As mentioned, some of the trips or events, have stories worth telling in a little more detail.

Like the time Barney fell into the lock. But before I do I think a little description of the layout of the rivers at the lock will help picture the scene. Coming from Boston, the Witham takes a sharp right turn under an old railway bridge. It appears to go straight on, but this is an un-navigable dyke, Sincil Drain. Under the bridge it forks again, with the lock being to the left. The Old Witham is just a semi-circle of river, joining the Witham at a sluice less than half a mile upstream. A little like straightening the bend in a road I suppose. Half way round this bend, a right turn takes you to a pub, the Tyrwhitt Arms. This is as far as boats can go along here, less than a quarter of a mile. So, a good visitor's trip on my boat is through the lock, turn left, turn right under the bailey bridge, and call at the pub, the Tyrwhitt Arms.

Anyway, Barney's second swim. I spent most Saturdays at the boat last summer, usually in the company of our new friend on the neighbouring boat. The weather being particularly good one weekend I returned on the Sunday. Walking past the lock I saw a boat about to enter. It had stayed overnight, and was about to continue it's journey. One of the main reasons I go to the boat is to find people to have a chat to, and to socialize. Going through a lock is always a good time to meet people, as it occupies the short wait while the lock fills or empties. I also try to be helpful, and usually find this friendship returned. Last year the river had more than the usual weed growth and I had learned from talking to some fishermen and boaters, this was most likely due to the wet spring washing fertilizer from farmland, and warm weather. The weed was now causing problems for most boats, as it fouled props, and blocked filters. This morning, the people were towing the boat into the lock without the engine, as the weed was particularly thick at the entrance.

I had walked round to the narrow part of the lock next to the swing bridge, mooring the stern of their boat for them. Barney, trying to be clever I suppose copied me after I had returned to the other side to open the paddle on the lock gate to let the water out. I can operate the paddles, which gives me much needed exercise, but pushing the gates open and closed has proved a little too much, as I first suspected. I had no sooner reached the handle when I heard a splash, and looked into the lock to see Barney swimming about. He had slipped on the narrow ledge. Luckily the lock was full, so he did not have too far to fall, also with the help of the chap on the boat it was a simple job to reach down and pull him out, after he swam across to us when I called him.

That is the second time he has fallen in, but so far the last. There was nearly another, which has provided one of the funniest sights of my life...all will be revealed later.

One of my problems is finding 'crew'. I have been known to say 'no one seems to want a free trip on a boat' however, looking back this is not strictly true. There were two young friends who came several times in the evening, especially when I first got the boat. And there is my good friend John, who you will hear more of later, as he has been the source of frustration and amusement....all part of life. There were 3 young lads who had cycled to the lock from a nearby village who came for a little trip one sunny day, returning the next for another. And another two youths, one who was a neighbour and have spent time here with Barney. There were the two girls with the canoe. Twice I met a woman dog walking and they have both joined me for a short trip on separate occasions. I have also met several people, either visiting boaters, or visitors to the lock who have been aboard, and sometimes we have gone a short way up the river. Only just before Christmas I took another friend, his wife and two kids for a ride downstream to the pub on Sunday lunchtime. So, all in all, 20 to 30 people have been aboard and cruising, plus several dogs.

My friend John, who has recently retired is a little nervous of boats, however after an afternoon on one on the Norfolk Broads in October 2001 (see the Norfolk Holiday on Barney's pages) he summoned the courage to come with me. On one of our first evening trips to the Tyrwhitt, I returned to find my two other young friends had just arrived, on the off chance I was there. This lock business wasn't too difficult after all, as slaves usually appeared just when needed them . Boating, and rivers and locks do have their own fascination of course. John stayed on the boat with Barney in the lock while I got off to help, and show them what to do. With the water rising, the bow got stuck in a crack in the sidewall. John did not push it off, thinking the others would I suppose, however my other friend did, but I joked with John afterwards how I had only just got the boat and he was trying to sink it.

