Concordia Sloopboat Feather

Glenn Woodbury is skipper of this little sloop which was designed in the mid-1960s by Captain R.D. "Pete" Culler when he was working at the Concordia Company in South Dartmouth, Massachusetts, USA.

Feather was built by John Graham in Sausalito, California in 1983 and now resides on Marrowstone Island in Washington state.



Glenn describes his fine vessel:

"She is clinker built, 17-8" long, 5 feet wide, and draws 18 inches with the centerboard up and 3 feet with it down. She is rigged as a gaff knockabout sloop with 172 square feet of sail, 127sq ft main and 45sq ft in the jib. There is no standing rigging and the jib is set flying. She displaces 1240 pounds with rig and anchor and carries as many as six adults. She has two sets of reef cringles in the mainsail, allowing her to sail to weather in 35 knots of wind with both reefs in and the jib set"






I have sailed in company with Feather and she is as fine a small boat as you will ever find.

doryman

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Isles of Shoals again!

Another blast out to Isles of Shoals for my Goat Island Skiff!

The intrepid reader will remember last years trip.  That trip was C-R-A-Z-Y with a roaring tailwind J-Pirate and myself hung on for dear life and made it the Isles in about an hour, and that included non-direct route a pansy-jibe (the 270 deg. tack).  The way back was 3 hours in pounding waves.  I went a second time with L-Man, and it took 3 hrs to get out there in fickle winds and a strong current, and about 1.5 hrs back.

Well, the other day L-Man and myself went out there in about 1.5hrs!  He felt better about all this Isles of Shoals stuff.  Epic snorkeling ensued.  The water was amazing.

I put two similar pictures because the water color was so awesome.  L-Man took some video!  Effing right, youTubes videos, Amateur Style continues to push the edges of technology!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxR2ppWVHV0

You have to click on the link because I couldnt embed it.

The way back.... L-Man not so happy.  With a screwed up current and strong winds from the same direction, FOUR HOURS to get back to the harbor with a stint of slow rowing.  Dismal, after a while.  I would like, for once to get there and back without some long slog.  SIGH  So beautiful, but we pay the price.

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Fowey River Class

The Fowey River Class is a 14 foot traditional dinghy which is actively sailed in the Cornish harbour town.



Based on a knockabout day boat by Reg Freeman in the late 1940’s, the design of which was published in Yachting World. In the early 1950’s a local dentist commissioned a boat to be built by Hunkins Boatyard across the river at Polruan, after that the fleet quickly grew and by the mid 1960’s had reached 36 boats.



Inevitably with the introduction of modern plastic boats the class declined throughout the 1960’s and 70’s, but there has been a resurgence of interest in the class and several new boats have been built including those by local wooden boat builder Marcus Lewis.



Racing on a evening in the summer, the Fowey River Class make a wonderful sight, their distinctive coloured sails and bright finished hulls look spectacular sailing in the steep wooded estuary. The current popularity of the Fowey River Class can be seen all along the town’s water front where well kept examples swing to their moorings when not sailing.



This boat was interesting, it seems to be a FR and certainly the coloured sails and sail number reflect that, but the boat is painted rather than varnished. The planking is also different to other examples, having fewer and broader topside planks and a more pronounced sheer. Whatever her origin she’s certainly a pretty boat.

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Michalak Jonsboat

This is a decidedly non-Goat Island Skiff post.  

My friend Peteloaf, who did a wonderful job building a Mik Storer Eureka (see this post on the Storer forum) is now building a Michalak Jonsboat for himself and his family.  So far, so good.  The boat is built with meranti ply from Goose Bay Lumber, ash, and pine.  Epoxy is being used for the buttstraps and other very critical components, otherwise the PL Premium is being used throughout the boat.  

Here are some pictures.

The boat is actually quite large.  Much larger than I ever thought from looking at pictures.  There is a lot of room.  The main salon in the middle is over 6 long.  It is wide.  It is awesome.  It will easily take dogs, children, and adults, at the same notice.  Notice Storer-inspired inwale.

