Daryl

Good point! Thanks - Daryl

Richard, I haven't done the family tree yet. Might be too many Dark secrets. Regards - Daryl The Gold Coast is too far south for crocs, but they do have Bull Sharks which can be very agressive. The only crocodiles you find in the Gold Coast wear white slip on shoes, slicked back hair, too much gold and want to sell you an investment property that just can't fail. You would have to travel up around Cairns and further north to run into crocs. Not that you'd want to. Saltwater crocs are extremely dangerous and only in the last month at least 3 three have been taken in the Northern Territory including an 11 year old girl and a 20 year old man. Once while doing some research for a film script, I spoke with a guy who was an expert on "salties" as they are affectionately known. He said that if he had to chose between being in the water with a Great White shark and a saltie he said he would take the shark, because the Great White will maybe attack you 70% of the time, but the saltie will attack you 100% of the time. Regards - Daryl Hi Sue, The GC is not a bad place to spend sometime in the sun. Further north there are some even better places to visit. You are right, the canals were basically built for housing development as much of the area was a marshy swamp many years ago. I guess they forgot the pathways to keep the riff raff out. The GC canals certainly don't have any of the character and ambience of the canals in the UK. They are more like small rivers actually and there are no locks. Also, Bull Sharks are often found in them so you want to stay well clear of them. If you get a chance have a look up around the Sunshine Coast north of Brisbane. Very nice area. Regards - Daryl Richard, I have visited that website before. Regards - Daryl This is about putting my hat into the ring and seeing what response I get. I have no set dates as yet, and if I have to I will try and go it alone or in convoy with other NBs. I would prefer to enjoy the company of like minded people though. Thank you for the kind offer and when I have an idea of when I will be in the UK I will contact you. Regards - Daryl Mary, She will probably think, thank God I don't ever have to wind another lock gate and fall on my butt in the mud again! Regards - Daryl

Hi Carl, I say "you guys" with the utmost affection as I am a child of the 60s and 70s and grew up on a diet of British TV that consisted of On the Buses, It Ain't Half Hot Mum, Dads Army, Love Thy Neighbour, Carry On movies, Steptoe and Son and so many more. As far as I can tell 95% of my decendants are English and probably came out here in convict ships (no I haven't carried on the family's criminal past). My best friend when I was around 6 years old was from England. Malcom lived with his family at a migrant hostel not far from my home and we spent many weekends exploring the local creeks (probably where my love of waterways started) getting into trouble for coming home covered in mud and carrying jars of tadpoles. Malcom had one of those Lady Penlope pink Rolls Royce Dinky toys and he introduced me to TV shows such as Stingray, Thunderbirds, Captain Scarlett and Joe 90, all of which I have full DVD collections of to this very day. Yes "you guys" did kick start the process over here and "us guys" did run with it. I just wished someone had built a canal system or two. Imagine the number of locks it would have taken to get over the Blue Mountains - hundreds! Then again I wouldn't have the pleasure of travelling to the UK to experience all that "you guys" have to offer. Over the last 10 years of continuing drought to say that it has been a little dry and brown in my home state of Victoria is an understatement, though recent rains have turned the place green in a couple of weeks. Even the regions incinerated by the February firestorms are turning green. Regards - Daryl Hi Liam, I guess its a bit like trying to invite yourself to come and stay at someone's home and you have never met before. There is always the risk factor that you wont get along and narrow boats don't have a lot of space. I figure I'll throw my hat into the ring and see what happens. Regards - Daryl Can't help you there!

Hi, Is there a location on this forum or another web site where NB owners advertise for potential crew members? A site where you can spend some time getting to know each other and then decide to team up knowing you're not going to wake in the middle of the night and find someone standing over you wearing a hockey mask and holding a chainsaw? As a one timer who spent 4 days on a flooded K&A in January 2006, I am considering travelling to the UK in the future on a yearly basis to get a fix, but I may have to do it alone (the family will do the London tourist thing) and would be looking to help crew a NB and share the costs involved. I would like to do a different canal system each year. I'm a easy going Aussie (I'm 47) with a good sense of humour who is fit (regular weights and running), loves the outdoors (I ski in winter so the cold and wet don't bother me) and doesn't mind a laugh over a glass of beer/red who is also a great cook. I have broad tastes in music, sport, film, travel, history, TV, politics, world issues, life, the environment, narrow boating and just about any other subject you care to discuss. Must be the writer in me. Everyone has a story to tell. I work between freelance writing in the media industry and as trainee freight locomotive driver in the rail industry driving diesels weighing up to 130 tonnes and running trains up to 3500 tonnes so I'm used to handling large and heavy machines. I also have a long distance love of the canals. Its just too bad that when you guys decided to colonize Australia you didn't dig some canals for us Aussies to enjoy today. You gave us cities, industry and railways, but no canals. I'm not sure there were even plans to build any. I must do some research on that. Regards - Daryl

