As part of the one year anniversary celebratory blogposts, let’s relive the highs and lows from the last 12 months. (In the manner of a sitcom which has run out of ideas so goes with a montage episode.) If I muster the energy, it might even be accompanied by a graph. (You’ll just have to read to the bottom to see if I bothered.) I’ll start with the lows.
In at number five is the time I parked my boat so badly, I broke an ornament in my next door neighbour’s boat. Steering has been a challenge when it comes to driving Double Fracture, though smashing an ornamental flower has served as an incentive to get better fast. Some of my crockery has not survived subsequent forays out of the marina, but at least I have not destroyed anyone else’s breakables since.
Holding steady at number four is the saga with the hole in the engine. From its discovery, to the spare parts that didn’t fit to the final bill, I could have cried for three days solid. Fortunately for me, I am not a cryer otherwise it could have left me dangerously dehydrated.
A shock entry at number three is the time my neighbour told me what fixing the hole in the engine actually should have cost. I couldn’t have felt more sick if he’d kicked me in the stomach.
Climbing to number two, or more accurately exploding to the top end of the chart, is the shower of shit over Sawley. How could the day in which I was covered in a month’s worth of toilet flushings be overlooked in a list like this? Surely the only question is, why is it not at number one?
So the worst moment of the year, 2014/2015’s number one is……the leaking water pump. It wasn’t as gross as the fountain of lavatory waste, or as depressingly expensive as the hole in the engine. But in terms of panic and feeling out of my depth (not helped by comments from the online forum I posted on telling me not to worry, but my hull was probably full of water), the water pump incident outstrips the other contenders.
There was the bad, now onto the good.
The fifth best moment was picking up the keys to my new home. The keys to my very own home, with no one else to annoy with my untidy ways, or to hint that I might like to take the rubbish out soon. No need to worry about not getting my deposit back, or that using bluetack on the walls is prohibited in the rental agreement. And not only that – it’s a boat. An actual floating boat, with an engine and rudder and everything. Exciting times.
A new entry at four was my first solo trip on a perfect autumn afternoon. I imagine there will be a list next year that involves the first time I take on a lock by myself, though whether this will be a high or a low remains to be seen.
Dropping to number three is the shower of shit over Sawley. Yes, it was a low point, standing there in front of my father dripping in the contents of the septic tank, but it remains my best boat story. And I love a good story. Not to mention the look on people’s faces as we reach the end of the tale.
A great moment, but not quite the best: the first trip to refuel makes it to number two. There were excited children running about, and excited adults running after them. We wouldn’t have broken any water speed records on the 300m round trip, but sometimes doing things quickly is not the best way forward. Which is just as well on a narrowboat.
And the finest moment of the last year in narrowboating terms. The first overnight trip was just tremendous. The company, the food (bread and boater pudding did not quite live up the brilliance of the pun), being able to go away for the weekend and not having to pack. And also finding out that next year’s trip will have a new addition to the crew – baby Trebble will be expected to pull his weight whilst on board.
This blogpost was brought to you by ‘Brick by Brick‘ by Newton Faulkner.
And of course there’s a graph.
adventures on narrowboats 