Yet again on returning home I slunk into my hidey hole,
battened down the hatches and kept myself pretty much to myself. I didn’t mind
being home, but I hardly threw myself into local events. Trouble is, it no longer
feels like home. I spent a month doing little but catching up with myself, much
of the time was astride my bike. Now that is a joy I never seem to tire of, I’d
looked forward to riding again. A mean a real bike, something with a bit of
grunt, that you can power through the bends. It’s a monster to manoeuvre at a
standstill, much too top heavy, but handles really well for its size once on
the move. Initially slightly cautious, I quickly fell into a relaxed, yet
vigorous riding style, my usual. The rain never put me off either, not that
there was a lot anyway. In fact it invigorated me, and refreshed my bike suit,
which had gone a touch mouldy due to me storing it while still damp. (Photo: Pankina as she sat on first sight - Venetian Marina, Cholmondeston, Nantwich, Cheshire)
Bearing in mind how much fun I’d been having, I amazed myself
when giving up on two-wheeled wonder after only two months. Don’t jump to
conclusions, I’ve not swapped the bike for anything with more wheels, that
would be plain daft. Instead I’ve made an impulsive move and bought myself a
narrow boat. Partly as a means to occupy myself, and partly to explore the
on-going idea of a prolonged adventure cruising the inland waterways. This
first came to mind all those years ago, flights of fancy Cai and me went on while
planning for America and our lives after. But it’s an idea that has never been
far from my mind. The limiting factor was the length of time I was prepared to
put up with life in the UK, I’ve not exactly felt enamoured with my limited
visits back to what I refer to as home. So for most of you who know me, it will
come as no surprise that I have in fact bought a narrow boat. (Photo: Pankina as she sat on first sight - Venetian Marina, Cholmondeston, Nantwich, Cheshire)
OK, it did happen kind of fast! But if nothing else, I do
like to be spontaneous. Toying with the idea once more I thought I’d spend a
few days looking, travelling to see what’s available and enjoying the open
road. I guess I needed something to spur me on, anything to get me out the
house before I succumbed to eternal lethargy. So it was an excuse to get out
and about, a purpose behind a damned good ride. I had no intention of actually
buying a boat, just to get more a better idea of what I wanted when the time
came. I picked a number of boatyards in a similar area, and a few boats to view
at each. Starting with those at the higher end of my budget it soon became
apparent I’d have no reserve to make any changes, and none ticked all the
boxes. And it didn’t take long to realise the advantages and disadvantages of
various styles of build and internal fit-outs.
A pushy salesman saw me back off from one marina, he contacted me half
an hour later trying the hard sell, so I withdrew any interest, quite bluntly. (Photo: Galley area, looking fo'ward - Nr Nantwich, Cheshire)
Browsing moored boats on the cut (the canal to you
terrestrials) was useful, but those for sale tended to be out of my league.
There are some cracking boats around, though traditional colours schemes (greens
and reds with brass décor) seemed a minority. Even disregarding the floating
wine palaces there is a lot of money in people’s boats, considering how seldom
many are used it’s a crying shame. At least mine wouldn’t get neglected, I
fully intended using it as home and a means to travel the Inland Waterways of
the UK. It was obvious that anything beyond 55ft (17m) was extra length I
wouldn’t need for me alone. Smaller than 45ft (12m) and I’d feel cramped after
a while. The first day hadn’t been wasted, I had a better idea of suitability,
though I still had no intention of buying one yet. By my reckoning, the end of
the high season should be a better time to buy. So I was in no hurry, entering
negotiations wasn’t on the agenda. So why was it that I put down a deposit to
secure a purchase the following day? Without having it surveyed? (Photo: Galley looking aft - Nr Nantwich, Cheshire)
Did I call it spontaneous? Hmm, maybe I should amend that to
impulsive. Sometimes you just need to go with the flow, and that’s how I ended
up with my 45ft narrow boat, Pankina.