Hi Andy, Sounds like an easy way to get some cruising done on short notice. I hear your trains are fast compared to ours. I will check it out. I have no definate plans at the moment. Regards - Daryl

Hi Harleyi, Yes we have so much to offer in Australia in regards to things to do outdoors and to do with water, but unfortunatley we can't offer canals. The closest I can come up with is a possible canal system in Sydney which would be a poor subsitute even with a lot of money spent and work done. It would only be a short run, but a combination of Cooks River, the Alexandra Canal, Wolli Creek, Muddy Creek and Mill Pond could be made into some sort of canal system. You could also extend the Hawthorn Canal from Iron Cove on the Parramatta River along the former Rozelle rail line down to Dulwich Hill and into Cooks River. This would give you maybe 10 to 12km of navigatable canal and river system. Not great, but better than nothing. If you made it suitable for small sea going boats there would probably be a lot of traffic from the Parramatta River/Sydney Harbour over to Botany Bay and visa versa. The only way you can do this trip at the moment is to go out into open sea. It would of course cost millions and considering the state of New South Wales is bankrupt I don't think it will happen anytime soon. There is no doubt if I had the fortune to travel to the UK on a regular basis I would spend a lot of my time on the canals. I might even be tempted to buy a boat or at least shares in one. I just loved the four days we spent out there, and I hope that I can see a lot more in the future. Even though the Kennet and Avon was in flood and I we had several very nervous moments, I am hooked. I just felt at peace out there if that doesn't sound too SNAG! I've lost count of the number of times I've watched the video footage I shot. I'm not sure when I'm going back, but it will be later this year or early next year. Thanks kindly for the offer. I've read the Leicester Ring & the Warwickshire ring is quiet a journey. Regards - Daryl PS - Do you know about the Canal Boating Association of Australia based in Sydney? Hi Amduck, Thanks for your suggestion. I have read about hotel boats and they do sound like a relaxing way to see the canals, but as you probably well know once you've done it yourself then I can't imagine doing it any other way. Its just so much fun and a challenge. It certainly takes you out of your comfort zone the first time out. Regards - Daryl Hi Andy, The Lancaster Canal certainly sounds like a good option for some easy cruising and 40 miles is certainly a decent run. I'll have to do some research on that one. How far from London is it? Regards - Daryl Hi Janet, I'm hoping to meet plenty of like minded people along the way who are happy to take a house trained Aussie under their wing. I imagine travelling in convoy would make boating a lot more interesting (local knowledge) and with plenty of company at night over a glass of beer/red. When we did the K&A in four days we saw only one other NB actually moving. It was a bit lonely out there, but then again it was the middle of winter. I'm sure there are plenty of new tricks in handling a canal boat I need to learn, but I have to say I held my own in some tense situations on the flooded K&A. I've read about the Leeds and Liverpool and the Rochdale Canals in the North, and the Huddersfield Narrow and they are on my to do list. This list may take another 20 years to fulfill, but at 47 I keep myself very fit so I should have a few good years left in me yet. Once some serious planning starts I will let you know. Time to get reading Canal Boat Magazine and make a short list. Regards - Daryl

Hi All, As I sit here and write this email it's hard to believe that over 2 years have passed since Jacinta, James, Maddy and I took on the flooded Kennet and Avon in January of 2006. It was some adventure and since we have not been blessed with a canal system here in Australia I have had to survive by reading this forum and Canal Boat magazine. So I believe the time has come to make a return and take on a new canal (hopefully not one in flood this time). I'd certainly like to try up north so I'm looking for any suggestions. This time I will probably be on my own as to say the canal boating bug did not bite the rest of my crew is an understatement. Fancy knocking back the chance to take in all that canal boating has to offer to visit the Tower of London and Big Ben! Anyway, what would be the best way to go about this alone? Are there any canals that a one timer could do this alone? I'd rather do this with like minded individuals, but most of my friends I have suggested the idea to over here just give me strange looks and walk away. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated and no I will not kneecap any Aussie cricketers who are playing in the up coming Ashes series in trade for a some help. Regards - Daryl

