Category Archives: Architecture

Smoking Chimney. 24th August

Marston Visitor Moorings to High Bridge Aqueduct

A cuppa in bed with the newspaper, followed by the Geraghty zoom. Acorn coffee and flour, Jelly bags, underwater feeders, trench foot and not going out on a Bank Holiday Monday were topics this morning.

We were just about to push off to when a boat was heading towards us, we were wanting to return to the winding hole behind so waited for them to come past. However they were also turning, but then pulled in just beyond the narrow opening to Shobnall Marina as a boat was already tucked away in there getting topped up and emptied. As Mick brought Oleanna to the winding hole he soon aborted his manoeuvre as the boat that had seemingly seemed to be busy had now finished and was about to turn back out onto the canal. I went to chat with the other boat, yes they were heading in through the bridge for a pump out but we could wind first. I waved Mick on, he winded apologising to the anglers right by the mouth of the marina, he didn’t get a reply just a grimmace. What did they think setting up where boats are guaranteed to be turning!

Dallow Lock was neither full nor empty, I waited for Oleanna to be in sight before topping it up, it’s a quick lock to work so we were soon on our way hoping for a mooring around Bridge 29. We were in luck a space with armco a little way on, we pulled in and had an early lunch.

Whilst on the train the other day, I’d looked up what there was to do around Burton. High up on the list was a visit to Claymills Victorian Pumping Station. On further investigation we discovered that this weekend it was going to be steam! We are finally in the right place at the right time for somewhere to be open and with engines working away as they once did day in day out! Hooray!! We weren’t going to miss this.

At Bridge 29 there is a sign with directions to follow, it also says that if you can see black smoke coming from the chimney then it’s a steaming day. Sure enough there was a little plume of black smoke curling up to the sky. We crossed the busy road and headed on, the aroma from the sewage works drawing us onwards.

Back in the day, 1859, when Burton was making pints and pints of beer the River Trent was one flowing stinking river. For every pint of beer made the brewers put eight pints of used water back into the river. It stank and the river was dying. The first solution was to send all the waste water downhill to where Claymills was built. Here the sewage was left in beds so the solids would sink to the bottom, the cleaner water was then put back into the river. This however didn’t work, the river still stank.

The next idea was to pump the sewage to a farm 3 miles away at Egginton, fields in turn had a layer of sewage poured onto them, this was then ploughed in. It still stank! The next move was to add lime into the mix, this was mixed into the sewage, then the mix pumped out to the farm. The 27inch diameter pipes suffered, unsurprisingly with lime scale which had to be chipped out. Today nobody told us whether this process actually worked to stem the stench, but it must have gone someway to helping with the 20 million litres of sewage a day!

The pumping station operated with four beam engines, steam being provided by five Lancashire-type boilers. These were run on coal, but today they were trying out Bio Mass as an alternative. The pumping station is classed as a Traction Engine so it is allowed to burn coal, but should the day come when they have to stop, bio mass may well be the fuel they have to use. Today you could hear the numerous volunteers mumbling and some quite audibly complaining about the lack of psi the eco mass was giving, sadly not enough to get all four beam engines up and running, however B and D were busy pumping away.

Today you can walk into both engine houses, climb the spiral staircases and walk on the metal mesh floor looking down on those three floors below. I’m not keen on heights and after about five minutes up the top I’d had enough, the beam engines were amazing but their constant movement shuddered the floor.

Down to the rear of the engine houses between them is the Boiler House. Here several chaps sat about chatting. One fella was deep in conversation with another in overalls, should they add coal into the mix to get the pressure up? Another chap poked and prodded the boilers, topped the hoppers at the top up with more of the lumps of greenish bio mass, a hot place to work.

The pumping continued until 1971 when a new pumping treatment plant was installed next door, the Victorian buildings were left to decay. In1986 the buildings were listed and the owners Severn Trent appealed for volunteers to look after the engines, as a result the current trust was formed. During the years of decay anything brass had been stolen, various parts removed to other museums. Restoration work commenced in 1993.

By 2023, after 30 years of work all four beam engines had been restored to operational condition along with two boilers. They worked hard to bring back to the site other original steam engines, these have all now been restored and are back working on days like today.

