I say sprint ‘cos today was a short run of just about 2 miles, about an hour, back to Juniper’s home base at Wyvern Shipping in Leighton Buzzard. Narrow boats don’t really sprint even when they are not having to slow to pass moored craft. 🙂

It was another dry morning, though a little dull. What a September we’d had and what weather for what has turned out to be our 2-week trip. We’d had a few spots of rain on our first afternoon/evening but that was it; after that, we’d enjoyed mainly sunny, dry conditions. Good job, too, ‘cos steering a narrow boat and messing with locks in the rain would have been most unenjoyable.

Our first task after casting off this morning was to negotiate the very last one of the documented 175 locks on the Thames Ring. (I imagine that the 175 includes the several manned/powered locks on the River Thames but I haven’t checked.) Francine was all dressed up for her anticipated disembarkation so Franco did this, the Grove Lock, tout seul.

With the 175th lock successfully behind us, Capt. Virginia began cruising slowly passing moored boats and Tiddenfoot Park. His final sprint wasn’t plain sailing in that this was Saturday so the canal suddenly filled with swarms of canoeists most of whom were school children. Embarrassing last minute collisions were mercifully avoided.

Capt. Virginia continued round a few bends, under our final bridge, passed the Leighton Buzzard Tesco store to our right [sorry, starboard] and began to swing across the canal to Juniper’s moorings at Wyvern’s boatyard. Just as he was doing so, yet another swarm of canoeists, older this time, descended upon us from ahead shouting “narrow boat, narrow boat!” to each other in warning. Despite their warning each other, nobody seemed to slow down, I noticed. This narrow boat skipper now had 2 weeks worth of experience under his tiller arm and avoided them. They may have been faster than Juniper but they weren’t going to get to us before we made it to the dock.

We tied up and unloaded while Capt. Virginia completed the scant formalities of bringing the boat home three days early.

We’d done it, we’d completed the Thames Ring in 2 weeks, which it was originally said could be done. I confess, though, that for most of the time, I had generally doubted it.

Our journey had certainly been an experience but in truth had been little more than cruise, cruise, lock, lock. We’d done pretty much nothing in the way of tourism. This was entirely due to the timing uncertainties of our circular route with no quick way back. Having done it once, were we to do it again our experience would enable us to pace the journey more and to pick places to stop off and relax en route. We were all agreed, though, that we would not do it again even with the luxury of knowledge and more time time.

Enjoyable though our trip was in the company of exceptional friends, the canals just aren’t what they were 15 years ago.

Day 15 Map

Our penultimate day. Having made good time round The Ring and looking as though we’d complete the trip with a few days in hand, there had been talk aboard of using our extra time diverting down the Aylesbury Arm and back. However, even our captain seemed to be looking forward to a change so we opted for the straight shot home.

A narrow-boating friend of ours used to say of cruising on the canals, “4 miles an hour, 4 locks an hour”. It’s a common epithet. These days, I’d say that the “4 miles an hour” has been blown out of the water by the sheer number of moored boats now strewn along almost every stretch of the canal. However, given a little fortune, I  think the expectation of 4 locks an hour, i.e. 15 minutes through each one, can still hold true.

Today is Francine’s birthday [happy birthday Francine] and, having rejected a diversion to Aylesbury, our plan was to cruise from Berkhamsted to Grove Lock just south of Leighton Buzzard, only a mile or so from Juniper’s home boat yard with Wyvern Shipping. This is a trip of just 15 miles but there is a daunting total of 26 locks en route. A swift mental calculation suggests that we’d spend some 6½ hours just locking up and down. In the unlikely event that we could cover the water at 3 mph past all the obstructions, we’d be adding about 5 hours cruising suggesting a total time of 11½ hours. That’d make us late for Francine’s birthday meal with friends at the other end. Nail-biting stuff.

After a night at our pleasant Berkhamsted mooring, we hit the water at 8:30 AM straight into the first lock, after which we stopped for water. With Juniper’s debugged hose reel, our fill up took a mere 10 minutes instead of the best part of an hour. Just think, had we fixed it earlier, we could’ve saved a whole day. 😀

We didn’t encounter any traffic earlier in the trip and progress through locks was about as swift as it can get, especially with the lock team of Franco and Francine walking ahead preparing more closely separated locks in advance of Juniper’s approach. Lunch time saw us near Marsworth and the Red Lion pub. Capt. Virginia generously decided that his tiring crew deserved a lunch break so we moored in a suitable gap. Welcome though the break was, I couldn’t help but think, “yikes, we haven’t got time in hand to stop”.

After a pint and a bite, we resumed locking down towards LB. Quite soon we bumped into the back (not literally) of a broad-beamed lunch-cruise boat also locking down with a bunch of diners on board. Delay. Fortunately this delay was short because after one lock it pulled into its home base at Pitstone Wharf.

A closed swing bridge appeared on the horizon. I grabbed the CRT [Canal and River Trust] key and hopped ashore with Francine. This was not a powered swing bridge but a manual one, however. Francine and I shoved it round, paused as Juniper went by, then shoved it closed again.

