When Christina Evans ordered a brand-new Sail-away from Collingwood Boat Builders of Liverpool, she expected an easy handover. “I thought ‘delivery included’ meant the boat would arrive at my garden mooring,” she laughs now.

But canal life in 2025 is rarely simple. Water shortages, breaches, and unexpected closures are part of the modern landscape.
“No problem,” she thought. “Hesford Marine is only 3.5 miles away - Collingwood can road-deliver and launch there.”

Unfortunately, that plan sank immediately: the New Year’s Day breach had closed the Bridgewater Canal, making that short route inaccessible. “Delivery included” now meant her 60-foot, flat-bottomed shell, christened Fried Pussycat, was left floating in Salthouse Dock, Liverpool.

Plan B seemed more promising: navigate home via the new canal link from Salthouse Dock, up the Leeds & Liverpool Canal, then loop round to the Bridgewater. But drought had other ideas. At the Leigh Arm, low water halted progress. A waterway once designed to carry coal and cotton in all weathers could no longer float a boat in summer - a stark sign of climate instability.

That left Plan C: a daunting open-water route from Salthouse Dock, through Brunswick Dock, out onto the tidal River Mersey, then inland again via Eastham Lock, the Manchester Ship Canal, and Pomona Lock. This passage was built for commercial ships, not canal shells.

“With this being the only option, I suddenly had to plan a sea passage - thirty miles of obstacles between me and home,” Christina recalls. “Where do I even start?”

She had no knowledge of tidal navigation, no experienced friends to call on, and no idea about the mountain of permissions, licences, and marine safety rules ahead. “Every single stage was a battle,” she says. “Unanswered emails, phones that only worked certain days - it felt like organising a military operation.”

On top of the red tape, every stage depended on weather and tides. If conditions on the Mersey weren’t right, nothing could move. Thankfully, the ladies at Liverpool Marina in Brunswick Dock schooled her in the mysteries of tides, currents, and high water.

Before departure, the boat had to be certified seaworthy - a tall order for a shell designed for canals. Surveyor John Pope bent over backwards, even coming out on a Bank Holiday Sunday. He declared Fried Pussycat Seaworthy on the understanding Christina obtained an anchor for the journey.

Christina scrambled to gather BWW keys, barge poles, and mandatory safety kit. With Liverpool Marina’s Bluepoint team, she secured an anchor - custom-built at the last minute.
Every authority involved - Canal & River Trust, Peel Ports, Bridgewater Canal Company, Liverpool Marina, Bluepoint, and Collingwood - warned her never to attempt the Mersey alone. So she found and enlisted world-renowned Mersey pilot Stuart Wood, who reshuffled his diary to guide her.

On 27th August, wearing her “She Believed She Could So She Did” jumper, Christina set off with friends Jon and Angie for moral support, and Stuart guiding the black and red Fried Pussycat.
The Mersey was merciless. “The empty shell bucked on the waves like a biscuit tin in a storm,” she remembers. But grit - and Stuart’s expertise - carried her safely to Eastham.

Once inside the Ship Canal, the challenges were far from over. At each enormous commercial lock, the surge of water tossed the wide beam about like a toy.

At Eastham Lock, the first entry point from the Mersey, Fried Pussycat was thrown against the walls as the lock filled, her flat bottom slamming into the swell.

On arrival at Ellesmere Port Basin (which closed the day prior - you guessed it - due to low water) Christina’s eldest son Vincent took the tiller through a long, wet Thursday.

Latchford Lock, was a breeze, smooth and pretty simple with the assistance of Peel Port engineers.

At Barton Lock the vast chambers dwarfed the boat. The turbulence from the gates opening rolled her side to side, forcing constant corrections on the tiller.

By the time she reached Irlam Lock, fatigue set in. The endless heaving swell in each cavernous lock tested her nerve as much as her balance.

Finally, at the Mode Wheel Lock near Salford, the last barrier before Pomona, the flood of water surged so violently that Fried Pussycat slammed from side to side, a final reminder of how unsuitable a canal shell is for such waters.

After enjoying the Salford Quays landscape Fried Pussycat reached Pomona on Friday. There, she briefly grounded on low water - another reminder of Britain’s fragile canals - before finally slipping through Pomona Lock into the Bridgewater. Ninety minutes later, Fried Pussycat nosed into Oldfield Quays, where bacon butties and family cheers turned an ordeal into a triumph.

What should have been a 3.5-mile hop had become a 3.5-day odyssey.

What began as a simple delivery had evolved into a modern canal epic, shaped by bureaucracy, climate pressures, and crumbling infrastructure. Christina’s journey is proof that global warming is not an abstract idea, but a force reshaping Britain’s waterways.

What began as a simple delivery had evolved into a modern canal epic, shaped by bureaucracy, climate pressures, and crumbling infrastructure. Christina’s journey is proof that global warming is not an abstract idea, but a force reshaping Britain’s waterways.

Against the odds, Christina’s persistence, problem-solving, and sheer determination carried her through. She arrived wearing her other jumper - this one declaring: “Christina: The Woman Who Can Do Everything.”

Only after surviving this gauntlet of locks could Christina and her crew breathe a sigh of relief as they re-entered the comparative calm of the Bridgewater Canal.

I am writing this on board Dawntreader with wind and rain lashing down like it had gone out of fashion in the last few months, water dripping in from somewhere and the BBC issuing storm warnings for this evening. After what was the best summer since 1976 and sadly, I had to miss most of it – more of that later - just deal with here and now as always.

• First job: remove all the bungee cords that make lowering the canopy down in the summer easy, and replace them with bolt rope – it's just a nautical term for rope below say 5 mm - or lashings if you prefer, but the idea is to strap that canopy down as tight as possible, bungees allow far to much movement which shakes the stitching to bits. I even use a rope on canopy supports that ties down to the engine bay in case wind gets under it and lifts it.
• Next get some 50 :50 waterproof PVA glue and water and squirt this around the hand rail fastenings, which have duly dried out leaving a nice gap for water to drip through screw holes, and of course the vents which are mounted on wooden circles. Plus anywhere else that one thinks could leak. The beauty with this trick is that rain will allow pva to creep into anything and eventually thicken up and set.
• A couple of springs running from fore deck to aft mooring post will stop or lessen surging which puts a huge strain on mooring lines and cleats – I've noticed so many boats don’t seem to do this and wonder why their lines pull out.
• Clean all sliding window gutters and the stupid so called drains that are supposed to let water out, although the drip strips I fitted ages ago help.

So the season started fantastically hot and dry, the Kennet and Avon almost resembling the Mediterranean !! But it soon became problematic, as water levels started to drop significantly.

The biggest issue was the outboard blocking with clay silt as the prop was almost screwing itself along the bottom. I have to use a long shaft engine as it needs to be below the hull depth (draught) to get enough water to stop cavitation ( where the prop spins in a vacuum and the bubbles eat chunks out of it ). Worse than that, it's now in the path of anything that may be lurking just below the surface, stirred up nicely by what ever has gone before me.

