Whilst moored at Denham, Francine and I had been a little surprised at hearing the tell-tale squeak of Rose-ringed Parakeets (Psittacula krameri) around us. The sound of the bright green parrots was unmistakable. Given that they’d spread from Richmond park to Windsor made us begin to wonder how far up the canal towards Bedfordshire we might find them.

We were not now exactly on familiar territory but we were on what should be a more reliably predictable territory for the final leg of our journey back up the Grand Union Canal to Leighton Buzzard. Having spent a peaceful night in the countryside near Denham, we decided that we could afford a more leisurely start. However, we were up and cruising at 8:30 AM. 🙂

The day was uneventful. Now back on a reasonable towpath, Francine and I chose to begin by walking between the first few locks and covered 5 miles – not a bad leg stretch. Then we re-boarded Juniper and rode between the subsequent locks. Around Rickmansworth, we were still hearing the occasional squeak of a Rose-ringed Parakeet.

After Rickmansworth, the canal winds along the bottom edge of Cassiobury Park in Watford, Franco’s home town, and Cassiobury Park is just below Franco’s alma mater, Watford Grammar School. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of some nostalgic sight from 43 years ago but, alas, the canal was almost completely tree-lined so views of anything at all were mostly obscured. I did spot of a series of Rugby goal posts which resurrected a bad memory – that of sliding headlong in freezing mud as another boy’s studded boots trampled on my hand. I hate to play field sports.

The Cassiobury Park section of canal was attractive and quiet. With the park available for nostalgic walks, it would have been a pleasant place to pass an afternoon and evening but we continued on to cover a bit more ground – well, water.

As with the tides on the River Thames, the timing of a stop on the canal can … not critical exactly but certainly important. After Cassiobury Park and nearing the north-western edge of the Watford area, we were beginning to approach the ring of the jaM25. If we kept going very much further, we would not only run into a constant drone of traffic but also possibly run out of more rural, restful moorings. I say possibly because, even though an erstwhile local, it was a long time ago and my knowledge of this particular area these days is scant. However, I mustered Juniper’s crew and we strenuously suggested to Capt. Virginia that he might like to pause and take stock. He submitted to crew pressure and moored.

We’d covered a whole 11 miles, 5 of which Francine and I had walked. We were about 2 hours short of Francine’s calculated itinerary, which would have had us stopping at Kings Langley. This was a nicer stop and we had time to spare. We called it a day.

The Rose-ringed Parakeets were still with us at Watford. A flight of three squawked and flapped their way over the golf course adjacent to our carefully selected overnight moorings. There certainly weren’t any bright green parrots here when I’d been a boy at school. 😉

Day 12 Map

At the risk of repeating myself, entry onto the tidal part of the River Thames through Teddington Locks and subsequent exit from the tidal part of the River Thames onto the Grand Union Canal through Thames lock at Brentford is critically time dependent. With an unusual stroke of amazingly good fortune, with no forward planning whatsoever, we arrived at Teddington locks in readiness for today’s morning high tide at 8:24 AM. Timing really couldn’t have been any better.

What we didn’t know was how our transit was to be controlled so, after another miserable night sniffling, coughing and disturbing Francine, I wandered down to the lockkeepers at 7:30 AM (unlike the rest of the locks on the River Thames, Teddington locks are manned 24 hours a day) to see what the form was. I received a completely unexpected and rather unwelcome response.

The lockkeeper that that was due to have been at Thames Lock (Brentford) had phoned in sick. Thames Lock was currently not manned. The lockkeeper at Teddington had put in a call to the Port of London Authority and was waiting to hear back as to whether or not a replacement lockkeeper could be found in time – in time for the tide, that is. If no healthy lockkeeper could be found, we would not be allowed through Teddington Locks because we would be unable to escape onto the Grand Union Canal; we would have to wait another day. (The tide a day later would be about an hour later: ~9:30 AM). I was to return to the boat and the Teddington lockkeeper would wave us through if the problem at Thames Lock got resolved.

Marvellous! I couldn’t believe that any process so critical could be so fragile. I relayed the situation to a couple in another narrow boat waiting behind Juniper. We were lucky in that we now thought that we had a few days in hand and could afford to waste a day. The couple in the narrowboat waiting behind us could not.

At least if we did get stuck for a day, Richmond Park was a mere 1¾ miles away so Francine and I would have an unusually pleasurable distraction. Maybe we’d even be able to snag a photo of the delightful Rose-ringed Parakeets that we’d dubbed “squeaky toys” after the sound of their call which we’d been hearing since our stay at Windsor.

There had been another issue: apparently the police had closed the Hanwell flight of locks (6?) near the bottom of the Grand Union Canal but the lockkeeper thought that the closure was now over and that the queue of boats thus caused had cleared. The closure had been to enable a search for a young girl who had disappeared. Being out of touch with the news for a couple of weeks, we’d remained blissfully unaware.

