for “what can we do now?”.

But even positive people occasionally have bad days, and Wednesday was one of them for me.

Two things went badly wrong. The first was the dentist. I had an appointment for a crown replacement, but my new dentist took one look and told me I have bigger problems. Apparently I grind my teeth at night and they have worn down to a level where the back teeth are rubbing against each other and putting pressure on the side of the crown which was why it had split off. Fixing could cost thousands of pounds which I don’t have. In the meantime he put in a temporary crown and left me in a lot of pain as the anaesthetic wore off.

Then just as I was feeling down, my phone rang. It was the couple who are buying our house. At least they were. Their buyer had just fallen through so while they still want our house, our planned date of March 22nd is now impossible, which means the house we were buying in Lancashire is also off.

So no house and in pain. Not my best day. Mandy also understandably angry and upset. So what to do?

Normally my response would be to switch on my positive energy and find five great reasons to be happy about the day. It would probably have irritated all those around me but it would have made me feel good. But for once it was not what I wanted to do. I just wanted to wallow in my miserableness. I found a quite corner and read a book.

So now it is two days later and and I am very much back to myself. There are lots of good things that will come out of this. My teeth are fine – for now at least. We get to stay in Scotland longer. I will even get my 60th birthday Scottish bus pass. And if the Lancashire house falls through, there will be another one, Fate is our friend.

I have also decided – sometimes even the most positive of people is allowed a bad day.

What is it like to stay on a boat that does not move?

From March to October we are continuous cruisers on our narrowboat. We travel around the country seeing new places and meeting new people – having new adventures. We are already planning our first trip for this year, probably heading up to Liverpool and then crossing the Pennines to Leeds. I am excited at the thought and this week I made a boat improvement that will help – a map on the fridge.

We had the kitchen upgraded before last season and we have been very happy with it. The one thing we did not like was the white fridge, which did not look quite right. So I had a vinyl “wrap” made of the canal network and have put that on the door. Now, not only does the kitchen look better, but we can easily show visitors where we have travelled and where we are heading.

This is an example of the sorts of “jobs” I tend to do over winter, when the boat is moored in a marina. The experience of staying on a boat when it is not moving is different from our summer adventures. We are not seeing new places every day, and we are not enjoying the loneliness of staying overnight somewhere away from everyone. But there are advantages too.

The marina has plenty of facilities including electricity and water on the pontoon, toilets, showers, pump out, and even its own pub. We also have access to our car so I can easily get to shops or go to see people. I also really love the cold weather. Gongoozelers (non boaters) often ask if the boat is too cold in the winter. The answer is absolutely not. We have central heating from a diesel boiler, and a “bubble stove” that easily heats the small airspace in the narrowboat. Last night for instance was icy cold outside, but Mandy and I were in our T shirts and had to turn the stove off because it was over 24°C in the boat.

It is cold in the mornings because we tend not to have the heating on overnight, but it is cozy warm in our bed, and the boat doesn’t take too long to warm up. I also really love getting up to take the dogs for their first walk, and seeing the early morning sun glinting off the frost and ice on the boats in the marina. It is very beautiful.

Staying on a boat that does not move is a different experience than our summer adventures. But it has its own charms. I am just so happy to be back on the boat.

Ten things I will miss about Scotland

We had some news this week that we have a provisional date for selling our house in Scotland – 22nd March. We have bought and sold enough houses to know that a lot can still go wrong, but in Scotland the process is more certain and so we are optimistic.

Dundee, a couple of Sundays ago,

I say optimistic because this is something we have been hoping for. Mandy wants to be closer to her family and friends in the Northwest of England, so it makes sense. But we are both still sad to be leaving Scotland. It is such a wonderful country. So it is hard to narrow it down to ten things I will miss. But here goes:

1. The hills. Scotland is built around large ranges of mountains, munros and hills, with classic names such as the Trossachs, the Lomonds, the Cairngorms and the Pentlands. They provide a challenge to climb and a background to so many views,

2. The sea. With such lengthy coastline, very often isolated and bleak, I have walked many miles along beaches and cliffs, lost in thought, with just the dogs for company,. Mindfulness at its best.

3. The islands. Some of my most emotional memories have been formed staying on holiday in the islands – Islay, Skye, The Outer Hebrides, Orkney. Each has its own unique character and beauty. I love them all.

4. The cities. Edinburgh is probably my favourite city in the world. Surrounded by hills and coast it is all within walking distance but still has so many restaurants, bars, museums, parks, monuments. But the capital is not the only great city in Scotland. I also love Glasgow, Perth, Edinburgh, Aberdeen and Dundee.

5. The food. This is an odd one to claim because Scotland is more famous for haggis than it is for haute cuisine. However Scotland has some of the best produce in the world – Aberdeen Angus steak, incredible lobster and crab, as well as deep fried mars bars and irn bru.

6. The accents. I deliberately say “accents” rather than “accent” because it is only as you stay here that your ear becomes attuned to the soft highland voices, the warmth of the borders and the rasping Glaswegian.

7. The empty roads. We have spent a deal of time driving between England and Scotland this year and it is such a relief when you cross the border and suddenly the jams disappear. So much space.

8. The independence. Let’s be clear. I am a unionist and would hate to see the break-up of the United Kingdom. But I do admire the independence of spirit of the Scots. It does feel very much a separate nation as well as part of the UK.

9. The whisky. Selfish to choose this one but I do love a whisky and no-one makes a whisky like Scotland. I love the gentle Macallan, the rich Glenmorangie, the salty Talisker and the peaty Lagavulin.

