After the excitement of the opening weekend I fetched my pair of little orange boxes into the museum basin and took up residence. The museum boats were all moved away from the accessible bank and tied around the island warehouse for safety from vandals. Initially the museum was only open at weekends. I hadn’t really considered what a big voluntary task I’d taken on. There was no fence around the site and it was regarded as a public footpath. Most of the boats leaked and had to be pumped out regularly. I was working full time and had Lilith to finish rebuilding.

I don’t recall how I first met Dave and Al. They had just left school and, like most school leavers in those days in that part of the world, signed on the dole. They both wanted to escape from their respective parental homes, but didn’t have the means. They jumped at the chance of moving into an old boat and helping me to look after the museum. Dave occupied the Yorkshire keel Ethel and Al took up residence on board the Mersey Flat Mossdale.

Meals were taken aboard my floating chicken hutch, Mosquito, and mostly comprised dubious stews cooked on my little paraffin stove.

Although Dave and Al were long term friends there was constant tension between them. Al was quite tall and good looking. Dave was witty, in a slightly lugubrious and self deprecating way. Much of the bickering was connected to Al’s determination to outdo Giacomo Cassanova in his amorous conquests, and his delight in bragging about it. His dalliances frequently took him away to spend time with various ladies, which left the burden of boat pumping to me and Dave.

One of the odd things is that, though Mossdale and Ethel generally didn’t leak much, as soon as a resident went away, that person’s boat would sink.

I struck a deal with Dave, who had excelled at school woodwork. If he helped me to fit out Lilith I would give him Mosquito. We started gathering old pallets to break up for material.

Animals began to appear, mostly connected to another school leaver called Malcolm. His name was usually abbreviated to Mal, but then often, rather cruelly, extended again. I think it was Mal who brought us a rabbit that ran about in Lilith’s hold for a while. We referred to it as the guard rabbit, until it was stolen. A similar fate befell Butty, a rather plump black and white cat that Mal supplied in order to deal with a rat problem. She had no effect on the rats but had the unfortunate misunderstanding that cabin bilges were put there to act as litter trays.

It was the famously hot summer of 1976. Extremes of weather are not good for wooden boats, and constant heat causes their planks to shrink, potentially opening up leaks. We tested electric bilge pumps to destruction and were constantly charging batteries to run them.

We worked out an alternative method of draining bilges. The only building in use then was the Toll House. In its basement, at a lower level than the basin, was a tap. From somwhere we acquired a long length of alkathene water pipe, which reached all the way from the tap to the bilges of the nearest boats, usually George and Scorpio, the two Leeds & Liverpool boats, notorious leakers. If you put one end of the pipe in the deepest part of the bilge, and the other end on the tap you could fill the pipe with water. Once removed from the tap the water would run back and syphon out the bilgewater.

Just round the corner from the museum there was a night club over a garage. One hot summer’s night I was woken in the early hours by the sounds of shouting and splashing. I went out to investigate and found that the top wide lock was full of drunken revellers, with others on the sides encouraging their antics. They had all gone to cool off after a night of drinking and dancing. This became quite a regular occurrence through the heat wave, especially on Saturday nights. Happily, no-one drowned.

The government appointed Denis Howell as minister of drought. Indians in Leicester performed a rain dance, and achieved just a few spots. The Thames began to be pumped backwards and most of the canal system shut down. Not until October did the rains come, and they came with a vengeance. The cabins on Mossdale and Ethel were underneath planked decks, which had shrunk drastically. The water poured in all over Dave and Al’s bedding and possessions.
Al moved on to pursue further education in Rotherham. Dave completed Lilith’s cabin so I gave him Mosquito. He made a nice job of rebuilding its cabin then took up a woodworking job in the Midlands. He sold the boat to his successor as museum guard, who abandoned it.

Mal left to work on the gravel boats on the River Soar. Decades later, using a slightly different name, he contacted me via Facebook and offered to move to Ashton to volunteer for the WCBS. He’d just retired from a career putting on puppet shows at holiday camps. Unfortunately he then suffered a series of health problems before his Facebook account became inactive.

The last I saw of Mosquito she was sunk in the covered arm. Mossdale is now preserved as a dry exhibit. Ethel was broken up in 1985 as the museum didn’t have the resources to restore her. Lilith is at Portland Basin awaiting attention after over 40 years of further service.

If you’d like to help getting Lilith and other historic boats restored and working for the community contact the Wooden Canal Boat Society or phone 07931 952 037