After a modest wait, our nail-biting tension was released by a wave to proceed from the Teddington lockkeeper; it seemed that Thames lock was again operational and awaiting our arrival. Phew! A flotilla of three narrowboats went through Teddington Old Lock and entered the tidal Thames.

Capt. Virginia put the pedal to the metal and screamed off, in barge terms, at a blistering 6 mph ahead of the other two. He overtook a Guillemot, too, which I’d not seen before and which I thought was a little out of place. [Ed: Capt. Virginia was probably getting his own back for being overtaken by a duck at the start of the trip.]

We’d asked the Teddington lockkeeper if the entrance to the Grand Union Canal was obvious and were told it was not. Helpful! “Keep an eye out for a steel sculpture”, we were told. A little over an hour later we spotted a possibility. Being a sharp left turn of >90°, the entrance could be missed. Getting it right was not helped by the fact that our map seemed to show a marina before the canal whereas the marina entrance is actually after the canal. I wonder how that happened? With the now ebbing tide affecting Juniper a little, we made a hand-brake turn into the acute entrance to the Grand Union Canal. Coming from the other direction, there is a more visible sign declaring this to be the Grand union but signage from our direction is scant, to say the least. A pleasant young replacement lockkeeper helped us through the Thames lock onto the GUC proper.

After another powered lock operated by Franco, we were back to our 30+ minute water stops, this one hindered by another narrow boat that had used the service area as an overnight stop, against instructions. Thanks pal! At least a CRT employee knocked on his door and told him to move on.

The bottom end of the GUC was an experience and not one that any of us would care to repeat. We made our way slowly further north through ill-maintained locks with ratchets that didn’t work (hold the windlass to keep them open) and even a sluice that was missing, up a canal whose oil-filmed surface was often strewn with a near constant collection of discarded bottles, cans, plastic bags and general litter, past a frequently industrial landscape with lines of permanently moored boats some of which looked ready to sink. It was a depressing sight. Francine thought she even spotted a coconut drifting about. A lockkeeper, a CRT volunteer, further on told us it really probably had been a coconut: there’s a Hindu community at Southall who regularly chuck coconuts into the canal in the belief that they will make their way to the Ganges.

We paused at a Tesco Extra at Bulls Bridge, Southall, for more supplies and again met one of our flotilla of three from the Teddington run. Our shopping experience here felt like shopping in a foreign country. We were struck by the very different levels of stock in this store compared to those at our more usual haunts. Though this was a large store, the wine section was small so our choice was limited. The cheese section was smaller than I’d have expected, too, with little in the way of interesting varieties, and the fresh meat counter was all but empty with just three or four pieces of lamb available. Somehow we found a few days worth of supplies and continued.

There were occasional more pleasant interludes but the general ambience really didn’t start to improve until we left Uxbridge and Denham deep lock behind. Here we moored in a quiet, more rural location with no neighbours, either floating or sinking.

We’d made it through the tidal Thames so any time pressure was off. Now our onward journey should be more appealing.

Day 11 Map

After a night spent mainly in the company of my blocked nose and hacking cough, Captain Virginia didn’t want an under-the-weather Franco to have to deal with a Thames lock manually, so we left Windsor at 9:00 AM, when the lockkeepers should be on duty. With the flow of the river, it should be a relatively short cruise to the locks at Teddington, so there was no rush anticipated.

A few years ago, Francine and I had visited Richmond park to see something of the Red Deer rut. Whilst there, we were also interested to see the local feral population of Rose-ringed Parakeets (Psittacula krameri) which had established themselves there, possibly from captive escapees. We had heard their distinctive squawk whilst moored in Windsor and now began seeing them,sometimes on birdfeeders, as we cruised along. Clearly the parakeets’ initial bridgehead has spread. [Apologies for crappy distant photo on the run.]

The cruise was pleasantly uneventful and we were making good progress so we stopped at a riverside pub with a moorings in Kingston upon Thames for lunch. The menu looked good, including mussels and chips, or moules et frîtes as we Francophiles prefer to call it; Mrs. Virginia sounded particularly keen on those. Then we heard a lady exiting the pub muttering to her companion that the kitchen was closed and no food was available. Blast! 15 years ago we’d done a 1-week canal cruise with the Virginias and had twice failed to get food at canal-side pubs. This pub at least had an excuse – the pub’s kitchen was undergoing emergency maintenance. Fortunately an alternative existed; we wandered around the corner to a second pub and had a very decent lunch there.

Lunch over, we re-boarded Juniper, pushed off and continued on to Teddington locks. Yes, locks, plural. Teddington has three locks. There is the so-called Skiff Lock, a small lock for day boats and the like, the original “Old Lock” which I think we’ll be using, and the immense “Barge Lock” measuring an astonishing 670 feet long, or thereabouts – that’d take a time to fill. We tied up at the locks’ chargeable moorings and went to pay the lockkeeper.

