All Fools Day — and how appropriate!

The day started with torrential rain which had me soaked to the skin long before I had hooked the trailer on and set off for the launch at Evesham.

The rain gradually eased up as we rigged the boat, and when we launched at 1115 it had stopped and the skies were showing odd patches of blue. As there was not any wind, we paddled across to the town lock and went up to the Offenham reach. This was the first time any of us had been in a lock in our own boat, and the children were very excited. Once through, we carried on paddling the 100 yards or so to Avon Marine to rendezvous with the only other boat attending — Dennis Bourne and crew Gordon Hobson in the Y.W. Day Boat Windhover.

We cast off at 1300, and by then a gentle breeze had come in from the SW which gave us a nice run up the river. About ¼ mile from the start is a railway bridge, and both boats were careened to pass through easily and avoid lowering the masts. We reached The Bridge Inn at Offenham at 1330 and pulled in for liquid refreshment.

At 1400 we were off again, and made steady progress through well-wooded steep banks towards The Fish and Anchor causeway and the first lock. As we drew nearer the lock, the river shallowed and the current increased, becoming quite fierce in the shallowest parts. Fortunately, as we reached the fastest flowing parts, the wind increased and helped us to reach the lock landing stage without trouble.

Although the lock operated quite easily, one of our home made windlasses snapped and Gordon was lucky not to break his wrist. The lock surrounds were deep and sticky clay, and by the time we were out of the lock, feet and boats were well coated. After lowering our masts, we paddled under the new footbridge across the lock cut. Once through, we stopped again to get the sticks back up and hoist sail — then off again.

Past the big caravan site on the high bank to starboard, we swung to port past the end of the disused millstream and into the second lock of the pair. We were joined in the lock by a cabin cruiser, and the crew from this gave us a worrying moment or two by opening the paddles much too quickly causing our boats to bounce against the walls. However, as soon as the gates were open they roared off at high speed and left us in peace. Just another example of the selfish and ignorant marine motorist.

We were now in a densely wooded backwater, and completely sheltered from the wind. As we had to cross the top of a big and fast flowing weir, I decided to play safe and got the oars out. The banks here were a complete mixture, with a few beautiful houses and gardens, and close by the banks were dotted with disgusting heaps of rubbish. Will we never learn? The fields on both banks were quite flat and sparsely wooded, whilst in the background on the starboard hand was the beautiful, heavily wooded escarpment which forms the natural valley of the area.

It was now 1745, getting quite cool, and, as the children were clamouring for tea, I started looking for a suitable place to moor up for the night. A short distance further on we found a quiet backwater amongst the shallows on the starboard side, and we ran in and went aground close to the bank, to be joined a short while later by Windhover.

We soon had the cover up, tea brewed, and a substantial meal under way. After we had eaten our fill and cleared away, the kids played snap whilst Doreen and I relaxed with a cuppa and listened to the merry sound of hammer and saw from Windhover as Dennis and Gordon carved a new boom crutch from a baulk of oak — well, that’s what it sounded like!

After a good night’s sleep, I was up at 0645 to brew up. After we had washed and breakfasted we tidied up and stowed everything for the return trip.

During the night the wind had risen, and was now blowing strongly and dead on the nose. I did not relish a day spent short tacking, but anyway it was not to be! The river here was too shallow to get the plate down, and each attempt to get under way ended with us ignominiously aground on the other side of the river.

Dennis had wisely decided to motor back, as both he and Gordon had deadlines to meet, and we gratefully accepted his offer of a tow. We reached the first lock quite quickly, and apart from rather stupidly losing my boathook, we went through very smoothly. Once out of the lock the tow was resumed, but as we rounded the next bend we were amazed to find the river completely blocked by a windbound 70ft. hulk which had broken its moorings. My boat was moored, and the three of us went off in Windhover to try and clear the way.

Our first attempt was to push it back to its correct position, but as this was against the wind, we failed from lack of power. We found it fairly easy to push it the other way and we swung it hard into the bank and wedged it on another sunken hulk.

We returned to my boat, picked up the tow again, and pressed on to the footbridge over the lock cut. After lowering our masts again, the boats were lashed together side by side, and we motored gently under the bridge and into the lock. By now, of course, we were experts at this lock game. The top gates were shut and the down stream paddles raised. The lock emptied. We then made a very interesting discovery: the bottom gates were stuck fast! It took about 45 minutes of hard work and concerted effort to escape from this ingenious trap, and at one time I think the children thought we were there for ever.

With great relief we emerged, and lost no time in resuming our journey. We reached Evesham at 1430 without further incident.

By general agreement, a very enjoyable weekend.