Narrow Dog to Carcassonne by Terry Darlington Page B
Authors: Terry Darlington
Tags: Biography
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the next day with an escort boat. Sixteen hours to Ramsgate, six hours across the Channel. With two narrowboats it will cost you half as much, and it’s safer. You can have any level of support from me you want, except the Rolls-Royce option. There is no Rolls-Royce option.
Do you think I’m crazy? I asked. If you want to go up the Matterhorn, said the Principal, you can go over it in a plane, you can go up it in a cable car, or you can climb it. It depends what sort of experience you want, how close in you want to get—I know which I would prefer.
They tell me I can’t get insurance, I said. Write and explain, said the Principal—you never know. You’ll find a short-range radio operator certificate useful. You might look at a nautical almanac. I had not heard of nautical almanacs but supposed they gave you the lucky days for sailing.
I rang Clive—I think we’re on! You see, he said, I told you so—it is a question of patience and finding a way. He explained about patience and finding a way, and why people from Dudley were particularly patient and always found a way. He rang early next morning to explain again, and make whooping noises. All night long he had been out at sea.
IN 1771 THE TRENT AND MERSEY CANAL REACHED Stone, and the Star Inn was soon built alongside. In 1777 the boatyard in Stone was opened. Like much of the town it is built of red brick, smaller than we build these days. It was made without art, and it is very beautiful. At half past three the setting sun washed the walls with flame.
We had known Peter and his wife Karen since they were children, a long time ago. In the office of Canal Cruising there was room for them both and Monica and me and a telephone and a jar of instant coffee. There was no room for Jim or for Jim’s best friend, the boatyard lurcher, but they were there anyway, wrestling on the floor, growling horribly.
Beans? said Peter—you want us to fill your boat with beans? Any particular sort of beans? Baked beans? Broad beans? Perhaps runner beans? suggested Karen. No no, I said, let me explain. If a narrowboat is out at sea the weak spot is the front deck, because it is low down and enclosed at the sides. If the waves fill it we will sink, so we have to enlarge the drain holes. But if we enlarge the drain holes we could fill up from the drain holes. But I have the answer—we fill the front deck to the top with those little foam beans they use in parcels, and cover it over with a net. Then it will never fill with water—how could it?
The lurcher had won the wrestling match and had licked Jim all over and was starting to swallow him. Peter leaned down to pull them apart. That’s a very good idea, Terry, he said, and I am surprised it is not standard practice. But we are only an inland yard and it may be a bit advanced for us. Tell you what, I’ll put a removable wooden deck on the front to keep the water out and see what you think. Oh all right, I said, but if you run into trouble call on me and I’ll help with the beans.
And look, asked Monica, would you like to come across the Channel with us? You have been so good and you might like the ride. And you can change a belt or mend the engine if things go wrong—Terry is so helpless.
Peter is a big chap and when he laughs, which is often, it is a seismic event. As we walked back up through the town cracks were appearing in the pavement.
At home the phone rang. It was Beryl. She and Clive were not coming. She had decided they couldn’t take the risk of losing their boat.
It’s their home, said Monica, and all their things—it’s everything they’ve got.
We felt numb and lonely and afraid. But the adventure was all ours now, if we wanted it.
THE GENTLEMAN ACROSS THE TABLE WAS GOING down eight miles south of the Great Orme. But I had spotted him.
Pan pan seelonce
, I said slowly into the microphone.
Yacht sinkerman in fairisle jumper on deck waving. Sinkerman repeat Mayday. All ships all ships,
Do you think I’m crazy? I asked. If you want to go up the Matterhorn, said the Principal, you can go over it in a plane, you can go up it in a cable car, or you can climb it. It depends what sort of experience you want, how close in you want to get—I know which I would prefer.
They tell me I can’t get insurance, I said. Write and explain, said the Principal—you never know. You’ll find a short-range radio operator certificate useful. You might look at a nautical almanac. I had not heard of nautical almanacs but supposed they gave you the lucky days for sailing.
I rang Clive—I think we’re on! You see, he said, I told you so—it is a question of patience and finding a way. He explained about patience and finding a way, and why people from Dudley were particularly patient and always found a way. He rang early next morning to explain again, and make whooping noises. All night long he had been out at sea.
IN 1771 THE TRENT AND MERSEY CANAL REACHED Stone, and the Star Inn was soon built alongside. In 1777 the boatyard in Stone was opened. Like much of the town it is built of red brick, smaller than we build these days. It was made without art, and it is very beautiful. At half past three the setting sun washed the walls with flame.
We had known Peter and his wife Karen since they were children, a long time ago. In the office of Canal Cruising there was room for them both and Monica and me and a telephone and a jar of instant coffee. There was no room for Jim or for Jim’s best friend, the boatyard lurcher, but they were there anyway, wrestling on the floor, growling horribly.
Beans? said Peter—you want us to fill your boat with beans? Any particular sort of beans? Baked beans? Broad beans? Perhaps runner beans? suggested Karen. No no, I said, let me explain. If a narrowboat is out at sea the weak spot is the front deck, because it is low down and enclosed at the sides. If the waves fill it we will sink, so we have to enlarge the drain holes. But if we enlarge the drain holes we could fill up from the drain holes. But I have the answer—we fill the front deck to the top with those little foam beans they use in parcels, and cover it over with a net. Then it will never fill with water—how could it?
The lurcher had won the wrestling match and had licked Jim all over and was starting to swallow him. Peter leaned down to pull them apart. That’s a very good idea, Terry, he said, and I am surprised it is not standard practice. But we are only an inland yard and it may be a bit advanced for us. Tell you what, I’ll put a removable wooden deck on the front to keep the water out and see what you think. Oh all right, I said, but if you run into trouble call on me and I’ll help with the beans.
And look, asked Monica, would you like to come across the Channel with us? You have been so good and you might like the ride. And you can change a belt or mend the engine if things go wrong—Terry is so helpless.
Peter is a big chap and when he laughs, which is often, it is a seismic event. As we walked back up through the town cracks were appearing in the pavement.
At home the phone rang. It was Beryl. She and Clive were not coming. She had decided they couldn’t take the risk of losing their boat.
It’s their home, said Monica, and all their things—it’s everything they’ve got.
We felt numb and lonely and afraid. But the adventure was all ours now, if we wanted it.
THE GENTLEMAN ACROSS THE TABLE WAS GOING down eight miles south of the Great Orme. But I had spotted him.
Pan pan seelonce
, I said slowly into the microphone.
Yacht sinkerman in fairisle jumper on deck waving. Sinkerman repeat Mayday. All ships all ships,
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