Thank you for your very kind offer. I will certainly look into my next trip to the UK with the intent of a canal boat trip and let you know when I'll be there. I am now somewhat canal boat trained and can operate a lock and drive a canal boat without causing too much fear in its ocupants. I'm in the process of joining the Australian Canal Boat Society and setting up the Melbourne chapter which has one memeber at the moment - me! I promise that if I am lucky enough to come cruising with you it wont be as eventful as the Kennet and Avon. I have been told though that if you can cruise the Kennet and Avon in winter then you should be able to handle most canals in summer. I hope this is true. I would love to do the Anderton Boat Lift and Falkirk Wheel. Regards - Daryl

Malcom and Allan, Thanks for you're comments. I wanted to add some colour to our story and highlight the challenges that we faced, that's not to say that it wasn't a facinating journey and I'm really looking forward to our next cruise, though I may be doing it on my own. Any volunteers? Daryl

Hi All, I want to apologise about being so slow getting my cruise diary finished. Unfortunately once I left Finland I had very little access to computers. This problem has been compounded by the fact that once I did get back to Australia I've had trouble with my home computer. I have recently posted Day 3 and this will quickly be followed by Day 4. I hope it hasn't been too boring a read - it was really quite an adventure for us. Regards - Daryl Blake

Day 3 At 3 am I was awoken by the canal boat version of the Japanese water torture. At first I thought I was dreaming, but as the freezing cold water continued to drip on my forehead and run down my neck I realized that it was really happening. WE MUST BE SINKING! I sat bolt upright in bed, but the NB Kintbury seemed to be floating happily the way its designers had intended it to. Then another drop landed on my head and I looked up and there on the windows of the lounge area, heavy condensation on the glass. So heavy in fact that it was running down the window and dripping onto my head. I grabbed a tea towel and wiped the window down, but it was of little use as my bedding was now wet and very cold. I slunk into the bedroom and considered whether it was worth risking putting the slumbering Maddy back in her bunk or not, but I just didn’t have the heart to wake her. As it was too early to start the engine and put the heating on, I decided to light the stove and oven and salvage what bedding I could and bunk down on the floor for a bit more kip. Fortunately I managed to make it through to 5.30 am when once again the HST trains blasting by at the Thatcham level crossing woke me. At this point I decided to give up trying to sleep and have that great solver of problems, a cuppa. At around 7 am it was time to “kick the tires and light the fires”. I must write myself a note next time I go canal boating to remember where you moor overnight. Still wearing my jim jams I strode out onto the stern to start the engine only to realize our vessel was parked right next to a busy road bridge into Thatcham which at that very moment was full of cars full of people waiting for a train at the level crossing. To say I must have looked rather silly was an understatement given the reaction of the occupants of the cars. Realising there was no way to salvage the situation, I gave them all a wave and slunk back inside. The heating was engaged, but unfortunately it would not start. After numerous attempts it was decided that something was wrong and a call was made to Aldermaston Wharf that we needed help. We were told to stand fast and someone would come to our rescue. At around midday Marcus turned up and it was soon revealed that flat batteries were the problem. I think I had something to do with their state, but I remained quiet. Note to self – stop using too many electrical appliances. The batteries where soon changed and at around 1 pm we decided to set sail with the first lock being the unique Monkey Marsh with its amazing turf sides. This was followed by the Monkey Marsh swing bring which was past with not a monkey in sight and then onto Widmead Lock. Next as we passed under the Hambridge Lane Railway bridge another HST blasted over us vibrating the old steel piers turning the area below into a booming cavern. It was then onto Bull’s Lock and another encounter with the River Kennet which came out right below the gates. Once again the river played tag with the boat sending in a direction I didn’t want to go. It was only a blast of full forward throttle and then full reverse throttle that go me to the lock and stopped me bouncing off the gates. After clearing the lock and after quite a distance of rural farm land we suddenly found ourselves in industrial Newbury passing various factories and warehouses. The canal also became a bit more unpleasant with rubbish dumped along the banks. It seems not every appreciates the wonderful history they have running right through their own backyard. Our final lock was to be Ham as the Greenham Lock was closed for repairs to the gates. As we came out of the lock and onto the River Kennet again Jacinta noticed that the current was flowing very strongly against us. As we passed what looked to be a large marina filled with a kaleidoscope of narrow boats, I eyed the fast moving water knowing that our return trip was going to be an interesting one. We cruised on a bit further with two beautiful swans for escort until Greenham Lock came into sight where we would turn the boat around and head back to Thatcham. Unfortunately the advice I was given about turning a narrow boat around on a flooded river using the flow was based on there only being one stream of the River Kennet joining back into the canal below the lock, not two. As I held the boat in the stream using full throttle I began to wonder whether I’d finally met my Waterloo. Boy, this was going to be fun. Well, nothing ventured - nothing gained. I pointed the bow to the flow to the right of the lock and powered on. As explained to me back at Aldermaston the flow would do the rest. The bow began to swing to the left and I turned the tiller and added power to make sure it kept going, but then the good old Kennet decided to have some fun with me as the other flow on the other side of the lock got into the act. Suddenly the bow began to swing back to the