Life on Joe's Blog

Dry Land

Sat, 06 Apr 2019 21:30:00 +0000

This is the ninth of the eight boat stories, and quite possibly the last.

“May the road rise up to meet you”, goes the saying.

In eight years I spent living on a boat, the water did rise up to meet me quite suddenly once or twice: one minute ‘down there’ and the next ‘rushing up to meet me at speed’. On other occasions, during floods, it rose slowly, deliberately, made its point and then ebbed away.

Guyana

Sat, 06 Apr 2019 21:00:00 +0000

This is the eighth, and penultimate, of the eight boat stories.

My first boat, Dawn, arrived with a Lister LR2 diesel engine. When I bought her, the boat was about 20 years old, but the engine was double that. What lives, I wondered, had the engine had before it ended up in a boat?

It wasn’t a terribly long after that that my father laid his hands on a very slightly better engine, a Lister SR2, and convinced me that it would be in my interests to swap engines. The Great Engine Swap ensued. And you can read about it here, here and here.

Wot? No Diesel?

Sat, 06 Apr 2019 20:00:00 +0000

This is the seventh of the eight boat stories.

Canal boats aren’t quiet. They may seem that way from a distance, but, when underway, the captain is often unable to hear the first mate over the sound of the engine. Important communications, such as offers of cups of tea often go unheard. At least, that’s the most generous interpretation of the occasional lack of tea. (One mustn’t take a cynical approach to boating; that way lies bow thrusters).

Icebergs

Sat, 06 Apr 2019 19:00:00 +0000

This is the sixth of the eight boat stories.

Boats are akin to swans. Which is to say that they’re like icebergs. Whatever their appearance, there’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than you’d think. On an afternoon stroll down the river, one might spot one or more boats, swans and / or icebergs. And unless someone’s having a really bad day, you probably won’t see what lies beneath any of them.

Balti Express and other Imaginary Boats

Sun, 06 Jan 2019 00:00:00 +0000

This is the fifth of the eight boat stories.

People get funny ideas when it comes to naming boats. After all, our boat is called Monstronauticus and it’s virtually the only name that my wife and I could agree on. Our son happily avoided a similar fate.

Who can explain it

The phenomenon can be explained by good old British bureaucracy. Like cars, every boat must be registered and licensed. On the canals they chose a numbering system. On the Thames, where numbers are impersonal and insufficiently poetic, the name is the numberplate. I was allowed to keep my first boat’s name when I brought her onto the river, but was warned that I might have to change if a pre-existent ‘Dawn’ came to light.

Going in

Mon, 31 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000

This is the fourth of the eight boat stories.

Experts agree: the best way to learn something in depth is immersion. Whether you’re trying to pick up a new language or learn a new skill like boating: in at the deep end, you’ll be the wiser for it.

Many boaters will say that you’re not a real boater unless you’ve fallen in ’the cut’. ‘The cut’ refers to the canal, which is usually only a couple of feet deep, rendering the point about depth moot. Rivers are another beast altogether.

What's that sound?

Sun, 30 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000

This is the third of the eight boat stories.

I spent the first week aboard my floating home-to-be surrounded by the sounds of nature trampled underfoot by the chugging of the diesel engine, the wail of tungsten carbide disc on steel, underscored by a whirring petrol generator. Though nature is famously noisy, that week definitely represented the triumph of industry over environment.

That is not to say that the soundscape was entirely unsubtle. We spent happy hours gliding through canals, the gentle rippling of the water as it bubbled and folded round the stern. Even in these quiet moments we were not entirely alone with nature. The occasional scrape as we glid over submerged shopping trolleys reminded us that we were cruising man-made waters excavated, then filled, by hand.

Hoisting the flag

Sun, 18 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

This is the second of the eight boat stories.

Whatever happened to that Lister LR2 engine that valiantly got us from Staffordshire to Oxford on only one cylinder? That was hoisted out and replaced with a model with only marginally higher horsepower?

It sat in my father’s shed for years. That is, until I met someone that I knew I wanted to spend my life with. And not all that long after we got to know each other I started to hatch a plan.

