We decided to stay here in Skipton last night. The weather was still pretty manky, and we’d stayed in the centre of Manchester and Leeds with no bother, so what could happen in Skipton?
Well, apart from the drunken oafs yorping and arguing till the early hours, some scroat nicked our boat-hook! Another boater found an old disreputable one floating next to his boat this morning, and was walking down the line of moorers checking if it was missing off any of the boats. When I realised ours was missing I adopted the old one. Mags has a theory that a boater took ours and left his old one in the canal. I’m not quite so cynical, preferring to think that both were taken and thrown in by local louts. Ours must have floated further away than I looked. It’s like on touring caravan sites. There’s got to be an element of trust between moorers, else where are you?
Anyway, Howard, Melanie and Laura arrived late morning for a visit, so we caught up with the news. Howard is moving to S Ireland! He's been out there a few times recently, and he’s not been really settled since he lost his wife, Barbara. Good luck to him, but he will be missed in Ingleton.
Howard had to go to Settle to deal with something for work, so, as we were moving anyway, I suggested that we take Mel and Laura to Gargrave by boat, and he could pick them up there.
So we set off soon after lunch, and had a damp and breezy passage to just before Holme Bridge lock, the first of the Gargrave 6.
Howard picked up the passengers, then Val and Johnny turned up on their way home from Skipton. She’d made me a belated birthday cake! Good, too. It didn’t last very long. They stayed for about an hour, then left us to our own devices.
Locks 0, miles 4, bridges 5.