Bridge House Blog

If you go down in the woods today .....

2008-06-02T10:23:00.002+01:00

The days of boy scouting and girl guides may be over for most of our crew (with the exception of Splash perhaps, who maintains his healthy interest in the young ladies). However this fact has not dimmed the enthusiasm of the cruisers, as was most ably demonstrated by a strong dose of ‘Ging Gang Goolie’ at The Arm this summer.

It was during the preparations for this event, that Spanner revealed his Gandalf-esque fire lighting ability, and overall knowledge of the ancient art of ‘Magik’.

After several hours of foraging, his helpful followers had assembled a mass of firewood and other combustible material which he has skilfully erected into a small pyre especially for the occasion. One small point had been overlooked – the wet wood.

However Spanner was clearly undeterred by this small fact, and with one touch of his elegant magic pole, he produced a satisfying ‘Whoomp’ as the collection of damp twigs and other limbs from long dead trees, erupted in a ball of flame some 15 ft high, engulfing him and everything else for 20 yards around. Yet such is the resilience of this modern day lore master, that he emerged unscathed (save for the odd singed eyebrow)

Splash was particularly impressed by this feat, and managed to record it on his mobile phone.

Everyone else was astounded by Spanner’s technique and crowded around him to celebrate his success and try to understand how he had achieved it. Yet, ever true to his craft, Spanner would not divulge any part of his secret ability and left everyone wandering about the source of his great power. Only the subtle smell of petrol gave any clue to where his power lay.

With the igniting of the fire, all attention soon turned to the job in hand – an evening of feasting, dancing and merriment, the like of which Capenwray had not seen for many a season.

As the group packed themselves around the camp fire, and sheltered under the small gazebo erected nearby to protect them from the rain, the traditional telling of scary stories began. Pole Dancer immediately drove fear and a chill into every clean loving female around that fire, when she graphically outlined the risks associated with using a rough wooden dancing pole. It was only when the group considered where the splinters would go that the true horrors of that technique were realised. And so everyone finally appreciated why she prefers lubricated metal equipment to practice her art upon.

Whilst Gadget and Ricky roasted several types of local fayre sourced from the nearby hamlet of Carnforth, over their gas BBQs, everyone was impressed to see that the Dormouse had come out of hibernation. In the flickering light of the fire, she enthusiastically re-enacted a scene from The Wicker Man (no ! not THAT scene …. She did remain fully clothed throughout !). Like a modern day Hiawatha, she demonstrated her immense ‘pyromaniac-esque’ skills to ensure that Spanner’s flame remained alight and burning despite the strengthening drizzle. Her ‘Joan Of Arc’ impression and her ability to shin up Spanner’s back, kept her audience enthralled and mesmerised. This amazing feat was only bettered by her dancing ability and pelvic thrusting to Abba’s ‘Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie a man after midnight ….’

By now the average reader will have a clear picture of these festivities: the warmth and subtle lighting of the bonfire, the smell of singed burgers on the BBQ and the thumping music provided by one of Gadget’s rechargeable appendiges. However it would be wrong to ignore the contribution that Chardonnay played to the proceedings.

Her outstanding rendition of ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’, ‘Dancing Queen’ and ‘The Wild Rover’ (all sung into an empty wine bottle) only served to warm everyone p for the star turn – a duet of Meatloaf hits with Gadget. Never have ‘Paradise By The Dashboard Light’ and ‘Dead Ringer For Love’ been sung with such gusto. Everyone was impressed (apart from Splash who put a bag over his head and sat in the corner rocking and mumbling “She promised never to do that again …. How can I live with the shame ?”). With all of these outstanding vocal and dancing talents, it is easy to understand why Simon Cowell went on holiday when she threatened to audition for ‘Britains Got Talent’.

All of this excitement made for a rip roaring evening, and one that ensured no one went to bed on the same day that they got up. The only casualties in all of this were several families of duck which didn’t get a good night’s sleep and looked that they had been on a ‘squalk’ all night

Tales of Derring Do ....

2008-06-02T10:19:00.002+01:00

As our flotilla of little boats headed North on our cruise to Tewtifield, tales of ‘Derring Do’ started to emerge from amongst the boaters.

Take for instance the interesting tale of Saint Ricky, patron saint of toilets, and his uncanny ability to release maidens in distress from the smallest room on their boats. A modern day Knight of the Round Table perhaps ? Or maybe the reality of this story is a little more disturbing. One has to question why ‘Saint Ricky’ chooses to haunt the ‘Port-a-potti’ closets of his neighbour’s boats. Does this behaviour have something to do with his enjoyment of seeing the fairer sex partially clad, or perhaps he just wants to catch them with their trousers down. Who can tell ?