Looking good!

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Onawind Blue

Onawind Blue is a 15 foot Light Trow designed by Gavin Atkin and fellow blogger of In The Boatshed. The Trow was in part inspired by a traditional working boat from a very unusual stretch of protected water on the Dorset coast known as the Fleet, which is enclosed behind the gravel banks at Chesil Beach.

The traditional Trow was a heavily built, flat bottomed boat, Gavin has bought the design up to date with much lighter ply construction adding some influence from Dory designs and providing a sailing rig. The result is the Light Trow.

Based on the Mediterranean coast of Spain Ben Crawshaw has documented the build of his Light Trow - Onawind Blue and then followed up with his sailing and rowing exploits on his blog The Invisible Workshop




Whats very interesting about The Invisible Workshop is how Ben involves his readers rowing and sailing Onawind Blue in very different waters to those from which the design originated. It is fascinating to watch as Ben develops his skills and experience with the boat, pushing the boundaries of her capability.



Bens voyages demonstrate that you dont need a mega yacht to go sailing, even in the open ocean. His crossing to Ibiza takes courage, skill and a well found boat which he clearly has in Onawind Blue. His sailing also interweaves with the strong regional Catalan culture in which food plays an important role. Cooking on an open boat can be a challenge, but sailing out in the early morning to enjoy breakfast on the clear and sunny Mediterranean is clearly something special.

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Seat cleats gluing daggerboard

Ok my pretties:

Today I decided to start gluing again after a long hiatus. My back is good enough now that I can bend into the boat now if Im really careful. We had a couple days where the temps were above freezing by a few degrees, so the garage temperature came up as well. With a well placed $12 heater from Lowes, I glued up the seat cleats for the bow, center, and stern seats.

This was another typical gluing disaster, messy and sticky. The bow went first. I decided to use two screws to get the side cleats into position, the ply-leverage method is a good one, but I didnt need the added stress of a cleat swimming out of position. Two 1 1/4" drywall screws and I knew nothing was moving. Youll notice that the vertical post has yet to be glued, Im waiting for everything to harden up so I can just get an accurate measurement.


Afterwards, I threw some plastic over it to make a heating tent thing. Very rudimentary, but quite effective.


Next up was the stern seat cleats. You may notice the bricks holding down the cleat along the floor. I did not use fasteners for this one, or its mate in the bow. Alternating the bricks supplied the weight and kept it from sliding around. Also, two screws per side cleat.


I did get some small gaps along some cleats, but when I pour glue all over them for the seat fitting, these will fill adequately. These are not necessarily structural, though they hold the seat which through its fillet along the side will be, but theres enough glue there. Also, no water gets in here anyway. Or put another way: If water gets this watertight compartment, Im really screwed anyway.


AND FINALLY

Ive started on working on something other than the hull. The daggerboard/centerboard and the rudder. Technically, its a daggerboard. Storer and others likes to use the word "foils" which I guess it correct, they are foil shaped, as in airfoil, but Ive never heard that term before, ever. Its always been "blades." So Im sticking with blades. Maybe its a New England thing.

I ripped up my 5/4x6" cedar planks to strips between 1-2". My bro-in-law is making a cherry countertop for his renovated kitchen. I was welcome to the scraps. So my daggerboard has cherry leading and trailing edges, with a middle spice-it-up stripe. The rudder, whose stock is not complete due to wood lackage, will most likely get two strips, for and aft, though I really would like a center stripe to match. This blank was also joined, as in, I used a joiner. Tight. I really went all out for this one!

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Mingming

Mingming 2008

Mingming, then called Phaedra, as I first found her at Woodbridge.

A rapid-fire ten day rebuild to make her ocean-proof

A good sea-worthy hatch!

First sea trials - in the not-so-bleak mid-winter.

