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I'm happy that its non-fatal at least. Heal well and fast.

Jan 10. - Ready, Steady, Go... or not.

**Its not me. **
A nagging doubt has been hindering me, a spider gnawing in the back of my mind for weeks now. It started on the second day of my journey from Enfield, when on the crisp beautiful fall morning I climbed out of Miracle to the captain’s chair and turned the key.

Nothing happened.
I tried again, Nothing.
I went inside and made coffee.
I grabbed a cigarette and sat dumbfounded.

I must remember what the last owner said about starting. I close my eyes tightly and try to recall the scene willing my memory to go back to the one time he let me start the boat.

It’s very important to do things in the right order.
I nod. This is important. I MUST REMEMBER THIS.
*If it doesn’t start, check that you’ve put the clip on the kill switch. *

It won’t start without it.
I look down at the gear shifter and further down to the pin where the lobster claw of a clip fastens to the pin.
It was there this a.m. I am sure.
I refasten it.
I insert the key.
Make sure the shifter is in neutral. I jog it gently to be sure.
It is.
And most importantly is the little red button.
He points to a faded greyish pink piece of plastic beside the shifter. If he’d not said it was red I never would have guessed.

It goes in and out.. engaged if its.. It must be ...to start.
It must be what? I'm blanking.

Is it in or out? I can’t conjure the rest of the sentence.
In frustration I try both and when the engine purrs to life I immediately forget if the red button was in or out.
FAIL.

I’ve repeated this scenario exactly 3 times since that day.
I’ve checked the batteries.
I’ve tried the red button both in and out.
I’ve even called the mechanic,ehm, twice.
As soon as he got there, it started.

I looked a fool.
The most recent was the afternoon we travelled to Hackney Wick. Frustrated after an hour of checking connections and battery power and prompted by the fading daylight the Norwegian strapped Miracle to the side of his 55 footer and towed us beside him.

The entire journey I was filled with shame.

Last night he declared that he was going to see what was up with my engine. Clearly it’s been on his mind.

It’s electrical. I’m pretty certain.

I go through the start procedure with him and explain that last time the mechanic has told me that starting it in the right position is imperative, otherwise it will activate the “kill” and need to reset itself.

Faffing and bumbling I try the little red button in. Nothing.
I try it out, Nothing.
I repeat.
He repeats. The engine give a whine. I try the exact same again, nothing.
Let’s check your batteries.
No. Everyone suggests that and every time my batteries are full. That is not it. I’m getting snappy, I know it’s miss placed frustration.

He says nothing.
Lets take the lid off then and see what’s going on.
I can’t remember how.
I get the manual, and the lid comes off.

I want to pull start it, do you have the cord?

I hand it to him.

With the first yank the engine roars to life and just as quickly the Norwegian lunges at the key and flips it to off. The engine stops.

I’m confused.
It’s on full throttle, that’s why I killed it. It’s bad for a cold engine.

Oh.
He turns away to go to his boat.

I flick the key in hope.

It groans, and a huge spark flies up.

Is it supposed to spark? In his slow manner he comes back to me.

Where was the spark?

About there, I point to the area where there’s a black lead and a red one both fastened to bolts. It suddenly dawns on me that this is the electrical connection to my battery. They look the same.
He reaches over and touches the bolts. They’re loose.

I told you it was electrical, he's tightening them. You’ll get used to the parts that rattle loose and know to check them first.

So it’s sorted? I feel quite smug.

No. You got another problem. Your throttle won’t disengage. I’m going to get my tools

He opens up the black box where my shifter is. So far this has been a mystery to me and I’m keen to see what’s inside. In a few minutes he gets up.

I know what the issue is, take a look and tell me if you see it too.

I don’t know what to look for.

Just look and figure it out. He smiles and walks away.

Inside the black box two cables are wound around a series of steel arms and it’s clear that one of the arms is loose and won’t move the cable..

Is the arm broken?

No, its loose and when it got so it wouldn’t hold the cable. See the bent casing? It’s supposed to be straight. Now that it’s bent it won’t stay in the catch.

I play with the gear shifter and as he says the loose arm disengages.

It’s getting dark now, I’ll fix it tomorrow.

