RCR to the rescue

 Saturday 23^rd July; Sutton Cheney Wharf to Burton Hastings area.

It was dry and quite sunny first thing, and after breakfast Meg and I enjoyed a walk up to the woods while Dave finished off the port side with Carnauba wax, having had to wash it again last night.  I gave him a hand when we got back and it looks great!  Photo later when I get around to taking one. 

We were ready to leave about 10, but the engine wouldn’t start!  There were no lights on the control panel, as though the starter battery was dead, or isolated.  He tested all the battery circuits etc with the multimeter, and they were fine, just as the battery monitor said.  He was fairly sure the problem was connected with the erratic performance of the rev counter, and the odd ticking sound that occasionally occurred.  He called RCR, and then got on with other bits and pieces till the engineer phoned.  Magic! Dave described the problem, said what he had tested and observed, and the engineer said it was either the 40-amp fuse had blown, or the multi-plug had vibrated loose – both well-known issues with Beta 43 engines, which are new to us - Chuffed had a Yanmar Barrus-Shire.  Dave looked where he said and immediately the solution was clear – few of the pins in the multi-plug were connecting.  He pushed the two parts back together, turned the key and the beeps sounded – success!  Not only did the phone call save the engineer a drive out, but we saved the £15 call-out which RCR have had to introduce because of the fuel price increases.

We had lunch and left about 1, passing the wharf cafe, which was extremely busy on a Saturday lunchtime as you might expect, and waved at our neighbours who had arrived this morning for lunch with family. 

We wended our gentle way towards Stoke Golding, past the peaceful field which looks as though it won’t stay that way for long.

Then past the marina we left a couple of days ago.

And on towards Marston Junction.  We stopped just past Trinity where I popped up to the garage for the Saturday paper, but it was too late for our preferred title,  A little further on, were positioned correctly for a bend when suddenly an apparition appeared in the middle of the navigation making straight for us! Dave had to slam into reverse to avoid an accident as the giant paddleboard, with 6 young people and one adult aboard, crossed over in front of us to the towpath side where they held onto the bank.  Close behind was another, but they were already taking evasive action.  It didn’t seem right to take a face-on photo of young people, so here they are from the back.  They were definitely having fun!

Too foreshortened to see the seven young people on the board!

Back out into the countryside and there seemed to be a combine harvester hard at work. I tried to get an arty shot of the tractor and grain trailer on the horizon through the bridge-hole, but was a bit too late. 

It turned out not to be harvesting wheat or barley, but we thought probably rapeseed.  The rotating cutter device is held off the ground, as rapeseed is held atop tall stalks.  The harvester seemed to be chopping the stalks up finely and dropping the bits back onto the ground, as presumably it’s not fit for animal feed or bedding so is not baled up but incorprated back into the soil. 

This was all happening close to the land of the baby pylons, where the grown-ups appear to have the high-voltage cables tied on with a pretty bow.

We moored soon after 5, on a nice bit of Armco a little way past Burton Hastings.   There are not many boats on the move, but a lot moored along the towpath.  We were joined later by one boat, and another passed by while we were eating, but that was it.  Yet another evening with no signal though, so I am still waiting to post the first blog of this trip.

8½ miles