Saturday 30 November 2013

Another Trip Dowm Memory Lane

This time to Huntingdonshire-or Cambridgeshire as it's called nowadays- God knows why-to collect a satellite dish from a man in St Ives. Secondhand for 40 quid. The dish not the man I don't know why. I've been moored at Cowroast, either in the marina or on my current online mooring, for over 30 years and never got a decent tv picture either through the traditional aeriel or satellite dish. The last satellite dish went in the skip accompanied by some irreverent language-never got a thing out of it. Anyway whilst I watch very little television I thought with Winter fast approaching I would try again.
So in the company of Mike C, on a rare appearance in the UK, I set off for St Ives. My second boat, Llamedos, was kept upriver at Huntingdon  for 5 years (1978-82?) so I fancied a drive round some of the old haunts.
First thing that has definitely improved is the journey. The road to Huntingdon being at least half hour less than 30 years back.
St Ives seemed much bigger and busier than I recall with a proper supermarket and all. After collecting the Satellite Dish we went into St Ives centre.  The Town Square was chockers with cars but we got a spot eventually and wandered down by the river where there is a beautiful bridge. I remembered an excellent pub "The Oliver Cromwell" from days gone by and it's still excellent with no noxious music, barmaids to die for, a good range of beers (sodding car!) and a fish pie most scoffworthy.  The entertainment was provided by the local swans who having harrassed the traffic on the bridge then sauntered down to the pub for a gander or whatever the swan equivalent of a gander is.A swander perhaps.........




The Bad 'Ole Baste
The Oliver Cromwell



Mike C leaves and barmaid looks longingly through window

St Ives Bridge

Looking north from the bridge

Houghton Mill
Cromwell was educated at Huntingdon Grammar (now a museum) and lived and farmed in St Ives. Antonia Fraser in her biography of the Bad Old Baste as my Irish Mother referred to him tells the tale of how one Sunday afternoon the young Oliver fell in the River Gt Ouse at St Ives and was pulled out by a young curate who was visiting the Cromwells. Fraser tells how many years later Cromwell was leading his troops  across Huntingdon Bridge and saw the now aging priest at the side of the road. Reigning in his horse he enquired "Do you remember me Sir?" to which the priest allegedly replied "I do and I wish I had put you back" History does not say what happened to him,if anything, but my mum would have agreed with him.
After that to Houghton Mill, The Hemingfords, Huntingdon itself where amazingly the house and boatyard still remain in a state of disrepair, Offord Cluny (where the pub is the Swan-should be the George (gettit?) and St Neots. Good times remembered and a pleasant day out. Oh and what a tv  picture. A major success. Just got to wait a couple of years for a decent programme.....

More deer (deerer?) await at Ashridge  the following day. Might be muntjac, might be Chinese deer-I dunno never did O level Deer but got very close to what I thought was half a dozen and was getting closer when a bunch of yellow hazard jacketed people came tramping through the woods and scared the wotsit out of them. They took off at a hell of a lick and suddenly there was a herd of about 30 to 40 who had been there all along. They'd probably been watching me all the time thinking this noisy sod thinks we don't know he's there.
Anyway too far away and too slow to get a decent photo so here's my best efforts.  According to the wonder that is Wikpedia the muntjac is the oldest deer at between 15 and 30 million years old. Amazing that they could move so fast.

Wednesday and off to Bristol to pick up Ollie who is home for a couple of days before starting his new job in France. I have combined this small removal job with a trip to Chewton Mendip in Somerset where I have stayed at the excellent Copper Beeches many times before and yet am allowed back. I am joined by Adrian for the trip and we are meeting Peter B who is travelling up from Exeter. Apart from being a very good B & B Copper Beeches is also a 2 minute walk from the Waldegrave Arms-as fine a pub as you'll encounter. We three met there at lunchtime and after a light lunch headed into Wells, the smallest city in the country and deserving of a longer visit. A future venue for a cultural visit no doubt.
In the evening after Ady had his afternoon nap we adjourned to the pub where we allowed ourselves a third pint to accompany dinner. I started with smoked salmon and finished with homemade faggots. Very balanced.
Thursday and off to Bristol. We aren't due to pick up Ollie till after 3pm so a trip to SS Great Britain is planned. I've been before with Pam and Joseph but still enjoyed the experience-there is a lot to learn.


