“Now this is boating!” himself declares as we leave another of the Kennet and Avon's broad locks. After a brief sojourn at Abingdon Avon Rose continued down the Thames. An overnight mooring at Goring was approached with navigation lights blazing as dusk was falling. Evenings are getting chillier, leaves are turning and falling. It is decidedly autumnal; “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” to lovers of Keats. While at Abingdon a new chimney was fitted along with a liner. When a fire is kept in all the time tars from coal and wood condense inside the chimney and run down inside. Because the chimney fits over a collar on the roof this then tends to run onto roof and down the side of the boat making a mess of the paintwork. The solution is to fit a liner which fits inside the collar on the roof so that any tar runs down inside the collar and down the stove pipe. That's the theory anyway. So himself did the business with the liner, sealing the joint between the liner and the top of the chimney with heat resistant sealant to stop tar leaking down between liner and chimney. If it doesn't work its back to plan B, a wheeze imparted to us by another boater. Use old socks filled with absorbent “cat litter” to soak up what trickles onto the roof. The fire has been lit and so far so good!

“I like the Thames!” herself declares; a statement greeted with low mutterings from himself. Sitting comfortably in the cratch, reading or doing Soduko or knitting; gazing out over green water meadows, woodland and sumptuous home counties dwellings with gardens and lawns sweeping down to a river bank lined with skiffs, launches and “plastic” boats. A leisurely wave to passing walkers and weekend boaters. She's in her element. Standing for hours at the tiller cruising down a wide waterway every so often steering into a large lock chamber to hold a mooring rope belayed round a bollard while a cheery lock keeper pressed the buttons to do the business is not himself's idea of boating. Hence the broad grin on his face as the Kennet is reached and he steps onto the towpath, dog at his heels, windlass tucked in his belt to raise paddles, control water and apply his weight to balance beams. “It's all in the buttocks you know!”. The closeness of the surrounding countryside, the constant shifting of course to navigate bends and bridge holes, the sight of a jewelled kingfisher skimming over the water beside the boat, the interludes of physical activity in negotiating locks and swing bridges. “This is boating!”

Between Reading and Newbury the Kennet and Avon Canal is, strictly speaking, the Kennet Navigation. The fast flowing River Kennet having been made navigable in the 1720's by the construction of weirs and locks and the insertion of stretches of artificial canal where the river channel was not suitable for the passage of the wide-beam boats that would ply their trade down to the Thames and London. The waterway was noted for its large turf-sided locks, cheaper to build than a brick or stone lined lock. The bottom of the chamber lined with wooden shuttering and the upper part a sloping turf bank. With a good flow of water down river, even in summer, the greater volume of water they used was not the problem it would have been on an artificial canal. Two of these turf sided locks still exist at Garston Lock and Monkey Marsh Lock. In other places they have had chambers reconstructed with steel piling or brick lined chambers have been created. The result is that locks on this section only have gate paddles on the uphill gates to admit water rather than ground paddles..With ground paddles sluice gates are built into the lock wall above the gates admitting water through and underground culvert into the lock chamber and water enters the lock below the water surface pushing up under the boat. With a gate paddle a jet of water comes through the gate and pours down into the lock chamber until the lock is almost half full and the opening is covered by the ring water. They create much more turbulence and, without care, water can cascade into the front well deck swamp a boat.

At Reading we moor in the loop in the navigation next to the Abbey ruins and Reading gaol (famous as the place Oscar Wilde was incarcerated). “We like Reading,” it had been decided. A two day stay and a chance to replenish our stores. The sun shines. field maple, sycamore and horse chestnut are showing their autumn colours and the need for a quick burst of reverse to clear the prop of a bolus of fallen leaves are sure signs of the turn of the year. Yet this is some of the best weather we have had for some time. Overnight stops at Theale and Woolhampton and here we are in Newbury; another place “we like”. We are in “home” waters

A Year On

Well that's it. We've completed our first year as "Grey Nomads", as a friendly antipodean informed me the other day as we sat on opposing balance beams waiting for the lock to empty. A new tenant in the house signed up for 12 months and preliminary plans made for another season's cruising must mean, year two here we come. Herself, forever with an eye out for a bargain, is feeling very smug, having picked up three carpet offcuts in Stone for a bargain price and has re-carpeted the whole boat ready for the new season.

But once more we are getting ahead of ourselves. When last you heard we were about to face the ordeal of the Wigan flight. Wigan flight? Piece of cake, don't understand what all the fuss is about. Horrendous they may have been once, but to be honest we have had to work harder on the K&A. Paired with another boat and with our nephew to expand our crew we made a good passage as the first boats down that day. The BW lock-keeper was there to see us on our way and send some water down to fill a shallow pound (local lads swimming the previous evening messing with the paddles).

At Wigan our nephew took the train back home, taking Micah with him! Big dog was going on his holidays; herself having decided that to leave our son to cope with the boat and both dogs while we swanned off to Cornwall for our holiday would be too much. Yes we know we're permanently on holiday; but a change is as good as a rest.

On to the Bridgewater Canal and once we are are through to Manchester we are back onto water we cruised when we first bought into Scimitar, our shared ownership boat. That was 12 years ago.

An interesting stop at Worsley, the place where the Duke of Bridgewater built his canal to serve his mines, the start of the canal mania of the 18th century. Picture box scenes hard to reconcile with what at that time must have been a harsh industrial landscape. The works beside the canal now a public park. Only the base of the works chimney left, converted into a monument to the age. Through Preston Brook tunnel and a queue for Dutton Stop lock as we once more join the Trent and Mersey Canal.

Last time we passed this way the Anderton Boat Lift that transports boats from the T&M to the river Weaver below was a rusting hulk awaiting restoration; the visitor centre a converted transport container in the car park. Now this marvel of Victorian engineering is fully restored and operational with a modern visitor centre and museum. Cruising on to the Weaver held no attraction for us and so we travelled down on the trip boat rather than take Avon Rose down just to come straight back up again. Interesting how much housing has sprung up around the canal in the environs of Middlewich since last we were here. Also we had forgotten how pleasant this upper end of the T&M is.

Up "Heartbreak Hill" to the Harecastle tunnel and we have now completed the navigation of the entire length of the Trent and Mersey this year,albeit in two episodes. And are we glad we were not here a week before as we hear tales of 3 hour queues for locks. It seems the stoppage half way up the Shroppie because of a massive leak on an embankment has forced more traffic onto the T&M.

So we arrive at Stone, south of Stoke on Trent and the aforementioned acquisition of carpet, fitted during a pause for a week. We leave the T&M at Fradley Junction for the Coventry Canal and a steady and uneventful cruise to the Oxford canal and a rendezvous at Napton on the Hill with our son where we drive off,courtesy of Enterprise hire cars' for a week in Cornwall. Sun, sand, castles pasties and delightful company; a change is as good as a rest. Also the excuse for the long period since our last post to this blog.

We are now back on the Thames at Abingdon where Ed killing time. We have arranged winter moorings in Bath once more; December through to the end of February. British Waterways' winter maintenance programme has been published and we will have a leisurely cruise through to our temporary winter home, ensuring that we don't get stranded by the scheduled stoppages. But for now, there's boating to do.