1995-96

1995 Oxford Canal

Les Hart’s Reminiscences on the 1995 Canal Trip

You've definitely changed said Val, How do you mean I replied, There you go again said Val shrugging her nose tightly, since you've come back from that week with them, you've done nothing but break wind. My God you even did it in Sainsbury`s last week and then tried to blame the girl on the till. Why don't you control yourself man. Can't help it I retorted, smothering another warm build up of wind in my groins. You try drinking 16 pints of bitter a day for a week, I tell you, its takes months for one's guts to settle. It's not only that said Val standing with her arms folded in an aggressive manner. Look what happened when went to Oxford for the day. A nice cultural day, you said. And what happened for some obscure reason you wanted to get me down a back alley. God was I embarrassed when the Hotel owner came out shouting what's up Doc and then told us to Sod off, Go and lose your virginity somewhere else and not to do it in his alley. As if anyone would. I thought we were going to see ancient buildings full of historical facts, not stand outside some seedy bed sit in the back streets of Oxford. And as for lunch, well I tell you; it's not my idea of fun, to wait until after closing hours, before entering a pub that serves afters. It may be your idea of fun. but it's not my idea of lunch, a packet of Pompadoms served by an Asian landlord amidst the whole of the Arsenal supporters club swapping train numbers. Val crossed her arms more tightly, but I started to reply, no Buts said Val her voice decibels reverberating around the cut glass decanter causing it to ring. Look what happened next Val continued, the age lines on her forehead standing pronounced, daring a response. It wasn't your problem I told you, just because there was a "found teddy" notice displayed in a shop window, didn't mean it belonged to Ian. But you had to have your way, driving like a maniac with road rage all the way back Anyo Wharf, if you could have heard yourself, shouting out, "give way you burke your taking my water", just because someone overtook you. Then you had the audacity to leave me in a pokey old pub room with only snail trails for 3 hours whilst you went shopping. I wouldn't have minded being alone with the snails but having introduced me to two strangers, I had to listen to the advantages of having a BT private line and how to close a restaurant after a weeks trading and some very dubious business plans of a new project of counselling stress Management to Japanese business men, a chance to sample life on a canal. If you ask me, it was him that needed the counselling. Well said Val, what do you have to say? An involuntary action from my back passage emitted in a splitting rasping crescendo, closely followed by an acrid smell filling the living room. Spraying smell inhibitor from a can aptly named " Rustic fragrance of the river" Val choking in an effort to inhale uttered. My God another embarrassment is lined up for me, more skid marked pants. I am ashamed to hang out the washing these days, all my underwear, household sheets and even the towels are covered in yellow stains, since you mixed your pants in with them. Its not my fault, I tried to explain. It never is your fault shouted Val still spraying frantically, if it's not yours then whose fault is it then. Black Toms I cried out, the acrid smell making my eyes water. What's he got to do with it Val said. Bloody Taco Gravy, it gets everywhere, we nearly got banned from a pub at Napton because of the aura we carried with us. Everybody moaned about it, Jake especially, he always judged the morning farts as part success rating of his good pub guide, but that guideline is now useless. I stifled yet another build up of wind in my buttocks, fearing yet more reprisals from Val. It seems to me those mates of yours have a lot to answer for, far from being a nostalgic canal trip with the boys, it sounds more like terror for the residents alongside the canal. From what you tell me, Ron has a vast amount of nautical experience in keeping things afloat, but it seems he doesn't know the difference between a towpath and a private path according to the local Oxfordshire paper headline. "Canal tripper tramples prize blooms" . Mind you voiced Val, I blame that John O`Connor, he got you into this state, even our sex life, such as it was, has taken a back seat, when I ask if we should push the boat out, all you can say is I must turnaround, or the boys will laugh. Well I tell you Les unless you improve your ways you'll be laughing on the other side of your face. Yes Dear I replied. Val gasped and flopped on the settee. Silence reigned at last.