Roger and Mingming in Praia da Vitoria, Azores, Azores Challenge 2008

photo Tony Head

Approaching Jan Mayen

Jan Mayen Island

Whales! Roger was accompanied by a very large group of Pilot whales twice on this voyage, he estimates there were about 400 whales in this pod

all photos courtesy Roger Taylor

Mingming is a very small yacht, a 21 Corribee MKII, Junk rigged w/small jib and extensively modified by her owner Roger Taylor. She and Roger have had some very ambitious and adventurous cruses. After a lifetime of sailing and building boats for himself, Roger has formed some very firm ideas about what he wants in a cruising boat. Mingming is the culmination and result of his philosophy of cruising, his experiences and his experimentation. She was originally concieved as a vessel to compete in the Jester Challenge, a rather demanding undertaking, but lately he has moved on to pursue what may be considered even more ambitious undertakings, cruises above the arctic circle.
Rogers modifications allow him to stay in the cabin while cruising in almost all conditions, as well making the little boat very seaworthy indeed. I thought the other day that it was about time for his annual cruise so wrote him to see what hes up to, heres his reply:

"Hi Thomas
Just caught me in time! I leave with Mingming for Scotland, by road, on Sunday, bound once more for Whitehills on the Moray Firth. Another northern voyage this year, the target being 80°N, to the north-west of Spitsbergen. On the way I intend to visit Jan Mayen once again, with the hope that I might be able to catch the island in clear weather and get a proper view of the 7000’ volcano Mt Beerenberg. If things go well I should have plenty of time in hand, and may also nose around the islands of south-east Svalbard and stick my nose into the Barents Sea.

The other main news is that both my books are coming out soon in Russian. Voyages of a Simple Sailor is now at the printers, and the Russian translation of the second book is almost complete. I’ve had great fun working with the translator, a retired Russian merchant master mariner (fortunately I am reasonably fluent in Russian). Looks too as if both books will be published in French before long.

Have a good summer (I should be back mid-August)."

So, Mingming is both Junk rigged and a twin or bilge keel boat which should go some way toward answering questions about either of these design elements suitability for long distance cruising. I will hopefully be writing about their cruise upon their return in August on 70.8%.

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Harrac

The first time I saw Harrac must have been the summer of 2007 or it might have been 2006, she was backing off of the fuel berth at Moodys marina on the Hamble and she irresistibly caught my eye in the same way that you cant help noticing pretty girl.



She was designed by lan Pape as a Yawl and built by Curtis and Pape at Looe in Cornwall in 1981 with single skin carvel construction of iroko on oak, teak decks and cockpit.

LOA: 13.7m (45 0")
LWL: 10.0m (33 0")
Beam: 3.86m (12 9")
Draft: 2.06m (6 9")
Displacement: 14.145 tonnes

In 2007/8 Harracs skipper, Angus Cater set out to sail from UK to Smith Island, Antarctica. The objective was to make the trip in memory of Simon Richardson and Bill Tilman, both had died attempting an expedition in 1977 to climb Mount Foster on Smith Island.

The journey was 18,500 nautical mile, and took her down to the Cape Verde islands, across the Atlantic, through the Panama Canal, and then down the west coast of South America to the Magellan Straights.

Sadly, due to delays, problems with the boat including a near sinking, the narrow window for getting to Antarctica in the brief summer season was lost, but Harroc returned safely visiting Brazil and the Azores.

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Susanna

Thanks to Peter Gregson of Wooden Ships, who sent details of this lovely counter stern, bermudian cutter.

Designed by Norman Dallimore and built by William King & Sons of Burnham on Crouch in 1936.

Susanna measures 33’6" LOD and 38’ LOA, 8’6” beam, 4’6” draft, 6’ headroom, 9 tons TM. Built with 1" pitch pine planking on Canadian rock elm frames, oak floors, her keel is English Elm. Her lead keel is attached by bronze keel bolts and shes copper and bronze fastened throughout. Decks are 1 1/4" solid teak.