We hear tell of the exploits of Leonardo D’Eeyore – a pioneer of unmanned flight across the rolling fields of West Lancashire. Wrapped in green and white striped polythene, Eeyore and his incredible flying gazebo have been seen soaring over the fields and hedgerows. Some say that this was a vane attempt to prevent his boudoir from taking to the skies, others say he can truly fly with eagles. The fact of the matter is that for the want of a few tent pegs and a ball of string Eeyore had decided to defy gravity and show the nearby parachute club what could be achieved with a tarpaulin and a following breeze in the right places.

And finally in this brief sojourn into the lives of heroes, we turn our attention to the underwater exploits of that intrepid adventurer Jacques ‘Spanner’ Cousteau. It was whilst moored at the Whisky Tree that Spanner took to the water. In an effort to avoid soiling his pants for a second time, he was seen to skilfully employ a pair of part worn incontinence pants to spare his blushes. Taking to the water with the gracefulness of a brick the assembled crowd were delighted to observe the effectiveness of this technique, especially as the additional buoyancy provided by his bodily gaseous emissions caused his pants to inflate, thus causing him to float gracefully back up from the depths, and be recovered by his colleagues. The dusky maidens waiting alongside him rewarded this ingenuity with copious amounts of warm soapy water, lathered all over his lean and taught physique …. (must stop this now – I’m getting a touch excited by this !!)

Wind and the willows

2008-06-02T10:13:00.002+01:00

Have you ever had a smart idea ? I mean a really smart idea ? One which guarantees to ensure that everyone has an interesting and exciting time ? Well this is the story of one of those ideas. Gadget, Spanner, Ricky, Death, Eeyore and their spouses, decided that the time was right for a cruise to Tewitfield at the Northern end of the canal. These hardy souls were adamant that their trip would go ahead. Death had even bought a load of wine, and so there wasn’t a choice to be had really. No matter what the weather offered, this trip was sacrosanct.

And so it was, on the Saturday before the last bank holiday in May, these sea (sorry canal) farers met at the marina to cast off. Noting a stiff breeze from the East, fervent checks were made of the local weather forecast. It didn’t look good. This was not going to be a passing squall. Even the seasoned sages from the marina were uncomfortable with the conditions and declined to come along. Even so, the boaters declared it ‘safe to sail’ and the flotilla set off.

Over the next 3 days or so, the boaters were battered by winds from the east. (It was reassuring to note that this didn’t have anything to do with Gagdet’s cooking !). Strong gusty wind after strong gusty wind meant that the collection of boats was able to average 2 knots forward (and ½ knot to the west). Ricky claimed to have seen a mini tornado (or two) over his boat on one occasion, however his compatriots put this down to a combination of prescription drugs, alcohol and paint thinners, and so didn’t treat his observations with the respect that they deserved.

As the trip continued, the wind strengthened, on one occasion pinning Gadget and Co to the canal tow path. On trying to leave the Whisky Tree, no amount of effort could prevent him from being driven backwards for 4 boat lengths, before he was able to regain control and set off in (broadly) the right direction.

The biggest hurdle of the trip was 1 mile south of Galgate, when the boats were confronted by a mighty tree. Now tradition has it that these giants of horticulture are supposed to grow upwards, standing tall and reaching their branches to the sky. Yet it seems that Mother Nature had not told this leviathan of the canal bank, that this was what was expected in these parts. As a result it had taken upon itself to lie prostrate across the watercourse, preventing any boat from passing. After much head scratching and thinking through the options, the Dormouse took charge (which amazed everyone, as it was ½ after the time appointed for her afternoon nap).

Approaching this hunk of wood, she determined to assess the size of chopper that would be required to satisfy her needs. Alas, none of the assembled throng could oblige. This was a bit of a disappointment for us all, but was a devastating blow to Ricky and his ego.

Just as spirits were dropping (and the man from the Waterways had given a gloomy forecast of a 3 day lay up), a man from the LCBC stepped forward with a chain saw and promptly chopped the offending log into firewood. To the sounds of a great ‘Hurrah’, our flotilla abandoned the BBQ party, dismantled the fortified windbreaks and put the corks back into the wine bottles. With a mighty shove in all the right places, the crews sailed forth into the welcoming arms of Galgate and a sniff of the barmaid’s apron at The Plough.

It was just a shame that Windy wasn't around to share in all the fun !

Enter the Whisky Tree

2008-06-02T09:33:00.003+01:00

Picture the scene ......

A balmy autumn evening, sitting alongside the canal at one of your favourite beauty spots after a particularly satisfying bbq. The sun is setting slowly in the west and the birds are begining their twilight chorus. A small campfire crackles in the remains of the disposable bbq you have just eaten off, and you are being plagued by hoards of small biting insects (ignore that bit for now).

