"AS IT HAPPENED" - AN E-MAIL ACCOUNT OF THE 2008 SOUTHERN RING

E-MAILS SENT FROM "BASIL" to FAMILY & FRIENDS

Sunday, June 28, 2008

Yo!

A small plop occurred while I was washing Basil today. It was my cell phone. It went straight in the water without even grazing the boat or the dock. So please use Barb's number if you need to call us. Please also make sure (Aline, Linda or Anita) that Dad has read this. I will order a new one and will let you know the number as soon as I have it.

We went to look at Mercia Marina near Derby yesterday. Even though it's three times the size of Ventnor Farm and still a hole in the ground we were impressed enough to sign up for it. It is near a rail station, three pubs and a shop in a nice little canal village called Willington. It's less convenient for my brothers to drive there as it's further north, but it is cheaper and we liked the manager, who is from Wisconsin, as it happens. There is no BS about charging people to work on boats. We got a nice little end berth right by the facilities.

Love,
Rog


Thursday, July 10, 2008

Dear Family & Friends,

A quick update - we are in Oxford at the southern terminus of the Oxford canal waiting to enter the Thames which is currently in flood. You can guess therefore that the weather has been fairly atrocious though we have escaped the worst of it by cruising at judicious times. On Tuesday it was a nice day so we did a marathon 7 1/2 hour cruise to the little canal village of Thrupp where we holed up in the boat and the Boat Inn while it pissed down all day Wednesday. Our own little Noah's ark. We fired up the stove, watched TV and caught up with the Sunday papers.

Today was one of those adventurous days that we would rather avoid. Barb struggled with some impossibly heavy lift bridges. At one, a construction worker had to help out. Then, at Dukes lock on the way into Oxford, her windlass slipped as she was winding down a "paddle" (sluice gate) and  it spun round and smashed her hand. She had a ghastly looking black bruise the size of an egg on her knuckles but it's going down now and three glasses of wine has numbed her up. We walked into Oxford and came across a crime scene reminiscent of "Inspector Morse" (for those of you who know that police show). Thames Valley Police (Morse's old outfit) were there in strength with a body bag and a white-coated forensic unit. We were prohibited from walking the towpath just yards from our boat. We hope there is not a serial killer on the loose!

Now we are waiting for my brother Michael and his wife, Angela, to join us for the weekend. If the river has subsided enough, we will head upstream towards Lechlade. Sorry about all these place names, but I figure you can look them up in an atlas if you are really interested. Braunston, Napton, Cropredy, Banbury, Thrupp - we have visited them all so far this year. You have to admit they have a certain ring about them and, with the exception of Banbury, they are all as charming as their names.

Love,
Rog

Monday, July 14, 2008

Hi Folks,

Barb SteeringWe are back in Oxford after a foray up the Thames with my brother Michael and his wife Angela. As we turned off the canal into the Thames, I knew we were in for a ride! The water was so high we only cleared the railway bridge by a couple of inches. The river was running very fast and I had Basil on full throttle spewing black smoke as we tried to turn upstream. We were straddling the river broadside and heading downstream rapidly on the current as I heaved on the tiller. Fortunately there was nobody coming the other way. In fact we had the whole river to ourselves because few venture out in these conditions. We gave up the idea of going all the way to the head of navigation at Lechlade. All the locks had yellow "strong stream" warnings posted. The lock keepers were all very helpful with advice on how to negotiate the weir streams, etc. Finally at Northmoor, we encountered a red "no go" flood board. The lock keeper issued me with a warning notice (see pic). "I have to give you this", he said, "it's my job." But he advised us to continue up to Newbridge where there were safe moorings and wait for the flood to subside.







NewbridgeNew Bridge is actually one of the oldest bridges on the Thames (see pic) and has a brace of quaint pubs perched one at each end. We had a very good meal in one of them, "The Rose Revived". The next day, I phoned Northmoor twice to get an update. The red board was lifted at 10 am and an hour later I deemed it safe to head back downstream. I was very nervous, as heading upstream in a flood is one thing, but going down the boat becomes a very fast out-of-control 15-ton steel tank. As usual, I worry too much, and it was fine. Basil sprang down the river like a kitten released from his box. Michael and I easily avoided the weirs and snuggled into the locks like pros. We got back to Oxford in about half the time it took to get up.
Upper Thames
It was great to have M&A aboard and we were sorry to see them go. We always have fun with them and Barb and Ange were reduced to uncontrollable fits of giggles on several occasions while Mike and I looked at each other in blank disbelief. We are way ahead of schedule so we are going to hole up in Oxford for a couple of days and get some chores done.

