Tag Archives: River

Back in Harness

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We spent quite a while looking at cows. When we had got off the boat, or disembarked, which sounds much grander, the cows had been at the far end of the field, but as we turned from our perambulations they were close by the fence.

NotCat sat down. He watched. He lay down to give them his full attention but in comfort. I stood. The path was damp and muddy. Minutes passed. I took some photos. I got bored, and decided if we were going to watch cows all evening I wanted to sit down. I carried NotCat to the steps. The moment I had got comfortable, he lost interest in cows and turned his attention to boats. We crunched along the gravel.

NotCat did that cat thing of walking along the very edge while I held my breath and suggested the grass was nicer to paws. Continue reading →

Weekly Photo Challenge: Peaceful, Take Two

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Some more pix on this prompt. I find it interesting how many of us associate water with peacefulness, though the photograph with the prompt didn’t strike me as peaceful.

So, to kick off, here is the marina under snow last winter. When there is no one about, the marina is the most peaceful spot I know. I feel my breathing change when I am there.

Marina Under Snow

Summer this time, still at the marina, and the swan parents have a new brood.

The Swan Family


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Weekly Photo Challenge: Hidden Take Two

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The rain began on Thursday evening, and I went to sleep with the sound of it on the roof of the boat. When I woke in the morning it had stopped and the temperature had dropped. The marina was cloaked in a shroud of mist that was deeper by the river’s edge and stretched away across the fields, hiding the flat landscape under a white cloud.

Continue reading →

Feline Adventures on the Gunwhale

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The shaky video is down to my nerves I’m afraid, but it is a recording of Not Cat’s first steps on the gunwhale. He was very cautious. Too cautious perhaps. More likely to lose his balance through indecision. Later, in the early hours, we both watched one of the feral cats showing us how it’s done. She leapt confidently onto das Boot from the path, peered inside and when she realised she was being watched in return, leapt equally confidently onto the pontoon and disappeared into the night.

Still, I’m proud of my boy, and I’m looking forward to documenting his progress, but I think we might wait until the spring to let him really explore.

Afloat Again

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This is from last night, when the connection kept failing, as it well may do today too.

Due to the rain earlier today, I ummed and ahhed about coming East. I don’t like the mud/boat combination. Too much cleaning and dirty bits of newspaper are involved. So it was as the sun was setting that we arrived. The view across the fens on the approach road was beautiful.I was tempted to stop and get out my camera, but common sense prevailed. It had been a lovely afternoon and the countryside in its late autumn colours, under blue skies, was like a travel brochutre with knobs on.

We are alone. There is no one else at the marina, and from the lack of cars, I’d say no one out on their boat from here either. It could be scary but it’s not. I rather enjoyed showing Not Cat the ropes. He hasn’t been on das Boot since May, though he had a mooch about the marina a few weeks ago.

Some bad moments when I came aboard ahead of Not Cat. I wanted to turn on the electrics and run the engine for a while to get us hot water. The engine wouldn’t start. My heart fell. But I got a new battery earlier in the year, so even while I was envisaging an evening with the battery charger on and the floor up, I persevered. Hurrah! Lift off.

I didn’t think the Ginger Ninja would particularly enjoy the sound, so I left him in his box while I unloaded the car. I hope that in future I’ll be able to let him out to sniff around and then make his own way down to the boat as Cat learned to do.

Not Cat explored while I unpacked and wiped surfaces, cleaning the spider poo of the last few weeks and washing down the draining board. He seemed fine, so I guess he must have left his territorial marks, fortunately not pungent ones, back in May.

I thought the boat would be cold, but although I’ve added a fleece and the electric blanket is on to air the bed, I‘ve only just closed the windows, open to clear the condensation from cooking supper. Which I thought might also be off the menu when the gas wouldn’t light. I seemed for a few crucial moments to be facing a meal of old Bombay mix and cold baked beans.

Not Cat has had a good look out of the windows and signaled his desire to explore outside, but is now asleep in the cat bed beside me. I’ve brought lots of toys to entertain him, and I’m hoping he’s not going to be too active tonight.

As usual I had overestimated the fridge’s capacity, so I’ve got some lagers chilling outside on the gunwhale. I think, now I’ve had dinner, it’s time to pop one open. I’d hate them to go to waste.

June at the marina

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Another gloriously beautiful day afloat.
Last night, I came out of the shower and bumped into Len, a man with a deceptively sombre face. He decided it was time to give me some hints and tips, and despite the increasingly noisy protests from my stomach, which thought my throat must have been cut, he gave me a guided tour of his boat, with a fine array of life-jackets for his grandchildren, including one for the baby, due any day now.
By the time we parted company, some two hours later, I had been taken firmly under his wing, and realised what a lovely man he is.
He should be around later. He dropped by last night to top up the fuel and to make sure everything was shipshape and Bristol fashion for an excursion today with some of his family.
This is a man, who has suffered a series of minor strokes, which obviously jolted his view of himself; is on blood-thinning medication and struggles to get health insurance for the cruises he and his wife (a lucky woman) enjoy.
Some of the photos here are of his boat. Its name is the Greek for Kingfisher.

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