There was one problem that we needed to overcome before we could cruise the Thames: we needed a licence from the Environment Agency, the government department responsible for policing the non-tidal Thames. The problem was that once we had submitted the application on line, the licence would be posted out to us, but our postal address was back in Sheffield, one hundred and fifty miles away. I called them and explained our dilemma and surprisingly, for a government department, they were extremely helpful and said they would send the licence to the lock keeper at Teddington, marked for the attention of Art Deco and we could pick it up as we passed through.

With that little problem sorted we headed down the Lea navigation, re-tracing the journey we had made over a year ago on our way to Roydon and on towards the Olympic park, an area we were fond of and had come to know well. Around Hackney Wick, just before Old Ford lock, a turn to the right would take us on to the Hertford Union Canal, (known as Ducketts) and past Victoria park to its end at the junction with the Regents canal. There is a cast iron foot bridge over the canal at the junction and the canal narrows considerably, making the turn to the right extremely difficult. For a craft the size of Art Deco it’s impossible to make it in one go and requires a lot of forward and reverse to get her round. The Regents Canal has its challenges, as we know from our previous journey, but fore warned is fore armed and this time we were prepared for the Islington and Maida tunnels.

Safely through the two obstacles, we arrive in the wonderful Little Venice, where surprise, surprise, we find a mooring spot, so we take advantage of our good luck and spend a couple of nights there as previously we’ve never been able to get a mooring. We can’t linger too long though as our CRT licence expires at the end of the month so it’s onwards and upwards, as they say. We have a long stretch now before we meet the Grand Union canal around Hayes where we turn to the left and head towards Brentford, our entry point on to the river Thames. We are entering into unchartered territory now as we have not cruised this stretch of canal before, so it should make the journey more interesting.

According to the Nicolson Guide we have the Hanwell flight of six locks to negotiate and as we approach the first one someone begins to open the gates for us. It’s getting late in the day and we had planned to wait until the morning before we tackled them so I shout to him and he ceases his task and walks over and helps us moor up. He’s a CRT volunteer and we offer him a coffee, which he gladly accepts, but I have an ulterior motive, a little local knowledge I think is always handy. His advice is invaluable and he explains that due to repeated vandalism the lock is usually manned all the time and is locked when they leave at 4pm. He advises us to get into Brentford as early as possible because although there are good visitor moorings near the town centre they do fill up quickly. He tells us that the volunteers will be back at 10am in the morning which seems a good time to start as there are still three more locks after these six before we reach Brentford.

We are ready for the off when two CRT volunteers arrive at the lock around 10am and one of them asks if we are going down the whole flight. When I tell him that’s our plan he replies, oh good, we like an early workout first thing in the morning and we don’t know if he’s telling the truth or simply being ironic. Due credit to them though, they get on their bikes and proceed to work the locks as we travel down the flight and what we thought would be a very tough morning turns out to be very pleasant one.

We pass a place called Three Bridges, a rare intersection of canal, road and railway with the three bridges stacked on top of one another like children’s building blocks. At lock 94 the volunteer explains that the large building on the canal side used to be a lunatic asylum. Back in the day that was the name given to what we now call a secure hospital. He points out an unusual feature, a series of purpose built holes in the wall where the firemen put their hose, included because the inmates were constantly setting fire to the building! There’s even a bricked up portico leading from the canal for goods and inmates to be delivered directly into the facility. Ealing hospital has taken over the site but the section near the canal is still a secure unit and boasts it’s own farm, brewery and bakery.

The volunteers leave us at the bottom of the flight and we thank them for helping us negotiate the flight, leaving us with just three more locks to go before we reach Brentford. The next lock, Osterley, needs a BW key to open two of the four paddles and I didn’t realise so I had to go and find it and after we are through I keep hold of it, needless to say at the next lock Clitheroe’s, it’s not required. Never mind. We finally make it into Brentford dock and on first sight, it doesn’t look as though there are any free moorings, but a guy on a moored boat shouts over to us and directs us to a fourteen day leisure mooring, complete with a water point near by. What a day it turned out too be! The gods must have been smiling down on us, not only did we have help with the Hanwell locks but we’ve filled up with water and managed to get a fourteen day mooring in Brentford marina. It’s the little things in life that count!

Once we are moored we take a walk around the marina and agree that it’s very similar to Limehouse Basin, both are small tranquil havens amongst the hustle and bustle of a modern city. We come upon the marina office and chat to the lock keeper about the Thames and our passage on to it. We only need to book a time slot twenty four hours in advance, he tells us and as we still have two weeks left on our CRT licence we can relax and spend a few days here. Kew Gardens are just a short walk away, across the river so we will certainly spend a day there and from Brentford rail station we can get a train direct to Waterloo and spend some time in central London.

We meet the guy who pointed out the mooring as we are returning to Art Deco and he invites us on to his boat for a coffee, he has something unusual to show us he says, how can we refuse an invitation like that? We descend the rear steps into the main cabin and immediately see why he was so keen for us to come aboard, for dominating the space is a piano, now that’s something you don’t see every day on a canal boat! Ok his boat is a ‘mini wide beam craft at ten foot wide and the piano is an upright one, but even so it’s still surprising. He’s a northern lad from Manchester and has lived on his boat for the last ten years and moves every fourteen days to keep within the CRT regulations. He knows the area like the back of his hand and we spend a pleasant few hours with him as he passes on his knowledge. He knows the best local pubs too and we agree to meet him tomorrow lunch time for a few pints. Back on Art Deco, enjoying a glass of wine in the evening, we reflect on the day and how lucky we’ve been and hope that it’s a portent of what’s to come in the future.

We did take advantage of the full fourteen day mooring and enjoyed exploring the local area and discovered two museums in Brentford, the Musical Museum and the London Museum of Water and Steam. Guess which one we visited? It’s no contest, steam wins every time for me. We visited central London a couple of times and enjoyed a day exploring Kew Gardens too, so we certainly got our money's worth out of the mooring. We thoroughly enjoyed our time in the marina but it was time to move on, the river Thames was calling!

It was a bright and sunny spring day when we left the comfort of the marina and made the short cruise down to the Thames lock reaching it at 10.20, over an hour early but there was already a narrow boat waiting. Chatting, as we waited, we learn that the couple live in Berkhamsted and are planning to cruise up to Oxford. They have two boats but they haven’t taken this one on the Thames before and are a little apprehensive because it’s so low in the water. Looking at it, I think that I’d be uneasy too. They tell us they have seen our boat in Berkhamsted. We seem to be very memorable: everyone it seems remembers Art Deco, a case of once seen, never forgotten. They tell us that getting diesel on the Thames can be a problem because many of the marinas are gated and not open to the general public. There is a small marina at Reading which they use, just below Caversham lock with easy access from the river and I make a mental note. We were due to leave the lock at 11.30 but we don’t leave until 11.45am, apparently due to the tide, which seems like a lame excuse to me as tides can be predicted years in advance. Another narrowboat has joined us and they go into the lock before us and sit alongside our new friends and we follow them in. The lock is massive and our little convoy looks lost in the vast space but all goes well and we are cruising the Thames by midday.

The wide expanse of the river spreads out before us and looks quite daunting after the confined waters of the canal, but the going is easy and we are helped along by the incoming tide. We have cruised on rivers before, the Lea and Stort but they are little more than drains compared with the tidal Thames. When you think about the tide you associate it with the sea but the coast is miles away, yet the tide still has an effect on the river at this point. We are actually travelling up river, going against the natural flow but it doesn’t feel like that because the incoming tide is more powerful than the natural flow and in fact overcomes it and pushes us along. It’s also the sheer width of the river that’s the problem for me, I’m not use to being so far from dry land! But it’s strange how quickly you adjust to the different conditions and surroundings and soon our anxiety turns to enjoyment as we settle in.

We pass Kew Gardens and Syon House, the seat of the Duke of Northumberland and I have read that this stretch of river, between Kew and Hampton Court is called The Arcadian Thames because of its unique landscape, richly ornamented buildings and designed parkland. We cruise under Twickenham bridge and we are looking out for Richmond lock but we don’t need to use it because it’s only used at low water. Richmond lives up to its name, definitely top end real estate here and this is the theme of our cruise and you would expect no more from the most important river in the country. We have been cruising the river for a little over an hour when we see Teddington lock in the distance, the tidal lock. Once through the lock we are on the non-tidal section, the lock acting as a barrier to the ebb and flow of the tide. We have been following the two narrow boats that we shared Brentford lock with and enter Teddington lock in the same formation, the two narrow boats side by side and Art Deco behind them. They take off up river when the lock gates open but the keeper calls out, I’ve been expecting you, but your licence hasn’t turned up yet. Moor up at the end of the pontoon on the visitor moorings, he tells me and when you're ready come and see me and we’ll sort you out.

When we’re securely tied up I walk down to the lock and find the keeper in the hut, filling out paper work. He tells me it normally costs £8.50 a night to moor at the lock and it’s limited to no more than three nights but because we are waiting on the Environment Agency he will waver the fee until our licence arrives, which is a great deal for us, as we are in no rush to move on.

The mooring is across from the long and dramatic weir that stretches down to the bridge leading to Teddington town centre, and it is here that the flow of the River Thames is monitored and that can be up to 15,000 million gallons per day in times of flood. Teddington lock is the lowest and largest on the non-tidal Thames and is well known as the place where the river changes colour, signifying it’s the highest point to which the tide flows. Before the lock was built in 1810 the tide flowed eleven miles further upstream, as far as Staines before its effect was lost. The spring sunshine, it seems, had woken the good people of Teddington from their winter hibernation and the towpath is quite busy, it’s amazing how a little bit of sun cheers everyone up.

Quite a few people stop and talk, interested in the pros and cons of life aboard a boat, so I am intrigued when one gentleman doesn’t ask the usual questions but says; I like what you’ve done with the graphics, nodding to the logo on the side of the boat; it’s a modern take on the roses and castles that adorn traditional canal boats, he says. I’m shocked, he’s the first person to mention the graphics, so I ask him to explain his thinking, wondering if he really understands. Well, he says the stylised Mackintosh rose represents the roses and the squares represent the battlements of a castle… roses and castles. He’s right and I’m so pleased that someone has finally noticed it, but my euphoria is short lived when he says; The design's not Art Deco though, it’s more in the style of the Arts and Crafts movement, and walks away without further comment.

We take a stroll into Teddington and are pleased to see that the high street is similar to the ones in the towns and villages we visited on our trip up the Grand Union, holding the corporates at bay and keeping their independent shops, something that cannot be said for our Northern towns. After a pleasant stroll we return to the boat and spend a lazy afternoon on board because tomorrow we start phase two of TLC on Art Deco, we are going to polish the roof. We cleaned and polished most of the boat while we were in Brentford but didn’t get round to the roof. This short statement doesn’t convey the hard work that it entails and after three and a half hours on our hands and knees we are both knackered! We are now waiting for it to rain, the satisfaction of a job well done is to see the rain drops standing proud of the paintwork.

While we are working the lock keeper comes by and says our licence has arrived so I walk back with him and pick up the paperwork. He says that we can stay for three more nights if we like but we would have to pay £8.50 per night. We want to visit Strawberry Hill House which is nearby so I pay him for two more nights and we will make the visit tomorrow.

Strawberry Hill House was built in the early 18th century by Horatio Walpole, 4th Earl of Orford who was an English Whig politician, writer, historian and antiquarian. The house itself is a large and quirky Gothic mansion and is filled with Walpole’s eccentric collection of gothic items and a décor that can best be described as gloomy. It’s set in 46 acres of land and when we visited there was an exhibition of strange human/animal shaped sculptures and they looked perfectly at home in the landscape of this eccentric place. We enjoyed the visit and spent a full day there looking round the house and exploring the vast gardens.

