Chloe was already
waiting for me at H.N.A. as Barry [Trimmer, of the two Barrys] pulled up
outside the boathouse. She hadn't met Barry before but had heard of him
through the articles I had previously written. The plan was for Chloe and
myself to bring Spirit back from Uxbridge where she had had a new galley
fitted by Steve Marriage along with a new stove and fridge.
Barry had been
invited by me a couple of weeks before to make the return journey if he was
free. Keen as ever, he had accepted. A crew of three is the ideal size as
locks can be swiftly made ready by two 'windlass operatives' whilst the
third can concentrate on steering into the locks. I had barely had time to
introduce Chloe to Barry when Harold arrived to ferry us down to Uxbridge
just opposite 'The General Elliot' pub. Steve met us there and showed
us all, especially Harold, the improvements that had been made and
the new fittings put in place.
With Harold bidding us
farewell and good wishes for Christmas passing back and forth amongst the
four of us, it was time to cast off. Bearing in mind when Chloe and I had
brought Spirit down to Uxbridge on a bitterly cold day some two weeks
before, and Harold, Chloe and I nearly getting drowned, before being frozen last
week when we brought Star and Pisces back from Bull's Bridge---it was no
surprise that we had wrapped up well against the elements. Also a couple of
flasks of coffee were most importantly accompanying us! Chloe made the
observation that Sod's Law dictated it wasn't as cold--but one can always
take stuff off--if it's not there in the first place, it's no good
moaning about it!
Understandably, the cut
was abandoned to all but the foolhardy [and us!] and the water was like a
mirror as we made our way north. The lack of boats led to an astonishing
clarity that enabled us to see the bottom for long stretches at a time.
Denham Deep was no
exception and, but for the leaves floating and sinking within the lock's
confines--we'd have been able to see Chloe's thermos flask cup sink to the
bottom as she neatly nudged it into the water from Spirit's stern rail with
her elbow. Barry was on paddle duty at the head of the lock and I was on
gate duty at the tail. I got a splendid view of the cup as it Jacque
Cousteau'd its way to the bottom.
Unfortunately, the
water was already swirling in before I could call out to Barry to suspend
operations momentarily. It was a lost cause [andcup]though. Never mind, we
could always cheer ourselves up in Fran's Tea Rooms. Arrghh! Not open on
Mondays! Right, we'll press on and have a drink at 'The Coy Carp' later .
Only now, Dastardly Denham Deep played its last card. Attempting to move off
I got a trembling sensation through the tiller, followed by a series of
heavy knocks, and more trembling. Something round the prop--with the weed
hatch off I couldn't see anything untoward but probed with 'Jack The Ripper'
a cunning device that contained an upwards-facing blade on its shaft but
drew a blank. The boat hook though caught hold of a substantial length of
black rope with an industrial-strength pipe fender attached. That will come
in handy on my boat where I'm one short. Triumphantly, the weed
hatch re-assembled, Spirit nosed her way towards Widewater.
Once through there,
Chloe elected to walk to Black Jack's lock as she was feeling like some
exercise. I noticed soon afterwards that she'd picked up a male companion on
the towpath, but I hadn't seen where he'd come from. It was only at Black
Jack's I realised it was Harold who'd finished his tasks at H.N.A and had
decided to stretch his legs in a southerly direction and meet us
before going home. The peacocks that live at Black Jack's were getting in on
the act too. The cock bird with his magnificent tail was perched on the
cottage gate, keeping an eye on two of his wives who'd flown across to the
towpath and were scratching hopefully about in the dirt, looking for
something to eat. Chloe and I both wondered if they could in fact fly or if
they'd walked across the lock gates to reach the towpath. The question was
answered in no uncertain fashion as the peacock, turned and flew back into
the cottage garden at my approach, followed swiftly by the peahens, not
happy to share the big, wide world with four strangers!
A quarter of an
hour later saw us tied up safely at Coppermill and the bank was again
repopulated with all three boats for the first time in a few weeks. It only
remained for a drink to be partaken at 'The Coy Carp' as the temperature took a
bit of a dive!