Winnie has just provided you with enough laughter to last a month, as she misses her footing over the campfire, and stumbles backwards from one foot to the other, before disappearing arse first through a hole in the nearby hedge and into a bed of nettles (where she remained for several minutes until anyone had the strength to pick her up). Only the cows seemd concerned at her sudden presence amongst their evening feast of grass.

In the mellow moment that follows, a small voice pipes up with "I could just do with a whisky to finish the day off" .... but where to get one ?

The Ricky responds admirable with "I've got a wee dram or two if you hold on a minute"... and with that he disappears into his boat and produces a gallon of Bell's from his bilges - complete with an optic !

At this point, if Ricky ever asks whether he can use your port-a-potti for a wee, I would advise that you decline. One can only guess at the capacity of his bladder if he thinks that 8 pints is a wee !!! Anyway, back to the story .......

Once produced, this magnificant bottle was strapped to a nearby tree for all to enjoy. Boaters, walkers, cows and dogs alike, were invited to partake of the water of life. Many refused, but even more accepted, and it wasn't long before ..... everyone forgot what happened next !

It is true that there were a number of big headaches the following morning, and some delicate tip-toeing around until lunchtime. Even the satisfying hum of Death's generator was greeted by curses and howls of derision until he turned it off !

No matter though. With that one selfless act by dear old Ricky, the 'Whisky Tree' was born. It now bears a little brass plaque announcing this fact, and serves as a focal point for future cruising and bbqing.

Back with avengance

2008-02-24T20:29:00.004Z

After a spot of writer's block, Gadget has decided that the time is right to re-energise the blog and review what has been happening this season so far....

The party season started early this year. It's probably fair to say that it really never ended at the end of 2007. At the end of February a goodly number of the crew gathered together to welcome Black Purl into her 4th decade of life on the planet, and make sure that she had a good look at what life is like on the far side of the hill ! This was a fantastic event at which much merriment was made and friendships renewed.

Parties of this nature are always welcome, and are a source of gossip, entertainment and amusement. However the news of the night had to be the rumour that Windy and Chardonnay were now an item. Quite a suprise really, if not to the happy couple themselves, then certainly to Gadget and Splash who thought they had first digs on Chardonnay's affections.

Rest easy, dear reader, because this was the product of a misunderstanding (probably caused by one or two glasses of the hard stuff too). But in the tradition of all things dear within this crew, these celebrations heralded the start of another fun packed year.

The early Easter turned out to be a bit of a disappointment boating wise. Winds and low temperatures meant that the planned excursions to the south of the system didn't happen. However it is worth commenting on Rick's boat handling skills during a squall at Ratcliffe Wharf. Whilst admiring the renovation work on an approaching cruiser, Ricky took his eye off the ball for several seconds, and that was all that it took. In a move remeniscent of Torville and Dean, his boat pirouetted as though he was sailing on ice, ricocheting off a nearby jetty. In the process one of his fenders was torn assunder, and a little voice came over the intercom "Listen guys.... I'm going to be a few moments .... erm... I've had a bit of a collision and I need to go back and pick up part of my boat ...." (For those insurance reps reading this, Ricky sails a 26ft Seamaster with a red soft top and mahogany timbers on its side !).

The next major event for the crew was the BBQ party held at the Pole Dancer's estate. Again the weather played an important part in the day, but not to be daunted, Spanner showed off a massive erection which pleased the crowds and impressed his neighbours. Large enough to service the needs of several of the attending ladies, this splendid marquee ensured that everyone was kept dry and warm during the celebrations that followed. Even Gadget was well provided for as he was presented with a splendid cake by Mrs Death (AKA 'She who has yet to be named') to celebrate his 37th birthday.

(note from Chardonnay - "In his dreams - his waist is bigger than that, I should know, I have to iron his shirts over a wok ! Unless he has found a gadget to turn back time, Gadget is now in his 45th year).

In the hours that followed, the crew imbibed themselves on the Pole Dancer's wares, Winnie in particular had a smashing time, before she and the Dormouse retired for a mid-session snooze, rejoining the party in time to watch Gadget blow out his candles.

And that's how things stood as the year started. Plans were laid for an end-of-May cruise and Eeyore strted mugging everyone for the end of season do. Back to normality really.

Boating without water

2008-02-03T15:07:00.000Z

What do boaters do to entertain themselves when the season is closed ?

After the extravagances of Christmas and the hibernation of January, the crew decided that an outing was overdue (if only to give Gadget something to write about on the blog !). And so the plans were laid - Gadget, Hyacinth (who now wants to be called Chardonnay for some wholly understandable reason), Mr and Mrs Shagpile, Winnie & Eeyore arranged to meet Spanner, the Pole Dancer and the Deaths for some shenanigans in Blackpool. A fine meal followed by a visit to a show (presented by some ex-blokes in frocks) seemed to be the order of the day.

