If you know me or Himself for that matter, then you will know that boats, and the water, have been a feature for as long as we have been together. There have been fishing boats, canal cruisers, a RIB he brought in from South Africa, no less (don’t ask 🤷🏻♀️ 😳)and even a pint sized harbour ferry to contend with. He has been known to hold onto boat magazines for so long that any potential boat purchase cruising through these pages have long since sold, sunk or sailed over the horizon.
If he’d had his way all those years ago, we may well have been living on a barge somewhere in The Mediterranean! He didn’t win the argument on that particular occasion, but he has persisted with the dream and I have slowly come round to his way of thinking, granted it has taken a while, and it has happened at about the same pace as that horse drawn barge would have travelled at…😇
Years ago, we used spend quite a bit of time on the Shannon; Ireland’s longest river and one of the magic liquid roadways that is connected to the capital by a series of inland waterways and lakes – going with the flow and enjoying the slower pace of not being in a hurry to get anywhere other than the next pub before closing time. It was the great escape from city life and made for very happy times and memories. It’s the kind of holiday where you bring everything along; children, family friends and pets too, but you can leave the kitchen sink behind cos there’s one of those on board! We did all of the above.
The kids used be fascinated going through a lock. I still joke about it now any time we pass one, if we drive along the canal. It was and remains the best way to describe how going through a lock on a boat is like being flushed down the toilet ! You’re picturing it now aren’t you? 💡🤪
Whilst I have witnessed and fixed any number of blocked lavatories in my time… you know – when the water keeps filling up and you worry you’re going to need more than the bath math and a large towel to mop up the impending mess 😩 – That’s one side of it and the other, not that I have ever been flushed down a toilet mind, doesn’t even require an explanation, now does it? I’m sure you get the picture.
In a nutshell this description mimics the palaver required to negotiate your way up and down through the various levels of our inland waterways, explained in a somewhat unique, memorable and comical way. You can thank the two year old version of my eldest man-child for what can be only be described as his weird fascination with all things to do with the trauma of toilet training. Boys and their toys eh?😂
The idea of a boat and the actuality of it are two different things though. The last boat we had, even though it was really only him who had it – was a work horse; purpose built and delivered brand spanking new to the boat yard. Can you imagine my horror when I was told it had to pass a sink test before it could operate with passengers?That’s almost like buying new suede shoes and ruining them by spilling something ghastly all over them before you’ve even had the chance to wear them. And yes a sink test is exactly what you think it is! They put her in the water and fill her to the gunnels with water! The tricky bit was she had to stay afloat to pass the test. Suffice to say I double checked the insurance policy was up to date, duly washed my hands of the whole affair and left him to it. I couldn’t bear to watch. It passed the test with flying colours, lost the new look for the price of safety and himself ferried passengers to and fro for a few seasons. That’d put anyone off boats but not my fella. If nothing else, he got a great suntan out of it while I was the paler person left stranded ashore. I’d be there for the last trip up the river or putting it to bed as I called it, when it was taken out of the water and stored at the end of each season.
clodaghstraveltales 