He’s already started putting it back together then he looks up.

You know what this means?
I wait.

It means you did know how to start it, it was just broken.

does anyone have a tangine I could try? I miss my slow cooker - but it's not boat appropriate being 240w. I want to keep experimenting with cooking on the woodburner. So far I've only done soups and that's worked but since the woodburner runs 6-8 - 10 hrs a day anyhow I'd like to try something a bit more substancial.
ps. anyone else keen on a slow cooker, I have one I won't be using. Its a nice one with the removable ceramic inside..

New Gas ran out today at breakfast.
For conservative estimates I expect to use 2 per month and refil my water 3 times per month. I'm starting to really like my shower. Today it dawned on me that my current shower is actually at least as good - water pressure wise as half of the flats I've lived in here in London.

Yesterday the Norwegian went to Stonebridge for a shower.
He came back grumpy.
The showers have been out of hot water since new years. He was still dirty. He's got a nice shower on his boat but no hot water. It's one of the downsides to buying a sailaway from someone who isn't a builder. The upside was the price and knowing he's handy enough that in time he'll fix the mistakes.

I offered him my shower. This time he's agreed and when he comes out he's clearly impressed.

@sunray - lovely to meet you and scooby too! And dinner would be lovely. I will let you know.

@brickman. HELL YES I know someone who'd trial it. :) If not me, perhaps the Norwegian - he currently has a wind turbine but thinks of it as a massvie costly mistake. He'll tell you its noisy and problematic when finding moorings that it can be used from. I can't tell you the make but from what I know about him, he doesnt mess about with second rate kit.

My solar pannel is my sole source of electric - when you see it you'll understand. Its MASSIVE.. its done well thus far even when there's not been sun for days. I only use it for laptop, phone, shower / bilge pump and lights.

I've gone off trying to use coal. My burner is a wood only model and after the initial attempts with coal which were only marginally successful I spoke with someone knowlegeable who mentioned that my particular burner may get dammaged if continued coal heat was applied. I love my burner, Jon at Windy Smithy makes beautiful and well designed stoves that are fit for purpose and I don't fancy ruining it.

@cedywedy I'm just near the bridge with the red circle thing on it. I'm the only boat that's two abreast. do stop by!

@brickman. My 13kg calor costs 20gbp - so far on the new one I've had it going about 3 weeks. I've cooked at least once a day and had 6 proper hot showers thus far.. so pretty good. I expect it to last me 1 month. I've been teaching the norwegian how to cook this month so most of my main meals have been cooked on his boat.. but even if my usage on my boat is ddoubled I'm still quite happy with the Calor consumption.
I've fill my water on average every 12-14 days. Relative to the boats tiny size my water tank is massive. This is something I'm quite happy about.

As for my electric - I opted for the biggest FKing solar pannel and most effecient converter on the market, it's over the top - on purpose.. I won't ever run out of electric even in the dead of winter.

this afternoon Miracle will be going to moor at HACKNEY WICK for the first time. If you're about and local please feel free to come by and say hello. We'll be there from this afternoon up until the 21st.

In the spring i am planning to start heading westward and, depending on interest I may publish the route of where we'll be if anyone wants to come aboard and have a go. (also to meet those on bigger boats aka EVERYONE so I can come aboard and be jealous!)

i'm getting pics of Duckie's brother sent to me YAY!!! I called him Nono, now much loved member of the Joe S clan and named Eddie - I've not seen him in 9 months very exciting. He was / is (i am sure) such an amazing little dude. Can't wait!

Dan, this is amazing. Talking to you at LMNH about it was brilliant. Are you going to take time delay photos of the trip (please say yes!) it would be an amazing film. My friend ross did this on his trip through Oz and I loved seeing the bits he showed me.

the strap is back on Miracle.. helping emensely.

@beardie - I know exactly what you mean. I was chopping up garlic last night and it was a gamble if I'd hit it or my fingers!!

We, the Norwegian, the hippy and myself are moving today down to hackney wick. I'm hoping to meet up with Charlie Mist!

After the first storm a lot of the boats here moved up river to more solid ground - literally. Apparently the filterbed area has recently been re done and as such the soil here hasn't compacted sufficiently. No less than 5 boats were loose the other morning. I tried to help one but I'm still pretty nervous about jumping onto roof of a boat.

