canalboat.co.uk Canal Boat January 2018 25I
t was a bit of a shock, I can
tell you. When I pressed the
starting button, instead of
the throaty thud of my JP3
engine powering into life...
there was a barely audible click
followed by an ominous silence.
Now, in the 25 years we’ve had
our boat Justice, I can’t, hand on
heart, say we’ve NEVER had
problems starting our engine.
There was once – ten years
ago or so, was it? – when I
wasted an hour or so tinkering
with the starting motor until
Moira, who’d just brought me a
cup of tea to bolster my morale,
observed that it might work
better if I switched on the
electricity that made it go.
Then there was that time
more recently when I’d got the
sound of a click too – but that
was just the starting motor
sticking and after turning the
flywheel by hand, the problem
was solved.
This time, however, I could
have got the flywheel spinning
like a Catherine wheel and it
wouldn’t have made the
slightest difference. The next
time I hit the starting button,
there wasn’t even a click. It was
patently clear what the trouble
was. My starting battery was
dead, that was what the trouble
was. The battery had snuffed it.
It was as lifeless as a deceased
parrot. My first response was to
be offended because I always
feel offended when I have any
problems of any sort with the
boat engine. That’s because the
boat engine and I have an
intimate relationship, and itsfailure to start when I want it to
start is not just a breakdown –
it’s a breakdown of trust. It’s like
your partner deciding they want
to sleep in a separate bed.
But then I got thinking about
starting batteries, neglected bits
of equipment as they are. On
most boats they’re tucked away
inaccessibly in the bilges or, as
in our case, at the back of the
engine room covered with
boxes of bits that haven’t been
opened for years.
The bank of three domestic
batteries, by way of comparison,
sit on their own shelf, high up in
the boat, cleaned and cosseted,
checked and nursed, as if they
were they were concubines in a
harem.
And what is worse is that
most of us, when we come to
replace the domestic batteries
every three or four years,
always ask ourselves whether
it’s worth changing the starting
battery at the same time.Because starting batteries
don’t get a lot of wear, do they?
They start the engine, and...
well, that’s it for the rest of the
day. They knock off early. Being
a starting battery isn’t exactly a
hard life, and when there are so
many other expenses involved
in boating, it’s too easy to put off
their replacement for another
time. Yet think what it must feel
like being a starting battery.
Orphaned doesn’t begin to
explain the sense of
abandonment and rejection
they experience – especially
when they see the care lavished
on the batteries in the posh spot
further up the boat.
I can’t honestly remember the
last time we replaced our
starting battery. I think it may
have been 12 years ago, but
Moira thinks it may have been
even longer, though neither of
us knows for sure because the
poor old thing didn’t even
warrant a mention in the log
when it first joined us. Its
leaving seems like the loss of an
old friend.
And talking about the sadness
of things that need replacing
when they’re broken, it’s been a
cheerless experience recentlyfollowing the ongoing Night of
the Long Knives at the Canal &
River Trust where a number of
top managers have been made
redundant or taken early
retirement. Some of these have
been with the Trust, and before
that with its predecessor British
Waterways, for decades; some
have worked for as long as 40
years and have devoted a
lifetime to the waterways.
But it had to happen. Chief
executive Richard Parry has
been in post more than three
years now, and predictably he
has shaped the organisation in
his own vision as much by the
appointments he has made as
the policies he’s pursued.
However, this has led to an
unjustifiably large and top-
heavy management structure
that should have been pruned a
long time ago. Parry’s attempts
to slim the charity from the top
down are welcomed, but he
should move carefully if he’s
thinking of extending
redundancies from the office to
the towpath where staff
numbers are already barely
sufficient for the job in hand.
Follow me on Twitter
@CutdreamerStay positive with sound battery care
STEVE HAYWOOD
Award-winning current affairs TV producer, journalist and author who has been a boat owner for nearly 40 years‘This time, however, I could have got
the flywheel spinning like a Catherine
wheel and it wouldn’t have made the
slightest difference’Don’t negelect the important items