It was time to move on though, we had been moored at Teddington for five days and the power in batteries was down to 55%. I had been advised not to let the charge fall below 50% so we were in need of a long cruise to get them back up to scratch and we were desperate to start our adventure on the Thames. We had a website designed and ready to go live but we thought we should hold fire and familiarise ourselves with our new surroundings and get to know the river a little better before we started taking on any guests.

Roydon Marina

We spent the first few days in the marina finding our way around and getting to know our new neighbours, all very laid back and chilled out, just what we needed after two weeks continually on the move. The people around us were very friendly and welcoming and we slipped easily into our new way of life, it was becoming everything we had hoped it would be. We had a great sense of achievement, having travelled from Watford, via the Grand Union, Regent and Hertford Union canals, and the rivers Lea and Stort, to Roydon marina, not bad going, we thought, for our first ever cruise on a canal boat. It was good to finally relax though, knowing that tomorrow there would be no locks to work, no bridges to negotiate and no worries regarding the electrics; all that was behind us, we had started a new chapter in our lives.

Since setting off from Watford we had travelled every day, but now that we were in the marina and had reached our destination phase one of our plan was complete, but it felt a little strange to be stationary. We had been so focused on getting to this point that we had given no thought to the next phase of our adventure, how to market Art Deco as a short break destination. It seemed so simple and easy when we were living in our flat in Sheffield, overlooking the canal basin, watching the boats come and go, but now we had to get down to reality and make some firm plans. The difficulty was though, the more we discussed our future, the more difficult it seemed to become.

The first problem was that the marina was registered as a leisure facility and no business was allowed to be conducted from it, we could not even use it as a postal address. The other problem was the fact that we did not see the attraction of the area, there was simply not enough to offer guests, either from the river or the surrounding area. We had not been thorough enough with our research; we were naïve, thinking that the Lea Valley Country Park would have enough in itself to offer. In fact the ‘park’, in reality is a narrow corridor that follows the course of the river; move a half mile from either side of it and you are into an industrial landscape. No matter which way we looked at it we could not see a way to make it work. It was not a disaster, we had not planned for it to be a full time job and pay a wage, it would be something to do now and again, and hopefully meet some interesting people along the way. We decided to put the plan on hold for a while and enjoy the time leisure cruising, something we had not been able to do on our journey down.

This delay allowed us to finish a few outstanding jobs on Art Deco. As I have mentioned before, things were rushed with the build towards the end and there were a few items that did not get finished. I had designed a fold down dinner table for the saloon, consisting of a wooden frame with screw on metal legs and a glass top, etched with the Art Deco rose. The builders had made the frame but had not had time to fix it in place, so that was one job that needed completing. We had chosen oak flooring throughout the boat, but it was quite cold to the feet, so  we decided to carpet the two sleeping cabins, job number two. Last job was fitting a stove in the saloon which we had purchased at the Crick inland waterways boat show the previous year. We thought that it fitted our modern style of boat perfectly and I remember saying to Joyce at the time that it was much better than one of those black cast iron stoves normally seen on narrow boats. How wrong can one person be.

I was completely taken in by the salesman, believing everything I was told about his revolutionary new take on a boat stove. It was a contemporary design made from stainless steel, clean burning, it didn't need a flue as there were no fumes and was simple to install. I had the builders fit a small shelf diagonally across the right hand corner at the front of the saloon and the stove was simply suspended underneath. It really looked the part, sleek and modern and it fitted perfectly with our minimalist approach to décor. The fuel it burned was ethanol, a clean burning liquid which sat in a trough at the base of the unit. There were artificial coals, shaped to look like pebbles masking the fuel and when it was lit the flames danced amongst them, all very pleasing to the eye, but completely useless as a boat stove.

What a disappointment it turned out to be! It gave out very little heat and, as we found out later, when ethanol burns it creates its own volume in water, absolutely useless in the confines of a boat. After a few minutes of use the walls and roof of the boat were running with condensation! That was it, I fired up the lap top and found a Morso Squirrel stove for sale on Ebay, which our daughter and son-in-law collected and brought down a few weeks later. The black cast iron stove that I had been so critical of in the past, was perfect and served us well throughout our time on the boat. The old adage; if it ain't broke don’t fix it, came to mind and I was more than willing to eat my words. Pete, one of our new friends in the marina had been a marine engineer and he fitted the Morso for us and wouldn’t take any money for the work, a favour among friends he said, words we would hear time and again on our travels on the rivers and canals.

The ethanol stove was so short lived that unfortunately we have no photographs of it, we were so eager to get rid of it! I did try to contact the manufacturers, but, surprise, surprise, they had ceased trading. We eventually sold it on Ebay, after stating in bold capital letters that it was not suitable as a heat source. The lady who bought it was going to use it as a feature for a summer house, at least it would be used and we got a bit of money back, so not a complete disaster.

There was still one major problem that needed solving, the bow thrusters. The thruster tube was now 75% submerged, the thrusters did work but not as efficiently as they should, that last 25% needed submerging. More ballast was needed and for once we had a stroke of luck. A wide beam barge just along the pontoon was being renovated, and can you believe it, they had too much ballast! The owner was delighted to let us have it, he had been wondering how to get rid of it and we were only too pleased to take it off his hands: a win, win situation all round. We borrowed a wheel barrow and transferred the concrete blocks from his boat to our front hold and put them on top of the blocks we had installed at Watford and it worked; the thruster tube was now fully submerged.

Ware

To celebrate we decided to take our first cruise out of the marina, to the town of Ware on the river Lea. It would mean going back down the Stort. We had already concluded that Art Deco was too big to get any further up river, Roydon bridge being far too low for us to get under. The river was very busy as we set off; a temperature of around 30 degrees was forecast before thunderstorms arrived over the coming weekend. Traffic and boats moored close to the locks made for slow progress, but this was a leisure cruise not a race so we settled into it. We came upon Stanstead Abbots an enticing village complete with a village green, beside which was a traditional looking pub. We would have liked to stop and have a look around but the moorings were full, so we travelled on.

I had consulted Nicholson again, and there was a warning notice regarding Stanstead lock, stating that the top paddles gave an unexpected rush of water into the lock chamber, catching out the unwary and to make things even more difficult there was a swing bridge over the lock, which had be opened before entering. So we approached with apprehension. There was a boat coming from the opposite direction just entering the lock so we helped them operate the lock and sure enough as the top paddles were opened there was an amazing sight, as torrents of white foaming water rushed into the lock, fortunately we were prepared and there was no problem. In the end we negotiated the lock with ease and carried on our merry way, thankfully there was just one more lock to go, the lock gates were massive and heavy, and it was a struggled to open and close them. Now we realised why some people just sat aboard their boats and stayed in the marina, the locks in both direction on this river take some man-handling, cruising the Lea is not for the faint hearted.

The river bisects Ware high street by means of a very low bridge; we would have not been able to travel any further had we not sorted the ballast problem, but we were through the town before we knew it. We turned around just before Ware lock and found a lovely spot to moor next to Town Bridge. Ware is famous for its 18th Century gazebos in the gardens of the houses backing on to the river, they were renovated in the 1970s, and they are as charming as the town itself. It was 4.30pm by the time we were moored, it had taken us five and a half hours, with a break for a spot of lunch. This was turning out to be a challenging trip, so we decided to stay over and sample the night life of the town. Ware is a great place for a pub crawl, there are dozens of hostelries within a short walk of each other. We only tried one or two of them though; there is nothing like a day wrestling with heavy lock gates to tire you out. During the night we had thunder and lightning, the storm had arrived early, but by morning the sun had returned and the prospect was for another hot day.

We set off early, while it was relatively cool, determined to make better time on the return journey and remarkably we did, getting back in just two and three quarter hours. Granted two of the locks were open and ready to receive us, but still halving the journey time was rather satisfying, we were getting good at this boating game!. We did have one problem on the river Stort as we were coming towards Low Lock. The wind caught hold of the boat just as we reached an enclave of moored craft and we hit one of them, it was a gentle bump and no damage was done to either boat. Luckily the owner was very understanding and, when he asked if we could take a couple of his friends and their luggage back to Roydon Marina we were glad to oblige.

As we entered the marina I decided to try running the boat on the electric drive, and I loved it. Cruising along with no sound at all was very relaxing, but it did not have the power of the diesel engine which we had to return to in order to moor at our berth. Pleasant as it was cruising on electric drive, it did use a lot of power, not a problem today because we have shore power at our berth, but if we were away for any length of time it would not be practical. Our long term aim is to become ‘constant cruisers’ and the only way we will be able to charge the batteries when we are cruising is to use the diesel engine.

All in all it was a very successful first leisure cruise, the hybrid worked well in both charging and electric drive mode and it gave us confidence to travel further afield, something we were both looking forward to. As we planned to become "constant cruisers" we decided to get ourselves some professional tuition regarding boat safety and handling so we booked ourselves onto the Inland Waterways Helmsman Course, a course that one of our neighbours recommended.

Training Day

The day of the course arrived and Paul, the instructor was with us by 9.40am. The first lesson of course, was a lecture on Health and Safety, I shouldn’t be cynical, there are all sorts of hazards waiting to catch you out both on and off the boat. This was followed by a lesson on rope handling and knot tying. Joyce is left handed and found it extremely difficult especially when the tutor demonstrating is right handed, but she managed okay. Finally the theory was over and we cast off ready for the practical lesson with me at the tiller and Paul at my side. The progress was slow, Paul was quite meticulous, every part of boat handling and lock management was explained in the minutest detail, all very informative and we soon came to realise the importance of the course and just how little knowledge we had. A lot of time was spent learning the correct way to enter a lock and throw the mooring rope over the bollard and securing the boat in the lock side.

The most useful tip that Paul gave me was to use short bursts of the throttle, with the tiller positioned fully to the right or left, depending on which way you want the boat to go. It gives you good sideways motion with little or no forward motion and makes manoeuvring in tight spaces very easy and much less stressful. Lunch time was approaching so we moored at Dobbs weir and had sandwiches on the boat, courtesy of Joyce and a much needed pint at the Fish and Eels. It had taken us four hours to travel two and half miles, but we had negotiated four locks along the way, gaining knowledge of "best practice" regarding lock management. We will never approach a lock again in the way we had previously done.

Lunch over and panic set in when Paul announced that Joyce must take the tiller and bring the boat into the next lock, after all this was a helmsman course and to get her licence she had to prove she was competent handling the boat. She had taken over once or twice in the past when I needed a toilet break, but had not done any precise manoeuvres, but now she had to step up to the mark. The river was busy with people enjoying a pleasant Saturday afternoon, and Joyce was doing well until we approached the first lock where we came upon two hire boats full of young adults in party mode. Against all the odds she managed to moor the boat on the lock side and then entered without any problem, with only a little help from Paul. Through the lock safely, she turned the boat around to head back towards Roydon, fully expecting this to be the end of her tuition. But no, she had to take it back though the lock, negotiating a tight bridge on the way. The young people on the day boat were about to close the lock gates before we had time to enter until Paul shouted for them to stop, which to their credit they did and helped with the lock, nearly knocking one of themselves out with the windlass in the process.