Even Capt. Virginia is now looking forward to getting back onto the canal system. This may have something to do with issues navigating the River Thames, which can be a tad challenging for first timers. First of all, there are frequent side channels which can make it tricky to discern the main channel ahead. On the correct channel there are frequent swarms of rowers/scullers, all of whom are going the way they aren’t looking and many of whom are young, inexperienced, and prone to wandering all over the river. Even the experienced rowers going in a more predictable straight line do so with oars almost as wide as the river. Assuming you manage to avoid the rowing traffic going along the river, there is the occasional sailing club with dinghies tacking [a.k.a. zigzagging] haphazardly back and forth across the river with gay abandon, knowing they are in the right and that it’s up to the 16-ton, 62-foot, slow-to-respond narrow boat to avoid them. The dinghy sailors reminded me of French cyclists who can never be culpable.

We’ll be aiming to go through Teddington Old Lock at about 8:00 AM tomorrow.

Day 10 Map

Today Francine’s itinerary called for us to stop in Windsor. We set off reasonably early again and hit the first lock before the lockkeeper had arrived and whilst it was still on self-service. Franco disembarked to operate the lock.

Panic – the lock gate controllers were of a completely different design to those encountered so far. Naturally, the lock was empty and I needed to refill it. I couldn’t really see if the bottom gate sluices were closed, neither could I find a “close sluices” button. A light gleamed on the “open gates” button. I wandered up the the top gate controller and found no gleaming light whatsoever. A bold sign said, “if no light is on, use manual operation” Bugger!

The controller had a huge wheel with two levers to set what said huge wheel operated. I set the levers to the “open sluices” configuration and began winding. Darwin was it heavy, and I had to wind and wind and wind, seemingly interminably. There was no sign of anything lifting but after what seemed an age I saw water begin flowing into the lock. I continued winding wondering how I would know the sluices were fully open, there being no visible evidence of movement. After what seemed like another age and after changing arms several times, the previous arm having seized up, the wheel finally got even stiffer. I took this to mean the operation was finished, though a clue would have been nice. With no lights on, how did I know the lock was full? Darwin knows!

Finally, water flow seemed to calm down. Capt. Virginia turned up and wanted to try the “open gates” electric button. I pointed out the bold “if no lights … “ instruction but he’s American. He pushed the button. Nothing happened. I reset the levers to the “open gates” configuration. Once again, I wound the heavy wheel interminably. After a few minutes and a couple of heart attacks one lock gate slowly started moving. A few more arm changes, more heart attacks and several more ages of furious winding had just one gate open – enough for entry into the lock by a narrow boat. A small day boat joined Juniper.

A sour-faced lockkeeper seemed to have arrived (it was now just after 9:00 AM), but just wandered around us busying himself and saying nothing. Capt. Virginia volunteered to manually wind the top gate shut so I reset the levers for him and went to the lower gate. Finally the top gate was again closed and, in the land of electricity once more, I pushed and held the “open gates” button on the lower controller. To my relief, the gates opened.

Mr. Sourface approached but continued to say nothing. I decided to force the issue and said, “that manual operation wheel is a bear, I’m exhausted”. He looked a little quizzical and may have muttered his first word along the lines of, “why?”

“There’s no power on the top controller”, I explained.

“Yes there is”, he said, “but the bulb has blown”.

Ye Gods! Shit!! Bollocks!!! Given the permanent, bold “if no lights … “ instruction,  an explanatory sign would have been a considerate addition, I thought. I wanted to throw Mr. Sourface into his bloody lock. Fortunately, this bozo was an exception, all the other Thames lockkeepers have been perfectly personable.

Last night in Henley, we’d seen a marquee and an apparent finish line proclaiming Thames Path Challenge. A timing clock had been ticking on displaying a distressingly large number of hours as a runner drifted in. Leaving Henley this morning, we kept seeing almost constant bands of walkers along the Thames Path in various states of freshness/exhaustion.

Our fun and games with the unattended lock behind us, we stopped for our daily water fill-up where we were passed by yet more walkers. After what we’d seen yesterday, we asked if they’d been walking all night. “Yes”, they replied. They’d set out from Putney Bridge. “Strewth, bravo!”, was about all we could manage, or had time for given the speed with which our tank was filling up on the Thames.

After several more locks and yet more merry bands of walkers and a boat complete with guitarist for their entertainment, we arrived in Windsor and moored at about 3:00 PM. I simply wanted to sit and relax. Since Mrs. Virginia is suffering on the mobility front hip-wise, she was unable to investigate Windsor so we all stayed aboard drinking and watching aircraft making their final approach to Heathrow over Windsor Castle. If Ma’am can put up with a flight path, why can’t everybody else?