The answer was a prop guard, which I think all outboards ought to have as the only thing stopping your engine from exploding as it goes from 2000 rpm to zero in a fraction of a second is a 5mm pin designed hopefully to break if you do hit something ( shear pins ) but you only need to blow two or three of these on a trip to the pub to ruin an afternoon.

The next problem was the sheer heat inside, which made Burma look positively cool. Before I could really go anywhere, I was chucking buckets of canal water over the boat in an attempt to cool it down. On the bright side, my insulation must work as inside was at least 12 degrees warmer than out !! On the down side, though, things dried out to such an extent that the hatches in the floor of the cockpit shrunk and wouldn’t latch. At one point I even disconnected the solar panels, as battery lights were green almost continuously, even though I do have a regulator that in theory only allows a certain charge in... (Never trust gadgets they have an inbuilt sod it up function!)

When I was young sailing around the east coast, which is renowned for one thing - Mud !!!! proper thick goo that gets everywhere, I almost blew my outboard up. As the tide went out, I started stirring the mud up and of course being water cooled it could only go one place – straight up the cooling pipes where it started to coagulate nicely in the cylinder head waterways blocking everything! Sods law dictates that if it can go wrong it will, and at the most inopportune moment. And that’s exactly what happened to Dawntreader, stuck in the entrance to the marina with steam issuing out of her exhaust ( I really must fit a simple engine temperature gauge as no one looks back at their outboard to check cooling water) – mercifully the electric was rigged and we made it in – there being an excellent advert for electric propulsion. After a blast through with a hose pipe and after removing a gunked up thermostat, there was no real damage - but it could have been far worse.

So sadly, as water levels dropped even further and reports came in of canals being closed, the boat, like so many and perhaps what most are already, became a floating -just! static caravan. Still it was nice to sleep in the cockpit and look at stars and walk down to the canal side pub.

Autumn has made an early appearance this year and is eagerly showing off that bumper crop of fruits and berries, thanks to the Spring sunshine and dry Summer weather, for which the waterways weren’t so thankful!

The blackberries and elderberries generously gave us those juicy dark antioxidant rich fruits to add to our chutneys and jams, teas and syrups. Then those sweet wild plums for our crumbles, the sloes and damsons for more preserves, gins and vodkas. Now the pears, apples and crab apples are at their best, all high in pectin to help jam set.

I made blackberry vinegar this year, simply by steeping blackberries, just covered in apple cider vinegar for 5 days then straining the vinegar off and bottling, keeping the blackberries in a jar to use with salads. You can also make plum or damson vinegar.

Crab apples can usually be found along our hedgerows and although recommended to use after the first frost they are early this year. They pickle well and make a great “cheats marmalade” or fruit jelly. For fruit jellies there is very little preparation, no peeling or coring, just roughly chop and place in a pan, only just covering with water, gently bring to the boil and simmer for an hour, strain the juice through a t towel, it may take a while, then measure equal grams of sugar to mls of liquid, bring to the boil to reduce and reach setting point and jar in sterilised warm jars.

It's also the time of year for those wholesome and hearty soups and casseroles we all love, home baking with warming spices of cinnamon and ginger, and the celebrated pumpkin season. The squash family is most commonly known for butternut squash and those bright orange pumpkins, both equally versatile for any recipe calling for pumpkin or squash. Root vegetables are earthy and full of goodness, along with squashes and sweet potatoes they are perfect for slow cooking and roasting. Not forgetting the family of pulses, all those varieties of beans, lentils and chick peas marry perfectly with many spices to give us more versatile and heart-warming dishes.

Mushroom season is also upon us, hopefully more damp weather will help them along.
I’m sharing some delicious Autumn recipes with you, celebrating the wonderful fruit and vegetable season, but there are many more, along with some preserves recipes in previous Autumn editions which you can find by clicking at the bottom of the page, or follow me on my Canal Cuisine Facebook Page.

A whole butternut squash, cut into cubes (not necessary to peel) and tossed in a good quality vegetable oil with a couple of teaspoons of curry powder, then roasted in the oven will keep in the fridge to use in various recipes. It can even be enjoyed cold, with a salad of greens, seeds and blue cheese. The following three dishes can be created from one squash. Don’t forget to reserve those seeds, they are full of nutty nutrition, simply rinse, dry and toast in a pan with a little oil, they will keep in a jar for a few days.

ROAST PUMPKIN AND COCONUT SOUP

Roast the pumpkin or butternut squash cubes in the oven with a coating of oil and 1 tsp curry powder until cooked through and crispy on the outside, just under half a squash will do. Meanwhile gently fry 1 chopped onion, just until softened not browned, add 2 chopped garlic cloves, ½ tsp ground cumin, ½ tsp turmeric and a pinch of cinnamon. Add a tin of coconut milk and gently simmer for a few minutes. Allow to cool slightly before blitzing to a smooth consistency, add a little water if a thinner soup is preferred. Top with toasted seeds and a pinch of chilli flakes.

QUINOA, PUMPKIN AND PICKLED RED ONION SALAD

Cook the quinoa as per instruction. Be sure to rinse well in cold water before cooking, as with all grains and dried pulses. The rule of thumb is two parts water to one part grains, bring the water to boil, add the quinoa, stir, cover and leave for 20 mins.

For the red onion, finely slice 1 red onion and then gently boil with 4 tbsp white wine or cider vinegar, 4 tbsp water and pinch salt, allow to cool.

Fluff the quinoa up with a fork and add the spicy roasted pumpkin cubes, pickled red onion and freshly chopped mint, coriander or parsley.

Add some toasted chopped hazelnuts for extra texture.

This is delicious alone, with a flatbread and dip or an aromatic tagine dish.

CARROT FALAFEL WITH QUICK PICKLED RED ONION

For the falafel (makes 10)
100g carrots grated
1 tin chick peas well drained
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp cumin seeds
½ tsp ground coriander
½ tsp salt
1 tsp chilli flakes
Handful fresh coriander, mint or parsley
1 generous tbsp gram flour or cornflour

Blitz everything together, except the gram flour, in a mini chopper or food processor. Add the gram flour and firm together into small balls. Chill for at least half an hour before frying in a little oil, or roasting in the oven until crispy on the outside.
Enjoy with the red onion, flat breads, crisp salad and a humous or yoghurt dip.
Try a white bean and mango humous, by smashing some drained, tinned white beans and stirring in some mango chutney.

MOROCCAN CHICKEN AND SWEET POTATO CASSEROLE

This is an easy one pot recipe which can be used with either sweet potato, squash or chick peas, it’s entirely up to personal preference. Finish it with freshly torn mint or coriander and crumbled feta or natural yoghurt. Serve with couscous or flatbread.

