These straights are sending me round the bend

So what do you do when you're looking down a three mile long rifle barrel of a waterway with banks on either side that hide everything but the sky from view? And you're not a Buddhist who can just slip the time away in a trance?
In Vicky's case the answer is get out the Brasso and start polishing! In my case, the answer is fret; study the map, check my watch, repeatedly compute average speeds in my head and wonder if we'll make Stanground Lock by our booked slot of 1p.m.
Star's little Petter engine doesn't seem to like being rushed but a pottering Petter only makes about 2.5mph according to my mental maths. So I crank the speedwheel and make it work harder - it responds with the occasional belch of black smoke and I convince Vicky that this is the equivalent of coughing up something nasty and is actually "good for it".
Anyway, we do make Stanground in perfect time and head up the Nene and start the search for that Nene rarity - a good mooring. More in hope than anything else, we head in Ferry Meadows country park where moorings are promised - and find the last vacant slot in a delightful lakeside setting.