River Ock ramblings

I've had a longing of late to reconnect with our surroundings and the life we share our local watercourses with. It's been with apt joy that I've been reading Views of the Ock and it's inspired me to take the time to venture further afield and wander the banks of a river I've pretty much taken for granted. I never realised how much wildlife the Ock hosts until I read this wonderful blog, and Rob and I thought we'd take the opportunity to walk part of its course whilst we explored the route of the old Wilts & Berks canal. I blogged about this part of the canal once - it's been four years since last we ventured there. Four years. How could we have left it so long?

We started our little Ock adventure in the early evening, whilst daylight still showed us our way, and we followed the footpaths that led away from houses and superstores, and towards the roar of the busy A34.

My northern soul wants to call it a beck.

We found 14 Second World War anti-tank dragon's teeth tucked away and abandoned in the undergrowth:

Here be dragons... teeth.
(identification courtesy of OckViewer)

Whilst still within the confines of the noisy world of humans we saw only baby moorhens and a grey heron (not at the same time, I hasten to add). But soon we passed under the dual carriageway and open fields beckoned us.

Under the A34. Hey, wait for me!

Here there was a lovely air of abandonment that gave the impression that we were the only wanderers to walk these paths, though I doubt that this was true.

Bridge needs a little work.

Corn stubble, perfect for hares to hide.

It was in these fields of stubbled corn that we saw our first hare bound along the hedgerow. We paused to watch a while before continuing on our way as five partridges scuttled into the tall grass in front of us. It was in this field too that we heard the plaintive keeow of a buzzard. We observed his lazy circles over the treeline before he disappeared out of sight on the other side of the river. With fading light we were unable to get a decent photo, but we continued to walk until day fell fully into night and the moon rose high to guide us.

I'm not saying the moon rose specifically for us, but he definitely helped.

And just as we turned our tails to retrace our steps home a red deer darted across our path. A good wildlife haul already spotted, or so I thought, before a badger snuffled his way into the middle of the field to have a root about. We were motionless as we watched him, afraid that the slightest movement would disturb him. He too, retraced his steps, and returned into the darkness of the hedgerow from where he came.

Back under the underpass we stopped as bats flitted about us, so close I thought I would be able to reach out and touch them. They flew low over the water and skirted above our heads, just as they do when we're sat on the front of our boat on a warm summer evening. But this wasn't the end of our wildlife spotting. There was one more fellow who made himself known before we fully returned to the world of humans. A fox, stealthy in the night, turned to take us in his gaze, swished his tail and was gone into the darkness.

The river Ock may be little, but life abounds about her in the liminal space between day and night, and it was a privilege, for a moment, to experience it.

Summer fruits and season falling.

The Spanish Plume (who knew?) saw temperatures rise to 30C on Saturday and it turned into a fine day for some foraging.

We added elderberries to our blackberry stash ready for making port (but not until we've collected the first frost's sloes). Our freezer is currently full of berries.

"Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"

Processing the elderberries

And then there were windfall apples and plums for crumbles and other sweet treats.

Apples and plums (and possibly a wasp that was chasing me)

The local rowan trees are currently heavy under the weight of fruit. I've collected some berries already to dry in garlands before they become too soft.

rowan

rowan berries (looking like mardi gras beads)

I'm hoping to use them as decorations for Yule, but am debating whether to make rowan wine. We're also contemplating harvesting mugwort for a Samhain brew, 'Oh Lordy, it's Mugworty', as a change from last year's pumpkin 'Oh Lordy, it's Gourdy' beer (see what we did there?).

Since that glorious day of foraging the weather has turned in upon itself and summer seems to be falling into the first clutches of autumn. Temperatures have dropped by over ten degrees, and the leaves along the riverbank are showing signs of decay. It's been cold enough to warrant a fire on some occasions. Whilst it's been dark and damp outside, we have been tucked up cosy and warm within. This is one of the things I love about boat life, and the turning from summer into autumn is my favourite time of year.

When it's cold outside...

First fire of the season

2015 Totally Thames Source to Sea River Relay

On Tuesday we trundled up to Sandford-on-Thames ready for our part in the Totally Thames Source to Sea River Relay the following day. The stretch between Abingdon and Sandford was peaceful. Lolly clearly enjoyed the boat ride and was pleased to be on another adventure.

And where do you think you're taking me?

I think we should go back that way.

Sandford was pretty busy. We were hoping to moor below the lock but our favourite spot was taken, so through the lock we went with Rob expertly maneuvering past a couple in a tiny canoe who went in before us (that would be my fault with the 'No, after you...' to their looks of horror).

This is actually Abingdon Lock but I'm going to pass it off as Sandford whilst no one is looking.

