We have moved on a tad. Just a couple of miles and four locks. It was supposed to have been a couple of miles+ and six locks, but there is, it transpires, nowhere to moor where I had planned to moor, so I stopped short.
The ropes were white but just frozen stiff rather than frozen solid, and I took this as an encouraging sign. A signe d’encouragemente, as they say. Well, no sooner had we set off than we had to do a little bit of light ice-breaking, there being a thin slushy skim of ice over the water. Tis fortunate that the Cardinal is going to have his hull re-blacked early this year, as early as I can arrange it.
Notable Benny: no other boats were harmed during this process, and it is not yet the season of the polarbeest migration, so no wildlife got miffed other than a few disgruntled ducks who got poked with ice where ducks do not like to be poked with ice.
It was indeed a pleasant, if somewhat chilly cruise, and there was not a soul chasing me at the locks, so I could absolutely take all of the time that I wanted. Locking is so much more pleasant when there’s no-one breathing up your stern tubes, passively-aggressively “assisting” whether you’ve said ‘yes please’ or ‘thank you, but no, thank you’.
We are back in the wild Cheshire countryside again. How much more pleasant is this than the graffiti-laden unspoken threatz of the town infrastructure?
Still, the constant attack on the countryside cannot be entirely ignored. When will you humans stop breeding indescriminately? This constant “new build” “green-field” expansion is going to cover the planet afore long, and then we’ll all be “urban”.
This, in the opposite direction to the photo above…
It’s not clever, it’s not pretty, just stop it!
There are plenty of humans, until you can leave here and grow like mould on other planets we don’t need more. Carry on breeding as you are and the whole planet will end up as one big Borg-esque connurbation.
End of rant! [For the moment.]
We had an unexpectedly early visitation from the brilliant folk on Halsall, the Fuel Boat. Coal, diesel, chemical for the gazunder and a new rope to replace the one that I had to cut (when I forgot to allow for/underestimated the rise in a lock pound and couldn’t get the Cardinal free in a hurry any other way).
So, while cruising my plans unexpectedly changed (from six locks to four, because there be no suitable moorings where I wanted – or anywhere nearby) some dippy Snodgrass also changed the weather forecast while I was under way. From a few days of “quite alright really, for the season” the forecast morphed into “snow, sleet, rain and extra freeze, with more breeze than hitherto advertised”.
The Cardinal and I are here for a day or so then.
The “new” weather did indeed materialise, although t’were more rain than snow if truth be told.
Here’s some expertly-shot and edited video, with a suitably aocalyptic and serious soundtrack… (I believe that the music is by “Tongue in Cheek”, a popular beat combo working in acoustic irony)…
I’m not planning on planning for tomorrow. I’ll just see what weather arrives instead. Unless there are hidden moorings our next hop is likely to be something on the order of ten locks and several miles now (since our shortfall in this previous move), and that will require me to sit down for fifteen, if not twenty minutes afterwards.
Still, ce sera sera and other idiotic sayings.
These aren’t bad moorings, considering. Amusingly, it’s taking me some time to get used to rural pitch-black nights again after so much urban horridity of late. There’s a motorway nearby giving off a constant drone, but the dead-of-night sounds are mostly animal and, hopefully, natural. Wolves and suchlike.
I hope that you’re all keeping warm, and keeping on keeping on.
I am going to keep right on and get my chops around some pasta this evening. Good, chunky, heavy winter food…
Chin-chin for the moment.
Ian H and Cardinal W.