Return to White Water

north of Nottingham

After lunch Paul took Lottie for a walk across the fields in case we have trouble finding mooring again. Soon after we set off we came upon a narrow boat close to the shore on the left. With a sense of déjà-vu I saw a lady was crossing and uncrossing her arms in the air. This is obviously the code foe lady in distress as the men each time stand watching. The engine had failed and they had drifted onto a sandbank. The engine had restarted, though it sounded terrible as though a handful of bolts were rolling around in a washing machine, but they were stuck fast.

Turning round the gate

This rescue was more difficult than the last. We had to get close enough to pass ropes over but without getting stuck ourselves and our boat is only 40 foot, not ideal for pulling a larger vessel out of the mud. Paul tried pulling the stern off first but nearly got sucked onto the sand too. He then tried pulling the front at an angle to keep Lucky in deep water. With the other boaters pushing away with their barge pole we managed to pull them free. We then followed them through the next two locks. We moored up at the National Water Sports Centre and they carried on hoping to reach Nottingham where a friend would have transport to get parts for the repairs.

At the centre canoes were tacking the white water slalom course, and competition heats were under way on the rowing lake. It was interesting watching not only the races but also how each boat had to warm up by working up to the start. Some boats took it gently, others practised their sprint starts. Each race was accompanied by a power boat which seemed too close to the race it was following.

Singles heats

Paul thought he’d be exhausted by the time he reached the start with nothing left for the race but rowers are fit. As each race unfolded ardent supporters would hurtle down the cycle track screaming encouragement at the boats. Could the competitors hear the encouragements meant for them amid the uproar? Amazingly the pairs chatted about tactics as they headed to the start and the coxes of the fours bullied their crew about stroke length as they headed to the start. Although nearby our boat was insulated from the noise by a bank so we enjoyed a quiet dinner.