Part 10 - Sailing along the Soar

It was a beautiful morning as we rose from our slumber and looked forward to the day ahead; Little realising what a long day it would turn out be. The sky was clear, the sun's warming rays lifting our spirits and whilst we enjoyed breakfast we filled the boat up with water. For now it was farewell to the Erewash canal and first stop Sawley marina to fill our diesel tank. So down the lock and onto the Trent turning right to go through Sawley locks, fill up, turn the boat around near the weir and back again to enter onto the Soar. that was the better part of ninety minutes plus.

Meandering along new waters we enjoyed the views, sailing past the huge cooling towers at Ratcliffe on Soar. I always thought they look rather spectacular. We joined another boat and family for a few locks before stopping for a bite to eat after Kegworth deep lock. It seemed cavernous but oddly enough Pearson' canal guide says that it 7'9" deep. I thought at the time it was twice that depth. We could only open one set of paddles to fill it as it was too violent to do anything else. The central rope was tied round some safety cables in the lock and I had to keep the boat stationary by holding it in forward gear. I still can't believe it's less than eight feet.

But as all things canal there is no rush and the afternoon was drawing on. Some of the locks took longer as we waited for other boaters to pass through and we both said we would find a place to moor for the night, Easier said than done. Plenty of space along the river but every time we tried we were unable to moor due to the shallowness of the banks. On we went and then it was all reeds and we'd been sailing for about eight hours now.

So another lesson was about to be learned. Be even more vigilant if you're weary. Our last lock was Zouch lock and we were hoping that as it was nearly seven in the evening there might be space outside the Rose and Crown at Zouch which has its own moorings. I helped Marian with the lock and as she went to open a gate I walked back down the gunwale opposite to her to steer. Unfortunately I forgot in my tired state that I'd put a rubber fender on the gunwale. Suddenly I found my footing gone and I'm still not sure how I managed to throw my right hand onto the grab rail falling like sack of spuds.

Holding on half in and half out of the water a voice carried over from the other side "Pedro where are you?" I pulled my feet on to the gunwale, hauled myself back on the boat and said feebly "I fell in." Marian who says she loves me burst out laughing. I said that it was a near death experience and she should be more sympathetic which rather than stemming her mirth only served to increase it. To compound my slip I had to sail past a line of moored boats dripping from my waist down trying to look as if this style was normal saying hello to fellow boaters enjoying their summer evening.

We were fortunate to find a place for our seventy feet boat outside the pub. The very pleasant landlady was happy for us to stay there for a couple of nights but did say she kept the space clear for diners as they liked to look out at the view. Well their last diner had left and we were moored. Tired but moored. Oh and wet!