Back to Denver - August 2012

I intended to leave the Ouse in the middle of July but when it was convenient for me to leave The Nene was on Strong Stream and when the Strong Stream was lifted it wasn’t convenient. But now the sun is shining my sister is here so I have crew for the journey across the Middle Levels and down the Nene. We’ve progressed to Denver and it’s my birthday. We’re having a bankside BBQ with friends the sausages are suitably burnt, the wine suitably cold and I’m chilled out.  Then a passing man says ‘Did you know Denver Lock is closed for the next five days?’  ‘Whaaatt…!’

In this summer of excessive rain it transpires that bloody Denver Lock is closed because of lack of water. Low tides and high sandbanks make navigation of the short tidal stretch of the Ouse impossible.  So my sister and I tie up the boat and go to the seaside for four days and have a lovely time and then she goes home and I go back to the boat.  Crewless.

On Wednesday the lock is open, I decide I’ll watch todays batch go through on the high tide and see how difficult it is to get round the sandbank. It is difficult, one boat gets stuck and has to pole off, another reverses out, only one gets out perfectly but he has a bow-thruster so that’s cheating. I’ll go through on Thursday.  On the early morning tide on Thursday a Fox’s hire boat gets stuck on the sandbank. That gives the bridge based spectators something to tut tut about and puts the fear of God into me.  They get the boat off on the evening tide but there’s little time for other boats to go through.  I’ll go on Friday.  Friday is wet and windy. I’ll go on Saturday.

On Saturday morning I’m waiting on the lock moorings, the filling in the sandwich between two other narrowboats.  They have crew and bow-thrusters and they’re worried. I have neither and I’m very worried. I’m not sure what use crew would be apart from being there to mop my fevered brow but a bow-thruster would come in very handy. The first one leaves without a problem, the boat coming from Salters Lode comes in efficiently and then it’s my turn.  Into the lock, wait for it to fill, then nervously head out.  I heed the advice of the lock-keeper (unusual in itself) and don’t run aground although I’m a bit nearer the sandbank than I intended to be. I get into Salters Lode neatly (more good luck than good judgement involved there) and that’s it. I’m on my way home.