I once spent an interesting evening with a new Bolinder owner (he was new to it, not the engine that was new) he described locking through on The GU thus: -
"Having just passed a boat in the other direction you pray nobody has started turning the lock round. Coming round the corner you can see it's empty and the gates open, phew! Easing the engine down as much as you dare without it cooling and going out, you gather up every piece of rope to hand, I don't know why, rope just seems to comfort you. Next you wave to the two old dears in the bungalow as you straighten up for the lock entrance knowing the by weir will do it's best to throw the front end over.
As you enter the chamber you advance the timing to try and get the right moment to reverse the engine and not stall it ... advance ....Advance...ADVance ... BLOODY ADVANCE! ......... Got it! A quick burst stops further rounding of the stem post due to ramming the cill.
Now to regain Ahead in order to keep it up against the cill, retard ....REtard ... RETARD! ..... watch the by weir doesn't chuck you across onto the side ..... RETARD!!! ..... wave to the two old dears in the bungalow ...... throw the ropes around while muttering about how wonderful the silence is now it's stalled.
Put the kettle on."
He described what tackling a GU lock that's against you is like when you live with a Bolinder.
"Your heart sinks when you realise the closed gates you can see are not the far end ones. Shutting down to tick over fools the fisherman on the bank into thinking you were doing it for his benefit. Truth is you can't be doing with any more of this Advance and Retard shenanigans than you have to. Having seen an old wooden bollard you're hoping you can strap onto it with your centre rope without ripping out any more history. Leaping for your life and praying you don't fall or slip you run like you're in a forest fire hoping the rope is long enough to take a couple of turns and you don't get your fingers in the way ..... again!
Pretending that it's perfectly normal to see your boat heel over to 75 degrees accompanied by a loud graunching noise and a gentle smashing of lace plates you're secretly delighted to observe through the engine 'ole doors that The Thunderbox is still upright. Everything calms down and the boat just gently nudges aginst the rope every time she fires.
Whistling confidently you walk down and close one bottom gate, walk back up, cross over and go close the other side. Walk back and lift one set of paddles, whilst pondering why there's never a second boat to lock through with when you need one? Cross over lift those paddles, then open a gate.
Walking back to the boat you're surprised yet happy to hear she's still chugging every few seconds and that you remembered to tie one of those clever knots that holds the boat without getting so tight with each tug of the engine that it's impossible to untie. Just as you about to climb onto the counter you realise the fisherman has ambled up to you .....
Oi Mate, your boat don't like me .... as soon as your back was turned it came back up to me, ate my keepnet .... farted in my face and then went back to where you left it!"
Still I reckon I'd have one!