I have to admit I was a bit concerned before we started out. There’s always a possibility of something dreadful happening, or me doing something stupid in front of colleagues which will become one of the stories recounted at future office dos. In the event it all passed off very nicely, with spectacular stupidity and drunkenness shown by others for once.

Chris was very excited, Jay, John & Mark looking forward to it. Rich had pulled out (to be replaced by Chris) so we were at the recommended maximum which seemed sensible for a maiden event, but I suspect the lack of window boxes on our roof would allow us at least an additional crew member. The first disaster was John forgetting to bring the gas bottle for his portable barbecue, so Mark was dispatched to source emergency disposable barbies. We unloaded at Holme Pierepont & waited expectantly for Mark, the barbies & the Coors that he was bringing (out of date apparently, but it seemed rude not to). Once we were all aboard we were off. Nothing much to report, we bypassed the canal entrance the first time to take the opportunity for Chris to take us under Trent Bridge. By this time the cheapo barbies (which were apparently from  a garage & quite expensive) had spectacularly failed to light so we moored up to address the situation and failed miserably.  Plan B was to use the grill which behaved impeccably so the two Js & C sorted the burgers while me & M handled the lock. By now everyone had steered & we arrived at Via Fossa and commenced the first beer run. Without discussion we camped out opposite the pubs and watched the world go by. And what a world, one that forced my companions to question my decision to stay there for the night. It started about a hundred yards away when one of two women threw a guy’s wheelchair into the canal. He managed to retrieve it but the first woman, who was now naked from the waist down (?) tried to make him follow it. He defended himself heroically and she ended up wet instead. We really shouldn’t have watched, but it was difficult not to. By now she was out, the wheelchair back in and the second woman watching from a bench. Once wheelchair man was safely reseated he seemed to take pity on her and donated his jeans which left him propelling himself with his remaining pasty leg, which was now also minus a shoe. The two women became best mates & left together.

By now I was actually a bit drunk, Mark S had joined us and we drank the rest of the night away. I’ve been ordered to arrange a sequel, possibly over a weekend. It would be fun but I’m not sure I have the energy.

I have also just been told that I smell of beer, sweat and urine so perhaps I ought to address that.

Oh dear, it seemed like such a simple suggestion at the time. It has long been the custom at work to nominate the first Friday after payday as a ‘Boozy Do’ (the first rule of the Booze Club? Don’t talk about the Booze Club). In times past I was young enough and hard enough to keep up, and didn’t mind dropping fifty quid on a Friday to feel dreadful and be neither use nor ornament on a Saturday. They were surprisingly formal affairs in their way, albeit a lot of fun, with an agenda before the event and minutes published afterwards. Age brings wisdom however and I’ve long accepted that I don’t need to prove my groove with the office youngsters still in their thirties. I have after all been to Alien Sex Fiend and Xmal Deutschland gigs and I am comfortable with my cred-entials.

The marina to the traditional pub gathering is a trip of about 15 minutes by canal and initially I thought I’d offer a few people a lift between those two points, by way of being sociable. That didn’t seem worth the effort though, so maybe Holme Pierrepont to the pub would be better? About an hour and a half, a stretch of river and a couple of locks to get us there by early evening on Poet’s Day. A beer on the way, one in town and then home to bed. I thought I’d have a couple of willing (?) volunteers and would be able to drum up a couple more with a bit of email begging (or bullying), but I was immediately over-subscribed. Add to that the insistence of a strict dress code by the participants and a new vocabulary and I think I it might be about to get messy.

So Sunday will be spent moving the boat to HP in preparation, aided and abetted by Jason Mason and Jason Mason Junior.

After that let’s see what Friday brings, eh?