Mooring Between Two Weddings

We left our mooring by the Nene Valley Railway Museum after a hearty breakfast as we’re not sure how far we’d be travelling today, this stretch of the Nene appears to be rather short of moorings. The decision was taken to ‘go with the flow’ and see what the day brings.

It was a lovely day weather wise, the sun was shining, and it felt pleasant thanks to a coolish breeze.

The cormorant below had been up early for his breakfast, we  spotted him high on a branch drying off his feathers.

Our journey today saw us travelling through four locks, and we were lucky enough to meet a boat at three of the locks that wanted to descend down the locks, meaning I only had to empty (reset) one lock.

At Yarwell lock we stopped to fill our almost empty water tank, the water flow was so strong, the water tank was filled within minutes. Though it was a little disconcerting as the ‘noise’ of the water going into the tank was a sound we hadn’t heard before due to the pressure of water going into the tank.

At one of the locks while waiting (with my thumb on the button) for the guillotine gate to lower, I felt something crawling up my 3/4 length baggy trousers. I tried to shake it off, only to get painfully stung! I’m sure I put on a pretty dance show in front of several fishermen and canoeists tying to get rid of the thing (wasp?), but at least I didn’t in my panic, shed my trousers!

Talking of being trouserless, or naked to be exact, steering one of the three boats we passed coming the other way from us, was a man who was bare naked except for some tattoos! He was trying to catch as many sunrays as possible – this was a situation where I wish I could un-see the spectacle.

At Fotheringhay we decided we’d moor, and pay the farmer a fiver. Just like the last time we’d moored here, we’d hardly knocked in the mooring pins, when the farmer appeared with his tin. The farmer did warn us though that it might be noisy. The next field on both sides where we moored had wedding marquees in the fields.

We had a leisurely bbq for dinner, and the evening air was very pleasant. As we sipped our Rioja, sounds of a solo trumpeter belting out from one of the maquees entertained us for over half an hour…. it was ‘magic our morris!’

Today we’ve travelled almost 10 miles, and through 4 locks.

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