Early Morning Light

The Bridge in Bridgehouse, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

Having been asked to take a photo of a friend's boat in the marina, I levered myself out of bed at 5(!) am to catch the early morning light, before it started hosing it down with rain again. Sadly, getting up early is all well and good, but it rarely helps if the boat you are photographing is in shadow until 2pm...
The bridge looked nice though.

Henry's Helm

Henry's Helm, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

I recently bought this very smart Vetus wheel on Ebay for Henry. The centre cap was missing, but I was lucky enough to find one through Vetus' importer in a dealer on the Thames. The 'dashboard' on Henry is non standard, though I think it might be a standard dashboard turned upside down, with an instrument pod above the wheel. The only reason (excuse?) I could find to change the wheel was that the rim of the old one was too close the the instrument pod, and it made it a bit difficult to read the voltmeter. I doubt that there has ever been a flimsier excuse to buy something for a boat but, thanks to Ebay, the whole exchange (after selling the old wheel) cost less than a tenner.
Honest.

Final Resting Place

Final Resting Place, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

This rather sorry looking boat was resting on the bed of the canal just south of Bridgehouse Marina for some months earlier this year. While it was undeniably picturesque, it was also an invitation for the local 'yoof' to throw stones at it and was in any event a pollution risk, and it has now been removed, probably by BW and presumably to be broken up.
In a previous life, she was named 'Vesta', and was operated as a hire boat on the Norfolk Broads by Southgates in Horning. She must have given hundreds of families their first taste of holidays afloat.
I was taken to the Broads by my parents in 1963, to spend a week on 'Silvery Wings', a cruiser we hired from Smith and Forsters in Brundall. I immediately, and irreversibly, fell in love with both the Norfolk Broads and with motor cruisers, and since then I seem to have spent most of my working life trying to make money to spend on hiring, buying, renovating, and maintaining them.
We drove to Brundall in my Dad's Austin A40 (Farina). I haven't a clue where that is now, nor do I know where any of the 27 (!) cars I have owned have gone either. But I have kept track of a remarkable proportion of my boats. Sabre is on the Colne, Pyeseas is in Ipswich at Fox's, Stargazer is in Brundall, Navigator 2 is on the River Wey, Little Ness on Strangford Lough.... I could go on.
I hope none of them end up like 'Vesta'. It would be a bit like watching your ex wife being torn to pieces by Trinny and Suzannah, without the happy bit at the end.
I suppose there would always be a temptation to attempt to restore her to her former glory. But old wooden boats need more than a pair of heels and some lip gloss. They need a lifetime of utter devotion and a platinum credit card.

A Fine Morning.

The Lancaster Canal in Garstang, Lancashire, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

I know I should be working. In fact I have a desk full of reports and assessments that are not going to go away unless I either deal with them, or throw them out of the window. Appealing though it might be to imagine lobbing them out and pretending that they were caught in the breeze and flew away, I have a feeling that my credibility might suffer, and anyway, I have no doubt that some helpful soul will have a copy somewhere. So, I will have to deal with them.
But I'm not doing. I am sitting at my desk thinking about going to the boat at the weekend. About how I can wire in a cockpit light, and where to move the ballast to next. Perhaps I should try the grill pan or the boot of my car. I have no idea, but its so much more interesting than writing reports that I am prepared to give it my full and undivided attention.
This is all part of the reason for having a boat in the first place after all. Not just to have a floating shed, but to have an imaginary refuge when I am stuck in a boring meeting or in traffic. Or in IKEA.
I feel better already.

Sunshine in July...!

Henry on her mooring in the Marina 2, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

The weather finally cheered up today, and the sun put in a welcome appearance at the marina. I was on board trying (again) to trim the boat so that it will steer in a straight line, when I realised that it had brightened up outside, so I abandoned the ballast shifting and took some photographs.
I must make more of an effort with the ballasting, but it seems that the more weight I move around, the less inclined the boat is to steer properly. My last Norman 23 'Tranquillity' steered like a tea trolley on roller skates when i bought her, but I quickly stowed a couple of bags of gravel under the forward bunks, and she was transformed. Henry is a little better than Tranquillity was originally, but not by much, and I have not been able to improve things in spite of much gravel moving, freeboard measuring and even replacing the rudder with a 'course keeper'.
Perhaps its just me.
I'm not getting any younger...

Soon after I bought Henry (Our Haven at the time), I had her lifted out of the water and wheeled into the 'shippodrome' at the marina. I am undeservedly lucky to have a wife who is prepared to crawl under a boat with a paintbrush in her hand (while it is out of the water obviously), so we polished and antifouled her, and had new rubbing strakes fitted to both sides. We then had the grand renaming ceremony when I applied the 'Henry - ex Our Haven, Bridgehouse Marina' graphics to the hull. Strangely satisfying, not so much because there is anything inherently wrong with the name 'Our Haven', but more because I have long been a huge admirer of the bravery and dedication of lifeboat crews in general, and of Henry Blogg in particular, and at long last I was able to name a boat after him.