Now Shagpile was a little concerned about this especially as the camera was coming along, but the formerly named Hyacinth was delighted. After seeing Priscilla Queen of the Desert she was keen to see the show. So keen was she, that out came all of her best perfume. Shame that a dab of concentrated Eu-De-Parfume behind the left ear, turned out to be a delicate shade of Strawberry Sunrise, as she gleefully speared lipstick on her neck by mistake.

Despite Chardonnay (new name - please note) being under the weather for part of the time, the night out was excellent. The crew were shown to their booth by a bloke with a beard, whilst a bloke in a basque served drinks from from the other side of the theatre. It was at about this time that tiny beads of sweat starting to appear on Shagpile's brow and top lip. Nevertheless he put on a brave smile, and after downing several large glasses of wine got up to dance to Abba's Dancing Queen and 'Build Me Up Buttercup'. This didn't go amiss with the eagle eyed DJ who praised him for 'coming out' and drew the attention of the 300 or so other show goers to his antics in the corner (where he was standing gently swaying with his back to a wall).

By the end of the night everyone was dancing .... or should I say stumbling in time with the beat. Winnie took it into her head to try some break dancing in the aisle. This was impressive enough but didn't need her to send the whole table of drinks over Gadget just to get her noticed !!

As the evening drew to a close, Shagpile got his wish - a cuddle from one of the more glamorous hosts in suspenders. I'm certain that the stubble rash will wear off him soon. All that remains is for a meaningful auction of the photographic evidence. Gadget has promised not to post the photo on the blog (and won't break that promise), however no guarantee can be given that any future owner of the photo will be so discrete.

And so the bidding begins .... Do I hear £50 from the back ?????

Dancing with elves

2007-12-13T00:32:00.000Z

Yes it's Christmas time again, so Gadget thought he would get handy with the web world..... So here you are : Check out five of the funniest and seasonal videos that you're likely to see this year in the links section on the left .....

(I think that Ricky looks really cool in his leggings !)

Can you tell who they are yet ?

You'll need to follow the links to another website, and have the volume turned up on your machine !

Happy Christmas

** UPDATE **
Looks like the elves have gone from the web (aw no).
But fear not, I'm sure I have a copy or two lying around, just waiting for the right moment !

See Ya !

Swimming with dormice

2007-12-01T21:46:00.000Z

Four weeks ago, Gadget and Co said 'Au Revoir' to the bunch of friends they had spent the summer with, expecting to see them occasionally over the closed season when they were all at the marina wintering the boats. It had never occurred to him that a cold wet and windy December evening, could create an atmosphere of hysteria amongst the ducks and other aquatic life in the water.

Regular readers will be familiar with the tales of Ricky - he has a penchant for wild get togethers and scantily clad women on his boat. However he also is more than a little bit accident prone. Ricky's better half is fondly known as The Dormouse - primarily due to the amount of time she spends asleep curled up in a ball; and it is she who is the star of the story today.

Having had to spend the night in a wet urine soaked bed (I'll leave you dear reader to imagine why) Ricky had been driven down from his home to the marina by the Dormouse, in his spaceous passion wagon. On arrival at Bridge House, the Dormouse realised that she had moved the seat so far forward that it had locked 3½ inches from the steering wheel, thus preventing Ricky (with his generous stomach) from being able to drive his pride and joy. As we get to know him better, a degree of doubt is begining to emerge about his jovial and good natured manner. Gadget is begining to think that Ricky has a dark and vindictive side.

At the end of a not-too-busy afternoon (spent tweeking his 'private' photos on a laptop computer, and listening to Pink Floyd music at a ridiculously loud volume), Ricky decided he had had enough. His computer was not good enough to do the job he wanted and the Dormouse wouldn't let him install any software on her new shiny machine. You can almost imagine the frustration - had a wet night's sleep .... can't drive my car .... can't play with my 'holiday' snaps ... it's like the world is all against me !

With that Ricky closed everything down, and prepared to leave for home. What follows next is purely conjecture; however if you close your eyes, take a swig of whisky and tilt your head to the left a little bit, you can almost see what happened next ....

Stepping out of his boat, with two laptop bags (and a camera) in his hands onto a slippy jetty, Ricky apparently slipped. (Later, in order to try to divert attention from what he had done, he claimed to have pulled a muscle). This was the final straw, and with an enormous heave, he launched the laptops into the black, cold waters of the canal. Pleased with his actions, Ricky called the Dormouse to see his handiwork. Needless to say, she wasn't best pleased and made her feelings felt. It wasn't too long before she ended up in the canal too ! - Fully clothed.