The steam powered workshop has been restored, belts criss cross around the building providing power to all the machines. Next door is the dynamo house with its 1889 Crompton Dynamo, the oldest in-situ working dynamo set in the UK. If the bio mass had been giving them a higher psi then this building would have been shut to the public, only being able to peer in from behind a gate. But there was no danger of falling on live things today. Alongside the Crompton Dynamo with all its posh brass is a self built dynamo which was made from whatever the engineers could get their hands on. If you worked at the pumping Station and lived in site, you got free electricity.

Outside people had brought other items of interest. Numerous Austin cars, a Renault, a fire engine from Aldermaston, vintage varieties of apples, a cuddly woofer. Numerous people walked the site in overalls, from the age of nine to eighty something. Pulling levers, oil and grease ingrained everything except the apples and the polish on the cars. No fancy paintwork on the engines, just hard sweaty oily red, pumping pumping away, well apart from Engine A that needed more psi. What an interesting place and well worth visiting on a steam day if you can catch one of the seven weekends a year.

Back at Oleanna we wanted to move on away from the busy road, some shore leave required by Tilly today. Only a mile got us away, only just, from the A38 and the railway tracks, an hour and a quarter was awarded to the second mate. I set about sussing out how much less time we’d need the oven on to cook a spatchcocked chicken. The temperature outside had been creeping up most of the day, but our tummies were requesting roast chicken. I cut the backbone from the chicken, leant on the breast bone and flattened it. Pulled out the roasting tin that normally only gets used for roasting duck with it’s lift out rack, hopefully this would reduce the oven time by at least half an hour.

The chicken turned out very juicy, took an hour to cook, just a slight adjustment to get the other veg browned and job done, a Sunday roast without us getting too roasted ourselves. What a good Sunday.

1 lock, 3.7 miles, 1 wind, 1 smoking chimney, £10, £9 OAP, 4 beam engines, numerous other engines,1 Renault, 1 woofer, 361 volunteers, 8 varieties apple, 20 not 60, A not wanting anything of it, 1 flattened chicken, 2 beers, 1 good Sunday.

https://what3words.com/strut.scavenger.blissful

The Only Paper In Town. 23rd August

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Shobnall Fields to Marston Visitor Moorings

I could hear an engine, Could this be him? I stopped eating my cereal and stuck my head out of the hatch. It was Brian on NB That’s It and he was going to pull in for a cuppa. We first came across NB That’s It at Sykehouse Lock a few years ago, then shared Johnson’s Hillock Locks and the Wigan flight with them a few years ago. They moor at Strawberry Island in Doncaster and were one of the leading boats of the Strawberry Fools flotilla that set off the Fund Britain’s Waterways Campaign Cruises this year, which we joined to go through Gainsborough on 1st April. Since then Brian and Jo have cruised down to London, honked their horns outside the Houses of Parliament, reached Lechlade, up to Torksey on to Boston, crossed the Wash, cruised to Bedford, waited for locks on the River Nene to be mended and now Brian is heading back to Doncaster single handing. Until yesterday he’d single handed his way from Peterborough to the bottom of Glascote Locks in 7 days to beat the stoppages, several flights of locks will be locked shut at the end of Monday, remaining that way until we have seen some significant rainfall over several weeks.

We’d spotted that our paths would cross, so had he, messages had been exchanged yesterday about returning our Middle Level windlass and key. This morning he’d already pulled into Shobnall Marina to top up with diesel, 200 litres (85p)! There was time for a catch up over a coffee, he can slow down now that he’s out of the danger zone. After an hour of catching up he set off again, todays mission would be to battle with striking trains!

***I’ve been up all these big trees now!***

Yesterday when I returned from Dawlish I’d spotted a boat we were looking out for, NB Jemima-D, Marc and Fabienne had spotted Oleanna and said hello to Mick, he’d just assumed they read the blog so hadn’t twigged that they were also new members of Cutweb an internet based Cruising Club that we have joined this year. I could see someone was outside, an ideal opportunity to go and say hello to them.

NB Jemima-D is a shareboat, or co-operative boat, currently with ten owners, but hoping to be back up to twelve owners soon. Marc volunteers at Harecastle Tunnel and they are watching the water levels dropping at that end of the Trent and Mersey. Boats are starting to sit on the bottom in Stoke. They were glad to still be able to cruise, but their boat won’t be returning to base for sometime. Maybe they’d get chance to do some of the Tidal Trent. It was very good to meet you and maybe our bows will cross again in the coming weeks.

