Boat handling
Can a training course help you take your first steps afloat?
Waterscape.com's Ifraz Mughal had never set foot on a narrowboat before.
So when he was offered the opportunity to learn the ropes on the Grand Union Canal,
we didn't give him the chance to refuse.
But would one day's tuition be enough to teach this self-confessed
landlubber about boat-handling? And, more to the point, would he enjoy the
experience?
We caught up with Ifraz after his session at Northamptonshire training
centre and holiday boat fleet, Canalboat Holidays. Here's his account of the
experience.
First steps
Weedon, our base for the day, was exactly as I'd always imagined a canal
village to be. Canalboat Holidays' busy marina was the focal point for a canal
scene taking in old brick bridges, narrowboats both long and short, and a
regular stream of walkers on the towpath. I could already tell this was going
to be a world apart from a day in the office.
Our instructor for the day was Sam Clarke, daughter of the owners of this
long-established family firm. I was joined by three other candidates - one
newcomer, like me, and two more experienced boaters who were keen to hone
their skills.
Over the first cup of tea of the day, Sam explained how the day would be
structured. Most of it would be spent out on the canal - this is unashamedly a
practical course. The RYA, who co-ordinate training courses for inland and
sea-going boaters alike, do produce a clear, nicely illustrated course
handbook, but there was no question of being asked to memorise its
contents. We would be learning 'on the job'.
Before we could set off on our first cruise of the day, we were shown
round Riverweed - the narrowboat on which all our tuition would
take place. (The Canalboat Holidays fleet are all called 'weed' of one variety
or another.)
In particular, there were certain checks which, Sam explained, we would
need to do whenever we set off on a narrowboat. Did we have enough oil? (No
problem - it's just like checking the dipstick on a car.) Was the 'stern
gland', the seal that stops water getting in around the propeller, tight
enough? (It was.) And did we have any weed wrapped around the propeller that
would slow our progress? (We didn't, and I was relieved to find that I didn't
need my sub-aqua gear to find out.)
This accomplished, it was time to learn the ropes - literally. Rope skills
are an important part of narrowboat handling: you use them to moor the boat,
to keep the boat still in locks, even to help you negotiate tricky
corners.
Sam taught us the most useful knots, how to coil and stow a rope, and how
to throw it to another crew member. My first efforts were woefully off-target,
frankly, but after a few minutes' practice we were throwing and catching like
seasoned sailors.
Our introduction was complete - now it was time to take to the water.
Getting underway
The Grand Union Canal at Weedon proved to be an excellent place to learn
the basics of steering. It might have been the motorway of its day, but the
canal is very, very different from today's roads.
First of all, it follows a much more winding course. Where the motorway
blasts straight across the landscape, the canal gently follows the lie of the
land, curving around even the smallest hills. There were perhaps a dozen such
bends in the first mile of canal heading north from Weedon - and we were
expected to steer around them.
What's more, as Sam pointed out, years of experience behind the wheel of a
car would be of no help here. Narrowboat steering is nothing like motorway
driving. The boat reacts much more slowly, so you need to think in advance -
but since we were only travelling at 3mph, this isn't a problem.
Before long, gently coaxed and aided by Sam, I was steering along the canal
with a reasonable amount of confidence. I was a little nervous when we came to
our first bridge - was I really expected to steer the boat through such a
narrow hole? It wasn't as tricky as it seemed. In fact, since the bridge is
14ft wide and the boat under 7ft, there was plenty of room to spare.
Narrowboats have very simple controls: a tiller to steer left and right,
and a throttle to apply power in forward or reverse. One thing that surprised
me was that the boat steered much better when I applied a reasonable amount of
power. I'd expected to slow right down when going round corners - but when I
tried this, the boat flatly refused to go the way I was steering. As soon as I
upped the throttle, it swung perfectly into line.
The instruction was relaxed rather than intense - just in keeping with
canal life. Sam would allow us to make our own mistakes, but then explained
what we'd done, and how we could put it right. Before long, my worried
expression was gradually giving way to a smile. This was fun.
