The Packet Inn mooring is the perfect place to go and see the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, as that’s where they hang out. And from Monday to Friday volunteers will take you on a Hanger tour at RAF Conningsby. Being summer not all the planes are on base as they try to get out for displays, but we were lucky. The Lancaster was on the runway just about to take off on its way down to Southampton.
The Lancasters played a vital part in Britain’s war effort. They were the huge heavy duty bombers, capable of night flights, and often, if they had been hit, able to limp home on only 2 of their 4 engines. Sadly being part of a Lancaster crew was still one of the most dangerous places to be in the RAF. Out of the 7377 built, 3249 survived and only 35 completed more than 100 sorties. The crew of 7 had only a 15% chance of being able to bail out if hit, and due to the cramped conditions in the turrets, the gunners would often have removed their parachutes. Life expectancy of a rear gunner was rummered to only be 4 weeks, exposed and unable to escape they were very vulnerable. Unlike today’s stringent rules with supervised flying hours before obtaining a pilots licence, some of these men were lucky if they got 2 weeks training. Consequently a lot of the tragedies occoured when landing back on home ground due to sheer lack of experience. Probably the most famous Lancaster mission was delivering the Dam Busters bouncing bombs. 
The Spitfires were midgets compared to the Lancasters. They were the short range high performance single seat fighters. They often flew photo reconnaissance missions unarmed because they could fly higher and faster than the enemy. 
Their design was streamlined and although costing a lot more, the air force insisted on flat rivets because it allowed an extra 15mph. We wonder if some boaters realise this, as there is a trend for having raised rivets added to hulls purely for the aesthetics. Going 15mph faster might not actually be possible but going 15mph slower would have a very negative impact….
Although the Spitefires have captured the public’s affections, 
the Hurricanes were responsible for 60% of the enemy losses during the Battle of Britain. They were essentially a fore runner of the Spitfire using tried and tested cheaper manufacturing methods. They were straightforward and easier to fly, also easier to repair, but the agility and speed of the Spitfire was too beneficial to ignore. 
The Douglas Dakota was used primarily as a military transport plane but looks equally impressive when seen as part of the team.
The BBMF has to undergo strict and rigerous maintenance throughout the year. 
The cogs
and pistons gleam (or to be more corrct the Camshaft and followers, as pointed out by Steve and probably a lot of others who have kept quiet at my mistake, cheers mate)
And each time the planes are repainted, the colours of the various countries that played a part in the allies victory are chosen, this shows the Polish Boxing Bulldog. 
The French Spitfire is silver with the French Flag but this plane isn’t flying this season. The pilots also undertake many hours of additional training before they are allowed to fly any of the BBMF. There is only one Lancaster left in Britain that is able to fly and the RAF is doing their best to preserve it for as long as possible. It certainly gave us a huge thrill every time we saw it flying over. The deep rumble is quite unique. And as we were in Lincolnshire for nearly a month we got to see and hear it many times. It’s been a highlight of our summer and in true narrowboat life totally unexpected experience.
Of course, such a tower just begged to be climbed. Despite it being a NT property it didn’t feel over commercialised and the audio tour was well done and informative as it guided us, first down the 12 steps into the servants quarters, then up 149 steps through various floors, each one getting grander the higher we climbed.
until we reached the roof.
And oh what a view
Looking south east, we could see the white buildings of RAF Conningsby and the water park lake. 
And in the far distance, about 11 miles away was the Boston Stump.
When we looked to the north west, Lincoln cathedral dominated the skyline about 20 miles away.
Coming down the steps was much much easier than the Boston Stump, the handrail was smooth stone set into the bricks.
One of the notable features of Tattershall castle are the 4 magnificent stone fireplaces. I reckon if they had been a bridge we’d have got Firecrest through with room to spare. We are lucky to still have the fireplaces, because the castle had fallen into disrepair and the NT declined to purchase the building. In 1910, just before it was about to be demolished, the fireplaces were sold to the Americans, but a local vicar contacted the philanthropist, Lord Curzon. He stepped in and purchased the castle for a few thousand, and demanded to know “where were his fireplaces”. After a bit of detective work he found they were sitting at Tilbury docks awaiting their passage. Luckily he had the funds, from memory about £5000 but definitely more than he paid for the castle.
