Neptune's Staircase
Neptune's Staircase
It was good to have another night's sleep and the day was going to require it. There is nothing more exciting that seeing ill-tied rope snaking out through a set of cleats to race the pulse. The stairs are a set of about 79 locks, each of which require that the boat be moored and unmoored, and during the filling the ropes need to be adjusted and care must be taken not to squash anything else in the lock. On the way up we had picked up another fishing boat called Ocean Maid, a large Scottich trawler on their way from Troon to catch prawns in the North Sea.
Now we hear that many of the East coast boats go West to get the prawns in the summer, so one wonders, could they not form a summer co-operative to save all the charging about?
We found ourselves crammed into the locks with Ocean Maid which made for an excellent fender. In fact we discovered a thing or two about fenders in the locks; the big round fancy ones with their own net covering get trashed - the netting is ground away by the boat and the concrete and the thing to have is car tyres, of which we have many. When we lost our smart fender the boys on Ocean Maid caught it for us and re-netted it in the space of two stairs, what kindness. My skipper shouted something to them about buying drinks at the next stop in Fort Augustus but I think they mis-heard him because once they were out of the top of Neptune's Staircase they were off at full pace with only a splash of spray and a puff of burning oil to show where they had been. I think we'll have to send them a bottle of something back to Troon.
This lock business is already a pain - roping on and off even with the help of the lock-keepers. Although I must say I think we put on a good show because although we are short of crew for this kind of task we needed only one helper instead of the two needed by Ocean Maid who has a full complement. Having said that, there is something undignified about trailing behind a huge, dirty, rusty boat in filthy waterproofs carrying a coils of two-inch thick grimy rope. I felt like some kind of ghastly bridesmaid.
I cannot say that we were faultless performers; there was a bit of Dick Darstadly and Mutley; shouting and under-the-breath retaliation, ingenious hapless leader and mutinous but totally dependent crew. The rain came down which was a great help, fewer spectators and therefore less pressure to look good. Although it was great to meet Bill, a local photographer who knew all the fishing boats that transited the canal and knew Heroine by sight. I find this very touching. He was a great help and told us lots of information about her, we did not know that she had been in Ayre for a while.
It was good to have another night's sleep and the day was going to require it. There is nothing more exciting that seeing ill-tied rope snaking out through a set of cleats to race the pulse. The stairs are a set of about 79 locks, each of which require that the boat be moored and unmoored, and during the filling the ropes need to be adjusted and care must be taken not to squash anything else in the lock. On the way up we had picked up another fishing boat called Ocean Maid, a large Scottich trawler on their way from Troon to catch prawns in the North Sea.
Now we hear that many of the East coast boats go West to get the prawns in the summer, so one wonders, could they not form a summer co-operative to save all the charging about?
We found ourselves crammed into the locks with Ocean Maid which made for an excellent fender. In fact we discovered a thing or two about fenders in the locks; the big round fancy ones with their own net covering get trashed - the netting is ground away by the boat and the concrete and the thing to have is car tyres, of which we have many. When we lost our smart fender the boys on Ocean Maid caught it for us and re-netted it in the space of two stairs, what kindness. My skipper shouted something to them about buying drinks at the next stop in Fort Augustus but I think they mis-heard him because once they were out of the top of Neptune's Staircase they were off at full pace with only a splash of spray and a puff of burning oil to show where they had been. I think we'll have to send them a bottle of something back to Troon.
This lock business is already a pain - roping on and off even with the help of the lock-keepers. Although I must say I think we put on a good show because although we are short of crew for this kind of task we needed only one helper instead of the two needed by Ocean Maid who has a full complement. Having said that, there is something undignified about trailing behind a huge, dirty, rusty boat in filthy waterproofs carrying a coils of two-inch thick grimy rope. I felt like some kind of ghastly bridesmaid.
I cannot say that we were faultless performers; there was a bit of Dick Darstadly and Mutley; shouting and under-the-breath retaliation, ingenious hapless leader and mutinous but totally dependent crew. The rain came down which was a great help, fewer spectators and therefore less pressure to look good. Although it was great to meet Bill, a local photographer who knew all the fishing boats that transited the canal and knew Heroine by sight. I find this very touching. He was a great help and told us lots of information about her, we did not know that she had been in Ayre for a while.
posted by Pomme at 2:50 pm
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