Henry Blogg is the most decorated RNLI crewman in the history of the service, with three Gold and four Silver RNLI Medals for Gallantry as well as the George Cross and the British Empire Medal. He joined the crew of the Cromer lifeboat in 1894 at the age of 18, and finally retired as coxswain at the age of 71 after 53 years of service during which the Cromer boats carried out 387 services, the majority led by Coxswain Blogg and saved 873 lives. He never flinched from his duty, never gave so much as a second thought to his own safety when lives were at risk at sea and spent his entire adult life waiting for the 'maroons' to go up, before putting to sea in a wooden boat, often at night and in appalling weather, to rescue complete strangers from certain death. He did this wearing waterproofs that were only slightly waterproof, a cork lifejacket that barely floated and in a boat that was well built, but which was powered by a pair of Fairy petrol engines that gave her a top speed of 8 knots.

I know that times change and that there is little real point in making comparisons with the past, but I can't help feeling that when Rio is called 'brave' for playing with a thigh strain and when architecture is described as 'heroic', there is a lack of perspective which could be provided by men such as Henry Blogg and his crew.

It is an often quoted assertion that fishermen rarely learn to swim. Blogg was no exception to this, which meant that he knew, every time he put to sea, that he only had to slip on deck once or miss his handhold when a big sea came on board, and he would die. To take that sort of risk to save the lives of men and women whom he had never met, and who would do no more than shake his hand as they clambered up the steps in Yarmouth harbour, is more than bravery or heroism.

It is gallantry.

And that is something that will never be seen on a football field or in urban redevelopment.

Evening on the Lancaster Canal

Evening on the Lancaster Canal, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

The Lancaster Canal is undoubtedly one of the most picturesque, peaceful and unspoilt stretches of canal in the British Isles. It runs from the centre of Preston to Tewitfield near Carnforth, a total distance of 42 miles. There are plans to regenerate the upper reaches of the canal as far as the original terminus in Kendal.
The canal is connected to the rest of the canal network via the Ribble Link, a newly canalised brook that leads to the River Ribble near to Preston Docks. Although the Ribble is tidal, it is possible to reach the Rufford Branch of the Leeds and Liverpool via the River Douglas.

The Lancaster is more like a river than a canal in many ways. Built as a 'contour canal' it has no locks on the main line, and the GRP cruisers, many of them wide beam, outnumber the steel narrowboats many times over.

I realise that this may be of even less interest than the rest of this, but Henry is a Norman 23 hardtop, but has the window arrangement (and possibly the forward superstructure) of a Norman 24. This has led to her being registered on the Norman Boats Appreciation Society website as a 24. From many angles she has the appearance of a 24, and the 'cut off' corner at the front of the side window, and the parallelogram shaped window under the windscreen, are identifying features of the 24.

But she isn't a 24. She's a 23. The cockpit is smaller than a 24, the bow is a different shape and the coamings are different.

And I measured her. With a tape measure.

Saves me about £28 a year on her mooring fees too.

Inside Henry:

P1010010, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

This is Henry's retro interior, with padded vinyl cupboard doors and bamboo effect worktops. In fairness, this was probably quite cutting edge when she was built, but apart from some reupholstery, it has remained unaltered for 27 years and the net result is more 1980's than Duran Duran and shoulder pads.

Henry (ex 'Our Haven')

Henry HDR at BHM, originally uploaded by Bay Photographic.

This is my Norman 23 'Henry' at her moorings in Garstang on the Lancaster Canal. Henry is a narrow beam Norman 23 mark 3 hardtop, originally moulded in GRP by Norman Boats of Shaw in Lancashire, and fitted out in 1980 by Lytham Boatyard in Lytham St Annes.
I have owned Henry for less than a year, having bought her from her previous owner of 12 years last October. At that time she was called 'Our Haven', but I risked the wrath of the marine good luck fairies by renaming her 'Henry' after Henry Blogg the Cromer lifeboatman.
I keep Henry at Bridgehouse Marina on the Lancaster Canal in Garstang. Since buying Henry I have carried out a certain amount of work, including replacing the canopy, rubbing strakes, steering gear and wheel, and general maintenance, but Mike, her previous owner, clearly loved her and maintained her carefully and meticulously, so for once, the purchase price of a boat was more than just a down payment on the chandlers bills.
Henry is fitted out in a unique 'retro' style, quite unlike (except in layout) any other Norman 23.
I have been so pleased with Henry that when I spotted the domain 'norman23.co.uk' on 123-reg, I was fired with enthusiasm to create a blog as a tribute to her.
I'll just zip up my anorak and go then...