In Little Venice

Being a good rule-abiding sort of person (sometimes) I moved from my mooring in Paddington Basin when my seven days were up.  I was told that although the boats moored were checked every day, both in Paddington and Little Venice, the mooring limits of seven and fourteen days were rarely enforced.  I was also told by the helpful lady in the C & RT office that there had been a lot of movement in Little Venice so it was a good time to try and find a space so I decided I'd move.

I think I might add an extra level to Rea

I first tried to squeeze Rea’s sixty foot into a fifty five foot space, that didn’t work.  Then I moored alongside two shorter boats, getting into a tangle with ropes and the wood on the roof of one boat.  I had difficulty getting the back platform level with the stern of the other boat.  Sometimes doing simple things like tying up in line when single handed are more difficult than steering round weirs and negotiating into small tight spaces.  Tie up the front tightly and the back is sticking out, loosen the front and tighten the back and the front is in the wrong place.  It’s a bit like sawing bits off the legs off a chair to balance it without measuring anything properly.  In the end I left it secure but wobbly and did a leap of faith from the inside boat to mine, vowing to always come home sober and always to be careful.  Yesterday I noticed the lovely young man next door had re-tied me threading my ropes through his boat so now my access is far less hazardous.

I’m moored opposite expensive house boats and a smart floating restaurant, judging by the smell their signature dish is fish and chips (don’t they know fish and chips should only be eaten on a harbour wall, with a north wind howling around).  I look at them and at the beautiful Georgian terrace behind.  They pay a lot of money to look out at the motley collection of boats opposite, mainly unkempt live-aboards.  Yesterday a Viking ship went passed, all blowing horns and helmets, and made a special effort to blow their horns in the face of the diners.  They were followed by a cruiser full of the local alchis who also drove close to the diners, shouting words of encouragement.  I hope that, even if the neighbours are a bit dodgy, the food is good.

The lovely young man was complaining about the tourists, he was sunning himself on the stern when two Japanese ladies leant across him to take a picture of the interior of his boat, clicked away merrily, then went on their way ignoring him completely.

 

I like it here.