She was built to last.



In Peters own words "Is this not the most exquisite yacht?" - you have to agree without reservation.

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Road Trip The butterflies of Morelia

After three days in the fascinating city of Guanajuato it was time to reluctantly say goodbye and get back on the road. Our first stop was San Miguel de Allende. This town is renowned for its arts and culture, and is home to two prestigious schools, the Instituto Allende and the Instituto de Bellas Artes. These schools, founded in the 1940s by artists and writers, attracted American WWII veterans who could attend classes on the GI Bill. Many of them stayed in town or later retired there, and soon the town had a large and vibrant American community. But San Miguel also has a rich history dating back to the days when Mexico was fighting for independence from Spain and it is known as the first city to throw off Spanish rule.

Unfortunately we had time only for a quick tour of downtown and an hour or so for lunch. We wandered around the central plaza and admired the architecture of the buildings and the diversity of the tourists that crowded the area. The church is one of the most beautiful weve encountered and I couldnt help being impressed by it.

It is not difficult to see how this architecture could inspire 18th century Mexican peasants. 

These church bells are incredibly loud and can be heard for miles around. Notice the bell on the left, its actually tolling while this fellow calmly surveys the crowd below.  He reminded me of Quasimodo from Victor Hugos "Hunchback of Notre Dame".

Street musicians. This bongo player didnt miss a beat while acknowledging a passerby. 

After a couple of hours in San Miguel it was time to continue on to Morelia. Rolling down the highway we passed through rich farmland and crossed into the state of Michoacan, home of the notorious Knights Templar drug cartel. Here the conflicts between the cartels, the locals and the government are real, and we saw more than a few heavily armed soldiers and police manning checkpoints and driving around in big trucks. I know very little about this complicated situation but one aspect of it is that in some towns in the region, local citizens have taken up arms against the "Templars" that have terrorized and extorted money from them. Anyway we were careful about where we were at all times and were tucked into our hotel well before dark whenever possible.

We really didnt do much in Morelia. We had come to see the Monarch butterflies, but it turns out that they dont actually hang out in Morelia, but in the mountains about 80 tortuous miles east of the city. So we got up early and drove out through mountains and high valleys toward the town of Angangueo. From there it was another ten or fifteen miles up a steep mountain road that ended at a small settlement that marked the entrance to the Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary, which was at roughly 10,000 feet elevation. We parked in a deserted parking lot and hiked up to the entrance of the sanctuary. The entry fee was about 35 pesos per person, which included a guide. As we hiked up the trail, which consisted of a nice footpath and in some areas staircases, he told us about the butterflies and their migrations.

The countryside is a beautiful forest of spruce and pine and it was a nice walk up to an elevation of about 11,000 feet. The guide told us that the path to the top included 700 stairs. We knew we had arrived late in the season so we expected to see a few butterflies and then head back down the road. Sure enough on the way up we encountered a few and thought they were beautiful. We told the guide they were nice and said he didnt have to walk all the way to the top with us. But he encouraged us to go on. I was a little concerned for our companions, Ed and Connie, they are both a bit older and not accustomed to hiking. But they were game and we continued on up to a small pass where we encountered some horsemen who offered their horses to us, which we declined.

The country around Angangueo is beautiful and rugged.

First butterfly

As we headed down the trail on the other side of the pass, the forest canopy closed in and the guide dropped his voice to a whisper. We walked on in silence, deeper into the forest. Then we arrived in the heart of the sanctuary and found ourselves surrounded by millions of Monarchs. They flew all around us, landing on us, posing on flowers and clustering by the thousands on branches above us. It was at once magical and awe inspiring to stand in silence and hear the sound of thousands of butterfly wings. We spent an hour or so with them, then it was time to go.

