Christmas Carols are getting less predictable. Trendy new ones substitute traditional old(e) ones. Classic arrangements get upstaged by the avant-garde. TV Carols, on the other hand, are completely predictable. You can guarantee that Carol Vorderman will solve that maths problem quicker than you can say “detox”. And you can guarantee that Carol Kirkwood, no matter what meteorological disasters she informs you of, will do so with the brightest smile on the breakfast show. It’s worthwhile having a really complicated weather system (the stormy details of which therefore need a long time to expound) just to get a double dose of the pleasure with which she notifies you of your impending doom, even if her “Good morning” doesn’t take quite as many seconds now as when she first started showing us what a breath of fresh air really meant.
If only the actual content of the weather forecasts was as reliable. We’re planning a visit to Great Haywood for this Saturday. The first good clean of the Erin Mae’s living space, and the transfer of a deal of domestic equipment ready for spending some quality time with this latest addition to the family. Possibly even our first saunter out of the marina – an experimental cruise down to Tixall Wide and back would be brilliant! So what’s the weather going to be like? Will we just look at rain through the windows? Will the wind prevent us getting safely out and back? Accuweather.com – now there’s a name. 15 day forecasts, and they know about Great Haywood. Oh – 11 hours of rain predicted and a wind gusting to 25 knots. Not so good. Check again today. Now it’s just occasional rain and drizzle, for only 4 hours. Go to the BBC – they aren’t acquainted with Great Haywood, it seems, but they know about Stafford and Rugeley. Just white cloud for Rugeley, light rain for Stafford. Well, it’s all a bit more promising than yesterday’s Accuweather forecast, but who knows what it will actually be like?
So we’ll report back after the event. Assuming we get there, of course. No accidents on the way. No last minute change of plan. Nothing untoward to make people think we didn’t keep our word. For this Saturday, we’re aiming at a minimum of 50% predictability.
Monday, 7 March 2011
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
St David's Day – Licensed at last
So finally we're legal. If, that is, we were in a position to travel to Great Haywood, get everything ready for cruising, summon our courage, manage the marina maze and manoeuvre out through the entrance on to water owned by BW, without causing permanent damage to our boat, someone else's boat or the local ecosystem.
What I really mean is – I sent the fee to BW and they haven't yet returned it as being the wrong amount, or for some error on the application form. Mind you, they haven't sent me the licence yet either. Well, it seems from the blogs that waiting for a licence is a fairly normal part of a boater's life.
But now that the cruising part of this adventure has come upon us, at least in theory, I'm nervous. The engine switch and tiller are the least of my concerns. I don't yet have a sensible checklist of must-have equipment, but in my imagination it grows daily. It's both comforting and scary to visit the boating forums – they're filled with the friendliest people, who all seem to be intimately acquainted with the skeg and quite happy to weld a piece of tubing where it's needed. I'm a weird mixture of the impetuous (we decided on the Erin Mae in an hour) and the pernickety-cautious (analysing all the reasons not to do something). If something goes wrong with a house, at least you're not usually drifting towards a weir or getting claustrophobic and deisel-fumed 300 metres into a tunnel!
So I think we'll sign up for an Inland Waterway Helmsman's Certificate course. Anyone who knows a good place to do one is welcome to leave a comment. As is anyone who remembers how they felt on the run up to their first trip in their own boat.
What I really mean is – I sent the fee to BW and they haven't yet returned it as being the wrong amount, or for some error on the application form. Mind you, they haven't sent me the licence yet either. Well, it seems from the blogs that waiting for a licence is a fairly normal part of a boater's life.
But now that the cruising part of this adventure has come upon us, at least in theory, I'm nervous. The engine switch and tiller are the least of my concerns. I don't yet have a sensible checklist of must-have equipment, but in my imagination it grows daily. It's both comforting and scary to visit the boating forums – they're filled with the friendliest people, who all seem to be intimately acquainted with the skeg and quite happy to weld a piece of tubing where it's needed. I'm a weird mixture of the impetuous (we decided on the Erin Mae in an hour) and the pernickety-cautious (analysing all the reasons not to do something). If something goes wrong with a house, at least you're not usually drifting towards a weir or getting claustrophobic and deisel-fumed 300 metres into a tunnel!
So I think we'll sign up for an Inland Waterway Helmsman's Certificate course. Anyone who knows a good place to do one is welcome to leave a comment. As is anyone who remembers how they felt on the run up to their first trip in their own boat.
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Dependent children
Yesterday I needed to fix the support for the tonneau cover on the Erin Mae, to ensure rainwater drained off it properly, so I'd come equipped with bits of wood and a saw and some old guy rope. It was an awkward, physical task, with the cover very taut and unyielding between its press-studs. Eventually, as the afternoon grew gloomy, I crouched underneath inspecting my jerry-rigged handiwork and thought about some friends for whom a challenge like this might be a source of joy in the doing, not just the completing. Roger on NB Maggie May sprang to mind. If he'd been around, I would probably have asked him for some ideas (and muscle, and time, and well-honed expertise in the way things work). It's funny the things I'll ask help with and the things I won't. Today we were talking about which characteristics of children are good to hold on to, and dependence came up. You want your kids to become independent, but you still love it when, as adults, they come to you for advice – too much independence equals pigheadedness. I wouldn't want to be labelled childish, but I'd settle for being child-like sometimes.