Potential disaster struck: we came up behind another broad-beamer locking down and locking down very slowly, at that. The vessel was effectively being operated single-handed, its female crew member seemingly unable to help in any constructive way. Whilst knocking oneself out for another might seem over generous to some, I had a vested interest in helping this floating roadblock’s progress in order to speed our own as much as possible. I helped get him through before getting Juniper through.

The situation repeated itself at several more locks. “How much do you charge for this service?”, asked our unwelcome travelling companion, jovially. I smiled and threw into our conversation the information about a dinner reservation this evening for my wife’s birthday. “Oh, mustn’t miss that”, he said, continuing to impede our progress.

Mercifully at Slapton, just two locks before the Grove Lock, we rounded a corner to find the broad beamed boat mooring up for water. My double-locking would hopefully now be over, as would any further delays.

Time was running out so the ladies showered underway. Some straight cruising time remained so Franco also managed to grab a shower under way, although potentially two more sweat-inducing locks still remained. I say potentially because we need not necessarily go through Grove Lock itself, depending upon the availability of mooring above the lock.

As we approached our destination at the end of a rather fraught journey, two pairs of dinner friends, enrolled to help Francine celebrate her birthday, had wandered up the tow path to welcome us. The sight of them was very welcome and made our homecoming feel like returning after a round-the-world epic. At 6:30 PM we moored above Grove Lock for a pre-prandial glass of fizz and tension-releasing natter. Stopping short of Grove Lock, we’d actually done 25 locks in about 10 hours, including a lunch break, though I’d personally done four or five of those locks twice each courtesy of helping our obstruction make progress. I’ll claim 30 locks in one day. 😉

A tough day was brilliantly rounded off by an excellent birthday meal shared with friends at the Grove Lock [another Fuller’s house, as you can see – told you a theme was developing].

Re-joining Juniper by clambering back over the lock gates in the dark was an interesting experience – good job we hadn’t had too much to drink. 🙂

Day 14 Map

Working ones way north up the Grand Union Canal from London involves a lot of locks. After a lazy day yesterday getting to the north-western side of Watford, today we were anticipating tackling 23 locks along the 11-mile stretch to Berkhamsted, where a civilized shopping opportunity (i.e. Waitrose) awaited us.

The morning began cool and overcast but Franco and Francine soon warmed by walking between and operating the first flurry of locks scattered at approximately half-mile intervals along the first five miles.

Interestingly, on leaving Watford we stopped hearing the tell-tale squeaking of any Ring-necked Parakeets. I had been fascinated to see just how far their range had expanded towards us and now I think I have my answer. Currently, my old home town of Watford in Hertfordshire seems to be as far as as they have spread in our direction towards Bedfordshire.

Progress was smooth given little in the way of other traffic and was particularly aided by several locks bearing CRT instructions to leave them empty, meaning they were already set in our favour. This seems like another good reason for doing the Thames Ring in the anticlockwise direction, the first being to travel with the flow of the River Thames.

As the day continued, so did the locks. The clouds, however, dissipated and the sun began shining on an ever warmer lock team of Franco and Francine. 24°C was anticipated and, combined with the physical labour, appeared to get too much for some.

With a few locks being spaced a little further apart so, our legs and arms beginning to notice their hitherto almost constant effort, Francine and I began hopping on and off Juniper to ride between our physical workouts. When more locks were grouped into flights, we reverted to walking between those. It’s surprising what you see alongside an English canal on foot – the parrots are nothing.

Skirting Hemel Hempstead the canal runs through Apsley Mills where we came across what I think is a fine example of canal-side redevelopment. On one side is a marina overlooked by attractive housing whilst on the other side was an delightfully presented Fuller’s bar/restaurant with very appealing canal-side external seating. What a welcoming atmosphere in which to while away an hour or two. Take note, Brackley.

After locking our way up beyond Apsley Mills, we needed our regular water stop and were bemused to find a CRT working barge moored so as to partially obstruct the water point. Brilliant! Capt. Virginia juggled Juniper’s bow in and rafted her stern off the working barge in such a way that Juniper’s water hose would just about reach when fully extended. Eureka, all was revealed! The very last six inches of the hose, until now hidden within the reel, was twisted and flattened. Small wonder that all our water stops had been taking getting on for an hour. We corrected it. What a shame we would have but one day left to benefit from our discovery.

With yet more locks in the offing we, of course, did not while away an hour or two but kept on to Berkhamsted (where, incidentally, we passed another similarly attractive and welcoming-looking canal-side Fuller’s bar/restaurant – a theme emerges). Finally, we ended our 11-mile trip to Berkhamsted having walked about 7 miles of it. Once in Berkhamsted, we found a very pleasant free mooring spot beside the park, though the mooring/no mooring sign had us confused until a man painting his double-wide barge cleared things up for us. Comfortable that we were parking legally, Juniper was securely moored and, with a weary Franco voting with his beer glass and dipping out, a raiding party was despatched to Waitrose to see what booty could be traded from the natives.

Our Berkhamsted mooring spot meant we stopped just short of what would have been our 23rd lock of the day. That means we’ll have an extra lock to do tomorrow to get to the Grove Lock in Leighton Buzzard. So, a day of just 25 more locks tomorrow, then. Arghhh!

Day 13 Map

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