Fire

Sunday evening was just beginning to draw in when a thud caused our boat to lurch to port-side. I thought we had been hit by a passing boat so I went outside to check. There was no one there, but I heard screaming. It was indistinct at first and I thought perhaps children were playing over exuberantly in the park - it was then that I heard the call every boater dreads: FIRE!

We immediately ran towards the shouts and found a family of eight stranded on their cruiser as smoke billowed out of their cabin. We could not reach the boat, but we sprang into action as the family jumped into the water. Not all of them were able to swim but they were wearing life jackets and, with Gary and Brenda, we managed to pull them from the water and onto the pontoons. Rob and Gary seemed to pluck the children out one by one, strong as they are, with relative ease, but I struggled hauling out a girl as her clothing weighed her down. I asked her to work with me, and on the count of three she pushed up whilst I pulled, and with the help of Brenda we dragged her free of the water and onto the relative safety of the pontoon. Whilst this was going on another boater called the fire brigade and opened the gates to give the emergency services access. Everyone worked naturally together.

It was clear by now that there was not much we could do for the boat. Two people in a rib arrived with a fire extinguisher, but there was a problem and it did not work and all they could do was push the boat further towards the far bank and away from us. They were forced to retreat when the flames and heat became too much. The fire spread so swiftly, eating through the cabin as though it was made of cardboard. One minute the cabin was visible, the next it was gone. Just like that a boat was gutted. Gary and Rob stood by with boat poles to keep the burning boat at a distance for fear that it could drift back. Thankfully, the breeze took it towards the bank and away from other boats and people. As the emergency services arrived Brenda and I dashed to our boats to retrieve towels to dry and keep the family warm. We had pulled them out of the water - five children, one baby, and two adults - and they were unharmed. We could not bring them to our boats to keep them safe because our boats were still in the danger zone and they would have had to pass their burning boat. They retreated onto firm ground and to the shelter of their car in the car park where the paramedics attended to them. Brenda stayed with them and I returned to the pontoons to see what more could be done – but there was nothing left for us to do. The emergency services had it all in hand, and pumped river water onto the flames. It seemed to take an age for the flames to extinguish, and by the time they were done there was very little boat left - It did not matter though; a family survived, and that is enough.

Local media coverage:

BBC

The Oxford Mail

Advice for petrol powered boats: Boat Safety Scheme

Of stars and meteors

I watched the last glow of the evening fall into the west before I clambered up onto the roof of the boat. The cool steel was a shock to my warm fingers and I lay, bundled in blankets and darkness, as the sky stood gaping above me.

There was little cloud last night and the moon was so slim a slither that the stars stood bright and endless overhead. The air was still and the river quiet, and I wondered what I would miss if I lived in a house. How could I bear the confines of bricks and a roof I could not climb to lie upon, and how would I cope with not seeing the vast expanse of universe above me for the orange glow of street lamps? I feel connected here, upon our boat, floating on the Thames. I feel like I am part of it. I sense the thin, wispy strand of web that holds me in my landscape. And last night I felt that thread twitch as I watched and marveled at satellites pass and the Perseids fall.

I wish I had a camera that could capture the beauty of stars so numerous and vivid that I struggled to map out constellations. I wish I could render into words the elegance of the world at that particular time to share here, now. But I have not and I cannot, for I lack the skill. The Perseids are due to peak over the next few days; if you can, go out into the darkness and see for yourself the utter splendour they present.

Where to look for the Perseids (clicky, click; linky, link)

Summer Sun and Painting the Roof

When we had the boat built we only had a holding coat of paint applied to her by the builders. We were't even sure at the time what colour we wanted the boat to be, so on a whim, and due to location, we plumped for Oxford Blue. We're really happy with the colour, but in the height of summer when the boat is sat in full sun the heat the colour holds is unbearable. During the last heatwave I left a thermometer on the gas locker on the back deck and it read 51.9C. It felt a tad toasty inside the boat too. So, we took the decision to paint the roof a more suitable colour, one that wouldn't soak up the sun's rays so readily. We ventured vaguely into this territory with The Green Man, but the red shade we chose wasn't really very effective. This time we decided to go all out and do it properly.

I sanded out all rust and primed where I had taken the paint back to bare metal. I then meticulously sanded the roof of paint drips from the original blue coat and tried to remove the drips of solder left over from when the boat was constructed. This was a fair old job, and after three hours I wished the boat was 50ft smaller and 10ft narrower. I had a little help, though.

There was a lot more rust spots than I was expecting for such a new boat, and the heatwave kicked in just as work started. The roof became too hot to stand on after 10am.

My friends over at the very lovely Green Boat Services recommended Jotun Marine Paints to us. Jotun have a much larger colour palette than International and are more affordable so we thought we'd give them a go. First we applied an undercoat of Vinyguard 88 primer/tiecoat (I exchanged kitty help for human help).

We're not sure which paint the builders originally used. I'm sure it's in our paperwork somewhere, but because we intend to paint the entire shell again (eventually) we thought a slight variation in the blue that we chose would be okay. We decided that it would be nice to keep an Oxford Blue border and use a lighter colour for the main part of the roof. The Oxford Blue Jotun supplied turned out to be a near perfect match (Jotun Pilot 2 BS381c Oxford Blue 105) and we thought their Silver Grey would compliment it (Jotun Pilot 2 Ral 7001 Silver Grey). The photos of the boat do not do the colours justice so here are the colours from the paint charts.

We painted the blue border first. I think we did two or three coats in the end. Another coat will be applied when we come to paint the sides to tie the sides and roof together, and to hide the silver paint I accidentally splattered onto the handrails!

The Jotun paints used in conjunction with their thinner was easy to apply. On the hottest days we were limited to painting only in the mornings. This caused my two week paint schedule to go completely awry, but with Rob's help we eventually got a couple of coats of silver-grey on too.

 Rain stopped play on a couple of occasions. It was lovely to see the high gloss finish repel the raindrops.

Our lovely high gloss finish was not to last though. It was beautiful to look at, but slippery as hell. Our roof is used a lot for access to the solar panels, the lawn, taking the water hose across, to sit on, and to lie on. I took the hose across in the rain to fill the water tank and it was like trying to traverse an ice rink. We always planned to make it non-slip but was originally going to use sand in conjunction with the paint. A fellow boater mentioned he had problems with his boat roof when the previous owner had used sand. It had cracked and rain had got under the paint coats causing rust patches to bubble up from below. In lieu of his experience and advice we decided to opt for International's Non-Slip Additive. It looks and feels like talcum powder (I don't know whether talc would be a cheaper alternative) and leaves a lovely non-slip surface.

The roof isn't completely finished as I'd like an Aegishjalmur painted onto the sliding hatch (and a Vegvisir on the bow locker), but we're sneaking ever closer to a nicer looking boat.

An Unexpected Guest

Our dinner was disturbed last night by a clatter from the back deck. Lolly was the first to investigate the source of the commotion.

This juvenile cormorant seems not to to have acquired a shyness for humans (or cats) yet. He sat, quite peacefully, on the solar panel rack that I left balancing precariously across the back deck when we painted the roof. Lolly wasn't quite so sure of our visitor. After poking her head out of the door she decided her best course of action was to sneak away and abandon ship.

The cormorant watched her slink by before closing his eyes for a quick snooze. He eventually moved away after dark to sit on the tiller of our neighbour's boat, and Lolly finally felt it safe to return.