Wind and rain, summer 2015.
Cabby was due at Oare Creek to dry dock, but held in London while waiting for the winds to drop to a safe level for her to motor down to Kent.
And held.
Meanwhile the children had been packed away in readiness and we are staying between the Indian YMCA and the Cruising Association. Both are very reasonably priced. You do not have to be Indian, young, a man, Christian or a member of their association to benefit from the Fitzroy Square location with double rooms at £80 per night, inclusive of breakfast and dinner – an absolute bargain – great people and wonderful home cooked food.
And held.
The CA at Limehouse is very different, with the rooms modelled on cabins – small and comfortable with efficient and inventive use of space utilising many of the features you find on a narrow boat. Jeremy, quietly and calmly oversees things, in his charming way, between giving his incredibly well researched lectures on local maritime history at the CA and locations around the area.
And held.
The children returned before the boat had left and any hope of making the last Barge Matches of the season were rapidly fading.
It turned out to be one of the most consistently windy summers on record and not ideal for a costal barge with all her gear lashed down.
We moved to a friend’s house in Ealing and eventually weather, tides and people’s availability all aligned to motor her down to the Swale.
Into September, the decks are stripped back to the wood and the rain starts in earnest. I was not down in Kent enough to realise that the amount of water coming through the decks was damaging the inside. I had naively assumed some sort of covering, but the tarps there were were no match for the amount of rain. Another note for next time…
And rain.
Into October, racing season over and winter around the corner. The list of work is far from complete, yet the money has been long spent.
And rain.
It is time for Cabby to return and, on the nominated day, my son Lyulf and I approach the lock at Limehouse as Cabby appears, speeding with the tide, stem repaired and mast up. She pulls a magnificent, handbrake like, turn arriving exactly on time before impatiently stemming the tide until the lock keepers appear. The road swings back and she glides into the lock without the need for roving fenders.
Lyulf is jumping with excitement and we head round to the pontoon.
Lines looped over cleats. Beer tins fizz open and hand rolled cigarettes are lit as we climb aboard.
Below is a nightmare of mess and mould. Lyulf is in tears. Everything is suffering the effects of water from above and the family are staying aboard that evening.
For the second time in two years (the last time being when the marina moved us and left the systems powered down while we were away) the task of clearing out most material goods, clothes, books and children’s toys forms the start of a daunting clean up.
The lighting, any box, the cooker, everything was full of water, although, ironically, not the taps as the pumps had failed. In an effort to kick one when down, the coffee machine then exploded.
At least the sun is shining!
On and on it went into November and then December.
By the time we left for India at Christmas most of the work was done.
In fairness to Tim Goldsack, his team did an excellent job. The work on the stem and the decks is top quality. It is unfortunate that a combination of my naivety – I had assumed a false sense of security in the term dry dock – and the most unlucky weather imaginable had conspired against us.
I’d recommend his work in a shot and plan to go back when funds allow – the next job being getting the sails back up.
India was an adventure and, in the excitement, the children failed to notice that the trip meant missing the opening of Star Wars and a traditional Christmas.
In January they saw Star Wars in Greenwich. Work dominates and doesn’t seem to pay enough. Easter passes. The Medway match passes and it is June (well it currently will be in 10 minutes).
Much tinkering has happened on board and, having come to terms that we will only be out under motor this year, a season of painting – the final part of the clear up below decks and the much needed wood and windlasses on deck.
Now I have come out of hibernation, there is also the need to look at how best to maintain this most beautiful of barges. An approach and business plan following this enforced delay. Much advice to seek and people to speak to.
It should be fun if one keeps perspective. She is a wooden barge. It is going to heartache, frustration and much work. It will be worth it.
In the meantime, a few Tower Bridge lifts will keep the spirits up.
Sailing Barge Cabby 