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.

Is three years enough to be properly retired?

My last day at work was Christmas Eve 2020. In the months before I left, I spoke to a number of people who were already retired and a common theme was that it takes years to learn how to be properly retired. When I was at work I was very used to change. It was one of the things I was particularly good at and so I doubted their words. For me, it would take maybe three months. Certainly no longer…

It will not surprise you to hear that they were right and I was wrong. That is not to say that it was not immediately enjoyable. The first few months in retrospect I treated like being at work. I had lists of jobs to do and an urgency that was just like work. I got a lot done and it was fun. I was a total irritant to my wife because I wanted to organise everything.

After that, the first year was more like a very long holiday. We had the narrowboat and were off on our first long trip, across the north of England. I wanted to make the most of every day and despite best intentions I still had a tendency to rush at everything. I did not like “days off”. If we did stop in a location I would find five or six things that absolutely needed doing and would take up my time.

The second year was better. I still had a pretty detailed plan of how we would spend the year – where we should get to by when. But I was a bit more chilled about plans changing and relaxing into each day. It was the first year after the pandemic and we made the most of it to see old friends as we boated around the south of England.

This third year has been the best yet. We have still travelled a long way, from Chester to Bristol and back. We have had real adventures and Mandy, the dogs and I have made a great team. But I have also enjoyed the days when we did not travel. I still find it hard just to read a book or do a jigsaw, and I have tended to go off and find a stately home or a new town to see. But I am getting there.

For next year’s narrowboat trip we have so far just planned the first canal – Liverpool to Leeds. It makes me uncomfortable not to have more of a plan, but I am trying to learn to be a better retiree.

When I first left work I was determined to have something to aim towards, not just to stop. I had seen too many people stop work, do nothing and get ill. And I think in that I have succeeded. We are so lucky to be able to do what we do, whether on the boat, or on our trips away. It is a wonderful life.

And after three years I feel like I am still only beginning to make the most of that life. After three years I am probably still not properly retired. But I am getting better at it!

Choosing a house is stressful but oh so interesting

We have been staying in West Lancashire this week, looking for a house to buy. Over the past 40 years, we have lived in twelve different houses, usually moving for my job. Now we are retired it is time for my wife Mandy to come first and she has always wanted to live near her friends and family in Lancashire. She was born in Burnley and has a red rose in her heart.

The key criteria for choosing has been within an hour of Burnley. But that still gives a great deal of choice, especially since we are looking at a range of prices because we can choose to swap some pension assets for property if that makes sense. At the start of the week we had a long list of 54 houses on Rightmove.

We narrowed that list down eventually to about 16, and then by “drive by” to about 8. We have spent most of the past few days, visiting those 8. And boy have we seen some fascinating things. There was a beautiful farmhouse near Barnoldswick, dating back to about 1500. There was a house in the middle of Lytham St Annes that had a room full of snakes – yes really! And most interesting of all, we went to see an old cottage, near Blackpool airport, which turned out to be a witch’s house. Everything was painted black, and the cottage was filled with spiders, skulls and black cats. It even had a coffin shaped mirror in the bedroom.

We feel a little guilty about delving into other people’s lives, but we were genuinely looking for our new home, and by Wednesday night we had narrowed our search down to two properties. The first is a stunning stone built house in a village to the east of Preston. It has three stories, with a beautiful lounge on the first floor, overlooking woodland and a brook, and a wonderful kitchen diner on the ground floor, with stone flagstones and underfloor heating,

The second house is a new build on a small estate near Freckleton. The builder has gone bust, which meant the price front the administrator was excellent, and it has really spacious bedrooms, overlooking fields across the Fylde peninsular.

After two days of deliberating we have put in an offer on the second house and are waiting to see if it accepted. As a new house it provides a blank canvas for us. I wonder if Mandy will be looking for a pointed hat and a broomstick?

Is 60 too old for a school reunion?

Last Saturday I attended a school reunion for my year at Ernest Bailey Grammar School in Matlock, Derbyshire. We left school in 1982, 41 years ago, and are now 59 or 60 years old. I was really not sure about whether to attend.

We did have one other reunion, after 20 years, and while it was nice to see old school friends, there was something a little too competitive about the conversations. – who could claim to have achieved more with their lives.

This time it was so much more chilled. 54 ex-students came, along with 7 ex-teachers. We are all at or reaching retirement and the conversations were comfortable, reflecting on happy memories from school, and chatting about all our different directions in life. I do not find it easy to mix in social occasions like this but I really made an effort to circulate. I remembered few faces but we had name tags and the names brought back so many more memories than I expected.

No doubt there were people who did enjoy it, but in general students at our school had a really rewarding experience, and that was reflected in our conversations. I do feel sorry for children that these days have so much more pressure for exam results and from social media. School should be a time for study, learning how to get on with others, for play and for mischief – not necessarily in that order.

So thankyou so much to Helen and Sarah for organising the event. 60 is clearly not too old for a school reunion. Happy days.

How is the narrowboat?