Love,
Rog






Thursday, July 17, 2008

It is Basil Boat's birthday today. He was launched a year ago today in very similar weather (grey and damp) at Northwich on the Trent & Mersey canal, far north of here. We celebrated by touching up his paint in Oxford and then setting him free again on the Thames. He bounded exuberantly down river with lots of water under his counter for a change. The Thames is still running fast but all the scary flood boards are down, the lock-keepers have retired into their usual taciturn shells, and it's just a fantastic river for cruising freely. We made Abingdon at the rate of 5 lock/miles per hour, way better than the 3 l/m/h we use for planning purposes. We wound through Oxford and Folly Bridge (a cute island spanned by a bridge) and the assembled boathouses of the various Oxford colleges, before a peaceful rural section which could have been on the Amazon, climate excepted. As I said to my brother Mick, it always amazes me that in one of the most crowded countries on Earth, you can still seem to be totally alone on a wild river. Herons, swans and coots abound and fish are jumping left and right.

We are starting to see a few gin-and-tonic millionaire yachts mixed in with the likes of Basil and will, no doubt, encounter many more as we approach London. Barb got lots of steering practice and big-lock boat control, and did very well indeed. Tonight we opened a special bottle of wine that Mick & Ange left us and toasted Basil's first year. Of course, it's also the end of his warranty and, Roger being Roger, I worry that he will instantly fall apart. So far, he has not disappointed.

Abingdon, at first glance, is a classic old river town. Salter's steamers still carry passengers up to Oxford or down to Wallingford as they did in Victorian times. However, Abingdon seems to have fallen on hard times, unlike Oxford which is booming beyond belief. Many of the old buildings and some of the pubs are boarded up and young hoodlums with nothing better to do roam the streets. The "chavs", as they are called here, all carry knives - if the BBC news is to be believed. The news here is uncannily similar to US news - violence in the streets, rampant inflation, the credit crisis. There was even a story on tonight's news about illegal immigrants feeding off the welfare state.

Boat CatsOn a lighter note, for all you cat lovers there's a picture of a pair of boat cats living aboard a boat in Oxford. More soon.

Love, Rog.

P.S. One of my correspondents (Sharon) pointed out that I did not follow up on a couple of stories. So- Barb's bruised hand is totally healed. The dead body in the Thames, we learned from the local news, was a 62 year-old man who lived on a canal boat. The police are not saying if it was a murder but a 42 year-old man is "in custody, helping them with their enquiries". Where is Inspector Morse when you need him? Dead, unfortunately.


Sunday, July 20, 2008

Hello again,

"Oh no! Not him again", I hear you sigh. Well, stuff keeps happening so I have to get it down. Besides, after next week, we'll be going like the clappers to get up the Grand Union to our new moorings.  Lazy days of idling away the hours on the river will be over, so e-mail opportunities will be fewer. We are currently tied up to a tree in the middle of nowhere but supposedly within walking distance of the ancient Roman town of Dorchester which we will explore tomorrow. We are reading the Sunday papers which are full of Obama's visit to Europe. Makes a change; we thought the US election had been cancelled because there's been so little coverage of it here.

