Boat Plans Building
Although Im happy to be accused of stretching an analogy too far, the 124 mile journey of the River Thames from its rural source to the point it becomes tidal, is rather like the development of a child, from wriggling infant to grown man, ready to head off to sea to seek adventure far from its home shores. Along the way it leaves its toys lying around, got into technology and even acquired some brand-name accessories. Oh, and dont get me started on the state of its bedroom....
Infancy
The Thames officially becomes navigable at Lechlade Bridge.
And like most newborns (at least in the eyes of their parents, or at least those besotted enough to pay it a visit at 7am on a bank holiday weekend) its a pretty little river, snuggled up between its grassy banks, and small enough that you could... well, not quite hold it in your arms, but certainly span it with a reasonable-sized narrow boat (more on that later).
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| Lechlade Bridge. The start! |
Whilst industry, buildings and technology have all made their marks on the lower reaches of the Thames, up near the top, it passes through countryside which appears to have changed little in hundreds of years. And though we got the odd whiff of oil seed rape, mostly there were just grassy fields, cows and a few sheep. We glimpsed the 16th Century Kelmscott Manor through some rook-laden trees, and had a stimulating conversation with our cox of what William Morris was most famous for (she proved very knowledgable, and scorned our suggestion that the answer was "mostly wallpaper").
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| Meandering. Us AND the river. |
Whilst navigating this part of the river, and regularly responding to requests to pull "harder on strokeside" shortly followed by "harder on bowside", or simply lugging our rather heavy boat against the rudder as we negotiated yet another hairpin bend, we realised why this popular skiff route is known as a "Meander": because meandering is exactly what the Thames up here. Like a child learning to walk its path is seemingly aimless as it wanders around, getting constantly distracted and entirely lacking in focus.
The age of technology
As we all know, if you need to know how to work a modern gadget, the best thing to do is ask a 7 year old, and the River Thames also embraces technology pretty early in life. From Godstow Lock, just on the outskirts of Oxford, onwards, all Thames locks are electric, and all that traditional opening and closing of lock gates by leaning against the mighty beams atop them, is replaced by pressing a button. Funnily enough, Energetic Cyclist didnt seem to mind about this automation of his duties.
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| A crucial line of defence. No, seriously. |
I grew up next door to two boys who apparently spent their every waking moment leaping around the garden shouting "Ack, ack, ack" whilst playing "battles" and stuff like that. But I had hoped for a little more refinement from the fine river Thames. I was wrong. It seems that the Young Thames was given a huge boxed set of pill boxes during the Second World War, which its left scattered all along the river bank, practically as far as Reading. Remembering these from our previous Meander we laid some bets before setting off on how many we would see. Our cox went for 12. My Tiny Skiffing Partner thought 40, and I suggested 48.
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| Decommissioned military hardware put to good use in the 21st century. |
I do realise youre probably keen that I get back to tales of our on-water challenges, but before I leave the subject of Thames pill boxes for this trip, some quick research revealed that these are not just any-old lumps of long-forgotten concrete. Oh no, They have Categories. In fact, most of the ones we saw were FW3s, no less! One of the things about FW3s, apparently, is that the Type 22 and Type 24 FW3s are often confused. Which is entirely understandable. Especially when theyre covered in ivy.
I was slightly disappointed to learn that none of the ones we spotted could possibly have been "Eared Pillboxes" or "Essex Lozenges", because of their location. But the (distant) prospect of retirement is no longer so daunting as theres clearly enough to give weeks of fascinating entertainment here.
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| Thames Valley Skiff Club attempts a rescue! (but ultimately fails as some people need to learn to help themselves.) |
Not the one in Woolwich (we were a LONG way up river of that), but one created by our accompanying Edwardian launch trying to help a very long narrow boat which had obviously made a hash of getting round one of the more meandering corners in a cross-wind, and had run aground on the shallow sandy edge of the river (you may have heard comments in the news this year about rivers no longer being dredged – Im not commenting, just saying...).
