Napton to Fenny Compton, 9 miles, 8 locks
It was glorious weather when I got up to go to the loo early this morning, but a bit misty by the time we actually set off. That was fine, though, because the sun was shining and it was warm and dry, so perfect lock weather. After a quick Elsan stop (told you the loo filled quickly with two aboard) we were in Napton Bottom lock. The Napton locks are narrow as you'd expect, but unlike at Hillmorton, they're only single locks, shared by both directions. They're also a lot like the Trent and Mersey locks in that when the water rushes into the lock, even though its from ground paddles, the current is such that it slams the boat into the top gate unless it is restrained by full reverse (in Oothoon's case) or a rope. Having perfected my technique in Atherstone, I was ready with the rope, but the lock approaches largely aren't suitable for jumping off, being too wide. In practice we did all variants of me staying in the boat and trying to control everything with the engine, jumping on the roof before the boat got all the way in, climbing the ladder, jumping onto the lock rim and getting Paul to wrap the centre rope around a bollard. It passed the time. Worth mentioning also are the crew of the boat behind, who were numerous enough to be able to walk forward and help with the locking much of the time.
Eventually we popped out of the top lock and went round the corner to moor and enjoy a delicious lunch of Herr Aldi's 'bake it yourself' Chiabatta, stuffed with Tesco reduced price Mozzarella balls, sliced tomato and Tesco's 'cutting my own throat' Pesto, which seems far nicer than the usual stuff, being quite coarse with chunky bits of basil, garlic and pine nut in suspension.
The weather had brightened up as we went through the locks and it continued to be superb as we headed for Fenny Compton. There was almost no traffic on the canal, with everyone vegging out by their boats and lapping up the unexpected late sunshine, which was a golden opporunity to appreciate what a lovely canal the Oxford is. I was a bit concerned that we didn't seem to be making a lot of progress and the engine seemed to be getting hot, and in the end it got so bad that I couldn't ignore it any longer, so it was up with the back deck and off with the weed hatch. I hate doing this at the best of times, largely because my arms are too short to reach into the weed hatch by lying on the deck and also because I'm too large to squeeze into the hole in the back deck to get near the weed hatch. In the end I somehow managed it, but could only get one hand down into the freezing cold murky water. As you might expect there was plenty wrapped round there, including the ubiquitous blue Nylon rope. I got most of it off, partially thanks to a nasty-looking one-handed saw I bought in Wilkinson's when I was buying the LED light back in Coventry. There's still a bit of blue rope wrapped around the prop shaft, but it's loose and I can't reach it to get it off. Anyone would think it was tied on.
'Weeds' removed, we got on a lot better. getting to Fenny Compton just before schedule at 6pm and actually finding a mooring spot. After lighting the fire, dinner was a proper "Sunday" roast chicken dinner, with potatoes, neeps'n'carrots, leeks in cheese sauce, cauliflower, broccoli, home-made Yorkshire puddings, stuffing balls and lovely gravy made from cauli/broccoli water and the juices from the chicken. I do make a fantastic traditional Sunday dinner, even if I do say so myself, and there's loads of left-over vegetables and chicken which should keep us going tomorrow.
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