Messing
about on narrow boats seems such a leisurely pursuit, chugging along
at walking pace, watching the scenery unfold and drinking it all in.
Occasionally there is work to be done navigating locks to take account
of changes in level. By and large the odd set of locks here and there
takes care of it but sometimes the drop/rise in level requires extra
locks and extra effort. Watford in Northamptonshire has a set of seven
locks in close proximity to one another. There is a sign by the first
lock informing boaters that they and their boat are about to climb about
60 feet. As they leave the second lock................. |
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they are greeted
by this. |
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They
will have time to ponder the feat of engineering completed in 1814, why
they didn't go to the Costa del Sol for their holiday like everyone else,
whether the pain starting in their chest is the result of winching lock
after lock or whether it is the onset of something more serious and if
it is how the hell will they get an ambulance along the canal. |
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A
potentially more serious problem is posed by deciding who is in charge.
In general the men hold the rank of captain and it is the women who
get off the boat to operate the locks. When confronted by so many locks
at once the captain is torn between chivalry and egomania. Chivalry
usually wins tempered by the practicality of realising that sending
ones' significant other to operate those locks will probably result
in a dead cook. |
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Even
though he has technically left the bridge the captain retains command
of the vessel and signals the cook when he wants her to start the climb. |
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The
boat is 60ft long so I cannot begin to imagine why the cook leans forward
like that to place her eyeballs 1ft closer to the front of the boat.
Maybe it is a well honed technique to slot the boat seamlessly into
the lock. |
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Or
maybe it isn't. My thoughts turn to the people living in the house top
left. The dull thud, the ripples in a cup of tea :-) The last thing the
boat needs is all ahead full. You will note the churning water at the
back of the boat. The helpless captain is torn between the sadness of
potentially losing his cash deposit and the joy of not having to go down
with the boat. |
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With
the hand of panic off the throttle the boat finally enters safe harbour
and the captain takes a photograph. Just the standard shot for the album.
Not the prize winner he wanted to take, of his wife trying to plough
the adjacent field with a 60ft narrow boat, because he is too much of
a gentleman and because he wants to live. |
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Nothing
can go wrong now. It is just a matter of opening and closing gates and
at the top the captain can reclaim the helm and he and his crew revert
to chugging along soaking up the scenery. |