Massey’s Bridge 12 to Shobnall Fields
Woofers were audible for quite a lot of last evening and as I set of to walk to the lock there was fencing around an area advertising a woofer baby sitting service, quite a good one by the look of it, where you can leave your dogs to roam in their field having fun. I don’t think the place is open yet, but we may amend where we moor in the area in future as I suspect the woofers will be noisier.
Not long before we pushed off there was plenty of boat traffic coming and going, the last boat heading towards Swarkstone Lock was the hire boat we’d seen at Sawley. We’d end up sharing the next two locks with them. At Swarkstone a CRT volunteer was helping boats through. Apparently the delay in getting the Derwent Mouth pound back up last weekend was because Wychnor Lock, where the water could be let down from is in a different CRT region. So to get water sent down someone couldn’t just jump in a van to go and lift a sluice, but it had to go from one region to another delaying the top up by 24 hours, this is of course according to the volunteer.
The hire boat were a family of four, Mum and Dad considering getting a boat when they retire, the teenage kids very helpful and chatty, but looking forward to a hot chocolate between locks.
I opted to walk on ahead, even though the pound up to Stenson Lock is 3 miles long. Yesterday I was questioned by several people about why I wasn’t getting on the boat and being made to walk! So as I walked I considered what I should get printed on a t-shirt. In the end I opted for ‘I’m walking my imaginary dog’. Maybe that will stop people being astounded at me walking so much.
I noted a couple of moorings that we’d thought might not be so Tilly friendly, which actually she would love, the railway quite a distance away from the canal and the road stopping sooner than I thought it would. We’ll see what she thinks when we’re on our way back.
Raggley Boat stop was full, this was roughly where we should have moored last night, just as well we’d not carried on. A little wooden sign hung on a tree ‘Bumpy Farm’, here chickens scratched the ground and floppy eared goats bleated through the hedge to me.
Just after I’d reached half way boats started to come towards me, a lady walking the towpath with a windlass in hand. She’d realised that maybe she’d made a mistake in walking, even more when I told her she’d not quite got half way and the walk would be 3 miles!
Two boats were just entering the lock, Oleanna and the hire boat weren’t too far behind me as the depth of water isn’t too bad. The two boats rose in the lock and were replaced by two more coming down, a constant stream of boats from both directions. I chatted to a chap from a boat going down, he’d been an architect but drawing gave him back ache, so he’d retired from it aged 40 and got into vintage cars, writing books about them. As his wife brought their boat into the lock I was suddenly getting déjà vu. Their powder blue electric narrowboat NB Falcon was familiar from somewhere, I think I’ve talked to this couple before, possibly on the River Nene.
Our turn next, up the deep scary lock. Stenson used to have quite restrained ground paddles which worked counter intuitively. But now they seemed to rush water into the lock, with two boats in the chamber both paddles could be lifted together, so I don’t know if it’s still counter intuitive. Boats arrived above, the next pair ready to swap with us and the hire boat. I hopped on board, my walking done for the day until later.
Now the run towards Willington. The house that is hemmed in between the canal and railway is for sale. It would be tempting apart from the railway behind it. Gradually the amount of boats moored up increased as we neared Mercia Marina. A top up of water and disposal of rubbish at the services before we carried on westwards running alongside the A38 for much of the way.
The Trent and Mersey now becomes a narrow canal at Dallow Lock. We pulled in next boat in line, one going up, one about to come down. I chatted to the crews of the boats, we all had connections to Goole and Hull, two downhill boats heading back towards base avoiding dropping levels until maybe later in the year.
Now we hoped to find a mooring. Shobnall Fields would do us, there was a gap and then space nearer the bridge where there are picnic tables. We opted for the gap, this would do us for a couple of days.
Tilly was impressed at the size of the trees, but not impressed with the lack of friendly cover and the constant stream of woofers. She opted to stay in the pram cover rather than venture further afield. I however decided to have a walk up to the station to see how far it was for tomorrow morning. 16 minutes brisk walk got me to the ticket office, that would do nicely. I chose to walk through residential streets rather than past St Paul’s and the Town Hall, I’d save that way for tomorrow.
I picked up a few things for my lunch tomorrow at Lidl along with some meatballs before returning to Oleanna to make a fish crumble. I’d totally forgotten to buy something green to accompany it, frozen peas filled the gap.
3 locks, 11.1 miles, £1,150,000, 4 goats, 6 chickens, 3 miles between locks, 2 familiar boats, 1 hot chocolate without marshmallows, 95 brisk minutes, 16 to the station.