This is where some accounts differ. Some will say that she jumped in to save her data, others will say that Ricky wanted to see whether dormice can swim. I fear that we will never really find out the truth.

Under the powerful searchlights from neighbouring vessels, The Dormouse splashed her way across the windswept semi-turbulent swell to rescue her treasured disk drive. Launching the bags onto the nearby jetties, she was hauled from the water by the one onlooker who had not yet collapsed laughing at the spectacle.

Gadget was pleased to note that after a hot shower and a change of clothing, The Dormouse was back to her usual cheery self (and awake !). Ricky on the other hand, is now walking with a limp ..... (can't think why that should be). Looks like a brace of new laptops are the order of the day, together with a better fishing net so that that Ricky can recover his camera, which has now also ended up in the water along side an earlier camera, pair of glasses and a bottle of boat polish.

I can't help wondering whether The Dormouse has a strong throwing arm too !

Contact from Pugwash

2007-11-13T20:55:00.000Z

Following the end of season do, Gadget sent a communication through the old inter-web thingy to Pugwash's very own satellite. By the wonders of technology, within hours photographs of the Posse's revily soon arrived on board his cruise ship somewhere between America and Singapore. Such was Pugwash's gratitude, that he quickly responded by return (an extract of which is reproduced below):

Thanks for sending the photo's and all received.Everyone looks very smart indeed and the ladies were very impressive. I see everyone had a great time. (Purl) sent me the excerpt from the blog so I read about some of the "published" activities at the party.

I am on a slow boat to Singapore. Its not like being on the canal where you can stop off at the pub en route and have a few beers before continuing bouncing along the canal banks a la gadget style! 23 days sea passage from Los Angeles is a long time. We passed between Saipan and Guam last night, pass through the Philippine Islands Thursday/Friday and arrive Singapore on 21st.

(snip)

All the best,

Pugwash,

PS. keep up the good work on the blog. It's great stuff.

It's clear to me that life on his luxury liner is not as flexible as on the canal, and in a totally supportive style, I have replied as follows:

Ahoy Pugwash !

Glad you like the photos and that they got through OK.

Good to see that the cruise is progressing nicely - 23 days with nothing to do - must be sheer hell ! I take it that the promenade deck pool is getting some hammer. If your job is only half as good as the ferry ship that was in Liverpool the other week (I think they call her the QE2 or something like that), then you must be having a ball !

To help you with the blog ... Winnie is part owner in a 23ft Freeman called Lady Jane, and the Turtle is a retired ship's captain from the neighbouring marina. He has just bought Jemimah Puddleduck for his daughter, and spends the time running round the system looking for 'Me-Shell' ... his wife (hence the name).

Make sure you scrape your barnacles before you anti-foul the ship won't you, and don't forget to grease your nipples before floating her again.

In the meantime - sayonara (or Wa Ki Liao as they say in Singapore)

Gadget

Now those of you who know Pugwash may labour under the impression that he is working whilst he is away - I would encourage you to believe none of it. As I write, he will be sipping a mint julip and watching the sun go down over an Indian Ocean horizon .. all resplendent in his white tux and dickie bow !

End of the season

2007-11-03T21:24:00.000Z

I find it hard to believe that the end of the season is upon us. Before too long, a number of our boats will be taken out of the water and stored under cover for the winter. It's getting a little too cold for some of the older bones to spend a night on the canal (take note Shagpile - cold isn't good for your back)- condensation is rising, and blood has become a little bit too thin after the summer's frivolities.

It was with this in mind, that Gadget and co met up for their end of season do in Garstang. All decked out in dicky bows and tuxedoes, with the ladies dressed up in their finery (with new hairdoos to boot), we all descended on a sedate and quality venue to introduce them to a party a la marina. And boy was it a great night.

16 hardy souls joined in - thanks to Eeyore and Winnie for pulling it all together. Death, Spanner, the pole dancer and Moses were there, as were Splash, Hiacynth, Ricky and Shagpile (together with a some of our number who we haven't christened yet). It was during the meal that Turtle received his title - he'd spent most of the evening wandering around muttering "where's me shell ?" (or words to that effect).

It was a great shame that the Dormouse, Black Purl and Windy couldn't make it - they missed the great pile up, when Winnie got a bit frivolous and pulled half a dozen diners into a heap on top of her. As always, Spanner was in the thick of it to make sure that no nuts worked loose.

By 1am the party came to an end - both Gadget and Eeyore were asleep in the bar. Still, everyone got to bed safely (except Splash, who spent the night on the sofa). The following morning saw Ricky looking very sorry for himself, as he meandered about the marina in a daze, looking for a remedy for headache, and a solution for coffee stains in his bedclothes.

