Continuing the passage to Guildford in hot sun but with quite a strong breeze, there’s a sharp hairpin bend just before Guildford where one struggles to get round tidily at the best of times in a long narrow boat.

There’s also a break in the tree shelter belt just there,  and the wind that day was broadside on to the boat at the critical point: despite all best efforts Song & Dance decided to go her own way, and ended up aground on the bank halfway round the bend under a weeping willow, gently touching the trunk. There was no one watching and no  damage apart from to her pride, so no harm done. The numerous fresh scars and assorted paintwork marks on the tree trunk suggested that we had made a rather better fist of it than some who had passed that way earlier…

The lovely weather had also brought the gongoozlers out in force at the lock in Guildford.

The transit through Guildford town centre is interesting, and quite quick: it’s a compact city.

There’s some interesting ironmongery at the town wharf, and it’s handy for The Electric Theatre  cafe.

It’s a bit close to where the yoof gather of an evening though, so I’m not sure we’d want to moor there overnight. Not sure  how the statement “Electricity Works” is supposed to be taken, although it certainly was at 19:13 that evening, as the chief cook listened to the Archers until the end without any electrical interruptions. It’s handy for the picture house, too.

But no worries, we’d taken the precaution of reserving a spot at Dapdune Wharf a few hundred metres down the water.

A pleasant wander through the Guildford – Godalming hinterland, and we were soon at Catteshall Boat House and lock. Tied up abreast in the middle of the canal, it started with a pump-out; then we remembered that we needed a new Calor Gas cylinder. Then, being so close to the diesel pump it seemed rude not to partake, and Song & Dance was rather emptier than we suspected, taking on over 120 litres of fuel. A rather expensive pit-stop.

Half a mile further on, moored up on Godalming Town Wharf and conveniently situated for Sainsburys and Waitrose, we found (a) we were out of wine and (b) the latter had a special 25% off wine if you buy in bulk.  Another expensive pit-stop. With the old credit cards licking their wounds we went for a wander round town.

Our knowledge of Godalming is really down to either a quick whizz round the ring road on the way to Winkworth Arboretum, or occasional visits in the dark for the estimable GBH Ceilidhs to the Borough Hall (which is just over the bridge on the way in) . So we were rather surprised to find that there was quite a lot of town centre we’d never seen, much of it pleasant and of some vintage.

As well as satisfying the chief cook’s shopping urges, a quick tour round the Museum ensued: a fascinating building as well as interesting contents. It’s normally closed on Mondays, but an old friend, archivist and – it must be said – Morris dancer, was working there that day so we had a private tour. (That’s her peering at a heavy tome on the Museum web-site).

We were all really rather taken with Godalming, particularly after visiting the eclectic and infamous Record Corner.

Moving across from the wharf to more amenable moorings on the towpath, another thing that hadn’t occurred to us was that horse-drawn barges not only have a horse a long way in front (that’s Maisy above with her mistress) , but need someone whose job it is to lift the rope up and over obstructions such as moored boats. Unwarily emerging up on deck through the rear hatch at an inopportune time could result in an epitaph even more bizarre than ending up as duck food or impaled on a swan. Still, it’s another good reason for keeping the roof clear of obstacles.

We’d stayed on in Godalming another night, vaguely expecting a visit from Fran’s niece which didn’t materialise. But no mind, it’s a nice place to mooch around, with plenty of supermarkets, shops, eateries and charity shops to keep the crew interested.

We had to stop at Dapdune Wharf, as tucked behind it is the main office for the Wey and Godalming Navigation, on which we had been floating for nearly a week without a licence. The paperwork completed, the wharf itself was unoccupied, so we were cleared to stay there overnight: a good job, as we were expecting friends to join us there the next morning! (When the book says there’s overnight moorings, they normally mean for more than one boat).

Another of those places with an entrance that we’ve driven past hundreds of times but never visited, the wharf is rather fine, and although literally in the middle of Guildford, it’s tucked away behind the Surrey Cricket Club ground, five minutes walk from the main shopping streets. Again, seemingly remote and cut-off from the world, apart from the trains crossing Dapdune Viaduct, which are strangely noisy.

Reliance the wooden Wey barge looked very big “dry docked”, and was still in use until it collided with Cannon Street Bridge in 1968, and sank.

Biggles was very taken with the wharf and environs, particularly once the day-trippers had departed and we had the place to ourselves.