In Norfolk he said he had visions of us going home wet through after falling in, and I think this has been a secret ambition of his. He fulfilled it in a small way a few weeks later, on another trip to the Tyrwhitt. A fellow boater was going, and after taking a little trip upstream first, we were to join him. He had been told to turn right under the Bailey bridge, otherwise he might run aground at the sluice, as there is a shallow concrete step just under the water when it is at normal level. Well he must have misunderstood his instruction, because we had only been gone for a little while when he rang my mobile to say he had done exactly that. We turned round and found him stranded. I quickly pulled him off, so we arrived at the pub together. There are no proper moorings here now, just some posts on top of the grass bank. There was enough depth for me to moor sideways, and I had got off and attached one rope. I was a little worried the other chap, who although retired was new to boating, and was looking likely to crash into the back of my boat. I was hurrying to get moored so I could help him and, having tied one end, was holding the rope for the other to let John get off. He stepped off, and I was holding my boat securely, but he dithered on the bank, until his foot slipped off the sloping wet grass. He went in with a satisfying splooosh, up to his calves, scrambling out and nettled his hands. I couldn't help laughing....sorry John. I helped our other friend tie up, while John went up the steps in the bank to find a seat to empty his boots. I have recently learnt this is known as the rubber duck award in some boating circles....so congratulations John, you are the first one of us to have won this award.

Another friend almost had a ducking at the same place only a few weeks before Christmas. We had gone to the pub for a meal, and had gone on the boat, as the road was closed due to roadworks. I was mooring up nose to the bank, and had left the engine ticking over in forward to keep the boat into the bank while I got off. I secured the rope, and my friend then tried to get off. It can be awkward getting off a small boat from under the canopy, and he caught the outboard lever, revving the engine. It was of course still in forward, and I had turned it slightly to keep the boat straight in the light current. The boat swung round a little, almost tipping him into the river. I asked what he was playing at.....having fun at his near mishap, as he is an experienced boater.

The next adventure with John could have been more serious. We were going to one of the 2 pubs downstream where the slipway is. I let him drive, as I know he enjoys it, and it helps his confidence. After driving on the road, you can have a bit of fun on a boat because the speed is so slow, only up to six miles an hour on this river, which is almost as fast as my little boat goes. I usually dawdle along at about four or five as this is nice and relaxing and the engine will push us along at little over tickover. Boats pass each other on the right, not the side we drive on the road, but with little traffic and an empty, wide river you can go where you like, as long as there is enough depth. John had strayed out of the centre channel into some weed, which had wrapped itself around the prop. With an outboard this is little problem, as you just stop and tilt the engine out of the water. Putting a foot on the steering bracket almost counterbalances the engine, making it easy to tilt.....something I found out after tilting it up and down, hurting myself once or twice soon after I got it. I lifted it and removed the weed, and asked John if he would mind lowering it for me. I showed him what to do, but when the engine was half way down he let go of it. Luckily it is a Norman, a strong boat, otherwise it would have broken the transom and sunk the boat. He said he thought it was going to pull him into the water.....so that was the second time he had tried to sink it, dare I risk letting him try for a third time?

How to finance next years costs.

Towards the end of the year, it became evident I would have to earn some boating money if I wanted to keep it for another year. I had hoped some of my friends would want to use the boat occasionally, and tip me for my generosity. Apparently no one wanted to do this, however there was a rather neglected boat at the end of the moorings. I inquired of the owner, asking for my details to be passed on to him. It belonged to a local man, who had been going to do it up, but as often happens circumstances had intervened to prevent this. He had bought it for almost double what I paid for my boat, but when I pointed out he would lose more than it was worth by paying the mooring for another couple of years, he agreed to sell it to me very cheaply. I needed to move it up the moorings to clean it, and the engine started and ran very well, although there was a small problem with vibration from the prop, when it was in gear. The engine was similar to the one I had paid £1600 earlier in the year. After washing the grime off the outside of the boat with my pressure washer, it was arguably a better boat than mine. The next day John came and helped me clean the inside, and both these days in the sunshine made this 'work' a pleasure.

I had originally thought I might make a small profit to go towards my moorings/license/insurance but now, this £3000? Boat was a real bargain at £1000. I told everyone I met about it, and hoped it would sell quickly. Well it didn't. People who wanted it didn't have the money, and the people with the money wanted a better boat. I decided I would have to take it to the boatyard I got mine from. If it didn't sell straight away it would the next spring. Asking at the club I was told no one had a suitable trailer to lend me, something I've now found by the way. As the weeks passed, and the license was due I had to make more of an effort, to move it.

After several weeks of being unable to get help, good weather and a hire truck on the same day, I managed to get all 3 one weekend. I got to the lock on the Saturday, only to find the river in flood and a foot above the lock gates, making it impossible to open them. Was fate ever going to let me move it? However the next day I returned to find the river level had dropped and I could take the boat to the slipway. In the end I had to admit defeat however, as my trailer was unsuitable. Not only was it too small, something I thought I may be able to overcome by traveling slowly and carefully, the boat had a flat bottom, and the trailer supported a keel. So I pulled the boat onto the bank out of the floodwater and left it there. A couple of days later I went to the boatyard to find a way of moving it. I saw the man who transports boats for a living, and agreed a price, although he could not do it for nearly 2 weeks. While talking to him I sold it to someone else, who later pulled out of the sale. I eventually sold it to a local man for quite a small price...fate had not been kind to me, putting all these obstacles in the way, but I had more than doubled my money, and had made most of the money needed to keep mine for another year. I had also had a lot of fun cleaning, moving it etc. which is of course what having a boat is all about.

