With the Severn still closed, le boat waits quietly, patiently, until the river is ready for careening. But that didn’t stop some progress!
This morning I went over to clear things, run the engine and make some measurements for dry dock work which I planned this week, ready for when that may be. That also means new item shopping, like a welder! :D
Besides that, insurance called to talk about the surveyor returning to measure the hull (who’s liable?), and I re-started pottery in my quest to make the boat’s crockery. And from 2 weeks back, when a furry friend made himself welcome:
Hello! This week was exciting like I’d hoped for on the canals: uneventful.
Monday I went to the boat for more carnage clearing, and to take photos for insurance. I also started the engine, right away, delightfully — it starts quicker and runs smoother than pre-dunking. Here’s Henry:
On Thursday the insurance inspector came, and he knew the score; a ”salty dog” that built his own narrowboat in the 70s, minus the salt. He took some photos, we chatted, and he asked who did my spray foaming. “That’s the one thing I’ve never done,” he said. “I always get the professionals in.”
The professionals, you say? T’was I.
The big event for me was Saturday: moving to Stratford-upon-Avon. I am officially housed — I have mains water! And mains sewage! No longer in a field, I have to admit this is glorious; the only thing missing is a boat nearby to finish renovating — I now have a bet to complete it by the end of September.
Oh buoy. This week Katona sank, but let’s back up.
Last Sunday ended with the boat wedged on some debris in a lock, CRT inbound on Monday morning. I got there at 0750 to meet Joe & Simon, and after hatching a plan to un-wedge it I went to start the engine. Only it was underwater, and looking inside the cabin was filling up with oily water, too:
Things went quickly, so I called the River Canal Rescue and waited to hear back. Within 2 hours the boat sunk to the bottom of the lock:
Luckily that only went up 1m inside, as going under completely would’ve really been a downer:
As for why it sank, locks always leak a little and being wedged the water built up behind, which eventually breached one of the drains to the deck, and one thing lead to another.
That afternoon the CRT dedicated a notice in Katona’s honour and some contractors came to assess the sitch, but without a license from the CRT to work in the dark we agreed to meet at 0800 on Tuesday morning.
Sure enough, right on time, they show up with a boat load of kit and their monster truck, a 20t winch:
The plan was simple: 1) drain the canal, 2) drain the boat, 3) seal the boat 4) raise the canal, and maybe 5) winch the boat out, if it was truly stuck.
Me:There are portholes in the front by the way. Recovery team:Portholes?? Where? Me, pointing at the bow under water:Right there, 2 on each side under the water. Them:Portholes?! Under the gunnel?! Do you know if the glass broke or cracked? Me:Glass? I’m renovating at the moment, I took them out. Hadn’t got to that part. Them, looking at me in disbelief: …
To be clear, the portholes in the front were not why it sank: they’re normally above the waterline, and the stern went first.
Because the pound was somewhat small, draining meant simply opening the next lock’s paddles, and didn’t need an entire canal:
Oh and we found a motorbike under the bow (not why it got stuck):
The recovery team then got their pumps out to empty the boat, which was around 40t of water I figure, a little too much for me to lift:
Not long after with the boat mostly drained, they boarded up the portholes and plugged any water entry points, like drain pipes and vents. Then, the moment of truth: slowly fill the canal.
Although I originally got wedged on a piece of debris (wood, probably?), the boat was 1m lower and jammed at an angle in the lock: the starboard side against the gunnel, and the port side along the “chine” — a sacrificial edge at the bottom of the boat, which I learned was kinda huge (I’ll trim that).
Luckily that wasn’t an issue, and as if by magic (buoyancy? Archimedes?!) when the water level rose so did the boat. A few minutes later and it was level, floating once more and free to go. We jumped on the roof to push it out of the lock, and glide it did! I was beaming to say the least; as if Katona was coming out of a cave, she had risen.
It wasn’t over for the CRT though: the lock gates now wouldn’t close. When you drain the pound, things move at the bottom and here was no exception, so we pulled the boat through the next lock — successfully! by hand! — so they could drain it once more to fix the gates.
And although I was on a high, my work had just begun: the boat was a mess, and the engine had been underwater for 2 days. I had to get it running, pronto.
I started by draining the rest of the water out of the bay, then pumped out another 6l from the engine itself before I hit oil. After that I took the injectors off to get the cylinder water out by cranking a few times, and I didn’t appreciate how much power the starter had until 4 oily jet streams went flying over the towpath. Luckily nobody was around, but I did lose a bunch of injector washers.
Wednesday morning I went back to change the oil, replace the fuel filter, and everything was ready to go. I wired up the ignition, turned the key and started cranking. It sounded promising and I heard a few cylinder fires, but the starter motor solenoid puffed a whole lotta smoke:
(Photo from earlier, I took that to remember the wiring colours.)
Hoping the starter itself was okay, I called around to see who had a spare and found a place in Redditch that not only had a one but would fit it for me! So off I went and 2 hours later returned, starter motor in hand, ready to rumble.
Once more I wired up the ignition, turned the key, and the ol’ engine sputtered to life. It started a little grumpy, but was running smoothly in short order:
Honestly I just love diesel engines. I took them for granted until I replaced the head gasket on this one last year, but they’re so magical. After running for a couple of hours I headed home, finally set to do a day of £££ work on Thursday.