right and Jacinta, the kids and me became passengers as the two flow streams decided to fight over which direction 50 odd foot of narrow boat was going to go. At this point pure terror set in as I realized that I was no longer in control, but as quickly as the river had us spinning in all directions, it let go so I opened the throttle and headed for the nearby mooring. Thinking we might be given a break we pulled into the bank, but unfortunately the current was so strong that we could hardly keep the boat still. Jacinta was hoping that we might have headed off to the local pub for a drink and a meal, but what I really needed was a good lie down. The following argument certainly kept the passer bys using the boat path amused that "my" decision to take a canal boat holiday in the middle of winter might not have been such a good one. It was at this point I strode off with camera in hand determined to get at least a photo of the closed Greenham Lock and take a little time out. It was also at this point I looked at my watch and realized that it was now 3 pm and we still had to make it back to Thatcham for the night. Everyone quickly hopped back on board and we were off. For once the fast flowing river worked in our favor and we were soon making good time - a little too good. Ham Lock was suddenly before us again where the canal and the river parted ways at speed. Caught in the flow until the last moment with the throttle hard in reverse, I swung the bow into the small amount canal before the gates. Fortunately the canal is fitted with banks and I certainly made an impression on the one I hit, but it was either that or down the river and onto a weir. With a little bit more experience I would have moored up on the right bank, filled the lock and then quietly cruised in instead of attempting the kamikaze run I made. We got the boat into the lock after filling, but it was at this point, with me in a hurry I pushed just too many of Jacinta’s buttons. Walking between gates, she slipped in the mud and fell on her butt. Instead of asking if she was alright I asked to her to hurry up as we were running out of time. Coming from a union background Jacinta probably decided I had broken just too many work rules and downed tools. Realising we were going to end up having to moor somewhere in the dark on a fast flowing river I decided to go solo. After I finally managing to get the gate key from her without coping it in the side of the head or having to fish it out of the canal, I set to work to become a one man canal and lock machine. To say that anyone watching a lunatic racing up and down Ham Lock winding gate paddles, opening gates, climbing on board and taking up the tiller while all the time tying to appease his exhausted wife would have been amused. It was then onto Bull’s Lock as the fog came onto the horizon. This was getting more fun by the minute. A stuck Bull’s swing bridge did not help, but thanks to a couple of lads from a local factory we were soon through. I thought of offering them a couple of beers, but I realized it was me who would probably need a drink that night. As we came out of Bull’s lock the fog swirled across the canal and suddenly it got darker real quick. It was like a scene out that 70s movie "The Fog". If a big sailing ship full of dead guys from the bottom of the sea had suddenly made an appearance it would have been time to abandon ship. It was decided at that point that I would make a run for Thatcham and I must admit I probably broke a few narrow boating rules to do it. Since we were on the river anyway I opened the throttle and we were soon making a few knots, but that idea was quickly bought undone by the fog which just seemed to get thicker and thicker. It got so bad that I had to ask Jacinta to stand on the bow and keep an eye out for swing bridges and locks as I could no longer pick them out until they were very close. At Widmead Lock things got really interesting. The lock was still full when we arrived so the gates were opened and I cruised in. Jacinta, probably deciding we weren’t going to make it to Thatcham without her help, took up the lock key once again, closed the top gates and headed to the bottom gates to open the sluices. Unfortunately what we hadn’t noticed was the sluices in the top gates were still open. As the level in Widmead got lower the water began flooding into the lock driven by the pressure from of the up stream canal. The water jetted out and was pouring over the stern as images of the Kintbury filling and sinking right there and then in the lock filled my head. Oh I could see the headline on the front of the local newspaper now. “Tosser sinks canal boat in lock”. I was bellowing at Jacinta over the sound of the rushing water, but as she was at the other end of the lock she could not see the rather perilous situation I was in. In the end all I could do was drive the boat as far forward as I could before the engine room filled and the motor stalled. Jacinta finally noticed my frantic waving and came to the rescue. With my blood pressure running at a somewhat higher level we finally left Widmead behind. It was now not only foggy, it was getting dark, but with only Monkey Marsh lock between us and the Swan pub in Thatcham I pushed on. Finally Monkey Marsh came into view, but it had to be filled first. As we waited it got darker and darker. By the time it was full, I was beginning to think I would need a guide dog and cane to make it. As we came out of the lock I was never so happy to see the lights of Thatcham and we were soon moored up for the night. Even though you could hardly see your hands in front of your face I decided that I needed something stronger than a beer and headed for the Swan. Somehow we had managed to cruise from Thatcham to Newbury and return through 8 locks and 4 swing bridges in around 4 and a half hours covering 5 miles of canal with only 1 and a half day’s experience with me handling at least 2 solo. Something to tell the grand kids I guess. Hey kids, let me tell you about the time Poppy decided to take on the Kennet and Avon Canal solo and gave himself a hernia. After several scotches at the Swan we returned to our caravan on the canal where I crashed into my couch bed not caring how much water dripped off the windows that night and headed off to sleep. Sadly we had only half a day left on the NB Kintbury and just when I was begining to enjoy myself.

