We know our limits!

And yesterday we had a stark reminder of them.

While we waited for Tim to arrive on Sunday evening, we played our second bout of this game which we learned from Joy and Grahame back in Waikanae.

Can you see the scorecards clearly? I have won both games - am not sure, given I already have best of three, whether I should ever play again ...

David's birthday presents from Tim, Dana and the boys went up on the bulkheads in the dinette on Saturday, courtesy of Mick who modified a few of the stick on hooks we had.

Photos from their recent holiday in Snowdonia

Tim was on his way down to Devizes for work - we were a stopover - not sure how far off the direct route but it did save him from having to be up and on his way by 4.30am. It was lovely to see him and he managed to consume Vogel toast and peanut butter on arrival, have a good sleep and then consume poached eggs on Vogel toast before he left at about 7am.

So we were up bright and early yesterday, and after seeing Tim away, we decided to head away ourselves. Considering our first requirement was to turn around and head back through Braunston from our mooring next to Dale, we thought it best to do so early before the three-way intersection hotted up for the day!

So I steered over to the towpath side and dropped David so he could be my look-out from the Rugby direction, then I steered through the first bridge. Then stopped and reversed back through the second bridge, so I was facing the right way. A boat called Imagine was moored with its stern right by the sign that said No Mooring, i.e. right next to the bridge approach. If only the owners could use their boat name's instruction, and imagine how awkward their inconsiderate mooring makes things for others ...

Anyway, we made the turn successfully, and no boats or humans or ducks or ducklings were harmed. As we came back past Dale's workshop, we saw his steel delivery was just taking place, and we tooted as discreetly as you can with a Mack truck horn, and gave him a wave of thanks and goodbye.

He is a sterling chap, a great metal basher  (as he describes himself) and someone worth finding when you need metal work done on your boat - for big jobs or small jobs he is a star. He is thoughtful, kind, and a good worker. And if you need jobs done that require the boat to be accessible, he seems happy to have you tie up alongside him for the duration.

His details, in case you need him are:

Dale Willoughby
Direct Marine Components
Braunston
07759257964

He is next door but one to Midland Chandlers, and next door to the Boat pub.

It's probably best to text him, as if he's bashing metal he won't hear the phone.

So off we went hoping that we would pick up a locking up buddy on the way through Braunston, but it was surprisingly empty for a Monday morning, and the only person on the move was turning at the marina entrance.

Just after we left the bottom Braunston lock

Looking back - that pesky right hand gate won't stay closed!

So David was on his own doing four sets of paddles and two gates each time until we got to the last lock. So that I don't career all over the lock coming up, I now give David a rope as I come in and have it looped over the nearest bollard. I wish I didn't need to - as I feel so dim not being able to stay in one place, but it makes the ascent (I prefer ascension given I am such an angel ...) so much easier.

Then it was back through the tunnel and a discussion when we stopped for a cuppa about whether we should stay again near Norton Junction, or whether we should carry on down the Buckby flight.

I think we saw this family as we approached Norton Junction. There was no food forthcoming from Waka Huia, I'm afraid.

We determined we would keep going, even though we had been moving for about 3 hours. In part that was because we thought we'd like to be on fresh territory, given we've done the Braunston - Debdale a few times over the last couple of years, and it felt like we hadn't really started on our cruise. Not true, we know, but that was the thinking ...

So on we went. At the first lock on the Buckby flight there were 3 volunteer lockies, one of whom told me of his favourite place of his trip to NZ. The Church of the Good Shepherd at Lake Tekapo. (I blogged about it when we were in the South Island, I think.)

His reasoning for it being his favourite place was that when you go in the church (it's very tiny) the window behind the altar is clear and 'you can see god's creation - Lake Tekapo'. AAARRRGGGHHH!!! I said 'Glacial activity actually.'

Don't get me wrong, the lake is beautiful, but give me strength!

That sort of set me on edge, and much as I may (or may not) respect his faith, I do wish he wouldn't assume that it is shared. Although, to be fair, I am not backward about declaring my atheism in such situations - didn't get the chance as I was heading out the lock by the time he delivered that statement.

 There were no more volunteer lockies (although one had gone down the flight a bit further but was coming back for his lunch); and there were several boats we crossed over with, which was pleasant, although most of them were coming around bends as we were already out - I called to David and he re-opened the gates he'd just closed. He is such a kind hero.

However, for that whole flight, the canal is bounded by the M1, the A5 (dual carriageway) and the railway - it is NOISY. So  NOISY that it severely impacts my sense of well-being and equilibrium. To the extent that I get really grumpy*. Not what you'd expect of me, I know.

We hauled to a stop after Whilton Marina where there was a mis-communication (2 people) and grumpiness (1 person*), so David could go back to the chandlery and purchase a second middle rope. Good sense prevailed while he was away and I heated some soup and buttered some bread and restored my obviously severely depleted blood sugar. On his return, David very sensibly did not speak, just came and one-armed hugged me as I sat at the dinette. He's not stupid. 😏😙

He served himself some soup and buttered his own bread (see? not stupid) and we set off again, looking for somewhere to moor that was away from the BLOODY NOISE.

We found a sunny, pretty quiet spot just past Bridge 22, where we were opposite a little wharf with three permanent moorers. And that was us for the day. 

View from the stern. Very peaceful, after the cacophony of the previous 3 miles (5kms).

View forward. Away from the bend, away from the bridge, not visible in this photo, but sunny.

We realised we had exceeded our boating limit, and agreed no more days of longer than 4 hours - I think we would be fine if the NOISE didn't assail us (mainly me, it drives me nuts).

While David was napping (see below), I had a very healthy dinner ...

David put up the washing line and hung out Tim's now clean sheet, and then slept for a couple of hours.

I read and blobbed and What's Apped with Lesley who was experiencing the joys of A&E where there were more people than chairs and the staff were severely over-worked. The waits were apparently so long that people had started talking to each other (in England, for heaven sake). She was too scared to leave her seat to forage for food, in case her seat was snapped up! I did suggest that she order a pizza delivery for the assembled multitudes but she reckoned a tenner wouldn't go far. A call for contributions, I thought ... But she was saved that kind of NZ-type display, by a good friend who brought in some dinner for her.

It was a good thing I had Lesley's trials to distract me as I was going through the locks - I was losing the will to live on the journey. What she was going through put my grumping to shame.

So a good night's sleep, a lie in and a late start today. And we only came as far as Weedon. We had a couple of goes at mooring up but abandoned them - one was a CRT mooring on the offside and looked nice but it had

• sloped concrete, 
•  concrete bollards that the rope doesn't slide on, and 
• the wrong feeling being on the offside.

The other attempt was near Stowe Hill Bridge - right next to a sewage pond which I only saw and smelled when I was adjusting the fender my end. So that was a no, and on we came.

We are now moored between Stowe Hill Bridge and Flore Lane Bridge across from a lovely big house and in the sunshine.

Now, isn't that a nice view from the galley?

Washing is hung out, I've made the marinade for the thai beef salad (but no fish sauce on board, but no worries) and the beef is sliced and soaking. David has spent a couple of hours re-installing Memory Map on my phone (I ditched it when I needed more space last year, along with Bus Checker and a couple of other apps).

So now it's only a couple of hours to dinner, which on a fasting day is usually about 6pm. I am sure I can entertain myself without too much hassle until then. More What'sApping with Lesley and reading my kindle will meet that need.