Another hijacking!

It's been some months since I last hijacked the Captain's blog, but in view of my impending date with the surgeon's knife, I am doing much to distract myself. And so today I found myself at Fradley Junction. This is not my usual haunt. I do not tend to leap into my car and head to the nearest canal. Or even a somewhat distant canal. But today, Fradley Junction held special appeal for me.

The Captain may have mentioned that I am something of a bibliophile. There is little I like better than to sit at the pointy end of Wand'ring Bark, reading. Unless it is to sit at the pointy end of Wand'ring Bark, reading, while drinking a large gin and tonic. Being an inanimate and, I like to think, decorative figurehead is about all I contribute to the whole boaty business but I feel it is enough. It is true that I sometimes am something of a goddess with things culinary but I don't like to brag about that. Besides this post is about sitting, drinking gin and reading. Books, in fact. This post is about books.

Doing all this sitting and reading means I get through a lot of books. And I mean a LOT (I get through quite a bit of gin too but that's an aside). So can you imagine how amazingly fantastically wonderful it is to discover that someone has come up with a way of sorting this out so that potentially I wouldn't even have to leave the Waterways?

I have discovered The Book Barge.

And it is wonderful! Now, you probably all know all about it as I am the first to admit that I am more than a little slow on the uptake when it comes to boaty matters. But this whole enterprise is just fabulous.

Normally moored at Barton Marina, they have just embarked on a six month tour so there is a reasonable chance they'll be coming to a waterway near you soon. Their itinerary is loose but at this stage they're planning on visiting Stratford, Oxford, London, Bath, Bristol, Gloucester, Chester, Manchester, Skipton, Leeds, York, Nottingham then home to Barton Marina. Have they missed anywhere? My geography is sketchy but that seems to be quite a lot of the wet bits, isn't it?

Like lots of independent book sellers, The Book Barge is struggling to stay afloat in the current economic climate but it would be a great shame if such an enterprising business were to go under (sorry for the cringing watery puns but you may have detected the Captain's influence there!). For the six months of their journey they are hoping to raise their profile both on and off the waterways and would love to be visited by anyone passing. If you can help out by supplementing or assisting with their very limited facilities (see 4th paragraph), then so much the better!

I have to say, I loved my visit. The interior was beautiful, books lined the walls. A delightful children's corner was at one end, with adult books, new and second hand, filling the rest of the shelves. Of course I made some purchases, but then I do believe there is a law that prohibits one from leaving a bookshop empty handed. At least that's what I tell the Captain. Please don't tell him otherwise! Besides, I only bought two. Which is a very modest number. I left with a beautiful copy of The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark, illustrated by Beryl Cook (which may or may not be a Folio Society edition - intrigued? I am!), an Everyman Library edition of P.G. Wodehouse's Spring Fever and a bookmark all packed together in a bright red paper carrier bag sporting The Book Barge logo.

So now I have two shiny new reads all ready for my latest trip into NHS hell. This time though I should be able to actually read which is a massive bonus. Hurrah! I make no apology for gatecrashing Andy's recounting of our delightful trip along the Leicester Ring. Instead, I would urge you all to look out for The Book Barge when it comes to your neck of the woods. I am assured that updates of location will be posted on Facebook or Twitter so follow them there for more details.

I commend them to you. Go, visit, spend lots of money and help keep bookshops independent!

Blog Hijacking and a question.

So, as regular readers may have gathered, the Captain is away. You may remember he was hoping to blog on the go thanks to the marvels of dongle technology. Sadly, his technological prowess being what it is ... (hee hee!) he's not been able to make it work. And you know what they say, while the cat's away ... mwha ha haa haaa. Actually, that's not quite right, is it? But as I've temporarily hijacked his blog I can say what I like. Oh yes!

It's been a while since I blogged here, largely because I kind of ran out of boaty things to say. However, following mine and Tilly's recent brief stopover with the Captain and Jeff at Whaley Bridge, I have a New Thing to say. Actually, it's more of a question really. I want to know if you use any canal friendly soap products while aboard and those of you who do, what are they and where do you get them from?

