Journey to Brighton- Part 2, Maiden Voyage

We bought Enid from the Fish and Duck Marina (also called Pope's Corner I believe) where the river Cam meets the Great Ouse. Right in the middle of the flattest, windiest, bleakest part of England, the Fens. The few weeks that we spent there impressed upon me the true vastness of the earth and sky, showed me some mind-blowing sunsets and gave me more than one wind-blown ear ache. It also demonstrated that with minimal electricity/cooking implements and reading material you will become so mind-numbingly bored that walking 3 miles in a gale to the nearest charity shop and buying Robot Wars the board game becomes THE MOST EXCITING THING EVER. It is a good game, like chess but not as hard and with more opportunity to shout ‘ACTIVATE!’ 

At the Fish and Duck. This was before we renamed her and she was still called 'Slow Progress'

The people who lived at Fish and Duck were very friendly and helpful, as river dwellers usually are, and gave some very good tips. I think they could see we needed all the help we could get as scruffy, excitable, wild-eyed twenty year-olds. We went into living-aboard with essentially no prior boat knowledge, and there was a lot to learn very quickly.

The main challenge we had before us was moving the boat from Cambridgeshire to Brighton. Transporting a boat 150 odd miles is no mean feat. After some logistical calculations with a map of the inland waterways we realised that we would need to move the boat mostly by road. But before we could do that we needed to drive the boat to somewhere it could be lifted by crane out of the water. Luckily for us the nearest place was 20 miles downstream, and we were pretty excited about cruising there! 

The other issue was neither of us had really driven a boat before. Just before we set off on the maiden voyage there was a strange buzzing coming from the region of the engine which made us panic, obviously fairly noisily because the nice man in the boat next to us popped his head out for long enough to tell us the water pump was humming because our water tank was empty (absolutely nothing to do with the engine it turns out, and definitely nothing to panic about). He chuckled and pointed us to the hose. We had invited a few good friends over to see the boat and also help us by standing on deck and pre-empting any boat crashes. River boats don’t move very fast and collisions can be avoided with the use of a long pole and a gentle push in the other direction. But the marina we had to navigate out of had a few very sharp turns and was filled with very lovely and probably very expensive house boats.

Alex decided to tackle this issue by grabbing the bull by the horns and setting off with no prior warning to anyone else (we were still eating breakfast).

‘Aaaah I’m driving the boat!’ he screamed ‘Everyone come and help me… Get on deck!’

Our good friend Henry was pulling his socks on urgently, cup of tea still in hand

‘No time for shoes Henry!!’ Alex shouted

The element of surprise paid off, and we steered out of a marina for the first time with no incidents. This was followed by much whooping and beer opening, the boat slowly veering towards the riverbank before we remembered to stop celebrating and start steering again.

Success!

Our first port of call was Ely, it wasn't really on route but we really liked the idea of mooring the boat up outside a lovely pub and having a bit of a jaunt around before, the cruising got serious, or as serious as it can be!

We met more friends in Ely, went to the pub, cruised up and down the river singing songs and generally having a lovely time. I saw the rest of my life stretching out in front of me, full of Wind in the Willows-esque picnics and afternoon G&T’s, it was joyous. I’d like to say I wasn't mistaken, but I was little bit, the boat hasn't been all plain sailing as they say. I do still make time for afternoon G&T’s though. The next day we were woken by twenty-odd Canada geese staring through our window. It was time to drive the boat across Cambridgeshire.

Journey to Brighton- Part 1, Boat Hunting

I've been living in Brighton now for enough time to bake a baby, but I've only just started to feel settled. This could be for a few reasons: partly because of the transitory nature of living on a form of transport but mainly because it was such an epic journey to get here in the first place! I thought I would try and recount it here,

We started looking for live-aboard boats in the autumn of 2011. We were unemployed, in our early 20's and looking for somewhere to live in the South of England. It only took a week or two of searching, and one failed flat contract in Bristol for us to realise what a thoroughly depressing prospect this was. We were walking along the banks of the River Avon, brooding over our unfortunate lot in society when we came across a gorgeous line of narrow boats, a few of them had 'for sale' signs in the window. Alex had considered buying a boat before, so we couldn't resist just calling a few numbers and seeing what the price was. 

Most of the boats in Bristol city centre were out of our price range. But it was here that the idea sprouted, a few days later after some very good canvassing by Alex and a few internet searches, it was in full bloom. 