Eight Boat Stories

Sat, 17 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

November, fast unfolding as I speak, marks eight years since I stepped onto a boat and called it home. Boat-buying typically starts in summer, when all is bright, exciting and verdant (if you’re lucky). Like house-buying, it can take ages. There’s an array of things to fix: Surveys, licenses, insurance and, in my case, an engine. I’m not the first to move in just as a brutal winter descends.

Like an ever rolling stream

Writing it down, eight years doesn’t seem like all that much. But in that time I’ve had three jobs, three engines, two boats, one wife and a child. I haven’t counted precisely how many days it’s been so far, but I have convinced myself to sleep in a steel box floating in oft perilous water thousands of times. In years to come I will look back on this time and there will be stories to tell. And what stories!

Listers never break

Sat, 17 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

This is the first of the eight boat stories. There will be more to come, including more engine excitement.

After much searching, I found the boat that I wished to call home. Dawn, for it was she, was moored in Staffordshire. My father and I both booked precious time off work and, after testing the suspension and kicking the tyres, we set off for the week-long journey. Destination: Oxford.

We planned a journey that took us along the Shropshire Union Canal, Grand Union and Oxford canals. There were probably others (it gets a bit complicated round Birmingham). On our journey we passed through tunnels, diversions, and lots of locks.

Remembering Barbara Newman

Tue, 13 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Barbara Helen Newman was my grandmother. She died aged 99. I would like to write a few things down to celebrate her life, keep her stories going and tell you a bit about her. Of course her personality and presence is what really counts, but I’m not sure I have the ability to adequately distill a description of her character out of the day-to-day interactions I had with her. Her quips and word-play were quick off the tongue but just as ephemeral. She was a linguist and a musician. She played the piano and was particularly fond of Schumann. She had a fierce intelligence and quick wit, a playful relationship with words and bags of character. But rather than attempt to describe her character I shall relate character-forming stories that I remember her telling me.

Annointing the Threshold

Fri, 03 Feb 2017 22:00:00 +0000

A couple of years ago I fished a large chunk of wood out of the river. It had a very satisfactory heft, oblongularity and poise. A piece of timber solid not only in body, but in character. In short: a perfect doorstep.

I spotted it floating in a weir and thought ’that would make a fine doorstep’. We shan’t dwell on the story of how I hoisted it out of the river and, in exchange, lost my brand new, favourite, and first ever, pair of sunglasses. Suffice it to say, it took a length of rope, a boat hook and about ten minutes (it also took something else, but I can always get another pair next time I visit Massachusetts).

Why I'm giving up on Facebook

Sun, 22 Jan 2017 22:00:00 +0000

One of my new year’s resolutions is to try and be more intentional about the way I lead my life. That includes a close look at habits and deeply wired-in behaviours.

Last year I had the epiphany that whilst chocolate, ginger nuts, IRN BRU and sugary comestibles were very enticing and almost unthinkable to give up, I’m far better off without them in my life. I’ve known this for at least 15 years, but last summer I actually did something about it.

Snowing now, is it?

Fri, 13 Jan 2017 22:00:00 +0000

My wife sent me an email. It conveyed words to the effect:

It is snowing!

I replied:

Is it now

We make a point of sending each other grammatically ambigious emails.

And that made me realise that in the sentence

“Now it is snowing”

has at least two levels of word-order to contend with.

First Honey

Mon, 26 Sep 2016 00:00:55 +0000

I’m not in it for the honey.

A refrain I’ve repeated for a year and a half. Bees are the most incredible creatures. I think humans are hard-wired to find fascinating what bees are hard-wired to do. A social insect, forming colonies from which intelligent behaviour seems to emerge. An insect which, on an individual basis seems to have enough character to be charming, but when viewed in great numbers is inescapably prone to anthropomorphism.

Christmas Lights Competition 2015

Tue, 15 Dec 2015 14:52:33 +0000

Standards are high at the annual Christmas lights event. It’s important that every entry is a strong in order to outperform the competition.

