“Weather permitting,” said the email, “the boats will go back in the water 28th March”. Fortunately I am not working that day, neither is Older Nephew, so we should be water borne again – weather permitting. But getting the date meant checking Stuart is free to apply the anti fouling in advance of the relaunch (should I take champagne?) and in advance of the antifouling the boat needs to be cleaned from stem to stern. Not a job I fancied doing alone. Fortunately Older Nephew was again free and having looked at the forecast we agreed on Thursday. Except the forecast changed to heavy snow. Nooooo. Yesterday’s forecast was for strong winds, showers and sunshine. I bought my train ticket and left London in a heavy downpour.
You’d have to be living in the Big Brother House not to know of the widespread, heartbreaking flooding that has afflicted much of middle England. Any climate deniers reading this, get a grip. We need to act and act fast. This is the End if we don’t. But not having been out of London in the last few weeks I was unaware just how close to the capital the fields were flooded. From the elevated safety of the railway line I looked at submerged field upon field, at broken bridges, and bizarrely a rabbit sitting looking relaxed on what was now an island. Had it been forced above ground from a flooded burrow? Human beings can do amazing things, but I am fast coming to the conclusion the planet would have been better off without us. As an aside, can anyone here understand why Greta Thunberg attracts such anger from (mainly) white middle aged men, often with money? Do they think we can save the planet by ignoring the scale of the disaster we have created? Ostriches look intellectually superior in comparison.
It was dry when Older Nephew and I were reunited at Cambridge. Windy, but dry. After a brief detour to his house to collect a ladder, we headed for the marina. The sun shone. The single track road was more undulating than ever. I wondered if I was wearing too many layers. When I got out of the car and the wind sliced through my clothing I knew I wasn’t. Sections of the fencing at the marina were missing. The grass was blown into horizontal postures.
The field next door was soggy.
I pulled on my waterproof trousers and rubber gloves, filled buckets of water to which we added the environmentally friendly boat cleaner, and we set to work. Continue reading