It’s been a hectic few weeks.
From Wansford Station we carried on down the beautiful River
Nene to Peterborough and Ferry Meadows Country Park. We were now getting well
into our old stomping ground; for several years in our former life we both
worked in Peterborough so we’ve got a lot of history in this part of the
country. The car club that we used to be part of -2cvGB - used to hold its
annual “Registrars Day” Show and Shine weekend in Ferry Meadows
and when we had
our little Otter dinghy we came here on a couple of occasions to sail it.
(“Sail” was a bit of an exaggeration one weekend when we were becalmed for
hours and had to paddle back to shore, but we had a fly-past by a Lancaster
which more than made up for it.)
There are two main lakes in the park; one is
for sailing, and the other is linked to the river by a short channel and has
floating pontoons outside the visitor centre.
There can’t be that many people
who’ve steered boats across both of them, but we have!
As you would imagine we know quite a few people around here.
Mandy was performing with her ukulele band in the Hand in Heart in the
afternoon which, co-incidentally, had a beer festival going on.
So that was the
rest of the day sorted.
As the next day was George’s first birthday we drove to Kim
and Luke’s to see them all. We went out for lunch and then back to their house
for present un-wrapping in the afternoon.
Ever since we’d decided that repairing our old squirrel was beyond
our capabilities Luke had asked for first dibs on it and we’d had it in the
boot since Wansford when the car was conveniently close. A Birthday Boy visit
provided the perfect opportunity to get it delivered and stowed in their back
porch. Hopefully they’ll be able to fix it up and install it in their
In the evening we
went into the city to join Pig Dyke Molly - Ann-Marie’s old morris dancing side
– who were having a practice night in another pub. When we got back the park
was dark and deserted and we had one of the calmest nights ever…. Until the
dawn chorus of ducks, geese, terns, pigeons and goodness knows what else kicked
off at some ungodly hour. We got up and had a walk round the lake and through
....before Diane turned up and we set off for the embankment. Luckily
the wind was in our favour, and luckily we’d moored on the lee side of the
jetty, so casting off was simply a matter of untying the front rope and quickly
jumping on board. In a matter of seconds we were at right angles to the jetty and
pointing towards the channel entrance, whereupon we untied the stern and went
full steam ahead across the lake.
It’s nice when a plan comes together.
Peterborough Embankment was our last mooring on the Nene, in
fact without going past the turn-off for Stanground and carrying on towards the
tidal lock at Dog-in-a-Doublet, there is nowhere else to moor. It’s very regal,
with weeping willows and tiered steps down to the river. There’s also a very
useful services block and a water point (which was spraying water all over the
place until Dave fixed it with a couple of jubilee clips.) There’s an Asda
within walking distance and if that's not enough then there’s the whole of Peterborough
city centre to go at.
It just so happened that Anne was working in Pinchbeck that
day, and it just so happened that Slapdash (another of Ann-Marie’s old dance
sides) were practicing in Pinchbeck that evening, and it just so happened that
Anne was at her office in Peterborough the following morning. So, we all had
dinner in ‘spoons, Anne had a go at
Appalachian dancing, we did a car shuffle and put the Astra in Whittlesey, then
we all went to bed and in the morning Anne’s drive to work was the shortest
she’s ever had. How’s that for serendipity!
Our booking through Stanground lock was for 10am so we set
off from the embankment at 9:30. Ever since we left Gayton Junction just before
Easter the weather has been kind to us. All the way down the Nene we’ve had
sunny days, fabulous sunsets, gentle breezes; perfect weather for messing about
on the river. For three weeks when we had no fixed agenda and could have
changed our plans on a whim, the benevolent gods of the skies smiled upon us. That
morning they pulled the rug out from under us and we turned up at the lock soaked
to the skin with the boat sideways, after battling through a torrential gale
that kicked off at 9:32. The crew of the boat that was already on the lock
mooring were good enough to brave the storm and grab our ropes so we weren’t
blown out to sea, for which we are eternally grateful. We ducked inside and
stripped off our dripping summer attire and put on some good old fashioned
waterproofs. By the time Tina the lock keeper came out, the rain was abating...
...and by the time we were through the lock...
...and on the waters of the Middle Level...
...the wind had dropped, the sun was peeking through the clouds and we were
rapidly warming up and beginning to sweat inside our waterproof trousers and
big winter coats. We have oft been heard to state, in gleefully condescending
tones, that there is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.
Well, Dear Reader, that morning we were well and truly hoist with our own
The events of the morning were soon forgotten as we made our
way to Whittlesey. As we followed the Back River, King’s Dyke and the Briggate
River the beautiful big skies and endless horizons of Fenland opened out all
around us and we felt like we were home. We negotiated the 90˚ Briggate
Bend in Whittlesey without a hitch and moored up behind the leisure centre.
On May Morning we were up and out of the boat at 4:30. Pig
Dyke were dancing at Holme Fen at dawn - a tradition going back years – and as
we weren’t far away we drove over to join them.