And so ends an absolutely fantastic season. The posse are getting a bit of a reputation for themselves - and one that they are all proud of. We have had so much fun this year, and can't wait for next season to kick into life. There's talk about a trip across the Ribble Link at some stage - this will act as an incentive for Gadget to get his mechanics right (probably to the great relief of everyone !) There's even the possibility of a wedding on the bridge (with Turtle acting as a sort of 'Captain Stubing') - Perhaps we will end up with our very own 'Love Boat'.

Still, I'm sure that there will be the odd days up on the system, possible sailing or just working had to keep the duck sh*t off the gel coat. There's always something to do on the boat ......

Ricochet turning

2007-10-16T23:29:00.001+01:00

It is a fact of boating that on occasion, we will bounce off each other as we wend our way along the canal. Travelling at up to walking pace, collisions tend to be light, and don't cause too many problems.

There is no driving licence on the canal, nor is there a test. It is quite possible for someone to buy a boat, and go sailing with very little experience, or expertise at navigating.

It was with such a background that Gadget and co set sail one September afternoon two years ago. Having reversed out of our berth (and executing a perfect 17 point turn), we meandered out of the marina, bumping the odd fender along the way, until we found ourselves with a sharp right (or left) turn into the main line of the canal.

It was at this point that Ricochet Turning was discovered.

Aim at the bank with a right or left lock on ..... don't travel too fast, and bounce off. Whichever way you end up pointing is the way you will be going on your trip. Quite a random act really, and one which I have since mastered. However it was a source of amusement for everyone, that no one could guarantee whether Gadget would make the pub, or whether he would end up going in the opposite direction.

What is really reassuring is when an experienced merchant seaman such as Pugwash, puts his boat into full speed ahead as he enters his berth, crashes into the marina wall, and sends quantities of glassware showing down from the cupboards in his cabin - smashing !

At least I am in good company !

Barbie Does Bridge House

2007-10-14T23:00:00.000+01:00

Especially for Ricky - here's a reminder of that special day in July, when the girl in the pink bikini came to play .......

Enjoy !

Is size important ?

2007-10-14T21:18:00.000+01:00

The question of size is something which is regularly discussed around our camp fires. Now this may seem like a flippant and suggestive conversation, but to us boating blokes dimension of our equipment is a very important matter. It dictates the techniques we need to use to handle ourselves to best effect and ensure that we don't cause any injury by misjudging our length.

Our boating ladies are also more than a little concerned about size - too big and you have a problem trying to accommodate it in the space available. Too small and it's hardly worth getting it out is it ?

From a purely personal point of view, I find my 27ft more than adequate to fulfill our needs. We can all get inside with great comfort (there were 10 of in there on Saturday, all watching a DVD). However at 6'10'' she may be considered a little narrow across the beam. Other people (like Ricky for example) prefer a little bit of a larger rear, and opt for a slightly more generous tub. At 8ft 10" wide, he has more than enough room for his 'soirees' and nefarious visitors.

But I am constantly told, size isn't important to everyone. Winnie must be absolutely delighted with the small package that Eeyore has presented to her. It's not just the 23ft long Freeman that obviously appeals, Eeyore has made sure that his tackle matches the dimensions exactly.

At 4ft 7¾, Eeyore isn't the tallest bloke on the patch. Size 6 shoes (Mothercare's best) adorn his feet, giving him alot in common with Frodo Baggins and the hobbits of the shire. Wearing trousers and shirt from Asda's 'Back-To-School' range, he cuts a fair sight on the system

Yet good things come in small parcels (I am led to believe). He bragged to me over the weekend, that he could carry TWO doughnuts at a time (miniature doughnuts you understand), with a cup of tea in each hand and no other assistance. All he relied upon was his god-given appendages.

I can well believe it, and so dear reader can you. If you are ever up near Galgate on a balmy summer's evening, Eeyore can sometimes be seen prancing along the towpath in Winnie's G-String (not a pretty sight) and not much else. It's at this point that you realise size may not be important, but pride most certainly is !

(Note to Spanner - see I didn't mention that you dressed up as well did I ?)

What's in a name ?

2007-10-11T20:44:00.000+01:00

Life on the marina is fantastic. The friendliness and camaraderie is great.

Take the case of Gadget's lad - 'Splash'. Now Splash is a confident bloke really - he's been boating for decades (in his head) and knows everything about boating. As one of our number said "Value him whilst he is a teenager - when he gets older he'll stop knowing everything" (mmmm I doubt it ...)