We had a great time in Abingdon, which turned out to be a lot nicer place than my initial impression. We went on some nice walks through an old abbey and alongside little tributaries of the Thames. We were lucky enough to see the end of "Swan Upping", a ritual that only the English could invent. All the swans "belong" to the Queen, so every July Her Majesty's Swan Markers dress up in lurid costumes and board skiffs festooned with royal insignia. They are towed up river by motor boats, though in the old days they had to row the whole way from Eton to Abingdon. Upon seeing a new family of swans, they corral them with their boats and drag them inboard. This is hilarious to watch as them swans are real mean critters.  There's lots of shouting, splashing, hissing and displays of dubious oarsmanship. They truss them up and put them on the bank where they are tagged and weighed before being put back in the water. The swan family we saw being tagged - two adults and four cygnets - left the scene in formation and at high speed, volubly cursing the Queen. In the evening we found Her Majesty's men in the pub having a riotous time swigging ale, singing drinking songs, lampooning Chelsea Pensioners *, and chatting up the ladies. Barb told one of them we were in a narrowboat and he said "You mean a mash barge, don't you?" I still haven't found out what that means but I'm sure it's derogatory. At ten o' clock, they all left in a big bus, leaving the ladies behind.
Swan Uppers at Abingdon Bridge
Next day Rowena, a friend from near London, joined us for a couple of days. We motored downriver to Clifton Hampden, a picture perfect village of thatched cottages, a pub and a post office clustered on a hill near the river. They had the nerve to charge us 3 pounds ($6) to moor up next to a farmer's field. Abingdon has scads of hardened moorings free. I felt a bit churlish because I complained to the fee collector but she explained it was to help the local school which only has 50 students and "you're in the minority, nobody else has complained".

On the way to Clifton, we had another "incident". I was at the helm, waving cheerily to a rowboat that I had actually managed to avoid when the smoke alarm went off in the kitchen, surprising the hell out of all of us including the rowers. Barb rushed inside and yelled out for me. I thrust the tiller into Rowena's hand and disppeared into the boat where I found Barb holding the fire blanket over the stove. I had left the gas on under the teapot and the tea cosy had caught fire. (A tea cosy is a sort of bonnet thingy that keeps the tea warm in the pot).  I opened the side doors and hurled the blazing cosy into the river. No damage done except for one very red face and the prospect of cool tea for a week or so as penance. Thank God I installed the smoke alarms this year, it could have been really serious.

There are pictures attached of the Swan Uppers about to toast the Queen at Abingdon bridge, and the village of Clifton Hampden, taken this morning.
Clifton Hampden

Love, Rog

* Chelsea Pensioners are elderly ex-servicemen.


Sunday, July 27, 2008

Hello y'all,

We are at Henley tonight, moored within sight of the church and beside the grandstand of the Henley Regatta, which most of you Yanks won't have heard of, but it's probably the most famous river festival in Limeyland. Everything's set up for it but I'm not sure if it just happened or if it is yet to come. If I was not so damn lazy I'd Google it. Fortunately for us it was not this weekend - negotiating the hordes of launches, canoes, rowing boats, steamers, floating gin palaces and other narrowboats was quite enough.

We came down from Pangbourne today where we had attended my friend John Minett's 75th birthday party. He and I are the only narrowboat owners in Arizona, we believe, and it was fun to meet him by boat for once. It was a lovely party under awnings in a meadow by the river and about 30 people, mostly John's family, attended. Barb was the life and soul of the party. Many of John's family had flown in from Ireland and they were all larger than life - complicated, boozy, outgoing and fun. I felt quite out of place (except for the boozy bit).

There was one weird event the night before the party (I have to include at least one in every e-mail). Just after midnight a rowdy party appeared right next to our boat. There was a lot of drunken shouting, complaining about the lack of women, etc. Then they let off salvos of display-quality fireworks, totally illegally. It was like WW2 deja vu. I cowered in our boat, but the fellow behind us called the police at 2 a.m. and the revellers left in a hurry by boat. Barb slept through the whole event, protected by ear plugs and blindfold, her customary night attire. Next morning, Basil was covered with firework remnants and cordite detritus. Some people have no thought for anyone else. They were not young, by all accounts, but men in their forties.

No photos this time. It's about 35 (100) degrees in Basil's "office" right now, so I don't have the fortitude to download pictures. I'll do it when it's cooler. The great weather continues, though thundery rain is predicted for Tuesday onward.

Love,
Rog

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Dear Friends & Family,

I am beginning to think we are starring in a disaster movie. Yesterday's episode involved crashing into another boat in a Thames lock (Bray lock). The collision broke both hinges on our cratch (the cover over the forward deck) and brought the whole edifice down on Barb, who was standing on the deck. Like most accidents, it was caused by a combination of errors. I was distracted while asking the lock-keeper a question, his assistant took the bow line from Barb but then failed to pull the boat in with it, and the skipper in front lost control of his boat at the last minute and swung across the lock into our path. We hit the inflatable dinghy attached to his stern so there was no damage to his boat, luckily. Barb has some bruises and a graze on her leg. It could have been a lot worse. The cratch is a heavy wooden structure with a canvas cover. I am trying to get new hinges for it, but until then it is dismantled and stowed on the roof.