4 boneless chicken thighs or breast fillets, cut into pieces
3 tbsp olive oil
2 onions,
1 roughly chopped,
1 sliced 2 tbsp tomato puree
3 garlic cloves
thumb size piece ginger, roughly chopped
1 tsp turmeric
1 tsp each ground cumin and coriander
¼ tsp each cinnamon and paprika
2 or 3 sweet potatoes, about 300g, peeled and cut into pieces
1 tin chopped tomatoes
400ml stock
2 tbsp brown sugar
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
100g sultanas

Season the chicken well and using a flameproof casserole pan fry in 2 tbsp of the oil, just to brown on all sides, lift out and place to one side. Whizz the chopped onion, ginger, garlic and tomato puree to form a paste. Add the remaining oil to the pan and fry the sliced onion until soft, then add the spices and fry for no more than 1 minute, add the paste and continue to fry for a few minutes. Return the chicken to the pan, along with the sweet potato, tinned tomatoes, stock, sugar and vinegar. Bring to a simmer and continue to cook for about 30 minutes or so, adding the sultanas towards the end.

SLOW COOKED PORK WITH APPLE AND SAGE DUMPLINGS

Delicious served with greens and apple mash. Gently soften a peeled and diced apple in a pan with a little butter for a few minutes, then add to the cooked drained potatoes to mash.
Most cuts of pork suit this recipe, shoulder or rib work well. Lean diced pork could also be used and will take less cooking time.
Approx 700g pork
1 tbsp plain flour
2 tbsp olive oil
1 carrot,
onion and leek, chopped
3 cloves garlic
2 to 3 potatoes,
about 400g 1 tbsp wholegrain mustard
500ml cider
400ml stock
1 apple, chopped into small pieces

Coat the meat with the flour and season well, using a large casserole dish, fry in the hot oil to sear all sides. Add all the other ingredients, cover and cook slowly, in the oven, or over the stove for about 1 ½ hours until the meat is tender. Add the dumplings for the last 20 minutes.

FOR THE DUMPLINGS

180g self-raising flour
2 tsp freshly chopped sage (or dried)
40g cold butter
100ml milk
pinch salt and pepper
1 medium apple diced

Rub the butter into the flour until breadcrumb consistency. Add the sage and apple and combine with a little cold water to bring together to form a sticky dough. Form into dumplings and nestle on top of the casserole, cook without the lid for the last 20 minutes.

POTATO AND CABBAGE CURRY – MY TAKE ON ALOO PALAK

Aloo Palak is an Indian style potato and spinach curry. I’ve swapped the spinach for cabbage and it works just as well. The use of a lot of oil adds to the richness and makes a great pilaf for the next day with any leftovers, topped with toasted almond flakes and fresh coriander.

100ml rapeseed oil
1tsp each black mustard seeds and cumin seeds
2 small onions, finely chopped
5 cloves garlic, crushed
2 thumb sized pieces of ginger, grated
½ tsp chilli flakes
1 tin tomatoes, chopped
1 heaped tsp each ground cumin and coriander
½ tsp each ground turmeric and chilli powder
1 tsp salt
Approx 400g (2 large) Maris Piper potatoes, peeled and cut into medium sized pieces
Approx 200g (half) cabbage, roughly chopped Generous
squeeze lemon juice to finish

Heat the oil in a large pan, add the mustard and cumin seeds and let sizzle for 1 minute. Add the onions and slowly cook until soft until soft and golden, about 5 minutes. Then add the garlic, ginger and chilli flakes, continue to cook for a couple more minutes. Stir in the spices, tomatoes and salt, cook for another few minutes. Add the potatoes and 200ml warm water, followed by the cabbage, cook with a lid over for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, remove the lid and cook on a low simmer for a further 10 to 15 minutes to reduce some of the liquid. Finish by stirring through a generous squeeze of lemon juice before serving with rice.

BAKED APPLES AND CUSTARD

This recipe is a combination of comfort food, sweet, fruity and warming with those Autumn spices, the orange zest and cranberry give it that extra special twist.

75g sachet of instant custard powder, made up to 400ml with half and half hot water and cold milk.
4 large Bramley apples
Zest of 1 large orange
50g dried cranberries
1 tsp ground allspice
½ tsp ground ginger
1 tbsp soft brown sugar mixed with pinch cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 160 fan and core the apples leaving a large enough hole at the top for the stuffing. Pour the custard in an ovenproof bowl and place the apples over it. Mix the orange zest, cranberries, allspice and ginger and push into the apple cavity, it doesn’t matter if any falls into the custard. Bake for about 20 minutes, then sprinkle with the sugar and cinnamon mix and return to the oven for a further 15 mins. Serve warm.

APPLE AND RAISIN COOKIES

Quick and easy to make, just 10 minutes in the oven and they are ready. The red skins of the apples add a lovely colour.

100g butter softened
100ml honey
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla essence
100g wholemeal or spelt flour
Pinch each of bicarb and cinnamon
40g raisins or sultanas
100g porridge oats
1 medium red apple, unpeeled, cored and chopped

Pre-heat the oven to 190 fan, grease and line a large baking tray. In a large bowl, cream together the butter, honey, egg and vanilla until smooth. Combine the flour, bicarb and cinnamon, carefully fold into the mixture, then add the raisins, oats and apples Drop the mixture by teaspoonfuls onto the baking tray and bake for 10 minutes. Allow to cool on the tray for a few minutes before transferring to a cooling rack.

COUNTRY APPLE CAKE A deliciously moist cake without butter.

5 eggs
200g granulated sugar
100ml vegetable oil
175g plain flour
2 tbsp cocoa powder
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp each cinnamon, mixed spice and ground ginger
5 eating apples peeled, cored and diced, about 400g
1 tsp each icing sugar and cinnamon for dusting

Heat the oven to 160 fan and grease and line a deep cake tin, if your tin is too shallow make a few muffins with the extra mixture (less cooking time). Beat the sugar and eggs really well for about 5 minutes until pale and fluffy, pour in the oil and combine. Sieve all the dry ingredients and carefully fold through the mixture to a smooth consistency, finally add the apples. Pour the mixture into the tin and bake for 45 – 50 minutes until firm to touch in the centre. Leave to cool slightly in the tin before turning out onto a cooling wire. Once cool, dust with the icing sugar and cinnamon mix. Enjoy eaten while still warm or cool.

Have a wonderful Autumn season and I’ll have more for you in December, if not before!

Hi - how you doing?
Welcome to this autumn edition of my Canals Online magazine column.
What’s that? How do I know that it’s autumn?
Pretty simple really.
No, it’s not the golden hues of the leaves which are gently tumbling to the ground and clogging up the drains.
Neither is it the noticeable change in temperature, drawing in of the nights or indeed the interminable drizzle.I know that it’s ‘fall’ as our cousins in Trumpton call it because the T.V. schedules are about to change. I was going to say, ‘for the better’, but let’s see how it goes first, eh?
No doubt there’ll be a succession of dark Scandinavia detective dramas, the soaps will go into overdrive and, oh yes, the usual procession of celebrity challenge shows.
Yes, celebrities who are famous purely for having appeared on a previous show such as, ‘I’m A Nonentity, Get Me Out Of Here’, ‘Britain Has No Talent, so we’ve trawled the Asian sub continent to see what dross they class as entertainment’ and the evergreen ‘Strictly What Is The Purpose Of Claudia Winkleman?’

