Curried Bake beans 2 and Fossdyke

I contacted Heinz regarding the apparent disappearance of their famed snack-size curried baked beans and they confirm they no longer make them but will respond to customer demand. I recommend, if you loved them ( on toast ) like I did, you email Heinz via their website to let them know of your disappointment. It is very quick and easy to do as they already provide an email format for customers use and seem to respond amazingly quickly and politely. Give it a go and who knows, we may get curried beans back on our snack menu. 

We made Torksey lock in time for tea, not curried baked beans, obviously ,thanks to the extremely helpful and calm lock keeper who assisted us escape the extremely low tide at Scotmans corner, firstly by telling us to empty our water tanks ,whilst secondly  and conversely waiting for the river water levels to rise, which happened very quickly.

A selection of shots of Torksey lock and the strange mechanisms employed. The teapots on the gate were apparently given to the previous lock keeper by "customers"on his retirement and he donated them to the lock.

On arrival at the lock we were greeted by our convoy group and, having moored, we enjoyed a convivial evening with them. After the perfect nights sleep I glanced out the window onto a deep blue sky, sunshine and a yellow wagtail looking back at me from the bank, virtually eye to eye. An enchanting moment.

We are now on the non tidal Fossdyke Navigation, built by the Romans in their traditional straight lines, stretching to Lincoln and Boston 44 miles with only 2 locks.

I got volunteered to find a shop for a loaf of bread. Easier said than done. Torksey village is tiny, as is the only "shop" therein. Blink and you miss both. The grandly named Post Office and General Store is a very slightly altered bungalow, the entrance hall now fulfilling  the general store portfolio whilst the Post Office counter is still part of the living room for the dear old couple running it. Indeed, the whole establishment is the size of a postage stamp. I left with the very last half loaf of sliced bread, leaving the general store bereft of general stores, or anything else for that matter. The "village" is sliced in two by the main Lincoln road,used by heavy trucks and cars at a minimum of 50 mph, ensuring my journey back to the boat was far from relaxed, especially as today seems to be one of my unsteady ones.

The onward journey to Saxilby, a Viking town,was extremely uneventful, some might say boring, as the river banks are a constant 6 ft high. The occasional farm house offers some change.

Saxilby looked interesting, with plenty of mooring and a highly recommended fish and chip shop, both of which we used in brilliant sunshine. Onwards to Lincoln and the visitors moorings on the outskirts, ready for a full blooded assault tomorrow.