The Norwegian, who has no such fear, jumped onto the pair that were entirely loose and floating up stream to wake the still sleeping occupants to get them up (it was 7am) and to heip him get them secured.
They were pretty confused but grateful.

heal soon x

?

Jan 3.
**
**The gales came in last night.

Miracle is tied to the Norwegian’s 50 footer as I only have one mooring pin.

In this weather, one will not suffice.

I can’t pretend I got much sleep last night.
Even with a full water tank and our good ballast it doesn’t take much to be bouncing about.
She is only 3 tons after all.

The only time last night when the straining of the three mooring ropes and the swaying of the bed wasn’t at the fore front of my mind was when at quarter to 12 I got a phone call from home. For those 15 minutes only the cheery and slightly rum slurred words on the other end mattered.
I laughed with them, we joked.

I promised my sea faring uncle, that yes, if he came to London I would most definitely take him for a ride about on my narrow boat. No doubt he has since looked up narrow boats on line and discovered they are no relation to his own 20 foot hobby sailboat "Goose" or the sleek lined elegance of the champion vessel they race in the coastal regattas the men in my family so heartily enjoy.

It’s hard to say which of us was more nervous last night being pitched too and fro in the river.
By 7am I’d probably had 3hrs sleep.
Duckie scratching at the door finally got me up. So violent were the winds that I didn’t notice that someone had stepped onto Miracle. In calm weather the weight of a person stepping onboard causes an unmistakable lurch.

As I opend the door to allow Duckie out, the Norwegian apologised for waking me.

*You may have noticed you’re bouncing about a bit. *

Understatement.

*I’ve just tied you with my ratchet strap. It should be a bit more stable now. *

And it was; until at 9am.

I heard the strap snap and fall against the hull. The boat is back to swaying. I am in the shower. Happily, the advantage to a tiny shower is, there's no place to fall. I knock about a bit, two inches or so and quickly end the shower.

The rain is coming in sheets with the gales.
The clouds are racing east.
I decide to finish my coffee.
My hair is still wet from the shower.
There are still three ropes holding me.

Then, I put on my waterproofs and gloves and go out to inspect and hopefully fix the ratchet strap which up until now had stabilised Miracle nicely.

I know the theory behind a ratchet strap.

Standing between the boats, foot on each and heaving back and forth in the cold lashing rain, all of this logic does not combine to help me find the solution.

**The strap is in two. **

The hook is bent and I can’t see where it may have been attached before bending.
I give up.
I go to my stern and grab my fourth rope.
I tie it as tight as I can manage between the swells and come inside.
I ring my gloves out in the sink.
I ring my hair.
I muse why it seemed so essential get dry after my shower today.

I’m going to have to ask the Norwegian about the ratchet strap, he uses it to secure his motorbike onboard so it’s an essential piece of kit for him.
I hope I’m just being daft and its not broken.

@LW - its either obsession or he's put together that he gets treats whenever he goes in... lol

@purple mist - i do hope you get the leak sorted!!! Wish I could help but you know how green I am still. The Norwegian or his mate a clean cut hippy (both very good at metal works) may be able to help.

I'm really looking forward to meeting you east then heading toward little venice actually so let me know where you're at. Can't wait to see ROE, she sounds simply lovely.

Duckie seems obsessed with climbing the Norwegian's boat, and he's failing spectacularly. He seems to think the window bars are a ladder and has AGAIN this a.m. gone under.

My hearing of such sploshes and cat cries has gotten rather fine tuned and it took me about 45 seconds to be out at 8am in barefoot and braless to fish him out.
I'm now waiting for my towel to dry so I can shower. We need to get to a non corrugated bank, all this Duck - Fishing is giving me grey hair.

29 Dec. Duckie vs Dog

Duckie is turning into a tom.
He's nearly a year old now and he's begun to fill out into his adult shape.
I'm constantly amazed when I catch sight of him at specific angles and I can see the adult features starting to change his kitteh cute into maturity.

