Life Afloat

I moored near Hampton Court Palace for a few days, on the other side of the Thames in East Molesey. It’s a charming, old-fashioned place with small cafes and antique shops.

When I went to leave I found I couldn’t. The water level must have dropped slightly and Bristol Fashion was stuck on the bottom of the river. I got the barge pole out and tried to shove her off from the bank; I ran the engine in forwards and reverse; I tried rocking the boat: nothing worked.

So I walked up to the nearby lock and asked the crew of a narrowboat called Tree Pipit for help. They drove their boat in front of mine and attached a rope from their bow to my bow. Then they put their boat into reverse and after a few stalled attempts, dragged mine back out into the deeper water. That’s Tree Pipit in the photo, cheers!

Bristol Fashion is at Tim Barfield’s marina again, opposite Tagg’s Island, being repaired.

Lately I’ve had a lot of water in the bilge and I asked the boatyard to find out where it was coming from. It turns out that a pressure valve is broken. That probably explains why water pumps mysteriously turn themselves on at night for a few seconds, waking me up. Water has been overflowing under pressure into the bilge. Aside from replacing the valve I’ve had a hole cut through the steel under the gunwhale so that the overflow pipe now sends water flowing outside the boat rather than flooding inside it. That seems to have fixed the problem.

I also finally had the top half of the galley window replaced, it was vandalised months ago while in Paddington Basin. To save money I chose perspex rather than toughened glass.

I’ve been happy with the service and enjoyed staying here in this very attractive setting while waiting for the work to be completed – but then I haven’t had the bill yet!

I live alone on my boat and I mostly travel alone. That brings with it particular difficulties and other boaters, passers-by and lock keepers often offer me help when they realise I’m going solo. Many times I politely decline, particularly in locks and particularly if they are non-boaters, because sometimes their assistance is more hassle than it’s worth and if they don’t follow instructions, their actions can even be dangerous.

If I’m mooring in a shallow area or the wind’s blowing the boat away from the towpath then I often shout out to a passerby to ask them to help haul me in. I throw the rope beside, never at them and ask them not to pull hard but to gently lean back and haul me in slowly.

I don’t ask non-boaters to push the bow out when I cast off because some daredevils lean way too far over and I don’t want them falling in.

I’m most appreciative of help when I’m stuck in shallows and another boater is around with a boat pole to push me away from the bank while I rev the engine.

Helpful lock keepers (and so far I’ve only met helpful ones) are always welcome and they know what they’re doing. If they tell me to do something then I don’t question it. I’ve found that when going solo through locks on the Thames, the following routine works well for me:

1.
While waiting for the lock to open I tie the boat up to a bollard using the midline and keep an eye on it. Many boats leave the lock faster than they ought to and their wash can cause my boat to rock and drift. While waiting, I get the stern and bow ropes ready for use.

2.
I bring the boat into the lock as slowly as possible, remembering that putting her in reverse when next to the lock wall can cause the stern to move out.

3.
The engine has to be shut off while in the lock and I do that before I step out of the cabin.

4.
I walk round the gunwhale to the middle of the boat and, if I’m still a few feet away from the edge, throw the midline over a bollard and haul the boat to the side before stepping off.

5.
Temporarily I keep the midline tied loosely around the bollard while I walk to the front and rear of the boat and put the bow and stern ropes around bollards (not looping or tying them, that could cause an accident as the water level changed) . I then untie the midline, hold the ends of the bow and stern ropes and step onto the roof of the boat.

6.
Now, as the lock keeper operates the sluices and the water level rises or falls, while stood on top of the boat I can pull lightly on either rope to keep from drifting into the boat next to mine.

7.
Once the gate opens I coil up the (first bow, then stern) ropes, push the front of the boat away from the side of the lock, step back in the cabin, start the engine and move out slowly.