10. The people. It’s corny but true. Scottish people give you time, not always in a rush. Scottish people also have attitude – strong wills, strong opinions, And Scottish people make loyal friends.

Such a great country. We will certainly miss it.

Same boat, same name, so what is the problem?

There is a great deal of tradition around owning a boat. There are obscure terms for parts of the boat that we use every day such as gunwhale, tiller, cratch. There are arguments between boaters about whether we should call the sides of the boat port, starboard, sterm, prow or left, right, back, pointy bit. Often posts on narrowboat social media groups start with “I have been boating for 40 years and…”. One of the most contentious traditions is what you should do when you rename a boat.

This tradition goes back hundreds of years to the days of ocean going ships driven by sail. These were dangerous times and many a superstition was followed to protect the boat from storms, becalming or sinking. One of these was that if you renamed a boat without permission from the sea Gods, you would have many years of bad luck.

There are two ways of avoiding this bad luck. One is to rename the boat while it is out of the water. Many narrowboaters do this at the same time as they are having maintenance such as blacking the bottom of the boat. The alternative is to ask permission from Poseidon (Greek God of Seas and Storms).

And so, when we bought our narrowboat five years ago, we destroyed all traces of the old name (“Boblin” after its owners Bob and Lynne). We then engraved the old name onto a piece of metal and threw it into the waters to discard the name. Finally we walked around the boat pouring Prosecco onto the sides as I chanted a request to Poseidon to grant us our new name “Thuis”.

All this ceremony must have worked because we have had good luck with the boat and five very happy years travelling on it.

This winter we have had the roof and front repainted and as part of that the names were removed from the front panels on the boat. This week I have been back, setting up for the season and putting new name panels on the front of the boat. I decided that no ceremony was necessary because the boat name is not changing, and there are a number of documents on board which show it is called “Thuis”

But just in case…

Oh mighty and great ruler of the seas and oceans, to whom all ships and we who venture upon your vast domain are required to pay homage, I implore you in your graciousness to take unto your records and recollection this worthy vessel hereafter and for all time known as Thuis, guarding her with your mighty arm and trident and ensuring her of safe and rapid passage throughout her journeys within your realm.

That should work!

Itching to get back on the boat

Well that was nice. We had a wonderful Christmas and New Year. But the festivities are over. The decorations are coming down today. I’m on boring but healthy eating and Dry January. The couple of days of snow have turned into grey rain. Time to start looking forward to this year’s adventures, and that starts with the narrowboat.

At the moment many of the canals are closed as the Canal and River Trust do their winter works. We probably won’t be able to set off on our long summer trip until March. But we are missing the boat and it is sitting in Staffordshire waiting for us. The engine is serviced, the cooolant replaced, the central heating leak is fixed. The bottom is blacked with bitumen and has new sacrificial anodes. And the roof has ben stripped down and repainted. So it is ready for visitors in its marina.

Next week I plan to go down and get it set up. During the winter we take off linen, crockery, foodstuffs so they need sorting out. The water tank needs bleaching with Milton. The fuel tank needs topping up. The heating systems need checking. And there are some bits and pieces of DIY to do.

Then for Mandy’s birthday towards the end of January, we plan to spend a week or two on the boat. We may not be moving yet, but it will still feel like coming home. There is something about being on a narrowboat that we just find relaxing.

I can’t wait.

Why is Christmas so tiring?

We have had a wonderful Christmas week. Far too much to eat and drink. Thoughtful gifts. Wonderful company. Competitive games. An unexpectedly busy Midnight Mass. A glamorous hotel. A hideaway cottage. An apartment minutes from the beach. And most of all – family.

Christmas Day is my favourite day of the year. I hardly sleep in the week before because I am so full of excitement. It harks back to my childhood when Christmas was such a magical time. And then when our two boys were little and the anticipation and delight n their eyes. Sometimes the reality of Christmas is a let down, but sometimes like this year it is every bit as good as I had hoped.

So why am I so tired?

I have not worked very hard. Others have taken on the heavy lifting of cooking, planning, entertaining. It has been fun. But the truth is that all of us, including the dogs, now just want to sit in front of the TV and snooze.

Maybe that is how Christmas should be. Full on, and then sleep.

I am a very lucky chap.

It’s beginning to look a lot like a long journey

We will be getting up early tomorrow (22nd) because we need to be on the road b y 0530. We are travelling from Edinburgh to Brighton to spend Christmas with our son Rob and his fiancée Alessa. At best it is a nine hour journey plus break stops. However, the BBC website says that tomorrow will be the busiest road day of the year, with many people still working and many others, like us, travelling for Christmas. So we expect the worst.

There is also a yellow weather warning for high winds, and with the roof box on the car that does make us a little like a sail. We will have to be particularly careful on bridges.

I am not looking forward to it. When we are on the narrowboat we also have to be careful for winds. Particularly in marinas it can be exceptionally difficult to steer. But we are only going at 2 or 3 mph, and the beauty of being retired is that if we do not like the weather we can just moor up.

I think the biggest difference between travelling in a car and travelling in a narrowboat is that in a car, it is all about looking forward to the destination, while in a narrowboat, it is all about the journey itself.

But there aren’t any canals between Scotland and England, and even if there were, the 380 miles would take us about two months.

Christmas will not wait for us, and so we just need to grit our teeth tomorrow and face into the journey. At least we can stick on some Christmas songs to cheer us up. And when we get there I am sure we will have a really lovely week with our family and Alessa’s family,

So instead of Bah Humbug, I will be Ho Ho Ho and wish you and yours a very very merry Christmas.

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