We travelled up the Lee and made the turn onto the river Stort, where I took over again for the run up to the marina. A strong wind had developed and I knew I would have a problem mooring the boat stern on, and after two failed attempts Paul took over and using his theory of short throttle bursts in forward and reverse managed after a few aborted attempts to get us moored. The lessons we learnt will be put into practice and will make our life as ‘continuous cruisers’ much easier and more enjoyable. We both showed we were competent handling the boat and received our Helmsman licence; a good day's work and well worth the effort.

Decisions...

With our teething problems behind us we were able to give some thought to the future. The marina had provided just what we needed at the time, a stable environment to get used to the big changes in our lifestyle and a place to get all the boat problems sorted, but it had never been our long term plan to stay. We had enjoyed our time there and had made some good friends, but we thought it was time for us to move on.

We spent a lot of time researching which would be the best waterway on which to offer Art Deco as a short break destination and there was no contest, it would be the non-tidal section of the river Thames. Based there we would have just over 90 miles of river to cruise, from Teddington tidal lock in the east to Osney lock at Oxford in the west. We would have preferred to have the option of travelling into central London but that would mean getting a licence to cruise the tidal Thames and being a commercial waterway it is far more regulated than the non tidal section. Art Deco would need a VHF radio and we would need a certificate to operate it, and a whole host of regulations regarding boat safety to conform to. After a few conversations with folks who had tried it we decided it wasn’t worth the bother, we would be quite happy with the non tidal Thames There would be plenty of interesting places to visit along the section we had chosen, towns and villages such as Henley, Marlow, Kingston and Oxford along with the jewel in the crown, Hampton Court.

We pencilled in early September as our leaving date, by that time we will have spent around three months in the marina, long enough, we wanted to travel further afield and try out our business plan. If things went well we could start welcoming our first guest aboard Art Deco in the spring of 2015. The Saturday evening before we left the marina we invited all our new friends on board Art Deco for drinks and nibbles to thank them for all the help and advice they had given, and to say good bye. It was a great evening and went on well into the night and we promised to keep in touch and planned to return for a Christmas get together in the local pub in December. The following Monday we filled up with diesel and water, pumped out the effluent tank and left Roydon Marina for good. We would be returning in December, but not aboard Art Deco, she will be moored on a waterway somewhere near a railway station where we can get a train to Roydon.

Our travels begin, and a meeting with 'Mad' Jack

We would enter the Thames via the Grand Union canal at Brentford, retracing part of the journey we had made from Watford, and we were looking forward to it. On our way to Roydon we had been so keen to get to the marina that we had seen very little of the surrounding area, passing through towns and villages as quickly as possible, having “no time to stand and stare” to borrow a quote Wordsworth. The Thames and our business plan could wait a while, we wanted to take life easy and enjoy ourselves, after all that was the main purpose of this adventure.

A little further up river from Ware is the town of Hertford, the end of the Lea navigation for all but small craft, so it seemed logical to start our journey to the Thames from there. On our way we stopped in Ware for lunch and as we sat on the back deck having a beer, a little 40 foot narrow boat pulled along side and the skipper called out, “I’ve been looking for you guys, heard you're the boat with the fancy hybrid engine.” “That’s right I replied, how do you know about it?” “I’m Morrison” he replies and I know everyone and everything that goes on on this river, and without being asked, he tied up against us and jumped aboard! “That beer looks good” he said with a smile as he made himself comfortable, so I went below and fetched him a cold one.

This was our first encounter with one Jack “Mad” Morrison. He was a character of indeterminate age and according to him had lived alone on his boat ‘Bounty’ for as long as he could remember. He says he knows everyone and everything that happens on the Lea. He was a marine engineer and was keen to look at our engine, so I opened the engine hatch and he had a good poke around, stating that it looked very impressive. He asked where we were heading and when we tell him he replies, “great! that’s where I’m heading, follow me, I know the best places to moor. We travel in convoy and at Hertford lock, three of his mates joined him on board and once through the lock we all carried on our merry way. We were apparently heading for the basin at the end of the navigation, a few good pubs there he tells us, but I know from the Nicolson that there is a low bridge just before the basin, we will have to take it steady.

Sure enough, up ahead I could see the bridge, and as we get closer I know it’s going to be tight so I pull into the side and stop, not wanting to chance it. It is a modern concrete bridge that carries the A10 trunk road over the river in a single span, very wide but also very low. Morrison saw us stop, turned around and came along side to ask what the problem was. When I explain an argument erupted, he said we will just make it, I disagree, but he is so persuasive that I agree to try, on the understanding that I can abort at any time. He agreed and followed Art Deco up to the bridge, but as I get close I see that we won’t make it so stop mid stream. To my astonishment his three mates jump aboard and push on the underside of the bridge, lowering the boat slightly and shout to me to keep going forward. I comply, but they soon tire, and we ended up stuck under the bridge. Morrison came along side and tied Bounty to Art Deco climbed aboard and as I engage reverse the four of them pushed on the bridge roof and we slowly reversed our way out.

Thankfully there was no serious damage just a few scratches, but the river at this point is not wide enough for us to turn around, we will have to travel in reverse all the way back to Hertford lock, over a mile away. Morrison agreed to take the tiller, and to his credit did a brilliant job but when we got to the lock the river still was not wide enough so the boat had to go through the lock in reverse. Fortunately at the other side we were able to turn around and found a mooring spot just below the lock. We feared that we would be stuck with them for the night, but they were keen to get away and thankfully went on their way to Hertford, no doubt to enjoy the delights the pubs had to offer.

After breakfast the following morning we walked into Hertford and spent the morning looking around the town, stopping off at one of the many pubs for lunch before returning to Art Deco in the late afternoon. We didn’t see sight of Morrison or his boat that day and I thought that would be the last we would see of him, but Joyce admitted that she had given him our phone number, he was so persuasive she said! We spent a second night moored at Hertford lock, it had been an eventful cruise, but we had to admit it had been quite exciting and we enjoyed it immensely. We were in no hurry to move on, the CRT ( canal and river trust) who are responsible for the waterway state that unless there are notices to the contrary, any craft can moor in one place for a maximum of fourteen days. We liked the mooring and Hertford was only a 30 minute walk away so decided to stay a while.

“Dave, want some cheap diesel?” I recognise Morrison’s dulcet tones and hesitated, we were running low on fuel its true, but did we really want to be involved with him again? Joyce is asking who’s calling and when I tell her she is frantically motioning NO! “25p a litre” he says, we were paying upwards of 50p at the time, it was a tempting offer but before I have time to answer he says “meet me at Stanstead lock tomorrow afternoon” and ended the call.

What were we to do? It seemed too good a deal to miss, so after weighing up the pros and cons we decided to go, we would be heading down river in a few days time, far away from his stamping ground. It was only a short cruise down river the next morning, through Ware and Hardmead locks and sure enough as we approach Stanstead lock we saw Bounty moored just above with Morrison on deck to greet us. He is alone thank goodness, his mates are gone and he is his charming self, flirting, as ever with Joyce. Moored in front of him was a wreck of a boat, it must have been a working barge back in the day, but it was now long past its sell by date.

He climbed aboard and instructed me to come along side, tying me up midships. “Un-screw your fuel cap” he said as he reached down into the barge’s hold and pulled up a hose which he fitted into the fuel tank. There was a small in - line pump attached which he switched on and eventually fuel could be seen flowing through the clear tube and into my tank. This went on for what seemed a long time, but was probably less than 10 minutes before the tank was full. I replaced the fuel cap, he untied me and as I moored Art Deco by the lock he disappeared into a small cottage a few meters up the tow path. He returned shortly and said “wait for me at the Fish and Eels” which was just down river at Dobb’s weir. We obligingly obeyed his command and as we sat with a drink in the garden of the pub, we wondered if we had just been involved in some sort of crime? It all seemed very clandestine and we had seen no money change hands. Soon the distinctive chug of Bounty’s Lister engine interrupts our musings as he approaches and soon he is sat with us, pint in hand. He has a twinkle in his eye as he asks ”have you got a fiver Dave?” I take one out of my wallet and hand it over to him and as he takes it I start to question him, but he gives me a wink and says “ask no questions, get no lies”.

River Lea

Travelling down the Lea a few days later we came to Broxbourne, and there was a mooring free near the town centre so we decided to stop and have a look around. It looked quite an affluent place sporting lots of independent shops and a couple of large supermarkets, a good place to stock up we thought. Back in the marina we had relied on the internet to order our groceries, Tesco would deliver right to the boat, but that was not an option now, we had to get our own shopping. We liked the look of the place so we decided to stay a few days. The south east of England is unknown to us, apart from a few visits to London, so we wanted to explore more than just the immediate river side.

We had an enjoyable few days looking round the town and surrounding area before we set off again down river in search of new adventures. We were approaching Waltham Abbey, a place where we had overnighted on our way to Roydon and thought it deserved a better look. We found a mooring just by the bridge and as it was a lovely afternoon we found a decent looking pub and had drinks in the garden. We spent a couple of days in the town, then it was off again down river, through the imaginary portal that is Enfield lock and carried on down river before mooring for the night just below Tottenham lock.

Once again we were very much in an urban landscape, gone are the green fields and rolling countryside, to be replaced by factories and warehouses and the grimy moored boats added a sort of ‘edgy’ feel to the place. but the light was fading, we were tired and needed to eat and rest. As we were securing Art Deco a lady from the boat in front came over and explained that a body in a suitcase had been fished out of the river that morning, the police had just left she said, “I’m on my own and don’t feel safe around here, I’m moving off first thing in the morning.” It seemed a bit of an extreme reaction to us, we had hoped to stop for a few days and decided not to change our plans, after all lightening doesn’t strike twice, or does it?

We spent the following day looking around Tottenham Hale, we needed supplies and Google maps showed Tottenham High Street nearby, the only problem was that to get to it we had to go down, and I kid you not, (look on Google maps) Carbuncle Passage! The name certainly fitted the area, it was a run down and neglected place so after stocking up we decided to move on the following day.

The next morning I did my usual engine checks but as we prepared to leave the engine would not start, very unusual -  it always started with the first turn of the ignition. I was taught to always look for the simplest solution first, so did we have fuel? Of course we did, we had filled up courtesy of Morrison not long ago, but I thought I would check anyway. Art Deco did not have a fuel gauge, it had a dip stick instead, so I unscrewed the fuel cap, dipped the tank, and to my astonishment there was no more than a few millimetres of diesel showing on the stick. Some b*****d must have syphoned the tank in the night! We needed to get diesel and after asking round a few fellow boaters, without luck, I found the nearest petrol station on Google and set off walking the three miles there and back. I had to buy a container and of course roadside fuel stations do not sell red diesel, road diesel is exactly the same fuel without the red colouring, but as it’s taxed it is more expensive. The cost of the container and 2 litres of fuel cost me more than the full tank I had from Morrison just the week before, payback time for our little scam!

As soon as I got back to the boat I put the fuel in the tank and we were away, vowing never to return. Fortunately, just down river was Springfield Marina where we would be able to fill up with red diesel. As the mechanic from the marina was filling us up I related our problem with the stolen fuel. He said they had locking fuel caps for sale in the chandlery, and if I moved down the pontoon, away from the pump, I could moor there and fit it. I paid him for the fuel and cap, moved down the pontoon and waited for him to return. He was gone quite a while and I was about to go and find him when he returned with the fuel cap and his tool box. “It’s not just a case of replacing your cap with the locking one”, he said, “the old fitting will have to come out and the correct one fitted in it’s place”. Without another word he started removing the original fitting and replacing it with the new one. An hour later, after drilling new holes for the screws, he had the locking cap fitted. He would not take any money for his work but I shoved a fiver in his pocket and told him to have a drink on me!