Locks
And then we came to our first locks.
This is what I was most nervous about. What do all those gears and paddles
do? All that water rushing through - is it safe? And what if I open the gates
too soon?
We'd arrived at Whilton Locks, three miles north of Weedon. Here, we were joined by Jenny Clarke, co-founder of Canalboat
Holidays (and Sam's mother). Before we started on the locks, we tied the boat
up for a few minutes' rest and a discussion of what lay ahead.
Locks, as Sam and Jenny explained them, are pretty simple creatures. Using
a metal lever (a 'windlass') which slots into a system of gears and cogs, we'd
have to open an underwater door (or 'paddle') to let the water from the lock
empty out into the canal. Once the levels were equal, we'd open the gates,
close the paddles, tell the skipper to steer the boat in, and close the gates
behind him.
Then we'd do the same again, pretty much. This time, we'd use the windlass
to open a paddle at the other end of the lock. This would make the water from
the canal flow into the lock - gently raising the boat with it. When the lock
was full, we'd open the gates to let the boat out, close the paddles, and shut
the gates behind him.
It turned out I needn't have worried about opening the gates too soon - the
water pressure keeps them firmly shut until they can be opened safely. But I
was glad Sam and Jenny were on hand to reassure me. Jenny was insistent that
we shouldn't try to hurry through the lock: open the paddles too fast, and the
rush of water can knock the boat about a bit.
I was concentrating fervently all the way through the first lock. Which
order should I do it in? Close the gates now? Open the paddles? Help! But as
soon as I stopped and thought about it, it began to make sense. Sure enough, a
couple of locks later, and our team were moving through with ease - even
sharing the lock with another boat which was passing through.
Winding and manoeuvring
We'd not travelled a long way, but we'd learnt a lot. Before long, it was
time to turn round and head back to Weedon.
Riverweed was wider than the canal, so we couldn't just
manage a three-point turn on the spot. Instead, Sam took us to a 'winding
hole', situated between two of the locks. This section of canal had been dug
specially for the purpose of turning round. It was wider than the boat was
long - but not by much.
So we slowly edged into the apex of the widened section, and began to turn
the boat around. This was a real test of how much we'd remembered from our
steering lessons earlier.
One of the best things about the training course was that it didn't just
tell you what to do. Rather, Sam explained why we should handle
the boat in a particular way. So instead of just turning the tiller and hoping
for the best, we were starting to get a real understanding of how a boat
steers. By carefully watching the water that was being washed over the
propeller, we could turn around with ease.
Back to base
Which was just as well. Because after a gentle cruise back through Weedon,
and a little more practice in turning round just south of the village, Sam set
us our toughest test of the day.
The challenge was to turn a full 90° into Canalboat Holidays' marina, from
a normal-width canal into a very narrow space - with other peoples' boats on
either side. We'd seen this spot when we set off that morning, and there was
no way I'd have thought I could ever steer a boat so accurately.
But I managed - and so did the rest of the team. Because by now, we'd
settled into the rhythm of the canal. By giving us plenty of hands-on
experience, the day's coaching had increased our confidence to such a point
that we wouldn't throw our hands in the air when faced with a challenge like
this. Instead, we took it calmly, slowly, and carefully. I think that's what
boat handling is all about.
Putting our rope skills into effect once more, we carefully
tied Riverweed up next to another boat from the Canalboat
Holidays fleet. Over a cup of tea, Sam went over some of the things we'd
learned, and helped us understand more about the canals - about protecting the
environment, staying safe, and consideration for other waterway users.
For me, it was a thoroughly enjoyable introduction to the skill of
navigating a boat on the inland waterways. While we were chatting over tea, it
became clear that the experienced boaters had learned a lot, too - perhaps
more than they thought they would. And just as importantly, we'd all had an
enjoyable day.
Would I take the tiller again? You bet. But next time, I fully intend to
take the plunge and enjoy a whole week's holiday, backed up by my new-found
boating skills.
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