The First Death

Mon, 29 Jun 2015 11:34:19 +0000

Inspecting a beehive is the central mystical ritual of beekeeping. Seeing the bees at work, spotting the queen scuttling around and appraising the hard work they are all doing is, I’ll be honest, one of the major draws for me. It’s something that should be done as infrequently as possible because it disrupts the hive, stresses the bees and interferes with the environmental conditions that they’re trying to maintain. At the height of inspection season no more than once every few days.

Beekeepers go to great lengths not to damage or kill insects. But sometimes it does happen.

The Timelapse Beehive

Thu, 25 Jun 2015 08:57:32 +0000

Some background to timelapsebeehive.com

I’ve wanted to keep bees for 20 years, and I’m finally getting round to doing it. There’s a lot of nonsense going around about how it’s a new middle-class fad, but I recently dug this book out. It’s called the Golden Throng and it was printed in the 1940s.

Feeding Bees

Wed, 24 Jun 2015 20:44:50 +0000

To start with something worth saying:

**Do not feed bees honey. **If you find a tired bee, mix it up some sugar solution. One crystal of caster sugar to one drop of water should do. Honey from the shops, which is usually from a foreign country, and even honey from a more local hive can contain fungal spores which can cause serious diseases, like American Foul Brood.

Now that’s over, let’s move from feeding individual bees to the feeding of tens of thousands.

In my post on the installation of a nucleus I showed the improvised bottle contact-feeder in action.

Achieving Bees

Mon, 22 Jun 2015 11:23:31 +0000

There are a number of ways one can acquire bees. To paraphrase Twelfth Night:

but be not afraid of bees: some are born to bees, some achieve bees, and some have bees thrust upon them.

Some people catch swarms. My great uncle Ronald had a hive thrust upon him. Although I’m the third generation of bee-keepers in my family, I wasn’t born to them (the previous two generations being predecessors but not ancestors). I went with the safer and easier option and obtained a nucleus from a local bee-keeper.

The hive

Sun, 10 May 2015 14:30:00 +0000

A couple of boxes arrived for me at work. There was a gorgeous aroma coming from them.

The Golden Throng

Sun, 10 May 2015 13:32:07 +0000

When I visited my parents at Christmas I re-discovered a book. It was given to me by my great-uncle Ronald.

The Golden Throng: A Book About Bees.

Unexpectedly good snow photos

Tue, 03 Feb 2015 11:02:01 +0000

Snow today. To work, via a snowy field. Stopped to take some photos using panorama mode on my Blackberry Passport. They came out rather better than expected. Click on them to view full size.

Taking apart a Nokia 105

Sun, 19 Jan 2014 22:26:38 +0000

New year reflection led me to the conclusion that perhaps having email, twitter, facebook and the Internet at large following me round in my pocket all the time wasn’t a great idea, so I thought I’d get a phone that wasn’t afraid to revisit issues of self-identity. The Nokia 105 makes phone calls, sends texts, has an FM radio and not much else. I’m very happy with it.

Getting to work in the 2014 Oxford floods

Tue, 07 Jan 2014 12:03:39 +0000

Flood water waist deep. Bit of a challenge getting out. Thames towpath below Oxford flooded knee-deep in places, just breaching at Donnington bridge. Someone in the University College boathouse shouted that I should be careful of sharks.

Interview Questions

Fri, 02 Aug 2013 12:46:56 +0000

I have recently been on the job hunt (and come out of it with a new job, thanks for asking). I talked to a number of interesting organisations and answered a proportionally interesting number of questions. No less interesting is that fact that nearly all of these questions, whilst being ideal interview material, were also the kind of questions that would come up every day as part of the job.

International Bagpipe Day at the Pitt Rivers

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 13:41:51 +0000

An event to celebrate the second International Bagpipe Day! Held at the Pitt Rivers museum, Oxford.

Thursday: Gas Mission.

Thu, 29 Nov 2012 13:26:44 +0000

Abingdon road still under a bit of water, but it’s now receding. I ran out of gas, which means no tea and no hot water. So I went on a gas mission.

Tuesday: Floods reach Abingdon Road

Tue, 27 Nov 2012 17:50:55 +0000

Today, Tuesday. Deepest yet; getting out of my boat I was plunged waist-deep. The river is bringing it to the residents of Abingdon Road. A lunchtime stroll.