A remote bit of the Middle
Level Navigation actually dead ends at Holme Fen and we had considered taking the boat
there the day before and staying overnight, but it would have meant picking the
pace up a bit so we didn’t. With hindsight we wish we had; more about that
The last time we were there was just after we’d sold the
house and we were living in the camper.
After all the dancing we went back to Kit and Jessa’s for a
fabulous full English then returned to Legend. After dismantling the big box to
reduce our air draught, we boated on through Ashline lock and along Whittlesey
Dyke, turned right onto the Old River Nene at Floods Ferry...
...and ducked under the
very low White Fen Farm Bridge...
...then stopped at the delightful public mooring just
by the black and white bridge at Benwick.
After lunch we got the bikes out and
cycled straight into a head-wind all the way back to Whittlesey to collect the
car. Ron and Rose from Pig Dyke Molly live in Benwick so after a quick phone
call they came down for a cuppa. Later we went round to theirs for a Chinese and
a laughter filled evening in their lovely home, and they were good enough to do
a car shuffle for us to Ramsey. What a lovely full day! We know it will only be
for a short while but it’s so good to be among our old friends again.
On the Saturday we set off for Bill Fen Marina just outside
Ramsey where we’d booked Legend in for the week while we flew to Ireland for
Shandy’s birthday. This was a first for us as we’ve never put the boat in a
marina before; we’ve always left it somewhere we felt safe on the towpath.
Unfortunately, apart from the very good - but of course restricted - public
moorings, there are very few places on the Middle Level, or the rivers for that
matter, where it’s physically possible to get into the side and off the boat,
let alone feel safe about leaving it. Add to that the fact that without
employing some elaborate rise and fall mooring contraption, the fluctuating
water levels mean you stand a very good chance of returning to find, at very
best, your boat leaning drunkenly to one side. Even if our lovely friends Martin
and Yvonne, who keep Evolution at Bill Fen, hadn’t had a word with the owners
and got us a special rate, it’s fairly certain we’d have booked ourselves in
anyway. Being in a foreign country and worrying about what’s happening to all
your worldly belongings is not the way to enjoy your holiday.
Rose came aboard at Benwick and pointed out all the places
of interest on the way into Ramsey and got to see her local walks from a
different angle. Just before Lodes End Lock we turned left into High Lode and
right through the flood gate into the marina then, between gusts, carefully
picked our way, round the other boats to moor up in the only spare slot, just
along from Evolution.
Ron arrived to take Rose home and we went for a walk
round the town. While we were window shopping we bumped into Kit and Jessa, so
they came back to the boat for a little snack. All these lovely people! What a
social life we have!
The next day we were off to Luton and Belfast. As this is
first and foremost a boating blog we’ll spare you the details and just cover
the main points.
Paddy is still adorable and was even more excited to see us
than we were to see him.
Shandy has almost finished laying the new flooring
downstairs and it looks fantastic.
Dave did some wall-papering and they were very pleased with
We went to see the Giants Causeway and it didn’t rain...
had lunch in a tea room in Ballintoy which was yummy.
Chloe took us to Derry where she works and we had a day
walking round the walls and learning all about the history of the city.
Five days after arriving we said many fond farewells, then
joined the other 24 passengers (we could have had a row each) on the red-eye
back to Luton and got home to Legend and into bed at 2am.
After a well-earned lie-in we were up in time to welcome
Martin and Yvonne back to their boat, then in the afternoon we paid our (very
reasonable, considering how much peace of mind it gave us) bill, and manoeuvred
ourselves back onto High Lode, where we turned right and did the last half mile
to moor at the limit of navigation in the basin at Ramsey.
Later on our friends
from Evolution came to dinner and we had another fabulous evening in their
company. In the morning we reversed roles and walked up to the marina for
breakfast aboard Evolution. Our plan for the day was to finally take the boat to Holme
Fen where we’d been with Pig Dyke Molly the week before. Martin and Yvonne were
going to set off a little while after us and head towards Peterborough so we
weren’t going to see them again until September. There were lots of hugs and
goodbyes then off we went. As legend passed under the bridge outside the marina
they came out and waved and we all said goodbye again...
...then we carried on up
High Lode to the lock.
The plan was to turn left through the lock and carry on
to Nightingale’s Corner and eventually New Dyke, but when we got to the junction
we found another boat sideways across the lock entrance blocking the landing
stage. The stiff westerly breeze that was trying to blow us away from the gates
had no doubt been their downfall, but their predicament instantly escalated our
ability to turn into the lock from difficult to impossible. With the only other
option being to dither about until we were blown into the reedy bank, Dave
pulled the tiller hard over, gunned the engine, and we swept under the bridge
away from the lock; the wind now on our tail and our nose pointing back towards
Benwick. Once more boating to Holme Fen has eluded us. When we come back in
September we’ll have another go, meanwhile we’re off to the Great Ouse.