1995 Oxford Canal trip based on the Secret Diary Of Collin Donald a train spotter aged 41ľ.
Saturday In the evening we went to the Crown where Les make a fool of himself at skittles. Sunday: The weather is again very hot. Some of the lads have gone for a walk with Steve to the pub. Iain,John, Doc and myself jump off at bridge 131 and under the guise of helping to push the boat off the bank we sneak off the one mile walk to the George and Dragon. On the way we meet up with Steve's party that has been walking in circles through stinging nettles, cow pats and non-existent footpaths. Ron, Dude and Les turn up much later but have the last laugh as the pub and the beer are crap. Later that evening we walk a mile up the hill to the Bell. Monday: Bad night! The bloody clock in Cropredy chimed every quarter of an hour Arrived Banbury which was like a ghost town as is the 50th anniversary of VE Day. John. Jake and Ron cover the boat in balloons. John and Les prepare a VE meal for tea. In the evening we went to the Barley Mow. Disaster...I let slip I was a train spotter. The jokes and leg pulling were unbearable. I leave under the pretext of watching the football at the other pub in the village. Tuesday: Left the lads (and their leg pulling) at the pub with no beer in Thrupp. Wednesday: Arrived Waterloo early. Got on Eurostar and arrived in Paris two and a half hours later – brilliant which is more than can be said for Arsenal and Dave Seaman in particular. Thursday: Meet up with the lads in the Coach and Horses where they ribbed me about not bringing arms full of chocolate back. They fill me in with the news. Doc has been making a play for ‘man of the canals’ by taking the lads for a trip around Oxford and telling them about raunchy girlfriend swapping parties. Needless to say the best pub they visited happened when I was away. In the evening we walked up the hill to the Bell. Friday - Woken by boat crashing into the lock. Looked at my watch. 5 am. I must be dreaming. Went for a leak and in the half light saw Torn, Les and Steve working the boat. After breakfast we went to the front of the boat to watch the Doc racing a snail and a tortoise on the tow-path. After they passed out of sight in the distance ahead some of us decided to relieve the boredom by going for a walk. Later, we understand, there was a confrontation when the driver of the Malvem asked to pass, as his boat was at stalling speed and was in danger of going backwards. We arrived at the Academy Award ceremony late due to Doc's dilatory driving. On the way back to Braunston Les worked his way through the larder cooking all manner of concoctions. In the evening we got a minibus back to the Crown at Napton for the evening session. After the meal we played skittles where some how wet cricket balls were involved!

The 1995 Canal Academy Awards
Best Dressed - Doc for his Moth Brothers jumper
Adventurer - Colin to leave the boat to watch Arsenal.
Statement - Ron “We can get two boats in that lock?”
"Hello Boys"- Iain’s wee wee -where he was caught having one as a boat came found the bend.
Rip Van Winkle -Les for not waking up despite the alarm waking everyone else nearby.
Foul emission -Tom’s cooking - out of the oven
Wind up - Jake and Colin for the white Valpolicella
Coward - Doc for putting his clothes back on 25 years ago in a partner swapping party
Best carrying out of nominated Duty - Ron as whip manager.
The Invisible Man or Dave Gee - Steve for having no presence.
Dereliction of Duty -Dude for being the senior officer on board during the ‘Malvern incident’.
Playing to the Crowd - David Jism for losing the cup final
True Confession of the Week Award - Colin admitting to be a closet train spotter
Best dinner - Les and John for their VE Day celebration Dinner
Best Breakfast – Iain & Jake for their black tadger delight despite the one that broke and fell on the floor.
Worst Dinner - Tom’s Taco shock (10 votes for - only Tom against)
Worst breakfast - Tom for taking 3 hours to cook 4 underdone sausages
Most consistent cook -Tom for being consistently bad
For the most improved Cook- Doc for improving on his cheese sandwich
Donald Yule award for the most impact by a non-crew person - Mr Lamedriver.
Driver - Doc for slow speeding.
Reading - Material Iain’s porn- I found it under my bunk
Skittler - Dude for glass juggling at the award ceremony.
Special Academy commendations -Ron for his efforts in cutting a extra towpath at Kidlington.
Man of the Canals - Doc
Boy of the Canals - Tom Blogg
Turd of the Canals - Ron Kirkman
Beer of the week - Hook Norton
Best Pub Carpenters Arms
Worst Pub George & Dragon
Oldies vs Youngies Skittle Match won by the Youngies @ the Crown 2-0

Action at a lock. Dude with rope which is confusing as judging by the photo the boat is going one way and he the other

The morning after. An embarrassed Colin sporting dark glasses following the revelation the night before that he was a ‘train spotter’.

Stuck! The water in the pound is low, the driving isn’t up to much and then Steve isn’t really helping

Doc and Ron hard at it whilst the Dude gives encouragement

Ronnie the whip exceeding his duties by taking holiday snaps. Note Steve's naked kness

The last day and Steve at last takes his chores seriously as he welds his mop for the first time in a week in anger. Navigator historians can see Tom is wearing his ‘ever present canal clothes’. This is one of the last times they make an appearance after over 20 years of canal use.