Anyway back to the story. Gadget and family is entertaining on board, and have a full compliment of guests sitting on the bow of the vessel as we cruise south toward Billsborrow, and Splash is making sure that they are fed and watered. So far during the trip he has walked along the side of the boat on a couple of occasions. All he wants to do is make sure that our guests are looked after. There is absolutely no way that he wants to show off to the young girl with us.

So here he is - one pair of jeans, one pair of shoes, (you can see where this is going), when he starts his next trip to the front of the boat - two cans of pop, two packets of crisps. No - he doesn't need any advice - after all he's a teenager isn't he ?

"Look mum, I know what I'm doing, I can manage .... stop nagging ... no I don't need to hold on .. I can manage .............. Aaaaaah Muuuummmmmmmm ................SPLASH !

Yep, you were ahead of me weren't you ? A new nickname is born !

Well it was a cheap lunch out for us ... Splash had to stay in the boat and dry out ... we all went out for pub grub and a pint.

And of course, there was no mickey taking when we got back was there ? Well, maybe just a bit ... and the odd pair of armbands, oh yes, and some wise cracks.

I have to say that Splash took it all very well .... for about two minutes, before reverting to type, and going off on his own.

Sitting on his own, he was approached by a wise not-so-old ukulele playing sea dog, who sympathises with our Splash

"That's nothing lad", our friend replies "I go stuck in the bulrushes ... now they call me Moses !"

It just goes to show ..... What's in a name.

I wonder what you have to do to get the nickname 'Winnie' ??????

Boys and their toys

2007-10-11T20:21:00.000+01:00

What is it about boys and their toys ? I suppose with the name 'Gadet' that accustion could be levelled at me. However I do reckon that I know how to use my toys properly, and am conservative in my battery life. Unlike some I could mention ......

Take Dr Death for example - give him a radio, and boy does he never stop talking.

Last summer we went for a sail with Death and some other friends. Four or five boats in a convoy, with Gadget and co at the back, and Death speeding off ahead like a speedboat released from Windermere. He's not got a rev counter you see, and thinks he can plough on ahead without slowing down.

So, I'm sure you've got the picture - four boats leave the marina, with Death at 'point'.

"(crackle - crackle) Bridge 66 is clear !" comes the shout from in front of us. Good call really, as bridge 66 is on a bit of a bend and it helps with the navigation. I'm sure that the Pole Dancer's crew were pleased, however we had only really just left our berth.

"Thanks Death" comes the reply ..

"(ring - ring - ring) ...clear" comes the next broadcast - Death has hit his pager button and drowned out his transmission. Still we get the gist - sounds like bridge 65 to me .... (oh yes, we're heading south)

This goes on for several miles with intermittant and 'helpful' advice from our pathfinder

"(crackle) - there's something in the water here - take care" shouts Death ....."wait on .... no - forget it, it's a fish"

"(ring - ring) - Narrowboat coming "

"(static) look to your left after bridge 62, there's a sheep in the field, and it's chewing grass !"

(Thanks Death)

As the journey progresses, Death starts to become more and more faint, and the bridge numbers start spacing out. The commentary we're getting is starting to get boring now, and less relevant as he steams off into the horizon. Bridge 59 ... 58 ... 57 .....52 (and we're only just clearing bridge 60 !). I turn the radio off ... aah, peace at last. This is what cruising on the system is all about - no interruptions.

Then the phone goes ...."Gadget - Death here - bridge 51 is clear !"

Next time, I'll make sure his handset has flat batteries.

God help us if he ever discovers his boat has reverse gear !

Lives of the rich (?) and famous (??)

2007-10-03T20:47:00.000+01:00

It occurred to me the other day - how would we react if somone famous bought a boat on the marina ? After all we are a modest crew. Although we have an expensive hobby (and wine bill), we are perhaps a bit uncomfortable with the excessive trappings of those who are well known across the country. You know what I am on about ... the wine (we have that I suppose) - the women (nope) and the song (ah yes, we have that too). I suppose we are not that different to the rich and famous after all.

Consider this then .... just suppose that a celebrity joined our group. Someone relatively famous (well certainly to those under a certain age) - someone like ..... David Brent for example. You know, Ricky Gervaise from the office. It would be relaively easy for him to take on the guise of a regular guy (lets say for arguement's sake, a retired joiner), and buy a comfortable boat. It would have to be fairly large, say about 26 foot, and be a recognised marque (say a Freeman). A cheery and vivacious wife and a small white dog would just round it off.......

So, then, what would Ricky get up to on a regular day ?

Well of course there is the routine task of keeping the boat clean (perhaps a spot of french polishing), a bit of mending and repairing here and there (especially if the canopy was a little worn) and of course the entertaining of 'ladies of a certain type'.

What would Ricky do if a shapely young lady sidled up to him, stroked his ego, and asked to flop on his boat ? How would he react if all she was wearing was a skimpy pink bikini ? After all, that is the sort of thing that we regularly see up in West Lancashire isn't it ?