Knowing that my shower and washing up water drains directly into the canal has made me want to use products that cause as little damage to the water and environment as possible. I can't be the only person who thinks like this but I have had enormous difficulty tracking down environmentally friendly products. Nothing in my local, or even not so local shops, seemed suitable. It also took much rummaging on t'interweb to track anything down but eventually I found Faith in Nature. I'm not over sure about the science but I do like the products and they seem to be the sort of thing I'm looking for.

But what do the rest of you think? Do tell.

Belle's Blog - The Waterways Code

Captain Ahab’s Word for the Day: ‘Ah, the Code! More a set of guidelines really.’

The code of which the Captain speaks is the unwritten Waterways Code, and as anyone who has seen Pirates of the Caribbean will know, sticking to the Code is a sort of flexible arrangement. By and large the Code can be used to justify any action. It can be used to berate fellow boaters, whether they be ignorant, wilful or just plain stupid. It can be used to vindicate oneself in all circumstances. Kind of useful really. For instance if one is going too fast, other canal users are at perfect liberty to quote the code and insist on a speed reduction. If one is going too slowly, other canal users may quote the code and insist you speed up. Interpretation of the Code is entirely subjective and the only sure and certain thing is that the first person’s interpretation is always right. It can lead to some interesting moments but as narrowboating is an occupation of conservative excitement, these moments are to be treasured. Indeed they can be the stuff of folklore as boaters gather around the wood-burning stoves of winter and regale each other with tales of past summers’ glories. Captain Ahab is particularly fond of such tales as ‘The time a hire-boater jumped the queue for the lock’, or ‘When the lock gates were shut on my approach’ and ‘The day the paddles were left up emptying the pound’. Fortunately he doesn’t need much from an audience. He’s quite happy to wax lyrical over a steaming mug of tea and a Snickers Flap Jack with only occasional grunts to indicate attentiveness. Should he glance in my direction I’m hoping that the glazed look in my eye is misinterpreted as rapt amazement and total abandonment to the wonders of his tale. He doesn’t need to know that actually I’m trying to work out if there’s a clause in the code that prevents the excessive subjection of crew members to a Captain’s whimsical memories. I’m sure there is somewhere. I just need to find it. Hmm, I fear my landlubber ways are showing again. I should just do what all boaters do. Interpret the Code to suit my need. After all, it’s more a set of guidelines, really.

Belle's Blog - Clothes Maketh the Man

Captain Ahab’s Word for the Day: ‘It’s not the wrong sort of weather, merely the wrong sort of clothes.’

From this you might gather that our spell of sunshine was short lived. We woke this morning to torrential rain and while I rolled over and went back to sleep, grateful for my wet weather exemption, Captain Ahab leapt out of bed, keen to perform a ship’s inspection. Some hours later, when the incessant drone of the engine was impossible to ignore any longer, I hauled myself up, donned what I thought was suitable attire, and stuck my head out of the back hatch. The sight that greeted me was this: Captain Ahab dressed in shorts, sandals and a waterproof jacket with the rain hammering down on his grinning head. I scuttled back to the galley utterly convinced that my bargain pac-a-mac (£5 end of sale, Millets) may not prove to have been such a wise investment after all. From the snatches of the Sex Pistols’s ‘Anarchy’ that came wafting down from the stern I could tell that while a little damp, the Captain was a happy man. Keen to keep this bonne hommie alive I scurried about the galley toasting muffins, grilling sausages and frying eggs. Before long, the number and frequency of locks absolutely necessitated all hands on deck, so I braved the elements in my aforementioned pac-a-mac, a pair of waterproof trousers (free with the pac-a-mac), thick socks and walking boots feeling that I was wearing the most appropriate garb for the day. During the gruelling set of only five but felt like thirty, I was perversely cheered by the knowledge that despite water trickling down my back, seeping through my trousers and squelching between my toes, I must surely be drier than he of the shorts and sandals. However, as I later discovered while I peeled myself out of my sodden garments and cursed the name of pac-a-mac, Captain Ahab was irritatingly warm and dry. It seems that his waterproof jacket was probably made by Ronseal, given that it did exactly what it said. His shorts had dried in the breeze following the downpour and I was mistaken in thinking he was wearing sandals, they were self-draining shoes. So there you have it. Once again the Captain is right, the weather is never wrong, merely the clothes. Note to self – contact Ronseal and enquire about their waterproof range on return to dry land. Either that or feign illness and refuse to leave bed on wet days.