Before we left I asked if there were any visitor moorings in the marina, we needed somewhere to leave the boat while we returned to Roydon for the Christmas Party. He said they had a couple and I gave him the dates and he said he would reserve one for me. They also had electric hook up, another problem solved, I would be able to do a battery equalisation at the same time. We carried on down river and shortly, in the distance we could see the bright red structure of the Arcelor Mittal Orbit, the sculpture and viewing platform in the Queen Elizabeth Olympic park, so we knew we were approaching the turn onto the Hertford Union canal which would lead us to the Grand Union canal. As there were plenty of mooring spaces available on the river and we thought it would be interesting area to spend a few days, we were in no hurry, so we found a spot and moored up.

Queen Elizabeth Olympic Stadium

The following morning we went for a walk and were pleasantly surprised with our surroundings. The park itself was superb, being only a few years old, in fact the whole area was amazing, very modern and it had a good vibe to it. Later that evening after we had eaten, sitting with a bottle of wine we reviewed our present situation and started pencilling in a plan for the following year. We decided to travel up the Grand Union to Stoke Bruerne, the iconic canal village by the Blisworth tunnel. This seemed the logical place to start our journey south to the Thames, we would not be able to travel much further north due to the narrow locks around Birmingham. As we were well into autumn and with winter approaching we needed to find a area to base ourselves before continuing north the following spring. Somewhere safe, with amenities near by and an interesting cruising area. We didn’t want to be stuck in one place all winter, we planned to move around as much as the weather would allow, in fact we had to move to keep the batteries charged. The hybrid set up was such that the 48 volt alternator was attached to the flywheel of the engine, which meant that it only put charge into the batteries when the engine was in gear and the prop was turning. An option was to detach the prop shaft from the gear box, not too difficult a job, but I kept that as an emergency measure and luckily we never had to use it.

After much discussion and map studying we opted for the easy way out, stay where we were! It suited us perfectly, there was Old Ford lock just down river with a water supply and Elsan disposal, Springfield Marina up river with diesel and chandeliers, the large Westfield shopping mall just a short walk away and Stratford Station with overground and underground rail services nearby. The area was good for cruising too, and what looked like, some interesting places to visit, we even had easy access to Limehouse Basin with the river Lea running into it via the Limehouse cut.

It turned out to be everything we had expected and more, we had a wonderful three months in and around the area. We made our promised visit to Roydon for the party just before Christmas, leaving Art Deco in Springfield marina, hooked up to shore power. We had equalised the batteries before leaving so on our return all the cells were up to 100% and in optimum condition. The winter of 2014/15 must have been a ‘kind’ one, or am I looking back through rose coloured glasses? We certainly did a lot of cruising, not staying in one place for more than a few days at a time. The area we covered was between Broxbourne in the north to Limehouse in the south, some 30 miles of the river Lea, with many interesting places to see in between.

Characters

Being so close to central London, there were many folks living aboard boats, from individuals to families and everyone in between. We met a wide spectrum of  ‘interesting’ people, those who wanted to ‘disappear,’ professionals who had full time jobs in the city and a few retired couples like ourselves. Living on a boat is a great leveller. One day we could be sharing a drink with an ex American air force fighter pilot who had ‘burnt himself out’, and the following day with the head of music at Middlesex university who insisted we go aboard his narrow boat because we didn’t believe he had a piano on board! Or chatting to ‘John’ the quiet one who didn’t share any personal information, not even his real name. Everyone was treated with the same respect, no one was judged.

At first we were surprised by the number of single women who were living alone on the river, but as time went by we realised that on the river there were small communities, grouped together who looked out for each other. There was always someone about, no matter what time of day or night it was, so crime was very low. Although some areas we moored in had a reputation as hot spots of crime, the river seemed exempt from it, we never experienced any or saw any, although I suspect that has changed now.

Once again technology played its part in helping these small communities to thrive. There was a Facebook group where boaters ‘met’ and shared experiences and offered advice and tips. The schedule of the fuel boat who delivered diesel, logs and coal, direct to your boat was posted. There were engineers who could fix any mechanical problems, carpenters, plumbers and marine electricians, in fact you could find all sort of help on the site.

The most useful aspect of the site though was the swapping of moorings. The CRT rules required that each boat had to move to a different spot every 14 days, and the site allowed boaters to swap places with each other. This usually happened in the early hours of the morning when you could safely move without anyone grabbing the vacated places. When we first arrived in the area we wondered why boats were moving around in the early hours? The answer was they were swapping places! It was a great community to be part of, everyone helped each other, it was like having a very large extended family around you and was very reassuring.

We didn’t restrict ourselves just to the river, we wondered further afield, mainly on foot, and Google maps was a great help. We were never bored, there was always something new and interesting to see and whenever we moored in a new place we consulted Google and then explored the area. We came across places we would never have seen if we had not been living this lifestyle, we thought ourselves very lucky indeed. Wherever we moored other boaters would come and talk to us, asking where we had come from and where we were going. It soon became clear that we were the exception: we moved around, whereas most of our neighbours tended to stick to the same general area, moving only every three weeks as the law demanded. It’s true, we were retired and had no commitments, where as most of our fellow boaters had work to go to, or kids to get to school.

Victoria Park and London

We cruised all the river Lea, but we always returned to the area around the Olympic Park, it was our base, a place to call home. On one of our walks, we came across Victoria Park, a place we had passed on our way to Roydon as we cruised along the Hertford Union canal. Unlike the Olympic Park this was a proper, old fashioned Victorian park, and it was beautiful, with well tended flower beds, a cricket pitch and lots of green spaces. On the edge of the park, away from the canal was ‘The People’s Park Tavern’, a great watering hole and a great place to eat. It was a community pub, run by the locals, and was a lively place with live music and dancing, performed in the large covered outdoor space. We wiled away many happy hours there and it will be remembered as one of the best pubs we found. In December the park was host to an eclectic market. Ignore everything you know or have heard about Christmas markets, this one was most defiantly different. There were none of the usual tacky goods normally associated with these events, everything on offer was hand made by local artists and craftsmen.

The park lies in the borough of Hackney, which is home to many small businesses and is a real bohemian place, frequented by artists, craftsmen and musicians who have their studios and workshops there. The cafes and bars reflect this and were wonderful places to sit and chat. It came as no surprise to us that many of the customers lived on the boats moored on the canal. In the summer months some of them cruised the canal system, selling the items they had made and there was always a pub to be found where local musicians were playing. It was our favourite place on the Lea and we have a lot of happy memories of the time we spent there.

We enjoyed visiting central London and managed it many times over the winter. Most of the time we opted for the tube from Stratford underground station, but that meant we had to return the same day. If we cruised there on Art Deco we could stay in Limehouse Basin for a maximum of three nights as visitors, paying £10 a night. The problem with this option was the fact that it wasn’t an easy journey, lots of moored boats and tight bends to negotiate and the scenery could only be described as grim. There is a saying which states “It's grim up north”. Well, we come from the north and I can honestly say that I have never seen any place in the north as grim as the Limehouse Cut. It basically consists of a concrete channel cutting through a run down urban landscape. That aside, once we were in the basin, we loved it. We could spend all day wondering the capital, find a good pub in the evening for a meal and a few drinks, then walk back to the boat, it was wonderful. One of our favourite pubs to visit was ‘The Grapes’ a short walk from Limehouse Basin and owned by Sir Ian McKellen, in fact on one of our visits he was ‘holding court’ sat at the bar, surrounded by his admirers.

We liked Kew Gardens and made many visits over the months, Christmas time being especially memorable when the gardens are illuminated. The Grand Union Canal enters the Thames at Brentford opposite the gardens so it was a good place from which to survey the river and familiarise myself with the layout. This stretch of the Thames is the tidal part and it’s about a 5 mile cruise upstream to Teddington where the tidal lock is situated, upstream from there is the non-tidal Thames. Boats like our’s are allowed on this stretch without the necessary licence as long as they make the journey in one go and without stopping. A slot has to be booked at the lock and exit is allowed only at slack water which is usually around 2.5 hours either side of high tide. We spent our first Christmas on the boat by the Olympic Park, enjoying Lobster Thermidor for Christmas Day dinner, purchased from a restaurant near by followed by a walk in Victoria Park and a few drinks in The People’s Park Tavern. It was very different from the family Christmas dinners we were use to but thoroughly enjoyable.

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.

 

My previous post told the story of how our life aboard Art Deco ended and I thought that maybe it is a good idea to tell the story of how it started. How two relatively sane people of pensionable age decide to give up bricks and mortar, sell everything they possessed and invest in what is essentially tin can floating on water.

It all started with a chance meeting back in the spring of 2011. At that time my wife, Joyce and myself were the owners of a small cafe that we had started after being made redundant. Over time the cafe became a meeting place for the local community, mainly because we served excellent food and coffee courtesy of Joyce, but also because of the five computer terminals we had installed, offering customers free access to the internet. This had been my idea, to offer something unique in the hope of generating custom, which indeed it did. I was on hand to help folks who weren’t that computer literate to navigate the internet and generally offer encouragement and advice.

One Wednesday morning in May of that year a lady came in, ordered a coffee and asked if I could help her with the computer, she wanted to find out if there were any moorings available for canal boats in London. As we searched the internet we chatted and she told me that she was having a boat built in Tyler Wilson's yard on the canal in Sheffield and planned to take it down to London and live on it. I did not know it at the time but that one chance meeting would be the start of an amazing adventure.

The lady, Rosemary was her name, became a regular customer of the cafe and one day she invited us onto her boat for drinks. We were living in an apartment in the Old Grain Warehouse right by the Sheffield Canal Basin so we knew exactly where the boat builder was, in fact we frequently spent time chatting to the boaters who moored there. The cafe was closed on Sundays so the following weekend we made the first of many visits to her boat, which was in the final stage of the internal fit out with just a few ‘snags’ to sort out before she went on her way to a mooring in central London that we had found on the internet. Her son and family lived in the Camden area and she wanted to be close to them but couldn’t afford property prices and living on a boat seemed to tick all the boxes for her.

It was a lovely summer that year and we spent many a happy Sunday afternoon on Rosemary’s boat enjoying a glass of wine and each others company. On one occasion we were chatting away when the conversation led to what our careers had been before retirement. Rosemary and her late husband had been in the hospitality trade all their working lives, managing pubs and later small hotels. As we chatted she stopped, looked around her boat and said, “you know, a boat like this would be perfect as a floating hotel”.

I heard the words and immediately a light flashed on in my mind, I had an idea! We had been successful running the cafe, really busy with lots of trade, but it was proving very hard work. We loved the interaction with the customers but we were only just about earning the minimum wage even though we were working very long hours and it was beginning to tell, we were both in our early sixties for heavens sake! For some time we had been thinking of what our next move would be, where would we go, what would we do next. Our two children had left home, Adrianne was registrar at the Baltic Gallery of Contemporary Art in Newcastle and David was in Sheffield working as a digital graphic designer, so with no responsibilities we felt that we could do whatever we wanted and go wherever we pleased. I had been self-employed in the eighties, running my own graphic design studio, so I was familiar with going it alone and not afraid to take a chance. Rosemary’s suggestion of the floating hotel had fixed itself in my mind and I couldn’t let it go, it was an itch that I had to scratch!

I had no experience of the boating world, a couple of holidays on the Norfolk Broads was the limit of my boating knowledge, so a steep learning curve was going to be necessary if I wanted to scratch the itch and follow my dream. Joyce had agreed that in principal the concept was sound, her reservations were around the logistics and practicalities of catering for guests in the small space that a canal boat offered. We needed to know more about what we would be getting in to and the internet has made it extremely easy do. Research used to involve a trip to the local library, searching through books and magazines, finding and talking to people with relevant experience. Now courtesy of Google it can all be achieved from the comfort of your own living room.