Our two days on the mooring were up. What to do now? We opted to move up to just past Shobnall Marina onto another 2 day mooring. From here we can explore Burton, Tilly hopefully would have some friendly cover to explore too rather than having to climb the giant trees on the playing fields, I’ve got quite good at that! Great views from up there.

The moorings were empty, so we pulled up at the far end. A quick scout round, a busyish road through the trees and friendly cover, hopefully there’d be enough to keep Tilly occupied and away from the road. After lunch we walked in to town to go shopping for the next few days.

The Bass Pumping Station was used to pump water up from a well to be used in various ways in the brewing of Bass beer. Apparently there are another six such buildings around the town. Alongside the building is a now rusted away holding tank, it doesn’t look like it’s used anymore, but the water in Burton gave the beer a distinctive flavour.

We walked down to the Town Hall. Originally the Town Hall had been in the market square but by 1883 the building was deemed as unserviceable and demolished, the council taking to having meetings in a back room of the nearby Angel public house. In 1891 Lord Burton offered the use of St Paul’s Institute and Liberal Club for the council offices. 1894 saw an extension built, paid for by Lord Burton, providing more office spaces and a new council chamber. As the town grew the town hall needed to follow suit, so in 1939 a new four story Art Deco building was added again to the east, opening shortly before WW2 started. More info can be found here Link

Outside is a square, a statue of Lord Burton, now slightly hidden in amongst the trees. Next door is St Paul’s church which opened it’s doors in 1874 and was designed by James M Teale and Edmund Beckett Denison. It was paid for by Michael Thomas Bass, the church and vicarage costing £50,000 at the time.

We managed to find a light switch to have a look around. The organ in the south transept is now mostly empty, but it doesn’t half show off its looks, designed by GF Bodley in 1894.

Large tiles sit on pews in the north transept, these depict the life of St Paul and used to be part of the floor of the chancel. Deep stone carvings in the lady chapel mention Alexander Michael Bass who died aged 6. One window stands out from the others as it’s in memory of Phillip Lloyd Stockley, who was in a machine gun corps and died at Ypres, his father was vicar of the church.

This was to be the first weekend we’d be able to purchase a Saturday newspaper, sadly Lidl didn’t have a copy. We tried the Post Office which had a sign outside suggesting it sold papers, but it didn’t. I opted to cross the railway lines and head into the town centre to see if I had more luck there. Nothing in Sainsburys, so a longer walk was needed. This did mean I got to see quite a few breweries, the offices of Waterways World, the old and new fire stations and some yarn bombed bollards.

There is a trail of Burton Yarn Trent bollards that you can follow, I only found two of them but there are fourteen in all and their website has a pattern you can follow to knit your own cover should you want to.

I tried two newsagents and finally I found possibly the only copy of our chosen newspaper in Burton. When I got it back to the boat it turned out to have August’s edition of Harpers tucked inside, an American magazine priced at £8.99! Had someone hidden this there to pick up later for free?! Neither of us have found anything that interesting in it, but we are very pleased to have our first Saturday newspaper for what feels like months, there’ll be something to read in bed over the next couple of mornings, plus puzzles!

0 locks, 0.5 miles, 1 Fool on his way home, 2 Cutwebs, 2 BIG trees climbed, 2 outsides, 1 cat a bit too close to the road, 1 cat grounded, 1 newspaper hunt, 49 brisk minutes walking, 1 USA magazine, 10 chicken sausages in a tray bake, 1 town hall, 1 church, 1 plan for the next few days.

https://what3words.com/raced.duke.honey

Is Autumn Here Already? 21st August

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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.

**A surprising property.** Click photo for details

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.

**More interesting than the residential streets**

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.

https://what3words.com/test.stand.draw

Straight Out Of An Agatha Christie Novel. 12th August

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club to Log Rural Mooring

There was the hire car to return this morning, a Sainsburys delivery to arrive, water to fill up and the yellow water to empty. Mick headed off to Worksop with the car, he thought he’d topped it up, but according to the computer and Enterprise it needed another 2 litres of petrol! Soon sorted and he got a lift back to the boat club where I was waiting for our shopping. We swapped over and I headed back to fill with water then stow our shopping.

