Now I am not, nor ever will be a 'Boater'. Boaters are people who lavish money and affection on their craft, usually preferring a slow, relaxing, lifestyle of money and luxury. Their aim being to cruise the rivers and canals from one pub to the next, in a modicum of comfort. Their search for exquisite quisine, and fine wines interspersed by basking in the adulation of onlookers, as they sleep it off in their 'pride and joy'.

Ok, this analogy may be a little harsh, although I hope it brings a smile. Most are just ordinary people, working hard to earn a crust and get by, but they usually enjoy the slow lane. A better word to describe me in my younger days would be a 'petrolhead', although that term must be loosely applied. Petrolheads are only happy when around their current creation, be it driving or working on it. I, on the other hand only liked driving cars.....looks and breakdowns come a very considerable way down my list of 'daily endeavors'.

However, passing years, and a forcibly changed lifestyle, due to a lower back injury, caused I hasten to add by 30 years of work, not play or accident, has changed my views somewhat. I am now just as content to go for a walk as drive, and speed no longer holds the fascination it once did.

After Christmas last year, while walking with Barney on our winter strolls along the riverbank, I though about getting a little boat. I had received a small windfall, which would pay for it, and I needed to do something while I was still able to. As we walked around the Brayford, the marina in Lincoln I was thinking about all the problems I would face, and how I could overcome these difficulties. My original idea was to buy a cheap old boat, that I could just take downriver, and moor up, letting Barney onto the banks, where he is allowed. I certainly didn't want to 'buy more work'; my present workload is sufficient, thank you very much. I can rest on a boat as easily as on the settee in my house, and lock gates appeared to be the obvious difficulty, especially if I decided to travel somewhere. But the purpose was to be on the river, and out of town, not travel the country, although I did think that might be possible as well. Having no need to be somewhere, at a given time, I could wait for someone to help as long as I had provisions.

The first thing was to find a boat of course. I asked a few locals that I saw with boats, but in the winter they are few and far between. I found lots of information on the Internet, quickly realizing I may have to travel to find the right boat. I asked my friend at the garage if I could store one there for a small sum, to do any work it required, and somewhere to keep it until I could organize the moorings and license etc. I found there is a local boat club, and went along and joined. As well as a good place to get advice, I can walk down and afford a beer, which they sell cheaply. So I can now go for a sociable night out once a week if I feel like it.

There is no denying boating is expensive, and I knew from the start I would only be able to afford it for a year or two. You have to have a river license, or river and canal if you are going to travel on them. Also you need insurance and a place for permanent mooring. I found British Waterways moorings at a lock in the countryside 10 miles away. This is one of their cheapest, and has proved to be the perfect place for me.

An Internet search found what could be a suitable boat. I rang and set out to go the 90 odd miles to look at it. Just before I left, I heard of a boatyard on route, which probably would have something suitable. Being only 45 miles away I was hoping they would. Their large selection of boats offered some affordable ones, but as I've found out, as with most things, boats, like all goods are usually cheap for a reason. I bought a cheap, tidy and sturdy little river cruiser from them. After several trips to their yard, I had got the required BOAT SAFETY CERTIFICATE, and paid for the 'NAIAD'. I hired a truck to tow it home, and an uneventful trip saw it resting on its little trailer at the garage as planned.

For the next few weeks I went almost daily, doing some small jobs, like making cabin door locks etc. and cleaning the whole boat. Through the club I found where to apply for insurance, moorings and license, and about six weeks later I was ready at last to launch.

Someone told me of a slipway they thought I could use only, and as it was only 3 1/2 miles downstream from my moorings, it seemed perfect. Having already spent more than I intended I did not want to hire the truck again for the short journey. I had tested the small outboard engine in a tub of water, and it appeared to run perfectly; other people, among them builders of racing engines, also said so. The garage owner reluctantly agreed to tow it to the slipway for me. He was very short of time, as he was preparing his racing car and the season was due to start. However after an aborted attempt, due to the boat requiring to be moved on the trailer, we left the garage in the early evening a few days later. My advice to travel slowly on smooth roads was ignored, but it proved it was a tough boat, adding to my confidence in it.

The boat was backed down the slipway, and after a slight struggle, finally floated free of the trailer. There were no apparent leaks, and as dusk was approaching, I set off to the mooring after a little practice run. Everything went smoothly for about 1/4 of an hour, until the engine started rattling. No it wasn't my ears playing tricks; it got worse and soon stopped. I had my mobile phone, but in the rush and excitement, had not had time to take my bags with torches etc. from the car. Several phone calls saw my friends finally come to the rescue. I tried the engine and found it started again, and would run for a little while. This did nothing to improve anyone's temper, particularly the one of my garage owner friend. Nor did it help my fraying nerves, as Barney found out. He was quickly getting used to my shouting on the boat I think.