I’m back at the narrowboat tonight. Over the past few weeks it has been taken out of the water and blacked (bitumen painted on the hull to protect it), It has new sacrificial anodes (zinc plates under the water to prevent electrolysis pitting the steel). It has had the roof stripped back to metal and repainted with 7 or 8 layers of primer, undercoat and top coat (the sun and my poor repairs had made the roof flaky). The engine has been fully serviced and the coolant system pressure checked after we overheated last summer. They have investigated a leak in the central heating system and dampness by the water pump.

Last time the boat was out of the water

So my job this weekend is to check the work, and to make sure that everything else still works, especially the heating now that cold weather is coming. I am looking forward to being back, even if it is just for a couple of days.

We are currently looking at moving house from Scotland to Lancashire, and as part of that we may have to live on the boat before Spring, which we have not done before, so it is fairly critical that it is warm. We can heat the boat in one of three ways. We can use the webasto boiler, we can use our “bubble stove” diesel fire, or we can run the engine. The last of these is not really an option while we are in a marina overwinter, but the other two techniques should be OK. Often people assume that narrowboats are cold in winter because they just have a single skin of metal, but in fact they have such a small airspace that they warm up very quickly. The only challenge is first thing in the morning, when I need to run from my warm bed to press the button on the webasto controller, before returning to bed for 30 minutes while it warms up.

Hopefully everything will be fine. And then there is just the bill to pay to the boatyard for their work. The saying is that “boat” stands for “bung on another thousand” and it is not far wrong! It is worth it though.

Eight reasons to love the Outer Hebrides

We are coming to the end of our month long visit to North Uist in the Outer Hebrides and it seems to have gone so fast. I would very happily stay for another month or even longer. In some ways I do not want to encourage more tourists because the island might become spoilt in the same way that Skye and the North Coast 500 routes have, where locals are squeezed out and the tiny roads become blocked with queues of camper vans. Nevertheless, it is such a great place that I really want to share eight short reasons that I love these islands.

1. It is so peaceful. Particularly in North Uist, the population density is tiny, with a few little villages, and most people living in crofts, situated in small landholdings.

2. It is so beautiful. I have previously shared beach photographs. The beaches are simply amazing. But the moorland, lochlets (baby lochs) and mountains are equally stunning. Awesome views await around every corner.

3. The history is incredible. Not quite as jaw dropping as Orkney, but there are still multiple standing stones, chambered cairns, and ruined cottages. I have been particularly moved by so much evidence of the clearances between 1750 and 1860, when thousands of crafters were thrown off their land by largely English landlords, who wanted the islands for hunting and shooting.

4. There is no-one here. In the summer no doubt the islands are busier, but at this time of year there are very few tourists, and most days we find a space with no-one around. Maybe a deserted beach. Maybe a walk in the woods. Maybe at the end of one of the windy single track roads.

5. The food is very good. Although many of the restaurants are closed for the season, we have had some really delicious food. I recommend Langass Lodge, where we had a wonderful Halloween themed evening; the Hebridean Smokehouse, which makes unbelievably tasty smoked salmon and smoked scallops; and Kallin Seafood café, hidden at the back of a chandlery for trawlermen, next to where the fishing boats come in. We had the most perfect lobster one lunchtime, fresh from the sea, served with chips and a Marie Rose sauce.

6. The skies are so clear. I don’t mean they are cloudless. As well as sunshine, we have had days of sideways rain. But we are so far north that the skies have a lightness about them, the same light through the day that in most places you just see at dawn or dusk. When it is sunny, the skies are a deep blue directly above, and fade to almost white at the horizons.

7. Nights in the cottage are cosy. There is no light pollution here so it gets very dark. We have an excellent multi fuel stove. So most nights we have hunkered down with the warmth of the stove, and watched a film on Netflix or Disney Plus. Despite the remoteness, mobile broadband means that we have surprisingly good internet here.

8. Being here has been so good for my mental health. I don’t know whether it is the peace, the light, the quietness, but it has calmed everything down in my head, and tomorrow I will be returning to the mainland feeling properly refreshed.

It’s such a great place to be.

Are these the most beautiful beaches in the world?

We are nearly half way on our Outer Hebrides adventure. Two weeks in and two weeks to go. We have already seen all weathers, from torrential rain, to bright sunshine; from gale force winds to total stillness. I have been out every day and have been astounded by so many brilliant beaches, most of them completely empty.

I think the sun being so low in the sky helps, giving a dawn/dusk light throughout the day, and giving the seas a lovely turquoise colour. I love the peace. All you can hear are the waves, and an occasional bird. It feels as if being here is just perfect.

West beach on the island of Benbeluca is so perfect that a photograph was once used in a Thailand tourist brochure. It is a little colder here though!

I wonder what new vistas are in store for us in the second fortnight. I love these islands.

Near Lochmaddy
West beach, Berneray
Hougharry
The isle of Vallay (only accessible at low tide)
Barry Airport runway (yes, really!)
Vatersay
Askernish
Eriskay, where the AM Politician was sunk in 1941., inspiring Whisky Galore
Creagorry

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