A floating mancave would suit if it could be lived in off-grid for days in any season and in any weather and if it was short enough to fit into tight spaces. The first item on the list would have to be "Length" and that would probably decide other features?
I supposed an air-cooled diesel would be a given? Diesels being noisy, beds would be away from the clamour? Crew bunking? Hygiene? Winter heating? I had been advised solid fuel only way to go. Makes sense. HOWEVER! For me coal and wood are total no-no on a boat ...
What options though?
Already this list is at eight items but this does seem a good way to find a boat.
Let's keep going then, shall we?
Storage?
Trays by a Ship's Carpenter from Grays
A large bootload of storage space
arrives at Bridge 13 on the GU
to meet an important requirement :
where to stuff 'stuff' when you need
to live in a ... Very Confined Space.
A large bootload of storage space
arrives at Bridge 13 on the GU
to meet an important requirement :
where to stuff 'stuff' when you need
to live in a ... Very Confined Space.
Looking towards the front of the boat
and underneath the main bed in 2014
Beyond the developing crew bunk
is a 200L black plastic water tank
Some day I might want or need crew?
Crew bunking an optional extra which turned out to be a very good idea ...
The man-cave is for solo 'off-grid' living
winter, summer, rain, wind or shine
and at any time I choose to be on board
and underneath the main bed in 2014
Beyond the developing crew bunk
is a 200L black plastic water tank
Some day I might want or need crew?
Crew bunking an optional extra which turned out to be a very good idea ...
The man-cave is for solo 'off-grid' living
winter, summer, rain, wind or shine
and at any time I choose to be on board
My plans for a floating man-cave,
would need to rely on my own resources
as there was no template to work from
other than a wish list and a small budgie
© [email protected] MCXIV
would need to rely on my own resources
as there was no template to work from
other than a wish list and a small budgie
© [email protected] MCXIV
lumpwood charcoal
After a week of sub-zero temperatures
on board without heat in February, 2012
a Hampshire Charcoal Heater was fitted.
21st century solution to solid-fuel heating
using the application of stone-age science
After a week of sub-zero temperatures
on board without heat in February, 2012
a Hampshire Charcoal Heater was fitted.
21st century solution to solid-fuel heating
using the application of stone-age science
Five DAYS it took to get it onto the boat
Five WEEKS to figure how to stay warm
Five YEARS to learn how to prevent
dust invading every nook on board.
But I am proud to boast that it took
only five MONTHS (across two winters!)
to learn how keep the fire burning
attention-free for ten to twelve hours.
Five WEEKS to figure how to stay warm
Five YEARS to learn how to prevent
dust invading every nook on board.
But I am proud to boast that it took
only five MONTHS (across two winters!)
to learn how keep the fire burning
attention-free for ten to twelve hours.
STORIES ON THE CUT AND OFF THE GRID
Investment in off-grid' life was the right thing to do in 2012, remains so today and I have no regrets. UK agricultural logistics are shambolic, the landed jintry queue for tomatoes and turnips while a kingfisher preens herself on my bow and I dine from a half-price pot of coleslaw-with-cheese from the other side of the window while winking at her having her fish supper
At my current location those looking down on me pay £2000 per month to rent a one bed 'flat'. The £600 average annual cost of storing a camper van doubles, trebles and quadruples in some of the desirable places I tie up at for a day or a week, a fortnight or a month. My boat licences now cost £900 for a year but I can fetch up anywhere I like and look up at those who are looking down at me parked in the view they pay for.
Sometimes we wave at each other and I can sense the nostalgia in the body language.
I got a write-off and turned it around ... There are various ways to turn a Springer around.
Investment in off-grid' life was the right thing to do in 2012, remains so today and I have no regrets. UK agricultural logistics are shambolic, the landed jintry queue for tomatoes and turnips while a kingfisher preens herself on my bow and I dine from a half-price pot of coleslaw-with-cheese from the other side of the window while winking at her having her fish supper
At my current location those looking down on me pay £2000 per month to rent a one bed 'flat'. The £600 average annual cost of storing a camper van doubles, trebles and quadruples in some of the desirable places I tie up at for a day or a week, a fortnight or a month. My boat licences now cost £900 for a year but I can fetch up anywhere I like and look up at those who are looking down at me parked in the view they pay for.
