Water water everywhere

So we seem to have had the driest couple of days on the Kennet and Avon, while the rest of the country seems to have had the wettest. I have to admit feeling a little cheated when hearing  of torrential monsoon like showers, when all around us the skies were heavy and grey, it was unbelievably humid, and the storms never really got off the ground, apart from a bit of lightning. I did manage a swim in the river which was deliciously cold enough to chill the blood,  but it really was  very very hot on the water 

At this time of year the canal is full of ducklings, impossibly sweet with their little fuzzy heads and frantic peeping. I was constantly on the lookout for an orphan to adopt and bring home ( though getting this past the Captain would have been challenging). The banks are brimming with yellow irises, water mint, purple thistles, cow parsley and mounds of grasses which reminded me of a scene from one of the Babar  books. The swifts are in full force swooping for flies and vibrant blue dragonflies perch on the railings as we trundled past and it really is very beautiful indeed. 

On the second day we ended up going through the locks with a couple we named Peter Perfect and Penelope Pitstop. Its always quicker to go through locks with another boat and makes for a pleasant bit of a natter and chit chat as you wait for the levels to  change so the gates can be opened. Often you happen upon people who you can have a laugh with and you do meet some very interesting fellow boaters en route of all ages and types, some who live on their boats full time, some like us who move every two weeks, and others who have hired a boat for a holiday. It’s also a great way to find out what is going on in boat world and ideal for someone like me who is always up for a bit of a gossip. 

Peter Perfect and Penelpoe Pitstop were of the smarter boating variety, all brass and gadgets,  and they wore matching gloves,  with Penelope sporting a pair of safety goggles. Their boat was polished and shiny and even had air conditioning. The only comment they could think of in praise of Rusty B was that they liked our ropes ( which indeed are rather splendid, bright red and new, though their newness does rather emphasises the oldness of everything else). We were secretly relieved when they moored up in order to do some shopping and we made our way onwards without them 

As we get nearer to Reading and towards the start of the Thames,  the canal merges with the river,  causing very strong currents and at one point we had to be very careful because one false move, or engine failure, would have meant being swept down the weir that went off to one side of the river. A half sunk boat was a reminder of how powerful the torrent of water is. As we approached this particular stretch we passed a boat which had a chicken house on the top, with several happy lookingchickens  pecking about inside. Well you can imagine the conversation that followed. All I can say is it ended in a very loud very firm ‘NO’. Though to be honest, although  they looked fine, keeping chickens on anything other than grass/earth/dirt isn’t great for them in the long run, but anyway those of you who know me are no doubt aware that this is not the end of the chickens on boats conversation..

We ended up going further than originally planned,but this is the joy of boating. You can’t ever be in a rush so you may as well just go with the flow if you’ll pardon the expression. A lot of  each days journey depends on where we can leave the car and how far I feel like cycling down the tow path to meet the boat, but yesterday everything fell into place and we just carried on. Until we went through a swing bridge ( which is always quite exciting when they are electric ones and you put a key in and barriers come up across the road with sirens blaring and the traffic has to wait until the bridge swivels open, then shut). I left the keys in the lock , a fact that I only realised when we were off again. T attempted to reverse  so we could tie up again and I could retrieve them. Unfortunately at this moment the gear box decided to break and the current forced us across the river and straight into a large wide beam that was moored on the other side with a loud bang. We then floated along trying to steer the nose of the boat into the bank,  until we got near enough for T to jump off into the knee high grasses and nettles as between us we managed to pull the boat in . At this point ( obviously) it began to pour with rain.

So once again Rusty B is indisposed and awaiting the arrival of T’s  trusty boat mechanic,  who no doubt had no idea how well acquainted he would become with us in such a short period of time. But as we said last night, as we laughed and trawled through the internet looking for a taxi to take us back to the car, things could always have been worse. Rusty B will live to fight another day and we will be back on the water soon, of that there is absolutely no doubt.