We started by looking around the Bristol area. It didn't take long for us to find and fall in love with a little narrow called the 'Dora Rosamund'. This was before we knew much at all about boats, but I did know one thing for sure and that was that large patches of damp and mould are usually to be avoided. People will say to you that boats are always damp, as they float on water this is to some extent true, but there is a difference between a slightly damp atmosphere (which can be avoided by using a dehumidifier and opening your windows) and a buckling ceiling and small rivulets running down the walls. Dora had both of these in abundance, and we didn't have the knowledge to fix these problems. Despite her exciting kitchen surfaces, we decided she wasn't for us.  

After this set back we made our minds up to look further a field. After many long nights spent on Apollo Duck (best place for boats online!), Alex borrowed his Mum's Volvo and I baked shed load of pies (because I refuse to spend £4 on a sandwich from Take a Break), and we were ready for our week long boat finding road trip!  

I don't know if any of you have driven from Devon to Bristol to Bath to Chertsey to London to Milton Keynes to  Ely to Essex to Maidstone and then to Brighton before (of course you haven't, why would you?), but the epic nature of the journey meant that we were properly living on the road. Sleeping in the back of a Volvo in Milton Keynes is actually more exciting and glamorous than it sounds, we went to the cinema and had Parasol Pie for dinner. Volvo's are quite spacious and comfortable and believe it or not if you drive to the outskirts of Milton Keynes there are some nice country lanes to park up on. On top of that there is the fact that every city looks nicer from the water ways. I found going to all these secret hushed communities fascinating. Watching the sunset to the sound of lapping water and ducks swimming just outside your window, river dwellers definitely live the high life.

We saw some very long boats, some bare, some painted beautifully and some that looked about ready to sink. In the end we found two boats that we really wanted near Ely, and it was hard to decide between them. We were struggling between Enid and a really pretty narrow boat called 'Montie'.

Driving down to Brighton helped us make up our minds. We arrived in Brighton during the super heatwave in September, the lanes and beach were buzzing. Alex saw the marina and was really keen to be on the sea, we needed a boat that didn't mind being rocked and Enid fitted the bill (although she was still a river boat, so it was a slightly crazy scheme).

We put in our offer and it was accepted straight away. We had a boat! 

  

Bright Town

I thought I would return to the blogging game, now I have far more important things to do, because I want to tell people about my seafaring adventures- of which there are many but you will just have to wait until I remember some. Watch this space.

The Issue with Tissue Poetry

I have sadly lost the aforementioned rocks and spines poem (bad working title anyway) in an unintentional napkin genocide. Never rashly clear out your hand bag, even if it mostly contains used tissues and tesco metro receipts.

So instead, this is a new one about trains, a work in progress, criticism appreciated.

Train Line

I’ve seen the back end of Britain

From metal lines

Where no one walks

Or sings, with the

Sliding metal wheels.

And I’ve been

To Preston

And Reading

And Slough

But I’ve not noticed

Them.

I remember

There were

Dense piles of bricks

Half a back porch

Forgotten hay bales

Growing grass

And old men

Waiting in garden chairs

To be offended

By the greasy metal.

For two days at a time

I live on

Border lines

No one can step over,

Legally.

But my place is reserved.

Once,

Sitting on a bench

In Peterborough?

I heard strange music

Emanating from the city.

I felt I might disappear,

Before being woken

By the inescapable roar

Of my necessary connection.

Land's End and Badgers and Spines

I have been in the foot of Britain for a few days, lots of villages surrounded by sea. If you drive down the A30 and don't stop you arrive at Land's End. It was the first time I had noticeably got to the end of a road. There is a Doctor Who exhibit at Land's End. It is a 4d experience apparently. There is also a West Country Shopping Village. I walked around all of it on the cliff path, a better way to see the end of the country.

In Cornwall they have cats with six toes.

Last night I watched Spotlight, the South- West news programme, the weatherman said he wouldn't even try to pronounce the name of the Icelandic volcano because it was too tricky.

My friends came to pick me up for a night time walk. There was no moon. On the way we chased a badger in a car for about 5 minutes. I don't think it minded, we all obviously had nothing important to do. It wasn't a very fast car chase, more of a crawl. He started running before we started chasing. Badgers run with a curved spine like upside down rocking chairs.

Brief stab at a poem about spines and rocks to follow...