amanda castleman - sunken treasure

Bottom feeder
January 2003

THE WRECK OF THE NARROWBOAT HARMONIA (aka Moshulu)
Our beloved boat sank (again) on 12 January 2003, thanks to a burst water pipe. She was refloated within 18 hours, but remains damp and reeking of diesel. Amanda went north to help dry her out.

Harmonia in drier days

HOW IT WENT DOWN: Tenant Gez was away for the weekend – but hadn't thought to drain the water heater or turn off the water pump. The weather, after all, was decent.

But a cold snap set in, icing the pipes, then thawing them. One fragmented, sending a plume of water into the kitchen. Relentlessly, the pump spurted the entire contents of our water tank into the cabin. On most vessels, this would have been a soggy – but not catastrophic – situation.

Not so with Harmonia, whose quirky construction proved to be an Achilles' heel. She is ever so slightly unbalanced by the built-in fixtures down the right side of the boat – and prone to yawing over on that side, especially when the unusually-large water tank becomes low and unbalanced.

Fetid water
poured in through
the bilges and sent
her plunging to
the bottom
The flood in the cabin disrupted Harmonia's precarious balance. The water was a foot or so higher than normal, which aggravated her usual list. She keeled over at a sharp angle, until the deck drain submerged in the canal. Then all hell broke loose.

Harmonia before: apparently
the high water mark was around
the blue moulding board
OIL CRISIS: Fetid water poured in through the bilges and sent her plunging to the bottom (luckily only a few feet down). But the murky liquid mixed with a long-forgotten tank of diesel in the front of the boat. An early owner, quite eccentric, had attempted a front-mounted engine, so he could steer without the heat, rattle and noise of a Lister SL3 at his feet. The plan – ill-conceived for a 52-foot barge – failed, and the engine was shifted back. But not the diesel tank ... So the cabin is sodden with diesel, as well as water, which does nothing for its ambience.
Two neighbours broke in, trying to save her: former tenant Claire Nicholls and Giles Shearing, boat repair man and artist extraordinaire. But Harmonia went down. The high water mark was about 3 feet inside, we're told.

Giles brought her up the next day, pumped her out and began cleaning and repairing her systems. Gez – and his family – mucked in with the damage control (10 loads of laundry, dry-cleaning and countless hours of scrubbing). Two weeks later, she was dry, but whiffed powerfully of fuel.

The insurance adjustor seemed sympathetic about everything but the wall and floors, which he suspected had some damage from a previous sinking and a more recent window leak. This is quite worrisome. The woodwork, admittedly, hadn't been perfect – but it hadn't been saturated with scummy canal liquid and diesel either.

Despite Gez's best efforts, Harmonia was still damp two weeks later (it's difficult to keep the stove blazing 24-7 while he's at work and sleeping elsewhere). So Amanda flew up from Cyprus to tend the home fires – and helped install a swanky new stove and central heating. Despite snowstorms and the horror of excavating a drowned rat from the wall, she managed to leave the boat dry, fragrant and functional.

Huge thanks to the friends who helped salvage our home: heroic Giles, bold and observant Claire, the resourceful Russell family, wall-wreckers Dan Taylor and Jez Smith, foam cutter and ace chef Benji Ming, technical advisor Giles Hogben, tolerant Stephen Franks and the nice Summertown manager at LloydsTSB, plus all the angelic folks who offered hospitality to a frenzied woman reeking of diesel: Kirsty and Flora, Rich Cook, George Frew and darling Anna Melville-James.

BEEN THERE, DONE THAT: Harmonia's first wreck was courtesty of British Waterways. The canal authority had accidentally wedged a dredger under a bridge. They planned to lower the water level to gain clearance – and warned boaters to slacken mooring lines. Kirsten, the previous owner, was away, saving dolphins in the Hebrides. No one remembered to loosen her ropes.

The narrowboat was on a short leash when the draining began. She couldn't float free into deeper water and grounded on a mudbank. In fact, she suctioned on – and stayed there when the canal was re-filled. BW had her up and into the boatyard before Kirsten returned from Scotland. When the insurance money came through, she built the gorgeous wood interior that earns Harmonia so much glory. Unfortunately, all that lovely pine was laid over soggy chipboard, which will eventually undermine the floor.