We're at the end of the tow path at the Hackney filterbeds now and there's one good willow that he's be practiciing climbing since our arrival. He's not accustom to the narrow boat dog population that's prevelent here. Happily the dogs are all quite chilled and passive toward the cats, most seem to have cat companions in fact.

Regardless, Duckie has made it clear that he's not down with the dogs.

Last night I was visiting the Norwegien to watch a movie, Duckie was out. Down here about 200m from the Leabridge road it's pretty quiet. People rarely walk the river at night. The towpath is temporarily suspended so its a dead end.

So, what happened was quite surprising.

There was a thump, then the terrible sound I shall never forget of scrabbling of claws against hull.
I bolted to attention.

*Its duckie in the water. *

The Norwegian is in his boots out the door closely followed by me in socks. By the time I get out he's on the roof of his boat looking on both sides to see Duckie and he's yelling at the hooded owner of the Staff that's going mental to put it on its lead.

**The hooded figure is unresponsive. **

*Can you please put your dog on its lead. *

Nothing.

Can you please put your dog on its lead.

The hood raises and I see long blond hair framing a gaunt face wtih glassey eyes and an unfocused stare. She has the lead in her hand and in slow motion begins to approach her dog.

The dog is confused.
He's circling about.
In the confusion, he's missed Duckie's scramble up the bouys (hung in horizontally with extra ropes for claw insertion at the waterline only a few days ago, until hessian can be found) back onto land past him and up the willow.

Eventually the dog is leashed and she continues in her daze to walk toward the fence that blocks the path. The fence is inches from her face and she's clearly unsure as to what to do.

You can't go any further calls the Norwegian, still atop his boat.

My eyes have adjusted and I'm scanning the woods and the tree I know Duckie's been practicing on.

"Duck Duck Duck"

Silence.

*He went into the woods. *

Duck Duck Duck

It's too cold to leave him out here and he may be hurt.

Duck Duck Duck.

Walking toward the willow I see a flash of white. I'm nearly below him when he finally meows back to my call.

He's shaking.
He's dripping.
He looks so small with his hair plastered against the shivering frame.
He won't come down to me.

The dog and its owner have disappeared back down the towpath. I go to my boat and get the fish treats Duckie got for Christmas from Chris and Julia. The smell of those coax him down low enough to allow me to grab him.

He lets me lift him off the tree and I hold him close, soaking my front completely.

Inside he tollerates a rub down with a towel and an inspection for cuts, then goes off to sit and clean in front of the stove.

When the movie is done, I find Duckie, dry and alseep infront of the stove. He doesn't wake up when I pick him up to leave but he starts to purr.

^ i think you're right. in time.

Dec 27.Tow path Christmas.

On the 23 after about two minutes of chatting and being given a coffee the Norwegian is looking at my hands.
*You burnt yourself again i see. *
Yup, its horrible but at least I'm getting to look like a boater. I smile.

His brow knots up and he purses his lips. I've come to recognise this is the visual signals him thinking about something.

I wait.

He half gets up from his couch, then shakes his head and sits back down.
He looks at back at the patchwork of burns across my hands.

*OK. *
He gets up and rummages about in his cupboards and then presents me with a shiney green Christmas box.

Open it he grunts and looks away.
I wasn't expecting a present.
The Norwegian has been quite adimit that Christmas is just another day to him and he doesn't celebrate.
Now, he's gotten me a gift.
To my surprise its a pair of Red Leather welding gloves.

So you dont burn your hands no more. He offers.
I get it.

I don't feel awkward about the mug I am going to give him now.

Dec 25th - 8am

I brought the Norwegian a Christmas present.
When I hand it to him he starts flapping.
I've caught him off guard and he tells me so. He's not ready to do Christmas presents it seems in Norway they do presents after the evening meal. I tell him its no problem and he can do it later.

We're all going to have a bon fire tonight after a pot luck style meal.

I'm pretty nervous to meet what appears to be the owners of some 30 boats moored up here for Christmas. The Norwegian knows most of them but I think he's nervous too.

He can't cook so he's never accepted an invitation to dinner before now.

What type of person accepts a dinner invite when they can't receprocate? he'd asked me when I expressed surprise at this. *I don't want to be that bastard so I just say no thanks. *

I got the feeling he would have again refused if I'd not been so keen.

