"Where's the licence, Vicky?" I asked casually - having already scoured the boat for it while she snoozed. Er, back at the marina, in the car it turns out. Now it's only day three so we tread tactfully round a row - helped by a call to Mick at Dog In A Doublet who says "Don't worry, I'll vouch for you if a river inspector asks."
Oops Two was 100 per cent down to me. First lock of the day and just as we left a boat hove into view on a tight corner. For some incomprehensible reason I pushed the tiller hard the wrong way and almost tee-boned him before waking up. We didn't hit but he ended up tangled in the bank and had to pole himself off. Somehow "Sorry about that" seems a bit weak when you're motoring away unscathed. So green and cream boat at Alwalton Lock, I am truly sorry; I am an idiot!
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