And here's your chance......skip it if you're bored....
The wrought iron steamship was built in 1843 in Bristol, under the supervision of Brunel for the Great Western Steamship Company. The Great Britain set the design standards for today’s modern shipping and eminently demonstrated the industry and inventiveness of the Victorian era. Almost single-handedly Brunel shaped the future of mass passenger travel and international communications.

Originally conceived as a paddle steamer, her design was quickly altered to take advantage of the new technology of screw propulsion, and her engines were converted to power a massive sixteen foot iron propeller. When launched in 1843 she was by far the largest ship in the world, at almost 100 metres she was over 30 metres longer than her nearest rival, and was the first screw propelled, ocean-going, wrought iron ship. Weighing in at a massive 1930 tons, she was designed initially for the Trans-Atlantic luxury passenger trade, and could carry 252 first and second class passengers and crew of 130.
Whilst her first few voyages demonstrated her technological ability, they were not a great financial success, attracting far fewer passengers than anticipated. Her career in this trade was thus short lived, and after she ran aground on the sands of Dundrum Bay in Northern Ireland in 1846, her engines were so badly damaged that she was sold on.
Under Gibbs Bright and Co, the ship prospered. The new owners took advantage of the increase in emigration caused by the Australian gold rush, and re-built the ship as an emigrant carrier, taking people to Australia. With a new upper deck added and a new engine fitted, she could now transport 750 passengers in three classes.
Over the next 24 years and 32 voyages she carried over 16,000 emigrants to Australia, and was known in her time as one of the fastest, most elegant and luxurious emigrant clipper ships – the ‘Greyhound of the seas’.

The average time she took on the return journey to Australia was 120 days - very competitive for the mid-19th century. Passage on the ss Great Britain could virtually guarantee that a passenger would arrive on time, well ahead of any sail powered rivals.
As meat went off easily on these long voyages, large numbers of live animals were carried for food, giving the ship the appearance of Noah's Ark rather than an emigrant ship. On one voyage in 1859, the ship carried 133 live sheep, 38 pigs, 2 bullocks, 1 cow, 420 fowl, 300 ducks, 400 geese and 30 turkeys. Passenger diaries record the ship as smelling and sounding like a barnyard!
Between 1854 and 1855 she was chartered by the Government to carry troops to and from the Crimean War, and over the course of the conflict transported over 44,000 troops.
Following the war she was rebuilt yet again before being chartered by the Government for further troop transportation duties, carrying the 17th Lancers and 8th Hussars to the Indian Mutiny.
In 1861, for a marginally less serious conflict, the Great Britain also carried the first ever English cricket side to tour Australia. The tour was immensely successful with a 15,000 crowd attending the opening match at Melbourne. The tourists played 12 games in all, winning 6, drawing 4 and losing 2.
And bad news could often follow glad news, such as when the onboard newspaper the ‘Great Britain Times’ reported death of the pet koala bear belonging to the ship’s carpenter. Apparently the marsupial died of ‘pulmonary consumption’ on 25 October 1865, much to the sadness of crew and passengers.
One of the ship’s more eccentric captains, Captain Gray, climbed each mast at least once a week and interrupted one voyage to Australia to claim the uninhabited island of St. Martin for the Empire. He held a banquet that evening to celebrate.
SS Great Britain int. courtesy of the ss Great Britain Trust
SS Great Britain cabin courtesy of the ss Great Britain Trust
Photographs courtesy of the ss Great Britain Trust and some bald bloke with a camera thingy