And although the engine ran, there was constant white smoke from the exhaust, which probably meant water in the diesel. So on Friday I filtered the fuel to fix that, then set out to find some electricity for draining the residual water in the boat. Luckily somebody I met on Monday walked by, and I told them what I was up to; they suggested I moor up alongside their little boat just 200m down the canal…! What luck!
So that I did, motored down to find Steve, Liz and their boat Froxfield at the bottom of their garden to borrow some electricity. After pumping the water out they offered a cup of tea and a tour of their boat, which was a lovely 30ft “campervan on the water.”
While draining the water tank I had a look around, and… little sigh. The paint in there was bubbling, and easily scraping off. I’m not sure if that’s because of the water, but I’d only done the primer undercoats and not the water-safe overcoat:
On Saturday I changed the oil once more, including for the gearbox, and with help from a friend took the boat through the 2 final narrow locks — the last being the narrowest of them all on this stretch! — without a hitch to the edge of Worcester, waiting for the River Severn when it opens.
A chaotic week, but there were a lot of silver linings which made staying upbeat a doddle: only a half-sunken boat; having bought the nice water-proof insulation; not having finished the nice fit-out. And this was a minor incident compared to other boats this week…
Coding is great, but I do love working on the boat. It feeds my soul, and I’m excited for a summer of it.
You’re not gonna believe this, but first: happy Sunday!
Moving the boat on weekends is normally quite chill: cruise a little, do some locks, cruise a bit more. Yesterday I plodded along for about 8 miles, through 1 little tunnel:
And did 10 locks, until I reached one that wouldn’t open:
Some debris had jammed the gate from beneath, and try as I did it wouldn’t budge. I called the CRT to let them know, and by the morning they had fixed it! The joys, the wonders. When I left that evening I also noticed something funny with one of the kitchen windows:
Condensation… between the panes of glass, aka glazing glaze, aka window sweat, aka I need a new window. At least it was an older one, and I know what I’m doing this time.
Then, today… I was making great progress into Worcester, did a bunch of locks, and then deja vu struck: I was stuck. Utterly wedged once more, coming out of a lock. It was apparently wider at the bottom so I tried lowering the water level, but that made things worse:
You’re not supposed to see under the boat when it’s in the water, and raising the level again started sinking the stern:
So the bilge pump was working overtime to drain the flooded engine bay:
Eventually the stern freed itself, and with help from the lovely locals we managed to move the boat forward almost 5 metres, until we ran out of water to create waves and called it a day
Luckily I’m not on the boat and can enjoy central heating for the night in a cosy field, ready to meet the CRT tomorrow morning (I bet they love me).
There are updates! Some quite old now; I forgot to write about them and… one Sunday turned into 12.
Last time we left off with the boat wedged in a lock, waiting for the CRT to sort my shit out. They did come, and they did help, and the outcome was made abundantly clear: we’re not gonna make it. Even if I made it through this lock there were narrower ones ahead, and Stratford was a no-go. Hrm.
With my course charted, I reversed a mile back up the canal with help from mum, and because it can’t reverse she had to keep it straight with the stern line, myself on the helm. It looked exhausting — the boat is heavy!! — but also a little funny <3. It also meant passing the Edstone Aqueduct again, the longest cast-iron one in the UK:
Heading in the right direction, I holed up in a nearby marina for the rest of December and most of January. This was type 2 fun, effectively camping in the blustery weather. And then my diesel heater stopped working…
A few Airbnb’s later I had a plan: head to the river Severn and take the boat to a yard where I could stick it on land to finish the reno, while I once again lived in a field. Life may not repeat, but it rhymes — this time in a caravan, and the central heating is incredibly welcome!
Also someone stole my solar panel..? May the sun’s rays forever trickle charge their batteries. Continuing north, I touched the edge of Birmingham before heading south west toward the Severn, passing a “boat guillotine” (actually a stop lock, used to separate the water levels when they were a few inches apart):
Then, tunnels! I had no idea what was coming, and suddenly saw a hole in the hillside that went on for 2.5km:
Without a boat lamp I strapped a bike light to the front and put a head torch on, and forged ahead for the 40 minute journey. It was cold, damp and glorious — I passed another boat in there, and switched off my lights halfway through to bask in the darkness — all I could see where these 2 pinpricks of light, each 1246.5 meters away.
All was well, and while the yard I was heading to had a crane, it wasn’t big enough for my boat — I’d have to spend several coin purses to get a bigger one so I started looking for alternatives, namely dry docks nearby. First one in Worcester, then I found a DIY one on the river Avon in the middle of nowhere… most of the way to Stratford… where I still had that mooring deposit…
So last Wednesday I woke up looking for apartments in Worcester, and that evening signed on a place in Stratford. Moving in a few weeks, I shall be housed for the first time in years and I CAN’T WAIT. After doing the dry dock work I’ll finish the fit-out in the marina, and be walking distance from my fixed abode with mains water and sewage(!!!).
So, progress! With work taking up my weeks, boating is my weekend gig as I continue moving it west to Worcester, then down the Severn before heading back to Stratford along the Avon. And yesterday I did another 31 locks:
Saying I did 31 locks is a little rich; a friend came to help, and it was the first day they’d been open all winter so there were CRT volunteers galore (a lovely man named David in the photo above). We also passed a radio operator, which was very cool:
Until next Sunday, the party has now started again :)