Another interesting issue is brewing in our race against the clock to get round the Thames Ring. The final Thames section, from Teddington to Brentford and back onto the Grand Union Canal through Thames Lock, is tidal and time dependent according to the state of the tides. Brentford Lock has limited working times around high tide. It’s about 90 minutes from Teddington Lock to Thames Lock, we think. Arrive at Teddington at the wrong time and you could lose a day waiting for the right time. Boaters are advised to phone Teddington Lock and Thames Lock to make arrangements.

After yesterday’s tingling throat, Franco was now beginning to cough, sniffle and splutter but gamely phoned Teddington Lock. We expect to go through on Tuesday when high tide would apparently be at 8:24 AM. If we could go through at about 8:00 AM we should be trying to avoid London on the GUC by about 10:00 AM giving a good length of day to make some progress back into relative civilization.

I also tried calling Thames Lock at Brentford but got an answering service. I left a message with my phone number. In the early evening, when I was really beginning to feel like shit and was taking a shower to try and improve my lot, the Brentford lockkeeper did call back. Francine answered and we were told to keep in touch, calling again once we were at Teddington.

We should arrive at Teddington Lock, which apparently has chargeable moorings, tomorrow afternoon.

Day 9 Map

After yesterday’s fun and games getting moored, Juniper was now facing the wrong way, i.e. back up river towards Oxford. I say wrong way, though personally I was considering returning the way we’d come in the knowledge that we could get back with a day or so to spare. Wimp! Unbelievably, though it felt as though we’d been afloat forever, this was only the first day of our second week aboard and we had Juniper booked for 2½ weeks. After a swift breakfast [Quelle surprise!] we cast off Juniper and Capt. Virginia performed another sluggish pirouette to get us underway heading back downstream and towards the first lock. After today, we’d be committed to finishing our circular route as originally intended.

We were underway at 8:00 AM, before the lockkeepers come on duty at 9:00 AM, so the first lock was set to “Self-Service”. Franco got to play with the sluice paddles and gate power buttons. Pressing a few buttons could make me soft – it’s certainly easier than the windlass winding and shoving of heavy gates approach necessary on the canals.

At our second lock we at last found a water supply and stopped to replenish Juniper’s tanks so that we could all take a shower today. We didn’t need Juniper’s hose ‘cos was a much heavier duty affair was supplied at the water point. Franco just about managed to cram the fat hose into Juniper and turned on the flow. Imagine our joy and surprise when Juniper’s tank was full in less than 10 minutes. Much better!

I was surprised to find that we were spotting the tell-tale vivid orange and iridescent blue flash of Kingfishers quite frequently as we cruised along the Thames. Trying to snag them at Capt. Virginia’s storming 6 mph was a challenge but we finally managed it, albeit from a distance. Cormorants drying their wings, on the other hand, were an altogether easier target.

Yesterday evening we had eventually managed to stop a little behind Francine’s calculated schedule based upon a published itinerary in the opposite direction. As we were travelling with the flow of the River Thames, our goal today was to get onto that schedule, which would have put us at Poplar Eyot, a spit west of Henley on Thames. However, we’d made good time and would be needing more supplies to get us through the sprawling mess that we call London. If we stopped at Henley, which boasts a Waitrose, Francine and I could do a food run in the early evening, saving a further time-wasting stop en route. We continued.

Given the popularity of Henley, I was a little concerned that the moorings might be full but, as we approached, we found that not to be so. We did, however, find it necessary to avoid some of the more difficult obstacles on the Thames – rowers and/or scullers. The elegant, very streamlined boats may be skinny things that cut through the water like a knife through butter but the blasted oars can span almost the entire river. It’s a curious mode of transport that doesn’t allow participants to look where they’re going, leaving the onus on everyone else. Capt. Virginia skilfully managed to avoid sinking any.

After 8½ hours and 10 locks we found a spot complete with mooring rings and snagged it. Actually, we found two moorings and moved from the first onto the second – a case of moor haste, less speed, perhaps? 😀

We’d completed what for us was a staggering 32 miles in 9 hours, such is the power of the River Thames compared to the canals. We were now on, or slightly ahead of, Francine’s calculated schedule; maybe I’d relax a little more. Phew!

We still had two days of supplies aboard but needed two more, we thought (!), to get through beyond London. Francine and I hit Waitrose, about a mile walk each way, to get two more meal options with suitably long shelf lives and, most importantly, two more days-worth of wine. It should be noted that the life expectancy of wine aboard Juniper was very short. 😀

Shopping completed and £9.00 mooring fees eventually paid, after a fight with the ticket machine (it seemed to accept only £9-worth of coins), we settled in for a more relaxed evening.

Oh, Francine and Franco are developing what appears to be a cold – sore throat and croaking. We think this was imported from the QM2.

