The awfulness of boats, then and now

Kukri

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Frank Holden’s thread on the “En Avant” set me thinking. I certainly owned and sailed at least one truly awful boat. But she was, at least, a boat.

It was a good working rule that the further up an estuary you went, the more awful the boats became, and if you got as far as fresh water they became truly ghastly.
 
It was a good working rule that the further up an estuary you went, the more awful the boats became, and if you got as far as fresh water they became truly ghastly.


The Medina, Yar, Dart, Fal, Morlaix, Jaudy, etc., etc., would all seem to support your theory.

Not the Thames though!
 
I seem to recall that as a small boy living in Hampton Wick there was a collection of rather grim boats just upriver of Kingston Bridge. But that was almost sixty years ago.


Goodness me you're out of date; they're proper Ghoul Boats between Kingston and Weybridge today ?

That said, putt-putt up towards Henley and it turns all la-dee-daa once more ?
 
That said, putt-putt up towards Henley and it turns all la-dee-daa once more ?

Accidentally caused quite a panic one year at Henley (other than just for the usual metal v GRP reasons). I was making pastrami in my well deck green egg smoker while mooring up, minding my own business. Next thing I know there are people running around with fire extinguishers.
 
First Mate and I would often walk our dogs by Abingdon lock. One time we were lucky enough to catch a chap in - IIRC - a Leeds and Liverpool short boat. He was to explore the European Inland Waterways, had dropped down the GU to Brentford and then up the Thames, before going back down and crossing the Channel.. His boat was 60X14 feet, canvas hatch covers over the cargo space, boatmans cabin at the rear. Riveted Iron hull. Sodding great Dorman Marine Diesel
Painted black. He was waiting to enter the lock. The gates opened, a couple of Thames cruisers left, our guy, single handed, slipped in where the lockeeper took the stern line and another chap the bow line after it was thrown up. Three smaller GRP boats entered behind him. One shouted at the lockeeper to get the engine turned off the ' big black boat '. He was told it would remain running by the lockeeper - it was a compressed air start and required the starting of a Lister powered compressor to be started once stopped.

This did not go down well. The guy in the nearest GRP boat, now held by his locking lines, sent his wife up to the bow with the boathook. She pointed and waved it towards the stern of the Short boat where the smokey old Dorman Diesel was gently thumping away.

Our guy, disreputable blue woolen sweater with holes in under a pair of bib and brace overalls , took his pipe from his mouth and shouted across " You be careful of my nice black paint! "

Bought the house down................................................
 
It was a good working rule that the further up an estuary you went, the more awful the boats became, and if you got as far as fresh water they became truly ghastly.

The Leven in Dumbarton used to have a superb collection of floating nightmares, but Balloch was even worse.
 
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