So I had an idea.
Yes, dangerous I know, but hear me out.
With the success of shows such as ‘Canal Boat Diaries’ and the gentle cruising tales of Timothy West and dear old Pru, how about a canal themed game show? A celebrity version of course, purely to boost the ratings and to leave people such as me, well over the age of twenty five, wondering just who the hell these people are.

We could call it, ‘Celebrity Canal Cruise Challenge.’

I can visualise it now.

The winner of SAS, Who Dares Wins, in an ominously black narrowboat fabricated from steel plates welded at odd angles to give it a stealth quality is parachuted into the starting marina, swims a few hundred yards, throws a grappling iron over the stern, scrambles aboard and sets off in the wrong direction as soon as the starting cannon is fired. The producers obviously forgot that he failed the map reading challenge miserably.

Who’s this complaining bitterly that they’ve broken a fingernail trying to untie the mooring rope on the gaily painted vessel with the chintz curtains? It’s a former contestant from Rue Paul’s Drag Race. Obviously their start is now delayed whilst a suitably qualified nail technician is urgently sent for.

Also a non starter at the moment is a former runner up of ‘The Big Painting Challenge’, who has decided to freshen up the castle and roses which were rather inexpertly daubed on the stern cabin doors.

The competitors from ‘Race Across The World,’ haven’t arrived yet. They’re still trying to hitch a lift from Charnock Richard services to the start line.

Love Island entered a team, but their boat, for some strange reason, is rocking like it’s sailing through a hurricane although it’s not moving anywhere.

The contestant from ‘The Fortune Hotel’ has secretly swapped luggage with most of the other contestants and consequently his counterpart from ‘Naked Attraction’ has nowhere to conceal his modesty and is hiding inside the cabin. (Well, it is a bit cold).

Mastermind’s genius may be a wiz with the proclamations of Confucius and Brian Clough, but he’s a right numpty when it comes to a chemical toilet. Don’t go too close - it’s a bit smelly.

One who is underway (in the right direction) is the third placed singer from ‘The Voice.’ Apparently most viewers thought that the result was a fix and that she should have won. Consequently she took to the bottle and various medicinal compounds, so in a show of sympathy she was offered a place on this show on a boat which is now half sunk. For some reason best known to herself she removed the weed hatch (probably not fully understanding the reason for that name) whilst making her way to the first check point at the aptly named ‘Drunken Sailor’ public house.

Slightly in front is the winner of MasterChef, now firmly wedged across the canal after mistaking a slight gap in the vegetation on the bank for a winding hole and attempting to turn about. His soggy bottom is now firmly wedged in the silt.

Way out in front though is the woman who is famous purely for bonking a Premier League footballer who is extremely famous in his own right. Subsequently she’s been invited on every celebrity challenge show since. Asked about her current success in leading the field she put it down to, ‘years of practice trying to keep ahead of the paparazzi.'

Join us next time when a former MP who spent years making a pratt of himself in Parliament joins the cast to make a right pratt of himself on your telly; a t.v. presenter who no one likes is forced to eat a fisherman’s maggots after a viewers vote, and The World’s Strongest Man tows his cruiser along the towpath because he can’t figure out how to start the engine.

I think it’ll catch on, don’t you?

Engine House and Blossoms, Hawkesbury Junction, Coventry Canal–Double Exposure photography by Dawn S Art

Just this past spring, in April 2025, I joined my Dad on a couple of walks on the Coventry Canal. The 38-mile narrow canal in the Midlands, connects with the Trent and Mersey, Ashby, Birmingham and Fazeley, and Oxford Canals.

The first walk was from the outskirts of the city to the outskirts of Nuneaton Town Centre. I particularly remembered this walk for its interesting canal features such as the engine house at Hawkesbury Junction and seeing the Ashby Canal at the junction further on in the walk.

hawthorn blossoms Coventry Canal - photo by Dawn S Art

On our second walk. from Polesworth to Hopwas, I always remembered the abundance of blossoms. Seeing the myriads of hawthorn blossoms lining up the canal towpath. In the built up and urban areas, I was greeted aplenty of apple and cherry blossom and it reminded me of how much I love seeing spring in full bloom. Not to forget the stunning art murals at the Fazeley Junction!

Their last full day on the water continued the trend of the previous ones. A clear night sky giving way to a dawn with a hint of that first autumn frost which was ever closer. The smell of curry lingered in both cabins as their occupants slowly woke to the sun piercing any crack in the thin curtains. What could have been a sombre start was boosted by the bright morning though.

After a hearty breakfast Emily re-assembled the precious windlass that Amanda had rescued, carefully bending the split pin round in its groove. It was time to go. The process of starting the engine on the the Willow Wisp III was fairly simple, and Deborah reached under the small back deck to turn the petrol tap on. Having allowed time for the carburettor to fill, Emily turned the starting handle, once slowly, then a couple of times briskly, and the little Stuart was alive.

“Sounds sweet as a nut,” Ruby’s soft rural voice made the pair jump slightly.
As her late husband often did, she’d appeared as if from nowhere.
“I couldn’t let you go without some of me scones,” she added.
“Thanks,” Deborah smiled. “Its nice of you to come and see us.”
“Well, I were heading to get a bus into town so I thought I’d stop by and see this boat of yours,” Ruby replied.
“Why don’t we give you a lift,” Emily offered. “The buses here aren’t good, so it probably won’t take much longer.”

Seeing the sisters enthusiasm, Ruby let them help her aboard, sitting herself on one of the side lockers as they set about casting off. There were three or four locks to negotiate before the town, allowing the girls to show their “new” windlass off in action. Ruby could scarcely believe it had been underwater since it fell into the canal decades before Amanda inadvertently retrieved it along with her own. Shortly before the first lock Deborah steered close to the bank, allowing Emily to hop neatly onto the towpath with the new windlass tucked into the belt of her jeans for safe keeping. On arrival, she pushed the balance beam to open the gate ready for Deborah to pilot the little boat into the chamber, which she managed again without a single rub on either side.

“I can see I’m in good hands here,” Ruby smiled, as she stepped off onto the lock-side to observe the two girls working together.

With Mayfly also in the chamber, Jim assisted by closing the gate with Emily poised at the paddle on the lower gate. Within minutes they were under way again and, after more than forty years of underwater repose, the rescued windlass was again fulfilling the function it was made for. During the next pound Ruby, at the insistence of Deborah and Emily, steered the boat for a short while, telling the pair that this was the first time she had ever done such a thing. As a lengthman’s wife she was never as close to the canal as Lou, who had rarely been the steerer except on the occasional maintenance boat or ice breaker.