The pub advance party are nonplussed at the Great Western by the difficulty that the shopping party had trying to access the Pub on VE day. They just tried the front door!

Reservoir Navigators. Mr Blue, Mr Smokey Mr Rainbow and Mr Cold

Seven navigators outside a pub somewhere – any ideas from our readers?

VE Day celebrations 50 years on, Les covered the boat in balloons - this is just at the aft end.

The pub with no beer at Thrupp – I bet they had beer on when Inspector Morse was filmed there

A typical canal scene as we look through the bridge towards the next lock. On the towpath is an old postie Navigator, no doubt waiting to go to the pub.

A sad old Doc demonstrates his loss on innocence all those years ago in Chequers Alley. Again judging by the photo he too is just another sad Navigator

VE celebrations get out of hand or face

1996 Midlands & Worcester

                        Details from Jake's Diary

The week kicks off at the Red Lion in Bromsgrove. All three cars then drove around Tardebigge a few times before finally locating our boatyard. By this time Steve had already put in several hours on the tiller, just to warm up for the five-hour haul to Brum through the wind and rain. lain cooked the first dinner and we were impressed that he had provided a sweet, though not so pleased to find that the apricots and custard were in the stew. Once at Gas Street Basin we tied up outside a likely looking rave club and set off to look for the Flapper & Firkin. Once in the pub we raised the average age of the clientele to something close to the legal drinking age.

Sunday morning, Tom drove while I piled on as many layers of clothes as I could and we drove through a howling blizzard for the lunch time, the Tap & Spile. Layers of clothing were shed as the beers went down and John's cards got their first airing. By way of a diversion the barmaid came round selling raffle tickets and we all bought two - except the tight arsed Doc who spurned the opportunity to buy the winning ticket. In the afternoon there were no locks so we were able to huddle in the warmth of the kitchen while Colin cooked a goulash. Unfortunately, since there wasn't a chain saw on the boat I found it a little difficult to cut the meat, but it was quite tasty. He and Ron showed their ingenuity by using the airing cupboard to keep the food warm when the oven failed; they send their apologies to whoever got served with Tom's spare socks by mistake. Meanwhile ton-up John was at the tiller (again!)wondering where all the black smoke was coming from. Then the engine cut out and we were drifting helplessly, a problem not helped by the towpath being at that point on an embankment ten feet above the canal. Cries for assistance to the Engineering Officer drew a blank as Tom was eating his tea. Finally we were able to tow the boat to the junction where we were planning to stop anyway, being not far from the excellent Great Western Arms in Wolverhampton where we devoured pints of Holdens fine bitter.

Monday dawned sunny which was useful as we weren't going anywhere for the foreseeable future. When the engineer turned up he immediately diagnosed the problem as being tons of rubbish around the propeller, and at once set John about rummaging round the weed hatch. The engineer may have been a bit miffed at being called out for nothing, but the local Environmental Health Officers and
British Waterways Board did appreciate John's 'clean up the canals' campaign. After a couple of stops for further clearance of the weed hatch (weeds this time) and a water stop we were ready to tackle Netherton Tunnel. Doc decided to walk through but after fifty yards he turned nancy boy and pleaded to be let back on the boat. With JO'C at the tiller (yet again!) we hurtled 'neath the earth until we were halfway through, at which point the engine turned nancy boy and packed up. We then realised why there was a handrail along the towpath -very handy for pulling the boat the remaining 1514 yards. Back in daylight there was some debate as to the best course of action. Cat decided the best thing was to let the engine cool down while we sank a few pints and set off in search of the nearest pub. I didn't like to see him drink alone so I accompanied him to the Wheatsheaf, just a couple of minutes away. The afternoon was largely uneventful until we reached Blowers Green lock where there was a small queue of boats. While we waited the cooks were invited on to the boat behind us for a glass of wine, which they were too polite to refuse. They then asked Fiona from that boat to visit ours. Quite what she made of the liberal quantities of magazines scattered around is not recorded. In the evening we were in legendary Bull & Bladder, home of Batham’s fine ales. We settled into the back bar and gave the beer a good seeing to while Tom's darts got their only airing of the week.