Anyway, 3 1/2 hours and several stops later, I arrived at the moorings. My first trip had been on an unknown river, in the dark with no equipment, and on a boat that kept breaking down. I had nettled my hands while trying to get up theriverbank. Having spent much of my spare time for several years, at a friends house next to the road bridge, I had forgotten this had been modified and strengthen, no longer affording access to the supporting pillars. Also while there, I had only walked along the bank with our dogs to the end of the sugar beet factory on the other side, and had forgotten the river takes a sharp bend. On approaching this in the dark, with the factory lights in front, it was far from apparent, and I spent a few tense moments staring into the dark, hoping I did not take a wrong fork and end up in some unknown hazard. I have been told boating is a relaxing way to spend your time. So far it had been one of the most stressful things I have ever done, and that includes Stock Car & Banger Racing of course.

I returned the next morning with a neighbour, to help with the lock. We had left the Naiad the previous night on the temporary moorings for the boats waiting to go through. It was too late, and too dark to learn the intricacies of this mediaeval equipment. While looking at the moorings while readying my boat, I had already had a 'dummy run' so knew what to do; however, taking the boat through for the first time was still a little daunting. Walking round the local lock almost daily for 30 years was no help either. I suppose it is like driving. People still have to learn, even if they have been a passenger for many years.

Thankfully the engine worked long enough to get me the few yards upriver to my proper moorings. I thanked my friend and neighbour profusely as we came home, then set about the next job; I had to find a replacement engine. A few phone calls, and an Internet search only resulted in adding to my depression, as it seemed no small suitable outboards were available. However I remembered talking to a local man, who had one and he 'rescued' me by selling it to me. So the next few days were spent changing the engines. I had been pushing myself to get the work done, and launch the boat. This additional work was very unwelcome, however I persuaded people to help me do the lifting, and finally got it fitted and working.

The first trips - The next few weeks.

I managed to persuade a few friends to come and have a little trip. Finding 'slaves' to work the lock wasn't proving too difficult after all. The main objective of getting a boat was to have somewhere to go outside of Lincoln, so I did not want to do all my boating coming back here. I have spent the last 10 years walking along this riverbank; I just wanted a new part. When people could come, it was often in the evenings, when they had finished working. With river and canal boating, you only travel at little more than walking pace, so we did not go far, but it was still usually dark when we got back. Barney learnt an important lesson on one of these trips...don't try to get on an unsecured boat.

My friends were closing the gates at the lock, as I arrived at the mooring. As I held the boat with the boat hook onto the walkway, Barney got off; however, for some reason he tried to get back onto the front. It was the classic case of pushing the boat out, with the inevitable consequence of him falling in. I was a little worried of him getting tangled up in a rope, as he swam along under the bows of the other boats, however after quickly tying the boat up, I went along the bank and managed to get him out. Luckily a small dinghy was in the water next to the keyside, otherwise he would have had to swim to where the water is higher. I made sure Barney could swim when I got him, but despite being quite a strong swimmer, he doesn't like it at all.

Despite these little trips, I spent much of the time on the boat on its moorings. Probably the biggest bonus of the boat is the moorings at the Lock could hardly be more suitable for my purpose. The house had recently become vacant, and the fenced keyside is a perfect 'garden' for Barney. I have even rescued an old lawnmower from the shed; all it needed was a new belt, and I soon had the grass along my part of the bank as good as any lawn. Having an electric hook up is another added bonus I had not thought of. Cups of tea are almost mandatory for me now, and I had removed the cooker to get the safety certificate. I was intending to have a simple and easy life with the boat, and cooking meals was not on the agenda. If necessary I was going to get a little portable gas stove, to boil a kettle, and probably heat a tin of beans, but all I needed was to get a kettle.

On one of our evening trips, a friend had remarked on the good condition of the little cabin. Although I had noticed it was clean, I hadn't give it a lot of thought, only now realizing just how rough the inside of many of these small old boats have become. While searching for another outboard, I had come across an almost new one. My friend's comments convinced me my little boat required this engine, so I spent what was for me, another small fortune and doubled the cost of the boat and bought it. This of course required more work for yet another engine change. I had now spent all my extra money, but I had unleashed the full potential of the boat; or so I thought. I had also been overdoing it for weeks, which was taking its toll. I had to be careful, and take it easy for a while, otherwise the boat would have to do without its captain; I would be almost housebound again.

Finally - the boat is ready to use.

The boating season was now more than halfway through, but I finally had my boat ready. I had spent all my 'extra' money, so any prior thoughts of traveling the inland waterways would have to wait. Initially, I thought I may be able to travel a few days a week, using public transport to either come home, or go back to the car, which I could leave in one of BWs car parks. I could not afford to spend my dwindling savings, nor overdo it by cruising on my own. It is difficult to just stop on a boat, other than on the proper moorings, so most people continue to the next. BW moorings are plentiful on this river, but it does mean you have to keep going. This can be a little taxing if you need to rest, especially as I now have trouble sitting or standing for any length of time. Another crewmember would solve this problem completely, but Barney is my crew, and good though he is, I don't think I can trust him to drive the boat. Boating is a slow and leisurely pastime, so a 20-mile trip at say 5-mph is approximately equivalent to 160 miles on the road, if not more. Although restful and pleasant on a nice sunny day, it can also be a little boring if you are alone, and have no one to talk to.