Sometimes we wave at each other and I can sense the nostalgia in the body language.
I got a write-off and turned it around ... There are various ways to turn a Springer around.
The 36' Springer is a canal version of a "Morris Minor". Accordingly, it is entirely fitting that her original ship's whistle came from a '66 Morris Minor discovered in a breaker's near Coventry.
The "Lucas WindTone" was refurbished by Autolec and 'field tested' at Hillmorton top lock where, in calm conditions, it was heard clearly on Badsey's lawn half a mile away.
Autolec also sourced Pentargon's digital voltmeters 2019-01-14 09.11.36 which read the 'working' line voltages on board.
Pentargon also had a bank of sockets [PHOTO] into which were plugged the electronic gismos normally used in the support vehicle: GPS, phone charger, USB slots, cameras, powered by an emergency starting device which also acted as an alternative power source. See it here
The "Lucas WindTone" was refurbished by Autolec and 'field tested' at Hillmorton top lock where, in calm conditions, it was heard clearly on Badsey's lawn half a mile away.
Autolec also sourced Pentargon's digital voltmeters 2019-01-14 09.11.36 which read the 'working' line voltages on board.
Pentargon also had a bank of sockets [PHOTO] into which were plugged the electronic gismos normally used in the support vehicle: GPS, phone charger, USB slots, cameras, powered by an emergency starting device which also acted as an alternative power source. See it here
Think of Pentargon as a pleased-as-punch Morris Minor, tootling up the recently-opened Rugby to Leeds section of the M1, picnic hamper in the boot, AA badge on the front bumper and a nuclear family on board, driving to freedom in 1967.
In 2012, I was sailing to freedom in a boat from the same era into a timeless future. Pentargon may be a floating Morris Minor but that does not infer she is dated.
My left foot is embedded in the mid 1900's but the right foot hovers over the 2030s.
Once upon a dream-time, the cut was used by REAL boats and REAL boatmen. Now almost all boats and many boaters are pretenders. I decided to innovate rather than copy the copied mistakes of others.
My boat is for doing whatever I can do on Muddy Brown Water so the Wish List was progressively fine-tuned for all-weather all-season operations, especially since the plan was to be on board 180 of the days of any year. This may be a unique lifestyle, but it will become clear later ... if Muddy Brown Water finds an interested publisher.
In 2012, I was sailing to freedom in a boat from the same era into a timeless future. Pentargon may be a floating Morris Minor but that does not infer she is dated.
My left foot is embedded in the mid 1900's but the right foot hovers over the 2030s.
Once upon a dream-time, the cut was used by REAL boats and REAL boatmen. Now almost all boats and many boaters are pretenders. I decided to innovate rather than copy the copied mistakes of others.
My boat is for doing whatever I can do on Muddy Brown Water so the Wish List was progressively fine-tuned for all-weather all-season operations, especially since the plan was to be on board 180 of the days of any year. This may be a unique lifestyle, but it will become clear later ... if Muddy Brown Water finds an interested publisher.
The learning process for a life on Muddy Brown Water began long before the search for a boat had begun and will end when I step ashore for the final time. The fact that I have floated about on the tide for much of my life helped transition from Briny Blue to Muddy Brown Water, but not half as much as becoming a volunteer with a canal charity in Harlow (photo) just as Northern Rock went bust in September 2007.
Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were directly responsible for my decision to actually buy a canal boat instead of just wishing for one.
I needed to transfer my funeral money into something tangible; an asset that could not be sunk by financial crisis. I needed to get out of cash, a totally worthless commodity:
This Link explains incestuous relationship twixt Fannie & Fred. A boat is a tangible asset: a home from home: a mortgage-free, rent-free place to own and live and write in.
Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were directly responsible for my decision to actually buy a canal boat instead of just wishing for one.
I needed to transfer my funeral money into something tangible; an asset that could not be sunk by financial crisis. I needed to get out of cash, a totally worthless commodity:
This Link explains incestuous relationship twixt Fannie & Fred. A boat is a tangible asset: a home from home: a mortgage-free, rent-free place to own and live and write in.
I am a "sailor" with a lifetime's experience of boats and currents, tides and sea-water.
I was born by the sea and reared by the sea I have lived by water all of my life and have been taught by it. Mid 60's, I delivered a cruiser along a hundred miles of Grand Canal from Shannon Harbour to Dublin.