After laying in bed til about 5am when the local passenger trains starting blasting by, it was decided that some heat was desperately needed with the inside of the boat feeling more and more like a meat locker. I half expected Rocky Balboa to burst in at any moment and start punching the living suitcase out of sides of beef hanging from the ceiling. Dressed only in my PJs and snow boots, I made my way outside. To say it was cold was an understatement. Even the penguins would find it nippy at that hour. Nearby, several blokes dressed in thick jackets and safety vests working on the rail line, looked on in amusement at me in my "jim jams" - or maybe it was the fact there was actually someone mad enough to be on the canal this time of year. Anyway, I kicked the engine in the guts, scuttled inside and then waited for 20 minutes huddled over a boiled kettle before the heating system could be engaged. Once again a hot shower would save the day enabling some circulation to return to the body. Daylight finally made an entrance at around 8am only to reveal the thick fog that shrouded us, the boat, the canal and the surrounding countryside. Considering I could see only about 100 feet in some directions and considering how well I did the day before in perfectly clear conditions, we decided it was time to discover the wonders of Woolhampton. Rugged up like polar bears, the push bikes were set up for my wife Jacinta (yes she acutally does have a name) and my son James and the four of us (including our 6 year old daugther Madison or Maddy for short) set off in the general direction of the main drag. Crossing the railway line at Woolhampton station Jacinta discovered from a couple of police officers what the guys on the track were actually doing. Unfortunately during the previous evening a teenager had jumped from a moving train just opposite our nigh mooring and had been killed. We had not heard a thing. Woolhampton was seperated by a very busy road as we made our way to the corner shop. It was a bit too early to consider the local pub so lunch was purchased consisting of sausage rolls. This was topped off with a bottle of tomatoe ketchup, which seemed strange to me as I'd always believed the Australian addiction to "tomatoe sauce" (or dead horse as it is lovingly known back home) had actually come from England. I thought about asking if the shopper keeper had any penguin biscuits and Twizzer (something I once read in an English railway magazine), but settled for cakes and soft drink instead. We made out way back to the canal with me snapping photos of classic English village architecture along the way, much to the amusment of the locals. Tourists! Crossing the canal on the swing bridge, Maddy and I made a quick visit to the Rowbarge Inn that revealed it would not be open until that night after just being renovated. The inside looked so warm and inviting through the windows. All stained timber, over stuffed chairs, open fireplaces and atmosphere, atmosphere, atmosphere. Sadly we would not be there to help celebrate the reopening. Fortunately during lunch it was discovered just how much heat the gas oven and rings gave off. It wasn't long before the cabin was toasty warm and underware was hung to dry from every kitchen cupboard door handle we could find. With the clock fast approaching 1pm it was decided that the fog had lifted enough to have a "real go" at the K&A on our own. We set sail and of course the fun began immediately. First off I got moving away from the side of canal back to front. I decided pushing the bow out first would work, but unfortunately as I opened the throttle the stern stuck fast on the bottom. Oh crap! This was going to be interesting. The throttle was opened wider and wider and then a barge pole was brought in until finally the NB Kintbury began to inch forward and we were away thank God. It wasn't long before Oxlease Swing Bridge appeared out of the fog. I belllowed for Jacinta to come up on deck and she was deposited at the mooring. I pulled the boat back out in the stream while she did all the hard work swinging what looked to be quite a heavy deck. I was getting to enjoy this captaining gig. After a few minutes more of cruising our first lock, Heales, came into view. Well what preceeded over the following 30 minutes would have made a excellent instructional video on how not to use a lock. To say that divorce was on the cards by the time I picked