It was during this moving of the Microplus that Barney nearly had another swim. After leaving the boat on the riverbank, I had to refloat it and move it to the slipway, ready for collection. I took my boat down, thinking I might need it to pull the Microplus back into the river. This was indeed the case, however I had to enlist the help of a JCB that was doing roadwork's first. Without this help I doubt we could have got the boat back into the river. On leaving the lock, I had moored briefly to get the bags from the car. If you see from the photos, the keyside is very high just here, unless the river is in flood. I had climbed up and got the bags ready to put on the boat. I shut Barney in the cabin to keep him safe, but had put a bag inside, and climbed back to get the others, telling Barney to stay on board. Some people walked past delaying me slightly, and although only a moment later I looked down to see Barney making his way past the cabin on the narrow ledge, trying I suppose to find a place to get off. I told him to get back on, which he did. However he tried to turn round on the narrow part, and his back legs slipped off. I yelled at him to hang on, and not fall in. It was cold, and I did not have anything to dry him. Luckily he must have got a back foot on the vertical ladder under the water, but he was left hanging by his 'fingernails' to the side of the boat. I scrambled down and got hold of him in time, and helped him back on board, but was laughing so much I nearly dropped him. To see him clinging to the side was probably the funniest boating incident I have ever seen....Oh for someone to have had a camera.

The first of the incidents when coming to Lincoln.

As a way of thanking John for his help with the cleaning, I said I would give him a trip to Lincoln, so we met at the lock the following day. He drove the boat most of the way to Lincoln, allowing me to tidy up, and make it respectable. He even managed to moor at the moorings, 2 miles from Lincoln. We arrived at Lincoln and locked through Stamp End without any problems. I moored under a willow tree in the centre of Lincoln (see photo) and we crossed the bridge to have a cup of tea outside the café. This fulfilled one of my 'ambitions' with the boat, as it had been a boat moored here a few years earlier that had made me think of getting one. John was nervous of passing under High Bridge (The Glory Hole) so he walked along the path, meeting me in the Brayford Pool. We journeyed upstream passed the residential moorings, before turning round and coming back. In the Brayford I made John drive...well he had driven the boat to the moorings only a little earlier in the day. After reluctantly taking the wheel, he carried on, driving it through the Glory Hole, and enjoying it, especially taking it through the centre of Lincoln.

Near to Stamp End I moored on the riverbank, actually a canal here. I went to the local fish and chip shop, and found we were a little early, so returned with the idea of taking the boat through the lock, and stopping again. By this time the chip shop would be open. Stamp End lock has a guillotine gate at one end that is electrically operated. You need a British Waterways key to open the box that houses the buttons. I got off and opened the gate. I asked John to take the boat in, as I was starting to suffer from climbing on and off...I needed a rest. He whined he couldn't...too frightened or something. Well I'm sad to say I get a bit irritable when I'm in discomfort, and I lost my temper a little. Grabbing the front rope I pushed the boat in myself. Boats move very easily, they can easily be blown about by even a gentle wind. In the lock I tied the boat loosely to the keyside. I closed the gate using my key, and John got off to do the hard, manually operated gates at the lower end. I was still grumbling a bit once back on board. As I passed him going out of the lock, he spit the dummy...throwing his hands up, he said he was going home on the bus. Now unlike most people, I usually do what I say I will, so sometimes make others do the same.

On getting through the lock I just kept going. I was in a bit of a temper, and going too fast, and did not notice a fisherman, who yelled at me to slow down, throwing a handful of maggots ... bl***dy h*ll. I calmed down a little, but kept going. WHY have my days always to be spoiled.

However there is a happy ending. Both John and myself do not hold grudges, and almost as soon as words are spoken, they are forgotten. I knew he had money, and his hobby is riding trains and buses, so I was not unduly surprised to see John when I got back to the moorings at Bardney. I still told him what I was telling him at Lincoln; no you don't get off that easily, but friends are what it is all about, not falling out over trivial things. As he is so nervous on boats, we have now agreed he does his boating from dry land, only meeting me at the stopping off points. There are some navigable drains towards Boston, and one goes fairly near to his house, so I hope to visit him by boat next year.