That quite ruined my day, which was a shame as we have been having the greatest time otherwise. We have had an unbroken sequence of charming overnight and lunchtime moorings. At Henley, our friends John & Rosemary joined us for a morning cruise down to Marlow. We were one of the last few boats through Marlow lock before it broke down, we later heard, so we do have some luck on our side. After a pub lunch with them, we motored down to Cliveden Reach, a beautiful stretch of river with a huge wooded hill on the left bank. We passed Cliveden house, former home of the Astors, which was the scene of sex scandals in the sixties involving a government minister, John Profumo, and several expensive call girls including Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies. We moored up against a little island in the middle of the river attached to two trees. That night there was torrential rain for a couple of hours, but we were sleeping snugly in Basil boat. I expected the island to be under water by morning with the river raging past the windows but, strangely, neither occurred. However, we had to operate the next lock  ourselves as the keeper was away opening the floodgates on the weir to cope with the impending torrent from upstream.

Windsor CastleYesterday we moored right opposite Windsor Castle for lunch and went in to Windsor and looked around. It is a compact little town in the shadow of the castle walls but completely overrun by tourists. The castle is huge and surrounded by acres of grounds. At night we moored at Runnymede, site of the signing of the Magna Carta and the Kennedy memorial. A short cruise today brought us down to Weybridge where we have a grand view of the Thames, Shepperton weir and the entrance to the River Wey. We are heading down it tomorrow. It is the most southern waterway on the whole system. The weather continues to be wonderful - sunny but not too hot and with fresh breezes. We hope it stays that way for our first ever American guests, Jan & Grant, who arrive on Sunday. Barring further accidents we will be in Guildford.

For those of you who are thinking of joining us in London, the tentative schedule looks like this:

August 6th (p.m.): Moored at Teddington
Aug 7th, 6 a.m. depart Teddington for the Thames tideway through Central London to Limehouse. Moored Limehouse p.m.
August 8th. Cruise from Limehouse to Little Venice through the zoo and Regent's Park. Moored at L.V or Paddington basin at night.
August 9th. Long (7 hr) cruise through the inner suburbs to West London (Hayes).

The tideway cruise requires lifejackets, a really early start, and a maximum of two additional people (6 including Barb & I and Jan & Grant). Basil is full overnight, so I'm sorry we can't put anyone up.

The Old CrownPictures attached are of our mooring opposite Windsor Castle, and the quaint little pub up the road from tonight's mooring - where we hope to take Jan and Grant on Tuesday when we leave the Wey.

Love,
Rog
07758 288641

Saturday, 9th August

Hi Disaster Movie Fans,

Sorry, ain't got nothing for you this time. It's not been smooth sailing exactly but no more accidents to report. We cruised down the River Wey to Guildford to meet our friends Jan and Grant who are to be with us for about 10 days. We aim to exploit them unmercifully so we can get ahead of schedule up the Grand Union towards our new home marina near Derby. They seem gullible and willing. Actually, they are great company and we've been having a ball. Unfortunately, they like to drink. That's all we need - encouragement!

The Wey was beautiful though the locks are very heavy and not well maintained. The river is run by the National Trust (similar to the US Nature Conservancy) and I sensed that their hearts are not really in it.  It took two days to get to Guildford which is a very pleasant town clustered on a hill above the river. A ruined castle sits upon the hill, and some genius (but anonymous) gardener has laid out the grounds with the most immaculate floral displays I have ever seen. Unfortunately, our stay in Guildford was marred by some drunken yobbos (yahoos) who smashed a beer bottle on our boat, jumped on the roof, and generally caused mayhem just after we got to sleep. I called the police who said they'd send somebody but I never saw anyone. No damage done, but it frightened us badly.

With Jan & Grant aboard we cruised back up the Wey to the Thames and turned right towards London. The Thames is beautiful right through the city. We stopped at Hampton Court Palace, built by Henry VIII. Amazingly we found a mooring there easily and, in fact, never had a problem finding moorings anywhere on the Thames, in complete contradiction to the warnings in guide books and by other boaters. The lock-keepers were unfailingly helpful and we only met one slightly grumpy one.