Street deserted of cars. Very quiet.

Oxford Flooding: The Cold Light of Monday

Mon, 26 Nov 2012 14:48:08 +0000

A short lunchtime stroll on Monday after a weekend of flooding. The water is still rising and becoming worryingly strong in places (both in the river and across footpaths thigh-deep).

Flooding in Oxford

Sat, 24 Nov 2012 09:33:24 +0000

I came home last night and was just about able to make it in wellington boots on tip-toe. Come 1am my landing stage was covered. Up at 7am to check things over and have a stroll. It came up almost to my waist in places. I wouldn’t drink this stuff.

Putting the Engine Back : video

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 13:10:40 +0000

I posted some pictures about the removal of the old engine but never got round to its replacement. Time to correct that. The old Lister LR2 was replaced with and older SR2.

Birthday Shinbash

Sun, 09 Sep 2012 17:17:45 +0000

A few shaky photos from a magnificent 18 hour birthday stint.

Mapping Live River Conditions on the Thames

Sat, 23 Jun 2012 10:00:12 +0000

I love going out on my boat and I do it as often as I possibly can. Unfortunately the recent rain has meant that I’ve been unable to as often as I’d like. If the current is too fast, it’s not sensible or safe to do it.

The Environment Agency has an excellent site which gives live information. But I wanted to put it on a map. Cue an evening of hunting down coordinates of every lock on the non-tidal thames (Google data is surprisingly bad) and writing an app to take data out of the online service and put it on a map. It’s fun putting things on maps.

Jaga Jazzist Concert at the Barbican

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 19:04:49 +0000

I have been a devoted fan of Jaga Jazzist, a Norwegian group (they pretty much defy description) since around 2003, when I heard one of their tracks on a sampler CD issued by the Norwegian Embassy in London. This is the third gig of theirs I have been to. The first two were in the normal venues you would expect, with a lot of space for movement in response to the music.

Graffiti Tribute to Hussain Mohammed

Wed, 13 Jun 2012 12:53:36 +0000

I live not far from the spot where Hussein Mohammed jumped in the Thames and drowned. Local youths have spray-painted their tributes in the underside of the bridge. Touching.

Grime and paint. : pictures

Sun, 13 May 2012 19:47:43 +0000

In the week after the engine came out, I was left with access to my bilges. These are usually hidden away behind an unmovable wooden wall, with access blocked by the engine. As far as I can tell these had not seen the light of day for two decades (my boat was built in 1993 and there are no signs of the engine having been out since then). It appears that they weren’t even painted, or if they were, there’s no paint left.

I was appalled at the state of them, frankly. The rust was thick, and not in a good way. My boat is my home, as well as my boat, and the sign of that much rust really wasn’t a very comforting thought.

The Great Engine Hoist : pictures

Sun, 13 May 2012 19:35:44 +0000

I come from an engineering family. I know no-one who enjoys playing with engines more than my father. Within days of me buying a boat he had opened up the engine and taken the cylinders off to re-fit the piston rings. Admittedly, the reason he did this is that the engine had failed and we were stranded thirty miles outside Oxford with an immobile boat. But I have a feeling it would have happened anyway sooner or later.

Clandestine Mazurka, Brighton

Sun, 06 May 2012 23:47:28 +0000

Music in the bandstand in Brighton. Cold wind and rain by turns. We played and danced to keep warm.

I took a couple of audio recordings but this one just seemed perfectly to sum up the day.

Putting the Potatoes In

Sat, 31 Mar 2012 19:52:16 +0000

I’ve had an allotment since November, but I came into possession of it just in time to wind up the year’s efforts and withdraw indoors. I spent some time before Christmas digging over a patch (what turned out to be a small patch in the grand scheme of things) before my next door neighbour turned up with a rotivator.

I am lucky enough to have a friend in Julian Cottee (of OxGrow) who furnished me with six chitting potatoes in six exciting varieties: Edzell Blue, British Queen, Isle of Jura, Salad Blue, Maris Bard, and Arran Victory. Today I cleared a patch, dug a trench and planted them.

