I was heading down the Lower Lee yesterday. Ahead of me and on my left, adjacent to another vessel, was a stationary dredger boat.
I slowed down but – as I was driving past – the dredger sprang into action. From nothing, amid an almighty wash, the dredger’s stern rapidly move into my path. It was going to hit me and I didn’t have time to get out of the way.
Figuring that the driver had not seen me, I sounded my horn. The dredger stopped and a collision was avoided.
As I was passing, annoyed as I felt, I waved at the driver. No harm done, I figured. We all make mistakes, right? She responded by shaking her head – a disapproving shake that said I was an idiot boater who didn’t know what he was doing. Continue reading The Blind Dredger→
My living room was once filled with framed photos of me with famous people. There were no pictures of family or friends – just me with famous people. My self esteem was low enough that I wanted to remind myself – on a daily basis – of moments when others who had achieved more with their lives than I, had crossed my path. I may not have attained Greatness myself but, by God, I’d certainly been in the company of it. Continue reading My brief encounters with Robin Williams→
It took a while to get my head around the concept of double mooring.
If you who do not bring your boat into London, do not have a boat OR you are the Liverpudlian I met in Braunston who asked, “Soooooo, what’s with all this doubling up you does down there, like?” I’ll start with an explanation. Continue reading Double Mooring Etiquette→
When I moved onboard, ‘Herbie No. 2’ was painted down the sides. The Herbie part was acceptable but ‘No. 2’ was almost a deal breaker. Yes, I was disgruntled that it wasn’t the first boat to have that name but the main problem was that it was a euphemism for feces. Continue reading Boat Names – the good, the bad & the offensive→
Last week, whilst moored up in Little Venice, I returned to my boat to find a sealed message from CRT (The Canals & Rivers Trust) tied onto my back door. Ever the optimist, my open heart told me it must be a Xmas greeting or a note to commend me on the quality of my bowline. It turned out, however, to be my first Patrol Notice (boatspeak for parking ticket). Continue reading Parking Ticket→
No Skills, No Patience, A Childhood Dream… and a Boat