Chapter 1: The Deep End

Misty Waters arrives at Hilperton Marina having been craned out of the water at Leighton Buzzard before carrying on her journey by road to Hilperton. 

We arrive at 11am keen to see her being craned off the lorry and into the water. But when we get there she is already in the water patiently waiting for us!

We wanted to take photos of her ‘under belly’, to check the survey was, ‘as stated’- to get photographic proof that she had been blackened and had had her adenoids (whatever they call it! ) checked. Basically the reassurance that she wasn’t going to sink!

She looks more tired than I remember her. The journey has battered her somewhat. There are marks on the sides that were once black. I notice a hole in the bow side (yep I am learning) and I start to panic. I don’t know much about boats but I don’t think boats and holes are a good combination. I discover later that they are actually good holes and a key part of the boat, to prevent her from sinking.  As we arrive another boat is being craned out of the water. Huge straps the size of conveyor belts wrapped round the swaying metal giant that is guided into place by men pulling on straps as they steer her onto the lorry- The scene in Gulliver’s Travels comes to mind.

A plus to Misty being in the water was that we were supposed to be paying the lorry driver on arrival but he’d already gone. When we questioned the fact that we had been told to meet the driver at 11 rather than the 8.30 that he had actually turned up, no one seemed bothered.. so we stopped our questions- which meant our first day of owning Misty Waters, we were £900 up.. (for now).

The sayings ‘crash course’, or being ‘thrown in at the deep end’ are phases we have all heard, but never did they seem so real as now. We were now the owners of and responsible for a 52 foot machine made of steel weighing 6 tons or more, and the reality of that weighed heavily on me. After emptying the contents of the first carload into the boat, we were ready to sail away. But apart from the short test drive (which I didn’t even do myself), neither of us had ever been responsible for such a machine. Not only did we not know how to drive her, we were unsure as to whether we had to turn left or right to start our journey to the marina! It’s not like the waterways have roundabouts or junctions where you can turn off should you miss your turning.

To add to the anxiety Misty Waters was parked in the middle of the area where they were craning boats in and out of the water. Call it another excuse but I thought that we should at least let the guys finish craning the boat into the water before attempting to move ours.

It turned out we needed to turn right- which was completely the opposite way to which the boat was facing.

Despite the swinging boats above us, and the 14 point turn that faced us- Sam was keen to get going. She started up the engine and with It her drive. Someone needed to take charge and today it was Sam. I was grateful to say the least- I hadn’t been feeling well for a few days and the thought of doing the smallest thing seemed too much.

Sam turned on the engine-with the push of a button (or two) . I was even impressed with that, because Id forgotten the instructions from the week before when we had our test drive. Sam proceeded to turn the boat around making use of the space of the jetty to the right of us just as a crowd gathered to watch.

It wasn’t a smooth manoeuvre- misty chugged forward and backwards and to the side bashing one end then the other, the whole situation made worse by the audience, but we did it-  2 ladies, 1 narrow boat and a dog (and the addition of Aunty Ju who joined us for the ride).

Three years before, when my wife ended things, I took 6 months out of work, brought an around the world ticket and set off with just a rucksack on my back and went travelling on my own. Deciding that I could either let my situation destroy me, or or I could prove to myself that I could cope on my own. I planned my world trip around a set of outcomes: Healing, Beach time and Chilling, Learning, and Adventure. For the adventure part I signed up to the Sri Lankan Tuk Tuk challenge. I managed to rope in my dad and a friend to join me, and we embarked on a trip, which involved 10 days on the road- covering over 2, 000 miles across the north of Sri-Lanka whilst carrying out an array of daily challenges all in a tuk-tuk. We had one afternoon test driving our tuk-tuks and then we were set loose on the streets of Negumbo- no mollycoddling- just straight in.. It was the same here.

There was no time to ease in gently, because we were in a small stretch of water with other large boats either side of us and we had started the wrong way round. Okay so you only go 4 miles an hour in a boat, so” what harm can you do” ?-(people say)- “just take your time”! But the sheer size of the machine that you are driving is hard to fathom in itself! It takes me time to adjust to a different car, but a 52 foot box of steel?! I struggled to get my head round it. Sam navigated round the other boxes of steel coming towards us with calm and ease- apart from a few “oh fuck me”s and a few missed turnings of the tiller (The key thing is: if you want to go left you turn the tiller right, if you want to turn right- you turn the tiller left) All of this I’m ashamed to say whilst I literally ducked inside and hid each time a boat came our way, until we were safely passed.

