Where we are (or aren’t) in May: Craftybird and the bees

Where we are (or aren’t) in May: Craftybird and the bees

Craftybird and the bees

Picture the scene: after a sunny day of boating across the summit, Mary and I cruise past Fenny Compton, dreaming of mooring glory at Claydon. And lo — as if by divine intervention, there's an empty spot right at the front by the bridge. Jackpot. We slide in, spirits high, and spirits poured — gin and tonic, to be precise.

Gin o’clock

While I cooked us supper, we basked in the last rays of sunshine, and even decided a celebratory shower was in order.

Emerging fresh and fragrant, I was greeted by what I can only describe as Bee-ageddon. Hundreds of them. Swarming like tiny, winged estate agents, aggressively moving into holes above the workshop door. They were moving in and at an alarming rate: They meant business! Gin or no gin, I turned to Mary and said, “We have to go. Now.”

Bee home?

So an impromptu 5-lock descent in the dimming light of evening. Claydon Flight awaited us with its cheerful new “no mooring” signs, just to spice things up. And somewhere between lock 2 and “why are we doing this again?”, Craftybird got stuck on the sill. Dramatically. There was a moment - just a moment - when I thought we were about to star in Titanic II: Narrowboat Edition. Thankfully, she slipped off, but not without damage.

The tiller had come clean out of the skeg. For the uninitiated: that’s bad. Like, "your-tiller-doesn’t-steer-anymore" bad. We limped on, found a spot to moor, and spent the night watching the moon and contemplating life, bees, and boat repair.

Next day, Mary left (a wise retreat), and Rich arrived to help assess the damage. Cue me in a snorkel and mask, diving under the boat like Jacques Cousteau’s much less glamorous cousin. After hours of freezing underwater faffing, I concluded: the plate was very slightly bent. Just enough to make fixing it impossible without divine intervention or heavy machinery.

Enter PJ, bearing a giant crowbar and heroic optimism. Despite valiant efforts, the tiller still refused to cooperate.

So now, Craftybird and I are limping back toward Fenny Compton - again - in search of a dry dock. Progress South paused… plans on hold. Will update when we are back up and running.

In the meantime I am still making, mending and selling through the Craftybird shop… here

Sally xx

 

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