**Thank you RWBC for our lovely stay with you**

Phil this weeks warden arrived a bit after 11 to read the electric meter for us, we now needed to go down and pay at the club house along with using the elsan for the yellow water. All checked out and our dues paid. Thank you to the boat club for a very friendly stay. Having electric was great, over the 8 days we’ve stayed with them we used a little over £8 and did quite a few wash loads and used the immersion heater and topped our bully boy batteries right up.

Our aimed for mooring was quite a distance away so I hitched a ride. We’d already gone a few miles when I decided on my walking plan, I’d hop off at Wiseton and walk on from there, we’d have lunch at Drakeholes then carry on. Mick checked that he’d given me the key of power after using the elsan. No he hadn’t. Maybe he’d left it at the bow when stowing the yellow water container. No he hadn’t. I checked everywhere inside, doing a girl look rather than a boy look. No. A phone call back to Phil at the boat club, Mick thought it might be on the window cil in the service block. Phil rang back, it was there, he’d happily drop it off with us at Wiseton as he had a job to do using his car. What a star, that saved either my legs walking or Mick cycling back for it. It only took Phil five minutes to catch us up and drop off the key.

I walked into Wiseton whilst Mick carried on along the canal. Blimey I’d just walked into an Agatha Christie Novel. Straight ahead was Woodbine Cottage built 1830, with it’s white picket fence, lead windows and ivy covered frontage. I turned left hoping to find a track which would lead back to the canal further on, only to stumble on a For Sale sign.

**You’d need a sit on lawnmower for that lawn**

Cedar Cottage built around 1860. What a lawn and flower beds. Yours for £515,000 quite a period piece.

Further on were big wrought iron gates, no view of the hall. A hunt round on the internet suggests a new hall was built in 1771 for Jonathon Acklam. This was extended in 1787 by William Lindley of Doncaster. During WW2 the house became badly dilapidated and ended up being demolished in 1960. In it’s place a Neo-Georgian house was built for Major General Robert Laycock in 1962 on his return from the governorship of Malta. It stayed in the Laycock family until 1992 when it was sold to a colliery owner Richard Budge who then sold it in 2012. More info on the hall can be found here.

Opposite the gates is an extensive stables block built 1899. Sadly private signs are everywhere so the track I’d hoped to walk was out of bounds. But every cloud has a silver lining as it meant I got to walk past more wonderful houses.

I stopped to take a look at the octagonal chimney stacks. I said hello to a fellow sat outside, he told me that the houses used to be the Laundry for the Hall and the large chimneys were needed for the big fires under the coppers used to boil up the washing. I congratulated him for having such a wonderful house and chimney.

Back onto the canal I soon caught up with Oleanna going under Lady’s Bridge where I’d hoped to walk to from the village. The 2 day moorings were full at Drakeholes so we pulled in at the end to have lunch in the shade, it was starting to get really quite warm out there.

Now to walk the last stretch of the canal that I’d missed on the way up, over the top of Drakeholes Tunnel. I paused to say goodbye to the people on NB Misfit from the boat club then carried on up the grassy bank. I thought that the tunnel carried on under the road, which gave me a chance to look at The Duck which recently closed. Opposite behind fencing are the gate houses for Wiseton Hall (early 19th C) which look like they are undergoing renovation. I soon noticed my mistake and back tracked to walk along a gravel track leading to the other side of the tunnel.

I reached the locks before Oleanna and had time to set them, it did take a while before I could open the top gates as below the water was boiling out from under the gates. At Shaw Lock I spotted a stall at the nearby farm house, so once Oleanna was down I went to have a look. A lot of homemade chutneys and sauces for sale along with some veg. I suspect the owners have had enough marrows as these were free! Having just stocked up on veg I didn’t feel the need to help them out.

Not much further the Log Rural Mooring came into view, no boats moored so we could choose the shadiest section. Chairs were put outside in the shade and Tilly was given a couple of hours of towpath time.

A barbeque was on the cards this evening. Salmon with ginger and lemongrass, potato salad and sweetcorn. All slowly cooked over the coals. At one point it started to rain, Mick brought a brolli out, but it really wasn’t going to spoil anything and soon everything had dried up in time for us to eat. A perfect mooring for a hot afternoon, shame we don’t think we’ll find one for tomorrow.

