Chapter 3:

From Land to Water and other Elements..

It’s just days before Christmas and we are moving onto the boat. We are no longer ‘land people’. We are joining the ‘water people’.

It is difficult to appreciate just how much stuff you have until you have to box it up and transfer it. When we separated all those years ago I moved out in my Mx5 convertible. With the roof down I had all the space I needed to move all my belongings, including my hat stand! It’s surprising how much you can actually fit in a convertible- think Mary Poppins bag!

What we have accumulated since then however is significantly more! Between us we now have two storage units (AKA shipping containers) of belongings, two car loads of stuff, half a hired garage, and now a full boat.

The move from land is not an easy one, we have 2 exhausting weeks, moving trailer loads of belongings out of Sam’s house, and into the respective stores. By the last day, our backs are like kit-kats, and could break at any moment. We are both exhausted. On the final day, the move crescendos into disaster, as the trailer (with its final load) knocks the wall post over as it exits the drive The post tumbles to the ground like a giant, collapsing -just like we would like to. We are left holding the traffic which includes: two army trucks, a bus and numerous cars, on a small high street, whilst we attempt to move the giant out of the road. All the time trying not to think about the new house owners who are due to arrive any minute!

People get out of their cars to help us, and together we manage to get the large stone post out of the way of the passing traffic. We do our best to secure it and drive away without looking back. Later Sam calls the estate agent and emails the new owners to let them know that she will pay for any costs incurred. It turns out we have strangely done them a favour because a month later we notice they have got rid of the other post-seemingly to avoid hitting it (like we had actually done numerous times)when turning into the drive, but never out of it!

We spend a few days recuperating at Sam’s aunt’s house, before moving onto the water. Watching us move onto the boat laden with belongings, our neighbours joke about seeing people moving stuff onto their boat only to see them moving it all off again due to the lack of space, and we end up doing just that. 

When living in no more than 240 square footage of space (albeit a long space) everything must have a place. I could draw a map of the location of every item in the kitchen cupboard alone but maybe that’s just me! I discover some months later that my mother actually has a diagram of what’s in her kitchen cupboard-so maybe this is something I have inherited from her! 

The engine room is being used as the dressing room and the workshop, each fighting for pride of place and function. To get to the engine though, we have to move the stacker boxes that make the dressing room. To access the tools you have to do the same. Using the space for its different  purposes involves a rubik’s cube of moves whenever you want to get something. When something goes wrong though it’s like a game of Jenga as we have to move one piece,and then the next hoping it all stays in place. Do it incorrectly and it all falls apart. And of course things fall apart.. this Is a narrowescape.org after all!!

Fire: The Electrics

People laugh when we say we are moving onto Misty Waters in the winter, and even more so when we tell them that we don’t have any of the basics such as a working heating system or hot water.

We try to get someone to look at the heating before moving on to her, but it seems boat engineers are in great demand, especially before Christmas.

That’s why ‘everyone needs a Sam’. During the few days staying at Sam’s Aunts and whilst I work from home, Sam endeavours to solve the heating issue. She purchases and fits 2 electric wall heaters for the boat. They are: ‘smart slimline adex neo panel electric heaters’ -which means nothing to me! 

Sam comes back each night, frustrated, cursing the ‘bodge wiring’  and the small space in which to work, not helped by the fact the boat is also filled with boxes that have been dumped on it from the move. After only 2 days however Sam manages to fit the heaters which will apparently more than do the job of keeping us warm ( at one end of the boat anyway). Apparently they can also be controlled from our phones. Which would be great if there was internet on the boat, but we don’t, so not such a smart heater after all! For anyone who is interested here is the link:

https://adax-solaire.co.uk/?gclid=CjwKCAjw1uiEBhBzEiwAO9B_HYu-OO5yXhDJDt984NWIoXSVUDCg1X9X0r6N5rwHM_xhZpaNt4cxShoCOrwQAvD_BwE

The heaters actually turn out to be our life saver, as we struggle to get our main source of heat, the diesel fire, working. We still have no hot water though without having to turn the on engine for two hours but it will do for now. We move onto the boat a few days later.

Any change, particularly a house move, brings with it stress, and we each take it in turns to have mini mental breakdowns as we adjust to life on the water.

Even though we are in the marina, nature’s elements still come to visit us, (from earth to fire to water, and air) touching our shoulders like Grim Reaper, one by one and sometimes together.

