West Retford Visitor Moorings to before Osberton Top Turnover Bridge 46
A stowaway showed itself when I was about to brush my teeth. At first I thought it was a leaf on my shoulder, I didn’t have my glasses on, but it was a very hairy leaf! I carefully removed my t-shirt to inspect it closer. Gosh what a creature, spikes and slodges and hairy bits all over. How long had it been sat on my shoulder for? Had it watched episode 8 of The Handmaids Tale which had been quite riveting last night? Would it want to stay another two nights to see the end? I decided that it would far prefer to be back on something green outside.
I walked ahead windlass in hand, key of power in my pocket, not so far to the first lock today. Across the fields I could almost see where I’d alighted the bus on Saturday to walk through the Nature Reserve back to Oleanna, it would only be a twenty minute walk from here.
Today there would be memorials, trees planted for missed ones, miles stones dedicated to family and boat trips.
We climbed up the Forest Locks, Bottom, Middle Bottom, Middle Top and finally Top Lock. We’d been following NB Scimitar who had pulled up on the 2 day moorings below Middle Top. The lady leant a hand with the bottom gates, our paths may cross over the next week as we’re both aiming for the top of the navigable canal. We paused in Middle Top to dispose of some fishy packaging, use of shore based facilities and to clear the prop before heading on.
At Forest Top Lock I climbed back onboard Oleanna, not my full brisk minutes done for the day, but a long stretch ahead to where we’d be stopping for lunch. The canal kinks round to run parallel to the A1 for a while through Randby. NB Seth Ellis a trip boat wasn’t on it’s mooring, where would we come across them?
There is a tight bend just before the canal goes under the A1. Oleanna didn’t want to turn, the depth not sufficient for her to respond to the tiller. Reverse, still no response, Back further we seemed to be sat on something. More umph required, tooing and froing and we were on the move again just as well as we met NB Seth Ellis under the A1 bridge. The helm said how nice it was to see another boat.
A lunch break on the 2 day moorings soon afterwards. When we’d been this way nine years ago we had our friend Frank with us. We’d been trying to find somewhere suitable for a barbeque that evening. I suspect we’d thought this mooring was too close to the A1 for it to be pleasant to sit out, there must be somewhere else. However we should have pulled in, wide grassy area and enough depth, a nice mooring despite the A1. After lunch we needed to crack on. I walked ahead to top up on the minutes.
There are some canals that stay with you even if you’ve only travelled them once, others fade even though you’ve been on them several times. The Chesterfield is one of the former. Today we had the clear clear water and masses of fish swimming past, none quite as big as Frank had suggested nine years ago ‘a meter, I could swear it was a meter!’ Dragonflies of gold and blue darted back and forth, were they being amorous or seeing each other off? All far too quick to even manage to turn the camera on before they’d flitted away.
I walked past fields of cabbages or greens. Was this near where the posh horsey place was? The next lock was most certainly familiar. The bywash comes down on the side of the towpath just like a stream. The bridge below the lock and the lock cottage fenced off from view.
Once Oleanna was up the lock the two of us tried to open the top gate, a big mass of reeds in the way. What we needed now was a barge pole, or hook to try to get it the mass out. Another Deja Frank moment. Mick returned with the boat hook, we didn’t want a recurrence of what happened nine years ago when Frank used the pole to try to lift the reeds out of the water, the weight of which and ‘the pole must have been rotten’, snapped it in half. No more pole! We relived that moment.
The towpath here is closed, a falling down bridge ahead. A sign on the gate and padlocks, plus a CRT work boat on the lock landing. Someone though has sorted out access, the remains of four of the five bars of the gate lie close by, splintered ends and then sawn ends. There is quite a stretch of towpath closed, but it hasn’t stopped people, we later had some walkers and an electric bike come past us.
We passed the spot where we’d just about managed to get into the side to enjoy our barbeque on NB Lillyanne. Frank had never had bananas with chocolate cooked on the coals before ‘Bloody disgusting that! Is there any more?!’ Tilly was also chased up a tree by a dog, a rare thing. She stayed out really quite late that night, Well woofers nearly always walk that way and then this way, so I stayed up the tree for when it came back.
A while later we pulled in close to the 23 mile stone. Armco and a good place for Tilly for the night, an hours cruise to Kilton Low Lock 52 which will be opened tomorrow morning for assisted passage.
Time to catch up with Frank and tell him how big the fish had been today and that our barge pole had survived the day. Sock pair 102 were cast off by the end of the evening, just the ends to weave in then they can be hand delivered in a week or so.
5 locks, 6.4 miles, 56 brisk minutes walked, 1 punk rocker caterpillar, 1 boat overtaken, 2 willows trimmed, 1 lunch stop, 1 weed hatch visit, 1.5 hours shore leave, 0 trees climbed, 102 cast off, 7 courgette fritters, 1 barge pole still in 1 piece.
