Decision made

 Should we, shouldn't we, that was our dilemma. A few weeks ago we had an invite to a New Years Eve party. The party was to be held near Trent Lock at a friends house. For a while Ian and I have deliberated  whether to take the boat down the 13 locks, stay until New Years day and then do the 13 locks all the way back. Seemed like a lot of hard work for one night of fun but the thought of going cruising again, even for a couple of days, was to strong to ignore. So with decision made, and today being a good day to travel as no wind or rain had been forecasted, we disconnected electrics, filled with water, emptied the loo and just after 10am this morning set off on the 12 mile trek. With the sun being so low in the sky, we had to contend with a blinding glare bouncing off the water and solar panels for most of the journey. It was also very cold! There was me wearing my winter thermal coat, scarf round my neck, gloves, wooly hat and perched on top of the wooly hat was my wide brimmed sunhat!  A pair of polarised sunglasses completed the picture. Goodness knows what the gongoozlers thought of me! And then in the other extreme there was Ian without gloves, no hat, no scarf and just a quilted jacket to keep him warm. It never ceases to amaze me how he never seems to feel the cold!

On the approached to Greens lock we suddenly struck ice.  It was still only a thin layer but the noise as we went through was terrific.

  We also had a load of weed floating in the mouth of Shipley lock which had to be removed before I could enter. It was the only lock to have weed as a problem so maybe C&RT had been doing a bit of work round the site.  I certainly didn't fancy all that lot round the prop!

We did have our moments though, as I managed to get stuck on the mud after Stenson lock. I had forgotten that Barkers Lock was litrally a stones throw away and I  pulled into the side for Ian to come on board. He then informed me he would walk but by that time it was to late. The bow had bedded itself into the mud and no amount of reversing could get me out. Ian came to the rescue by pushing the boat pole against the hull and heaving with all his might. Finally with a bit of reverse she came free. Then we were hailed by a walker to say a tree was down almost across the width of the canal. Thankfully we had enough room to squeeze past but I had to knock the boat out of gear to drift over a submerged branch.

Still both of us enjoyed the trip and after nearly 5 hours arrived at Sandiacre. We couldn't get our usual mooring in the arm so have tied up to the last bollard on the lock landing. The chances of another boat coming up the lock is doubtful as the river is once again on red boards.

Festive rider at Sandiacre lock

And finally:-