At Newbury, I thought I caught sight of Judy Voets walking by, but she was going fast, and was lost to sight. (It was the flash of her posh windlass that caught my eye!) Next morning, sharing the town lock with another west-bound boat, as Jean left the lock, I saw Blue Heron, facing East, so dashed on board to say a desperately quick "hello" to Judy and Stan who we last saw at Normanton, and then raced off after HW and the other boat as they were arriving at the swing-bridge. Above Hungerford, the plentiful supply of water ceased, as the canal leaves the Kennet there, and the pounds above were terribly low - yards of muddy bottom showing at each side, and passing other boats fraught with the certainty of going aground. Also the pain of Hungerford Marsh Lock, with its ridiculous swing bridge, which was utterly immovable once opened, so I left it like that, together with the self swinging gates, with a nasty pain in my chest and more evil thoughts about BW. The admonishments on lock beams in some parts of the country to "wait 30 minutes" for another boat so as to "save water", when they also tell you to throw away complete locksfull, (in case they should overflow!) are quite impossible, there being so few boats moving at all, that one could wait for hours each day before seeing another going in your direction. We certainly travelled for many hours each day without seeing any at all going our way.
At Oakhill Down Lock, the gremlin awoke and struck! A Bruce Trust boat (a wide boat) was coming into the lock, (going downhill), so I helped, only then to find its shore crew disappearing as fast as their twinkling feet could carry them to the next lock, leaving me to do all the necessary! Just as they had gone, and Jean was at last starting out from the bank towards the lock, the engine died on her completely. So there was nothing for it but to haul the boat back to the bank, and re-moor, giving up the lock to another boat. Jean went off to find blackberries! So - up with the deckboards. Down amongst the engine. Out with the tools and off with the filter, in with a new one and round with the bleeding..... A quick shake around the bilge with Bilgex and back with the deckboards, on with the starter, and back to square one - drain the lock down yet again, down with the paddles, open with the gates and where were we? Oh, yes, off to Gt. Bedwyn in a hurry to get the nice man there to give us an urgently needed pumpout in the morning! The average speed for the day is NOT recorded, with or without the hold-up!! After that, on westwards, towards Crofton. In the top lock of the Crofton flight, there was a slight hiccup - Jean tried to take the boat out of the lock, but couldn't get it past the upper gate, though nothing was jamming. Simple - I'd opened so many locks that I was on "auto", and had opened the bottom paddles to drain the lock, while she was trying to motor out of the top, and 30 horsepower just couldn't beat the flow of water..... Oops - must be getting tired. So we moored on the summit - the very same pretty spot we had moored at seven years ago, but no owls this time. (That time, we'd stood on the roof of the boat, "calling" to the owls near a distant farm at dusk - they were VERY puzzled!). Next day, we went through the Bruce Tunnel and the Wootton Rivers flight in company with a couple and their Wilderness type boat - their other is a steam boat! They were finishing at Pewsey, to take their boat out for the winter, so we stopped there for the night and had a lovely meal at the French Horn - a marvellous pile of spare ribs for Jean, and something equally tasty for me. After a short stop at Honeystreet for some diesel, we came upon a timeshare boat at Horton being stern-towed by its occupiers, as they didn't want to go any further, had left their Sanikey behind somewhere and so couldn't open the new swing bridge, and also since the nearest winding point was back a quarter of a mile the way they had just come! Eventually we arrived at Devizes, where the wharf was already crowded with boats, so we moored on the opposite side. Not a good choice as it turned out. There is a high bank alongside, with a road on top. In the dark, some yobs from a nearby estate threw stones from the top, and one heavy one bounced off our roof, making enough noise to wake up all in the nearby boats, and scaring us silly. So we had to start up, not a thing HW does easily or quickly(!), turn and cross to the wharf opposite and re-moor there, with everyone, very concerned, helping us. The police were called by one hotelboat owner, and came very quickly. They knew the culprits alright, but there was just the small problem - actually catching them doing it......!
Devizes Dawn.
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