The amount of information relevant to our needs was staggering, everything from individual blogs by boaters to detailed articles written by experts, and of course companies advertising their latest products. We spent many hours on our research and slowly a plan came together. It soon became clear that the ‘off the shelf’ option of a boat from one of the commercial builders would not meet our requirements, we needed a bespoke design to suit our project. As I mentioned earlier, I had been a graphic designer and although retired, I still had my Mac computer and design software and enjoyed creating illustrations, purely for pleasure. It was no big leap to transfer these skills to designing the internal layout and overall design of a canal boat.

The first decision to be made was the size of the craft. It would be our home we decided on a wide beam craft, 12 foot wide, as opposed to the standard narrowboat size of 6 foot 10 inches wide. (canal boat builders still use imperial measurements) This decision would limit our cruising range and we would have to decide whether to base ourselves on the northern or southern waters, Birmingham being the ‘pinch point’. The canals around this area were the first to be developed and the locks on them were built to accommodate the narrow boats, but as the network widened and trade grew, larger locks were constructed, enabling larger boats with more freight carrying capability to be built. Most of the older locks were never widened to accommodate wide beam craft resulting in the fact that Birmingham still remains a ‘pinch point’ in the canal system to this day. We decided to go south, mainly because the climate would be warmer, but it also gave us the option to cruise the river Thames as well as the canals.

With those decisions made, I started working on the internal layout. Our plan was to offer a few days cruising experience to just two adults at any one time, so we would need a craft that could accommodate: two double cabins, one for ourselves and one for guests, along with a galley, saloon and bathrooms. Most wide beam craft have the main bedroom cabin in the bow and an open plan saloon and galley at the stern, with bathroom and bedroom cabins in between. Having no previous knowledge of internal boat layouts, I could not understand the logic of this layout, and still don’t. My layout would turn this design on its head, literally, I would put the saloon in the bow, with the galley at the stern and the cabins and bathrooms in between. My logic being that our guests would be able to sit in the comfort of the saloon, watching the world cruise by through the patio doors, while the cooking and it’s associated odours would be confined to the rear of the boat.

Another reason for putting the galley at the rear is that Joyce would be spending much of the day there, as we planned to offer guests all their meals: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I would be on the rear deck skippering the boat, so we would easily be able to communicate with each other, essential, as I would need her on deck to help through the locks and bridges.

We decided to install a walk-in wet room and toilet in the guest cabin, with a separate small toilet cabin for our use when we had guests aboard. Given that our plan was not to have guests aboard full time, and only for a maximum of five days, and more importantly to save space, we thought we could get away with one shower, we would have plenty of opportunity to make use of the guest cabins facilities.

With the internal design finalised, we were in a position to determine the length and this was always going to be a compromise. It had to be long enough to accommodate all the rooms, but short enough to be easily handled. After much ‘tweaking’ we finally had a layout we were happy with resulting in a craft that was 12 foot wide and 60 foot long.

I could now turn my attention to the technical requirements and I had done quite a bit of research on canal boat engines. Joyce had insisted that if she was to provide three meals a day for guests she needed a well equipped galley, not the usual two ring gas hob with small oven that most boats have. I had read about a company who had adapted a Beta 75 marine engine to run as a hybrid system, providing both diesel and electric motive power. More importantly to me, they stated that their system could provide masses of 240 volt AC power, more than enough, they said, to power the galley that Joyce wanted. I contacted them and we entered into discussion regarding our requirements and after much debate we had exactly what Joyce required in her galley: 4 ring induction hob, oven, warming drawer, fridge freezer, microwave, dishwasher, cooker hood and washing machine. All full size A* power rated domestic appliances. The hybrid adaption powered all these appliances, along with 240 volt plug sockets throughout the boat.

The way it worked was simple; a 48 volt alternator was fitted to the standard Beta 75 marine engine, belt driven from the flywheel. This charged a bank of 24 x 2 volt motive power batteries, connected to a Victron Energy Charger/Inverter, Multiplus 48v, 5000 VA, 70 Amp. There was also a 48 volt electric motor in the drive chain which gave motive power when engaged. The only flaw with the system was that the batteries were only charged when the diesel engine was running or when the boat was connected to shore power. This should not be a problem for us as we intended to be ‘continuous cruisers’, out on the canals/rivers 24/7.

We had the design complete and from my drawings Art Deco looked a great craft, all that was needed now was for someone to turn the drawings into reality! During the summer of 2012 we compiled a list of boat builders who looked, on paper that is, likely candidates. We visited all of them over a period of few weeks working our way through the list before deciding on a builder who was based near Manchester, we placed the order and set the wheels in motion. The reason for our choice was that this builder seemed to be flexible and willing to follow my drawings and more importantly he was willing to allow me to paint the graphics. I wanted to have some physical input into the build and the graphics were my way of doing that. I also had a second, more devious reason though, it would allow me to be at the builders every day, able to ensure that I had the boat that I wanted, not the one the builder wanted.

By the autumn of 2012 we had said good by to our previous life, sold our apartment, (furniture included), car and motorbike and taken a 6 month lease on a flat in south Manchester, near to the boat builder.

The shell of the boat had been built by a yard in Stafford and was delivered to Manchester in November, ready for the fit out. The builders started immediately but I had to wait a few weeks while the shell of the boat was prepared, primed and painted with the base colour, a process that was not helped by the cream colour we had chosen for the upper part of the boat. Eight coats had to be applied before the finish was acceptable. By the time I started on the graphics it was mid-winter and the temperature was freezing, colder in the builder's shed than outside! In fact on occasions it was too cold for the paint to flow properly. It was slow and hard going, but at least I had an excuse to be at the yard every day, ready to answer the many queries and questions that inevitably cropped up. Had I not been on hand the build time would have slipped back and more importantly I would have had a boat the builder wanted, not the one I wanted.

The gods at last seemed to be smiling on us for once and the build progressed, a little slowly I have to say and over time I came to realise that our builder was defiantly ‘old school’, working at a pace that would have been acceptable in the 19th century. He didn’t understand the concept of a deadline, and we certainly had one. Our good luck didn’t last long though, the engineer from the hybrid company contacted me to say he had broken his ankle, was out of action for at least 3 weeks and would not be able to commission the engine. This was bad news indeed; the fit out of the boat was complete, the engine was in place and we were ready to go. After many heated telephone conversations it was agreed that he would come to the marina at Roydon and commission her there. The problem with that scenario was that we had to get ourselves and Art Deco there. Garry, the engineer who had installed the engine was confident it would be alright, the diesel engine he said was working fine. So without any practical knowledge regarding the hybrid side of things we reluctantly agreed, we had no choice, by this time we were homeless.

Eventually by late May 2014 Art Deco was completed and ready to make the journey south for her launch into the Grand Union canal. Our son, David, had created a website for Art Deco, ready for us to market her as a short break destination and I took the opportunity to record the build as it went along. What follows are the posts that I put on the website and they document the events as they happened, warts and all. I should point out that all names have been changed to protect the guilty!!

1st November 2013

Well it’s been a long time coming, but at last here it is, the first blog following the build of the wide beam canal boat "Art Deco". We have had a few set backs along the way, all did not go to plan, perhaps we were a little too optimistic, but now we are over the Pennines in Lancashire, living in a rented apartment in Salford for six months whilst the boat is fitted out. The shell is complete and will be transported by road from Stafford to Manchester where Brian the boat fitter will fit out the interior. This should be completed by early Spring of 2014 and then the finished boat will again be transported by road (it is too wide to pass through the locks around Birmingham) and put in the Grand Union Canal around Watford, from where we will cruise to our mooring at Roydon Marina on the river Stort in the Lea Valley Country Park.

5th December 2013

The boat shell arrived in Manchester yesterday, HOORAY!! And what a stressful day it was, I should have been prepared due to the history of this project, but I wasn’t. All is now ready for the final fit out which should take around twelve weeks so we are on course for a launch just before Easter next year. This deadline is set in stone, as we have to be out of our rented apartment by 16th April and we don’t want to extend this. Joyce has told Brian that we will live on the boat at the yard if necessary!

11th December 2013

The shell is now in the workshop, the inside being fitted out and the outside painted in our chosen colours by Brian and his team. After applying up to four coats, which will take about three weeks, the outside will be ready for me to paint the graphics, something I am really looking forward to doing. I intend to start painting the graphics in the first week of January so I will be on site to watch the progress of the build as it turns from a great hunk of metal into a beautiful boat.

20th December 2013

Into the third week of the build and I am glad to say that now things are really progressing, the fitters and painters are hard at it and Joyce and myself, along with help and advice from Brian are madly buying all the things needed for the fit out. It is great to have a blank piece of paper and start from scratch; we sold most of our furniture along with the apartment to a first time buyer, so we are able to furnish the boat as we want. We have already ordered the furniture for the saloon and this week have ordered all the wet room and day toilet fittings and tiles. We are in the process of planning the kitchen, this has not been possible until now because we need the insulation in and boarded out to get exact measurements and we are tight for space.

The kitchen is Joyce’s domain, so she tells us what she wants and Brian and myself try and fit it in. Her list is; oven, induction hob, microwave, warming drawer, cooker hood, dishwasher, washing machine, fridge, freezer, sink, and various cupboards and drawers, all in a space of 7’6” x 12’! It is amazing what you can do with a bit of careful planning; Brian has been building boats for over twenty years so he can use literally every inch of space. All the insulation and boarding out will be completed before the Christmas break, then the central heating system will go in, it can then be used during the rest of the fit out, we have to keep the fitters warm, they will work better and this should help make the deadline! The hybrid engine is ordered and should be here early in the New Year; that will be a major stage and is an exciting prospect.

On a personal note, our car of twelve years and 160,000 miles finally gave up the ghost a couple of weeks ago. We had been over in Sheffield and were on our way home when it just died; fortunately it was right outside my mate Mak’s house! Thanks Mak for the lift to my sisters and thanks to Ann and Malcolm for putting us up for the night. The car was going at the end of December, so it is not a big deal, as we don’t plan to have one when we are on the boat.

That’s all for now, Merry Christmas and Happy New year, watch this space for the next blog in the new year, hopefully we will have a gallery to post more photos by then.

10th January 2014

The build is progressing nicely; not very exciting at the moment, but it's the things you don’t see, such as insulation, that are important. Get that wrong, then you are in trouble later on. It’s the same with the painting, Alan the guy who is painting the boat is a true perfectionist, he had primed and undercoated the whole boat but was not happy with the finish, and some of the welds were showing, so he got to work with the angle grinder, smoothed them off and started again with the primer and undercoat. He is now putting on the final coats, so I should be able to start the sign writing next week, hooray!! I will then be involved on a daily basis with the build and will be on site as the exciting work begins. Look out in the next few weeks for more interesting photos!

On a different note we went to Roydon Village Marina this week where the boat will to be moored, it’s very nice and the people are very friendly. A bit more rural than we expected though, but it has all the facilities we need. There are all the usual maintenance facilities for the boat, and a clubhouse with cafe, bar, toilets, showers and laundry facilities. And there is also a restaurant on site. Roydon village itself is very up market with three pubs, a lovely old church and village green that is mentioned in the Doomsday Book, but on the downside there is just one small shop that contains the off licence, post office and grocery store. On the up side though Roydon Railway Station is only 10 minutes walk away and there are local trains that link all the nearby towns, and fast trains into London Liverpool Street, which is only thirty minutes away.