“You’re lucky to have her as number ones,” Ruby said, using the term as a compliment, a number one being the owner of a work boat rather than employee of a company, and certainly not anything to do with a pleasure craft, which this clearly was. The two girls looked wide eyed at the woman.

“She cost every penny we saved up, but she’s not really...”
“Anyone who owns a boat with a job of work to do on the cut is a number one,” Ruby said firmly. “Lou said that of your two friends when he met them, and he knew things the company bosses should’ve been learning off him. You said yourselves that you couldn’t see a day that you would be away from the cut and its folk.”
“We did,” Emily replied. “It got both of us when we first met Jim and Amanda. Before then it was just a holiday.”

“And your generation, not mine’ll see it live or die. The fire in your souls, young bodies and your sharp wits. Not some dull politician, that’ll make the future,” Ruby’s eyes sparked with enthusiasm, as she concentrated on steering along the deeper part of the canal. “Cruiseways!” she almost spat the word. “Them that know nothing named them that. You two may be young, but you know what sham is. If I know anything, you aren’t about for any neither. Even if the pair of you were born with silver spoons in your mouths.”

Emily and Deborah knew they were privileged and felt slightly ashamed that they could afford the little boat, however cheap it was. Ruby came to their rescue.
“You can’t help who you were born to,” she continued. “Young Amanda’s the same, only she had the spoon snatched from her. It’s what you do that makes what you become. Never forget that my dears. There’s plenty of your age that waste all they have on nothing, but here you are. And why? Because this is a real little boat.”
“She’s almost alive sometimes. The fibreglass ones are more like cars,” Deborah replied. “Maybe that’s being unkind.”
“It’s the truth,” Ruby was quick to speak. “With everything turned out by machines, what does that leave for skilled people. Keep at it and I can rest tonight knowin’ the cut’s safe.”

It seemed too soon that Ruby disembarked for the shopping trip, and the two boats continued on their way. The sisters were adamant to meet the noon reunion with their parents to the minute at the boatyard in the town. For now though, they were content just to watch the countryside go by.

“Do you think we’ll catch any crap for all this?” Emily laughed slightly less confidently than usual.
“We’ll cross that one when we get to it,” Deborah smiled. “Let’s just enjoy the moment. Remember what Ruby said.”

(This version ©2025 Michael Nye)

Eager to get started on our new adventure I was up and about by 7am, waking Joyce with a cup of tea. I had already completed my engine room checks; cooling system water and oil levels, checked in weed hatch for debris and had a general look around to make sure everything is as it should be. This would become a ritual that I did every morning before moving off, and as time went by other tasks were added as new situations occurred. By 9am we were ready to go, so I fired up the engine and we slipped our mooring and set off on our first cruise aboard Art Deco.

Over the previous few days I had looked many times at the route we would take up to Roydon, courtesy of the Nicholson map book, trying to envisage what problems we would encounter, but there was so much much information to digest, it was driving me mad. In the end I decided it was futile and not what this new lifestyle of ours was about; we were free agents with no time scale to follow and no pressure to be anywhere at any time; for the first time in our lives we could just please ourselves. With this in mind, all I thought about as we set off was that in one and a half miles we would encounter a lock and our first big test. I knew the theory of how they worked and had read about the correct way to pass through them, but had never done it before. It seemed simple enough, but would that translate into practice? Well we would soon find out, Lot Mead lock was fast approaching! We actually managed alright, it was a big help that we were on our own, with no other boats waiting, and no one watching as two rookie boaters negotiated their first lock. We were far from slick, but at least we didn’t hit anyone or anything, which was a bonus.

As the day passed and we successfully negotiated a few more locks our confidence grew and I found skippering the boat relatively easy. My previous boating experience had been limited to cruisers so I had never used a tiller, this was a new experience for me and I liked the feel of it. It was so tactile and responsive and I could feel the rudder as it moved in the water, very reassuring, I loved it!

As I settled into the cruise and relaxed, my attention turned to the engine, or more accurately the electrical system, and I was confused. No matter how many revs the counter showed, the readout from the batteries was showing a minus figure when in fact it should be a plus, and the figures should fluctuate as the revs changed, but they didn’t, all very strange, I would need to have a conversation with the engineer at some point in the near future.

We decided to call it a day around four in the afternoon and, with the help of another boat owner who came to our aid we tied up for the night, I was exhausted and Joyce was about the same. Pleased with the first day of our new lives we cooked a meal and celebrated with a bottle of Champagne, one we had bought to break over Art Deco as she was launched. It was such a hectic day and Joyce wasn’t there for the launch so we didn’t get the chance to have an official ceremony, fitting actually as it reflected all the problems we had encountered on the build. Never the less we toasted ourselves for the resilience we had shown and looked forward to our future.

We were early to bed that night but the following morning I was awakened by a loud crash coming from the saloon. I dashed next door to find the bottom drawer of our air units on the floor, and what’s more the whole boat was leaning slightly to one side. After a minute it dawned on me what had happened. I had been told by the boater who helped us to moor the previous evening that there was a shelf under the water, but I didn’t get the significance of it at the time. What had happened was that the water level had dropped overnight and when the lock downstream had been opened by the first boat through that morning it had dropped a little more and Art Deco had snagged on the shelf, resulting in the lean. I quickly roused Joyce from her sleep and together we loosened the mooring ropes and with the help of the engine we managed to free the boat. Only the second morning into our first cruise and already we had experienced some drama. Over time we would come to realise that drastic events and situations such as this were common place, all part of the wonderful life as a live aboard boater.

We had settled easily into our new life, but one thing was becoming increasingly obvious to me and that was just how unprepared I was for living aboard a boat. I had spent many hours researching all the technical aspects whilst designing the boat (don’t mention toilets to Joyce, talk of them nearly scuppered the project before it started) but no time had I given to the day to day requirements. Having no mooring stakes on the first day is just one example of the many things I had given no thought to whatsoever, I had been so focused on the boat itself. It all came to a head on the third day. We had reached the point where we would leave the Grand Union Canal behind and make a left turn onto the Paddington Arm. I had seen in the Nicholson that there was a water point there and knew we must be getting low, remembering our holidays on the Norfolk Broads. We tied up by the point only to find just a tap with no hose attached and I was having a good old rant about thieving b**tards when another boat pulled in behind us. He must have heard me because he came over with a hosepipe under his arm, looked at me with a smile on his face and said, I think you need one of these. It was only after talking to him that I learned that every boat had its own hosepipe, to say I was embarrassed is an understatement but as the saying goes; every day is a school day.

Onto the Paddington arm, a section with no locks to work, but one big obstacle, the ‘Maida Tunnel’. At 249 metres long and dead straight it should pose no problem, or so I thought, as we passed through the delightful Little Venice. As we approached the tunnel entrance it looked extremely low and narrow. I could see no other craft coming in the opposite direction so I lined Art Deco up and made straight for the entrance. As we approached I turned on the bow light and could see the slimy walls on either side with the low arched roof and realised it was going to be very tight, especially so because of our ballast problem. We cautiously entered the tunnel and it was tight, we had around a 10 centimetres gap between the edge of the boat roof and the tunnel sides, I would need to keep a straight line and the concentration needed was immense, but we managed it with just a few scrapes to the paintwork.

I was glad to be through, but knew that up ahead we would shortly join the Regents canal, a very busy section I had read, with many moored boats, a good few locks and another tunnel. By all accounts it is an interesting and pleasant stretch, skirting round Regents park, passing by Primrose Hill and through Camden Town before entering the Islington Tunnel. At 878 metres long it is longer than the Maida Tunnel and consequently has a traffic light system allowing only one boat at a time to pass through. We knew what to expect this time and although it was just as tight as the Maida Tunnel it wasn’t quite as stressful and we managed with just a few scrapes. The paintwork would need a little TLC though, another job to add to the list when we reached Roydon.

The scenery didn’t disappoint and the three locks at Camden Town were especially vibrant. It was a Saturday when we passed through, one of those early spring days when you just want to be outdoors enjoying the sunshine after the long dreary winter. Every one was very friendly, so much so that it took us a good hour to pass through the three locks, people of all ages were interested, asking many questions about life aboard a boat, the main one being: is it cold in winter? The answer was, we didn’t know, we had that experience to look forward to.

Blog written on 5th June 2014

Finally, on Wednesday 28th May, we set off on our epic cruise down to Roydon. We had put 5cwt of concrete blocks into the front of the boat on the Tuesday; it had little effect but we decided to set of anyway and face the consequences. We had great trepidation at the thought of the thirty-six locks we had to go through to get to Roydon but surprisingly we soon got the hang of them and the first two days were okay, but as we approached London things went steadily downhill. The canal got narrower, the bridges and locks got tighter and moored boats on both sides were ever more present. Saturday 31st May was an epic day. We had spent Friday evening moored up by Kensal Green Cemetery, the resting place of the great Isambard Kingdom Brunel, one of my heroes. An early start on Saturday soon saw us entering Little Venice, a fantastic site but very busy with hundreds of boats of all shapes and sizes and all going in different directions, it was a nightmare trying to negotiate a sixty foot by twelve foot boat through, but we somehow managed it without an accidents. We turned a corner and there in front of us was the Maida Vale tunnel, a tiny half circle of stone in a shear cliff and as we got nearer I realised that it would be tight, very tight, and it was. There was no more than 10cm clearance at either side and it was impossible to steer a straight line. Unfortunately I hit the tunnel in a couple of places, but we were soon out, so not too bad, we thought, that is until we came into Camden, what a sight greeted us. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and all the bars and cafes were packed and the canal side was heaving with people enjoying a drink, ready to watch a couple of novices negotiate the three locks that forms the centre of this vibrant area. We actually did okay and Joyce enjoyed the craic while I did all the manual work and steered the boat through, taking over an hour to get through the three locks. Relief was short lived as soon we approached the Islington tunnel, longer than the last one but hoping that it would not be as tight, but it was. I have never in my life had to concentrate so much as I did in the half mile going through that tunnel, but even then I hit in a couple of places, so a touch up job will be needed in the future. Sunday saw us out of central London and soon we were on to the Lee Navigation, the river that would take us most of the way to Roydon.

We were approaching the point on the Regents canal where we would make a left turn onto the Hertford Union canal, commonly known as ‘Ducketts’, and named after the man who first proposed it’s building. At just over a mile long with three locks, it runs along side the beautiful Victoria Park before it joins the river Lea Navigation. There were lots of moored boats and many looked like live aboard craft. It was obviously a very popular place and although we didn’t realise it at the time, in the coming months we would get to know it very well and would spend many enjoyable times in and around the area. We passed through the aptly named, Top lock, Middle lock and Bottom lock and with the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park directly in front of us, we turned left onto the Lea Navigation. I suddenly had a strange sensation of space. We had been in the confines of a canal waterway since our launch at Watford and to emerge on to a relatively wide river was quite unnerving at first. Even Art Deco seemed to give a sigh of relief, thankful to be out of the claustrophobic environment of an urban canal and on to a wide section of water at last. It had taken us a couple of weeks to get to this point, admittedly we had been taking our time and getting used to our new lifestyle but it felt that we were near to closing the first chapter of our adventure. We found a place around Walthamstow Marshes to moor for the night and slept like babies, knowing that we were on the last leg of our journey and that with luck, in two or three days time, we would reach Roydon marina, our final destination.

The next morning we set off again. The river had a very different feel to the canal, there was a current, and we were going against it. Although it was not strong I could certainly feel it and had to increase the revs on the engine to keep up a decent speed. I assume it would get stronger after a few hours of rain, something no doubt we would experience in the near future, given the usual weather we have in the summer. There were boats moored on either side of the river, sometimes two and three abreast and the majority of them had all sorts of flotsam and jetsam aboard, from bicycles to literally the kitchen sink! It was obvious to us that many were residential boats, peoples homes, given the amount of firewood stacked on and around the craft and the numerous pots of flowers and vegetables of all shapes and sizes. Some were so dilapidated and stacked full of junk that we thought that they must be abandoned, until we glimpsed a face at a window or a smoking chimney.

At Tottenham lock we were in for a treat, it was mechanised, no labouring at this one, but isn’t it strange, all the time we had been manhandling the locks, winding up paddles, heaving open heavy lock gates, we had been left to our own devices. But at Tottenham and again at Stonebridge, another mechanised lock, there were other people around, very happy to press buttons and work the locks for us, funny that.

There was a water point at Stonebridge lock so we stopped to fill up (We had our own hosepipe now!) and I needed to check in the weed hatch; the engine seemed to be labouring and I guessed that the prop may be fouled. Checking the weed hatch was part of my ritual before we set off each day and it was free of debris this morning, but on occasions I had had to stop en-route to clear it. The culprit was usually a plastic bag, but this time I had a feeling it was something a little more substantial and I was not wrong. When I opened the hatch there was a mass of fabric wound around the prop and as I cut and pulled it just kept on coming until I had what looked like an old duvet on the engine room floor, and a double one at that! How the engine had not overheated I don’t know, but it was fortunate that I checked it when I did otherwise it could have caused a major problem.

We had noticed as we cruised up river away from central London, that around each lock there were small groups of boats moored that looked like they had a more bohemian feel to them with lots of people on the bank side out enjoying themselves and at Stonebridge there was even a barbecue in full swing, it seemed like a thriving community. Most of the people appeared to be young, although there were a few older folk who seemed to fit into that way of life quite well and everybody looked to be having a great time.