Butterflies in flight

Eds ride down the mountain

We hiked back up the trail to the pass where the horsemen had patiently waited. Ed and Connie decided theyd had enough walking and accepted the offer of a couple of horses while Lisa and I accompanied the guide back down the trail. Soon we were back in the car and headed for our hotel in Morelia, we arrived in the early evening tired but still enchanted by the butterflies. It was a perfectly beautiful experience. The next day we got an early start toward the troubled city of Patzcuaro, where local vigilantes had recently taken their town back from the Templars.

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Meander 2014 How the Thames grows up from baby to teenager in four days

Although Im happy to be accused of stretching an analogy too far, the 124 mile journey of the River Thames from its rural source to the point it becomes tidal, is rather like the development of a child, from wriggling infant to grown man, ready to head off to sea to seek adventure far from its home shores. 

Along the way it leaves its toys  lying around, got into technology and even acquired some brand-name accessories. Oh, and dont get me started on the state of its bedroom....

Infancy
The Thames officially becomes navigable at Lechlade Bridge. 

And like most newborns (at least in the eyes of their parents, or at least those besotted enough to pay it a visit at 7am on a bank holiday weekend) its a pretty little river, snuggled up between its grassy banks, and small enough that you could... well, not quite hold it in your arms, but certainly span it with a reasonable-sized narrow boat (more on that later).

Lechlade Bridge. The start!

From Lechlade Bridge its only just over a mile to the first lock: "This is easy as well as fun, thinks the innocent meanderer. A break after only 11 minutes rowing!" We whizzed through this in no time thanks to the presence of Energetic Cyclist on our Land  Team. Often turbo-powered on his headlong cycle along towpaths by his dog (or, when that dog was worn out, his dog-in-law), this tireless character got to every lock ahead of us so that he could fill it, and open the gates for us if we were passing through outside the lock keepers hours of duty. 

Whilst industry, buildings and technology have all made their marks on the lower reaches of the Thames, up near the top, it passes through countryside which appears to have changed little in hundreds of years. And though we got the odd whiff of oil seed rape, mostly there were just grassy fields, cows and a few sheep. We glimpsed the 16th Century Kelmscott Manor through some rook-laden trees, and had a stimulating conversation with our cox of what William Morris was most famous for (she proved very knowledgable, and scorned our suggestion that the answer was "mostly wallpaper").

Meandering. Us AND the river.

Why "Meander"?
Whilst navigating this part of the river, and regularly responding to requests to pull "harder on strokeside" shortly followed by "harder on bowside", or simply lugging our rather heavy boat against the rudder as we negotiated yet another hairpin bend, we realised why this popular skiff route is known as a "Meander": because meandering is exactly what the Thames up here. Like a child learning to walk its path is seemingly aimless as it wanders around, getting constantly distracted and entirely lacking in focus. 

The age of technology
As we all know, if you need to know how to work a modern gadget, the best thing to do is ask a 7 year old, and the River Thames also embraces technology pretty early in life. From Godstow Lock, just on the outskirts of Oxford, onwards, all Thames locks are electric, and all that traditional opening and closing of lock gates by leaning against the mighty beams atop them, is replaced by pressing a button. Funnily enough, Energetic Cyclist didnt seem to mind about this automation of his duties.

A crucial line of defence. No, seriously.

Leaving his toys around
I grew up next door to two boys who apparently spent their every waking moment leaping around the garden shouting "Ack, ack, ack" whilst playing "battles" and stuff like that. But I had hoped for a little more refinement from the fine river Thames. I was wrong. It seems that the Young Thames was   given a huge boxed set of pill boxes during the Second World War, which its left  scattered all along the river bank, practically as far as Reading. Remembering these from our previous Meander we laid some bets before setting off on how many we would see. Our cox went for 12. My Tiny Skiffing Partner thought 40, and I suggested 48. 

Decommissioned military hardware put
to good use in the 21st century.

In the end, we think we spotted 17 on the first day and 14.25 on the second. They were definitely no more after that. Were still not sure about the quarter – it might have been one that was never finished, or one where the walls and roof had been knocked off leaving only the plinth, or possibly just an entirely civilian block of concrete. TSP was duly declared the winner. 