up Jacinta on the up stream side of the lock was putting things mildly. Sticking lock gates, uncooperative gate paddles, dropped ropes, out of control canal boat, slippery mud, over excited children are just some of the things that quickly turned the situation into something out of a Monty Python sketch. I quickly realised at this point that if I was to have the continued cooperation of Jacinta on "my canal boat holiday" it would be wise to try to help out a bit more instead of standing at the tiller with a digital camera in one hand and a video camera in the other yelling at her to close and reopen a reluctant lock gate again so I could get it on video. Otherwise I'd be sailing the NB Kintbury, operating locks and basically doing the lot on my own while she and the kids luxurated in a London hotel laughing at my folly. Cranwell's swing bridge was next followed by Midgham Lock, which was handled with a tad more professionalisim (translate that into me not giving orders to Jacinta - just suggestions). With the sun now trying to shine the kids were co-opted into service to assist working the lock which they both appeared to be enjoying. Colthrop Lock followed (not quiet a doddle, but we were getting the hang of it) as more fog crept over the horizon. It was at this point while waiting for the lock to fill that I had my first close look around the chamber I was in. I hadn't realised before just how much they leaked water through the gates. Probably explained why we would often find the locks empty on the way back to Aldermaston. The other aspect that kept me on my toes was passing weirs where the canal and river parted ways. I think it was those encouraging little signs showing a drawing of a canal boat going over what looked more like Niagra Falls than a weir that did if for me. I gave them a a wide berth at all times fearing a scene out of the movie African Queen. The final cruise into Thatcham was preceeded by farm land dotted with sodden sheep on one side and and a rundown looking industrial estate on the other. Regularly faces peered out in amazement through the windows of factories and offices as we chugged by. Finally, feeling not unlike a frozen leg of lamb hanging in a butcher's shop window, and much to the disbelief of passengers waiting on the Thatcham railway station platform, our mooring for the night was reached. I was begining to think that a canal boat on the K&A in winter was not a common thing. We moored up, washed up (Jacinta was covered in a bit of mud by this stage - messy places those locks) and headed out for dinner at the Swan Inn just across the very busy railway line. A hearty meal was had washed down by a few scotches while I gleefully discussed the misfortunes of the English cricket team with the dispirited barman. Some how the conversation slowly ended up in Ramsey Street and how I lived only a couple of suburbs away from where it all happened (no I've never actually been to the hallowed street in Vermont). The Swan Inn had all that atmosphere I expected of an English pub and was certainly popular with the locals. The only disappointment was no old guy named Arthur dressed in a a rain coat and macintosh called out "I'll ave half" or no busty barmaid with a blonde beehive hairdo who looked like Barbara Windsor said "saucy". Tired, but saited, we returned to the NB Kintbury for the night. The oven and gas rings were fired up and the engine left running to maximise the build up of heat in the cabin. I decided to abandon the double bed and the missus for the couch where the heat was at its highest. At least I would be warm for the night. Of course Maddy decided that the vacant spot in Jacinta's bed was now up for grabs and quickly made her move probably motivated by the fact we did not have enough doonas to go around. Blocking my ears to the complaints I curled up under the blankets and drifted off to sleep. A whole 3 hours and 30 minutes of cruising and I was exhausted - again (yes pathetic I know considering Jacinta had done most of the hard work on the locks as well as maintaining a constant supply of coffee, toasted cheese sandwiches, hot soup and keeping the kids in order - at least I had some great photos and video to show off back at home). I wondered if Captain Stubing ever felt this way after 8 hours at the helm of the Pacific Princess? Day 2 was done. Little did I realise that Day 3 would provide for the greatest challenges yet?