By the late 1870’s the Great Britain was showing her age, her engines were removed, and she was converted into a fast three-masted sailing ship. In this unrecognisable guise, the once proud ship transported Welsh coal to San Francisco. On her third trip, however, she ran into trouble around Cape Horn, and was forced to run for shelter in Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands. Damaged as a result of this, she was sold as a coal and wool storage hulk in Port Stanley.
In all the Great Britain had 25 accidents entered in her logs – ranging from collisions with other vessels, running aground, lost spars and mast damage, to losing that eccentric Captain Gray in mysterious circumstances.
She remained in Port Stanley through the First World War, with coal from her hold helping to replenish the battle cruisers Inflexible and Invincible before the decisive battle of the Falkland Islands on 7 December 1914, in which the armoured cruisers Gneisenau and Scharnhorst and light cruisers Nurnberg and Leipzig were sunk.
By 1937 the Great Britain’s hull was no longer watertight, and after being towed a short distance from Port Stanley, she was beached and abandoned to the elements.
Attempts to rescue her in the late 1930’s and 1960’s failed, but finally in 1970 an epic salvage effort refloated the ship, and she was towed back home across the Atlantic to Bristol.
Despite spending nearly 100 years suffering in the harsh South Atlantic weather, the Great Britain was able to float up the River Avon herself! After covering over a million miles, Brunel’s 155 year old iron hull had stood the test of time superbly.
Following yet another refit, this time costing in the region of £11.3 million, Brunel’s ss Great Britain was re-launched as one of the world’s most important maritime museums in 2005. For further details visit www.ssgreatbritain.org.

.........................I'll be asking questions later








Afterwards in order to kill some time Peter insisted on going to a pub he knew, the Rose of Denmark, where I had one of the best and most imaginative Ploughman's ever-Salami Milano, Smoked trout and French Goat's Cheese. Most pleasant. Afterwhich we bade farewell to Peter.

To Ollie's where his highly trained team soon loaded the car with an enthusiasm that suggested a gladness to see the back of him. Nice to see Nat and Jo cheering as we reversed at high speed down Lancaster Road doing the statutory wheely whilst the neighbours pelted us with fruit and sped off for downtown Berkhamsted.  Home by 8 via a tincture at the Lamb and dived headlong into Pam's excellent Cottage Pie.Job done.

A Footnote to the last posting. Avid readers will recall the last post was about my visit to Norfolk to commemorate 40 years since buying Broad Wave for 850 quid from the defunct Clifford E Allen yard at Coltishall. Adrian has done further research since our trip and has found the following link ;

 http://www.broadlandyachtbrokers.co.uk/used-boats/used/7/

which shows a splendidly refurbished Broad Wave 40 years later up for sale at 24k plus. I think another trip is called for. Such fun. 

But before then we have the Feast of Christmas. First Sunday of Advent tomorrow followed by Cowroast Boaters' Gathering next Saturday. So much to do and so little time.......until then, a bientot

Thursday 21 November 2013

Down Memory Lane......

Friday 15th November.
By my reckoning it's 40 years today since Broad Wave II, the first boat,  was purchased from Clifford Allen's yard at Coltishall, Norfolk.
So today, in the company of Ady, Geoff J, Mike P and Norman the Gnome, I set off for Norfolk for a weekend of nostalgia.


Cowroast Sunrise
A beautiful day with no cloud in the sky the drive to Norfolk goes well apart from the constant bleating of certain passengers about stopping for tea, coffee, bacon sandwiches, cake, biscuits and anything else that's going. And we aint past Hemel Hempstead yet!

We are staying in Wroxham in a riverside cottage and very nice too.
A Bedroom each and three loos!


Obviously Norman took this one which not only explains why he isn't in it but also the angle of the shot.