We had a quick look around the area, Broxbourne looks like a great little town with lots of interesting shops and Harlow is larger with all the usual chain stores and supermarkets, and both are on the railway line. The whole area is within the Lee Valley Country Park which has plenty of recreation facilities such as walking and cycling routes, RSPB sites and plenty of water sports, so this will be a big plus when we start marketing Art Deco as a holiday destination. That’s all for now, hopefully there will be more to see on the boat build next time.

8th February 2014

Finally, at last I have started painting the graphics on the boat. It’s been a long time coming as Alan the painter is a true perfectionist and was not happy with the finish until he had put EIGHT coats of paint on the sides. I told him it is not a Rolls Royce finish that we are after and that boating on the canals and rivers of England is a contact sport, but he insisted on getting it perfect; it puts me under pressure now to come up to his standards with the painting of the graphics. It has actually gone well, quicker than I expected, it’s been a long time since my hand lettering days on the drawing board before the invention of the Apple Macs and I was not at all confident that I could still do it, but its a bit like riding a bike, it all comes flooding back! The only down side is the actual colours, I had a limited pallet to choose from, there is not a great range of boat paint out there, just one brown and one pink and now they are on the boat they are too vivid, not the subtle colours I wanted so I will have to add white and mix to get the correct colours and repaint. I will have to paint the other side in the original colours first though so that they both look the same and then paint over with the correct colour, not as bad as it sounds as I really enjoy being at the boat yard and being involved in the build.

The up side is that I am on site all the time and can keep an eye on the build and make changes and solve problems as they arise. There is so much involved with the build, not just the usual stuff like where light fittings, switches and plug points go, but things like where to put the water and effluent tanks, and where to hide the pumps for these, and not least of all where to put the TWO TON of batteries needed for our hybrid installation. These will hopefully fit in the engine room at the back of the boat, but there may need to be an adjustment in the ballast as none of us were aware of the scale of the battery requirements; this is the first hybrid installation that Brian has done. We will also have to make sure there is adequate ventilation as the batteries need to be kept cool, I am sure all these little problems will be solved as we go along.

So now its all plumbing and wiring at the moment, all the kitchen appliances are due in next week so we can make a start on the kitchen, the two bathrooms are ready to tile and fit out and then it’s just the bedrooms to complete then the inside will be done. That just leaves the engine, batteries, generator, gearbox, prop shaft, propeller, control gear and power management system to complete - no problem! That’s about all for now, nine weeks to go on Wednesday 12th February, so it’s full speed ahead!

12th March 2014

With Spring defiantly in the air this week we are working to an end date that is now set in stone as we have given notice on our apartment here in Salford: we have to vacate on Tuesday 15 April - 5 weeks time. The fit out is going to schedule and with the first fix now complete, the guys are moving on to fitting out the bedrooms and bathrooms which should be completed in a few days. The living/dining area needs no fittings as we are using domestic furniture - two new leather settees along with the Italian glass “air” units, coffee table and standard lamp from our apartment in Sheffield. We also have an open fire, designed especially for a boat fuelled by Ethanol that will be fitted along with a new 42” Smart TV, and our fold down glass table etched with our rose logo. Then we have the kitchen to fit out which will take around a week, so long as we can squeeze in all the appliances we have! That just leaves the question of the engine that has not arrived yet, but I am assured that it is on its way and should take a week at the most to fit, so we are not panicking yet.

Since the last blog I have repainted all the graphics and I am much happier with the colours now. The photo shows the difference, not much I hear you say, but trust me the colours are much more subtle and give the overall visual effect I wanted. I just have to paint the name on the bows now then all the graphics are complete. That's all for now, hopefully in a couple of weeks I will blog the engine fitting.

9th April 2014

Stressful times, the boat won’t be ready for our deadline and we have to vacate our flat in Salford on Tuesday next week (15th). Fortunately after Joyce’s last email stating that this might happen we were offered a cottage in the Peak District by a couple of our Cafe customers who are absolutely fantastic and we are so grateful, sleeping on a part finished boat did not appeal. We will only need an extra week on the build, so hopefully we won’t be too much of a burden on our kind friends, and there is a rail station near the cottage, so I will be able to get to the boat yard and wave a big stick. Boat builders, I have learned, are notorious for letting deadlines slip. To be fair though the quality of finish and attention to detail is excellent so that is some consolation.

There have also been unforeseen problems, namely with the engine being too long. There is masses of space either side, which is good because we need the space for all the batteries, but it is the hybrid part that fits at the rear of the diesel engine that is the problem. It would just about go in, but servicing would be a problem so we have solved this by cutting away part of the bulkhead between the engine room and the kitchen so that access can be gained from the kitchen. It has actually worked out okay though, as servicing the hybrid, which has three drive belts and many electrical connections will be very easy via a removable panel in the kitchen, which will be hidden behind the rear stairs, and it only encroaches into the kitchen by about three inches.

The rest of the fit out is progressing, the wet room and second toilet are fully tiled, the two bedrooms have their wardrobes and cupboards built and all the kitchen units are in place and the Corian work tops have been delivered, but the kitchen can’t be finished until the engine is commissioned, which is not straight forward as the manufacturers are situated in the Isle of Wight and they have to do the work.

The boat WILL be complete and ready to transport down south by the week of Easter Monday so I have to find a place to drop it in the water, not as easy as I thought due to the size and weight. After many phone calls I have found a marina near Watford who can do the job so that is where we will start our adventure from, nearer to our base than Northampton where I had originally planned, so not as many locks to negotiate which makes Joyce very happy indeed.

30th April 2014

Under normal circumstances our position would be the envy of most people: Idyllic location, comfortable country cottage and great weather. Unfortunately for us things could not be more stressful and frustrating, two weeks after our original deadline and the boat is still not finished. I won’t bore you with all the issues, but we are now at the stage where others apart from Brian and his team are calling the shots. It was difficult enough dealing with one set of craftsmen, but now we have the engine fitter, the battery and electrics engineers and the hybrid manufacturer to deal with, it’s not easy.

On a positive note the diesel engine is fitted and running and the batteries and electrics should be completed today (Wednesday). The hybrid engine has to be commissioned which hopefully will happen before the end of the week, and then Chris can finish off the galley, which should complete the fit out. All we need then is a certificate of worthiness and we are finished! It’s then the logistics of transporting the boat to Watford and getting it put in the water, which hopefully will happen in the week of Bank Holiday Monday. We cannot thank our hosts here enough; they have been fantastic and very helpful and understanding in our time of need. I have included a couple of photos, not much new to see but the French windows are in and lots of detailed finishing off has been done and another major job is the bow thrusters have been fitted. Next week I will post pictures of the lift, transport to Watford and final drop into the Grand Union Canal. I will, I really, really hope I will!!!

Joyce had not been idle while I had been at the yard painting the graphics, she had secured a mooring for Art Deco in Roydon marina on the river Stort, near Harlow in Essex. We had decided to have a marina mooring for the first three months, given the problems we had experienced. We thought this would allow us time to iron out any potential problems before we became continuous cruisers. Exhaustive research had revealed that the nearest place to the Roydon marina with a crane able to lift the 28 tons that Art Deco weighed was at Watford, just by Cassiobury park on the Grand Union Canal. We arranged transport and on the morning of the 21st May a crane arrived at the yard and lifted the completed Art Deco on to a low loader for the journey south. I had managed to persuade the driver to let me travel in the cab with him, and at 10 am I left the yard with a great sense of relief. It had not been an easy build, we had had many heated arguments along the way, especially around the time the build was taking, but eventually we got there and we were now on the final leg.

Well it finally happened, the boat has left the unit but as usual for this project not without Incidents so bear with me this may take a while! The transport and crane were booked in for a 8am start on Wednesday 21st at the boat builders and as we were at that time staying in Sheffield with my sister and brother-in-law (yes we had to beg another bed for a couple of weeks!) I booked into a bed and breakfast in Manchester on the Tuesday evening and although I had pre-booked on the Monday they had no reservation for me. I had taken the phone number from the Internet and had spoken to a guy who booked me in but no males worked at the place, only women ran it, but fortunately they took pity on me and found me a bed for the night.

So at the boat builders for 8am, crane and transport already on site, it’s a hive of activity and we start to slowly pull the boat out of the unit. All is going well until the supporting bogie wheel collapsed and the boat was grounded. Fortunately by this time the boat was 95% out of the workshop so the amazing crane driver was able to manoeuvre the boat out, over the wall and on to the low loader - brilliant although the whole operation took over five hours, not the one hour predicted. So not away until after 1pm, knowing the boat yard we were heading for closed at 5pm sharp, a tight deadline.

We were making good progress and were on schedule to just about make it until the truck had a blow out on the motorway, nothing we could do but wait for rescue, which took two hours so, no boat in the water today. The boat yard could do the lift at 8.30am sharp the next morning so we found a place to park up close by and myself, Ian the driver and Wayne the support vehicle driver went to the pub and drowned our sorrows Did not have too much to drink because I was sleeping on the boat and had a fifteen-foot climb to get on!

Up the next morning and the boat was in the water for 9.15, hooray finally what a relief, but it was not to last. At 3pm I was told that I would have to move now as they had another boat to lift out of the water, panic, I was alone and had not even started the engine on this boat but had no choice but to go for it. Actually I did all right, even filling up with diesel and water on the way to a mooring place on the canal. It was not until I climbed off the boat with the ropes ready to tie up that I realised there were no mooring rings to tie up to, all the other boats had mooring stakes driven into the bank and I had none. Fortunately a fellow boater came along and helped me and that is where we are now.

Joyce came down from Sheffield by train arriving at 3pm on Friday and we have spent the weekend and bank holiday unpacking boxes, resulting in a mountain of cardboard which we have somehow to get rid of, not sure how as we have no transport. Hoping to start the journey to Roydon tomorrow if we have solved the problem of the ballast needed to trim the boat so we can use the bow thrusters.

The time on my own allowed me to familiarise myself with our new home, and get my head around the one area that had been giving me sleepless nights; the electrics. I had been at the yard when the engine was fitted, complete with the hybrid adaption, and watched as the massive bank of batteries were installed and connected up. What concerned me most was the shear thickness of the cabling used, it was a good centimetre in diameter. There was a phrase rolling round in my head, that was used in the manufacture’s literature which stated; ‘There’s enough power in the battery bank to fry an elephant!’ I needed to understand the system and quick. I had watched the engineer as he fitted and connected it all together and he explained each process as he went along and the theory seemed quite simple, but what it would be like in practice was another matter.

We had two separate electric systems; a 12 volt DC system that powered the cabin lights and water pumps and a 240 volt AC mains system, very similar to a domestic set up, that powered the galley and 13 amp plug sockets. The 240 volt system took power from the 48volt battery bank charged by the 48 volt alternator via the inverter, and the 12 volt system from two leisure batteries connected to a 12 volt mains charger. These two systems were independent from the engine electrics which were unchanged from the standard Beta 75 engine. There was a gauge on the back deck which registered the amount of charge in the batteries at any one time and the number of amps generated when the engine was running. It also registered how much power was being taken out of the batteries when the engine wasn’t running.

On my short run from the marina to the mooring I had been too occupied just steering the boat and had no time to look at the gauge, that would be something to address on the long cruise to Roydon. I have to admit that I was concerned about the journey, it was a long way for our first cruise and I didn’t know enough about the electrics, there is a lot of power in the system, and as every school boy knows, electrics and water are never a good combination.