Finally, on August 7th, the day dawned that I had been planning for, worrying about, going to radio school for, and generally losing sleep over. The dreaded passage of the Thames Tideway. The previous evening, moored above the last lock, I grilled the lock staff for advice. They informed me it would be a 6 metre tide which is a pretty huge spring tide They won't give you "go, no-go" advice - that is for the poor skipper to decide. I also spoke to another boater who had done it. She said "It's like childbirth, really scary but you feel wonderful when it's over". Mulling all over this during the night and acutely aware that I was responsible for four lives, I nevertheless decided to go for it.

The day dawned steely grey but dry and we were the first into the lock. Four other narrowboats joined us but none of them were going all the way down the tideway like us. At 7 a.m. we joined the high tide and cruised the swollen river fairly sedately down through Richmond and past Kew Gardens. There  was little traffic at that time of day. The only wrinkle was that I could not raise Thames Control (callsign "London VTS") on my new radio. I phoned them and told them I could hear them OK on the radio and they let us proceed. Later, the radio worked fine so I'm not sure what that was all about.

Jan and Barb drove the whole way to Tower Bridge while I monitored London VTS and read out the navigation instructions (which bridge arch to use, etc.). By the time we got to Hammersmith, the tide was running with us and we began to pick up speed. We zoomed past Chiswick, Putney, Lambeth bridge and the HQ of MI6 to which we gave a wide berth, as instructed. Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament were impressive in the early morning light and the London Eye (a giant ferris wheel erected as part of the millenium celebrations) loomed above us on the south bank. There was now a decided chop on the river and by the time we got to London Bridge and the Tower of London it was decidedly rough. Jan was clutching the tiller and the rest of us were clinging to bits of Basil and glad we had our lifejackets on. Basil reared and bucked, totally out of his normal canal environment, but he handled it well. His bow crashed into the waves and the prop cavitated as it came out of the water but there was no rolling or threat of capsizing and he skipped down river like the cat boat that he is.

As we passed under Tower Bridge, I radioed Jeremy, the lock-keeper at Limehouse. He was expecting us as I had called him the day before. He reported that he had two boats in the lock but it should be open and ready for us when we arrived. I took the tiller from Jan and she and Barb read the guide book to spot the entrance to Limehouse. We sped past it and I gave the sound signal for a U-turn to port and turned Basil's head upriver. We were now going against the tide and I used a lot of power to crab over to the entrance. Finally, I turned Basil in and with the sudden release from the tidal flow he careened towards the wall of the lock entrance. Grant was ready with a fender but I managed to swing the bow away from the wall and we puttered gently into the lock. Jeremy was far above us, a slight figure on the lock wall, and he told us where to secure the boat in the huge rubbish-filled lock chamber. It was like the Chamber of the Gates of Hell. As the lock filled, I started to relax and realized that I was shaking all over.
Limehouse Entrance
Safely in the basin, I radioed London VTS to report our arrival and thank them and we fell into the Grapes, one of the oldest pubs in London, for a celebratory ale or two. Was it worth all the aggro? Oh, yes!

Paddington BasinAfter a night in the well equipped Limehouse basin, we cruised the Regent's canal to Little Venice with friends Stacy and John aboard. The Regent's is mucky and filled with rubbish through the East End of London (I had to clear the prop of plastic bags and weed), but it ends in a blaze of glory through Camden Town, the zoo, Regent's Park and Little Venice. Some of the greatest canalia in England. We moored in the new basin at Paddington in the heart of the City. It was safe, peaceful, and free for seven days - amazing! A credit to British Waterways and the council. New development is all around and, presumably, the developers paid for the basin, I can't imagine BW could afford it.

Today we went through the inner suburbs of London in the gloom of a cold, rainy day to Bull's Bridge  with more friends aboard, Colin & Sue. Grant and I shopped in the supermarket adjacent to the canal. Grant is a criminal court judge but he is also a skilled chef and he's cooking tonight. Yummy!

Love,
Rog


Sunday, August 17, 2008

Hi Family & Friends,

HeronWe are now at Milton Keynes, a "new town" about half way up the Grand Union Canal which runs from London to Birmingham. The canal climbs steeply out of London into the Chiltern Hills, a rise of about 400 feet. That may not seem much but, believe me, it's a hell of a lot of locks (45 actually). We were greatly helped by our first American crew, Jan & Grant, who helped us all the way to Berkhamsted where they left us for London and home to Phoenix. Grant cooked us a couple of memorable meals afloat - no mean feat in Basil's cramped and unfamiliar galley. We were genuinely sorry to see them leave.