Belle's Blog - Of Yardarms and Terminologies

Captain Ahab’s Word for the Day: ‘Be sure to use the correct boating terminology at all times.’

Now this is where I have a fundamental problem with the whole boating malarkey. My brain appears to be totally of the landlubber variety and nautical terminology whistles in one ear and out of the other. Captain Ahab gets somewhat exasperated when after numerous boating trips and owning a boat for several years, I still refer to sitting at the pointy end. Seems it just isn’t done and I should by now know my bows from my stern, my port from my starboard as well as being au fait with gunwales, tillers and fenders. Perhaps I should read more Hornblower or watch old episodes of Captain Pugwash. Then again, terminology in general is something I’ve never been very good at, sporting terminology in particular. Half time is when you buy an ice cream at the theatre, isn’t it? Tennis players have just two more points to win before they can stop for a drink from the umpire’s call of ‘Juice!’ And that Rugby is played by gentlemen with odd shaped balls is something that I suspect whoever said it was quite accurate about. Given that I have a lifetime of being terminology blind, it’s not so surprising that I have problems wrapping my head around all this boat-speak. However there is one nautical phrase I have taken to like the proverbial duck and that is knowledge of the sun’s whereabouts in relation to the yardarm. Now I do know enough about narrowboats to realise that yardarms are not a feature, but this is a mere technicality. No self-respecting Galley Slave should be without this most useful of phrases. So enthusiastic am I about this, that you’ll frequently find me imbibing some alcoholic beverage or other simply out of respect for tradition. For once I find myself in agreement with Captain Ahab and can see that correct boating terminology most definitely has its uses. And as the sun is over yardarm by anyone’s estimation, I’m taking my G&T and am off to sit at the pointy end while the Captain uses that stick thing to drive the boat from the back.

Belle's Blog - Puzzling on the Picturesque

Captain Ahab’s Word for the Day: ‘The Caldon canal is reputedly the most picturesque in England.’

And very pretty it is too. The lack of rain helps, as does the occasional glimmer of sunshine. But what puzzles me most is that every trip we undertake reputedly takes in the most picturesque canal in England. At Easter, the Llangollen canal held this title. Last year it was the Peak Forest. Another time it belonged to the Kennet & Avon. This year it was the reason we were heading to Stratford. Before long I anticipate the whole of the BCN will have this honour bestowed upon them. But then again, maybe not. Regeneration has come along way since Captain Ahab’s days as a Cabin Boy when dead dogs were found floating in Gas Street Basin but picturesque may be stretching things too far even for him. Perhaps it’s a title that should be awarded annually, a bit like Britain in Bloom? Interesting concept. But possibly misses the point. I suspect that this award belongs firmly in the head of Captain Ahab and is his attempt at luring me back for yet another week as galley slave and ornamental figurehead aboard the Wand’ring Bark. Well I’m onto him. There’s no fooling me. Besides as temptations go, it’s fundamentally flawed. It rests on the assumption that I can differentiate between different stretches of canal. This I can do only up to a point. I notice when we’re going through stretches of dismal urban deprivation and decay. I notice when there are trees and bits of green stuff. That I notice the difference is largely because in the dismal places we get rocks hurled at us. And that makes me look up from my books. If it’s really bad I even lose my place. As for the other bits, to be honest, they all look much the same. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate them. I do. They’re lovely. If the sun is shining they mean I can read outside, all day, and sit at the pointy end in true figurehead fashion. See? I know my place.

Belle's Blog - Bonnie & Clyde

Captain Ahab’s Word for the Day: ‘Nowhere is far by canal; it just takes a long time to get there.’

