Life Afloat

I moored Bristol Fashion near the Horse and Barge pub in Denham, overlooking Harefield Marina. Because I was having trouble mooring in shallow water, a chap helped me pull the boat in. We chatted and he told me a story I’d heard somewhere before.

He said that there were fewer swans around these days because a group of Lithuanians were catching them and cooking them on a fire in the nearby woods. In particular one swan was missing, the one that’s always picking a fight with the geese.

This rang some bells so I looked it up. In July 2003 the Sun put a similar story on its front page under the headline “SWAN BAKE Asylum seekers steal the Queen’s birds for barbecues”. The Sun said that the Metropolitan Police had put this in an official report. Of course it was a made-up story; there was no such police statement and a statement from a swan sanctuary was embellished by a journalist. This story, with untrue and presumably racist foundations, was not properly retracted or apologised for by the Sun, and has now become a persistent urban myth.

The next day I saw a swan giving noisy chase to two geese. He’s safe then.

There are some confessed swan eaters out there. The BBC in March 2005 reported that Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, Master of the Queen’s Music, cooked a swan that had died when it hit power lines. He was quoted as saying: “I had to give a statement. I offered them coffee and asked them if they would like to try some swan terrine but I think they were rather horrified. That was a mistake, wasn’t it?

I’m now living in Brentford in what has become a rather fashionable place to be. Brand new apartments costing half a million overlook the canal. The new pontoon moorings beneath the apartments are starting to fill up with boats and there are decent BW facilities for passing boaters. It’s long been a favourite area of mine to go walking, to where the Grand Union meets the Thames and then along the river to Hammersmith or Kew. I could get a bit comfy here.

There was a waterways festival at Brentford Lock on Saturday. Hillingdon Narrowboat Trust were giving boat rides and the BW patrol boat and the IWA were all present and correct. There was a small farmers market selling excellent smoked salmon pate, quiche and game pies. Unfortunately it tipped down with rain and I’m sure that kept a lot of people away.

On the way down to Brentford I went through several of the locks at Hanwell with the patrol boat – and was politely told off for leaving a gate open. Sorry! Here’s a photo of them putting a warning on an unlicenced cruiser.

On Saturday evening a cruise boat and its crew were donated to enable the Ectopic Pregnancy Trust’s families, friends and supporters to spend an evening sailing down the river Thames. The boat travelled from Richmond to Hampton Court Palace and back again and as the Trust’s website designer I was invited to join the cruise.

Arthur the boat’s pilot let me steer for a while and whilst I enjoyed the experience, the boat was so responsive that it rather took the fun out of it: I’m used to driving a boat that needs almost constant adjustment of the wheel.

I saw quite a few narrowboats, including some that I’d passed recently on the canals. I’ve been feeling too nervous to venture out onto the Thames in my flat-bottomed narrowboat so I took the opportunity to check out the territory. It’s not possible to moor just anywhere for the night as you can do on the canals, and it can be some distance between suitable stops. Arthur pointed out places like above Teddington Lock and at Hampton Court where I could safely moor a boat and advised me to check the tides before venturing onto the river. Bristol Fashion needs a chain and rope attached to the anchor before going on the river but apart from that she’s ready to go. As soon as her owner gets braver.

On a short, cold wet winter’s day, while out driving, I might have passed only one or two other boats all day. But now the canals are fairly buzzing with narrowboats, swans are busy building nests, families are walking the towpaths and the anglers are back in force (although the spring sun doesn’t seem to have made them any cheerier).

The long evenings really help. I can leave work, travel back to wherever I left the boat, and still have several hours left in which to drive her. So the other evening I set out on a short trip from Uxbridge to Denham; yesterday I travelled to the Coy Carp pub in Harefield; and tonight I ended up in Rickmansworth. And what a great and varied stretch of the Grand Union this is. I’d love to show you just how wonderful the sights are (wide open lakes beside the canal, sunset at Black Jack’s lock, horses bathing in a nearby field, tall reeds growing in a nature reserve, a swan fighting two geese) but unfortunately I dropped my camera in the canal as I moored the boat. Oh well, easy come, easy go.

I considered staying on for the canal festival this weekend in Rickmansworth but I feel those itchy feet are telling me to keep moving on. So off to Brentford I’ll go.

A year ago today, before looking for a boat of my own, I went on a two-day course to get an Inland Waterways Helmsman’s Certificate.

Although I’ve wanted to own a narrowboat for half my life, I’d never actually been on one so it seemed sensible to learn how to drive properly and safely. There is no such thing as a driving licence for a boat, anyone can just jump on and drive off without a competency test or even any instruction. I’d seen enough holiday boaters ramming into locks, driving at full speed past moored boats and generally winding up the other boaters to know that I needed proper instruction.

I signed up for a course with an instructor I’d heard good things about. I won’t mention the name of the company but some of you may be able to guess who I’m referring to. The instruction was very good and I often recall the valuable lessons learnt on that weekend. The boat on the other hand was a tip. Dog hair and dirt everywhere, the boat looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in months if not years, and the impression it gave was awful. Worse, I’d arranged to stay on the boat overnight and when it rained, water dripped on my head and onto the grubby bedcovers. Even worse, it was my birthday.

That said, the training helped a lot and whilst I’m not yet the perfect driver (apologies to the chap I bumped into the other week at Bull’s Bridge) I’m not as bad as I might have been.

I’d recommend anyone to take the course. The RYA website has a list of training centres. Just ask a few questions about basic hygiene first!