.......is what I was thinking as I stepped back onto Phil's river cruiser as we continued to motor up the Thames near Marlow this afternoon. I first spotted this character from a distance by the trail of smoke from the chimney that poked through the roof of the plywood cabin he had built onto his aluminium outrigger canoe.
I was lucky enough to exchange a few words with this gent as he paddled through Hurley lock. The new fangled, modern, push button lock had jammed and we spent about half an hour trying to figure out the problem. I had to ring the environment agency emergency line and go through the whole push 1, push 2, push 3 (push off! that's what I say) routine of the modern helpline to human interface scenario while the berk who was coming up river and was responsible for braking the damn thing told us he would wait in his boat while we sorted it. Let's be honest, we take to the water to relax but we rarely can. The guy in the canoe however was the real deal. I asked him where he came from and he told me he had come from the source of the Thames. He had been at sea (river) for 8 days. I asked him if his rig was from a Mirror and he told me he didn't know. To him it was just a kite to pull him down wind, sourced on EBay. He seemed to feel like he needed to justify why he was gently drifting downwind the length of the Thames as he paddled off with his stew cooking away in his tiny cabin. He didn't need to. I was with him spiritually as I stepped back on to our Gin Palace and headed for the globalisation that is Marlow High street.
I haven't been able to stop asking myself the question, why don't I take a Gull down the Thames. After all it has been on my doorstep, so to speak, all my life and in the right kind of vessel, i.e. one that isn't powered by fossil fuels, the river would be a great place to escape to. At least until the lock machinery jams again.
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