We saw Pat as we emerged from the lock. He waved at us from the beer garden of the King's Arms. I waved enthusiastically in response and hollered a greeting, and we continued on our way. I discovered later that he was trying to wave us down because he'd saved us a mooring. Oops! We did managed to snag the last available meadow-side space (opposite some very lovely houses) so all was not lost.

Our mere presence clearly adding value to the property opposite. 

Once here we settled in for the night under a very lovely, if stormy, looking sunset. It held promise of the weather to come.

Do you think it's going to rain?

Nah, we'll be all right.

As the evening wore on Lolly and I played a little game called Spot the Cat in the Dark.

Aha, I have a torch!

The following morning dawned bright and sunny and full of hope for a day of good weather. I decked the boat out in a mixture of bought and homemade bunting.

Remember my lovely new paintwork? The bunting has marked it. :(

Pffft, the bunting you made is rubbish! I'm a cat, I know these things.

And we waited for our turn in the relay. Just after lunch this came and the bottle of Thames water arrived on Admiral VII and we had a little hand over.

There were drinks aboard too. Beautiful boat, and lovely crew. :)

And then a second, more official, handover at Sandford Lock.

After saying our farewells it was back to our boat to get started on our journey to Abingdon.

Not before another photograph was taken. That's my dad in the background.

We were accompanied downstream by Mark who had taken part in the relay the day before us in his beautiful boat.

Steering by foot and making it look easy. I'd fall overboard. *jealous* :)

And whilst we were busy crewing Lolly looked after our precious cargo of Thames source water.

Can I eat it? Are you sure? You're no fun...

It was about this time that the rain started. And it rained, and rained, and rained. Some of us may have retreated inside (there's a downside to being at the tiller) and by the time we reached Abingdon Rob was completely soaked.
At Abingdon Lock we were met by other Morris men from Abingdon Traditional Morris Dancers and they put on a good show for passing boats despite the weather. There was even an Abingdon flag bearer.

That's my mum, that is.

After all the dancing the bottle of source water was officially handed over to ex-Morris dancer Frank who was manning Abingdon Lock. The next part of its journey will be in the hands of a different river user.

This marked the end of our leg of the relay and so we made our way back home to Abingdon Marina. We were soggy, we were tired, but we were happy after such a fun day.

Abingdon looking pretty even in the rain.

Still pretty.

Yep, still pretty.

Preparations

We have been readying ourselves and the boat of late to once again partake in the Totally Thames Source to Sea Relay. Time has crept quickly upon us and there is less than a week to go before we journey up to Oxford for our leg of the event. We will be collecting the bottle of Thames source water at Sandford and bringing it down to Abingdon on Wednesday, before leaving it in the care of the lock keeper for the night. The bottle will carry on its journey downstream without us, but not before getting a Morris send off from Rob and the guys he dances with.

The boat is nearly ready to play her part in the relay. I have washed the windows and the majority of the steel work. House-dwellers do not seem to notice it so much, but on the water spiders are everywhere - and wherever they are, they poo. Spider poo. I was not familiar with spider poo until I lived on a boat. Now we even sing a little ditty about it (to the theme of the original Spider-Man cartoon):

Spider poo, spider poo,

It's the thing that the spiders do...

Okay, so it needs a little work (we even have little ditties about lighting the fire, but I suspect this just confirms that we are a little weird, especially as we have not tired of it in over ten years). But, spider poo is gross. This is an exterior bulkead:

It is supposed to be uniformly blue. All that discolouration is spider poo (Spider poo, spider poo...). I removed a pint of spiders (that is a legitimate measure for spiders) from the front of the boat yesterday and washed the steel down as best as I could. I also renewed the gaffer tape that stops the windows from leaking. It is not very elegant but until we have the time and means to refit the windows it will have to do - just do not look too closely at our relay photos.

Rob has also been busy making a top-box for the roof. The lid of which will be constructed using a couple of our solar panels. We have more solar panels than planned top-boxes, so he will make a rack for the other panels and have them up and running (famous last words) in time for our trip. They are not really necessary as the engine will generate enough power for our needs, but it is nice to have them all the same.

I also set myself a challenge. I was given a sewing machine as a graduation present and as I am new to the world of sewing I thought my very first project on this machine could be bunting for the relay.

I had grand plans of bedecking the entire boat with the stuff, but to be fair, after hours of sticking myself with pins (blood sacrifice, I presume) I am happy to announce that I have made enough to go around the stern rail. That is not very much at all, but I am proud of my little achievement. I will post photos of it from the relay. I never knew sewing needed so much concentration. It made my brain, and my machine, go fuzzy.

And whilst we were busying ourselves Lolly kept up her job of Chief Lookout, and she did it admirably.

Nothing is coming. I think we are safe.

It has been lovely, after all the work we have been doing on the boat, to sit on the roof in the evenings and watch the sun set. We have had some pretty displays of late: