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)