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.

Source to sea relay. The Morris leg.

This year we took part in the Totally Thames Source to Sea Relay. I bedecked our boat in bunting (not nearly enough as we needed as I'm numerically dyslexic and didn't order a sufficient amount) and we took the cat on an adventure to Oxford.

We moored below Sandford Lock overnight and waited for our turn in the event the following day, day 5 of the relay. Our mission was to safely carry the water, bottled at the source of the Thames in Gloucester, from Sandford Lock to Abingdon Lock as it journeyed down the course of the Thames. Rob, and friend Mark, were set to do this in their capacity as morris men. Rob in the colours of Mr Hemming's morris dancers and Mark in the colours of Abingdon Traditional Morris Dancers, thus representing both of Abingdon's morris sides.

Relay handover to Rob.

The bottle of Thames water in the care of mini Rob knitted by Heather.

Before our journey downstream commenced, Rob and Mark put on a little morris performance on the boat roof in honour of the tiny bottle of water.

 I found Lolly hiding under the bed. I assume she thought the boat was under attack by swift-footed hanky wavers. Dancing done, we set off for Abingdon Lock

Where the assistant lock keepers reminisced about their days in the local morris sides, and we handed our precious cargo (the water, not Lolly) over into the safe keeping of the lock keeper for it to continue its journey downstream the following day.

We were all given a rosette to commemorate our part in the relay. Even Lolly has one.

She sinks!

So, apparently it's customary to check that your weed hatch is firmly attached before setting off on your journey. We don't normally check ours on The Green Man primarily because you need a jack hammer to release it. It's not coming loose in a hurry.

Imagine Rob's surprise to notice, after wondering why the bilge pump had gone into overdrive on The Gabble Ratchet's maiden voyage, that the engine was sitting in a vast amounts of water and that it was coming in quicker than it was being pumped out.  He didn't know the weed hatch wasn't secured at this point. All he knew was that he was in the middle of the Thames with his parents on a boat that was in the process of sinking. The engine still worked, miraculously, and so he planned to head for the shallows to make salvage attempts easier. 

It was at this point that he noticed the weed hatch and tightened its fastenings. No more water came in, but the engine bay was bursting with water. Cue an emergency phone call to me with the opening sentence of "fancy a rescue mission? I need pans."

Cue my emergency phone call to my mum with the opening sentence of "sinking... Pans..." Okay, not a well constructed sentence, but it did the job.

My mum arrived with pans and we went in search of the stricken crew (I'm not entirely sure how stricken they were since the boat was moving under its own power and there was a supply of alcohol onboard for the crew if needed). 

Obviously, it was a very serious matter and I didn't arse about taking photos of my mum with a pan on her head before we turned up for bailing duty.

Thankfully, all eventually became well and boat and crew made it safely to our home mooring where we officially named the boat, praised its float-ability and gave up a toast to Martin for installing an automatic bilge pump when he commissioned the engine.