Day 8 Map

Today we were heading through Oxford and into the unknown territory (for us) of the River Thames. Francine and I began again by walking ahead of Juniper, largely so we could prepare various lift bridges and locks before Juniper’s arrival.

Fresh water was taken on at Thrupp in a marina positioned on the inside of a sharp 90° bend in the canal – a mere 30 or so minutes this time. On the exit from the 90° bend was an electrically operated lift bridge requiring the BWB/CRT key [British Waterways Board/Canal and River Trust], the same one as is needed to unlock the water points.

Francine and I continued walking and operating locks for Juniper and few other boats that we met, until we reached the lock on the outskirts of Oxford immediately prior to the beginning of Duke’s Cut, one of two routes onto the Thames.

Our new lock buddies both chose to go down to the Thames through the Duke’s Cut, a relatively narrow, sinuous route, while Capt. Virginia elected for the straighter shot through to Isis Lock slightly further east on the Thames. A manoeuvrable plastic day boat approached us and first disappeared behind the drooping boughs of a weeping willow on the left of the canal, before suddenly popping back out from behind the willow right into our path … and Juniper’s bows. Its reappearance was so sudden that no avoiding action was possible on our part, not that the 62-feet Juniper would have responded fast enough anyway. Being plastic, the day boat bounced off us but seemed to suffer no damage. Juniper, with her bulletproof steel hull, was certainly undamaged and didn’t really notice.

The remainder of our approach to Isis lock was uneventful, though we did have to disturb one of Oxford’s homeless who was snoozing on the lock gate arms, apparently having chosen the Isis Lock as his home base. He was friendly enough though, especially as I apologized.

The turn after exiting the lock was even sharper than at the marina, >90°, and, of course, we met another boat approaching the lock in the opposite direction right at the turn – typical! There seems to be an unwritten rule of the water that opposing craft will be met in areas of maximum inconvenience, either a narrow section lined with moored boats or on blind bends, usually with a bridge built across them. The opposing boat having been avoided, a short run took us to another 90° bend and onto the River Thames itself.

This being a weekend, we were expecting the Thames to quite busy – boys out playing with their toys, etc. Our first encounter on the river was with a wide plastic bathtub of a cruiser that we met right by a fallen tree obstructing our side of the river. Capt. Virginia slowed as swiftly as Juniper’s mass and momentum would allow but decorated her with a fine collection of leaves and twigs. [Another good example of the unwritten rule.]

A further pulse-quickening event happened shortly afterwards when a very small inflatable powered by a small outboard motor approached and very suddenly chose to dive across our bows before stopping dead right in our path. Great! Capt. Virginia initiated what passes for an emergency stop when a boat weighing 16 tons is slammed into full-astern. Amazingly, Juniper actually did stop. The occupants of the inflatable blushed, apologized, announced that their outboard had cut out, that it had done so previously, and took to paddling furiously with a short pair of oars to escape. We proceeded wondering what might happen next.

What happened next was our first lock on the Thames. As the lock team, Francine and I were looking forward to a considerable rest because the locks on the River Thames are powered and operated by a lockkeeper. A license, which can be purchased from the lockkeepers, is require for cruising on the River Thames. We approached the lock and stopped at the so-called lay-by. I sauntered up to the lockkeeper, who was about to go for lunch but who graciously (?) hung around long enough to sell me a 7-day cruising license costing ~£70 – the exact price appears to be based on length of boat. He then switched the lock to “Self Service”, pointed me at the sluice and gate controller panels at either end of the lock, and wandered off to lunch. I switched from physical effort to mental effort while I tried to work out what to do. So much for the lock team getting a rest. 🙂

More supplies were needed and Abingdon provides excellent free moorings for boaters. We went ashore to take advantage of one of our favoured Waitrose supermarkets where it’s possible to shop in a civilized manner. Actually, Abingdon would have been a very pleasant place to spend a day but we were still not that sure of our schedule (more on this later) so, once restocked, we continued.

Travelling in the same direction as the flow of the River Thames, Juniper’s speed relative to the land pretty much doubled; Capt. Virginia had her doing a nimble 6 mph, albeit accompanied by considerable noise and vibration. I hope we weren’t upsetting the locals too much.

Later in the afternoon, we began looking at the river maps for possible overnight moorings. Two different publications disagreed precisely on where moorings might be found and some of those we passed looked too muddy and shallow. Cows standing calmly in the river might be a good indicator of a bank that is too shallow.

Eventually we settled on some apparent moorings just before our next lock. Three boats were already moored. Between two of the boats was a Juniper-sized gap followed by a further gap to yet another boat. Capt. Virginia headed for the first gap … and Juniper ran aground. Terrific! A good deal of manoeuvring, together with juggling of the throttle and tiller, got Juniper afloat again. Phew!

