Late yesterday, another boat moored in front of us. They were still there this morning. We were moored facing upstream, with the tide rushing through the bridge at us, so as we were preparing to leave I knew it would be tricky. I untied the other boat and pulled it back as far as I could, did the same to ours. You can't steer these boats away from a bank -- they steer from the back and you can't swing your stern into the land -- so you have to push the nose out by hand, and then go. Mother is at the wheel, I'm on the bank. I untie the boat, give the nose a hefty push and leap on. Mother guns the throttle. And then we catch an eddy from the bridge and it pushes us towards the other boat. I leap forward, sit on the edge of our boat, plant my right foot on the other boat, and push. There was a push, and a twist, and I heard that familiar tearing, crunching sound from my knee. Ow. Ow, ow, ow. That's me limping for fortnight, then.