Tuesday Started out fine -a false dawn indeed. We had a nice flight of locks to keep us amused on the way to Stourbridge where Ron expertly turned the boat round at the basin with a neat 97 -point turn. I was down for shopping duty and it was my turn to chaperone Taco Tom around Safeway, sadly, I was unable to keep him away from the applesauce department where he created an embarrassing scene by haranguing the manager for only having 73 cases in stock. Yes folks, just for a change he had chosen pork chops for dinner. Tom returned to the boat with his booty while Steve and I joined the others in the Royal Exchange for what was a fairly quiet session, not helped by the indifferent beer. One absentee was the Dude, who had by now succumbed to canal lurgy and was sadly missed (ha ha!!). We reached Kinver for the evening at the Plough and Harrow for more Bathams. The beer here, was thought to be the best Bathams we tried, served by a barman suspected of being of a 'Hello Boys' persuasion. By now Tom had joined Dude in the sick bay so we were only eight, and Doc fell asleep in the pub. He was apparently awake when we returned to the boat and he disappeared into the woods for a mysterious midnight stroll about which he could recall nothing the next day. A moonlight tryst with the barman maybe? Not that there was any moonlight.

Wednesday: Tom extracted himself from his sickbed long enough to prepare breakfast -not long enough for Colin who had the temerity to complain that his mushrooms were not cooked. Be fair, we did take them out of the fridge. Later that morning Doc persuaded John and Steve to let him have ago on the tiller. In trying to live down his lethargic snail image from last year he set about driving at high speed -and immediately ran the boat firmly aground. After half an hour of fruitless pulling and pushing the boat was freed by the simple method of getting Colin to move to the back of the boat. Some said this proved Colin is a fat bastard -I put it down to the hot mushrooms. Kidderminster for lunch were Steve regaled us with the complete works of the Eagles on the jukebox. On reaching Stourport and Tom rose from his sick bed to perform some unusual manoeuvres which suggested that his illness had affected his sense of direction, or indeed his sense generally. The evening was the occasion of the European Cup Final which would surely be an improvement than the last footy match we had watched together, the FA Cup Final. To make matters worse the beer was not all we would have hoped for and indeed it turned out to be top pressure!

When I got the boat Started on the Thursday morning it felt almost warm in the sun...but not for long. The journey down the River Severn is pleasant enough, despite being confined to the boat all the time. We had no sooner tied up at the boatyard than the shoppers returned with the news that the Brewery Tap was closed and the Toad & Tulip was a pub with no beer. Instead we trudged wearily towards the city centre and very soon happened upon another Tap & Spile. This solved the drink problem very nicely and we happily tucked into pints of Smiles and Shropshire Lad. lain and Steve cooked in the afternoon but lain was so preoccupied with Ron's magazines collection that the meal did not appear until an unacceptable late hour, by which time half the crew had already been thrown out of the pub. Actually the chilli, baked taties and salad were quite nice, but when you're Starving. We made an initial visit to the Plough, which offered a 'locals only' and a 'boaters' bar. Needless to say we went into the 'locals' bar only to be directed to the 'boaters'. Instead we redirected ourselves to the Bridge Inn where the guvnor had mellowed and we sat by the window and watched Cat, puffing away stroll down to the Plough -where he enjoyed a pleasant drink in the 'boaters' bar, this being full of locals, the other bar being deserted!

And so to Friday the last day, yet another dull, damp morning as we headed north. We reached Stoke Works and the Boat & Railway well before opening time. Come 11.30 we decamped to the pub, including Dude who was dragged along to make up the numbers in the Oldies skittles team (he was actually dragged in by the Young Ones) despite his obvious unfitness. Blogg was left behind wrapped up in his collection of sleeping bags. Needless to say, the contest resulted in a resounding triumph for the Young Ones and the hapless, chocolate-armed Oldies once again had to admit their rank inferiority. The highlight of the game was the dramatic entry of the pub dog as Ron was about to throw and his reckless run down the alley, at the end of which he knocked down more skittles than Ron could have dreamt of, despite his lack of inches (the dog, not Ron that is). Before departing to tackle the 36 Tardebigge locks we decided on an innovation: a driving rota, designed to ensure that John and Steve did not continue to hog all the steering, but allowed everyone to negotiate 3.5 locks each (note the sick bay were exempt). The first 32 locks were negotiated with the efficiency expected of a well oiled crew , helped out by a timely cuppa courtesy of dear old Dudie, dismissed by the cynics as a desperate last ditch effort to win Man of the Canal nominations. Sadly, for the final four locks it was Cat's turn at the helm and it was immediately clear that he had not grasped the tiller all week. Rarely has such an inept piece of driving been witnessed. Cat may well be no mean manipulator of a pike and his plonker but he was terrible on the tiller. Despite this, we got the boat back to its final resting place in one piece. During the afternoon we witnessed a strange celestial phenomenon: a large yellow object in the sky causing such heat that pullovers were cautiously removed for the first time all week. For the last evening the eight fit bodies returned by cab to the Boat & Railway for food, beer and skittles and, of course the Man of the Canals voting. We do not have a category of Bore of the Canals, but a prime candidate soon joined us in the skittle room: a fellow boater from Manchester who proceeded to fascinate us with vital information about good pubs, especially those convenient for obscure railway lines. I was surprised to learn that our friends' wife and other companions were in another pub half a mile away -I'd have gone much further than that myself. But all too soon the last bell tolled, our cabs arrived and we vanished into the night before we turned into pumpkins. Back on the boat a few of us saw off the last of Dude's cooking brandy, which lived down to expectations, before our final goodnights.

