Browne - Narrow escape: a year of high and lows on the narrow boat Minerva

NARROW ESCAPE

Marie Browne

Oh, you live on a boat? That must be really cold in the winter... Or, Oh, you live on a boat? It must be great being so close to nature... Or, Oh, you live on a boat? It must be fantastic to be able to go wherever you like, whenever you like...

Narrow Escape sets out to dispel these commonly held public myths.

From how to avoid assassination by ninja stealth ducklings, through definitive proof that kittens are aliens and the best way to sleep at forty-five degrees, to the importance of having the right boating equipment; (a childs plastic sledge and a never ending supply of cotton wool balls). This month by month account of one familys liveaboard year takes a firmly tongue in cheek look at what it takes to enjoy the idyllic lifestyle.

Published by Accent Press Ltd 2013

ISBN 9781783755196

Copyright Marie Browne 2013

The right of Marie Browne to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon, CF45 4SN

Over the last five years I have had so many people ask me what its really like to live on a narrow boat. Not to travel around getting into various scrapes (our paintwork shows that weve had enough of those), but the ins and outs of coping with kids, school runs, work, illness, and all the other bits and pieces that come with twenty-first-century living.

The first thing everybody says, as soon as they find out where I live is, Ooo I bet thats cold in the winter! It always amazes me; there are so many more issues to living on a boat than the temperature.

This is not a travel book. Unlike Narrow Margins and Narrow Minds we dont have a new boat, were not facing locks and, for once, we arent intent on trying to sink ourselves (nature has taken on that job). Narrow Escape is a month by month, tongue in cheek account of living within a restricted space, on a restricted budget, and of our attempts to inject a sense of normality into our childrens lives.

2012 wasnt that good for those afloat, especially in Cambridgeshire. The weather was, at times, extreme to say the least. Floods, high winds, snow, unempathic landowners, and panicked wildlife all took their toll this year. I have to admit I hope never to go through another like it.

Those that already live aboard will recognise many of the adversities that nature tends to throw at those who reside on water. For those that may be thinking of indulging in this lifestyle, dont panic; I can assure you that this year has been one like no other. Yes, if you choose to live aboard an elderly fixer upper with children you may well face every single situation described within its pages. However, I can only hope that you never have to face them all within one twelve month period. Let me say again, this year has been EXCEPTIONAL.

I hope you enjoy spending a year with our family, friends and all the other elements that make up this odd life of ours.

Happy boating and dont forget, pirate coffee costs less than a session with a therapist.

Marie x

January Brings The Snow. Im Feeling Like An Eskimo.

MUM!

I jumped at the shout. Intent on giving our fire desperate CPR, I obviously hadnt heard my youngest trying to get my attention.

What? I yelled down the boat at him, Im a bit busy at the moment. Ignoring the muttering from behind me I turned back to my sulking log burner. I cant believe I made such a damn rookie mistake. I poked at it and grimaced as my fledgling fire collapsed into a puff of sparks and cinders. Oh, for goodness sake.

Whats the matter Mum? Sam, still yawning and dressed in pyjamas, three jumpers, and a lot of socks, had wandered down to see what all the swearing was about.

I jumped and hit my head on the blackened door of the log burner. Jaaagghh! was all I managed.

Sam winced and took a step back. That wasnt my fault, he said.

I never said it was. I sat on the floor and picked up my morning coffee, it wasnt very warm but, compared to the temperature in the boat, it was the closest thing I had to a hot water bottle. I stared up at the ceiling. My repeated unsuccessful attempts to light the fire had merely created rolling clouds of smoke that, hovering at ceiling height, effectively sliced the boat in two.

Im freezing. Sam stared at the cold, black fire for a moment. Why is the fire out?

I stared into my coffee cup and took a deep breath. Although I was fairly sure that screaming and throwing bits of wood around would warm me up, it would be a temporary solution at best. Taking a deep breath, I went back to chopping the wet kindling into the longest and thinnest slivers I could. Its out because I didnt put enough coal on it last night. I was being lazy and didnt want to go out into the snow for a new bag so I hoped Id put on enough to make it last.

Never put off till tomorrow what you can mess up today. Sam solemnly intoned one of my favourite sayings.

I had to laugh. Yes, thank you Sam, I said. It would be a lot faster if I had some firelighters but Ive run out of those as well, so maybe I should just concentrate on what Im doing. I turned to give him my patent now is not the time for daft questions look. Unfortunately, my teeth were chattering so hard Im fairly sure all he got was a somewhat surprised look. He got the message anyway and scarpered.

Thirty seconds later he was back.

I sighed and turned again as he poked me in the shoulder. Sam honey, I cant do this with you sitting like a monkey on my back

He held his hand out. Curious, I took what he was offering. I was now the proud possessor of a handful of cotton wool balls.

Very nice dear. I put the fluffy balls on the floor and wondered if the cold had finally leeched into his brain, I know I was finding thinking difficult.

He picked them up and handed them to me again. Use these instead of firelighters, he said.

I stared at them for a moment and then put them down again. I dont think so, Sam. I turned back to the fire.

I saw it on telly. He piled them up into a little pyramid on the carpet. They were showing you how to light a fire outside. They said that cotton wool was an excellent fire starter.

I peered up at him from where I sat on the floor. He didnt seem to be having a laugh.

He picked them up and handed them to me with a grin. Go on, Mum, he said. Can we just see what happens?

I shrugged. Well, I might as well give it a go, nothing else Id tried so far had worked and, at the very least, hed learn that you cant trust everything you see on the goggle box.

Sam leant toward me and whispered in my ear. You can also use erm he shuffled and looked around, obviously worried that somehow we had become a magnet for crowds of people eager to move away from their central heating and live in the frozen wastes of Cambridgeshire, Those towel things.

Huh? I had visions of setting fire to my tea towels. Actually, if this didnt work that might actually be a solution.

You know, the ones women use. He gave me a sage look, raising his eyebrows and nodding at me in an effort to get me to understand without having to use the actual words.

Really? I removed all the charred sticks from the fire bed and dumped the woolly balls in a pile. Carefully covering them in tiny splinters and bits of twig I took a deep breath and struck a match. Firmly quashing the temptation to hold my hands over it for a moment I held the flaming piece of wood out toward him. Do you want to do this, Mr Wilderness Wizz?