Joyce arrived in Watford at the end of May and stepped aboard Art Deco for the first time on water and was amazed just how stable she was compared to the craft we had experienced on the Norfolk Broads, they seemed to move with every step. We spent a few more days moored at Cassiobury, familiarising ourselves with our new home, stocking the fridge and freezer with food, filling the water and diesel tanks to capacity ready for the journey north via the Grand Union canal, and the rivers Lee and Stort to Roydon marina.

One last job I wanted to do before we set off on our maiden voyage was to get the boat sitting better in the water. There was a large hold in the bow that would normally take the gas bottles, but as we were all electric it was empty, ideal to fill with ballast I thought. I arranged for the local builders merchant to deliver five cwt. of concrete blocks to the service quay of the marina and moored the boat there to load up. As I stepped off the boat I slipped and fell into the canal. With water up to my waist Joyce could not help me as she was in hysterics laughing at my predicament. Fortunately I saw the funny side of my baptism, I now felt like a true boater. After I had dried off, the two of us loaded the concrete blocks in the hold, but unfortunately they only lowered the bow a few inches. It would have to do, we were keen to be on our way. Another task that would have to wait until Roydon marina.

It had been 3 years in the making, but finally on the morning of Wednesday 27th May 2014 we left the mooring at Cassiobury and cruised off into the unknown. It was a new chapter in our lives and we were excited and a little nervous, what lay in front of us we had no idea but we had taken chances before and we were still around to tell the tale.

Whatever happened it had to be better than sitting watching daytime TV!!

Lock coming up Joyce! What already? I haven’t finished preparing lunch yet, came the reply from down in the galley. I know, its been an easy one this morning, the flow is not as strong as yesterday, all that rain we had last week must have finally worked itself out of the system.

We were aboard Art Deco, a wide beam canal barge that has been our home for the last seven years. On the river Thames, we’re cruising up river, heading for Iffley Lock where we are due to meet up with a couple of other boats. There are good moorings there and a pub, the Isis Farmhouse, right on the towpath, in a lovely, remote rural setting and the perfect place to spend a few nights before we head up to Oxford, just a short cruise away.

This is our first cruise of 2022, a chance to spread our wings after the confines of the winter, which has been particularly wet on the Thames, with quite a few periods on red boards. We had spent it around Marlow, a favourite place of ours. There are great moorings by Higginson park, and it’s just a short walk into the town and all its facilities. It even has a railway station, on a small branch line from Maidstone; how it survived the Beeching cuts I have no idea, perhaps a ‘person of influence’ lived there at the time. An extra bonus is a water tap, well hidden and not for public use, but if you know where to look and have an extra long hose, you can fill up, under the covers of darkness of course!. It came in very useful this winter as we were on red boards for over six weeks. Diesel could have been a problem at the time, but one of our fellow boaters had access to a van, so we were able to fill 5 gallon cans from a boatyard at Caversham just a few miles away.

We liked to get in a long cruise as early as possible in the year, before the river becomes busy, and this year is no different. We had set off mid March, heading down river, easy cruising, we were going with the flow of the river as it made its way towards London, and eventually the North Sea. Our journey would take us as far as Kingston on Thames, the last main town before Teddington Lock and the tidal Thames, a no-go area for us as we do not have a licence for that part of the river. We looked forward to this time of year with the anticipation of the better weather and plenty of cruising.

It had become a bit of a tradition on Art Deco to start the new season with a complete cruise of our area, Kingston to Oxford, a distance of 88.5 miles, it would give us a chance to familiarise ourselves with the river, towns and locks again and see what damage, if any, the winter weather had caused. Our first overnight stop would be Windsor, but before there, just above Romney lock is an EA mooring, where we stop for lunch. From the river there looks to be nothing around, but just a few meters away, hidden behind the trees is Dorney Lake, the venue for the rowing events of the 2012 Olympics. It is now owned by Eton College, has an impressive arboretum set in a nature reserve, and remarkably is open to the public. We have spent many an afternoon there wandering around the extensive reserve with its wonderful view of Windsor Castle some miles in the distance.

In Windsor we’re heading for the EA mooring opposite the castle, a small mooring just large enough for a boat of our size, which is much sought after and virtually impossible to get in the summer, but this time of year we have no problem and spent the night there. Its a good mooring, spoilt only by the aircraft coming and going into Heathrow, I swear you can almost see the crew in the cockpit. The noise is deafening but thankfully they aren’t allowed to fly at night, much to the relief of the residents, the Royal family included, although I am told that when they are in residence the planes are diverted.

Our journey next morning would take us down as far as Sunbury where again there is good mooring just the other side of the lock. Not easy to find if you’ve not been there before. On exiting the lock you have to make a 180 degree turn to the left and the mooring is on the right, opposite the boatyard. We like to overnight here, it's a quiet mooring and it will make life easy tomorrow, when we hope to moor outside Hampton Court. To get there we have to pass through Moseley lock, but before we do that we will use the facilities, take on water and dispose of our rubbish. Hampton Court moorings are just after the lock so we will moor there for a couple of days, again, a very popular mooring but we will be okay at this time of year. There is a charge but it's well worth it. Apart from the palace there is Home Park the old hunting ground of Henry VIII, a great place to spend an afternoon wondering around and spotting the deer. Kingston on Thames is a short distance from the moorings and normally we would make a visit, but we decide to start the journey up river to Oxford from here. There is not much to see beyond this point and its only a short cruise to Teddington, the end of the non-tidal Thames and our licence area.

After a couple of nights we decide its time to leave and it's a bright and sunny April morning when we set off, without a firm plan in mind, apart from getting to Oxford around the first of May. There are many favourite places along the way and we will make lots of stops, we know the best moorings and where to stock up on food, water, diesel etc. We will just 'go with the flow', not the best phrase as we will actually be going against the flow, but you know what I mean. That's the beauty of this lifestyle, compensation for the long, wet winters we have to endure. We spend our first night at the Weybridge moorings, just below Shepperton lock, there is not much to see here, so we often walked the mile or so into Weybridge town centre.

We know the area very well, in fact we spent five months stranded here during the Covid lockdown when the river was closed to traffic in 2020. Actually we were very lucky at that time. We had left the boat in a boatyard at Walton on Thames and visited family and friends back in Sheffield, but the day we arrived back the whole of the country was put into lockdown and the river closed. We had no alternative but to stay put and take advantage of the situation, negotiating a deal which allowed us to stay in the boatyard and use its facilities, including shore power! Anyone who has spent time living on a boat will know what a luxury that is, and indeed we need it more than most. Art Deco has an unusual electrical system, not powered using the usual 12volt leisure batteries as most boats are, but a 48volt system consisting of 24 x 2 volt motive power batteries, which coupled to an inverter, gives us masses of 240volt electricity. Enough to power an oven, hob, microwave, dishwasher and washing machine, plus mains plug sockets throughout the boat. As an extra bonus it means we have no need for any gas on board. We have a 12 volt circuit that powers just the cabin lights and water pumps. The beauty of the system is that we are able to have domestic appliances throughout the boat, the downside is that we needed to run the engine to charge the batteries. This is not normally a problem as we are ‘continuous cruises’, cruising most days, but lockdown was an unknown and no one had any idea how long it would last, certainly not 5 months. We considered ourselves lucky compared to what some people had to endure, we were ‘self isolated’ on board and we had Walton town centre just a short walk away with all its facilities.

We like walking, in fact we have walked most of the Thames path, not all in on go, but in stages. Whenever we moored for a few days we would explore the area, not just the riverside but inland as well. Its amazing the places you find hidden away and it was one of the most enjoyable parts of our lifestyle.

We had no desire to stay, so early the next morning we were off, planning to pass through Windsor and moor overnight at Runnymede, another favourite place of ours. There are National Trust moorings on the left bank by the meadows, and we try and spend time here whenever we are passing, but it can get very busy in the summer, so we take advantage and are moored up before lunch. In the afternoon we walk across the meadow to the Magna Carta memorial. It’s in a lovely setting surrounded, fittingly, by English Oak Trees and is a very peaceful place. But that's not the only attraction. Sitting nearby are ‘The Jurors’ by the artist Hew Locke, depicting 12 intricately sculptured chairs cast in bronze. Its very difficult to describe in words but we love it. If that wasn’t enough there is another installation about 500 meters away: ‘Writ in Water’ by Mark Wallinger and is a new memorial celebrating the signing of the Magna Carta, again difficult to describe in words, but as the title suggests, it's very reflective. Add to that the John F. Kennedy memorial and the memorial to all those killed in the service of the Royal Air Force, there is lots of culture to be seen by the river at Runnymede.

There is no hurry to set off the next morning, we have no plan just as long as we are heading up river in the direction of Oxford. We stop for lunch at Maidenhead just below the railway bridge, Brunell's iconic brick built structure that never ceases to amaze me. It seems to defy gravity, in fact when it was finished there were people who would not travel over it for fear that it would collapse. It still stands proud today, testament to Victorian ingenuity and engineering. In the afternoon we passed through Boulters lock and on to what we think is the prettiest part of the river, Cliveden reach. With open meadow on the left and steep wooded chalk hills to the right, topped by Cliveden House, it is the classic English river landscape. We have often moored on the tree lined bank below the house and walked into the gardens, there is an entrance that is never manned, but to ease our conscience we always have coffee in the National Trust cafe. Of course Cliveden will be associated by people of a certain age with the Profumo Affair of 1961 and the scandal around it with John Profumo, Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davis. Even so it is a stunning place to visit.

The next morning we set off for Henley on Thames making the short cruise up to Cookham lock. This stretch can be quite difficult if the river is running fast because of a turn sharp to left, needed to get into the lock cut. If you get it wrong you can be in serious trouble and finish up in the trees on the Cliveden side of the river, it happened to us once, so we are extra careful here. We moor by the church and have lunch and take a walk around the village before we set off for Henley, where we have a dinner invitation from Jean and James on ‘La Bouvier’, good friends who are, like us, constant cruisers. They have spent the winter in Henley, along with a few other boats we know, and they love entertaining on their large boat. There will be eight of us for dinner, and as it's the first one of the year there will be much to catch up on. We know from experience that dinner will be a full on roast with all the trimmings and plenty of good wine accompanied by a few gin and tonics. They are the perfect hosts, the drinks flow and conversation is convivial. We discuss our plans and Jean and James, along with Jan and Mike on ‘Afterglow’ decide to tag along for their first cruise of the year. I don’t like to travel in convoy, its too restricting, so we arrange to meet at Iffley lock moorings in a month's time. We would prefer to meet at Oxford where there are moorings at Osney lock, a short walk from the city centre but it's just not practical, we would struggle to moor 3 large boats on the limited moorings there. At Iffley there is a long stretch of visitor moorings and we know we would have no problem mooring all 3 boats together.

Over the following weeks we slowly make our way towards Oxford, catching up along the way with the lock keepers and hearing the latest river gossip, reacquainting ourselves with the riverside towns and villages we love so much. Staying a few nights here and there, sometimes longer if we find something particularly interesting to see or do. By early June we have reached Abingdon, a pleasant town that is very welcoming to boaters. We moor by the abbey gardens and spend 2 nights here, it's a very pleasant town and good place to replenish the larder. After a relaxing couple of days we are fully stocked and set off once again, up through Abingdon lock, where we have a good old chat with the lock keeper and volunteer, two of the friendliest people we know on the river. There are facilities here so we fill up with water and dispose of our recycling and general rubbish before heading off for our next overnight stop at Iffley lock.

