Log Rural Mooring to Drakeholes Visitor Mooring
Some shore leave was granted first thing, then after breakfast and once Tilly had returned the doors were firmly closed. We’re not moving fast along the Chesterfield, well you can’t move fast anyway, but for the next few days we’ve only small distances to travel.
As we rolled up the covers the boat in front of us was making ready to push off too. They’d been moored at Drakeholes yesterday morning, our aimed for destination today. Mick checked the weed hatch…. weed! Quite expected on the Chesterfield. If the levels don’t defeat us getting to the top the weed at this time of the year might do. Having a separate weed hatch, which is isolated from the engine bay, means that Mick can leave the plate that sits over the prop loose as it may need to be opened up several times a day. On a more usual weed hatch this is not a good idea and the plate/lid most definitely needs screwing down securely otherwise you will sink your boat once the prop starts to move.
I walked ahead the half mile to Shaw Lock. The chamber was empty and dry, Oleanna rose up, the bywash being stopped as the lock filled. The top gates didn’t want to stay put so I loitered to make sure they did, we need to conserve as much water as we can this summer.
Another walk on to Gringley Lock. The chamber empty and lovely flowers alongside the lock cottage. Oleanna was lagging some way behind so I had chance to read an information board. The lock was supervised by William Antcliffe for 34 years, every Saturday he would walk to Drakeholes to collect his wages, meandering his way back much later, this suggests he visited a water hole! Possibly The White Swan which became The Mucky Duck, which sadly closed earlier this year.
Above the keystone on the bridge it says W & GN 1830. I’ve hunted round on the internet to see what this might be. I’ve found mention in an interesting article that it most probably refers to George and William Newton two yeoman farmers in Gringley, they were possibly responsible for this bridge which replaced a swing bridge.
Back in August 2016 when we came down this lock we were joined by another boat. The throttle cable failed as the boat entered the lock and instead of going into reverse it sped up crashing into the bottom gates!
I opened the top gate to let Oleanna out a big branch had been in the way, it now was doing it’s best to enter the lock. I hauled it out with a boat hook, Oleanna exited then I went to close the gate. Could I get that gate to close? Could I heck!! Maybe loosing weight isn’t going to serve me well with big lock gates, the extra ballast having been handy in such situations. Mick hadn’t got too far so he came to add extra weight and we got it moving again.
I carried on walking, arranging for a lift when we reached Drakeholes Tunnel.
Crops stood in the fields, golden.
A pink flower here and there on the towpath. I’d remembered the Meadowsweet nine years ago but not this. I checked it with my app. Wild Morning Glory (Bind Weed, but it’s not quite such fairy like name). A bit further along a few more, then more and more!
My photo doesn’t really do it justice, but the towpath looked like a fairy had scattered flowers along its length, so pretty. I’ve always referred to the top end of the Chesterfield as a fairy wood, but they seem to be further down now too.
Blackberries are ripening in the hedgerows. I must start to carry a container or a bag to pick them whilst Oleanna catches me up. Some of them were really huge today and so sweet.
I passed a chap watching dragonflies in the reeds. The canal was so clear it brought back memories of when Frank was with us spotting giant fish. The shape of the canal bed very clear, covered in lettuce. A boat came towards me, the water would now be cloudy.
As the towpath turns a right angle towards Drakeholes Tunnel there was a rustic fence, planks held up on chunky branches, then a little gate made with twigs. More fairies.
I sat and waited for Oleanna and my lift through the tunnel. Time to catch up with Frank, no answer. Time to turn down the offer from a friend of more sock yarn, my bottom drawer is still really rather full of it.
Through Drakeholes our first tunnel of the year! All 154 yards of it. It’ll be our second tunnel too, but will it end up being our last one of 2025?
Round the steep bend we pulled in between two boats. This would do us for the day. A late lunch for us and four hours shore leave for Tilly. I knitted and Mick watched the cycling and cricket. A couple of boats came past, one pulling up behind us with two big dogs on the stern. Mick walked up to chat to them as Tilly was out, but it was dingding time. The Huskies were put inside and I did my very best mad cat woman. I got a response from the tall grasses in the field meaning Tilly came pretty quickly. Popping out from the friendly cover just after the chap on the boat had said something about how aloof cats can be. Excuse me, I always come when called. It’s just that sometimes it takes me a couple of hours to make the journey! Once she was inside the woofers could have their towpath freedom.
2 locks, 3.1 miles, 1 weed hatch visit, 6 moving boats, 1 slow cruise, 1stone 11 lbs too light, 2 outsides, 16524899765 fairy flowers, 1 fairy gate, 51 brisk minutes, 1 sock might need frogging, 3 juicy blackberries, 1 Frank catch up, 1 big vat of dhal and 4 onion bhajis.
I’ve never heard common old bindweed referred to as wild morning glory, but it is a better name for such a pretty thing. Bit of a pest in the flower beds, though that’s my own fault as I often let it flower as they are so lovely. Divine scent too if you can get down that far. Good luck with water levels and weed, Debby
If anyone would know what it was you would. I’m going to carry on thinking of it as Morning Glory as it was so pretty low down along the towpath. White bindweed was in amongst the reeds and got ignored by me.