He was able to buy them back and he restored the castle at his expense before bequeathing it to the NT after his death in 1925 for all to enjoy.
Across the moat, is Tattershall church,
which has interesting tales to tell. You might be able to see the furnishings are draped with blue cloth. This is because the church is home to a colony of bats. Not just in the belfry, but throughout the whole church, and the evidence was clearly seen. Whilst I admire wildlife preservation, I think the novelty of bat poo in a well used building would wear rather thin in my opinion. But the bats aren’t the churches only claim to fame
It is where Tom Thumb is buried. He died in 1620 aged 101. I make no claims about this tales acurracy.
Ian and Cherryl were first off the boat because they’d also done their homework and knew it was high tide at 10am so wanted to see the lock keeper. The Grand Sluice lock is a bit of a muddle to understand, it’s underneath the rail and the road bridge. And there’s particular ways of passing through depending on the time tide and size of your boat. They picked up a lot of useful advice and contacts, but we just observed, Unlike Seren Rose, Firecrest is a canal boat and although we could make her seaworthy, it isn’t something high on our priority list right now. But never say never, there’s usually a handful of intrepid travellers who do it each year.
But undeterred by my apparently common mistake, we had a good look around.
Leaving Boston has to be carefully thought out if you want to go out onto the the sea, that nice deep river we saw at full tide, looks like this on the retreat. 
This towering beacon guided us along the river to the visitor moorings, where a fellow boater said “….you do know you can go up to the top….” of course I didn’t need telling twice. Despite the clouds, the forecast suggested this would be the clearest day for the best view.
So with my eager accomplice Cherryl, we persuaded our boys that it was only 220 steps and off we went. 
Only 220 steps indeed, we were both looking for the oxygen cylinders by the time we got to the top. 
But then we realised it was the view that claimed the breath taking prize. We were able to stand outside on all 4 aspects of the tower. 
Looking down we could see the market 
and some of the grand Boston properties built in its thriving heyday. 
And if we followed the river west, in front of the Grand Sluice, Boston lock, (under the rail bridge) the tide had retreated revealing uninviting mud going out to the estuary, 
but Seren Rose and Firecrest were moored safely upstream in non tidal water.
Looking straight out we could see over to the Norfolk coast and the in/off shore windfarms (we’re still debating which term is correct).
To the north was a “proper” 1820s windmill, this is one of the largest still operating in England. 
Looking to the west were the great, soon to be redundant, cooling towers of the coal power stations on the Trent and medieval Tattershal castle. 
On a good day you can see over 30 miles and Lincoln cathedral but it was too hazy for us.
I don’t usually like heights but the stone balcony encased us safely. We had climbed 145 feet up, the remaining 100 feet was closed to public access.
Coming down was harder than going up, narrow spiral stairwells are good for the defending soldiers wielding swords. Ian and Eric obviously didn’t meet the enemy as they practically flew down. Cherryl and I took a more ladylike descent, and emerged triumphant and in need of a cuppa-provided by a very pleasant cafe in the church. 
St Botolphs seems to be a very welcoming and inclusive church. Lots of beautiful architecture but more importantly full of people.
There were several community activities going on, the local art club had an exhibition, there were some spinners and knitters creating a WWI remembrance display of red poppies, there was a replica of St Botolphs being made out of Lego, a wood carving group working on church restoration, a cafe and a large second hand book area. The following day I had the joy of attending an organ recital, but sadly as we only had 2 nights in Boston we missed taking part in any of the many Christian worship activities also advertised.
Our first night was at Bardney Lock. The visitor moorings, with electric hook up, are about a mile away from the village, so as we’d arrived quite late we didn’t stop to investigate. 
The further East we travelled, the thicker the duck weed became, the swans didnt mind but not much fun to cruise through. Combined with the retaining levees, it wasn’t an exciting journey, until we heard a rumble and a roar in the skies above us. 
As we looked up, we realised a hurricane had just passed us. Not the windy variety, but we were directly under the runway flight path from 
We had to work out which way to look as both the Hurricanes and Typhoons had come and gone before we heard them, but always seemed to fly in pairs, so if we missed one we knew there’d be a second close behind. I’m not to sure we would like to live so close to the airbase, but we were only too pleased to be able to moor up at Dogsdyke, within walking distance of the base. Of course it would have been rude not to take advantage, so we all went exploring. 