Our launch threw them a long line, which was dropped in the river, and then rescued by another of our skiffs. There was some pulling, some churning of the sandy bottom, some reversing, and eventually the narrowboat was afloat! But within a few seconds, theyd run aground again, and at this point, we bade them goodbye, as we had a lot of miles to go between there and our evening stop point. There were certainly advantages in being in short boats on this wiggly stretch of the river.
Designer labels
So, by the time we reached the Wallingford stretch on Day 2, the Thames was no longer the small, playful thing it had been in the first 30 miles. It was wide. People were doing grown-up things on it (no, not THAT kind of grown-up thing...) like high-performance rowing, and large pleasure boats (careful) plied up and down with day trippers aboard. The cruiser count was going through the roof. The Thames was no longer a child.
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| So excited to be approaching my favourite bridge! |
Rabbiting on
The top snack of this trip was the Malteser Bunny. The Land Team had bought a large box of them, in a moment of inspiration at the cash and carry.
The last stretch on Day 2 was a substantial 4 miles from Mapledurham Lock and, being a touch weary by this point, we decided that we would break this up by having a short pause half way through this when we would consume the Malteser Bunnies wed slipped into our dry bags at lunch time. We didnt half push on to that half way point, Ill tell you!
Once we got there, and were discussing the "ears first vs bum first" approach between munches, the boat drifted a good 400m. These were duly christened "bunny meters", a phrase that has subsequently slipped into Thames Valley Skiff Club parlance for any distance made good due to long stream whilst not actually rowing (normal skiff outings involve swapping over the person coxing at 1/3 and 2/3 into the outing).
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| Energetic Cyclist is not amused as his bike has broken. The dog is not amused as he can no longer run along with Energetic Cyclist. |
... would be delighted to go out in the midday sun, but as there wasnt any, we went out in some biting headwinds (our breaks were as important for thawing out the coxes as they were for refuelling the skiffers). And on Day 3, we got the downpour that had been forecast. As the rain began to fall, we were were no more that half way through the fairly long stretch between Hambledon and Hurley Locks, and as TSP and I were already at the back of the fleet (again)*, and we were darned of we were going to get left further behind by stopping to put our waterproofs on. Reasoning that as we were shorter and thinner than the others so would hit fewer raindrops we pressed on for the next lock, where we got our coats on just before it REALLY started to hammer down.
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| You wont see this in the Boat Race. |
The cox of one of the other crews was spotted using an umbrella to keep dry whilst coxing, which has been a long-held ambition of mine. Impressively, he was also drinking a cup of tea at the same time AND steered a perfectly good line. Perhaps men CAN multitask after all?
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| Large pieces of foam. |
The Thames "leaves home"
Our trip ended at the Boundary Stone, about 250m below Teddington Lock, which marks the official end of the non-tidal Thames (there must be a reason why this offical line isnt at Teddington Lock itself, but none us us knows what it is). This is where the Thames leaves the confines of its safely locked upriver stretches, and sets off for London town roistering about, experiencing tides, and eventually heading out to sea to seek adventure.
What a mess!
This was my second meander, but Ive spent much of the past 30 years rowing regularly on several stretches of the upper Thames, and have done several other expedition rows on sections of it too. But what stuck in my mind above everything else on this trip was the total mess that the river was in.
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| A major spring-clean is needed. |
"Most of us need support in order to achieve"
Our meander took place at the same time as the Devizes to Westminster Canoe Race. Despite being only a mile longer, this is a much more gruelling event, not least because its non-stop. A first-time competitor this year was Olympic rowing gold medallist Ben Hunt-Davies who, despite having been a top-class athlete, found the event extremely tough (see my above comments about Disneyland...). Afterwards, Ben wrote of how "Having the right people around you makes such a difference. Whether it is the people in your boat, your immediate support team or other cheerleaders along the way." I couldnt agree more, so three massive cheers for TSP, our coxes, the other crews, Verity the launch and, of course, our fantastic Land Team (even if they did leave the chopping boards in Reading).
Event: Private Expedition
Where: Lechlade to Teddington, on the River Thames
Distance: 124 miles
Locks: 44
Time: 4 days – it was a tour!
Boat type: Thames skiffs
Number of crews in the event: 5 (coxed doubles)
Event Organiser: www.tvsc.co.uk (ourselves)
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| The End. |
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