But Harmonia has risen from the primordial mud before... and shall do so again. We hope.

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Bottom feeder January 2003		THE WRECK OF THE NARROWBOAT HARMONIA (aka Moshulu) Our beloved boat sank (again) on 12 January 2003, thanks to a burst water pipe. She was refloated within 18 hours, but remains damp and reeking of diesel. Amanda went north to help dry her out.
Harmonia in drier days		HOW IT WENT DOWN: Tenant Gez was away for the weekend – but hadn't thought to drain the water heater or turn off the water pump. The weather, after all, was decent. But a cold snap set in, icing the pipes, then thawing them. One fragmented, sending a plume of water into the kitchen. Relentlessly, the pump spurted the entire contents of our water tank into the cabin. On most vessels, this would have been a soggy – but not catastrophic – situation. Not so with Harmonia, whose quirky construction proved to be an Achilles' heel. She is ever so slightly unbalanced by the built-in fixtures down the right side of the boat – and prone to yawing over on that side, especially when the unusually-large water tank becomes low and unbalanced.
Fetid water poured in through the bilges and sent her plunging to the bottom		The flood in the cabin disrupted Harmonia's precarious balance. The water was a foot or so higher than normal, which aggravated her usual list. She keeled over at a sharp angle, until the deck drain submerged in the canal. Then all hell broke loose.
Harmonia before: apparently the high water mark was around the blue moulding board		OIL CRISIS: Fetid water poured in through the bilges and sent her plunging to the bottom (luckily only a few feet down). But the murky liquid mixed with a long-forgotten tank of diesel in the front of the boat. An early owner, quite eccentric, had attempted a front-mounted engine, so he could steer without the heat, rattle and noise of a Lister SL3 at his feet. The plan – ill-conceived for a 52-foot barge – failed, and the engine was shifted back. But not the diesel tank ... So the cabin is sodden with diesel, as well as water, which does nothing for its ambience. Two neighbours broke in, trying to save her: former tenant Claire Nicholls and Giles Shearing, boat repair man and artist extraordinaire. But Harmonia went down. The high water mark was about 3 feet inside, we're told. Giles brought her up the next day, pumped her out and began cleaning and repairing her systems. Gez – and his family – mucked in with the damage control (10 loads of laundry, dry-cleaning and countless hours of scrubbing). Two weeks later, she was dry, but whiffed powerfully of fuel. The insurance adjustor seemed sympathetic about everything but the wall and floors, which he suspected had some damage from a previous sinking and a more recent window leak. This is quite worrisome. The woodwork, admittedly, hadn't been perfect – but it hadn't been saturated with scummy canal liquid and diesel either. Despite Gez's best efforts, Harmonia was still damp two weeks later (it's difficult to keep the stove blazing 24-7 while he's at work and sleeping elsewhere). So Amanda flew up from Cyprus to tend the home fires – and helped install a swanky new stove and central heating. Despite snowstorms and the horror of excavating a drowned rat from the wall, she managed to leave the boat dry, fragrant and functional. Huge thanks to the friends who helped salvage our home: heroic Giles, bold and observant Claire, the resourceful Russell family, wall-wreckers Dan Taylor and Jez Smith, foam cutter and ace chef Benji Ming, technical advisor Giles Hogben, tolerant Stephen Franks and the nice Summertown manager at LloydsTSB, plus all the angelic folks who offered hospitality to a frenzied woman reeking of diesel: Kirsty and Flora, Rich Cook, George Frew and darling Anna Melville-James. BEEN THERE, DONE THAT: Harmonia's first wreck was courtesty of British Waterways. The canal authority had accidentally wedged a dredger under a bridge. They planned to lower the water level to gain clearance – and warned boaters to slacken mooring lines. Kirsten, the previous owner, was away, saving dolphins in the Hebrides. No one remembered to loosen her ropes. The narrowboat was on a short leash when the draining began. She couldn't float free into deeper water and grounded on a mudbank. In fact, she suctioned on – and stayed there when the canal was re-filled. BW had her up and into the boatyard before Kirsten returned from Scotland. When the insurance money came through, she built the gorgeous wood interior that earns Harmonia so much glory. Unfortunately, all that lovely pine was laid over soggy chipboard, which will eventually undermine the floor. But Harmonia has risen from the primordial mud before... and shall do so again. We hope.
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