Unfortunately, Roger wasn't there.
Unfortunately, Roger wasn't there.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Norway
Looking at the weather across much of England this weekend, we were glad to be on a visit to the grandchildren (and their parents, of course) in Oslo. The cold is crisp and deep and even at minus 10 fairly tolerable, especially with wool against the skin down to the toes.
It turned out to be party day today – an 8 year old having his class and their families for fun on the snow and ice. Everybody, Norwegian style, brought their frankfurters to cook on the BBQ and eat in potato pancake wraps. So we all went along, except for 6 year old Sam, whose friend was having a pony-riding party – games in the saddle for all the kids, even those who'd never been in one before.
It turned out to be party day today – an 8 year old having his class and their families for fun on the snow and ice. Everybody, Norwegian style, brought their frankfurters to cook on the BBQ and eat in potato pancake wraps. So we all went along, except for 6 year old Sam, whose friend was having a pony-riding party – games in the saddle for all the kids, even those who'd never been in one before.
Norwegians really know how to do snow!
Sunday, 13 February 2011
Hats
“Have you got one of those hats with ‘Captain’ on the front?” He wasn't the first to ask, and it’s a bit worrying. Do they think it would match nicely the persona they already perceive? Or does the question indicate the lack of a certain je ne sais quoi, to be remedied in this way? I hope it’s not the recollection of Hyacinth Bucket!
Mind you, boaters need headgear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more leather hats in one place than at last year’s IWA National Festival. Tried a few on, but the difference between sloppy on the ears and tight on the temple seemed to be about 2 mm. Does anyone know whether they stretch to fit before irreversible brain damage sets in?
Well, I’m going to need something more waterproof than the wonderful floppy in my profile picture, something that won’t blow off in the breeze, but which stays on without causing a migraine. If I can find the right piece of leather, the balance between image and function will look after itself. ‘Captain’ on the front? Probably not.
Mind you, boaters need headgear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more leather hats in one place than at last year’s IWA National Festival. Tried a few on, but the difference between sloppy on the ears and tight on the temple seemed to be about 2 mm. Does anyone know whether they stretch to fit before irreversible brain damage sets in?
Well, I’m going to need something more waterproof than the wonderful floppy in my profile picture, something that won’t blow off in the breeze, but which stays on without causing a migraine. If I can find the right piece of leather, the balance between image and function will look after itself. ‘Captain’ on the front? Probably not.
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
Visitors
We took a couple of students to Doncaster at the weekend – preparation for a practical training week in May for my tutor group. We couldn't resist going via Great Haywood. Well, all the group know about the boat and laugh at our enthusiasm. And we needed to stop somewhere for lunch. And it wasn't too far off the main route north. And we hadn't seen the Erin Mae since last weekend.
So my students were suitably impressed, as much by the central heating as by the lunch (more of Margaret's amazing home-made soup, etc). Steve and Dave, as usual, presented the smiley face of the marina, and the girls decided the toilets were pretty upmarket compared to what they had expected in the wilds of Staffordshire. So's the one in the boat, but it's still shut down for the winter.
Our first visitors – first of many, we hope. It's not really that we want to show off the Erin Mae. It's just the natural hospitality of those who live on the cut, isn't it?
So my students were suitably impressed, as much by the central heating as by the lunch (more of Margaret's amazing home-made soup, etc). Steve and Dave, as usual, presented the smiley face of the marina, and the girls decided the toilets were pretty upmarket compared to what they had expected in the wilds of Staffordshire. So's the one in the boat, but it's still shut down for the winter.
Our first visitors – first of many, we hope. It's not really that we want to show off the Erin Mae. It's just the natural hospitality of those who live on the cut, isn't it?
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
Second day on board
We won’t count them forever but, for the moment, every one is special. Three and a half hours’ drive each way, plus stops, for only four or five on the Erin Mae (and some of that snoozing). Those not in the know must think we’re crazy.
What did we accomplish? We finally found how to access the switches for the TV unit. We tried to decide whether the lack of signal was due to a fault with the aerial or the digital switchover. We checked that some bits of kitchen equipment would fit and we inspected what seemed a slight leak at one of the windows. We did justice to some magnificent home-made soup.
And then we were reminded that communication is sometimes an arcane art. Engineering had understood a discussion about a service – request for a quote and info about what it would entail – as a mandate to proceed. So a new fuel filter was in place and the oil as clean as you could wish for. All very nice, and we would probably have got them to do it anyway, so no complaints. Just a note to self to remember that communication occurs in the ear of the hearer, not the mouth of the speaker.
A day well-spent? Yup.
What did we accomplish? We finally found how to access the switches for the TV unit. We tried to decide whether the lack of signal was due to a fault with the aerial or the digital switchover. We checked that some bits of kitchen equipment would fit and we inspected what seemed a slight leak at one of the windows. We did justice to some magnificent home-made soup.
And then we were reminded that communication is sometimes an arcane art. Engineering had understood a discussion about a service – request for a quote and info about what it would entail – as a mandate to proceed. So a new fuel filter was in place and the oil as clean as you could wish for. All very nice, and we would probably have got them to do it anyway, so no complaints. Just a note to self to remember that communication occurs in the ear of the hearer, not the mouth of the speaker.
A day well-spent? Yup.
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