Moored in splendid isolation – what do other folk know that I don’t? #narrowboat #boating #England

Well they’ve been on about it for days now, some great depression motoring in from the Atlantic. The latest “oh my good gods” from Her Majesty’s Meteorological Office suggests winds of 60-70mph, although their main forecast page for the nearest observation station here is more conservative at just 50mph. It’s an “amber” warning, apparently.

So I’ve found some moorings where we are on mooring rings, where the trees nearby would have to fall up an embankment to get to us, and we’re away from buildings, flying roof tiles for the avoidance of &etc. I’ve put out no fewer than four ropes andย four fenders. The roof has been checked (there’s little up there anyway that is “loose”). There are extra bungee cords on the canvas covers. Everything on the well deck has been jammed in solidly. The front cover is rolled up and open, to present the least resistance possible to the wind, there’s no way to tie that on more securely than it already is.

I’ve been out to my solar panels (all bolted down flat, but one never knows, does one?) and told them all that I love them, just in case.

One thing worries me slightly.

The Cardinal and I are – currently – moored up here in splendid isolation…

Pure co-inky-dinks, or does everyone else know something that I don’t?

Just because I am paranoid it doesn’t mean that they aren’t still out to get me.

There was a most magnificent moon-set this morning. No photographs, there was insufficient light for the pocket rocket to capture the view for me. The sunrise though was distinctly more muted than yesterday’s.


Did, though, manage – just – to capture a robin while I was imbibing my morning caffeine. Extreme zoom, through glass, while sitting at my desk. Robin camouflage.

Notable Benny – the tree only looks “close” because of the effect of the zoom.


How brave and stoic do you have to be to be built like a robin and yet to sally forth every day to do battle with survival? Amazing little critters.

The winds here, when they come, ought to be mostly to our stern, with some swings trying to blow us off the towpath, others on. There’s rain rain and more rain forecast to go with these breezes. Yonder towpaths will be the consistency of rice pudding again, I suppose.

There’s a large pot of mushroom curry on the stove. I did that. I mean, it’s not a case of Spontaneous Mushroom Curry or anything, nothing too paranormal.* That’ll heat up nicely for, probably, the next three days, leaving just some (evil, unhealthy, but edible-whereas-brown-rice-is-not-edible) white rice to cook.

*Well, Officer, I was just sitting there when this enormous pot of curry appeared on the stove. It made a sort of “badoingg” sound, and then it began stirring itself with a wooden spatula. Against whom ought I to press charges? Will there be any compensation? Yes, it was delicious, Officer, thank you.

If the stove flue can manage to stay on (again, no way of making it more secure than it is) and Mr Stove stays lit and happy then I will be forted up here with warm toes, curry to nosh and a pile of books to read. That ought to help to take my mind off the sound of the wind trying to pull my boat apart.

If itย doesn’t then I’ll apply liberal amounts of cocoa spruced up with (English) whisky (thanks, Sis!).

Again, it’s a lousy, rotten life, but someone’s got to live it.

Justin Case I can’t get out and about with Mr Camera I have taken a “during the storm” photo in advance.


I wonder where robins and other small birds go when it blows like this? Any bloody where the wind takes them, I suppose.

Odds being taken on the name of the first boat to “cruise” past in a sixty mph wind.

Thereย will be several, since England closed all of its asylums years ago.

Chin-chin, chaps.


Ian H., and Cardinal W.

p.s., here’s another nice tree. The trunk looks as though it has lots of stories to tell.


p.p.s.,ย yes, a boat has just cruised past. That didn’t take long, did it? Perhaps they have some medical emergency to tend to, you know, such as an in-growing brain gland, or a conjoined rectum. We mustn’t judge. Some folk are just more …adventurous than I. ๐Ÿ˜‰


Reggie, I didn’t get where I am today by being adventurous.

Actually, thinking about it – I chuffing wellย did.

I’ve been both the statueย and at other times the pigeon.


  1. I missed this one some how. Was reading it and thinking that very question, where do Robins (all birds) go in this sort of weather? They have such tiny feet to be able to cling to branches in these kind of winds; I had some nest inside my old shed once, so I reckon they must find shelter somewhere, eh?

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    1. I notice that they’re still not out and about today – probably holed up somewhere, starving. The swans have paddled past though, so they think that Ciara is a spent force. Even got some sunshine here at the moment… it has to be set-up, surely?


  2. Just checked my handy-dandy little world-clock thingamajig and it tells me it’s 2.22 am Monday morning there … hopefully you are still afloat and snug. ๐Ÿ™‚

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    1. Still here, the planet is still safely tied to my boat. ๐Ÿ™‚ Winds still blowing but looking a lot brighter so far this morning… now they tell us that ice and snow are next in line to have a go…

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  3. I just rang my son who is living on a boat in Brighton Marina where things like 6-foot waves are predicted. (Outside the sea wall, not in the Marina, I hasten to add.) He says it’s not too bad there. One boat, moored behind him, broke a line, but otherwise nothing disastrous.
    Here, a bit further inland, we’re having quite strong winds.
    Good luck, Ian. It’s supposed to continue for a couple of days, at least, but slowly moderating.
    I wonder about people who think they are immune to disasters. I hope the boat that passed you has found safe harbour.

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    1. Two boats came past in total, another one after the one shown here! The moorings up ahead – as far as I can remember – all have trees or power-lines or some such nearby. Oh well, I’m sure that they’re fine – the Devil looks after his own. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      Glad to hear that the six-foot waves are outside your son’s marina – they would be incredibly dangerous. Just watched a video of an RNLI lifeboat on the south coast being launched to rescue a surfer – amazing people, and amazing boats; stupid surfer.

      The wind has picked up again with evening time, hopefully it won’t be as gusty as it was. Stay safe and happy. ๐Ÿ™‚


    1. The (mini-)waves are actually much less than I’ve seen before on the canals, even thought the wind is much stronger. I think that’s probably because the wind is massive gust – pause – massive gust, and not affecting the water the way a more constant wind would. It’s… interesting. ๐Ÿ˜‰


        1. Well that was cruel – we just had a few moments of daylight with some almost-sunshine… and now it’s back to darker than a politician’s heart again. Must have been a tiny gap in the clouds, somewhere. So many hopes raised, only to be dashed. ๐Ÿ˜‰

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  4. Planning, Preparation and Mushroom Curry ARE the keys to survival. I hope you shall have a thoroughly enjoyable storm, rather than disastrous one. Keep you feet dry.

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    1. Well I’m well and truly in it now – daylight is almost here again, so it ought not to be long before the first “very determined” narrowboater “cruises” (bangs and slides) past! Yesterday’s curry will be perfect for today, methinks! Mr Stove is keeping the boat nice and toasty.

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    1. And you yourself, sir, it looks as though this one is to be served up to the whole island!

      Heads down, and don’t forget to clear a space in the garden for the television aerial to land in.


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