One Man on a Boat

I took the boat out on Saturday.

First, a trip up the Floating Harbour to get petrol. There is no petrol available on the canal, so a short walk involved to the local petrol station, just past the SS Great Britain,

with TWO jerrycans (won't get caught like that again!). Then back under Prince St bridge which is only about 8 inches clearance (which I suspect is why my whip aerial is broken) and through the city.After joining the Avon the first lock is Hanham. I moored the stern first, but the current swung the bow out. I clambered along the deck to fetch the bow line and found myself in the water, clinging to the side, unable to climb back up. Fortunately a muscular passer-by rushed to the rescue and hauled me out, dragging me up by the wrists, scraping my chest over the rim of the deck (I have never screamed in agony like that).

No spare trousers, so damp jeans for the weekend. Through the lock and the next 5 mostly in company with other boats. There are very few places to moor up the canal so I aimed for a pub just short of Bath (which unfortunately was closed for renovation, so a lonely night lay ahead). I woke at 3am, unable to move or breathe, utterly and painfully exhausted. That was a result of forgetting my medication several times. Spent the next 36 hours waking and sleeping, in a cold sweat, unable to reach the loo, 2 feet away, except after an hour's trying. Spent Sunday like that and chucking up anything  I tried to swallow, until about 7pm, when I was able to retie the boat which had been banging against the pontoon in the wind all day. I decided to make it through the next lock (Weston) to find a better mooring in Bath. Of course, as soon as I left the bank, the engine cut out. That's where the two jerrycans came in. Filled up while drifting, made the lock, and found the visitor moorings by the Dolphin, which were thoroughly overgrown and neglected (I must emither BWB). I nosed the boat into the brambles and scrambled ashore through the nettles and brambles, unable to see where the bank began, armed with spikes, mallet and and the mooring lines. Borrowed a metal mallet from the other boat as smashed my wooden one. Went to bed at 9, still exhausted, having discovered I could successfully vomit over the side whilst steering.
Monday at 9am I heard the other boat start up, so I scrambled out of bed, dragged the spikes out and followed them back to the lock. There were 12 of them, so I had company and help through the next 2 locks. After that I lost them and did the next 5 myself, which I was quite impressed with.
At Keynsham, I stopped to find petrol and food (first for 36 hours). The petrol station I was directed to was about 1000 miles away, so I gave up after 2 miles. Walking back, an ancient MGB stopped to offer me a lift (having seen me walk the other way). The nice man took me to the petrol station and took me back to the boat, which was more than kind. There are some lovely people around.
At Hanham, I helped a boat up, closed the top gates, let the water out and opened the lower gates, which both blew shut in the wind just as I walked around to the other side. 6 gates in one lock!
A long slog back to Bristol, without hitting anything and finally moored up back at Bordeaux Quay, where my new mate Ross appeared. We had a long chat about me accosting Mel the other day and how I should try to to move on (no chance at the moment).

In the morning, I signed up with a couple of job agencies, and caught the train home, exhausted, aching and grateful to have survived.

Things to remember: charge the phone/take charger; take 3 days food and drink; hold on at all times; buy further jerrycan (fill and never use); take the tablets; find a toilet brush