There’s a viewing mound just outside the perimeter fence for all the enthusiastic plane spotters, one or two armed with radio which we assumed allowed them listen in to air traffic control, so they knew what to expect. 
The runway was still quite a distance away but it didn’t stop the excitement build as we realised not only were active RAF Typhoon and Hurricane squadrons based here, but also it was the home of the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, 
Not only were we watching the modern, super fast and noisy,
we were being treated to a close up of the only flying Lancaster bomber, 
The Dakota coming into land, 
And one of the Spitfires flying overhead. 
What a privilege, having missed most of the fly past over Lincoln’s 1940s weekend, we were now getting our very own personal air display of this magnificent part of our heritage.
Ian and Cherryl were more worried than us because Seren Rose is a true “Fat Boy” with a wheelhouse, which they would have to collapse to allow them through. With a close eye on the weather, cause they really didn’t want to get rained on with their roof down, Seren Rose set first. Waving goodbye to Brayford Pool and entering the River Witham.
This twisting narrow passage takes us under a thriving shopping street and a magnificent medieval building which is now the home of Stokes coffee house. Ironically this awkward passage is actually called High Bridge. It has a fascinating history. Built by the Normans in the 12th century It is England’s oldest stone bridge still in use to have occupied medieval buildings on it. Then it was our turn.
First we had to pass under the modern road bridge, with its slogan “Where have you been” inscribed across It. 
Then we saw the hole…. It certainly looked ominous as we approached.
And more like a tunnel than a bridge. We’d never have guessed what was above us. If we hadn’t walked across the bridge first. 
Once through the Glory Hole we breathed a sigh of relief, the only casualty being one of Seren Roses fenders, which Cherryl was able to fish out with their boat hook. 
Lincoln has embraced it’s waterways and tried to prettify a 20th century shopping centre with hanging baskets and a stunning millenium sculpture called Empowerment. Sadly this area has a deprived feel to it. As well as the busy shoppers and tourists, it’s sheltered walkways attract quite a number of drug addicts, homeless and unemployed people, who looked anything but empowered. My moral conscience is always troubled when I see such hopelessness. I feel so blessed and privileged to be able to live on a narrowboat the way we do. And we do bring pleasure to many,
As we dutifully wave to our admirers on the next bridge.
Farewell for now Lincoln, we will be back to explore the rest of this magnificent city next week.
There were quite a few Yanks over here helping the party go with a swing. There was live music, big band and swing with dancing.
We were treated to a lesson on doing the Lambeth Walk at an open air tea dance.
And a pipe band to help with the fling
I thought Eric had taken a shine to the dancers 
but he had his eye on this rather fine vehicle
Ian and Cheryl fancied this one in green.
While I was in stitches over the fancy bunting. 
And wondering where I’d be now if my nurses uniform hadn’t been the functional trousers and tunic it is today.
Of course with it being RAF weekend, we were treated to fly pasts by a Lancaster, Spitfire and Hurricane. Unfortunately despite the blue sky it was quite windy so they arrived earlier than advertised, which meant we didn’t get a really good view of them as we were cloistered in the cathedral quarter. 
Poirot and his friends offered to go and find them for us but they were enjoying the pink fizz too much. 
Away from the cathedral quarter there were more stalls and a display of RAF fire engines on the waterfront.
Although we weren’t sure if this guy had suffered 100% burns, was the Michelin Man, Stig or wearing his uniform.
In the evening, events switched venues with the party atmosphere moving to the waterfront with street food and music. The grand finale on Saturday was a firework display set off from the island in the Brayford Pool, which we got to enjoy sitting on the roof of Seren Rose with Ian Cherryl and their family, Tony and Jo. And 5 minutes afterwards it started to rain.
We cowered under the trees then scampered back to the boats, to phone the harbour master who was happy for us to pay him the next day. Of course rain like that doesn’t last long but it was now damp and chilly. As we could see the Odeon cinema on the waterfront, we decided to go and see Mama Mia HWGA, not quite as good as the first film but still a good sing along.