We arrive at Iffley on Saturday lunchtime, ‘La Bouvier’ and ‘Afterglow’ are already there and we are able to moor in front of them. As luck would have it there is a bit of a music festival tonight, advertised as ‘A Mayday Festival’ in the field behind the pub, nothing grand, just a couple of local musicians. I quickly check the calendar on my phone, today is the 30th of April, we have arrived on the actual day we planned way back in March! It's a beautiful afternoon so Joyce decides to invite our friends on board for a buffet and a few drinks before we go to the pub. We are sat on the back of our boat chatting, drinking and eating, enjoying each others company when the music starts up, so we stroll over and join the small crowd already gathered and enjoy the music, which is mainly acoustic folk, and fits very well with the idyllic setting. The pub is unusual in the fact that it has no road access, the only way to get here is either by the towpath or river and because of this it is popular with walkers and cyclists who come down from Oxford, and of course boaters who have a good, safe stretch of moorings. The flip side is that it's impossible for delivery vans to get here, so there is no draught beer, larger or cider, it all comes in bottles, but it's a small price to pay for the atmosphere. It's defiantly a summer pub, almost all the customers sit outside and enjoy the surroundings, the inside, which could be best described as “shabby chic”, reflecting this. Never the less it's probably the best place we know on the river to while away a summer evening. We have a very pleasant time, it's a good crowd and the music is surprisingly good; every one is in a relaxed mood enjoying the perfect combination of weather and location. We chat to fellow boaters and locals alike, everyone is very friendly and welcoming, not like some pubs on the river that seem to view boaters as a lower class, the phrase ‘water gypsies’ often heard, but not here.

The music finishes around 10.30, and folks start drifting away, our little party included. As usual we discuss whose boat to go back to for a night cap but decide instead to make an early start in the morning for Oxford, reasoning that if we reach the moorings at Osney by mid-morning there is a chance we will all get moored. Its a fact that our lifestyle, spent mainly outdoors, and maybe also our age, means we are always glad to get to our beds, usually well before midnight, and indeed tonight is no exception. We bid goodnight to our friends and step aboard Art Deco, open the back doors and reach for the light switch just inside, press, and nothing happens, the fuse must have blown. It's dark on the towpath, but we have left a 240 volt light on in the saloon at the front of the boat so I am able to see enough to find a torch. We have a 240 volt mirror in the bathroom and also bedside lamps in the sleeping cabin so I decide to sort out the cabin lights in morning, it will be easier in the daylight.

Joyce gets ready for bed while I take the torch and go back outside to check that the mooring ropes are secure and everything is shipshape and Bristol fashion. I like to have a walk around before locking up for the night, a habit formed when we were on the canals in and around London. The whole atmosphere there was different to the Thames, more ‘edgy’ and the towpath could get busy in the evenings. It's very quiet here though, not surprising, given its remote location, the pub is closed and all the revellers have long since gone. In fact it''s a lovely evening so I sit on the back deck and enjoy the moment. There is a mist beginning to form, the moon is full and the stars, twinkling in the heavens, giving an almost magical quality to the night. I find myself reflecting on the coming day, Mayday, a festival that has fascinated me ever since I first saw the ‘Wicker Man’ film some 40 odd years ago. In pagan times it was seen as a time of death and rebirth; death of the cold dark winter and rebirth of spring, mother nature waking from her deep sleep. I think about our lifestyle and how similar it is to the natural world, we are metaphorically waking up from our winter confinement and looking forward to spring and the better weather. It's so quiet and peaceful, just the occasional call of an owl or the ‘plop’ of something entering the river, a swan glides past, closely followed by 4 cygnets, no doubt looking for a safe place to roost for the night. I need to go to roost too so I take one last look around, thinking how lucky we are to be here at this moment in time, climb down into the boat and lock the doors for the night.

Joyce is already in bed and I soon join her and begin to drift off as soon as my head hits the pillow. I am at the point where I’m not fully awake nor fast asleep, when Joyce shakes me quite violently and whispers: Dave, Dave wake up, there’s someone on the boat. I am quickly awake and lay for a few seconds before I hear the noise that’s frightened Joyce, a loud metallic rattle and realise that something or someone is at the back doors. It stops suddenly and all is quiet, just the sound of Joyce’s heavy breathing. The adrenaline kicks in and I am out of bed in a flash, out into the galley and hit the light switch, nothing, and immediately remember the blown fuse. I’m quickly up the back steps, unlock the doors and throw them open without a second thought. What greets me is a complete surprise, a figure calmly sat on the rear deck, hands folded on the knees, looking directly into my eyes. For a moment I stand there transfixed, trying to process what I’m seeing. A hooded woman dressed in black, not old, but not young, with a kind smiling face, and piercing stare. She lifts her hands and offers them to me, saying in a clear voice: “would you like some scones?”. For a moment I’m confused, not knowing if or how to reply, so in panic I just shout no! and slam the doors closed. I stand on the steps trying to make sense of what’s happening, eventually coming to my senses, I feel I should engage with her, but on opening the doors find she’s gone. I quickly climb on to the back deck but there's no one there. I look up and down the towpath but there’s not a soul in sight. From the deck I have an elevated view and can see a good way, about 100 metres in each direction, the moon is full, giving off just enough light, and the mist just hangs over the river, but there's no one in sight. Anyone familiar with Iffley lock will know the towpath is dead straight in each direction with no paths leading on or off, quite simply the lady has vanished. This is very weird, it can have only been a matter of seconds from closing the doors to opening them again, no time for anyone to even climb off the boat. I go back to join Joyce in the cabin and immediately she asks who it was that I was talking to. I explain to her the events and say that I must have imagined it, but says she distinctly heard a female voice talking to me. Both of us are very confused, if only I hadn’t panicked but had gone and sat and talked to her, we are sure there would have been a rational reason for her being on our boat, but maybe she knew what my reaction would be. We talk about it for a while, and I wonder if my fascination with Mayday has any significance, but we dismiss that, there is nothing to be done and we are tired so we drift off to sleep.

In the light of day we still have no logical answer, but decide to put it to one side and get on with the day. We meet up with our friends, and relate the nights events. It's soon dismissed by them as a figment of my imagination fuelled by alcohol, so we let it go, but Joyce and myself know better. They plan to turn around and head down river but we decide to cruise up to Oxford and stay overnight at Osney lock. We like the city, the architecture is stunning, ‘the city of dreaming spires’ is an apt description and it's so vibrant, helped no doubt by the students and tourists, a pleasant change after the quiet villages and towns down river. We get a space at Osney, just above the lock, get the boat moored up and have lunch before walking the short distance in to the city, spending the afternoon soaking up the atmosphere. I’m in daydream mode walking round, it’s impossible to visit Oxford without thinking of Inspector Morse, but its more than that, I can’t get the image of the hooded lady and last night's events out of my mind. What’s troubling me most is I think she spoke again just as I slammed shut the doors, it’s been praying on my mind all day. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that I heard her shout “leave this boat” or words to that effect. The strange thing though is that we have been having conversations over the last month or so about selling the boat and moving back on to dry land.

We have had 7 great years with Art Deco, we conceived, designed and commissioned her and I was involved at every stage, from the shell being delivered to her launch on the Grand Union canal at Watford. The problem is that we are not getting any younger and we want to choose when to leave, rather than waiting for the time when we have to leave. Added to that we have our first grandchild back up north and we want to be involved and see her grow up. I can’t help wondering if last night’s event, either real or imaginary, was a warning, fate intervening to help us decide our future.

We stay a couple more nights on the mooring at Osney, we want to sample the delights of the Perch, a well known watering hole about a mile upstream, a lovely walk by the river. It’s one of our favourite pubs, and features in a few Morse episodes. The beer is good, by southern standards anyway, and they do a great lunch, served, if the weather's right, in the garden overlooking the river. Conversation inevitably falls on the hooded lady, but the more we talk about it, the less it seems to make sense. We decide the best course of action is to forget the whole thing. We vow never again to discuss it between ourselves, and to this day we have kept that vow. Not that others have done the same though. Over the next few weeks as we cruise down river we are teased extensively, especially by the lock keepers who know us. It seems our friends have been talking, taking every opportunity to tell the tale, no doubt elaborating and expanding at each telling. It soon becomes clear that everyone on the river knows the story, because thats what it has become, a story, not just any story but a ghost story. A strange tale of an elderly couple who had too much to drink one night and saw a ghost. We take it all in good spirit, pardon the pun, and laugh along, but we know the truth, and to this day I know what I saw and heard that night, I did not imagine it, it was real.

Over the following weeks, as we slowly make our way down river, I can’t forget the night at Iffley lock, although I try hard to put it out of my mind. I would go days not thinking about it, but suddenly, for no reason, it would jump into my mind and I get a chill run down my spine. Could the hooded lady be somehow haunting me, not manifesting herself in person, but getting to me through my subconscious, haunting my mind. I dwell on the last words I heard her say “leave this boat” they go round and round in my head, like when you hear a song on the radio with a catchy chorus and you're humming it for the rest of the day. Of course I don’t mention any of this to Joyce, as far as she is concerned its forgotten, and I want to keep it that way. The whole incident seems personal, something only between me and the hooded lady, almost like an illicit affair you want to keep secret. I like to think that I’m normally a very rational, level headed person, but I have to admit the whole thing is getting to me; it's becoming an obsession and I think the only way to end it is to give the hooded lady exactly what she wants, for me to leave the boat.

We carry on our discussions about selling the boat and after weighing up the pros and cons decide that the time has come. Apart from what I mentioned earlier, other factors seem to be pointing us in that direction. In the five years we have been cruising the Thames, river life has changed considerably, and not for the better. The funding that the Environment Agency gets for maintenance of the river and its facilities has been cut to the bone. Consequently that shortfall has to be replaced and it falls to boaters to do that. The licence fee has increased and the facilities are not maintained, so when something breaks down it is not fixed. The number of lock keepers has dropped, when we first came onto the river virtually every lock was manned, sadly that is not the case now. The river does not feel as friendly a place anymore and we think it's time to go.

We contact a brokerage in the Reading area and make plans for the sale of Art Deco, and prepare to become ‘landlubbers’ once again, a sad time for both of us, but we knew when we started on this adventure it would not be forever. We agree to have the boat onto the sales mooring by September, giving us a month or so of cruising and time to say goodbye to everyone we have met on the river, be it lock keepers or fellow boaters. It's fitting that we should spend the last weeks aboard Art Deco retracing our well known steps, heading down river to Hampton Court, then back to Oxford before leaving her for one last time at Reading. This way we will see as many friends as is possible and share a few drinks with them for one last time and say goodbye.

It's a couple of days into our final cruise when I realise I have not thought about the hooded lady, not once has she entered my mind, the first time it has happened since that fateful night at Iffley lock some four months ago. Has the ghost finally been exorcised, has she achieved her goal? For some unknown reason I think she has. I have a feeling that a large heavy load has been lifted off my shoulders, my spirt has lightened and I am looking forward to the future and a new chapter in our life. Little did I know that the next chapter would be more life changing than the last.

On the morning of March 18th 2023, after eighteen months on dry land I suffered a stroke while at home in Sheffield. I was rushed into the Royal Hallamshire hospital in the city by emergency ambulance. Fortunately the hospital was able to perform a procedure that dissolves the blood clot and I was spared the full effects of the stroke. I say fortunately because not all hospitals have the specialist equipment or clinical staff to carry out the procedure, which has to be completed within an hour of the event happening. Had I been on Art Deco, it would have been impossible to do so within the time frame, given the remote locations we often found ourselves in. Due to the experienced hospital team who treated me and the subsequent rehabilitation, the effects I suffered are limited.

I like to think that the hooded lady helped me ‘to dodge a bullet’ so as to speak.