Well I can almost see him beaming from ear to ear, his eyes crinkling in delight (although perhaps looking a little shifty as he looks around to see who's watching), and perhaps a tint of colour in his cheeks as he flushes with eager anticipation. No - Mrs Gervaise would not be there, but perhaps Ricky has brought along a discrete photographer to capture the moment,

It would all go so well - click click, grin grin, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no MORE ! Woah ! - you're wicked - woah ! Ay ? Top off ? Bikin top off ? Cor yes guv, I'd say so ... .whew ! Click click, grin grin ... Woah

I'm sure you get the picture. Be careful of your heart Ricky - at your age you can't be too careful !

Then the bubble bursts, and Ricky's got company coming. Not only are the lads in the workshop spying on his little fantasy, but another boater is walking towards him ..... Quick Ricky think of something !

Ah yes - that makes perfect sense doesn't it ..... you thought she wanted to take the top OF THE BOAT down, not strip off all her clothes. Its a good job she didn't want you to take your top off too.

It's also a good job that the only real witness to what really happened has a very bad memory (unless of course you paid him off). Looks like you got away with it this time Ricky - just don't tell anyone will you. I have a feeling that no one will believe you.

...... or maybe they will, and they just won't let you ever forget !

Time in your hands

2007-10-02T19:27:00.000+01:00

One of the best things about the canal, is the ability to kick back and unwind. I find the best way to do this, is to take my watch off and set my body clock to the movement of the sun. If it's dark, I sleep; if it's light I get up. It's quite simple really.

Now this way of thinking is all very well if you only have youself to consider. There are practical difficulties when you do need to know the time - you know, when you want to meet with friends, or when you need to know when the pub opens. All of that essential stuff. So how do you do it ?

I introduced one of our number to the art of telling the time by the sun - accurate to within 15 minutes. Once you understand how it rises and falls it is quite straightforward to keep track of time. A simple sighting guide can be made using fingers and a fixed point, and voila - an instant sundial. Despite several tests and attempts to undermine my ability, I was able to state the time with fairly regular accuracy. I suppose it's a gift really. You've either got it or you haven't.

Our friend was quite impressed with this - so impressed that he wanted to learn the art. He practiced hard, and to be fair he struggled to get it right. It took him quite a while to get the hang of it - standing on the prow of his little boat (even when it was windy), with one arm outstretched to the sun with two fingers raised and a finger from the other hand sighting onto a fixed point.

Miraculously though, he did get one or two guesses right, spurring him on to greater things. So inspired was he that he told all of his friends (didn't take too long), and anyone else that he met of his new found ability.

As he was getting to grips with the skill, the budding horologist asked me a very valid question "What do you do when it's cloudy ?"

"Quite simple" I replied "Read someone else's watch ........... like I have been doing for the past three months"

Gotcha !!

( and I promised not to tell anyone :-) )

About time too ....

2007-09-30T15:12:00.001+01:00

After all the talk about the internet, world-wide communications, MP3 players and the like, and the massive (?) impact that they have had on the life of the canal and the boating community, I thought it was about time that I did something about it. As a result, the Bridge House Blog has been born.

It does occur to me that when we are away on our boats, we are trying to get away from the fast-paced life we have, where computers and instant access thingy-majigs rule. Mobile phones do serve a purpose to keep in touch with each other (signals permitting), but apart from that, the slow-paced leisurely and peaceful lifestyle that the canal offers, is a great way to get away from the stresses and pressures of work.

That is always assuming that certain boaters don't get together for a hooley, BBQ or just a party. We know who they are ...... they know who they are ..... they're the ones with red noses, bleary eyes and sore heads first thing in the morning. Usually up last (unless the small dogs that they favour wake them first), these hardy and friendly soles are characterised by the clinking of bottles. the popping of corks and the bag loads of waste that they create.

BBQs and camp fires abound (much to the amusement of the local cattle and odd field mouse). Music is central to their world - their singing and dancing is only challenged by the distant hum (or is it a roar) of their generators. It really is a case of some "Good Vibrations" out "In The Country", with a bunch of friends "Dancing On A Saturday Night". Even when it goes dark and chilly - spirits are never dampened - relocation into the cockpit of one of the boats proves it really can be "Paradise by The Dashboard Light".

Each of this group carries a little secret of some description ... some of which may be shared in the forthcoming posts. Carrier bags, plastic dolls, children's TV characters and chromium poles all play a part in this group's experiences. Of course, blushes will be spared wherever possible, but at the end of the day .....

WE KNOW WHO WE ARE !

So here's to great friendship and a bucket load of fun. Read on ! Read on.