Julia and Pete's boat with Lock House beyond
Branston Water
And to watch some boats go through Tatenhill Lock, right outside Lock House's front door.
Waiting for the lock to fill
Navel contemplation over, it's back to work
And in she comes
The lock was quite busy as the school holidays end this week and lots of boats were heading home, so whilst Lawrence slept I took the opportunity to chat to boaters, especially those coming up through the locks, soaking up and trying to remember a wealth of info on places to moor, good eateries, good locks, bad locks, shallows to be avoided etc.
It was while talking to a very chatty, informative couple, going up through the lock that I witnessed my first episode of 'lock rage' for this year. As the couple were about to exit the lock a boat coming down stream came through the narrow opening into the little pound just above the lock where Pete's boat is moored. The skipper had misjudged his timing and had to hold back and the breeze swung him sideways across the pound. The heretofore pleasant woman I had been talking to turned into a term agent (hope that's the word I'm looking for and not a bird) and harangued the wife of the sideways boat for not waiting upstream of the little pound. At this point I decided my presence was unnecessary and tried to to slink off without appearing to do so. As I was slinking the shit really hit the fan when the couple exiting the lock slowed down so they could also give the skipper of the offending boat and earful which caused him to sideswipe them, whereupon the earful turned into a shrill torrent.
Very much feeling I wish I wasn't here, I had to walk back up past the lock to get to the front door. By now the abused couple were in the lock as I feebly pretended I hadn't witnessed their embarrassment and fervently hoping that Lawrence and I don't get yelled at like that.
Then as we were getting ready to go out to dinner I heard the rattle of the locked being worked then a raised male voice, so of course I looked out the window to see a man working the lock berating his, I presume, wife who was steering the boat. He kept up the berating as the boat went down through the lock and continued as his wife pulled in to pick him up - I don't know why she bothered. Both incidents left me wondering if we should be doing this trip - will we be ratty and yelling at each other and other people at the end of our holiday?
But to end the day on a positive 'canal' note, as we walked into the pub where we were having dinner we were greeted by a couple saying 'hello again' to me. It was the couple who had been on the receiving end of the tongue lashing earlier in the afternoon. The bloke said I had an unforgettable face (unfortunately I don't think he meant in a Sophia Loren type of way). They we really friendly and interested in where we were going and were full of useful advice and offered to let us moor up on their mooring in Nottingham and use their tap. It doesn't sound like much but in canal world that is a very kind offer, especially as their mooring is right in front of their house.
Suddenly half way through dinner we both sagged and staggered back the 1/2 mile or so (it felt like 10 miles of wading through knee deep mud) and we were in bed with lights out at 8.30pm
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