Adrift

plenty of room to drift

The morning was cool and damp as we pulled away from the water sports centre. We had to weave past the scullers who were out en bloc practising for this afternoons competition. A mile from the lock into the Nottingham canal Paul lost power and the engine cut out. We were adrift in midstream with speedy scullers likely to appear any moment. Paul lifted the rear deck and undid the weed hatch. The water was clear and he could see a thick rope wound tightly around his prop. Paul couldn’t budge it so resorted to attacking it with his leatherman multi bladeknife.

Return to Nottingham

Castle mound from the canal

Fellows and Morton historic canal haulage

Meanwhile the boat had turned to face the bank and slowly drifted towards it. Two scullers speeded round the corner. As they scull backwards they were unaware of us blocking their path. Normally powered boats keep out the way but they kept up the pace. I yelled and waved and one realised we were in the way and warned the other who was bearing down on us fast. Lucky had nosed onto a silt bank but the sculler squeezed between the bank and boat giving us a snooty look as he passed. At least he didn’t damage his boat by ramming into us.


a Nottingham canal bridge

Paul shifted the rope, nylon canvas bag and other smaller flotsam and re-secured the weed hatch. Deck back down the engine started first time and seemed non the worse for the obstruction which turned out to be a rescue rope that they used in the Water Sports Centre. Paul reversed off the sand bank and straightened the boat before the next bunch of rowers appeared. We cruised past the county hall and Trent Bridge cricket ground then headed for the lock as it started to drizzle. We put our coats on but the rain had stopped by the time I prepared the lock.

peaceful canal near the centre

A small cruiser joined us as our boat entered the lock and the children worked the lock with expertise. They were local and gave advice on where to moor on the river Soar where we might visit on our way back. We moored near the castle so Paul could top up our provisions. As we carried on we passed the boat we had towed near Castle Marina. Shortly afterwards we met the friend of the stricken boat on his own narrow boat heading out to get parts to repair the broken gearbox. At least they made it onto the canal section before it finally died. We had a peaceful cruise down to the Cranfleet cut just short of the junction with the river Soar. The only other boat heading in our direction was a canoeist who swiftly overtook and disappeared into the distance.