Drama on the river

We were excited to be going out, out today. A boat trip, no less! All planned and arranged with Dave and Chris, George and Sue.

To be sure that John would be well enough to go on this ‘jolly’, having cancelled the two previous, I had hollered at him the other day to discourage him from doing any work. It did the trick. He was better and raring to go, so we were up and at ’em early.

Equally early, were Dave and Chris. Only they weren’t up and at ’em at all. Dave was feeling unwell and we had a phone call from Chris: “Sorry, but we’re going to have to cancel.” A boat trip with an ear infection didn’t match. Dave was already feeling dizzy and he didn’t need to add to it with any boat-swaying.

Disappointed not to have their company, the rest of us soldiered on. George was as keen as mustard to get going once we arrived, and he didn’t particularly appreciate the instructions being detailed to him of how the kettle/toilet/fridge worked. ‘Just give me the keys,’ he was thinking – but you’d never know as he smiled pleasantly at the boat owner holding forth.

We were soon under way, however, and admiring the scenery. We couldn’t resist a pic of the view in front of us to send to Dave and Chris, with a ‘Wish you were here’ sticker…..

Our plan, which was actually executed, was to go through three locks down the Avon and stop at a pub on its banks at Offenham, then the return journey. But it took a little longer than expected…..

At Lock Number One, I leapt out of the boat to wield the windlass (or lock handle, to mere mortals like you and me) to open the lock gates. Job done, George steered the narrow boat in as I waited on the side. A pleasure boat followed him in. Young people ran around to grab the ropes that the older people on that boat were throwing up to them. Or not. The senior lady of the party, threw and missed. Instead of letting the rope go, she grabbed the side of the lock to try and pass it up to the young man. The boat floated further from the lock side. The lady’s grip on the side weakened. Her daughter tried to grab her legs to stop her falling into the river………aaaahhhh…….noooo……and in she went.

There ensued a great kerfuffle. The lady popped up to the surface of the water and clung on to the side of the boat. The skipper manoeuvred the boat nearer the wall. George hung onto the boat, for fear of the lady being trapped. The skipper yelled at him to let go. People on the side of the river bank were shouting a variety of instructions, including me, “Throw her the lifebuoy!! Throw in the lifebuoy!!”

A stout woman strode through the assembled group of harassed onlookers and well-wishers and took charge. She calmly guided the boat so that the lady could grab onto the steps and climb up – but not before she had looked the crew firmly in the eye and said, “Life jackets?” of which there none. The crew of the pleasure boat had the grace to look a bit sheepish.

We continued on our way, Sue and me sipping a little glass of Prosecco and sunning ourselves on the deck. And we navigated Locks Two and Three very well with no more people falling into the river. Oh, what bliss.

We had brought a picnic but, faced with a delicious selection of food at the pub, we decided to buy our lunch instead. It was lush. We sat out in the sunshine and were served by a very nice young man. We probably sat out a bit too long in the sun (my fault, I was enjoying it very much) because John had a bit of fainting feeling as he got up to get back on the boat. Oh, dear, my nerves are so shredded. I had visions of him falling into the river next…… (he didn’t).

Ok. Time to go back – and off we go. First stop: Lock Number Three. George got out of the boat to help with the winding of the sluice gates. As we walked back, his foot fell foul of the edge of a concrete block and ‘crack’……… George fell to the ground and rolled over in great pain. “I think I’ve broken my ankle,” he said, immediately.

He hobbled, well, hopped actually, back to the boat. He’d clearly done something nasty. We wrapped his ankle up as best we could to keep some pressure on the ankle and stabilise it, and fed him co-codamol. “I’m fine,” he lied. “Honestly, I’m fine,” he lied again.

He wasn’t fine at all, but he was determined to keep going. So he sat, with his foot dingle-dangling down and steered on. Here are a couple of troupers…..

George steered on…..until…….well, we were about half an hour away from the boatyard, just blithely passing a caravan park, when all of a sudden, there was a crunching of stones. Then a grinding of the engine. Then a graunching on the bottom of the boat. Erm…… we didn’t appear to be going forward any more. Nor could we go backwards. We were grounded and stuck fast. Oh, blimey.

We got the pole out to try and push us off……

Well, we couldn’t do it – but a very nice man from the crowd-that-had-gathered to-be-astonished-at-our-plight, could….. he took his shoes and socks off and waded out to us, grabbed the pole and levered us off the stones.

We were only an hour late back to the boatyard.

George refused to go to the hospital, stating that ‘he’d see how he was in the morning’. Hmmm…. fingers crossed that the ice pack does the trick and eases the swelling.

Despite the high drama on the water today and a maybe-broken ankle, we’ve all enjoyed ourselves. It was good to get out in the fresh air and see some lovely scenery. Must do it again sometime….. only next time, with Dave and Chris – and no dramas.

All for now, and no COVID news for a change. Take care everyone, God bless.