Since then, the GU has become more meandering and with fewer locks. We took a side trip at the summit level down the tiny Wendover Arm to the Tringford pumping station. This is an old building which formerly housed giant steam pumps. Now the pumps are silent electric versions but they do the same job - pumping water from several reservoirs to feed the summit. Every time a boat crosses the summit level it uses 200,000 gallons of water to empty the locks at each end. We arrived at the end of the Arm in a howling gale and rain and it took several attempts to turn the boat round against the wind in the "winding hole" at the end. Next day we went for a long walk around one of the reservoirs which are a haven for wildlife, particularly birds. Hides have been set up on the banks for bird watchers. Every day we see several herons (see pic), numerous ducks, geese, swans, coots and moorhens but we have yet to see a Kingfisher, one of the most colorful birds in Britain. I caught a flash of one on the Thames but nothing up close.

Since then, we have pootled North, trying to keep dry. We have mostly succeeded in spite of the very unsettled weather, though one afternoon a hailstorm soaked us as we were mooring up opposite a cattle farm. The cows had the sense to move into their milk sheds before the storm hit. Although Milton Keynes is one of the first "master planned" communities and somewhat depressing, there are some charming stretches of the canal as it winds around it. We are currently moored next to a public orchard (free apples!) and a short walk leads to Woughton-on-the-Green which has the quaintest low-beamed pub, the Swan (see pic), next to the old church and the Green. We are about to go up there to sample their Sunday roast lunch.
Swan Pub Interior
One of the biggest improvements of this year over last is the Internet access. We are using a third generation (3G) wireless modem which has never failed to connect right from the boat even in remote areas. It is pay-as-you-go and I thought it was going to be expensive but we have never exceeded our 1GB per month allowance, which costs 10 pounds ($18.60).
Dogs
Haircut

Finally, there's a rare sighting of Roger with his new Nohair Cut, obtained in Leighton Buzzard. Barb thinks it makes me look 10 years younger. Also a picture of the most dogs I've ever seen on a boat.

Finally, finally, we've been collecting boat names. My favourite so far is "Cirrhosis of the River".

Love, Rog & Barb




Sunday, August 31, 2008

Dear Friends & Family,

Lock at Stoke BruerneWe are now just about 10 cruising hours from our new marina, so this will be the last update, most likely. Since I last wrote, we continued to chug up the Grand Union canal before finally leaving it at Braunston. It seemed like we were on the GU for weeks, probably because we were. Just before Braunston we visited the canal museum at Stoke Bruerne (pic) and ate a superb meal in the Boat Inn restaurant. My brother Michael and his wife Ange came aboard and accompanied us through Braunston, up the Oxford canal and on to Coventry. At Braunston we ran into a huge traffic jam caused by a jammed lock gate. We banked Basil and went into the village to shop. When we got back, the obstruction had just been cleared and we were still third in line to go through - great timing! The traffic has been heavy ever since, much heavier than the Thames or Grand Union. At Fazely, we ran into a huge flotilla coming from a boat rally in Birmingham. Fortunately, they were all going the other way.


Coventry BasinThe Coventry canal is very scummy, running through a depressing industrial wasteland and full of rubbish. There's graffiti everywhere and a couple of times kids threw stuff at us from the bridges. I was nervous about mooring in Coventry overnight but the basin was beautifully restored, clean and safe. It was floodlit all night and ringed by security cameras. The town was virtually destroyed by the Luftwaffe in WWII and rebuilt in the 60's, including a magnificent new cathedral next to the burned out nave of the old one. Then Coventry's manufacturing base disappeared. The resulting economic decline is worse than anything the Nazis inflicted on the city. The City centre was depressingly devoid of intelligent life. Drunks and out-of-control youths roamed the streets.

