It's been a monthly publication for over two years, and I find it rather good - a great summary of the important things for canal users.

Contents this month include the new Cool Canals guidebook on special discounted offer.  I'd never actually heard of Cool Canals until now.  But I'm sure that's OK with author-photographers Phillippa Greenwood and Martine O'Callaghan; I'd be surprised if they've heard of me either. 

Also listed is the latest Annual Report & Accounts from British Waterways - 90 pages of sheer (albeit necessary) tedium, alleviated by some very nice design.  They've made a real silk purse out of it. 

The micawberish bottom line on the UK waterways last year: 

Annual income:  £223.3 million
Annual expenditure: £296.2 million aught and sixpence.
Result: Misery

But the thing that really caught my eye was the 25th Anniversary of the Blisworth Tunnel restoration.

Now, call me a curmugeon, but am I alone in getting fed up with all these contrived and unnecessary anniversaries? 

I can understand the moon landing anniversary this weekend - although 50 would be a better one than 40.  But it was, after all, BIG history, perhaps being seen as the most significant event of the 20th century.  (War notwithstanding.  I fear men will never leave this planet again, but they will sadly continue to kill each other).   And probably half of the remaining 9 moonwalkers will be dead in ten years.

But the 25th anniversary of a tunnel repair?  I mean, c'mon!   Would that it were the only over-celebrated milestone, but anniversaries are everywhere these days, have you noticed?  

Make a note in your diary for March 2029, which is the 25th anniversary of the reopening of the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct after its recent major overhaul.  I wrote about that event here.

Only last year I was tempted - sorely - to celebrate the fifth anniversary of this blog, but managed to hold myself.  But next month is the sixth anniversary of www.grannybuttons.com, and that's an odd-enough birthday to celebrate.  I plan to do it by going across the Wash.

But a last point about the Boaters' Update.  It really ought to be a blog.  I mean, each of its items would make a great blog post - all of them would, wouldn't they?   How about it, Mr Waterscape?

They were slowly paddling their floating golden raft and - er, 'singing' a medley of  Jackson hits to the accompaniment of - er, Pachelbel's Canon.  It's redolent of Verdi's Chorus of the Hebrew - er, Slaves.

Lest you accuse them of bad taste, there was something almost elegiac about their backing tune, rather funereal and appropriate.   If they are taking the mickey out of anyone, it's not the dear departed.

In a blog post this week, Neil this week muses interestingly on the options about where to base his boat.

A clear worry is about cost (and Neil mentions price a lot; it's clearly on his mind).  But he also talks about variety, options and the facilities available at moorings.

His recent time on the Anglian rivers makes him wonder if the £1,700pa he pays for a London-area mooring is worth it, and he tosses up the option of a possible £300 on a yacht-club river mooring compared with the chance of the river being in flood for two months a year.

[Gosh, that takes me back!  A quick detour down Memory Lane:

I remember the autumn of 2002, when I was stranded on the Nene for a fortnight by flooding at Oundle Cruising Club.  The club was VERY hospitable, but being stuck there for two weeks did feel like a gilded cage.  (I joined the club for two years, and still have the burgee.) 

And I remember just two months later at Redhill Marina on the River Soar and Trent, where I was marooned by flooding all over Christmas and the New Year.  Again, nice people with nice manners who honoured me with safety at low cost, but I wished to be back with the comfort blanket of my canals.

However, canals aren't always secure either.  The following summer I reached the outskirts of Liverpool and was dismayed to find myself trapped for four weeks at Mersey Motor Boat Club by a canal breach.

But that particular time did provide one of my more bizarre experiences.  BW offered the trapped boats a get-out-of-Liverpool-free card, and I took up their offer. 

I followed my boat on Lancashire lanes between Burscough and White Bear Marina, and my abiding memory is of Granny Buttons overtaking a tractor pulling straw.  I was following at about 40mph - irresponsibly taking a photo while driving - and the boat was still accelerating away!]

Neil mentions two other options:

There ought to be a mooring swap system, that would be good. 

Or we could do what Granny Buttons does and that is move every week or two - a bit of a commitment that and a bit risky but Andrew seems to manage it OK.

I don't know about a mooring swap system, but it probably exists, even if only informally.

And my continuous cruising isn't a cheap option either, Neil.  For most of the last ten years I've been moving slowly but surely around England (and a bit of Wales), only staying longer than a fortnight when I'm having work done on my boat. 

I'd guess that my continuous cruising is costing me at least £3,500 a year in additional travel costs to and from the boat, perhaps 45 times a year,  on top of owning the boat and the cost of the regular car shuffle. 

Continuous cruising is not the cheap option.

See Mick G's Standedge Tunnel set.

I guess they must have gone in as a team, although you wouldn't know it to see this latest set, which doesn't mention any joint expedition, and includes rather more information about the construction of the four tunnels through Standedge Hill.  

Or did they go in alone?  Phill D's photos seem to have been taken on July 5th, while Mick's were taken the following day - if we assume they set the dates correctly on the cameras.

I particularly enjoyed the 'skeleton in the alcove', and the 'hearth' which allowed tunnel workers to cook meals without having to make the 3-mile round trip to the tunnel exit for lunch. 