It looked right, felt good inside, engine sounded great, it didn’t smoke,
rattle or knock anyway. In Venetian Marina, Nr Nantwich, they’d let me have
four sets of keys at a time and left me to wander around looking to my heart’s
content. Two I dismissed quite quickly, the others of the group were priced the
same but the similarities stopped there. Whilst being 15yrs newer Cedar looked more run down, there were
signs of leakage from a number of windows, corners in the kitchen rotted
through. The paintwork was faded and lacklustre, the poor thing looked as
though it hadn’t even had its nose wiped since it hit the water ten years ago. Pankina, on the other hand was very
presentable, from all aspects, the engine was even pretty clean. From first
glance she seemed to offer more than any others I’d views, at least for that
price range. But more than anything, she looked ready to step on and go
cruising. (Photo: Saloon, with disgusting union jack cushions - Nr Nantwich, Cheshire)
As I was dithering and going from boat to boat someone else
started to view as well. And as it happened she was looking at the same boats
too. We even stopped and discussed what we thought of each, she’d not seen Pankina then while I’d already gone back
for a second look. As she looked, I chatted to the staff, asking what I hoped
to be pertinent questions. The state of the engine came up, because it had an
old British taxi engine, so the engineer took me back to start it up. And start
it did, with no hesitation, no belching smoke, and no worrying noises. It
didn’t matter where I looked on the boat, it glowed from a life of obvious TLC.
It had everything it needed, with spares, throughout the vessel, even a fully
equipped galley (kitchen, landlubbers). There was only one problem, I despised
the tacky, glittery, Union Jack cushions with hearts on. But I’m not keen on
the matching beige curtains and sofa covers either, but I’m sure they’ll get so
grubby as to eventually require dying, to hide how gross they have become. Fay,
the other viewer, was also showing signs of appreciation, spending a lot longer
on Pankina than any other of her
prospective purchases. (Photo: Pankina and Herr Kapitan - Nr Nantwich, Cheshire)
I swear I didn’t get competitive. I was about to leave, for
the next boatyard, when someone asked if I wished to make an offer on the boat.
No would have been the sensible answer, maybe. But instead I made a low offer,
and was astounded at their reply. As the salesman looked up from the phone I
was sure they’d laughed at my offer, but then he smiled and said they’d
accepted. Unbelievable, I was suddenly about to become the proud owner of a
narrow boat. A quick flash of some plastic took care of the deposit, leaving me
seven days to pay the balance and become Captain Kay. Needless to say, I didn’t
hang about. Four days later I paid the remainder and took possession of the
keys. When I’d agreed the sale and paid the deposit I was completely oblivious
of the date, only days after did I realise it had occurred on the date of Cai’s
death seven years ago. It will always be a significant date, and marking it
with a special event is better than falling apart afresh each year. I can only
wonder why each year doesn’t see the approach of July 3rd with great
trepidation, why I don’t dread the date. Put simply, it’s just another day
without my son. No one is more relevant than the rest, I still think of him all
the time, miss him constantly, but I have a life to live, which he whole-heartedly
approved of. (Photo: A lazy morning admiring how good One looks - Barbridge, Nr Nantwich, Cheshire)
I've jumped in at the deep end again, only having about an hour at the tiller of a narrow boat before. I'd never operated a lock, knew nothing of the systems on boats, It's been a steep learning curve, from complete novice to competent solo cruiser in a matter of days, but it's all made sense to me. The system works reliably on basic common sense and a touch of common courtesy. Like most aspects of life, the more you put in the more you get from it. If you're impatient, intolerant and prone to a negative frame of mind I can't see you appreciating its finer points. It really is life in the slow lane, at 4 mph you are not going anywhere fast, being in a hurry is a waste of time. My intention is to cruise the inland waterways, both canals and rivers, and see
as much of the UK as possible from the confines of my narrow boat. A new adventure calls for another blog methinks. For easy access simply click on the following link: A pirate's life for me. With any luck their system might actually be capable of sending out notifications whenever I post another entry. This is the way to go, if you want to stay attentive to my ramblings. All being well I can access the Internet from the boat, so there should be no excuses for lethargy. (Photo: Resident Heron - Venetian Marina, Cholmondeston, Nantwich, Cheshire)