We continue to break weather records. Last year was the wettest summer on record, this year it has been the most overcast August in history. Barb has somehow managed to retain her sunny disposition, however. She is a great American ambassador, befriending everyone at the locks and throwing rays of sunshine all around. She preps the locks and as I swim into view I hear peals of laughter and see Barb up there grinning with a bunch of new friends. The locks have been fewer as we head North, so sometimes she walks along the towpath for miles of exercise while I pilot Basil. Fradley Junction is beautiful but it would be so much better looking in the sun - a gentle continuous rain is falling as I write. Tomorrow we head out on to our last canal of the year - the Trent and Mersey.

We have been lucky to get good TV reception for several nights, so we saw all the big speeches in the Democratic convention, courtesy of the BBC Parliament channel which showed CSPAN reruns every day. We are gobsmacked by McCain's choice of running mate! Has he flipped his lid, or what? He may as well have handed the election to Obama on a plate. We are also following hurricane Gustav. Ray Nagin's press conference was just shown in full.

One final anecdote - yesterday I ran aground in a big way while trying to moor here. Forward, reverse, bow thruster, giant boat poles; nothing worked, Basil wouldn't budge. Then another boat chugged into view. The lady steerer said "are you really from Woodchurch?" She pointed to the "Appledore" sign on her boat  - Appledore is the next village to Woodchurch. Anyway, she offered to tow us off the bank. I hurled the stern line at her but missed and she said "I see you need a lesson in rope throwing", and proceeded to lecture me step by step. I bit my tongue as, after all, she was helping us out. Barb was beside herself with mirth. We were successfully towed off and the imperious ex-Scout from Appledore left with a final self-satisfied smirk.

Weedon PharmacyPictures attached: Stoke Bruerne, Michael & Barbara, Coventry Basin - and some of you will remember the Wheaton Pharmacy, so here is the English equivalent!

Love,
Rog
Mick & Barb


Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Dear Friends and Family,

Barb ReadingWell, OK, I know I was not going to send you any more news but I just can't resist boring your pants off. This has really been the most dreadful summer weather-wise. I have to keep reminding myself about the dreadful heat in Arizona and the awful "monsoon" storms (more of that later) but, really, it's been awful here too. I can't remember the last time we saw the sun unclothed. We have just spent the last four days in Burton-on-Trent mostly holed up in Basil with the rain pounding on the roof. The Coors brewery loomed ominously on the skyline, the largest brewery in this town of breweries and dismal streets. The natives are friendly, though, and we had the mighty Albion pub to give succour.

Today, we wrenched ourselves loose from the clutches of Burton and I steered Basil through the driving rain to our new mooring at Mercia Marina on the Trent and Mersey canal near Derby. Barb did her last, tearful lock. Mercia is new, "built" in an old lake and, because of all the rain, there is no sewer yet - hence no toilets, showers or laundry. The site is awash with mud and muck. The roads are not yet in and there we can't go anywhere on land without wellies (full length boots). In spite of all that, I am cheerful about the outcome. We have a nice end mooring by a facilities block, we get lots of channels on TV, the computer works and we have mobile phone service. Above all, we have constant electricity and water, so we don't have to rely on Basil's battery banks and engine alternator for power for the first time since we left in June. The staff here (the manager is American) are very relaxed and friendly and have not yet handed out lists of rules and by-laws. There are pictures attached of Barb relaxing in the library/media room/lounge tonight, and a view of the marina at dusk from our kitchen window. Barb has just summoned me to view the half moon rising and to look at the shimmering lights on the water. "It's so cosy", she exclaimed.
Mercia Marina at Dusk
Meanwhile, back in Arizona, a dreadful storm struck Tempe where Marni, our winter cat, is living in the Altered Tails office. Lightning tore a hole in the roof and live electrical fittings dropped in to the deluge that swamped the room below. One of the staff, Eric, came in next morning to view the carnage, looked for Marni everywhere and could not find her. He put his head in his hands and assumed she was dead. When he looked up, it was to see Marni looking at him from her hiding place high up on a shelf. Barb can't wait to see her again. She must have been very frightened, poor thing, but her instincts were good. Apologies if I've got some details of this story wrong, but we are getting it remotely by e-mail.

Now we have to paint Basil's scars, set him up for the winter and do the laundry before driving down to Kent on Saturday or Sunday to stay with Michael and Angela for our last week in the UK. We are looking forward to being in a house again. Then we are going to Washington to be with Barb's Dad for a while before returning to Phoenix

Thanks for following our e-mail saga, we look forward to seeing many of you as soon as possible.

Love,
Rog

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