There is a hole in my finger....

I was moored very briefly at a bridge, and last night it was time to move on, but only a short way to a 7day mooring one bridge up. How difficult can this be?

With enormous confidence and puffed up plumage I pulled the pins and set off slowly along the canal whistling happy boat tunes to myself. A few minutes later I started to turn the boat into the space available on the new mooring but just at the critical point (actually, all points in boating are critical where I am concerned!) a lady (Katrina) appeared from a fence on land and asked me whether I would like some wood, a split second later I was stuck in the mud. Much heaving pulling and brow wiping followed by her, her husband (Andrew) and the two small boys (Tom and Alexander) pulling on a rope eventually led to Bones easing of the Oxford Canal mud flaps. I reversed up to their garden and loaded up the tree onto the roof. Actually, I already have an enormous amount of wood in a friends shed, but I just couldn't resist more. Hijaking Katrina I re-attempted mooring in the available slot which turned into a victory albeit a stressed one. I made my way onto the bank and started to bang the pins in to moor the boat so Katrina could get off. As I hammered away I caught my knuckle between the pin and the hammer and off went the skin. BLAH. Oh well, it seemed ok so I carried on mooring the boat up, free'd Katrina and was promptly invited for a drink a bit later. LOVELY! They must have thought I was alright despite the splatterings of blood that were over my hands and up my arms from hammering with a gushing knuckle, and the poor attempts at 'manning' the boat. Andrew even called me Captain - good man!

I washed up, cleaned up and an hour was hailed from their quaters and took a stroll around to the house. The kids were everso excited to have a real Pirate in their midst and I had a lovely evening. Katrina is a fabulous cook and I found myself in the middle of an impromtu dinner party - very very kind indeed! Land folk are great.

Near my moorings is a rocket scientist; apparently he goes for a run each day and then hangs upside down from his climbing frame... sounds rather like a bat. I do like bats. I think I will enjoy my current mooring a great deal!