Pinkhill Resevoir

Set off for Bablock Hythe on a bright sunny July morning. On the way up there, we noticed a lamb had fallen down the bank, and was paddling about in the river. Exhausted, and in obvious distress. I pulled the boat over, and Ad stripped down to his skidders, and clambered in to rescue it. After getting himself stabbed by Blackthorn, and avoiding getting his toes nipped by crayfish, he managed to lift it out, up onto the bank. Where it bleated, ran off, and immediately began stuffing itself with grass.

When we arrived at 'The Ferry' pub, there were no boats there at all. Completely deserted. A very strange sight.

On the way back downstream, we saw a lady farmer on a quad bike, riding along the towpath. "Have we seen a lab?", we thought she said. "What colour?", we replied. Then we figured out she'd said "lamb". It's hard to hear stuff shouted from the bank over the engine noise. "Yes, we rescued it about an hour ago", we replied. She was really grateful. Which was a nice instant karmic payback for Ad, who later had to remove several blackthorn splinters, with the aid of a stanley blade.

Had the river to ourselves on the way back, and when we got to Pinkhill Resevoir, we discovered that was unusually quiet too. So we got the pick of some nice mooring spots, as well.