Where Worlds Collide
It took ages to get into the next lock - just because we couldn't make our VHF radio work on channel 74. We found ourselves in a small but deep pool of water facing the lock with a huge wind blowing us towards the steel gates or into the shallows. This made for a stressful couple of hours, constantly steering, reversing and trying to judge our position correctly while the wind howled through our aerials.
Part of the reason for the lack of enjoyment of waiting to go through the locks was the responsibility we suddenly had thrust on us by the presence of a scattering of rented"Caley Cruisers". These are small plastic river boats driven by men who think they know what they are doing and women who know they don't and are both equally dangerous. Especially when they are being blown sideways off jetties towards locks and wiers or towards us when we are trying very hard to avoid them. This is just another example of how there are seem to be two worlds in boating - oceans and non-oceans, one must think about tides, weather and shipping forecasts and uses Reed's Nautical Almanac as a bible, the other thinks about the Wind in the Willows, fancy new hats and uses "Which Pub 2003" as a bible.
Once in the lock, the keeper said we could moor there for the night. This was great for all of us - we had to do no more roping and had a secure berth, the lock-keeper got to go home and had a ready sign to the noddy boats that there was nothing moving until we went at 8.30 in the morning so he would not be bothered by VHF and mobile calls.
Just as we were battening down the hatches against the driving rain coming up the lock we spotted a solitary canoe paddling into the wind. We thought we had had a hard day so we waited around to find out who this toughie was. He is German and is kayaking the "wrong" way down the Caledonian Canal to fulfil a fairly random idea he had a few years back. We invited him for supper but he said he would be fine, once he had put his tent up (in the gale) and sorted out his cargo of 200kg. We described a warm room with a hot supper and in an hour he turned up, all clean and carrying a bottle of wine. Now that's organised. Emin was incredibly entertaining; witty (in English, his third language), asking us lots of questions and a great trencherman, although I think he must have put the 1 lb pound of hough stew, the lump of chocloate pudding and the pint of custard in is pockets, because there did not look to be enough room inside him for it all.
Part of the reason for the lack of enjoyment of waiting to go through the locks was the responsibility we suddenly had thrust on us by the presence of a scattering of rented"Caley Cruisers". These are small plastic river boats driven by men who think they know what they are doing and women who know they don't and are both equally dangerous. Especially when they are being blown sideways off jetties towards locks and wiers or towards us when we are trying very hard to avoid them. This is just another example of how there are seem to be two worlds in boating - oceans and non-oceans, one must think about tides, weather and shipping forecasts and uses Reed's Nautical Almanac as a bible, the other thinks about the Wind in the Willows, fancy new hats and uses "Which Pub 2003" as a bible.
Once in the lock, the keeper said we could moor there for the night. This was great for all of us - we had to do no more roping and had a secure berth, the lock-keeper got to go home and had a ready sign to the noddy boats that there was nothing moving until we went at 8.30 in the morning so he would not be bothered by VHF and mobile calls.
Just as we were battening down the hatches against the driving rain coming up the lock we spotted a solitary canoe paddling into the wind. We thought we had had a hard day so we waited around to find out who this toughie was. He is German and is kayaking the "wrong" way down the Caledonian Canal to fulfil a fairly random idea he had a few years back. We invited him for supper but he said he would be fine, once he had put his tent up (in the gale) and sorted out his cargo of 200kg. We described a warm room with a hot supper and in an hour he turned up, all clean and carrying a bottle of wine. Now that's organised. Emin was incredibly entertaining; witty (in English, his third language), asking us lots of questions and a great trencherman, although I think he must have put the 1 lb pound of hough stew, the lump of chocloate pudding and the pint of custard in is pockets, because there did not look to be enough room inside him for it all.
posted by Pomme at 2:59 pm
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