Poetry: sand verse

Composed in the sand at Yarmouth, Isle of White.

Crushing sand and chime of bells.
Whispering wind to shh the sea-salt sails.
Lapping waves and seaweed hairs
washes away the footsteps of the day.

The sounds of Wind Speed

I woke up today to an orchestra. It began with a drum roll of rain on the steel roof and shakers of droplets against the windows. There was a gentle hum from the mushroom vents and crackle of wind through the willow trees at the bank. Delia's morning cries for food were drowned out by the sloshing of canal water against the hull as the boat swayed to the rhythm of the wind.

Today it feels like things are on the move. I cast open the curtains to let the indoor plants breathe and the tiny knot of anxiety was dispelled. I saw that we are still moored where we should be, with both ends of the boat secured against the bank as it had been yesterday, the water level was a reasonable depth, however choppy, and we were not at an unusual angle. Phew.

I made the burner glow and got some porridge cooking.

It feels right today to publish my poem about Wind Speed in full. In accordance with the scale, today I would say is 28 knots...

And without further ado...

Wind Speed from a Narrowboat
after The Beaufort Scale of Wind Speed
by Amanda Young


≼1 knots. Calm - Like dry ground. Very little draw up chimney.
Canal still.

1-3 knots. Light air - Quiver of canal water. A whisper of wind.

4-6 knots. Light breeze - Towpath hedgerow rustles. Breeze
brushes face.

7-10 knots. Gentle breeze - Small leaves blown off roof.
Chimney smoke drifts.

11-16 knots. Moderate breeze - Faint whistling wind. Slight
groan of taught ropes. Tiny wavelets on canal.

17-21 knots. Fresh breeze - Tall grasses sway. Water sloshes
against hull. Cat scampers along towpath.

22-27 knots. Strong breeze - Rolling water at bank. More
throttle needed when moving. A librarians Shushsh!

28-33 knots. Near gale - Firewood burns rapidly. Mushroom
vents sigh. Ducks blown along canal. Avoid moving.

34-40 knots. Gale - Hanging lanterns violently sway. Rubber
fenders moan enduringly. Outside bungies metronomically
bounce. Bad day to move.

41-47 knots. Strong gale - Figure-of-eight movements felt
onboard. Screeching wind. Back-breaking work carting goods
along towpath.

48-55 knots. Storm - Difficult to walk length of boat. Ears
popping. Great waves towards gunwhale. Chimney rain-hat
will blow away.

56-63 knots. Violent storm - Do not pour boiling water.
Remove delicate items to safety. Severe spray and waves.
Keep a strong stomach.

≽64 knots. Hurricane - Never moor underneath trees. Drop
anchor. Seek alternative shelter.

Bonfire before Brum

On this cold bonfire nights evening, we ruminate on our three years of ownership of the Dove of Belgrade. It was in November 2008 we took her on and it has been a steep learning curve, one that we have got into the ebb and flo of. We have travelled the Leicester ring twice at least, done the trent to Nottingham, the GUC to London and now into Birmingham after that we are thinking of the Shropie to see in spring.

We are seasoned boaters, weathered, more experienced and prepared and in good spirits to head into winter. The routine of making the fire, doing the engine checks, dressing in thermals, moving the boat in rain, working locks and living in a compact space is second nature now. Winter and it's challenges is just part of life, a life of ropes and knots, strong arms and legs, muddy fingernails and smokey hair, self-sufficiency and resourcefulness, jumping fish and the best views in Britain.

On the winter note, I'm rather looking forward to the delightful xmas market in Birmingham with it's 'seasons greetings' smiles, fingerless gloves exchanging goods for notes, decorated wooden huts and streams of twinkling lights. In all the winters cold it brings warmth to my heart.

We are currently moored in Tamworth having spent the past couple of days in quaint Atherstone. We visited family and our good friends Rupert the photographer and Dylan the doggy-model. So we decided at Braunston to head via Rugby and up and round to Brum along the Coventry canal instead of the route through Warwick along the GUC. We plan to reach Brum centre by Monday night so I can get to Nottingham for Tuesday. I read somewhere that Birmingham has more canals than Venice so we should be good for cruising about then!

Delia has spent this evening crying at the door to go out but we'd rather she didn't enter the firing line of fireworks and we have tried to keep her busy with strokes by the wood burner.

On the creative front, I've been sending out my poetry to The Eric Gregory Award in the hope of getting some support and funding to dedicate time to make work. Also I have a 'week of tweets' piece of prose in Mslexia magazine in December - its a take on a week in the life of...

Leigh has been busy making his music in the evenings and has started a collaboration with his good friend Orla Wren. Already it sounds fantastic! Can't wait to hear the end results of Flotel vs Orla Wren.