For those unacquainted with nautical terms see glossary below.
Nautical term: English translation
Bow: Pointy end
Stern: Blunt end
Mooring: Parking spaces
Mooring up: Parking
Cruising: Driving
Loop with double half hitch: An easy knot (to get wrong)
Below decks: A challengingly small space downstairs
Bilge pump: A sort of random alarm call during the night
Boat hook: Effective tool provided for repelling invaders
Mop: A less effective tool for repelling invaders
Wash: Waves (alt. an interesting experience in the shower)
Berths: 2 x the sleeping space available
On the first day I didn't want to travel too far having never actually driven anything much bigger than a canoe on the water before and was a little concerned about parking (especially reverse parking) despite the very good tuition from the guy from the boat yard (who happened to be a twitcher) who basically explained that steering largely doesn't work in reverse.
The nice thing about this boat is that the steering wheel is on top which is reasonably high and gives you good views over the reedbeds, marshes and fields, which is a definite boon if you want to see the wildlife. Anyway, we decided to park (I mean moor up) at St Benet's Abbey about an hours drive (cruise) from our starting point at Ludham. As it happened, and maybe moor by luck than judgement, I slid into a parking place like a pro with a sense of tremendous pride and tried to look cool as though I did this every day.
During the calm and quiet evening we watched a Barn Owl hunting along the far bank (which wasn't a very far bank) and then a couple of Marsh Harriers, a Grey Heron or two, several Great Crested Grebes, a few Mute Swans, and listened to any number of Cettis Warbler. A trickle of Swallows and House Martins kept passing over, I imagine getting quite anxious to be on their way for their winter holidays in far flung places and warmer climes.
The first night I slept like a log. Happily logs generally float. Awaking early, I squeezed out of my bed, fought with my clothes and ventured above decks to check on the weather which wasn't too bad as it happened, although I couldn't see much as the sun wasn't up. A cup of coffee later and I watched the sun climb above the horizon into the waiting thick blanket of cloud, dousing the lovely early morning light. Still it was dry and warm, calm and quiet, and I had a lovely view of the still water, broken only by... I blinked my blurry eyes.... that was an Otter! The first Otter I have ever seen in the wild, and a sight I had given up hope of ever seeing. I scanned and scanned and waited and waited but it had disappeared.
A Marsh Harrier however had reappeared close by and we sat and watched it bouncing on gentle wing beats along the edge of the reeds when suddenly, right below it, the Otter bobbed up from a small ditch which it must have been exploring. With indecent haste I shot downstairs for my camera and managed a few shots in the gloomy light as it fished its way downstream, spending more time below than above water.
The noise of the shutter seemed to catch its attention, and for a magical moment, it stared right at me before sliding back into its fish laden element
We watched it carry on fishing right into the distance until it disappeared and we turned our attention to the important matter of breakfast during which I wondered if I had just dreamt the images I had just seen. But no, they were on my camera. Not only that, it was heading back along the far bank again!
I lost it as I fumbled to set up the camera and the ever watchful Heron laughed at me.
Maybe he had picked up the trail of bubbles that I just had. This is what an Otter looks like underwater:
and this above:
Amazingly this was one of four Otter sightings we had that day, three others in the evening at Cockshoot Broad when I was cameraless. We glimpsed two following each other very close by, but couldn't find them again. My first day afloat and four Otters, how many would the rest of the week bring? Answer.. none. We just had one of those luckiest of lucky days.
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