A half-life later, I took my new wife on an unforgettable cruise of Shannon's lakes.
Most of my earlier experiences had been with dinghies and mostly on the East Coast but later with my daughter in Clare, on any lake on which we could launch a GP14.
I built that dinghy from raw timber with my brother over a period of years and still have it, complete with trailers, garaged and dry.
During the early years of this century and in England, I had a serious relationship with a Brixham Trawler, as a volunteer, enabling 'disadvantaged' youngsters to work and play together as a team and I also served awhile with the London Unit of the Maritime Volunteer Service where I learned the wiles of Father Thames while producing training manuals and other writes for rookies.
I became very familiar with the Estuary, the Channel and the South Coast, even doing an odd "delivery", sometimes crewing with my brother in the Solent. Sailing and the sea runs in the family; four of the five of us would be categorised as able-to-very-able
Two have crossed the Atlantic a number of times. One has circumnavigated the globe in his own boat. Before 2010, I knew very little about Muddy Brown Water.
For a magical year, I volunteered with the Canalability project out of Harlow, learning from experts how to take out people out who were less lucky than I had been in life.
This was my first introduction to Muddy Brown Water and to a totally new form of boating I had not experienced before.
Canalability ran familiarisations for crew and gave formal training under qualified instructors. I found myself competent to fall out of a boat, to retrieve someone else who had fallen out of a boat, victual for twelve, 'turn a boat around' and shut up shop after a useful day afloat on UK Inland Waterways.
I was born by the sea and reared by the sea I have lived by water all of my life and have been taught by it. Mid 60's, I delivered a cruiser along a hundred miles of Grand Canal from Shannon Harbour to Dublin.
A half-life later, I took my new wife on an unforgettable cruise of Shannon's lakes.
Most of my earlier experiences had been with dinghies and mostly on the East Coast but later with my daughter in Clare, on any lake on which we could launch a GP14.
I built that dinghy from raw timber with my brother over a period of years and still have it, complete with trailers, garaged and dry.
During the early years of this century and in England, I had a serious relationship with a Brixham Trawler, as a volunteer, enabling 'disadvantaged' youngsters to work and play together as a team and I also served awhile with the London Unit of the Maritime Volunteer Service where I learned the wiles of Father Thames while producing training manuals and other writes for rookies.
I became very familiar with the Estuary, the Channel and the South Coast, even doing an odd "delivery", sometimes crewing with my brother in the Solent. Sailing and the sea runs in the family; four of the five of us would be categorised as able-to-very-able
Two have crossed the Atlantic a number of times. One has circumnavigated the globe in his own boat. Before 2010, I knew very little about Muddy Brown Water.
For a magical year, I volunteered with the Canalability project out of Harlow, learning from experts how to take out people out who were less lucky than I had been in life.
This was my first introduction to Muddy Brown Water and to a totally new form of boating I had not experienced before.
Canalability ran familiarisations for crew and gave formal training under qualified instructors. I found myself competent to fall out of a boat, to retrieve someone else who had fallen out of a boat, victual for twelve, 'turn a boat around' and shut up shop after a useful day afloat on UK Inland Waterways.
This was my first introduction to Muddy Brown Water and to a totally new form of boating I had not experienced before.
Landlubbers bond with shoes, cars, houses and relate with I-phones and headphones, so might I not relate with a boat?
Over some ten years, I developed a special relationship with "Pentargon Springer", learning her eccentricities, weaknesses, strengths and living in harmony with her foibles, come storm, freeze or calm.
"Human Relationships and Serendipity " ensured that scores of people, real and imagined, , came to inhabit my watery universe, flitting in and out of my life, on and off the land, popping up out of the Muddy Brown Water unexpectedly and [usually] unannounced.
"Longest, Friendliest Village In England"
More socially diverse than any other English society, yet uniquely unified, the canal fraternity may be classed as classless. It has it's share of numpties but every garden has a weed or two and sometimes orchids like Stephanie Dingle or Jennie Burton.
Boaters differ from sea-water equivalents. Out on the salty (or more to the point in their marinas) 'mine is ALWAYS bigger than yours' and point scoring is the point among bumptious know-alls whom I tend to avoid.
