About this memory
(Continued from Part One)
Not a couple of hundred yards from our front door the Union Canal ran its derelict route. There was a towpath and banks covered with undergrowth and trees. Great for all sorts of games, climbing and swinging opportunities and even rudimentary boating projects.
Once we built a raft using whatever we could find in the way of wood and some acquired oil drums. It was an ambitious project and was surprisingly successful considering it was a committee build and thus more of an accumulation than a construction. But we lacked foresight and instead of making it close to the bank we worked on it at a distance which meant manhandling it over several hundred yards to launch it. It floated, almost unbelievably, and only one boy fell in on the maiden voyage. But it was too heavy to paddle successfully and started to be carried westward by the wind and away from our patch. The following day saw it well on it’s way to Falkirk, and we little boys hopeful that no one would connect us with the pathetic hulk.
(Continued in Part Three)