The evening that Joe went for a dip in the Soar

This is a little known story that is fondly remembered by Jean and me and is how I have introduced the idea of Joe to ALL my friends in Canada over the years.

My true “bonding” time with Joe was on a brief narrow boat trip to Leicester and back in springtime 2005. The first night we moored at Barrow upon Soar and walked over the bridge to have supper at The Navigation Inn. We all had a few pints and by the time we began our walk back to the boat, we were all a bit tipsy and the rain was really pouring down. Jean led the way, while Joe and I meandered behind her. On the towpath I decided to put myself between Joe and the canal since he was not walking in a straight line and we could hardly see what was canal water and what was rain. Suddenly, Joe veered across my path and walked straight into the canal!

Jean and I stood watching him bob up and down and gasp for air. It didn’t look good. Then Jean said “He can’t swim”. Selfishly (and to my eternal shame), I said “Jean, you’ll have to go in”. Without missing a beat, Jean hauled off her trainers and made a perfect stride jump into the water. She was magnificent in that moment, grabbing Joe around his neck and pulling him over to the edge of the canal. With me kneeling in the mud, my arms under his armpits, and Jean boosting him up from below, we hoisted Joe into the air and onto the path where he quickly revived.

Joe and I turned back to Jean who was still in the water, with her arms crossed on the edge of the canal, a grin on her face. Jean said, “ I’m STANDING on the bottom, Joe.” Well, several minutes later, drying off inside the boat, Joe admitted that he thought he was a goner, and we had a deeply-felt group hug. Jean suggested perhaps it was time to learn to swim. He did, I think. And there were many more trips and many more years for Joe. Happy boating, Joe.