Hiring a dayboat is a great way of celebrating a birthday.  Even though I've got my own little floating paradise of a womb (inside Granny Buttons), I'd still be inclined to hire a dayboat.  There's something pleasant about knowing someone else has to clear up after the revelries.

I think this photo was taken about 2004, which would mean they are in line for a 70th birthday trip by now.  Tempus does indeed fugit.

By the way, notice how we were both having to take evasive action.  That was probably more my fault than theirs - I was too busy looking through the camera to steer!  

Another point: I found it hard to get the right colour balance in this picture.  Eventually I use Granny's roof as a 'neutral grey' to balance the picture.   It's not truly neutral, more a faint sort of steely-blue.

Here's a tip: If you are a photographer and a boat owner, ensuring your own boat roof is painted a pantone sort of neutral grey might help you balance and adjust your own pictures more easily.

Yesterday I left Streethay Wharf after my annual servicing and repairs.  Granny Buttons is looking so much nicer.   Didn't get away until 1pm, 3 hours after my planned departure, but heck, what's new about that?

Delayed departures always seem serendipitous to me.  If I'd been on time yesterday I'd have missed the charity raft race, from The Plough at Huddlesford to The Swan at Whittington.

One of the most pleasant parts of the serendipity is wandering through the crowds asking them what the hell's this all about?, who's the organiser?, and then finding out the details - and promptly forgetting them.   My tactic is to ask nosey questions of everyone I can find - without taking notes - and gradually build up the smell and the sound of the crowd, and then latch on to a favourite and follow them as a microcosm of the event.

The picture (right) shows the organiser/s with the landlords of The Plough and The Swan at Whittington, the latter looking very fetching in his 1940s floral print dress.

So, no surprise that I don't remember which team won (sorry!).   As soon as I cast eyes on The Jackson Four, and they told me about their golden casket raft, I knew which team was planning to arrive last. 

They didn't disappoint, entertaining the straggling crowds with a cheerfully incompetent medley of songs in a very unjacksonian key, before all taking a bow (and a dip in the water) to the crowds at the finishing line in the garden of the Swan.  Never mind an entrance, they knew - like the real Jacksons - how to make an exit. 

I've got a video of them on my new iPhone - remind me to youtube it.

The one on the right of the headline picture says he's a twitterer - @jimmyvegasdj - but that his real name is Tito.  Or was it Jermaine.  None of them seemed sure.

One thing that surprised me was the absence of BW lengthsmen at the event, or any sense that they even knew about it.

But I heard from one local canal expert that while the event was regular in the 1990s, it was stopped for a variety of bureaucratic reasons, and this is the first revival of the new century.   I hope it's not the last.  

This long gap was emphasised by the official event guide, which detailed the results of the 1995 race - presumably the previous one - with a winning time of 19:09 (min/secs) and a losing time of  87:29 mins.

One thing I'd like to have seen would have been towpath signs warning boaters of the event and instructing them to keep to the offside of the canals, leaving the towpath side to the rafts.  But I thought it was great that it seemed self-policing.   God save us from the day that BW itself enters a team.

Although, it would be fun to see how they built and crewed a raft.

And finally - no, I can't tell you anything more about the Daisy Grace Meningitis fund, sorry.  There's nothing on the web about it - indeed, my tweets and this post are already the only things I can find.  If you aren't on the web you aren't anywhere. 

Still, they are now on Granny Buttons, which I think is no small tribute.    And probably worth a lot more than the £1 I owe them for the programme they gave me :-)

This one is Time on the Thames by Eric de Maré, and he writes:

It was published in 1952 and, like his The Canals of England; it was published by the Architectural Press. It includes some delightful and artistic monochrome photographs and is a good read.

It is largely a description of the Thames from its estuary to its source. Some of descriptions are familiar, and a lot of the history should be familiar because it is covered elsewhere, but two quirky aspects immediately caught my attention. ...

I couldn't resist; after reading Steve's review, I hunted for a copy of the book myself.

I've ordered a 1975 edition, via AbeBooks ('Advanced Book Exchange', the second-hand online book marketplace).    A bit of a gamble.  I do hope the 1975 edition hasn't removed some of the quainter stories.

The problem is so often that you have to commit to a contract - but how do you know which of the four or five main services will give you the best coverage and speed.

I've been agonising over this myself a lot recently.  Consumer website Bitter Wallet has an amusing comment: 

Three, who were 3G pioneers, fare well, as do Orange, whereas the 3G power wielded by T Mobile, O2 and Vodafone is, to be frank, piss poor. This explains why surfing the net using your mobile phone or your dongle can be as laborious and aggravating as trying to removed a thorn from your paw with a tea spoon.

If you live in the countryside, you probably shouldn’t even be reading this, because it looks like no one even wants you to have the internet. You should probably stick to thatching roofs and drink driving at night.

I recommend you download the latest 3G coverage maps, published by Ofcom. (PDF)

As Bitter Wallet points, out, Three clearly has the best coverage (pic 1 above), whereas that of O2 (pic 2, below) and Vodafone is very disappointing.

I only wish I could get my Three broadband dongle working with my laptop.  Unfortunately the technical support is terrible and they refuse to answer my questions.

How I wish WiMax would become more common.