We've found a trading point in cooking.
It's a relief. Since he confessed to only eating take away and ready meals, I'm teaching the Norwegien some very simple and quick receipies and he's helping me up the vertical curve of boating life.

I've promised to make the food.

I had a salad at LMNH the week before Christmas and i'm going to recreate it for the pot luck. It's got roast sweet potato, tomatoes, toasted sunflower seeds and spring onion. I'm making it on the Norwegian's boat, partly because he's going to watch and learn and mostly because his kitchen is much bigger.

**I've also gotten him a proper knife. **

Because he doesn't cook his kitchen knives are cheap, dull and horrible.
I clocked that and came prepared.

You're going to have to open your presents now. I tell him. (I'm not prepared to tourture myself cooking with his knives)

He opens the mug and giggles. It's big enough. He's really pleaesd.
I'm gonna save it til my one breaks.

Then he opens the knife.
He looks at it, touches the blade, feels it's weight and reads the name on the blade then turns to me. It was an expensive gift, too expensive for how long we've known eachother but I want him to enjoy cooking.

I know that's the nice gift he motions to the blade, but I'm really excited by this one, he picks up the mug again and smiles like a kid who's just been given a large amount of candy.

There's a lot of chatter and commotion outside.
There was talk of naked running this morning. I look out the window and see it's not running but rowing.

Two row boats each with a couple. Naked.

The boys, sitting with legs close together modestly only have bowler hats and wellies on, the girls are in carnaval feathers and lingerie respecitively. They're drinking champagne and going boat to boat to say hello.

We're the last on the line and run out to greet them with Baileys. The other boaters have met them with good cheer, no one is upset.. a pensioner walking on the towpath called out she'd love to join them.

**If they were looking to outrage, they've failed. **

We go to the kitchen and I explain the salad. I give him the spring onion and he begins the prep with his new knife.

It dawns on me, I'm really looking forward to my first boating Christmas.

they're just at clapton beardie. We're south Leabridge road about 200 meters. Its a conservation area. Really nice for so close to town.

Christmas on the Towpath:
Last night the Norwegien asked me where I wanted to be for Christmas. He wants to go to the Filter Beds and showed me on the map where that was. Alot of the people he knows will be down there and I think the quiet of Stone Bridge is starting to bore him. He checked Springfield and there's no room for me or him without asking people to move closer to eachother - not something I really want to do..
So with luck we'll mosey down there and I'll expereince my first Towpath Christmas surrounded by total strangers.
Intrepid.

^beardie they're so cute!! and if thats in your boat, WOW. Is she a widebeam?

Dec 19:
To do list:

• get frim commitment from dock yard as to when they'll sort my reverse.
  
• meet miss mist and get log (YIPPEEE)
  -convince the Norwegian I can use his axe without losing limb
  
• start talking to people on the river about possibly nominating self as a member of Canal and River Trust to represent continious cruisers on the river
  
• write my mission statement for above
  
• buy The Norwegian a thank you present for everything he's done to help me (he needs a new coffee mug)
  
• go to brick lane and get a grate
  
• get hesian sack from Nude coffee for Duckie ladder
  
• purchase 20kg fishing net
  

[QUOTE=beardie;2580843]If your gearbox is a prm/hydraulic type,a low oil level can cause this.We have a small leak on ours,and generally reverse is the first one to go!There is what looks like a nut on top of the gearbox casing.If you take it out,it may or not have a short dipstick on it.You can fill it here.Most can be topped up with ordinary engine oil,but its worth checking first.
QUOTE]

Thanks for the reply, I have no idea what most of what you said means though, FAIL. I can see the gages that indicate oil though and its fine, I think. I've called the man who fixed it twice now.

I really want to get to the filter beds before next week, but the Norwegian refuses to let me travel until reverse is working. (I do understand why)

Midnight Fishing Expeditions

**Dec 15. **
That looks like a quality lock.
The Norwegian is eyeing up the Kryptonite lock in my hand. I think he's impressed that I would own such a practicality.

Yea it should be I smile, they're the best - about 100 quid, but worth it.