Saturday morning was, naturally, fine and warm as we packed our bags. This inevitably anti-climatic time was re brightened up by Cat's appearance in full Civil War regalia, in readiness for a weekend muster. A demonstration of pike techniques using the boat pole followed. Tom was given the Man of the Canals Trophy, Steve was shown where the toilets were so he could clean them, and then we all buggered off home, or to hospital in some cases.

                                                   The 1996Canal Academy Awards

Man of the Canals Tom
Boy of the Canals Ron
Turd of the Canals JOC

Best Dressed- Tom for wearing his two sleeping bags for four days continuously
Playing to the Crowd - Dude for pretending he was sick
Adventurer - Doc for his nocturnal visit to the woods at canalside at Kinver.
Coward - Doc for being afraid to spend more that 50p on a winning raffle ticket.
Statement - Ron“The Great Wall of China is the only man made structure that can be seen from Pluto.”
"Hello Boys"- Jake for chatting up a swan, it was a cob & not a pen as Jake had claimed.
Driver - Environmental’ John for picking up plastic bags whilst driving.
Best carrying out of nominated Duty -Ron and Colin who kept the food warm in the airing cupboard.
Wind up - John for calling out the boat engineer without getting Tom to check the propeller.
Rip Van Winkle -Tom’s marathon effort, plus lay ins when he was well and sleeping in the pub.
True Confession of the Week - Ron for telling us that he didn’t go out looking for porn
Dereliction of Duty -Tom’s re-rendering of the Titanic’s Chief Engineers comment when he wouldn’t leave his meal even though the boat had broken down and was drifting dangerously in Wolverhampton. His statement “I’m having my dinner” was a chilling repetition of the comments made 84 years ago.
The Invisible Man or Dave Gee - Tom and Dude for taking the statement ‘a relaxing cruise’ literally.
Best dinner - Dude for making tea whilst sick as we went through the Tardebigge locks.
Worst Dinner - Iain & Steve for their Lamb and apricots.
Best breakfast- John’s kedgeree
Worst breakfast -Tom and Jake’s cold mushrooms, even the chilli sausages were bloody freezing.
Most consistent cook - Iain and Steve for their constancy in getting two worst dinner nominations
For the most improved Cook - Tom for only getting one bad cooking award this year.
Donald Yule award for the most impact by a non-crew person - Mr Bore in the Boat and Railway
Reading Material – Ron’s Asian Babes, essential reading for those not going to the pub.
Skittler - The Dog who chased Ron’s bowl.
Special Academy commendations -Tom and Dude for guarding the boat when the rest of the crew were in the pub.
Oldies vs Youngies Skittle Match won by Youngies@ the Boat and Railway 1˝ - ˝
Beer of the week   Holdens
Best Pub Tap & Spile (Walsall)
Worst Pub Tontine - Stourport

Taking on water outside the Netherton Tunnel

Steve cannot let go of the tiller even when stopped. A rare photo of Tom who spent most of the trip in his bunk

A picture of Stourport avoiding all the damage that Tom’s driving inflicted on it

River Seven at Stourport, Doc and Steve seem suitably lost

Although sunny the weather was freezing as was the water as John gets rid of the stinging nettles round the prop

JOC & Ron enjoy a joke in the rain

Dude takes notes from what looks like the Daily Sport, Newspaper of the navigating classes

Tom posing with his ‘Man of the Canal’ trophy and one of the many sleeping bags he was cocooned in his sick bed.