Less impressed were the young magpies who clearly regarded the Captain as a threat, and spent every minute he was ashore flapping around and making a serious racket, until he got bored and wandered back onto the boat. (If you click on the picture and look carefully, you can see one of them “gi’in it laldy” trying to scare him off). Still, at least there were two magpies, so a reason to be joyful.

Said friends duly arrived half-an-hour early on the Saturday morning, which caused some initial panic amongst the cleaning staff, but the sun was warm and bright, and set fair for boating.

We’d always been a bit put off by the Basingstoke Canal: apart from some past Easter Rallys at Woking there never seemed to be any boats around when we passed by or over; and it often looked a bit weed infested or overgrown. We’d hear the stories about lack of water, low pounds and subsequent closures, and seen that to go anywhere you needed to book a passage through the various lock flights in advance (not really our style of boating). All a bit intimidating, really. So even a few days before arriving at Thames Lock we weren’t sure how we’d get on, or even if we would make it.

The reality was quite different. The people from Basingstoke Canal Authority (a strange Hampshire & Surrey County Council hybrid who run the canal), the Basingstoke Canal Society (who did most of the restoration and help keep it in good condition) and the Basingstoke Canal Boat Club (who represent the interests of boaters) were all friendly, enthusiastic, and happy to accommodate the Captain’s lack of planning.

We never went aground in any meaningful manner, the locks (although plentiful and all at one end) were pretty vice-less, and by and large much better maintained than those on most of the Canal and River Trust canals. The Rangers / Lock Keepers went out of their way to be helpful, and all in all it was a lovely and drama free trip. The rally and other festivities at Odiham were just the icing on the cake. We’re really glad we made the effort.

As most of the canal is a wildlife haven (we even saw deer in the daytime in several places),  and the water supply at the summit is limited, there is apparently a restriction on the annual number of passages up and down the canal, but at the moment the number of actual visitors doesn’t come anywhere close. That said, mooring – apart from those few but well sited spots specifically set up as mooring sites – is problematical. If numbers increase then more will be needed.

There’s a widely held perception (by boaters, who pay to use the canals), that the Canal and River Trust are more interested in walkers, cyclists and wildlife (who don’t pay anything) than boating and maintaining the navigation. The most frequent comment from passers by on the Basingstoke Canal at locks and on the towpath was “Oh, it’s so nice to see boats actually using the canal, we hardly ever see any”.  Food for thought for CaRT perhaps… particularly given the rumours that Surrey and Hampshire Councils might like them to take over the running from the Canal Authority.

Underestimating the distance, and despite an awfully early Sunday morning coming down start, we arrived with no Ranger/Lock Keeper in sight, but the padlocks were unlocked, and we weren’t expecting any company, so off we went in the cold wind and rain. The Ranger shortly appeared, said we could leave all the lock gates open as someone was coming up (hurrah) and “did you hear about Snail O’Wey?”

Seems that between locks 1 and 2 on Saturday afternoon they had shed their prop, which kind of slows progress down a bit! River and Canal Rescue (the canal equivalent of the AA or RAC) had declined to attend as “it was an accident not a breakdown” which seems a bit mean. They managed to locate the lost propeller but were unable to refit it, and were unceremoniously bow-hauled through the bottom lock by hand. On the Sunday morning someone from the nearby Byfleet Boat Club had arrived and towed them down to the Club’s base on the Wey.

Working slowly down the locks in a single boat (one of those times when even one extra crew member makes a huge difference) there were quite a few Sunday morning runners and dog walkers out, despite the miserable weather.

Turning South onto the Wey, we soon passed the wounded Sail O’Wey at the boat club: the skipper reckoned that pulling all the jute sacking out on the Deepcut flight on Friday might have dislodged/removed the split pin that keeps the prop from falling off. Let’s hope they get sorted out quickly.

Not far down the Wey comes the well known and popular Anchor at Pyrford Lock, immediately opposite Pyrford Marina. Mooring up for a while, the place was still busy with Sunday lunches, but a look at the washing mountain and the next few days’ weather forecast suggested the best plan was to see if the marina could put us somewhere for a couple of nights, with an electric shoreline.

And sure enough, it’s been cold and very windy: definitely not weather to be boating. Even moored up in the sheltered marina, the boat’s been blowing around in the wild weather. And come Tuesday afernoon, it’s still so windy and gusty, and forecast to remain so for another twelve hours despite the rain stopping, that we’re staying put for another night.

2nd of June, and the weather’s more like October in the Hebrides…