Autumn is most definitely upon us. Last night was foggy and chilled (while I was toasty under my 99 TOG quilt). One of the neighbours was up too, as you can see from the glow from their bow doors over the water.
A strollette to clear away the cobwebs was interrupted by a very heavy train, with two tractor units labouring to pull it along, one fore, one aft. When they’re not ferrying passengers about the lines are amazingly busy moving nuclear waste and, in this case, tanks of something that must be more dense than first sight would suggest. The puzzle is that both the nuclear waste trains and this tanker strain equally whether up or down the line – whatever it is, it’s moved in both directions.
The sun did its best though at burning away the damp air.
So much so that by the time I returned from my perambulations, some colour was beginning to return to the natural world. Autumnal colours…
Even the canal was beginning to wake up.
Albeit with the walking (brain-)dead.
Heading back to the marina the sun was really beginning to win the battle.
It doesn’t get much more flat calm than this.
The slave… er, the Bro then turned up, and work commenced on finishing off the electrics. All of that hidden re-wiring with new feeds to each individual light, vent and switch are now paying dividends as we work from bow to stern, chucking wiring into consuit laying in the cable tray, and connecting up the power. All twisted wires connections and duct tape gone, just properly crimped connections – each labelled individually – remain.
Separate feeds to each area, with separate circuit-breakers.
What remains on this part of the task is now the final section down by the DC panel and Mains/Solar cupboard.
The heart of the machine, where I can step out of bed and immediately crank up the sonic oscillatrix twelve more points with nought but a languid digit, where I can plug the laptop into a couple of USB sockets and interrogate separate solar and battery systems for domestic power and engine power. Ticketty boing boing boing or what? The glass suction lifter thing has arrived, so the clear polycarbonate panel over the heavy stuff (which we want on display, since it looks so good) is now in place. All of my little flashing status LEDs remain visible. Ventilation fans to go in next so that the whole thing keeps its cool, whatever.
As we work so things installed much earlier begin to come alive. For example, the forward navigation lights and tunnel light are now powered and hooked up to their switches…
‘Nature and nature’s laws lay hid in night;
God said “Let Newton be” and all was light.’
Today, we let quite a lot of Newton be all by ourselves, no deity involved.
Oh yes, and somewhere along the way, it seems to have got dark again… in spite of Mr Newton’s best efforts.
Mind you, it’s not difficult to tell which narrowboat here has a big new tunnel light…
I am now thinking about returning to my pit. Sustenance, in the form of a mongrel colcannon, has been devoured, the washing up done and the blinds pulled and doors locked on the outside world. The Cardinal has been given a rare treat – a feed for his batteries from the onshore mains – but soon I’ll scoot down to the blunt end and take him offline. There’s full sunshine predicted for tomorrow, so the solar panels can take the load.
More jobs to be finished tomorrow. Mayhap hooking up the horn, decklights, anchor light and rear navigation light, mayhap not yet. We’re getting there.
I’ve said it to him in person often enough, but I need to say it publicly too – an enormous thank you to the Bro, for being so gobsmackingly generous with his time and expertise. Both the Cardinal and I appreciate it immensely. Thank you.
Right, time today methinks to arise from my gluteus, flick those switches to “off” and crawl into my pit.
Here endeth the Admiral’s log for today.