Worcester-bound and back again

Hello! Happy Sunday, happy March, happy 2024.

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 :)

- Nick