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No Bathing in the Locks
by Jean d'Isle

"Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing -- absolutely nothing -- half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats."
-- Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

e had been in England for about six months when we decided it was time to explore the countryside. We had a fairly good grasp of the geography around London, and were starting to feel almost fluent in the language. We had long since learned that getting "knocked up" was not a medical condition; and that for some perverse reason the Brits used the term "fanny" to identify the anterior rather than posterior of the female anatomy. One mystery we were still working on was why the town of Adverse Camber was so elusive. There seemed to be several towns by this name, clearly marked by road signs; but try as we might, we were never able to spot any cluster of houses that we could positively say, "That must be Adverse Camber."

One Saturday a rare weather phenomenon in England, called "sunshine", prompted us to load up the car and head off on our great adventure. We had decided to spend a week plying the Thames in a cabin cruiser. Driving past the small town of Adverse Camber, we followed the highway signs to a location near the Tower Bridge. Here we stowed our week's supply of food aboard the boat, selected a Captain (my wife acknowledged that since I was experienced in the ways of the sea, I could hold that position until I screwed up), and pointed the bow up river toward Windsor Castle.

We all had grand visions of a relaxing, leisurely week on the scenic waterway, enjoying the rare summer sun and unique views of the English countryside. We failed to note on the navigational chart provided with the boat that the river is actually a series of locks interrupted by short stretches of water. The lock system that allows people to navigate the Thames is fascinating. Some locks are manned from dawn to dusk, others are strictly "do it yourself." Lock keepers take great pride in the appearance of the grounds around their locks; all were picture book presentations of neatly manicured grass and colorful beds of flowers.

The downside of cruising the Thames is that these locks seem to appear all too often, requiring a frantic sequence of maneuvers -- into the lock, secure and slack lines, exit the lock. If you are passing through an untended lock, you must enter, close, flood (or drain), open and exit the lock, all on your own. Each lock is posted with a warning: "No Bathing in Lock." In spite of this unequivocal warning, one of my crew members (she will not let me say who), bathed in a lock. Actually, what she did was fall in. She was holding on to the side of a lock to keep the boat from scraping as the water was pumped out. As the level dropped, she maintained her grip on the wall (I'm still afraid to ask her why). There was a point when she could have let go and stayed in the boat -- but she missed it and in she went, over her head. Fortunately, I was able to pull her out before any bobbies showed up to enforce the no bathing rule and before anything more than her dignity was damaged.

We also discovered something called a "weir." These hazards popped up about as often as the locks. They are sort of a spillway that helps maintain the water level at strategic locations along the river. One does not want to wind up in a weir. Between reacting to the locks and dodging the weirs, we found ourselves in an almost constant state of General Quarters. "Line handlers on deck," seemed to ring out just about the time you were recovering from the previous activity. So much for leisurely.

It was a unique experience and I'd recommend it to anyone who is looking for a different view of England. But be prepared for some serious line handling; and by all means, don't bathe in the locks.

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Jean d'Isle is a retired naval officer living in Hawaii.During his military career he served in a number of overseas assignments, including Germany, England, Spain, Viet Nam and Puerto Rico. Following his retirement, he was an adjunct faculty member of Hawaii Pacific University and is currently under contract with the U.S. Navy at the submarine base in Pearl Harbor.

Jean's column, View From d'Isle, is a regular feature of VegSource On-Line Magazine.