On Muddy Brown Water, we share the same jokes, trials, tribulations, laughs, beverages and boaty bothers. Some of my colleagues are totally water-based and water-borne and know no other way; others live in floating accommodation without ever realising that their home is really a BOAT.
Some, me being one, morph seamlessly to and fro between one and the other: now a boater, then a lubber and now and then neither. Them wot thinks their shyte is currant buns gets a right let down the first time their pump-out throws a wobbly or they have to carry a cassette to a stinking disposal point to discover what their currant buns really are. Muddy Brown Water has a way ... of bacterialising sweet cake into a nasal fantasy way beyond slurry.
Neighbours?
My neighbour is a boater and a "boater" may be (and has been) defined as someone who would be a sailor if he knew anything. By my definition, a "boater" is someone one who lives on a floating device in permanent, temporary or occasional accommodation but does not necessarily know it's a boat. My neighbour is the next boat up or down the cut [PHOTO] and lives afloat in permanent, temporary or occasional accommodation while a "ghost boater" does not use the boat to its "optimum". At one time a boat lay near Dodsworth on the Grand Union, purchased a few miles upriver by someone, believed to be from "London", who having paid for it and taken it a few miles, decided he didn't really like boating, tied it up and walked away from it. There are hundreds of boats around the system with similar ghost stories to tell. The news travelled of course and its next owner took possession of the ghost boat for a bag of currant buns. Or something. There are boaters who, as soon as the weather gets cool, scurry ashore to a warm house and return at "intervals" to move the boat to a different "place". There are boaters who pay big money to the canal authority for the 'privilege' of not having to move til the swallows return. There are those (I've done it myself!) who park up betimes and walk away awhile ... and then there are the rest ... They are ALL boaters, all individuals, all neighbours.
Over some ten years, I developed a special relationship with "Pentargon Springer", learning her eccentricities, weaknesses, strengths and living in harmony with her foibles, come storm, freeze or calm.
"Human Relationships and Serendipity " ensured that scores of people, real and imagined, , came to inhabit my watery universe, flitting in and out of my life, on and off the land, popping up out of the Muddy Brown Water unexpectedly and [usually] unannounced.
"Longest, Friendliest Village In England"
More socially diverse than any other English society, yet uniquely unified, the canal fraternity may be classed as classless. It has it's share of numpties but every garden has a weed or two and sometimes orchids like Stephanie Dingle or Jennie Burton.
Boaters differ from sea-water equivalents. Out on the salty (or more to the point in their marinas) 'mine is ALWAYS bigger than yours' and point scoring is the point among bumptious know-alls whom I tend to avoid.
On Muddy Brown Water, we share the same jokes, trials, tribulations, laughs, beverages and boaty bothers. Some of my colleagues are totally water-based and water-borne and know no other way; others live in floating accommodation without ever realising that their home is really a BOAT.
Some, me being one, morph seamlessly to and fro between one and the other: now a boater, then a lubber and now and then neither. Them wot thinks their shyte is currant buns gets a right let down the first time their pump-out throws a wobbly or they have to carry a cassette to a stinking disposal point to discover what their currant buns really are. Muddy Brown Water has a way ... of bacterialising sweet cake into a nasal fantasy way beyond slurry.
Neighbours?
My neighbour is a boater and a "boater" may be (and has been) defined as someone who would be a sailor if he knew anything. By my definition, a "boater" is someone one who lives on a floating device in permanent, temporary or occasional accommodation but does not necessarily know it's a boat. My neighbour is the next boat up or down the cut [PHOTO] and lives afloat in permanent, temporary or occasional accommodation while a "ghost boater" does not use the boat to its "optimum". At one time a boat lay near Dodsworth on the Grand Union, purchased a few miles upriver by someone, believed to be from "London", who having paid for it and taken it a few miles, decided he didn't really like boating, tied it up and walked away from it. There are hundreds of boats around the system with similar ghost stories to tell. The news travelled of course and its next owner took possession of the ghost boat for a bag of currant buns. Or something. There are boaters who, as soon as the weather gets cool, scurry ashore to a warm house and return at "intervals" to move the boat to a different "place". There are boaters who pay big money to the canal authority for the 'privilege' of not having to move til the swallows return. There are those (I've done it myself!) who park up betimes and walk away awhile ... and then there are the rest ... They are ALL boaters, all individuals, all neighbours.