8.
I wave and say thanks to the lock keeper.

Recently I had a close call. One evening when the lock keeper was off-duty (they knock off at 7pm) I went through a lock on my own and as the water level rose a rope caught fast on a bollard. The boat tipped over to an angle I never want to see her at again but I stayed calm and emptied the lock as fast as I could. Half the cupboards had emptied of their contents but no other damage was done.

Thanks to Simon Robinson (on a boat called Bristol) for sending me this photo of Bristol Fashion. At the time I was driving round looking for somewhere to moor in crowded Windsor. I’d just got stuck in the shallows on the opposite bank and had to ask another boater to give me a push off with a barge pole.

Bristol was built in 1935 for GUCCCo., bought by Willow Wren and renamed Dipper, bought by Black Prince and converted to a hire boat while its name reverted to Bristol. Wonderful what you can find out if you google people, especially if they’re listed on the Internet Boaters database! Simon lists his special interests as “getting un-stuck mostly”. I know how he feels.

On the canals, if you choose to continuously cruise, you can stay almost anywhere for free for up to two weeks at a time. On the Thames it’s very different.

There are occasional free public mooring places but they are for 24 hour stays only and are few and far between. Almost everywhere charges a mooring fee. In Windsor, where I’m currently moored, it’s four pounds a night. On one side of the river the leisure centre takes payment, on the other side Eton College takes your money. In Maidenhead it’s eight pounds a night and the local council collects it. And that’s just to stay there, don’t expect electricity, mooring rings or even a straight bit of towpath to moor against. Is Maidenhead really worth twice as much as Windsor? Since Windsor is so crowded with boats and it’s hard to find a mooring there, shouldn’t it be the other way round?

I put the boat in Reading’s Better Boating marina recently so it would be safe while I went to the Big Green Gathering festival. It cost about ten quid a night and that didn’t even include an electrical hookup. Nice location on an island though with the added charm of having to take a rowing boat out to reach the boat.

Money is the main reason I’m going to have to leave the Thames and return to the canals soon. The Thames has been a fantastic place to live for a couple of months, an experience I’ll never forget, but I just can’t afford it any more. I’m broke!

The first time I drove past Temple Island, several weeks ago on the way to Henley, it was early morning and so foggy I could barely see the banks of the river. The thick bank of fog ended abrupty at the Island, a quite dramatic sight.

Last Saturday night, headed in the other direction, I moored near to Temple Island for the night. This time it was a clear sky and I realised that this is one of the most perfect places on the Thames, with fine views all around, sheep grazing and a perfect place for a picnic.

Attending a music festival by boat transforms the experience. No queuing for toilets or showers, sitting in a tent in the rain or cooking on wonky calor stoves. This year I took my home afloat to Womad (world music and dance) Festival at Reading and moored right outside the venue. There was a long row of boats moored along the bank, including many narrowboats who’d travelled from Oxford, London and the Kennet and Avon.

I threw a rope ladder over the side of Bristol Fashion so I could easily get in and out of the water and went for my first swim in the Thames. On a hot day it was lovely, the water was clear and the weeds tickled my feet. There were a lot of other swimmers around. A couple of ladies asked if they could use my rope ladder to get in and out. They were rather large ladies but I didn’t want to say no, so stupidly I said yes, and one of them snapped the ladder in two.

A helicopter flew low overhead every day to land on the opposite bank, churning up the water, turning neatly on the spot to fit onto a landing pad in between two houses. Yes, Thames-side properties are a bit on the expensive side.

Didn’t spend much time in the actual festival. It was more fun to just sit on top of the boat with a cold beer and watch the world go by.

Coming up to Caversham Lock I drove past a man who’s swimming the whole length of the Thames, from source to sea.

Lewis Pugh started on 17th July near Cirencester and his destination was Southend Pier. He had already been through Oxford and Reading and had Henley-on-Thames, Windsor, London and Greenwich ahead when I passed him. He had a support team on a narrowboat following him.

He completed his record breaking swim of 203 miles in 21 days. Read about it here.