*

It starts on our first day! Sam pops to the shops to buy a few bits, whilst I start to unpack the endless boxes. We have put the engine on to heat up the water.  Sam has not been gone very long when I smell burning and panic that it’s the engine. Given that the engine room also houses the dressing room and the workshop, the smell of burning is a cause of concern to me. I decide to turn off the engine and wait for Sam to get home. I press the black ‘off’ button, but nothing happens. I press it again, nothing happens. I panic…. nothing happens.

I have visions in my head of the engine taking off like a rocket, taking the dressing room and workshop with it,  flames trailing behind.  I try to call Sam but nothing happens. My phone does not have any reception. ‘Emergency calls only’ it says. “This is an emergency ” I shout back at the inanimate object, that rudely says nothing in return. I go to our neighbour to see if they can help, they also try the button, but nothing. ‘It’s maybe best to wait for Sam” they say. So that’s what I do. I wait.. 

But I’m frantic. I pace up and down. I’m like a dog waiting at the window for it’s owner, jumping to attention every time someone passes by. When Sam finally gets back she takes charge of the situation. She Rubik’s cubes everything out of the engine room/ dressing room/ workshop, so it’s now just the engine room. And there rattling inside is Misty’s beating heart.

Sam and the neighbour (who’s come back to help) scramble to find the lever that will shut her down, pressing this and that. Eventually they find what they are looking for. They push down and Misty’s beating heart stops 

For a moment there is silence.. as the adrenaline rests, then rises again. Then come the questions: “Why wouldn’t the engine stop”? “What’s wrong with the boat now!?” I say

“There must be a fault with the electrics” Sam says. Despondent she shuts the conversation down like the engine. “Don’t worry I’ll have a look at it tomorrow”.

All around us is debris. It looks like a scene in resus after an emergency. The contents of the engine room/ dressing room/ workshop that minutes before had their place, are now scattered in the small corridor of the boat and further spread out onto the jetty.

Amongst the chaos a neighbour appears like a figure out of the darkness. In her hand a bottle of bubbly adorned with curled blue ribbons. “Here” she says, “to welcome you to the marina”. She looks at our faces and the madness around us, “don’t worry, even if you brought a 80 thousand pound boat you would still get problems”. 

“Thanks” I say. ” It helps to know that we are not the only ship that is sinking”.

I come to discover that the burning smell is not the engine about to take off or the engine about to set fire. In fact it was not the engine at all but next door’s coal fire gently burning, providing them with warmth on nature’s cold crisp day!

*

Over the following days Sam works on trying to get to the bottom of the new issue that is the failed electrics. With her multimeter In her hand she looks more like she is about to play a game of operation than fix the electrics. Part of the challenge is actually finding the wires in the first place, which means following the route to the engine, lifting up the bed, and moving ballasts (which are heavy rocks used to balance out the boat) and then playing a game of cat and mouse to work out what connects to what. She tests the wires, checks the alternator, checks the batteries, but the boat’s batteries still won’t charge.  

In the meantime, Sam drills a hole in the board that covers the engine and using an old bit of rope carefully ties it to the engine lever and places the rope on the outside. This means we now have a nice little pulley that can directly turn off the engine if needed. I look at Sam and smile and kiss her on the cheek.  “Everyone needs a Sam ” I say.

Youtube is on constantly, with the electrics problem still unsolved, Sam continues to research boat engine electrics. She looks up circuit diagrams that look more like a London tube map. I ask a few questions but then decide to leave Sam to it, deciding that actually there is nothing I can offer by way of a solution other than asking if she might like a cup of tea!

A functioning or should we say non- functioning boat is like a game of dominoes. The lady who swallowed the fly also comes to mind. The electrics for example aren’t just connected to the engine, nor do they just control the button that turns off the engine. The electrics control the pump that gives us water, and the pump that drains the water out. It powers the lights and it powers the heating. Simply put, without the working electrics we don’t have water, we don’t have heat, we don’t have drainage and we don’t have light.

It is perhaps at this realisation that Sam has her first mini melt down.  “I can’t take this” she says. “It’s just too much”. It is lockdown and only days before Christmas, but we have no option than to just keep going.

Fire: The Heating

The next day, Sam goes off to buy a battery charger- as a temporary solution to our faulty electrics. A back up system that proves extremely effective until Sam finally accepts defeat and calls in an engineer some months later. Admittedly he too struggles for sometime to find the problem which I believe was simply faulty wiring.