Day 1 As we circled over a dark and foggy London at 0600 hours in our warm and cosy 747, I began to wonder, after dreaming about it for so long, if I'd really done enough research on this canal boat lark. As well all know, the difference between fantasy and reality can be poles apart. I'm known for suggesting great adventures that sometimes don't quite work out the way I'd planned. Anyway, it was too late now to whimp it. Besides, I had the reputation of a nation resting on my shoulders and I couldn't let my country down. Weren't us Aussies known as great adventurers? I had to take on the K&A and win. At the taxi rank the driver looked at us in disbelief as we explained where we were heading and why. "Shouldn't you lot be sitting in the sun on a beach in Queenland or something"? he inquired. One rather expensive taxi ride later we were deposited on the Aldermaston wharf at Reading Marine. There we were met by a rather friendly bloke by the name of Marcus who was blessed with getting our motley crew on board and crusing. Marcus asked had I ever driven any sort of boat before? I smiled and said no, but added that I had watched the movie Titanic several times so I knew it was important not to run into anything large that was made of ice. While we waited I wandered over to the canal to have a gander at our narrow boat, the Kintbury. It was only mean't to be 50 odd feet long, but for some reason, probably fear, it looked a damn sight longer. Maybe I should have gone for the smallest narrow boat they had. Of course that would have mean't the four of us got to sleep in beds the size only suitable for hobbits. A quick examination of the canal didn't do anything to lessen my concerns either. I now understand why they are called narrow boats. It was soon time to load up. Marcus took one look at the large amount of luggage we were carting and suggested we move up to a full length canal boat. Yeah right! In your dreams mate. You can only imagine the fun that was had struggling down a hallway 18" wide with my wife's suit case which is the size of a small 4 cylinder car and that weighed in just under 30 kgs or so the British Airways "Warning - very heavy" sticker said. Yes, we had bought everything bar the kitchen sink (only cause they wouldn't let it through customs). My wife likes to pack prepared for anything. The truth was we had enough clothing between us and the kids to supply a small African country. Little did I realise how handy all that clothing would be as each day more and more items fell victim to the wet and muddy conditions. Smart woman my wife. After packing all our luggage on board the NB Kintbury seemed to sit about 6 inches deeper in the water, but not to worry. Marcus was going to make sure that I could handle her. At least the heating worked, the water was hot, the shower was big enough for two (yeah dream on) and the dunny wasn't so small that my butt would get stuck by suction when I sat on down. Anyway, there were plenty of pubs along the way to drown my sorrows in if I turned out to be as bad at this narrow boat caper as the captain of the Titanic was at dodging icebergs. I suppose I could always brag about the cricket, and if that failed there was always daytime TV and reruns of Neighbours - did Kylie really look that daggy all those years ago? At 1.30pm on a bloody cold windless afternoon with the sun sitting strangely low in the west and the engine purring nicely, we set sail towards Aldermaston lift bridge and lock. With Marcus' kind help and instructions for the wife on the art of operating lift bridges we were quickly through these. "Piece of cake" I thought as we moored up on the upstream side. "What was I so worried about" (oh was that cocky musing to be wiped out of my smug brain the next day). Then Marcus said he's meet us before the Woolhampton swing bridge and help us through because the water in the River Kennet was flowing a little high at the moment. He wasn't joking. With that he bid us farewell and finally left me in charge as captain. Well, since this canal boat holiday was my big idea I now had to put up or shut up. Realising my wife would rip me a new mouth hole if I collapsed under the pressure, the throttle was carefully opened and off we went. For the first mile you could have been forgiven had you been walking along the tow path for thinking I had been already sampling the local ales. To say my course was not very straight was an understatment. The banks on both sides of the canal and I got well aquainted as I tried to get the hang of steering. Fortunately it wasn't too long before I got a system going and started to get a bit of confidance, and then the sign for the turn into the River Kennet appeard. Ah the River Kennet. I'd certainly read some interesting comments