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Oars, bores & pillocks with poles

 

Now you’ll have to trust me on this, I’m just doing what I see as a civic duty, so you don’t have to endure any undue hardship or suffering.  So, with this in mind, if you never done this before; don’t bother.  I did it with a group of friends, and all because some bright spark said, “I’ve hired a boat, fancy a week on the river Thames?”

Well,  the four of us were all in our early 20’s, and it felt like a brill idea at the time, so one day during the height of the English summer of 1977, we drove to Reading, Berkshire to bond with our floating caravan.

What I found a tad strange was the boat’s owner wasn’t concerned that none of us had ever driven a boat before!  So rather than a strict rundown of ‘what does what and why’, and quotes like, “Never do this, while holding these,” our meeting with ‘Goat’s Breath Mcginty went like this.  Cash, keys, and, “See you in a week!”  Presuming any safety instructions would be on board; we spliced the mizzen mast, had rub down with the cabin boy and headed off into the great unknown.

Oh yeah, this was definitely the life but unfortunately, being young and stupid, we had forgotten one basic fact, anything ahead of us would be new territory and we discovered the disadvantages of this when we came up against our first barrier.  Honestly, it would have been quicker to torch the boat, wait for the insurance claim to come through and ask the company to deliver the new one the other side of the lock!  

In the brochure herds of locals streamed out of the riverside pubs to aid the virgin lock-openers – not on our watch!  Forty-five minutes later we were still fighting with a lock wheel that seemed to have been welded shut.  Did the crews of the ‘boat jam’ behind us rally round and help us in our hour of need?  Did they bollocks!  So that’s where we left them as we sallied forth and carried on our travels up old father Thames.  

We had been sailing for most of the afternoon, but it was starting to get dark, and it was at this point we realised that we were the only ones on the river.  This conclusion led us to believe that we would find a ‘parking space’ with relative ease.  It was a stupid assumption!  The reason that we were the only vessel moving at this time was that all the smart-arses had moored up at 4 o’clock.  Did our boat owner mention this?  He did not, just like he failed to tell us there weren’t any lights on the bloody boat!  Half past seven we parked up – in the pitch dark!

However, the evening brought about a sense of normality to our day, after we discovered our first pub.  We had a great time; the girls tried everything on the top shelf, while my mate and I sampled every pump that had ‘local ale’ on it.  Lesson one: never get rat-arsed then try and find a boat, after nine pints they all look the same, even though they were different lengths!      

On the morning of day three there was this smell, a smell that promoted the thought that it should be dealt with sooner rather than later.  Well, by the end of the day, and with countless locks behind us, we still had ‘the smell’, but it was now accompanied by small plumes of black smoke!  Lesson two: a boat engine needs an oil top-up every three days!  Did our boat owner…, oh what’s the bloody point!      

At no stage did anyone say, “Ooh you don’t wanna go up there, your boat’s to big.”  So we turned right, just to see what was up ‘there’ – big mistake!  We found a ‘flock’ of smaller wind and oar powered vessels, and by the looks on the faces of the horrified crews, we had turned into up an un-signposted creek minus our paddles!  Still, after a 28 point turn, three collisions and one near fatality, we were back on course.  

Day four:  we were all suffering from ‘lockytitus’, and the first signs of this disease can be seen noted in the Captain’s log: “Oh no, not another bloody lock – had to eat Johnson – crew down with scurvy.  Overall, this virulent condition is contracted by the toxic pong of the chemical toilet, a poor diet, and travelling at a maximum and mind numbing speed of 8mph for five hours a day, with the sun in your eyes!     

What else could go wrong?  We had mastered everything that the river could throw at us.  Yeaaaaaaah – not strictly true!  Lesson three: if you’re stationary, you’re either securely moored, you’ve run out of fuel or you’ve run aground.  As we had become accustomed to the gently rocking motion of a boat that was tied up for the night, and knowing we had a full tank, this could only mean we had hit a sand bank!  Fortunately for us a large passing tourist boat washed us of in its wake.

Believing we had beaten the trails of river travel now, we entered day six.  It was hot, really hot, at least 90 in the shade and my girlfriend was at the helm.  My mate and his partner were snoozing up on deck, while I was flaked out on my bunk when I heard this scraping noise initially, and shortly after this was followed by a repetitive creaking and straining sound. 

I opened my eyes to see part of another boat entering my window, which turned out to be attached to a very expensive yacht!  After the female screaming and cries of, shit, shit, shit had stopped, it came to light that my ladylove had steered her way into a private mariner!  All we had to do now was escape without being sued for a new aluminium mast, park up at our boatyard with the damaged window facing away from the jetty, and we home and dry – never again!

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