The boat trip

I'd never been on a barge before. A lithe boat that travels lazily along water. Saturday was to be my first foray into such an experience. And what a lovely experience it turned out to be. The barge captain, a cordial man, in abundance, set sail early in the morning. I, along with my troupe of young companions were to meet the barge party later on during their journey. Not knowing what to fully expect, I imagined a boating experience full of adventure and peril. Stormy seas, pirates, sea sickness and the sort flashed throughout my mind as I held my nautical tshirt in my hand whilst deciding what attire to don for the trip. Due to the weather being slightly chilly - I gave that top a miss, alongside my dandy boat decker shoes. If I had been afforded enough time I would have purchased a smart sailor hat, but that also was not to be.

Sailing aboard a boat, well, barge, I was mentally expecting the worst; such as disgruntled East African pirates. Yes, I was imagining I was Captain Phillips. I am well acquainted with the Somali community in my city - so the sight of some of my acquaintances clambering aboard our vessel hurling abuse in their mother tongue, motioning us to stick our hands up would not have surprised me. Having said this, though, I didn't see any Abdi's, Saeed's, or Khalif's.

So after joining the barge party at a lock we boarded the boat with controlled excitement. Life jackets were handed to the younger members of my group - who were happy to oblige. Me, I wasn't given one. Perhaps sensing that I had seen Pirates of the Caribbean and other sea faring films I must have exuded a certain amount of sailing confidence. This was to be an epic expedition of fortitude and courage. I was ready, my crew were ready, we were off and away.

To be honest, the barge journey wasn't really as perilous as I had envisaged. After a flurry of photographs I went below deck. To my surprise this area was rather impressive. Considering the size of the barge. A nice kitchen area/living room quarters lay below, sizable bathroom, and two bedrooms. A strong woody pine smell could be smelt throughout the boat. This was actually a comfortable habitat. I had, perhaps, naively  imagined puddles of water, rats running amok - with the boat swaying violently from left to right.

The family of the barge captain had informed me that they had lived on this boat (before they moved to their house) for three years. How novel. You could see why. It really must have been an interested three years sailing the seven seas. Well, around the rivers of Liverpool.

Returning to top deck and trying my hand at navigation I handed back the responsibility to the captain, I didn't feel quite comfortable steering, for fear of crashing. Anyway, I wanted to be prepared for the hot chocolate his wife was rustling up below deck. I would need a warmed up stomach in case the East Africans did indeed decide to hijack our vessel.
 

After admiring the slowly setting sun and enjoying the company of the crew. The barge was steadily making its way to the Albert Dock Area of Liverpool. I, by now, was yearning for some sea faring adventure. I hadn't even as much shot at any great white sharks - or jousted gallantly on deck with anybody wanting to take my life. So I took matters into my own glove clad hands. As the barge was approaching the docks I could see a ladder alongside a wall. It was now or never. My moment to show that I could emulate the likes of Jack Sparrow and, erm, Popeye - and show the crew and kids aboard that I was daring and could sheepishly giggle in the face of danger.


So I jumped and grabbed the ladder and scrambled up it with verve and gusto. The children on board gasped in admiration (or probably rolled their eyes at the sight of a grown up looking like a prat) as I made it to concrete land. The barge continuing to sail along, undeterred I was then stood from my vantage point waving at the party I had just left. Then I began wondering where and when I would be able to jump back on board.

I hadn't exactly planned this bout of spontaneity. Who does? An old gentleman nearby who was opening a passage way into the Albert Dock informed me that I could return to the boat a little further on - by making my way down some steps and jumping on board as the boat sailed past. More adventure! Oh crumbs... I wasn't prepared for this. Plus, I felt a little scared. The barge wasn't exactly a speed boat - and the prospect of me attempting to jump from steps onto a slowly moving barge didn't particularly fill me with confidence. If I missed my footing and ended up in the murky river - I would not have wanted anybody to rescue me from my utter shame and embarrassment. Just let me die with the already dead fish and discarded shoes and bottles.

Thankfully I was able to jump and land on the barge, as it continuing to sail into the dock where we eventually docked and got off.  A quite enjoyable Saturday it sure was.

Demola, TCC