We had passed another apparent mooring option a little further back. Fortunately, the Thames is wide enough for a 62’ boat to perform a sluggish pirouette and return. We did return and found that a boat we’d crossed going in the opposite direction had snagged the better of the two options. Drat! We just about managed to get into another spot a few yards further back. The skipper of the boat having snagged our preferred spot approached to see if we were in a suitable spot, offering the possibility of rafting off him. What a nice man. He said he’d been looking for a mooring spot since 4:30 PM, had tried the place we’d just tried and similarly failed, and that he’d had this difficulty on the Thames every day. Rafting off him was unnecessary.

Mooring in the quiet countryside on the Thames appears to be fraught with difficulty so we resolved to stay at moorings in towns, paying where necessary, from here on.

Thames Ring Day 7

After our making little progress yesterday courtesy of a few necessary chores combined with deciding to have a relaxing lunch, we needed to cover a bit more ground today. At least, we thought we did.

A usual rental cruise on the canals is a there-and-back affair in which you cruise outbound for half the time, then turn your boat around and return for the second half. As long as you plan your “winding” [turning] point  – most narrow boats are longer than the canal is wide – all is well.

The trouble is that faced with a circular trip such as this Thames Ring, there’s no easy way of knowing where half way around is. Knowing is necessary so that, if you find you’re not going to make it, you can turn back and retrace your initial steps in time to return the boat.

Half way round in terms of distance means little, what is really needed is half way in terms of time. Each lock (there are 175 of them) typically takes 15 minutes. Since the number of locks on different stretches of the canal varies greatly, half way in terms of time is terribly hard to gauge. It can be estimated given the correct information but the estimate gets torn up if you end up following one or more boats into a section of locks – 15 minutes per lock can become 30 minutes or more. Recently we passed a boat heading north that had been forced to wait 60 minutes to get into one lock on a busy section – bang went an hour of their cruising. You begin to see the difficulty.

Prior to our leaving, Francine had found a published detailed itinerary for the Thames Ring, albeit in the opposite direction, clockwise, i.e south down the Grand Union Canal, up the Thames to Oxford and north up the Oxford Canal. Francine plotted the days on our route map, read it backwards ‘cos we were going anti-clockwise, and figured out that we seemed to be on schedule. We think we need to get through Oxford and onto the Thames on Friday (tomorrow), though. Hopefully our Thames section should be a little quicker than the published route because we’ll be going with the flow of the river rather than against it.

Last night, we’d moored near one of many lift bridges along the Oxford Canal. The bridges being a little more photogenic than locks, Francine had been eyeing it up hoping for some decent morning light, so her first order of business today was to get out and snag it.

Satisfied that we could proceed, Capt. Virginia’s first order of business, after breakfast, of course, was to perform the daily maintenance checks: engine oil, engine cooling water, rear bilges and a grease gland for the propeller. These done, we got under way.

Once again, Francine and I started the day walking ahead of the boat for 5 miles to a fresh water point which proved to be even slower than usual taking almost an hour, darn it. Then Juniper’s engine decided it didn’t want to restart. Juniper’s now unpowered bow drifted casually across the canal ‘cos silly ol’ Franco had cast off prematurely. Tut, tut! This is the third time Capt. Virginia has had difficulty starting so we called Wyvern Shipping to let them know. As it’s an intermittent problem so far, there’s little more to be done but we wanted to log it with them. Eventually the starter motor turned over and Juniper chugged into life. We continued, Franco having learned a valuable lesson – never cast of until the engine is running. Oops!

Locks were sporadic and, as usual, were set against us but the now efficient locking team of Francine and Franco kept our merry band moving. Then Franco gave Capt. Virginia a rest at the tiller – it’s mentally hard work requiring complete concentration – and Capt. Virginia switched roles to lock operator. We did catch another cruise boat for a few locks and had to wait for them to “lock down” before we could follow suit.

At one lock, Francine was spitting feathers because a brilliant blue and orange Kingfisher caught a fish and alighted about 6 feet from her while it stunned and consumed its catch – and there she stood armed with a windlass instead of a camera. Never mind, at least she had the privilege of seeing it, which is more than I did. Bother!

Towards the end of our cruising day, the Oxford Canal is actually a short stretch of the River Cherwell. What a difference that made. Juniper began moving a little more quickly and became noticeably more responsive to the tiller [Ed: mind you, that’s not difficult]. This, I’m told, is because the River Cherwell has a decent depth of water under Juniper’s keel whereas the Oxford Canal is very shallow. We won’t dwell on it but Capt. Virginia had run aground near the edge on a couple of occasions a day or so ago. I was convinced he had been trying to straighten Juniper’s rudder. 😀

We exited the Cherwell and re-entered the Oxford Canal proper, through a curious and heavily gated diamond-shaped lock, at about 6:00 PM and looked for a place to stay overnight. We were in a pleasantly rural and seemingly completely silent location above Kidlington. A lift bridge ahead of us was in the down position so we’d have to pull in anyway. We called a halt for a drink. There’s just one boat near us and I think that’s unoccupied. Blissful silence reigned.

