The next morning the tides were high enough for us to leave. The dock gates were opened and while Lawrence got ropes and engine ready (with a little help from Clive) Lorna busied herself painting the name on the back, with water lapping at the base of her ladder.

Leaving under our own power had been our dream for the last month but the reality was quite terrifying. The engine hadn't been used in earnest for probably 7 or 8 years, so this was its big test.

It all sounds very easy really, but I haven't bored you with the details of not having a bathroom, the delights of Paull's social scene (think of the whole pub going silent as you walk in, in the film ‘Werewolf of London') and Lorna's Dad 200 miles away with leukaemia. It wasn't the most pleasant month of our lives, but the end result for Waterdog was fantastic.

The filling of the dock took some time, so it was starting to get dark as we left for Hull Marina. We had visited by car earlier in the week to check out mooring for a couple of days since the forecast and tides weren't very good for our trip back to Goole. After some strong negotiations with the marina manager –she insisted that there wasn't a berth available when there clearly was – we were given permission to stay for 1 night.

The journey didn't take very long, but there were a few concerned shouts from the engine room. Lawrence and Clive managed to panic about oil leaks (which turned out to be due to overfilling) and a lack of visibility (due to 8 years of oil burning off the engine and a leaking exhaust) while keeping them from Lorna at the helm, allowing her to concentrate on steering a 27m barge on the Humber. This was enough of a worry in its own right for a first-timer.

We made it to the marina lights though, but couldn't yet breathe a sigh of relief. Manoeuvring Waterdog into the marina lock was quite tricky, especially since it was dark and we'd never manoeuvred her anywhere under power before. The tide runs hard past the entrance, so you have to start steering towards it in a ferry glide, far earlier than you would expect. The bow then leaves the tidal effect and starts to swing around while the stern is still being carried past. Phew! Once inside the outer basin, things quietened down a bit and we just had to squeeze into the lock. Luckily we managed without too many scratches on the new paintwork, and we could finally tie up and relax for the night, exhilarated but exhausted!

The forecast was bad for a couple of days, giving us a chance to recover our energy before the next leg and despite the wishes of the marina manger. Three days later, the weather had improved and the tide was right at 4:30am, so we decided to head for home.

Leaving Hull with the tide at 0430.

The journey was lovely. In the dark there were a few too many local lights to be able to see the channel buoys clearly until right up close, but as the sun came up the river looked spectacular. Approaching Goole the rising tide was so high that they had to physically clamp the lock gate shut to ensure the town couldn't be flooded, so we had to wait outside for half an hour while the top of the tide passed. We headed for the waiting pontoon, but no sooner had we come alongside than we were being called to go into the lock. We turned around and entered the lock, provided our details to the lock keeper and slowly rose to meet the level of the canal. With the wheelhouse being so high, we also needed the bridge open, so we took care not to rush out of the lock, so that the lock keeper could get to the bridge and open it for us without us having to tie up and wait.

We were tied up by Goole marina by 09:00 and absolutely shattered from the early start, physical work and adrenalin rushes. It was only at this point that Lawrence chose to own up to the thrashing and banging sounds that had been coming from the gearbox since Hull . This turned out to be knackered bearings in the reduction box and well worth worrying about but thankfully, at the time, ignorance was bliss.