THOUGHTS of peace, tranquility and communion with nature drifted pleasantly into my mind when invited to join a debating society on a narrow-boat day trip along the Bridgewater Canal.

Perhaps I should have known better! For this wasn't just any old discussion group. These were the rollicking, frolicking lads of the quaintly-named Moss Bank Debating and Walking Stick Club (none of whom sports the slightest suggestion of a limp).

Walking sticks, flourished by all members during every weekly meeting and during regular outings, are, they explain without the faintest flicker of a smile, "the noble symbol of longevity, experience and wisdom."

And that rather zany explanation just about set the tone for the day!

All thoughts of chilling out, taking in Cheshire's canal-bank charm as our boat puttered at a leisurely 4mph from Preston Brook to Lymm, quickly evaporated .

Shortly after casting off, the galley was abuzz with gas-stove activity as a breakfast of thick gammon steaks, sausages, beans, eggs and 'doorstep' slices of bread was rustled up to meet the clamouring of healthy male appetites. A generous shot from the 'grog' ration helped those hefty platefuls down.

For me, this was a maiden canal cruise, but the rest of the crew of a dozen -- ranging from a top glassworks executive to publicans, electrical engineers and a retired pitman -- certainly seemed to know the ropes.

Our skipper for the day advised, as the rum glasses were enthusiastically drained: "Get plenty of grub down you, lad. You'll need as much 'blotting paper' as possible when we step ashore."

It proved to be excellent advice.

Sleepy, leafy Lymm village could never have experienced an invasion like it in all its mediaeval history. Our motley crew swung into the nearest pub -- all oak beams, burnished brasses and old-world charm.

First came the society's traditional 'rattling in' ceremony -- a vigorous clashing together of raised walking sticks -- followed by their own distinctive ceremonial handshake. Life-giving fluid was purchased and eagerly gulped down.

Then, as the smattering of pub regulars stood by wide-eyed in amazement, the show really began. Within a matter of minutes, the pub's low beams were vibrating to the enthusiastic choral singing of those lusty, day-trip sailors.

Then it was out through the door and onward for their second pitstop at a neighbouring, history-steeped watering hole. There, against the backdrop of the bar's welcoming open coal fire, the melodious gang once more struck up with a selection of well-loved ballads and evergreen pops. By this time with well-fuelled additional gusto! This particular Moss Bank society sails under the flag of "comradeship, social activity and good clean fun." And to their credit, the publicans at both venues instantly recognised this. They not only accepted the novel experience but actually joined in!

All too soon, it was time to raise the gangplank and chug back to the boat hire base,10 miles up-canal, serenading the flotillas of startled coots, swans and waterhens en route.

As an experience, I suppose it could be categorised as different. Very different! Though highly enjoyable for all that.

But the next time I plan to chill out for the day, I think I'll instead book a room in Bedlam.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.