In a reasonably trouble-free day we’d managed almost 18½ miles in a little over 9 hours. Clearly, 2 mph is all that can be achieved. Our Canal Companion suggests we are about 4 hours from the Thames but we’ll need our daily slow water fill up so it’ll probably be a good 5 hours.

Day 6 Map

Well, an early start was our plan and an early start we had. Somehow we managed to get our boatload of tourists up and ready by 7:00 AM. Wandering the short distance to our first lock of the day, Francine was inexorably drawn to a field full of cows and early morning mist. Our weather luck was continuing and yet another sunny day was in prospect but we are entering the time of year when misty mornings are common.

Photographic urges satisfied, we started off a little after 7:00 AM. Since we thought that the last moving traffic yesterday evening was heading up the locks, we were very surprised and a little upset to find that all five of the locks in the first flight were set against us – empty; Francine and I had to fill them before Capt. Virginia could slip Juniper into them. A flight of locks is where having two lock operators comes in handy: having started one lock, a second operator can go on to the next lock and prepare it before the boat arrives. After four days of practice, by now Francine and I were like a well-oiled machine and we did five locks in under an hour, a truly Olympic performance.

Since we had now used up all the provisions that we brought on board with us, today was always going to have to include a shopping trip. Every day has a water delay, too, and all the water taps we’ve found so far have been slow, taking between 30 and 45 minutes to fill Juniper’s fresh water tank. Added to all this, Banbury is a busy little town jammed with moored boats [no surprise there, then]. With an interesting waterfront anticipated, we decided to increase our time in Banbury even more by trying to find an interesting lunch venue.

Given the sequence of things along the canal, our first stop was our search for lunch. We moored just before the Banbury canal=front itself and sauntered in on foot. What we found was not quite what we expected. The first thing that we noticed was a pleasant enough bridge over the canal, a bridge very colourfully planted with flower baskets. So far so good. The canal-front had clearly been extensively developed with cleanly paved sides. Naturally all moorings here were taken. It was when looking around for the expected plethora of bars, cafes and restaurants that our surprise came. We saw just one cafe, and that with outside tables and chairs largely in the shade of a pedestrian overpass. One bank of the canal was given over to the back of a modern shopping centre, the only thing fronting the canal being the series of service bays for the shops contained therein. On the opposing bank, other than our Hobson’s choice cafe, there seemed to be just a car park and a block of flats. Perfectly pleasant though the flats were, this all felt like a completely wasted opportunity. Barking mad! [Left photo below, courtesy of Ian Rob, right photo below by Paul Gillett.]

The cafe that was present displayed a Greek theme and served Francine and I some very acceptable calamari whilst Capt. and Mrs Virginia chose a burger served with a strangely vivid beetroot mayonnaise [I’m sure it tasted good but it looked odd – this is why I am not a great fan of beetroot]. The waterfront, though, could have been so much more.

Appetite and thirst sated, our next stop was water. We’d hoped Banbury might have decent water pressure. Not so, 35 minutes. A passing narrow boat professional informed me that this was a slow tap. No kidding, aren’t they all?

Eventually we cut loose from the slow tap and went on to our third stop for food and booze. A few bridges further on we’d been told there was a Morrison’s supermarket within spitting distance of some mooring and the bridge. We duly moored, carried all our empty wine bottles (‘cos Morrison’s have recycling bins which is more than I can say for the Canal and River Trust) and went shopping for several days of food and replacement bottles of wine. As a special request from Capt. Virginia, we bought a pound of scallops for scallops with red peppers and rice. We successfully returned to Juniper with three more days-worth of food together with 21 more bottles of wine, too. Well done team!

By now the cruising day was almost over so we left Banbury behind us and found a spot of the canal that maximized our distance from the twin noise generators of a railway line and the constant drone of the M40. We were beside a photographically attractive lift bridge which Francine had her eye on.

In a whole day, we’d managed a staggering 12 miles. Darwin this mode of transport is slow!

Day 5 Map

Having moored overnight in a very rural part of the Grand Union–Oxford link canal, the towpath looked favourable so Francine and I decided on another start on foot. We cast off Capt. Virginia and walked 5½ miles into the Oxford Canal proper and onto a fresh water point. We walked mostly ahead of Juniper which was once again forced to travel slowly passing many moored boats. No locks were involved and walking pace again beat Juniper over our 5½-mile stretch.

In the early morning sun, Francine and I began disturbing a few dragonflies which, still not thoroughly warmed up, seemed keen to settle back on the hedgerow running beside the canal. One Migrant Hawker (Aeshna mixta) perched very prettily on some blackberries, perhaps hoping to snag a fly or two as breakfast. A late season Banded Demoiselle (Calopteryx splendens) also put in an appearance. Since my GPS was running to track our course, I started making dragonfly records for later submission as we went along.

