Wey Navigation

I have often looked at the river Wey whilst driving North around Guildford on the A3 and now here I was, getting out at the famous Row Barge Inn to have my lunch and sample a pint of the landlord’s finest...

“Oi, get out of my garden – you can only eat and drink what you buy!” - the aggressive cry from a red faced, blood-shot angry man, whom I later learnt was the landlord. Everyone agreed with his principle – just not his aggressive manner, so it was minus 11 pints for him and a short 25 metre paddle for us to the opposite bank and lunch.

Post lunch, I was feeling confident; got one-over the nasty landlord, drunk on sobriety and hot lentil soup, I slipped balletically back into my boat for the next leg to Godalming only to be baulked at the second stroke of the afternoon. No problem, I thought, just back stroke hard on your left side and you’ll avoid the other boat - rather intuitive really? Intuitively, I knew something was very wrong when, upside down, I looked up at the water surface from beneath and I started considering my options! Scream? Nope, I was still sucking on my camelback mouth piece. Wet-exit? Nope, this is a flat canal for Pete’s sake, no one will ever take me seriously again (Oi, I heard that!). I guess I will just have to roll back – it worked, wow! Only, now I’m missing a very expensive pair of designer sunglasses that previously looked so cool perched on the top of my head! (More skills!)

The rest of the afternoon passed with a change from rural to imposing historical industrial landscapes, an insight into parts of Guildford rarely seen from dry land. It’s funny to think of this Surrey market town as a port but the first paved streets of the borough were actually paid for by less than a year’s harbour dues from the canal boats tying up to it’s wharfs – it must have been quite a thriving port!

Not content with upsetting the local landlords, the thugs amongst the group stole some poor lad’s football and a 2 mile canoe polo game ensued. I’m not sure who won, but it wasn’t the poor boy left crying back on the wharf at Guildford? (I jest!).

After all that paddling, rolling, polo and lock portages it was a tired group who shuttled back to the Scout HQ in Send. Dusk saw the lights come on, the tents go up and the smell of the evening’s food enticed everyone to Chez Tim. His signature dish of Coq au Tim, followed by Tart au Pomme avec custard Anglais chaud was accompanied by candle light, sherry by the blue bottle, fine wines and ales. Tales of 'derring-do' were recounted under the cabin’s swinging storm lantern, as the ship ploughed it’s lonely furrow to the pole (sorry, wrong book, but you get the picture!).

Tim’s café kicked-started the day with a full, English while vehicles were positioned for the end of the day and the Pompey team set off towards the great frozen wastes of the North (Surrey & the Thames). The now familiar, unspoilt countryside slowly gave way to suburbia and the gardens of the rich & famous. The weather played ball with probably the sunniest day of the year so far, highlighting the beautiful remains of Newark Priory, looking ghostly and eerie in the early morning mist. I almost expected to see the Famous Five & their dog Timmy, picnicing at the next lock having solved a dastardly crime in the secret tunnels under the Priory remains (the sinister case of the missing Ginger Beer!) The highlight of all the locks had to be Coxes Lock (unfortunately, Mike & Vicky and their double battleship had left us on Sunday after breakfast). A dubiously “Doable” weir enticed a certain Mr Earl to flex his muscles and his river racer as he negotiated the biggest drop of the trip, overlooked by Sunday Paper reading inhabitants of the stylish loft apartments above. I would of course have followed but being one pair of sunglasses down already I decided to let my protege have the limelight! (More skills and confidence acquired!) As we approached the final lock where the Wey met Old Father Thames, mass group apprehension ensued – no one had BCU/British Waterways licences and the lock keeper was standing authoritatively in his cottage doorway. Would this be a repeat of the Row Barge Inn? “Keep a low profile, he may not see us?” whispered our bold leaders. “Oh yeah, 11 kayaks from Pompey on a canal in leafy Surrey – give me a break!” “Oi!” came the shout. “Oh blimey, here we go?” “Not that way…….through the gate over there and have a great day. You going far?!” He had directed us directly onto the launching pontoons of the Shepperton Rowing Club, making our get-in to the Thames much easier. Proof that there are still plenty of friendly people around!

The Thames! Another ‘First’ for me. I’ve been over it on bridges, been under it on the tube, been on it on Corporate entertainment boats, been alongside it sipping a glass of wine but now here I was actually paddling my own P&H Capella on it, awesome! Of course, life does not always run smoothly and we still had to negotiate, the rather easy (sic) tide-race of the Shepperton weir and the massed ranks for the Shepperton Canoe Club junior section - actually more nerve wracking than the weir itself! Once again, I used my newly acquired skills & confidence to give plenty of room for the old hands to play in the rough water (I’m not losing another pair of glasses!) and we eased our way gently down stream to the get-out at Walton on Thames.