I do realise youre probably keen that I get back to tales of our on-water challenges, but before I leave the subject of Thames pill boxes for this trip, some quick research revealed that these are not just any-old lumps of long-forgotten concrete. Oh no, They have Categories. In fact, most of the ones we saw were FW3s, no less! One of the things about FW3s, apparently, is that the Type 22 and Type 24 FW3s are often confused. Which is entirely understandable. Especially when theyre covered in ivy. 

I was slightly disappointed to learn that none of the ones we spotted could possibly have been "Eared Pillboxes" or "Essex Lozenges", because of their location. But the (distant) prospect of retirement is no longer so daunting as theres clearly enough to give weeks of fascinating entertainment here.

Thames Valley Skiff Club attempts a rescue!
(but ultimately fails as some people need
to learn to help themselves.)

A Thames barrier
Not the one in Woolwich (we were a LONG way up river of that), but one created by our accompanying Edwardian launch trying to help a very long narrow boat which had obviously made a hash of getting round one of the more meandering corners in a cross-wind, and had run aground on the shallow sandy edge of the river (you may have heard comments in the news this year about rivers no longer being dredged – Im not commenting, just saying...).

Our launch threw them a long line, which was dropped in the river, and then rescued by another of our skiffs. There was some pulling, some churning of the sandy bottom, some reversing, and eventually the narrowboat was afloat! But within a few seconds, theyd run aground again, and at this point, we bade them goodbye, as we had a lot of miles to go between there and our evening stop point. There were certainly advantages in being in short boats on this wiggly stretch of the river.

Designer labels
So, by the time we reached the Wallingford stretch on Day 2, the Thames was no longer the small, playful thing it had been in the first 30 miles. It was wide. People were doing grown-up things on it (no, not THAT kind of grown-up thing...) like high-performance rowing, and large pleasure boats (careful) plied up and down with day trippers aboard. The cruiser count was going through the roof. The Thames was no longer a child.

So excited to be approaching my favourite bridge!

But you know how it is with teenagers – they are obsessed with brands. They wont wear M&S jeans any more, it has to be Levi 501s. That kind of thing. And thus is was Moulsford Railway Bridge, which isnt just any old brick bridge, but a Brunel bridge. Id been enthusing to the rest of the party about it right from the evening before we started. Its my absolute favourite bridge on the Thames: red brick with elliptical screw arches. And the older half of the bridge has stone quoins! OK, Ill stop that now. We celebrated getting through it (and it does mark the half way point on the longest bit of the Thames between locks – some 6.5 miles) with a brief pause for jelly babies.

Rabbiting on
The top snack of this trip was the Malteser Bunny. The Land Team had bought a large box of them, in a moment of inspiration at the cash and carry. 

The last stretch on Day 2 was a substantial 4 miles from Mapledurham Lock and, being a touch weary by this point, we decided that we would break this up by having a short pause half way through this when we would consume the Malteser Bunnies wed slipped into our dry bags at lunch time. We didnt half push on to that half way point, Ill tell you!

Once we got there, and were discussing the "ears first vs bum first" approach between munches, the boat drifted a good 400m. These were duly christened "bunny meters", a phrase that has subsequently slipped into Thames Valley Skiff Club parlance for any distance made good due to long stream whilst not actually rowing (normal skiff outings involve swapping over the person coxing at 1/3 and 2/3 into the outing).

Energetic Cyclist is not amused as his bike has broken.
The dog is not amused as he can no longer
run along with Energetic Cyclist. 