Dec. 17.
I've borrowed a Kryptonite from the cafe to determine if the longer or shorter one is what I need to buy, tonight I have the shorter one and I think that its the one that works best. I've owned two Kryptonites in eight years. The first was in a bag that was stolen and the second, after six years finally seized and I had to have the fire brigade cut it off; it took 15 mins once I'd convinced them it was my bike.

They are my lock of choice.

The boat is rocking as I step on, bike over shoulder. I lift it over the back rail and rest it on the cage that protects my outboard. I loop the cheap cable lock through the wheel and frame and spin the combination. *It's not an anti theft device, a pair of hedge clippers would snip it in seconds; its an anti jacqui device to stop me from losing my Jackson to the river. *

I hold the kryptonite and insert the key, the horeshoe side comes free easily and I'm about to put it through the rear triangle. The conversation with the Norwegien flickers in my memory.

*Well, at least I haven't dropped it in. *

In that moment, as if to spite me, I watch as the horeshoe slips from my glove and falls in slow motion into the blackness.

Splash.

*Fuck. *I've just lost 100 quid of lock.

What's worse is it'll cost me twice that as I'm going to have to replace it and buy my own. I can't leave my bike outside without the Kryptonite.

Fuck.

I pull the cable lock and open it. I haul my bike onto the deck. I'll have to bring it in, this means taking of the wheel and makes entering Miracle a bit like a game of Twister. DAMNIT.
With the bike in, I grab food from the cupboards and make my way to the Norwegian's boat. I'm disappointed with myself.

I want a beer.

I've dropped my lock in the Lee, I tell him.* I'm gonna have to buy another one.*

He nods acknowledgement and purses his lips. No.

I look at him.

In that case we'll go fishing. You don't give up on 100 quid of lock like that. You gotta try.

I don't really know what he means but I nod. Ok, we'll go fishing.
I stop taking off my coat.

**He doesn't move. **

Not now, we gotta do it at night.

The rain continues until 10pm and when it stops the Norwegien goes to the back of his boat to his tool room. He comes back with a long bar, duct tape and a peice of metal wire. I wonder why he has these things.. but I am grateful he's got a tool room to "magic" these things out of.

This, he holds up the metal bar, is the magnet.

You've got a hook, yea? We're gonna duct tape my torch to the end and see if we can see your lock. Then we're gonna put the magnet on it and bring it up.

I'm conguring the duck pond game from the town fair in my head.
I don't think it's going to work, but I don't want to say that and appear ungrateful.

We go to my boat and I start my fire before we begin.
He tapes the torch to my hook. He looks like he's going spear fishing. I giggle. He smiles and checks the tape.
Then he shows me that at night with a torch you can see the river bed.

After about 10 mins, he informs me he doesn't see it.

He's already told me he's tired and he's been yawning all night. I feel guilty. He calls me out from making my fire and suggests I do the searching.* Only now, I realise he's been looking for something that he's only seen once. He doesn't really know what it looks like.*

It's about 30 seconds before I spot the silver catch of the lock glinting in the submurged torch light. It's exactly where I'd have expected.

Ok now you gotta lower the magnet onto it. I'll hold the light.

He's on the shore holding the light spear, while I, leanning my lower thighs on the back rail and hanging most of my body over the water try to lower the magnet onto the horsehoe of the lock.

I'm excited. It may just work.

Dipping and laying the magnet on the lock is harder than it looks.
The water here is much deeper than I'd imagined.
The first successful contact brings the lock up right, then it falls off and a cloud of silt blinds us for a few minutes.

The Norwegian sighs, declares that the magnet isn't strong enough and walks back to his boat.

He's got to be up at 6am. I feel terrible to keep him up and when he returns i say this.

He looks me square in the eye, tomorrow they're may be too much silt on it for the magnet to find it again. I got a stronger magnet.

Second contact is a solid one and I nervously begin to pull the magnet and my catch up.

*You're gonna have to get wet now. *

When you get it close enough you need to reach in and get it, so it don't drop off. The magnet may not be stong enough out of the water.

He takes the line from me and I get on my knees and push up my sleeve.
The water is icy. I'm up to my elbow, but I have contact with the lock and grab hold tightly.

I stand up with it in my hand.

That is how you go fishing, he smiles.