I have enjoyed spending the summer days at the moorings, and usually found someone to chat to, either a passing boater going through the lock, or others who have come to their boats on the moorings. I also enjoyed the solitude when I found myself alone. It was nice to have the place to myself, and Barney could freely wander about in safety.

At the August bank holiday I finally got to sleep on the boat. I had a cruise to Boston with the Lincoln Boat Club. Although I have been to Boston many many times over the years, I had never actually been to the marina. My parents only lived 22 miles away, and in my 20s the nightclub (still in existence) was on the list of tours. I now realize I was lucky to have seen many of the classic groups and artists in that small town. Marc Bolan and Jimmy Hendricks to name but 2. The marina is on the edge of town, but a pleasant half-mile stroll along the riverbank will find you in the town centre.

While we were there the Endeavour, the replica of Captain Cooks' ship was moored in the Docks. After spending a pleasant evening in the pub, followed by a restful night, we walked along the next morning. I was not intending to go aboard, as I felt the £12 a head fee a little too much, however I did want to take a picture of Barney with the ship in the background. I was a little disappointed to find no dogs were allowed on the docks, however I quickly agreed when I realized this was to prevent any rabies threat, posed by rats, or other animals being on ships from foreign parts. After viewing the ship without going close up, we returned to prepare for the cruise back. We were only coming half way, to stay at moorings alongside another riverside pub. A planned meal was followed by another pleasant couple of hours in the pub.

As well as the regular trips downriver, and a few short ones towards Lincoln, I have also been here 3 times. The first time I planned to come, I had some friends meet me, however when we got to the Stamp End lock in Lincoln, they said we must turn around, as they did not have enough time. So I reluctantly turned round and headed back, dropping them off at the moorings a couple of miles downstream, where I had collected them. I worked in the riverside factory just along from this lock, and I have often wished someone I knew would have come along on a boat, and 'rescue' me as I walked with leaden feet after visiting the high street on my lunchtime break, on a nice sunny day. Getting a boat was to fulfill this particular dream in one small way. Was I ever to get to cruise past the factory entrance?

A few weeks later, while down on my boat a couple of young women came along in a canoe. I had seen them before the weekend, when we had helped them through the lock. They were having a camping weekend at the pub across the river from the slipway. As I said hello, I asked if they wanted a lift back to Lincoln. Not fancying to row 10 miles against the wind they readily agreed, and I had found some 'slaves' to lock me through Stamp End. This was to be one of the most pleasant trips I had done so far. It was a lovely sunny day, and we took the canopy down to enjoy the weather. As I lazed relaxing in the sun, with the good looking young woman, competently driving the boat, I mentioned that, while I often moan about my lot, there would not be many men in the world who wouldn't have swapped places with me at that particular moment.

On reaching Lincoln we unloaded their canoe, which they carried around the lock. Another boat was coming through so I said goodbye to the girls, and put my boat in the lock while the gates were open. The boaters just going through kindly shut them for me. I had also previously had a look at the simple controls to work the guillotine gate, if only all gates were worked electrically I could manage them all. So I finally got to realize another small dream, as I cruised into Lincoln. Passing through the town centre was very similar to walking alongside, however I passed under the 'Gloryhole', the nickname to High Bridge, the old bridge in the high street for the first time.

After mooring with the other visitors in the Brayford, I walked home with Barney. As often is the case, it is the unplanned trips that are often the most enjoyable. However I need to come home for a drink, and something to eat, not planning to spend all day away. Nowadays I rarely have to keep to a timetable, but I did have a neighbourhood community meeting to go to that evening, which I wanted to attend, as the local MP was to be there. At home I realized I would not have enough time to go back to Bardney and get back, so I cycled back with Barney to the boat. Leaving Lincoln I asked, and was given help at the lock by a friendly passerby. I left the boat at the moorings, just 2 miles downsteam, cycling back along the proper cycle track, which is one of our regular walks.

I had not ridden a bike for some time, the last time finding it affected me quite badly, so this would be a good test of my fitness. I returned home, and went to the meeting in plenty of time. The next day, I was not too stiff, nor did I suffer too much with my lower back, my coccyx seeming to stand sitting on the bike seat the previous day. So I walked back to the boat, which had not been vandalized, or stolen, and had another slow, relaxing short trip back to my moorings.

I have been to the boat for several days most weeks, and, not counting the short trips, have had one trip to Boston and three to Lincoln. Late July or early August, the weather was terrible one weekend, which I spent under an umbrella, talking to the numerous passing boaters. Many were on their annual holidays, so had no choice. I did not get out of working on the new engine, as a small problem has cropped up. I have done some work to repair it, but still have to do the job again, as the problem is still there. It does not stop it from being used though. I have also made most of the money I need for license etc. by buying and selling another small cruiser that was moored at the lock. So I can at least keep the boat there until April 2004. Some of my little trips have their own stories, as does the buying and selling of the boat. I may get around to writing about them soon.