Small steps in the new engine saga.

Paul Redshaw came to measure our engine 'ole prior to making our engine mountings. 

We've established that we need to shorten the propshaft by four inches and that we'll need to get a new, slightly larger, lefthand propellor with more pitch which will suit the lower-revving Sabb.

If this takes more than a few weeks, we'll probably miss the chance to take Freyja out for a test cruise due to the state of the river and E.A. closures.

We'll also have to work out a neat solution for our new gearchange, fit an improved speedwheel, and replace some of our gauges.

It's a slow slog, but we're looking forward to the day when we finally boof, boof, boof our way out onto the river.

Hoots mon, there's a mouse, loose about our (floating) house!

When the festival season finished, I returned from the No6 Festival in Portmeirion, north Wales. on returning to the boats, we realised that we were not alone!

We wondered how he was climbing up onto the tugdeck! (spoof photo! Not our mouse!)

There was scratching and munching noises coming from behind the bedroom panels and Glenda thought she heard it on or near the tugdeck. I pulled up the decking and Glenda left a few tasty snacks.

Next day, it had taken the bait, we definitely had a wee beastie!

So, with heavy heart, I bought a trap and some mouse poison.

First, we tried putting the trap on the tugdeck, the sneaky little bugger munched the bait three times without springing the trap.

So I baited another trap, this time it was a humane trap, this I put in the bilge under the cabin floor. Our little lodger now had a life or death choice!

We found that it had been chomping on a large packet of porridge oats, so everything munchable had to be moved and sealed and then stashed in the butty.

We decided to make things a little more difficult for the blighter. We used a sticky bit of Snickers bar with added chocolate and oats, but somehow he managed to tuck in and survived to squeak the tale (tail?) in the morning.

Oh, Oh! It looked like it was time to add the poison!

But, just then CLACK! He (or she) had gone back for a final fatal lick.

R.I.P. little mouse, a burial at sea followed (well, burial at lake actually).

Our wiring etc. has, hopefully, survived intact.