Animals and Documents

Fri, 30 Mar 2012 18:30:59 +0000

A friend asked on Facebook why there were no documents penned by animals. He claimed that ’not a single one was to my knowledge written by an animal other than a human’. I disagree. Here are some notable quotes I have collected on the subject.

‘A cat could no more write a thesis on the plight of man than a man could on the condition of being a cat’

On the Nature of Existence, Jeramiah Bullock, 1808

First Torchbox Cruise of the Season

Sun, 25 Mar 2012 20:20:06 +0000

My first cruise of the 2012, the first Torchbox cruise of 2012 and the first outing for the new decking.

Mucking about in the Umeå snow

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 19:30:32 +0000

When visiting Umefolk recently we came across a snow castle in the city centre. It would have been impossible not to have a go…

The end of Umefolk 2012

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 18:23:22 +0000

Play the MP3 and imagine this. I recorded it walking through the musicians.

A weekend festival, with a 25 year heritage and massive following, is drawing to a close. Hundreds and hundreds of people must have passed through its doors. Headliners such as Garmana and Hoven Droven have drawn in crowds, impromptu sessions have brought out nyckelharpa players, and a large variety of players from all over north-east Europe have entertained and captivated. The event is winding up, and on the dance floor Anton and about 30 young people are playing for the final dance…

Umea and Umefolk

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 16:26:32 +0000

I spent the last week at Umefolk, a folk music festival in Umeå in the north of Sweden. We met Anton Teljebäck, who runs the festival, at a small festival in the UK and he invited us. Umefolk is well established (the first was in 1986), and Anton was keen to spread the word further afield.

We are no strangers to Scandanavian music in Oxford. There is a budding session which has found its feet in the last few months, run by Ed Pritchard, who plays a nyckelharpa amongst other things. I also listen to whatever I can get my hands on on Spotify and around the web. So we jumped at the chance to go.

Agency, empathy and the 0736 service to Manchester Piccadilly

Mon, 20 Feb 2012 08:54:02 +0000

I am sorry to announce that the 0736 service to Manchester Piccadilly is delayed by approximately 40 minutes due to engineering works. I am extremely sorry for the severe disruption to the service.

Luckily I wasn’t trying to get to Manchester Piccadilly, but from the reaction on the platform someone was. This well-spoken automatic pre-recorded announcement was clear, and told us everything we immediately needed to know. It was spoken courteously in perfect Recieved Pronunciation. It is the same voice that is used to announce all the official goings-on at Platform 2 of Oxford Station, and at stations across the country. I quite enjoy hearing the voice if I’m honest.

A snowy journey to work

Fri, 10 Feb 2012 11:32:21 +0000

I’m not normally given to taking photos of my commute, but in the case of the snow I made an exception.

Old entries from simpler times: Busking

Tue, 07 Feb 2012 23:09:31 +0000

Whilst going over (and deleting) unwanted content on Facebook, I came across a few bits and pieces. I miss busking.

Found this old post from 4th August 2007.

Day five of ‘my’ Fringe, and the thought police are out in force. It feels like day two to me, but a lot has happened (including a technical rehearsal that finished at midnight, a street urchin and a stand-up routine about health and safety). The Fringe is getting started proper and potential audiences wonder round the city being picked off by hungry flyer-ers.

A polecat comes to visit.

Mon, 30 Jan 2012 13:09:37 +0000

I put my rubbish out on the deck last night. Today I heard a rustling and looked out to see a polecat had come aboard, unbidden, and nicked some pasty packaging.

For those unsure what a polecat is, wikipedia defines it thus:

A polecat is an animal.

Here is a video of the encounter. I can see why they named this animal ‘polecat’. It’s a bit like a pole and a bit like a cat.

The Annual Squash Balancing Ritual

Fri, 04 Nov 2011 00:56:50 +0000

There are few events more sought after and exclusive than the annual Balancing of the Squash. This happens in a secret location, late at night, early in November. This ritual has roots in the ancient culture of a secret society known as ’the Box of the Torch'.