All the water points on the system appear to be very slow and it took us about 40 minutes to fill our water tank. Dull stuff waiting for a slow hose. Finally filled with fresh water, we were heading straight into a flight of  five locks at Napton, followed by another two slightly further on at Marston Doles.

Whereas the Grand Union is a wide canal with double width locks, the Oxford Canal is a narrow canal with single width locks with just a couple of inches either side of the boat. Having had enough of walking, Francine and Franco leapt aboard and Franco took the tiller to have a go at rattling into the locks at Napton. I think my first approach was my best, what an airline pilot might call a greaser if he made a smooth landing. Beginner’s luck. On subsequent attempts, instead of getting better, boat rattling seemed to be on the increase, culminating in a bang or two in some cases, rather than gliding noiselessly into a lock.

The more experienced Capt. Viriginia and I both agreed that Juniper steers like a pig; she has a predilection to veer to port. Take your eye off the canal for a second and the bow veers left making la rive gauche approach alarmingly quickly. Slam Juniper into reverse and the bow seems to leap left, too. It’s a very peculiar trait and much less than relaxing; tiller work requires extreme concentration. We suspect Juniper’s rudder may be less than perfectly straight.

Following the locks and after about 12 miles of straight cruising, we were approaching another flight of 5 locks at Claydon followed by a short run and a further three locks to descend into Cropredy. We had a decision to make: start the locks or stay uphill of them? Our downhill run could be broken in between the two sections of locks but that was about it for choice. Since we were in a peaceful, rural location at the top of the locks, we decided to stop cruising and start drinking, leaving the locks for an early morning start. The theory of an early morning start (about 7 AM) was designed to enable us to run through the series of locks without hindrance from other boats.

We’ll see if our theory works out.

Day 4 Map

Having pitched up – well, moored up, I suppose, since we’re on a boat – about 5 miles short of Weedon Bec yesterday evening and, there being sunshine and no locks in the offing, this morning Francine and I decided to get some exercise by walking along the towpath to Weedon Bec. Weedon Bec was a suitable stop for two things, our daily water top up and a pharmacy for Mrs Virginia’s sinus problem/cough/cold (whatever it is).

Our morning walk was both very pleasant, being through open countryside in the early sunshine, and very educational. Francine was using her Nordic walking poles and set off a good pace, while I was just plain walking, complete with camera in rucksack, giving me a chance to get a different view of Juniper.

The educational bit was that our walk proved our suspicion to be correct – Francine and I beat Juniper to Weedon Bec by a good five minutes and that’s with no intervening locks to impede the boat’s progress. What does almost constantly slow the boat’s progress is the moored boats scattered liberally along most sections of the canal, so most of the time you’re on tick-over avoiding creating any wake. Once Juniper arrived, we waited between 30 minutes and an hour while our water tank filled painfully slowly.

Weedon Bec is an interesting place. It was apparently chosen as the place to hide King George III when Napoleon was conquering vast swathes of Europe. Fortunately, Napoleon was stopped in his tracks before that became necessary. As well as cough mixture for Mrs Virginia, it also supplied us with a dump for our rubbish.

Back underway, we eventually negotiated the seven locks up towards Braunston. We weren’t yet quite at Braunston, though, that required another 2000-yard tunnel followed by a further six locks down. Braunston Tunnel differs from Blisworth Tunnel in that it doesn’t drip water all over ones head. Navigating Blisworth Tunnel would have best been done in the company of an umbrella.

Braunston Tunnel was no problem and felt considerably shorter than 2/3rds of Blisworth Tunnel yesterday. The same could not be said for the six locks down towards Braunston. Approaching the first lock, we came across a canal-system blockage – workers had drained the top lock and intervening pound in order to perform some maintenance work on the lock gates. An hour delay ensued, assisted by wine, during which time six other boats queued up behind us. Ultimately, the work was finished, the lock and lower pound were refilled, and we continued on our way. At least we’d been at the head of the queue.

Naturally, a few boats had also been held up trying to lock-up so traffic levels were high; our down-bound lock full of two boats threaded its way between an opposing up-bound lock full of two more boats. I was glad I was operating locks as opposed to driving.

We eventually exited the last of the six locks and crawled past the floating city on the canal at Braunston Junction. It was not a pretty sight. We were happy to turn onto the combined Oxford/Grand Union link canal that would eventually lead us to the Oxford Canal proper before finding a calm, rural mooring place for the night.

The unscheduled Canal and River Trust lock maintenance had cost us an hour and a couple of miles; we’d covered about 19 miles in a little over 10 hours.

Tomorrow we’ll enter the Oxford Canal proper and hit a flight of nine locks.

Day 3 Map