I took this one because Norman wanted to be in it


 First port of call is the King's Head which has certainly altered from 35 years ago and apart from the usual gawdawful music piped out to people who aren't listening to it, is quite pleasant. The planning meeting decides that we settle in to the cottage, have a wander, grab fish and chips and watch the first half of England v Chile before adjourning to the KH for the second half.. A perfect plan except England were not very good and the Chileans were. 0-2. and we were lucky to get 0.

The view from the living room-lots of boats and little harbours
Saturday morning we\re off to Aylsham and the Bure Valley Railway

Quick! One of the antiques has escaped1

And another one! This time with Norman


Lovely little narrow gauge railway-you want to put the engine in your pocket.

(Please see Appendix regarding track guages)


Adrian and I on the site of Clifford Allen's yard
Then on to Coltishall where 40 years ago stood Clifford E Allen's boatyard. The whole hire fleet was up for sale and 850 quid bought Broad Wave II. The yard was then demolished and a very pleasant riverside development was built. The nearby Anchor pub was turned into a house. Crying shame.Lovely pub. No wonder this country's so bloody miserable with all the pubs shut and everybody staying indoors trying to work out why they're so fed up.When I'm Queen all the houses that were once pubs will have to revert to their former self and everybody must visit at least 10 pubs a year or be shot. I'll make the sods happy even if they don't want to be.

The Reach at Horning

Turners Yard, Horning
After Coltishall we went back past Wroxham to Horning where Broad Wave was moored for 5 years at Turner's Yard, owned by Dennis George.A nice man who could surgically remove the contents of your wallet without you knowing.

A couple of ne'erdowells look round Turners Yard
No longer a boatyard but a private house and we had a scamper round having established there was nobody at home. For some of the time back in the 70s we were moored on the opposite side of the river up a dike as the call the call them in Norfolk and on arrival late on a Friday night had to row across in the pitch dark to find the boat. Amazingly only one person ever fell in. Sorry about that Ady.

The real entertainment came on a Sunday morning (and I think still does) when all the local yachtsmen were out on Horning Reach which coincided with loads of hire boats arriving from Wroxham having taken command on the Saturday.
Marvelous sport to sit in the Swan Hotel and watch relationships fall apart and insurance excess deposits disappear. After a shufty round the yard and a peek at the Ferry Inn (now looks very ordinary) we retired to the New Inn in Horning Village. Changed a bit since my days up there but very pleasant and Norman enjoyed it.








Only one cruiser and no yachts on the Reach. Wait till the Spring!

Southern Comfort-built in the 70s and looking good.It is now moored outside the Swan at H Reach but I'm sure used to be outside Hotel Wroxham





After Horning we headed off to Ranworth Broad and the Maltsters pub. The pub used to have a very attractive bar shaped like the bows of a boat but it has all been revamped and whilst it is very pleasant it lacks the individuality of before. Grub was good and service fine.

Norman loved it especially as he was allowed to wear my cap. Not sure about Geoff.

Enough sightseeing for one day so back to the cottage for a wash and brush up and listen to the rugby-England v The All Blacks. Not on TV of course unless you want to give the Dodgy Aussie loads of dosh. When I'm Queen all major sports will be on the BBC and Sky can have all the bloody cookery programmes (except Master Chef as Pam likes that) and silly property programmes.
In the evening we went to the King's Head which boasted a carvery for 6 quid. Excellent value.Just get rid of the music and it's a good pub.







Sunday-not the brightest of days but the gulls and herons are waiting for breakfast










Then we're off to Neatishead, a delightful little village with moorings off Barton Broad and memories of the Summer of '76 when the tarmac bubbled and the varnish on the boat's  wheel melted. 100 degrees on a couple of days and we tookthe Aussies to the sword in the Ashes series. what a great time.



Then off to Ludham-another frequent stop years ago and totally unchanged.

Then we set off for Potter Heigham where the bridge over the river is very low. During my time there the hire companies brought in an arrangement whereby if you wanted to go through the bridge you stopped and picked up a pilot. If it was your own boat you could chance it without the pilot and I got pretty good at judging the job. Potter Heigham used to have two pubs and not a lot else. Now it has one pub and lots of fast food places. sad.


