I awoke this morning to the dancing reflections on the cabin ceiling from the water surface; far too good to lie in bed watching these 'get up and make the most of the day' signs. I therefore turned around so that I not could see them and dozed off again. We were out and about eventually by 8am to the 'Yaffle' sound of a green woodpecker. We had decided to have a look around the Stoke Lock Island and weir. Some interesting projects moored above the weir, a proper Dutch barge and a modern looking steel yacht with nice lines which had definitely seen better days. Mooching back to the lock found the keeper preparing for his working day. We did our best to slow his preparations and ended up having a nice chat with him and the boater in charge of an ex shrimping boat from Holland, also moored overnight above the lock. Our conversations covered everything from our views on BW management at various levels - to which of course the lockie could not possibly comment - to the birds occupying the surrounding area. We eventually penned through just after 10am and enjoyed a glorious trip down to Gunthorpe. The sky was blue with a few white flecks of cloud and the river was deep blue, mostly without any ripples. Absolutely perfect boating weather watching Grebes submerging without as much as a ripple to mark the start of their dive. Cormorants in abundance some braving our approach with a last glance in our direction before diving; others waiting until the last moment before starting their long take off run and flying well away. On arrival at Gunthorpe, we took advantage of having a shower with plenty of elbow room, in the very clean BW facilities block. The sky was darkening as we returned to Martlet and a few spots of rain arrived as we were inside having lunch.
I had decided to put on my wet weather gear for the trip down to Hazleford island moorings, and about a mile after leaving Gunthorpe lock, it proved to be the right decision. The heavens opened and threw some sleet in with the rain. The temperature dropped noticeably and I tried to remind myself that this was the same journey as that before lunch. Funny how your perceptions change when the rain drips off the end of your nose! The rain eased slightly as we entered the lock at Hazleford and began again after the lock as I turned the boat around to moor against the piling. Myra had the fire going well by this time and having moored up, as I entered the rear cabin, the warmth hit me in a most agreeable fashion. Another day's journey had been completed.