In good spirits our movie singalong soon changed films, no prizes for guessing what our rowdy chorus line became, and that was before we’d opened the bottles. 
Bradford Pool is a harbour managed by the BP trust and we were to be charged £15 a night to stay. Having suffered 3 nights of mindless intimidation in Newark we were quite happy to pay for secure gated city centre moorings so we could be in the thick of it without fear of being taken advantage of by non boaters. The Cathedral providing us with an equally impressive backdrop to our mooring.
Brayford Pool was originally a natural lake that became the heart of the settlement that grew up here. Lin, meaning lake and Don meaning foot of the hill became Lindon. The Romans arrived in the first century and recognising potential when they saw it, dredged and widened the river Witham to make an inland port of quite some significance. The town and its thriving wool industry prospered, helped also by the Romans building the Foss Dyke connecting the area to the River Trent. The Romans left in the 5th century and the Vikings took over 500 years later, when Brayford acquired it’s name, Breit-ford, where the River is wide and fordable.
It felt safe and comforting at first, although in true Roman fashion, straight for mile and mile and mile. And with this being the Lincolnshire fens, the countryside is low lying and flat so prone to flooding hence the levees either side of us which also meant very little change in scenery. 
We did however see two Braidbar boats, Essence, No 94, has a mooring here. 
And No 102, Up Spirits who we didn’t manage to speak to as we were both manouvering as we passed. 
And this boat, which although had a certain design flare, we could tell from it’s livery that it was definitely not a Braidbar. 
We’d been advised that Saxilby was a nice place to moor.
And we have to agree it was, we stayed a few days here, and had a steady stream of neighbours in all shapes and sizes. Some only stayed a few hours, just long enough to nip up to the chippy and take advantage of the picnic tables to enjoy lunch.
We chatted to everyone, especially as I’d taken the opportunity to sit outside with my spinning, always a good conversation starter. We struck up what was to become a good friendship with Cherryl and Ian. (Yes two Cheryls… one with 2 Rs one with only 1…) 
They have a beautiful dutch style barge with a wheelhouse perfect for socialising. We did have to confess to a degree of boat envy. Seren Rose is not Ian and Cherryls first boat. They’d already spent many years cruising the whole system on their narrowboat, and now they are now looking at exploring new waters. Maybe one day we will do similar. Their enthusiasm and zest for life is infectious, and like us, even though they have lived this life for many years, each day is still an adventure. As we were both going in the same direction we shared this next bit of our adventures together. 
While we were in Saxilby, Eric took advantage of seeing a physio who’s consulting rooms were opposite our mooring. He’s had a painful shoulder for quite a while and she confirmed it was a frozen shoulder. He’s got a long list of exercises to do, but although it’s improving already it could be a slow process. We loved the stonework on the frontage.
Travelling in convoy with Ian and Cherryl we headed off towards Lincoln.
It wasn’t long before the cathedral came into view, promising us an exciting weekend ahead.
David and his wife from the cruiser Orchid and and Karen and Colin on NB Listers Lore. We were moored together overnight.
Our passage was booked so we would go out at slack water-the period when the tide is neither coming or going. This meant that we would be arriving at Torksey just about the same time as the incoming tide. However we wouldn’t be able to pass through until the water levels had risen enough to cover the cill. 
The tidal river lock keepers are professionals as they have some big locks to oversee. They are extremely knowledgeable and very helpful so had advised us to take advantage of this for our first outing onto tidal water. Of course what it meant was that our first venture onto tidal water, was not. The tide didn’t help hinder or affect us at all.
Our journey was calm and uneventful 
Until we came to the water skiers.
We had, by default, followed Karen and Colin since leaving Cromwell lock. They turned off the river onto the Fossdyke Navigation just before us. But this was where we said goodbye as they weren’t going through the lock, but mooring here overnight. Seeing the line they took and speed they went at, greatly helped our confidence and confirmed we had planned and acted appropriately. Hopefully one day we will be in the position to help guide and encourage other novices.
We moored up after Torksey lock. And breathed a sigh of relief as we had ticked off a major journey on our narrowboat adventure. We won’t ever take the big rivers for granted. The conditions we experienced couldn’t have been more favourable. Let’s hope they continue when we make our return journey later this month.