Tonight the participants excelled both themselves and in some cases, each other.

It’s a legume.

Day of the Dead

Wed, 02 Nov 2011 23:42:58 +0000

Today is Day of the Dead. The Hurly-Burly-Bright-And-Early Band was out in force this evening celebrating. Or rather, mourning the passing of the Summer. Exactly six months to the day (give or take) since May Day.

My pipe is at a worrying angle.

Cooking with Wood

Tue, 01 Nov 2011 18:25:22 +0000

After success with a pizza, I’ve decided to try cooking in my wood burning stove. Little steps. Today I tried melting some cheese over some gnocchi.

A good start. If I’m honest, this wasn’t anything more than melting some cheese. Next time I might actually cook something. And that’s pepper not ash in the last photo.

Walking Home in the Dark

Tue, 01 Nov 2011 17:47:40 +0000

It’s that time of year again. This winter I am working for a company with offices in the middle of a country estate. To get home you have to walk through a copse and over a sheep field.

I enjoy walking in the dark immensely. I have always enjoyed it. I like to the extent that I find flashlights genuinely offensive in the dark (until you’ve dropped something). When I’m out in the dark and quiet I feel like the space that I inhabit expands a little. My own little personal bubble grows and weakens and I feel a bit more connected with everything. I am more aware of noises and movement around me in the half-light of the gloaming.

The Stage Hand: The Flyerer

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 18:24:43 +0000

Back in the day I used to do a lot of sound and lighting for student theatre. I did a lot in Oxford, and went up to Edinburgh a number of times to do the Edinburgh Fringe. I did not go to Oxford University, but I did hang around with a lot of people who did. Once or twice I contributed to a theatre column in a student paper. It’s a bit thespy because it’s okay to experiment with language when you’re young. Reprinted here because why not.

Stage Whispers: The Techie

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 18:21:25 +0000

Back in the day I used to do a lot of sound and lighting for student theatre. I did a lot in Oxford, and went up to Edinburgh a number of times to do the Edinburgh Fringe. I did not go to Oxford University, but I did hang around with a lot of people who did. Once or twice I contributed to a theatre column in a student paper. It’s a bit thespy because it’s okay to experiment with language when you’re young. Reprinted here because why not.

Stage Whispers: The Stage Hand

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 18:16:53 +0000

Back in the day I used to do a lot of sound and lighting for student theatre. I did a lot in Oxford, and went up to Edinburgh a number of times to do the Edinburgh Fringe. I did not go to Oxford University, but I did hang around with a lot of people who did. Once or twice I contributed to a theatre column in a student paper. It’s a bit thespy because it’s okay to experiment with language when you’re young. Reprinted here because why not.

Boat from Home

Mon, 24 Oct 2011 21:44:37 +0000

Like most, I grew up in a house. These perform a number of functions. A safe place to sleep, eat and raise a family come fairly high in the list, as do entertaining guests and storing things. The house doesn’t undergo any substantial change in order to fulfil these different functions. It largely stays put. In effort to impress the guests you might re-arrange the furniture, clean the windows or hide the cat. The prime change is in the disposition of the house dweller, who changes their mental state in order to fulfill the task of getting through another day, feeding the children again or keeping the guests entertained until it’s time for them to go home.

Today I Have Been Mostly Chopping Wood

Sun, 23 Oct 2011 17:04:44 +0000

Today I chanced upon some logs. So I took them home…

… and went at them with a hatchet…

I reckon that’s a few weeks’ worth of warm evenings some time around winter 2012.

Some people are worrying about the cost of heating their homes. I’m out scouting for wood.

Any woodologists able to identify what this might be and if it’ll burn obligingly? Failing that, practising xylologists?

One Last Joke

Fri, 25 Mar 2011 16:42:20 +0000

Immediately after leaving university I joined a software company, and stayed there for 2 years and 8 months. It was serious slice of life. I’m glad I spent it there, but I’m also glad I left. Over the almost-three-years, my self-control wavered from time to time. I enjoy a joke, and if there’s a practical element, all the better.

In his goodbye speech, my manager went over the list of things I had done in my time there, including several practical jokes.