At eleven p.m. on Sunday, 27th April, 2003, I strolled out at the end of my shift, a free man - at least for a few months.

At about 10 a.m. on the 30th, Dot and I slipped Catcho's mooring lines for the last time from Billing Aquadrome, and puttered just around the corner to Billing Lock - our first ever lock on England's inland waterway system. It was pretty straightforward stuff.

I was reasonably aware of how locks work, having served some time in the France canals, and having been a frequent observer of other boaters. So I motored into the chamber confidently, nipped up the ladder with the lines, and passed the free ends back to Dot to control the boat. The first bit was easy, unlock the switchbox and press the button to lower the guillotine bottom gate. Then stroll up to the top end of the lock, and open the paddles in the pointing gates, to let the chamber fill. Now open the top gates - both of them, another stroll - and get aboard the boat to drive it out to the pontoon or landing quay in the next pound. Finally, after tying up there, stroll back, close the top gates, and by operating the guillotine gate again, leave the lock empty, top gates closed, bottom gate open.

Repeat this medicine three times in total - now for three more wide River Nene locks, each with pointing doors at both ends! Instead of having electric power to do one end of the lock, you are back to relying on mere human strength to do the job. There are three of these completely manual locks before reaching the top of the Nene, and all three of them were surprisingly tough to operate, considering their clean tidy and well-serviced appearance. In one case, it took my weight and strength plus that of a kind-hearted dog-walker to get the bottom gates open, and it was a struggle to close them again.

The Nene is in reasonable condition, although there is the constant amount of graffiti and odd vandalism you expect in a large town - but at least the padlocks prevent damage or misuse of lock equipment. Once on the British Waterways owned Northampton arm, the narrow beam equipment seems less well maintained and surroundings a bit more run-down in the city hinterlands. At the first narrow lock, we were warned by some boaters to be sure that we through the next lock, 16, before the schools kicked out, or expect a few stones and half-bricks.

We managed that trick, although not without some worry, as the outboard's cooling system seemed to be getting a little clogged with floating debris - grass cuttings, rushes and the accumulated litter which open water seems to attract. Within a short time, we arrived at lock 13, the bottom lock of the Rothersthorpe flight. It was about 4 o'clock . . .

At about half-past seven, we were approaching the top lock - Dot phoned and found a taxi firm who would collect her at Gayton Marina, at eight. By five past, we managed to tie-up there, only to discover that we couldn't get through the gate out to where the taxi was waiting! A quick rethink, and I dropped her off at about a quarter-past eight, at a bridge near Gayton Junction, where she jumped into her cab for the journey back to Billing, to collect her car for her back to Felixstowe, and work on Thursday morning, lucky lady.

For me, it was a case of find a quiet bit of towpath, hammer in the pins and secure the lines, then re-erect the windscreen, put up the cockpit cover, and get something to eat and drink.

23 locks between 10 am and 8 pm, and about 9½ miles along the way . . . It was a baptism of fire, for complete canal novices, and of quite a lot of water - some of it we were floating upon, and other considerable amounts of the stuff came down on us as we went along!