A very long time to be precise. It’s taken us two days of what can only be described as gentle cruising to make it as far as the Staffordshire town of Stone. Even by narrowboat standards that’s slow. By car the journey would take approximately forty minutes. But I am told that speed is not the point of canal cruising. Indeed, there are people whose life ambition it seems, is to make narrowboaters slow down even further. Captain Ahab is known as a courteous and conscientious helmsman. He nearly always sticks to the Waterways’ Code, the first requirement of which must surely be to slow down when passing moored boats. So he receives it with some disgruntlement when the turtles pop their heads out and accuse him of speeding. Turtles are those boaters moored in the most inappropriate spots – the outside of a narrow bend, directly on exit from a lock, etc. They are always just inside when another boat passes, and their heads on the end of their long scrawny necks, pop straight up through a hatch crying ‘Slow down!’ in a threatening manner. Captain Ahab is generally very polite to them but he has recently expressed an interest in investing in a super soaker water spray gun. My technique would be to rev up the engine, slam on the throttle and go so fast they could only hurl abuse at my wake. Maybe we should double up with the Captain as gunner? We could be the Bonnie and Clyde of the Inland Waterways. However, as no one has committed a bank job using a narrowboat as a get away vehicle, there is every possibility that this plan would come to naught.

Belle's Blog - Wet Weather Exemptions

Captain Ahab’s Word for the Day: ‘The absence of rain does not tee shirt weather make.’

And how much wisdom is there contained in those few short words! Nevertheless waking up this morning and realising that the sense of something missing was entirely due to the fact that the rain had ceased was a welcome moment. Although it is with some horror that I then realised my excuse for avoiding the locks had gone. Not being born to life aboard or even a natural, has allowed me a ‘wet weather exemption’. In return for sumptuous feasts and sexual favours, I am granted the privilege of remaining dry in torrential downpours. This seems perfectly reasonable. After all, Captain Ahab is already soaked to the skin because maintaining a steady hand at the tiller renders it impossible to keep dry in such circumstances. No sense in both of us getting wet, is there? And besides, it’s his boat, he likes the weather. I am a hothouse flower in need of preservation, gentler climes and general all round cosseting. Consequently this morning I had to pull out all the stops in order to continue with my cosseted lifestyle. Up at the crack of dawn (that is what you call 10:30, isn’t it?), I prepared a gourmet repast of hot bacon on wholemeal and organic sausage on white rolls, washed down with freshly ground coffee and freshly squeezed orange. At least the packets promised me they were fresh. Obviously it was nearly midday by the time I had everything together, because ripping open packets takes time and skill. Even then I muddled up the mustard and tomato sauce so it seems that I’m on lock duty after all. Must look out my thermals …

Belle's Bletherings

Captain Ahab has suggested that I make a regular contribution to his blog. He seems to think that I can add a certain something. This I can. Whether it is what he has anticipated remains to be seen. You see am something of a reluctant boater whereas the Captain is a natural, almost born to it. However, it has been an obsession, *cough* I mean pastime, that he has been most keen to share.

I can honestly say that were it not for the Captain, I would probably never have stepped foot on a narrowboat. I spent part of my growing up intimately acquainted with the Grand Union Canal. In fact, I learned to dive in a lock. I know. I am lucky to have survived unscathed. My memory is of dirty smelly water and of my mother's shrieks and despairing wails. Not exactly the stuff of fond reminiscence. For years I prevaricated, delayed and even downright refused to be enticed on a boating holiday but eventually I caved. In his infinite wisdom, Mr Tesco added boating holidays onto his clubcard points scheme so I no longer had any excuse to avoid clambering aboard.

Our first outing was four days on the Kennett and Avon. We had just about every kind of weather imaginable. But I would be a hard woman indeed if, having watched the stress drop off the Captain as soon as he grasped the tiller, I refused a return trip. Truth be told, the teenagers enjoyed it, the Captain loved it and by the end of the four days I was contemplating changing my name to Saucy Sal, acquiring an anchor tattoo and running away to sea.

While I am not the obsessive enthusiast the Captain is, I do enjoy our trips. If only because it gives me opportunity to write taking a wry look at life and sending the Captain up in the process. After all, someone has to.

These weekly appearances will comprise of a collection of my observations from many different trips. They all hinge on the Captain's infallible wit and wisdom. Hanging on his every word as only a dutiful wife can, I intend to share the benefit of these pearls with you. May you all be richly blessed by them. First installment, next Monday. Enjoy!

An Introduction

Belle's Bletherings - a different perspective

2nd March 2009

Captain Ahab

Belle has an alternative take on this whole boating malarkey, and views the watery experience from a slightly different perspective. You could say that whilst we see things from the towpath, she sees things from the "other side of the cut".

Belle is rarely at a loss for words so I have suggested that she adds her own weekly contribution to the Watery Tales.