"It might work, but it's unproven". These were the most reassuring words that the most experienced man in the leisure boat industry could muster together for us.
We had decided to look in to our idea for a backpackers hostel boat in more detail. Nigel Hamilton, a consultant in leisure boat business start-ups, was not as enthusiastic about the idea as we were.
"Why don't you start a Hotel Boat business?" said Nigel. To give you an analogy, this is like suggesting a nice practical Volvo estate (diesel I might add), to somebody who’s looking for a 1969 split-screen Volkswagen Campervan.
Until WanderingDuck, Hotel Boats were the only overnight canal boat tour available on the UK’s waterways. They tend to cater for the 60+market. You know, those people who have lots of money to spend, and enjoy the comfort of familiarity,so they keep returning. If you were to stop and think about it for a second (and we did), Nigel's advice was logical, practical and made good business sense. But it wasn't for us. We’re travellers at heart. We had an opportunity here to show a relatively unknown way of life to a whole new audience of people who shared our passion for discovery. We would be the first people in decades to be able to offer budget travellers the chance to see this beautiful and little-known historical network of waterways. This was one hell of an opportunity.
So, we stayed true to our original plan. Sat in the Oast House in Manchester with a group of friends, we drew up a list of names for our new venture, which continued on to a Facebook Group. There were some great ideas: "TheUnsunk Bunk" and "International Waters" (where you can do whatyou like!) to the less appealing "Let's Get Shipfaced".
We decided on Wandering Duck; it was fun, unconventional for the waterways and connected well with travelling. We put together a business plan. This essentially is where you say what you hope will happen, and then if the bank thinks it will happen, they agree to lend you some money. They did, but it wasn't until we bought our boat that everything started to feel real.
I was working for a Travel company called Carrier as a travel consultant at the time. I say “travel” in the loosest sense of the word. What I actually sold were holidays.Very exclusive five star holidays at that. The perks of the job were great, but it wasn't “travel” as in my definition of the word. Sipping cocktails on the deck of your private water villa is very nice, but in the words of Marshall Bruce MathersIII, it was time to get “back to reality”. It was time to go get me a boat.
I made the call in my lunch hour, on my walk across to Sainsbury's. As I pressed the contact number of the boat brokers on my phone I felt my palms start to sweat. An overwhelming feeling of fear came across me. This was truly unknown territory, with unknown consequences. A change of path from this moment on. It was a cold and wet December day in 2011 as I crossed the TGI Friday car-park en-route to the supermarket, but I was so anxious that I was almost unaware of where I was as I concentrated on the ringing, waiting for someone to answer at the other end. They did, and I made an offer. The broker said he'd come back to me, and it felt like an anti-climax. I wandered around the expanse of the supermarket in even more of an overwhelmed and disengaged state than I normally do. But on the way back, orange juice in one hand, and bananas and phone in the other, he phoned me back. He told me I had bought a boat. This was it. There was no way out now. My work colleagues knew nothing of my plans, or fast approaching exit from the company, and so this momentous occasion filled with nerves and excitement, was proceeded with a cheese & pickle sandwich and 20 minutes of Sky News in the staff canteen.
We now have a beautiful 69ft narrowboat. We had a few modifications made to the interior layout to make it suitable for our trips, and had it sprayed green. We named the boat “Rakiraki”, the Maori for Duck after our time managing the backpackers hostel in New Zealand.
We picked the boat up in February 2012 in Oxfordshire and spent two and a half weeks cruising from just outside of Bicester up to Derbyshire, passing through the centre of Birmingham and even getting stuck in Wolverhampton for 3 days due to a huge timber merchant fire beside the canal. It’s incredible how you can travel all over England by canal, and rarely does the country feel anywhere near as urban as most people would perceive. Don’t get me wrong, parts of our journey such as the outskirts of Wolverhampton were pretty gritty, but for the most part it was a fantastic way in which to appreciate the open English countryside and its small towns and villages. At 3mph you get to see every detail. You almost feel sorry for those rushing by in their cars missing everything except for the bland expanse of the motorway network. It reminds me of a quote for which there are many variations: “It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end” Ursula K. LeGuin. I guess that’s life.
We had acquired a mooring at Bugsworth Basin. Bugsworth Basin is a little known scheduled ancient monument, with huge importance in the inland waterway world. It was once one of the largest working inland ports in the country, with up to 100 boats a day taking limestone from the nearby Peak District, to Manchester and beyond. It’s been lovingly restored by volunteers over the last 30 years, and we were lucky enough to acquire one of only 4 private moorings there. It’s a beautiful spot.
Safely home atBugsworth, we went to work on the final touches. Books for guests to read, an iPod, my Yamaha acoustic guitar on the wall for people to play. I had the slightly silly idea to install a real ale beer pump. I felt that pubs and English real ale went hand in hand with canal life. After convincing Ruth that this was a good idea (with no idea how I was going to actually put it in to practice), I met up with Lee Wainwright from the Bollington Brewing Company. He helped in getting a pump installed and in return we get to serve his beers which are brewed a 5 minute walk from the canal. Having the big vinyl Wandering Duck logo installed on the side of the boat was the final touch, and was a very exciting time for Ruth and I.
Another challenge was working out our routes. We wanted beautiful scenery, some nice pubs, some interesting history, some nice walks, to be close to public transport links (that was a tough one!), and we needed resources such as water,refuse, and diesel easily available. We also wanted to be close to Manchester. Manchester is Ruth's home town, and where we have lived together for the past 10 years. It’s also worth noting that the Bridgewater Canal, which starts in Manchester, was the first true canal in the UK. But that’s another history lesson.
Ruth is a map geek. She loves them to a degree I will never understand. It comes from her youth days walking the hills of the UK’s National Parks. Particularly the Peak District. Coming up with the perfect route was all her doing. We had a huge map of the canal network on the hallway wall of our flat in Chorlton. It was covered in post-it notes, highlighter pen, and Biro. We looked all over the canals that surround Manchester, until eventually agreeing on the routes very close to those that now feature our tour schedule.
Our friends came on some dummy runs with us in March, and with a little practice behind us, Wandering Duck was born. In April 2012 we took our first paying guests on a 2 night canal boat experience from Macclesfield to Bugsworth Basin. Our dream had finally become a reality.