Chain DipperPosted: April 27, 2014
Yesterday was mostly about buying a very expensive chicken, moving a couple of miles and drying out everything from the day before. Moored up where we once heard bongos, the wind whipped through the boat putting right the aftermath of our soaking. In under the step, the water pump looked a bit damp too, a teeny leak was soon sorted by tightening a few screws – any sign of water tank water in the wrong place gets our hearts racing since the big flood.
This morning we wound round endless fields of rape, under pretty bridges and down through Caluctt locks. Lunch and ‘big’ football was followed by a canal dip for Nick. You learn by your mistakes on this boat, he who drops the mooring chain gets in to fish it back out. We’re down to the last two. It took a while, apparently the bottom was pretty mushy and judging by the gunk stuck to the chain when it eventually appeared, pretty grim. An unexpected Sunday roast dining show for the couple on the boat next door. Nice. Lucky lady.
Moved on before dropping down through Stockton Locks, a few locks in and the chase began. An army of energetic lock setters sent out from a boat way back were snapping at our heals. Never one to turn down a challenge, Nick popped over gates, legged it between locks, wounds paddles like his life depended on it. The ferocious pace meant it wasn’t long before we landed in Long Itchington. Busy moorings and busy pub.