Mad dogs and skiffers...
... would be delighted to go out in the midday sun, but as there wasnt any, we went out in some biting headwinds (our breaks were as important for thawing out the coxes as they were for refuelling the skiffers). And on Day 3, we got the downpour that had been forecast. As the rain began to fall, we were were no more that half way through the fairly long stretch between Hambledon and Hurley Locks, and as TSP and I were already at the back of the fleet (again)*, and we were darned of we were going to get left further behind by stopping to put our waterproofs on. Reasoning that as we were shorter and thinner  than the others so would hit fewer raindrops we pressed on for the next lock, where we got our coats on just before it REALLY started to hammer down.

You wont see this in the Boat Race.

Despite being very new to all this, our cox impressed us by producing two plastic bags – crucially, the kind with handles – which she tied round her feet to stop them getting wet. Me, I just congratulated myself once again on having bought a (highly expensive, but worth every penny) pair of Sealskinz waterproof socks a couple of years back for another expedition row blighted by an inclement forecast. Dry feet = bliss.

The cox of one of the other crews was spotted using an umbrella to keep dry whilst coxing, which has been a long-held ambition of mine. Impressively, he was also drinking a cup of tea at the same time AND steered a perfectly good line. Perhaps men CAN multitask after all?

Large pieces of foam.

* TSP and I were the slowest crew on the trip, but our excuse is that we were the only all-womens crew that went the whole way. As lightweights, our progress was also particularly hampered by there being a headwind for most of the first three days. We had discussed in advance how we would have to be mentally tough enough to be the slowest crew, so we werent phased, and we were fully signed up to the concept that if it were as fun as going to Disneyland, there wouldnt be a sense of achievement in completing it. We also had good gloves, large pieces of foam to sit on, rowed perfectly in time (actually, TSP rowed perfectly in time with me which made my life a lot easier), and were totally oblivious of the significance when the "Young Uns" crew sang the theme tune to "Pirates of the Carribbean" every time they passed us (we tried to get out of most locks first).

The Thames "leaves home"
Our trip ended at the Boundary Stone, about 250m below Teddington Lock, which marks the official end of the non-tidal Thames (there must be a reason why this offical line isnt at Teddington Lock itself, but none us us knows what it is). This is where the Thames leaves the confines of its safely locked upriver stretches, and sets off for London town roistering about, experiencing tides, and eventually heading out to sea to seek adventure.

What a mess!
This was my second meander, but Ive spent much  of the past 30 years rowing regularly on several stretches of the upper Thames, and have done several other expedition rows on sections of it too. But what stuck in my mind above everything else on this trip was the total mess that the river was in. 

A major spring-clean is needed.

The whole way, every bank-side shrub was stained to a height of 2-3 feet above the water with a dry, muddy residue; we saw countless huge piles of wood, worthy of being Guy Fawkes bonfires (which is probably exactly what they will be as the wood in them might just about be dry enough to burn by next November; numerous willows had split, leaving half-trunks protruding out over the water, narrowing the navigation channel, and leaving their trailing, still-living branches poised to root themselves out into the river where they will be very hard to dislodge if theyre not moved soon; and various boats left literally high and dry in places they didnt belong.

"Most of us need support in order to achieve"
Our meander took place at the same time as the Devizes to Westminster Canoe Race. Despite being only a mile longer, this is a much more gruelling event, not least because its non-stop. A first-time competitor this year was Olympic rowing gold medallist Ben Hunt-Davies who, despite having been a top-class athlete, found the event extremely tough (see my above comments about Disneyland...). Afterwards, Ben wrote of how "Having the right people around you makes such a difference. Whether it is the people in your boat, your immediate support team or other cheerleaders along the way." I couldnt agree more, so three massive cheers for TSP, our coxes, the other crews, Verity the launch and, of course, our fantastic Land Team (even if they did leave the chopping boards in Reading).

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Event: Private Expedition

Where: Lechlade to Teddington, on the River Thames

Distance: 124 miles

Locks: 44 

Time: 4 days – it was a tour!

Boat type: Thames skiffs

Number of crews in the event: 5 (coxed doubles)

Event Organiser: www.tvsc.co.uk (ourselves)

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The End.

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