GoringLock

Through the worst of the July/August 2007 Thames flood, our good friends Mike and Sue Richardson on Shania were "stuck" at Goring for over a fortnight, taken into the lock with five other narrowboats for their own safety. The local lock keepers were tremendously supportive, and a special spirit developed between the boaters themselves.

This vivid account was written specially for this website by Sue - looking less than happy (left). The evocative photographs were taken by Sue and Mike.

We reached Goring on a Thursday, July 19th, and the Swan Uppers were in the lock being photographed. We had seen them at Henley so decided to stop, moor up and have ice cream. It was very hot as we chatted to the locals.

What a torrential downpour we had on Friday. Boats were moving even though it was hard going. Ian and Liz on Wild Thyme struggled up river and breasted up with us. Ten gondoliers with crew in trench coats and hats went down stream fast. On Saturday it stopped raining but water was still rising. We could see the people on the towpath now - when we arrived we were so low we could only see feet. We put out the plank. The water was three feet high and rising and by evening it was over our mooring ropes and getting close to the towpath level.

It was swirling and fast moving and very scarey. We didn't sleep well and I was opening the side hatch to view the rise with the torch through the night. Everyone was anxious. Four feet high and rising and by Sunday it was over the towpath, ankle-deep. At 8 am we phoned the Environment Agency for advice and they told us to strap poles, planks, ladders, anything to stop the boat going over the mooring ropes. Scaffolding poles are best if you can get them. But this was a Sunday, they were busy at Oxford and Abingdon where they had houses flooded and no water supply. England was flooded so fast. No-one saw it coming.

Just by chance a man and wife named John and Dot Blake were visiting their friends who were also at Goring on a boat. They brought scaffolding poles and tied them on. "Can we have some poles too?" I asked when they passed our boat. “If you want poles you can have poles" he said, and off they went to get everyone poles for all the boats, hauling them down the tow path and hammering in too. What a great couple.

We dropped anchors and tied on extra ropes, all under water. The men were doing everything to secure the boats. Everyone was wading up and down in ankle deep water and even the locals were not put off from taking their Sunday stroll. It was so hot and sunny they had ice creams. We felt so much better when we'd done so we had a drink and shared a few jokes. Everyone knew each other now.

I still kept a vigil all night. The poles rattled and the water rumbled like an earthquake beneath the boat. I slept a little. Next morning at 7.30 I opened the side hatch to see Mike, the resident lock keeper, wading down the towpath shaking his head. "It's going to get a lot worse" he said "You can't stay here. It's not safe. I want you all to go into the lock".

The plan was to get all the cruisers up above the lock into calm waters first, then bring the narrowboats into the lock, where they would stay. One by one we each had to run the gauntlet of the fast water from the weir. First we had to untie and the water was almost waist high. Mike (my Mike, that is), wearing a life-jacket and tied with a rope around the waist to stop him being carried away by strong current had to get the anchor back onto the boat and, face down in the water, get the ropes off the capstons. Ian of Wild Thyme was also tied to rope doing the same.

Everyone was helping each other to get free from the poles safely. Some poles slipped away at speed, so they had to be roped as well. All lock keepers, even off duty ones, were all doing something to assist our passage into the lock.Wild Thyme went first then Miss Kelly with Eric and Janet on board followed by Clara Louisa with Pam (a woman of mature years) at the tiller. Eric jumped on to her boat when she was free of poles and ropes. "What you doing here" she asked. "I'm taking you in" he said. "You'll touch that tiller over my dead body. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in 16 years of boating". She powered ahead and ran the gauntlet passed the swirling current under the bridge and into the lock with a big smile.

Our turn came next, with Freddies Lady following close behind. We all felt happy to be in the safety of the lock, had coffee with whiskey and laughed. There were still two empty boats to bring in and the scaffolding poles to carry up to the lock. The bottom gates were left open and it filled from below — the water was still rising. That evening all 10 boaters went to the Catherine Wheel for a meal to celebrate.

At night, I still kept a vigil, watching the river,and the noise! I wandered around the lock while everyone slept. The men were worn out from their ordeal. I was unaware the lights set off a sensor in the lock keeper’s house and triggered an alarm. He and his wife were disturbed from their sleep but he never told me - he told Mike.

The water reached the top of the lock on Wednesday when we had the planks out again. Mill Cottage had sand bags at the door. The water went past the footbridge on the lane but the locals still came to take pictures for their albums. They waded in to ask us "Are you stuck here? How long will you be here?”

Well, we had water. Lock keeper Mike allowed us to plug into his electricity so we could do some washing. On his day off, lock keeper Patrick drove me to Tesco in Abingdon with a list of shopping for all the boaters. There was a manhole cover we could lift to empty cassettes or do a self pump-out.

We had tea and cakes every day at 4pm, flew the English flag and took loads of photos. We told jokes. We were happy.

Eventually, the Thames peaked and started to go down, slowly, only four inches a day and four inches at night. The weekend brought many gongoozlers with cameras still paddling through the mud. Wednesday 1st August was Yorkshire Day so Mike dressed our boat with bunting and the Yorkshire flag. It was also the day for us to be roped out of the lock and back on to the moorings that were still under water by four inches. Mike and the other men had been sweeping the tow path and moorings the day before but we ended up far back and Mike had to do more sweeping ankle deep again and the plank out again.

Extra lock keepers were assigned to walk out the boats on ropes. The river was still high with a strong current from the weir, but all went well except for Eric loosening his ropes and drifting off the moorings. The red boards were still up so we stayed put over the weekend but the sunshine on Monday was the sign to move. As we waved goodbye, we asked the lock keepers : “Can we book the same two weeks next year?”