Greetings to the forum members and their boats from myself, narrow boat Sara, and my young crew. Spring has come in fits and starts here in the fens but it was finally time for our first outing of the year. Actually, the crew wanted to go out last weekend but I felt the day would be much better spent scrubbing my covers and ropes where they had gone a little green over winter - one must look ones best. So I refused to start. Young master was a little ungracious and called me a few choice names whilst he hunted around for that voltmeter he remembered buying last year and instead found the two drills he had no recollection of and three separate, half full, tubs of varnish that no one admitted to ever seeing before. Eventually it was deduced that my starter battery had not made it through the harsh winter. There may have been one or two dark mutterings about refitting a starting handle to my shiny green engine...
Yesterday therefore I was treated to many gifts - a new starter battery (black - just my colour!), a new leisure battery and various bits and bobs to encourage the magic electrons to nest and stay put. Young master had only intended to change the starter battery (I'll be an hour or so dear) but then the good ideas kept coming and before he realises it six hours have gone by and he's relocated a bunch of cables, fuse boxes and chargers into one of my little cupboards. I didn't mind - it kept him busy and out of mischief, and the look on his face when he realised the mother-in-law had arrived was priceless.
Given that they had made such an effort (and young master had a rather sore back from a day spent bent over the battery hole) I decided that the time had come for a little jaunt. When I was young (and queen Vic still on the throne!) I relied on a horse to get me around, but now I have an engine of my own. The Lister Petter caught on the button and with a gentle bop-bop-bop we nosed out of the marina on idle and headed off down the Ouse out of Ely and towards the Old West.
We passed a few coots and moorhens sat tight on nests and watched the grebes doing their best to woo. A couple of cormorants sat at the waters edge, wings outstretched, as we came past. "I'm a pterodactyl" they cried after us.
Eventually we made it to the old West without seeing another boat on the move, where young master decided he was cold and handed the tiller to my young lady, who deftly swept me round the bends whilst he crashed about inside looking for some winter motorcycle gloves. Whilst inside the vents were opened so the Lister Petter could blow warm air into the cabin. It was decided by all that the day was failing to live up to its morning clear blue sky promises.
Eventually we moored up at Streatham. Here I am with my young lady. There are only 137 years between us. Give or take. I've forgotten quite when my birthday is.
Young master took this naughty photo of my bottom when I wasn't looking. The cheek of it!
It turned out he likes watching things go round and around repetitively. I think there might be something wrong with him. This is Streatham Pumping engine, built 1836.
This bit went up and down. Young lady humoured him.
Here is a picture he took of me from the top of the engine house. The clouds have started to gather in the distance.
The crew enjoyed their visit very much, but after a few hours decided it was time to head back before the weather caught us. At least you can see it coming out here in the fens. On our return we bumped into another old lady, Andromeda. Young master says he needs to train his wife in how to use the viewfinder so that, next time, she gets the bows into shot too.
Our attempt to outrun the approaching weather failed and Young Master enjoyed the hail. It passed through though and the sun was weakly shining by the time we returned to Ely.
They've put my covers back on now and I'm all snug. Everything went well today and I was a grand old girl, so they promise we can go out for a long Easter adventure.
SARA