Keadby Visitor Moorings to West Stockwith Basin Bridge
Not the best nights sleep sadly. I was aware of all sorts, but had finally managed to drift off by the time the put put of NB Delhi and Python came past heading for the bridge, it was still cool enough for them to go through at around 6am. In fact it was still 15C mid morning as NB Puddle Duck appeared and pulled in on the off side.
Over the last few days we’ve had a chat with the Lock Keeper at Keadby. Mark moving our booking every day to the next one and saying he’d inform West Stockwith of the change due to being held up at Vazon. Today we confirmed our booking for today and then called West Stockwith to confirm with them too.
The cruisers all moved up to the bollards so they could sit out together, we nudged up to the waterpoint to top up our tank. Items were moved into the shower to have a clear well deck, then an early lunch, just as well as the Lock Keeper called saying he thought the tide would be early. There was a boat just about to come up the lock, so could we be ready for when he opened the road bridge for them.
Final checks, life jackets, charts, etc. We were ready for when the bridge opened and swapped places with the boat. The tide was on it’s way in already, the bottom gates of the lock opened at 13:55. Originally we’d been told we’d be sharing the lock with a widebeam, but they’d not shown up, maybe stuck behind a stoppage on the Aire and Calder. So we were on our own, no buddy boat out on the river until the cruisers caught us up.
With low amounts of fresh coming down the river we had to be very cautious about following the red line. A week or so ago a boat heading for Keadby Lock hadn’t crossed over the river towards the east bank and had found themselves stuck on a sand bank until the next incoming tide lifted them off.
This is the third time we’ve done the tidal Trent this year and most sights are now very familiar.
The few bridges, the old windmills now converted into houses.
The cheeky pigeons. Owston Ferry’s two pubs.
With each turn of the river the skies gradually worked themselves from being quite blue, sun cream required when we set off, to being very grey almost black. Thankfully the river seemed to be doing a good job at turning us away from the really dark clouds. I kept quiet about it, hoping it would stay dry until we were moored up for the day. Mick however had to open his big mouth! ‘It’s going to rain!’ So it did!
We were making good progress and as we rounded the bend at Gunthorpe Mick radioed ahead to West Stockwith. I think we were going to be earlier than they’d expected, so they’d get the lock ready for us. Would we like a bow line to help us into the lock? Mick was fairly sure we’d be okay without, not really understanding what help it would be. As the radio was put down we both reached for our waterproofs as the rain started to persist. I could stand with my back to it, Mick couldn’t!
When to move through the boat to the bow? I opted to wait for us to have entered the lock. The rain was now going sideways as the white house appeared beyond the lock. When was Mick going to turn us to face the flow? We’ve not approached West Stockwith from downstream before, it makes for a tighter turn in.
He started to turn as we got close to the lock. The lock is on a bend in the river so getting turned needed to happen before the bank got too close. Would he need a nudge from the bow thruster, he’d changed the fuse this morning. Round we came. Now when to start the turn into the lock. We drifted backwards. The turn in needing revs to get the stern round enough so as not to catch the upstream side of the lock mouth, not too much to end up hitting the downstream side with the bow.
One man and his boat. He brought her round without touching any side, getting a big thumbs up from the Lockie. It was now safe to go through the boat to grab a rope before they started to bring us up.
The rain was now torrential! Water running in rivers down inside waterproof sleeves. Trousers proving just how many litres of water they could soak up. Crutch straps from life jackets doing a good job of directing water to help soak into your underwear. Oleanna rose up, we thanked the lock keepers, but didn’t hang around for a chat. Instead we headed straight through the bridge and pulled in on the first bit of armco.
But where was the nappy pin? Not been used since early April at this mooring. I managed to find a chain in amongst items in the shower and succeeded in not drenching our bed as I went past it twice. The towpath was it’s own canal, three inches deep, squelchy shoes would now fill up.
Tied up we both stripped down to our t-shirt and pants, wet items hung to drip dry under the pram hood. A warm shower each and dry clothes all welcome as the sun came back out and Tilly busied herself down the bank.
I could make us some dhal, or we could head to the White Hart for some food. The later option won. I checked the blog post from nearly two years ago when we’d last eaten here. We’d had to wait quite a while to be served, but the food had been worth the wait. Today they had a table of 25 in for a 40th, we’d have to wait. Thankfully it was worth it again. We both opted for the same as we’d had last time, Fish and chips and the steak and ale pie which is most definitely home made. Very nice indeed. We opted to return back to Oleanna for our second glass of wine, well we had to celebrate finally starting to make our way southwards.
2 locks, 13.9 miles, 1 wind, 1 full water tank, 2 hours to Stockwith, 4 cruisers 30 minutes behind, 1 lovely cruise, last 20 minutes not so, 2 sodden to their pants boaters, 1 hour shore leave made the most of, 18 minutes brisk walk to the pub and back, 1 fish and chips, 1 pie and chips, 1 boat finally headed south.