The problem with the fouled prop had delayed us and as it was getting late in the day we decided that after the next lock we would moor up for the night. According to Nicholson, Pickets lock was not mechanised but it didn’t bother us, we had worked enough manual locks now to know what to expect, the last one of the day would be no problem, or so we thought. We should have realised as we struggled to open the large metal gates that we might have a problem, but tiredness and complacency can affect your judgment, it certainly did for us that evening. It required both of us to open the gates as they were much heavier than the normal wooden ones, but once we had them open I climbed aboard Art Deco and brought her into the lock and then climbed on to the lock side, secured the stern rope to a bollard and went to help Joyce close the gates. We closed the tail paddles and Joyce took hold of the stern rope while I took the bow rope, secured it to a bollard and went to open the head paddles to fill the lock. We had done this many times and it was our preferred method, I’m sure other boaters have their own way, but this worked for us. With everything in place I went to open the first paddle and the lock started to slowly fill. As I opened the second a torrent of water serged through, throwing Joyce off balance and she struggled to control Art Deco as the force of the water hit the bow. Fortunately a gentleman who was close by saw the problem and rushed to help her averting what could have been a serious problem. We later found out that the paddles on this particular lock are extra large because the lock is so long and deep and we were not the first boaters to fall foul to it. It was fortunate for us that we were travelling up stream and filling the lock. Had we been traveling down stream the lock would empty very quickly and the stern could have caught on the lock cill, resulting in the boat tipping forward and water pouring into the bow and sinking her. We heard later that this had happened a few times at this lock, so whenever we passed through we were always extra diligent.

We were up and off early the next morning. We seemed to be following the old proverb: early to bed, early to rise, or had our body clocks changed to follow a more natural form, sleeping when it gets dark in the evenings, waking when it gets light in the mornings and spending time outdoors in between. Whichever it was, it was working for us, the stresses and strains of our previous life were well and truly behind us, reward we told ourselves for all the problems we had endured during the boat build. The next lock, Ponders End, was another large, deep lock but this time we knew what to do. We opened each paddle a little at a time, alternating, one after the other and let the water in slowly, it took a long time to fill but it caused no problems.

We had to get use to life on the river, everything moves at such a slow pace. I had a conversation with an old chap at one of the locks about life on the river. He had lived on a boat for over forty years and he gave me this advice. Imagine how long you think it will take to do a task or get to a particular place, halve it and add the two together, that's how long it should take. He said a similar thing about speed, think how fast you should be going, into a lock for example and halve it, that should be your speed. Wise words indeed and they served us well, we had no accidents whatsoever in all our boating years.

As we approached Enfield lock a boat was just about to come out, he must have seen us coming because he left the gates open and waved us in. When we entered I knew we had a problem: the lock was deep, with massive metal gates which I knew Joyce wouldn’t be able to open. After the drama at Pickets lock we had decided that I would stay on the boat to keep it under control and Joyce would work the lock, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to climb the slippery metal ladder that led to the lock side. Luckily, just as we entered the lock a boat crew arrived from the opposite direction and started to work the lock for us and to my huge relief they told us both to stay on board. It was our first encounter with the wonderful river community that we had joined.

Exiting Enfield lock is like traveling through a portal, suddenly we are surrounded by nature, gone are the factories, warehouses and pylons that have been our companions for the last few days. We are amongst green fields and hedgerows, without a pylon in sight! The first town we come to is Waltham Abby, it looks a decent place and we find a mooring, so decide to stop for lunch, have a look around and take on supplies, we are running low on beer! It is a lovely old town with some fine buildings, including of course the Abbey and it still has its market square full of traders, and is bustling today as we pass through. Back on Art Deco we decide that as we have such a pleasant mooring we will have a leisurely afternoon and evening and carry on our journey tomorrow. After our evening meal we take a walk down the tow path to survey our next obstacle, a lock of course, and on our way back as the light begins to fade a large white owl swoops past us, a good omen we hope for tomorrow, because with a bit of luck we may make it to Roydon, but we are not in a race, what will be will be.

An early start again, we want to get to Roydon today and there are eight locks in our way, it's going to be a challenge. The locks on the river are not as easy to work as the ones on the canal, the gates are much larger and very hard to open and close. This is slowing our progress because we have to moor Art Deco before each lock so that both of us can disembark to open and close the gates. Nevertheless we make good progress, helped by the fact that there’s little traffic on the river and by lunch time we are at Fielder’s weir where we pass a lovely riverside pub, the Fish and Eels, and note it for future reference. Not far past the pub we turn onto the river Stort and the final leg our journey. The Stort is far narrower than the Lea, with lots more bends to it, Art Deco looks out of proportion, far too large a craft for such a small river and I am praying we get to the marina soon or we will run out of water! My prayers are soon answered when we spot a large board directing us to the left and into a small lock with the marina just beyond. We had made it!

We know exactly where our mooring is located as we had visited the marina whilst the boat was being built and we still had a car, but I was nervous. All craft had to be moored stern on and that was a manoeuvre I had not yet attempted. It would be compounded by the fact that the bow thrusters were out of the water due to the ballast problem and would be useless, the only steering I had was the rudder and that only works when going forward. Our mooring was between two boats, just wide enough for Art Deco to fit, and with much difficulty and many attempts we managed it with help from the boaters on either side and folks on the pontoon.

We had been running on adrenalin and mugs of tea for seven days, along with the occasional beer, my body ached from head to toe and I was black and blue and had extensive scratches all over my arms and a cut on my nose from where the lock windless slipped in my hand while winding down the paddles, some semi-retirement this was turning out to be! We were looking forward to relaxing after our final, arduous day but just as we had finished tying up a cheery voice called out “permission to come aboard”. I turned around to find a total stranger standing there holding what looked like a small dish under his arm. He introduced himself as Martin, the guy who is supplying the satellite TV equipment for the boat. Apparently he was in the area and although we had arranged that I would call him when we were in the marina he thought he would have a quick look to familiarise himself with the place, not expecting us to be there. He insisted on setting up the system, saying it was a simple job and wouldn’t take long to do, so we agreed and put the kettle on as he got to work.

Joyce and myself were winding down with a mug of tea when Martin joined us with a worried look on his face. “We have a problem” he says, the cabling is all wrong. He had previously explained in detail on one of our many telephone conversations how the cabling was to be done for the system he would be installing. I had passed this on to the boat builders, but it seems they had either forgotten, or more likely ignored this and installed the cables as they normally did, ignoring the fact that we wanted cabling for three satellite televisions. The ‘simple’ installation took around three hours to complete and by the time Martin had finished it was dark and we were exhausted. He had managed to get all three TV’s working but because there was only one set of cabling installed, all three sets would only show the program that the main set in the saloon was tuned to. We thought this would not be a problem, the televisions were there for the guests, they could choose what they wanted to watch, they just had to make sure the saloon set was tuned to the correct station before they went into their bedroom cabin. The irony of the whole saga is that the TV in our cabin was not used, we hadn’t watch TV in bed when we were land bound, and that continued the whole time we lived on Art Deco, there were so much more interesting things to see and do.