about it in winter on this forum so I was kind of expecting something out of the Colorado rockies. Instead, a quite and peaceful looking body of water lay ahead. Confidantly I made a hard right turn and then the boat suddenly lost speed against the strong current. The throttle was open wider and I powered ahead until the next left hand turn and then the River Kennet decided to welcome this Aussie to the world of winter time narrow boating by sending the bow racing towards the bank. More throttle and a few choice words and disaster was averted, but I knew from that moment on I could never take my eye off the river or I'd be grounded in no time at all. It wasn't quite the white water rafting I'd had nightmares about, but it certainly kept me on my toes, as frozen as they had become along with my fingers and other parts of my body I wont discuss here. Of course the one and only other narrow boat moving on the canal that we would see for the entire trip had to show up coming the other way. All of a sudden this wide body of water that was all mine looked like it had been through an Australian summer. I sailed for the right bank (I couldn't recall if I was going to starboard or port and at the time I didn't give a rat's) hoping narrow didn't also mean shallow and I wouldn't ground myself and end up looking like a complete rookie infront of another narrow boater. Instead, he was more concerned about the large tree that was laying halfway across the river that I was heading right for. Of course the excitment of passing another narrow boat had bought the whole family up onto the rear deck making it a little crowded in a crisis. As I looked around in terror for an anchor or hand brake lever I remembered Marcus mentioning that you use reverse to stop. The throttle was quickly thrown and my finger marks left in the tiller as we steamed on. The crew quickly retreated back inside the cabin driven by my cursing that the holiday was about to be over, but for once the river current worked in my favor and disaster was averted for a second time. The tree was rounded and Woolhampton brige soon came into view. The wife was deposited at the down stream mooring to get bridge swinging instructions this time while I used the throttle to keep the Kintbury from letting the River Kennet return it to Aldermaston stern first against my will. Finally the bridge was opened and all I could think was - we have to get this through that? With Marcus back onboard of course this was made to look easy, but as we crossed the flow of the River Kennet the bow swung away again, though with a gentle hand Marcus had us safely in Woolhampton lock and moored up. More lock instruction followed as well as a lot of screaming at children to stay off the damn lock gates etc, and as it was already getting dark and foggy at 3.30pm in the afternoon we decided to stay for the night. After only 2 hours of cruising and feeling a like an ice statue, I retreated into the cabin exhausted. Man this canal boat thing really took it out of a bloke, well at least it did me. So much for bragging about driving 3000 ton freight trains back in Australia. Our first day was done and thanks to a constant supply of coffee from the wife to ward off frost bite we had made it a whole 3 miles. Well at least the kids thought my frozen red face looked funny. With the Kintbury shut down for the night and after probably the best hot shower I've ever had, we all bedded down around 9pm snug and warm in our little home on water only to be woken at 3am freezing. It was so cold in the cabin I could see my own breath. As I lay beneath the blankets trying to steal my wife's body heat without waking her up and being told to bugger off, I could only wonder what it would be like out on the cut the next moring.

Hi All, Well our canal boat holiday is done and we made it despite one attempted sinking, flat batteries, sticking lock gates, too little daylight, heavy fog and a river with a mind of its own. I will begin my diary tomorrow once I arrive in Finland. Even though it was very bloody cold, it was a great experience and I plan to return one summer and take a longer trip. I can now understand the obsession you guys have with the canals. As Arnie likes to say "I'LL BE BACK!" Regards Daryl

Hi All, Well this may be the last post before we board the big bird tonight. Hopefully we'll get the pleasure of meeting some of you along the canal. If anyone wants to catch up then email me at nsu581@hotmail.com I will be carrying an internet linked PDA so I will get your emails. If I don't get to post again because we are yet to pack, thanks for all your comments and suggestions (particularly about pubs and beer). Its been fun and I'm looking forward to posting my diary when I get home. Regards - Daryl