The next challenge is fully heating the boat. Even with the electric heaters at the other end, the boat is cold in the evenings. The main source of heat on our boat is a 30 year old diesel stove. The engineer however takes one look at it and says “I would change that if I were you, unless you want to spend 3 hours or more trying to ‘calibrate’ it” (whatever that means!) “And even then it might not work”. “Also If the boat is not balanced right that could affect the flow of the diesel”.  Another thing I would never have thought about. His words run around my head. Come to think of it, since moving on the boat it has taken on a bit of a slant? Is it the drinks fridge full of Christmas merriment that is to blame? (More on that later). Needless to say, I’m a little concerned about whether we will actually be able to get our diesel stove to work.

As a backup we have Sam’s newly installed electric radiators. But given that we are essentially on a metre they really are supposed to be just that, a back up. We try lighting the diesel stove but it won’t stay lit. Sam scrolls the internet for Youtube videos on how to light a diesel stove, only to find they’re not quite the same stove. We speak to fellow boaters who tell us they would never have a diesel stove -which is not helpful! We eventually find someone in the marina who has a diesel stove and who is in favour of them. ” They are great, I have mine on for days” he says “You have to make sure the regulator is clean”. The what? On the stove there is a grey box to the side. It is used to regulate the diesel going into the stove. Sam has already taken it apart and cleaned this once but takes it apart again. It is clean, so it must be something else that is causing it not to light. 

With the increasing cold on the boat the evenings are getting harder to bear. The romantic idea of being on a boat for Christmas is wearing thin. We try again to light the stove. “this is it” Sam says “I’ve got a good feeling about it”.

 I don’t want to be the negative one. I want to believe in Sam’s positivity because that is what we need. ‘There is no smoke without fire’ right? But there is no smoke and there’s no fire, not for long anyway. We go through the procedure we have been taught: a biscuit size of diesel on the basin; then the fire lighter, then a bit of meths. The stove lights up. Sam times it. Ten minutes pass. Just when we think we have it, it goes out. We try again. We reach 10 minutes. 11 minutes. Sam gets excited, her tail starts to wag. I look up at Sam. A glimmer of hope in my eyes. 12 minutes… The fire’s goes out, just like our spirits.

Whilst Sam pops out I attempt to solve the problem that is the fire. Our neighbour with the diesel fire has told us the basin of the fire has to be ‘ as clean as a dinner plate’. I’m not skilled in DIY like Sam is. I don’t understand electrical circuits that look like tube maps, I don’t understand engines or levers but I can do cleaning and being a food lover, I also understand the meaning of a clean dinner plate!  I get myself a selection of tools to prepare me for the task In hand, including: a head torch (so I can see the basin); a cheese knife because it’s sharp and has a rounded edge that fits perfectly in the basin of the fire. I have a wire brush that looks like granny’s denture brush. I have tissue and I have meths to wipe the soot out. Armed with my tools I feel like a miner going underground as I make my way in, and start to chip away at the soot. I am there for over an hour, every few minutes stopping to feel the basin of the fire to see if it is clean yet. My arm is sore from pressing on the edge of the fire. And soon I am covered in black soot. Then comes the water..

Water

I hear the sound of the rain on the roof. A sound that once brought me comfort as a child, now makes me anxious especially after our last trip. It is dripping on me like God’s water can. I am being rained on and I am inside- this isn’t right! Water continues to come in whichever way it can. A puddle of water is building up on the kitchen floor. I can’t take this. 

I look up and see black finger marks on the wall next to me.I am now in a scene of a horror film. The prints are the markings of the previous person that once lived here, then died of despair! They fall to their knees, not able to take anymore, their hands sliding down the wall..’just take me they say’. In that moment I am the ghost of history’s past. At that moment, this is my mini breakdown.

*

I have to get up, because it’s raining. And as much as there is broken, there is just as much to fix. I go and find the sealant that we used last August. Suddenly I am a ghost buster zapping every bit of water that comes my way. It is a fight between me and the water gods. They are not coming in. I won’t let them crush me.

As well as soot, I am now covered in sealant and everything else that has chosen to stick to it -I’m like ‘tar and feather’. The pigeon boxes (window boxes on the roof) no longer have neat sealed edges but bulges of sealant  on their edges, evidence of where I have been. It has been quite a fight!