We slept like babies that night and woke up late to a lovely early summer day. We ate breakfast on the back deck of the boat and chatted to fellow boaters who came by to welcome us to the Roydon marina community. All was looking good and our dream was finally becoming reality, but there was big black cloud on the horizon; I had to sort out the electrical system and get familiar with the hybrid side of things. Graham, the engineer from the manufactures should have commissioned the engine before we left Watford but as I mentioned earlier he broke his ankle and was immobile. I needed to call him to arrange a visit so I asked Joyce to make a cup of tea while I spoke to him. I was just dialling the number when I heard the words that I had come to dread: “Dave we have a problem”. As Joyce turned on the electric kettle she heard a loud click and all the appliances went dead. The digits on the battery monitoring system were all flashing zero and and when I opened the cupboard where the inverter was housed there were red lights flashing. I started the engine but it made no difference, the batteries were completely flat. I won’t bore you with the details of my conversation with Graham, lets just say it wasn’t pleasant and contained many swear words, but in the short term I was told to hook up to shore power. We had mains power supply at the mooring, but no cable to connect it to the boat, just another one of my failings regarding the practical side of living on a boat. I went to the marina chandler’s, but they didn’t have any in stock and said there was a camping supplies store in Harlow where I could get one. Again I won’t bore you, but after 2 hours, a train journey there and back and around 2 miles walk I finally had a cable. I hooked up and the electrics came to life, and strangely, there was a ‘hum’ coming from the inverter, a sound that I had not heard before. Later I would find out that the ‘hum’ was in fact a cooling fan that engaged whenever the inverter was working. It was obvious to me why the batteries were flat, the had not been charging at all. On the positive side, Graham agreed to come down in two days time, when he assured me that he would sort out all the problems and explain exactly how the hybrid system functioned and what maintenance it would need. I felt much better and less stressed knowing the fact that I would know how the electrics worked and more importantly how to fix them should a problem occur.

The next couple of days were spent relaxing and settling into life on the boat. We had been so busy with the journey that we hadn’t really had time to appreciate the boating lifestyle. Hopefully now we could slow down and start to live life as we had imagined when we first conceived our future on the water. A few days later as promised, Graham arrived early one morning and got straight down to work. I had kept him informed about all the problems we had encountered and he said he was pretty sure he knew the cause, although he wouldn’t tell me over the phone. I got the impression that he didn’t want anyone playing with his hybrid baby. I have a basic knowledge of mechanics from helping my dad fix and service his car, so I knew my way around an engine but the problem was with the hybrid adaption, something I had no knowledge of at all. I had expected him to go straight down into the engine room but instead he dismantle the steps that led from the rear deck to the kitchen. As he removed them and then an inspection panel, the rear part of the hybrid was revealed and I immediately saw the problem. There was a large pulley wheel, with a smaller one at its side, but no belt between them, it was lying on the engine room floor. A new belt was soon fitted and the steps replaced but I had so many questions that needed answering. We sat down with a mug of tea and Graham explained that the large pulley was attached to the flywheel of the Beta diesel engine and the small one to the 48volt alternator and with the belt missing there was no charge going into the twenty four 2 volt batteries. My next question was; what caused the belt to fail? This was more difficult for him to answer, all he could say was that the engine with the hybrid adaption was one unit and had been fully tested before it left his workshop. The belt was not worn or broken and he thought that the tension had become slack and the belt had somehow worked itself off the pulley. The fitters had no cause to do anything with the engine, it went in place as one unit, so it was a mystery as to how the belt had become loose. I was not happy with his explanation but had to accept it, only time would tell if it was true. Graham then gave me a crash course on the operation and maintenance of the whole system followed by a cruise on the river to show me how to engage the electric drive and how to interpret all the dials and read outs. There was a lot to take in but it was all logical and straightforward and as we returned to the marina I was a happy man knowing I had a good working knowledge of the hybrid engine and understood the electrics a little better.

Next on the list of people to contact was the boat builder to solve the blast problem and there were other little ‘snags’ to fix too. We had been so eager to get away that towards the end that jobs were rushed and corners cut, but now they needed sorting. I could write a whole page and probably more around this episode but let's gloss over it, and just say it was painful at the time but everything was eventually fixed.

Last entry on the blog

We have been at Roydon now for six weeks and finally have a fully functioning boat! The engineer came a couple of weeks ago and spent a day sorting out the engine and charging system, apparently a drive belt had come off due to the adjusting bolt on the generator working loose, we have our suspicions who the culprit is, but that would be telling! Graham, the engineer was a star and sorted everything out and went above and beyond the call of duty, the upshot being I now know my way around all the systems. After many false starts and promises, the boat builders finally came down this week with bits and pieces to finish off the fit out and most importantly re-ballasted the boat which involved taking up part of the floor in the saloon, so not a quick job, but the outcome was worth it, we no longer have to bail out the wet room when we have a shower. In fact they did a grand job and the boat is now resplendent in all its glory! We have the fire and the fold up table in place, both bedrooms carpeted and the kitchen splash backs fitted so we have been keeping ourselves busy. After all the trials and tribulations of the last twelve months we feel we can finally move on. We constantly congratulate, ourselves on our decision to move south, the weather being glorious virtually every day since we arrived here and although it is a very rural area we are only forty minutes from central London and one hour from Cambridge on the train. We are enjoying this new lifestyle, no car, no stress and no more trips to the supermarket, order on line and it is delivered direct to our boat, what a result.

The boat performs really well as a living space and we have adapted well to this new lifestyle, it is very different from the conventional but we love it. We had family stay with us for three days a couple of weeks ago and it worked really well even though the boat was not perfect, my sister bailing out the wet room after a shower will stay with me for the rest of my life, it was really funny but all done in the best possible taste! Joyce is really happy with the kitchen, which pleased me no end, we had many a disagreement regarding this room when planning the layout, it was easy for her to cook for four people, so bodes well when we take on paying guests. We had our first trip out whilst my sister and brother in law were with us, down the river Stort and on to the Lee navigation for a couple of miles to the wonderful Fish & Eels pub where we had lunch and a few drinks, what a great life this is. On a more serious note it became evident on the journey from Watford that taking guests into central London on a regular basis was not an option, too many locks and those two bloody tunnels. We have revised our immediate plans and are just planning to offer B&B based at our marina here at Roydon with trips into the Lee Valley Country Park, with all it’s leisure facilities and to the local towns and pubs. It is a beautiful area and we feel a cruise into the countryside, taking in a local pub and village will be attractive enough for most people. Our long term plan is to base ourselves on the River Thames and cruise the waters between Oxford and the city, not based in a marina but as the official term says “continuous cruising”, but that is all in the future. Art Deco is now officially open for friends and family, so if anyone fancies a couple of days here in sunny Roydon……

With the mechanical, technical and other problems solved and the electrics functioning as they should, we both relaxed and started enjoying our new life. We got to know our neighbours and were welcomed into the boating community, meeting new people, some of whom became good friends.

In my next edition I will write about life in the marina aboard Art Deco, the places we visited and the characters we met.