The Staithe at Ludham


Looks pretty low to me



Looks as low from the other side-funny that






Ady enjoys yet another pastry whilst the tree behind him indicates that the world has gone mad.
When I'm Queen anyone putting up Christmas decorations or playing Christmas "music" in shops or pubs before the first Sunday of Advent will be immersed in a giant bowl of custard and servfed at a free meal for the poor and confused. The tree is in a shop in Potter Heigham called Lathams.. By my estimate it will take 7 lockfulls of custard.

The Pleasure Boat Inn Hickling Broad

Hickling Broad, still unspoilt, a nature reserve where powered craft are not allowed over the Winter months and many are dissuaded by the low Potter Heigham bridge during the Summer. It is the last place I sailed a yacht.

A Hickling Resident






After Hickling Broad we went to Horsey Mere which is in spitting distance of the sea. It is also within spitting distance of The Admiral Nelson, the best pub of the weekend where we had an excellent lunch. A bracing walk round the mere and on to Sea Palling by the sea. I recalled that when on the beach in '76 a couple of coppers on bikes came by telling people to get covered up because the local hospital was inundated with sunstroke cases. No chance today. Brrrrr.








The local Mafia head into Sea Palling led by Don Miguel di Payne


The sea is out there somewhere through the mist. I don't know who the old drunk is lying on the beach.A local said it was Albert Ross
The weather closed in so we implemented the only option open to seafarers who are afeared of the curse of the Albert Ross.We went back to Wroxham and immersed ourselves in curry. Ady had a Phall curry. He was first up next morning. Up and ready to depart by 9 30 and apart from the enforced stop because the crew hadn't eaten for nearly 20 minutes had a good journey back in the rain.

Some photos from the past.


Rock on. Enough for now.

Appendix

Railroad  tracks. 
 
The US standard railroad gauge (distance between the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches. That's an  exceedingly odd number.  
  Why was that gauge used?  Because that's the way they built them in Scotland, and Scottish expatriates designed the US railroads.  
  Why did the Scottish build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the pre-railroad  Tramways,  and that's the gauge they  used.  
  Why did 'they' use that gauge then?  Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they had  used for building wagons, which used  that wheel spacing.  
  Why did the wagons have that particularly odd wheel  spacing?  Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the  wagon wheels would break on some of the old, long distance roads in Scotland,  because that's the spacing of the wheel  ruts.  
  So  who built those old rutted roads?  Imperial Rome  built the first long distance roads in Europe (including   Scotland) for their legions. Those roads have been used  ever since.  
  And the ruts in the roads?  Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts,  which everyone else had to match for  fear  of destroying their wagon  wheels..  Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing. Therefore the United States standard  railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman  War  chariot.
  So  the next time you are handed a  specification/procedure/process and wonder, 'What  horse's ass came up with this?', you may be exactly right. Imperial Roman army chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the rear ends of two war horses. (Two horses'  asses.)  Now, the twist to the story:  
  When you see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch  pad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank.  These are solid rocket boosters, or  SRBs.  The SRBs are made by Thiokol at  their  factory in   Utah.  The engineers who designed the SRBs  would have preferred to make them a  bit  fatter, but the SRBs had to be shipped  by train from the factory to the launch site.  The railroad line from the factory happens  to run through a tunnel in the mountains, and  the SRBs had to fit through that tunnel. The tunnel  s slightly wider than the railroad track,  and  the railroad track, as you now know, is about as wide as two horses'  behinds.  
  So, a major Space Shuttle design feature  of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of two horses' asses. And you thought being a horse's ass wasn't important? Ancient horses' asses control almost everything..

I know it's been a while and soooo many of you have asked when will I write another blog. My answer to both of them is here it is. My la...