The next challenge was parking her up (Whoops! I mean mooring, I still have to learn boating terminology.) We needed to find a spot to pick up some more crew-(Sam’s son and girlfriend) and found a place by the bank. Sam jumped off and confidently grabbed the ropes pulling us closer to the bank . We had watched a few handy YouTube videos about the importance of pulling in the boat from the centre rope, and how to tie the boats up using the marine pins positioned at 45 degree angles. But when I came to pulling the rope Misty wouldn’t budge -adding to my sense of incompetency! Even Sam’s aunty Ju got involved showing me ‘how it’s done’.. I felt rubbish. A few days before I’d not been too well and really didn’t have the energy to pull anything, let alone a big boat.

The Next Challenge 

We had arranged to meet the others at a bridge- so had parked up on a bank as close to the bridge as we could. It turned out however we were at the wrong bridge (or they were!) Given that the bridges are numbered and shown on the map this shouldn’t be too hard to navigate. Needless to say, we were not where we thought we were. So we set off again. When it came to leaving we found that accompanying us in the water was an old bike -Why do people feel compelled to throw bikes in the river? Mindless vandalism which makes no sense to me whatsoever. If you are going to chuck something in the river why not something less functional! 

Boat rudders and bikes are not a good combination- shark’s teeth holding on to its prey. We fight the wheel, revving the engine. As we push away it lets go of its grip and we are freed.

We eventually find the rest of the crew. Sam and her son take it in turns to drive whilst Aunty Ju and I tackle the locks- I am thankful for the additional crew members. I spend more time ‘on the cut’ than the boat- deciding it is easier to walk to the next lock rather than jumping on and off the boat.

After a few hours we decide to stop for a drink and some lunch. We park (sorry! moor) up on the bank- and put in the first stake to the sounds of Aunty Ju’s screams. We have disturbed a wasps’ nest!

From bike wheels to wasps, I feel like we are in a game of ‘killer boating’- where we are met with challenges on the way- and get extra points if we can handle them. Aunty Ju gets stung, as we shut the doors and exit out the back of the boat. Sam stops passers by to warn them of the angry wasps as they hum around the marine pin lying on the ground, like a dead animal.

We find our way to the pub, lost travellers hungry for solace and a place to eat. They are not doing food- so we buy drinks and a tray full of crisps that we devour within seconds- like the angry wasps that we left behind.

It is getting late and we are mindful of the journey that we still have to make. So wearily we make our way back to the boat. We left at 12.00 but it has taken us 3 hours to get to this point. We still have many miles left to go. We have to get to the marina before it is dark. The rules of water are that you are not able to drive after 8pm. So we only have a few hours left to get to our destination.

We are doing okay, until we come to a lock that is locked. Is this our next challenge ? I run up to a couple of boaters enjoying a GnT by the waterside. Invading their moment like the wasps ours. ”Excuse me, I am sorry to disturb you, but we need to get down the canal, and the lock is locked”? You come to discover that a boater is always willing to help another. Find yourself a fellow boater and you have found your trump card- You have banked a token to get you to the next level. He puts down his GnT and walks down to the lock with me. It is locked but you only need to open one side and you can get through- perks of a narrow boat. We unlock the other side and we are through. He waves us goodbye, GnT in the other.

We drive silently up the canal. As dusk falls, the scenery changes along with our mood. There is a stillness that brings calm. We pass weeping willows, birds nests and watch as the day packs itself away for the night.

We arrive at the marina just before 8. The marina’s waters feel vast with boats sat around its fringe, their flags blowing in the breeze. Sam drives Misty waters (as boaters watch on), into the place that will be her home. Into the first stretch of water, around the corner and towards our jetty. Sam drives with skill and calm, as the relief washes away the stress of the day away. We have made it. 

There are two boats either side of our mourning space, and Sam slowly eases Misty in between the middle of them and she slips in like this was her place all along-like Misty was the missing piece. Some people have gathered around, they come to the edge of the jetty ready to take her rope, we throw it and let them pull us in- such a small act of kindness, but in that moment we are anchored, in that moment we belong.