"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,
We 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.
New 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.
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.
On 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.
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.
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.
Yesterday 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.
Pictures 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.
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!
After 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,
We 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.
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).
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,
We 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.
The 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.
Pictures attached: Stoke
Bruerne, Michael & Barbara, Coventry Basin - and some of you will
remember the Wheaton Pharmacy, so here is the English equivalent!
Love,
Rog
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Dear Friends and Family,
Well, 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.
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