A few months later we have another battle with the water gods as the boat continues to slant. Making us realise it was not just the drinks fridge full of Christmas merriment.  It’s not until a neighbour comments on the slant and the risk to the boat sinking if water gets in from the outside that we decide to look under the floorboards again. There we discover we have a rock pool under the bed and a bilge full of water. This time we are prepared and with our waterproofhoover take 13 or more hoover loads out. It seems however much sealant you put on to prevent rain water coming in, water can also build up on the inside by way of condensation, which we battle with over the coming months. 

*

Later that evening we try the fire again. 10 minutes pass. ..11 minutes….12 minutes… 13 minutes. The fire stays alight. With my clean dinner plate, we have cracked it! 

We both have a hot shower, now charged from the battery charger, and in our clean bodies sit by the warm fire that has now heated up the whole boat.

Fire- The Oven

Next come the plans for Christmas day. Given that the width of the boat is not much more than a metre wide, (which means I can touch both sides of the boat at the same time by reaching out my arms), space is limited and there is certainly no space for a dining room table. So with that comes the challenge of finding somewhere to eat our Christmas dinner.  We have decided on a minimalist menu this year. Inspired by Master Chef we are going for a ‘fine dining’ Christmas which we hope will also save on the limited oven space. I come up with the idea of creating a dining room on the deck. The deck has the space but presently no cover or a roof so is open to all the elements. So we work on some designs of what we can do in the limited time we have, to build our ‘deck dining room’.

We stop to make some food. That’s when we discover that the oven is not working properly. Instead of gentle flames that make up an oven, the flames that come out of it are dangerously wild. Too much wishing for a fire? We decide it is not safe to use, but with that comes the realisation that we don’t have an oven. However minimalist our menu, Christmas dinner, without any way of cooking it, wasn’t what we had planned for. This time we both have a melt down.

*

It’s Christmas Eve. I want it to be the day that we spend listening to Christmas songs, and wrapping presents, but instead it is hectic. We still have shopping to do, our extension to build, and we are still without an oven.  Sam goes off to get some wood for our dining room and some plastic sheeting for our temporary glass. She also manages to source some large sheets of acrylic we can use once we decide on a more permanent design.

Aunty Ju has come to the rescue again and kindly donates her halogen oven to us. It is small but surprisingly effective. Christmas is back on! I spend Christmas evening making a trio of puddings- a Pana Cotta, lemon posit and chocolate cheese cake .Sam wraps up presents for our new neighbors, and like little Santa’s we deliver them.

Moving onto the boat from the security of land and the earth that it is made of, has resulted in our coming face to face with the elements: water that showers us from above, leaking through ceilings and walls, and finding its way into in a rock pool below us; the fire god’s visit us, taunting us, first the diesel stove and then the oven, but we beat them. 

Then comes the Wind…

A few days after Christmas and after days of rain. Sam announces that a storm is coming with winds forecast for 100mph  Her name apparently is Storm Bella. Weirdly, this is my favourite name.

We ‘batten down the hatches’, making sure everything is secure on the boat, and wait. Then she comes. We are woken by the noise of what sounds like footsteps running on the roof, the whole boat shakes as Storm Bella takes hold. She is angry and fierce, and the rain makes its way in like drool from her mouth as she rips everything apart. We are tied to a jetty, with rope that creaks with the strain. Nothing is still, so much so we could have been sailing on stormy seas. Had I looked out the window and found us in the middle of the ocean it would not have surprised me.  “Happy new year”  I say to Sam. “You better hold on tight, because here we go again”

The Elements.

Living on a boat brings you closer to the elements, water, fire, air and earth. You are living with them, even on them.  We need these elements to function, but in a house we are more removed somehow. We turn on a tap and there is water. We flush a chain and bare no thought to where the waste goes. It becomes someone else’s problem to deal with. We pay our bills and in return get all we need. Any problems we phone someone. When did we become so far removed?

When you are on a boat you can’t take anything for granted. If you want water you can turn on a tap, but you also have to fill up the water.  We can’t just flush away our waste,we have to deal with it. When one thing  goes wrong it affects everything. 

We are living side by side with the elements and with that brings an appreciation of what it means to live and be alive, but when they come for you, you know it….

“Don’t dismiss the elements. Water soothes and heals. Air refreshes and revives. Earth grounds and holds. Fire is a burning reminder of our own will and creative power. Swallow their spells. There’s a certain sweet comfort in knowing that you belong to them all.”

― Victoria Erickson