2 locks, 6.4 miles, 1 tunnel, 1 full water tank, 4 boxes wine, £8.37 electric, 1 left key of power (which do have our phone number on them!), 1 hero Phil, 1 Agatha Christie village, 5 moving boats! 84 brisk minutes, 29C, 2 rain showers, 2 salmon steaks, 2 cobs, 1 bowl potato salad, 4 glasses wine, 2.5 hours after cat curfew permitted shore leave.

https://what3words.com/dating.juggle.guests

Assisted. 4th August

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The Lock Keeper to mile marker 23

Alarm set early so we could move off the lock landing. A cuppa made to have whilst we made ready, this included adding some more water to the pound as we’d woken up on a list. The boat in front were also awake and kept looking at the level but not doing anything about it. However it was soon rectified, the advantage of being on a short pound. We left them to it and started to make our way down into Worksop, they had plans on getting through the assisted passage as well today, there was plenty of time.

Worksop was just waking up, not many people on the towpath as I walked ahead to fill the locks. The jigsaw is still to be started at Worksop Town Lock, you’d have to be careful picking the pieces up with the amount of broken glass around this morning. A cruiser sat bobbing about below as the lock emptied. I walked on ahead wanting to have a closer look at some fine buildings just set away from the canal.

A hunt around on old maps suggests this was stables, the fire station and electricity works. The buildings have been restored and look grand. There’s also quite a few posh cars parked outside.

Further along the towpath people fished, a chap slept on the tarmac, his belongings along side him. Posh cars and homelessness right alongside each other.

Above Kilton Top Lock there was a boat moored on the lock landing, they’d come out from Shireoaks yesterday morning and headed straight here. We pulled up just as it started to rain so were indoors sheltering before things got too wet. Time for a leisurely breakfast before the lock keepers arrived. A film crew were busy on the offside moorings, possibly for the next series of Narrow Escapes.

The skies cleared up a touch a little before 11 so we helped the boat in front to fill the lock just as Richard from CRT arrived. There would be one boat coming towards us and I informed him of another boat that had said they’d be coming down today, but there was still no sign of them. The level below was a touch low but hopefully with a couple of locks full of water it would improve. It was slow going but both boats got to Kilton Low Lock.

I think the boat coming up was NB Mr Toad and as he passed Oleanna he recognised us, he’d seen us somewhere miles away maybe last year. It was our turn to go down, the Lock Keeper not the most positive of chaps and really not wanting to hang around to wait for another boat. I wonder if they turned up soon after we left or towards the end of the assisted passage window at 1pm.

I walked on ahead, where should we moor up. All the time the wind was building and a constant drizzle hung in the air. I paused at the first 2 day mooring and called back to Mick, it would be okay there but we opted to carry on.

**The three bridges of the Chesterfield**

By the time I’d walked to Rayton Farm Bridge I’d caught up with the boat ahead, they’d paused to clear the prop. At Osberton Top Turnover Bridge I crossed the canal, but hung back, not wanting to draw attention to where we were wanting to moor. I followed on behind at an inconspicuous distance reaching the 23 mile marker, walked a little distance further on then stood and waited for Oleanna to arrive.

Moored up in time for lunch and five, yes five hours of shore leave for Tilly. We didn’t think she’d be too keen as it was raining, at times exceedingly heavy and Floris’s winds starting to really buffet the trees ahead of us.

We pottered away the afternoon. In one dry spell Mick cleared the weedhatch of weed, I caught up on the blog and Tilly … well she was busy being a thug somewhere. A few hours later the following boat came past, maybe they’d pulled in after the locks and waited for the rain to stop, the wind wasn’t giving up anytime soon!

5 locks, 3.5 miles, 7am start, 1 list, 2 in the queue, 1 damp walk, 5 hours shore leave, 1 happy cat, 1 exceedingly windy day, pair 103 re-started much better, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

https://what3words.com/beads.serves.smirking

Sheila And Mr Straw. 31st July

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Mile marker 23ish to Morse Lock 49 to Shireoaks visitor mooring

Sorry Tilly, no shore leave this morning we needed to get moving. We pushed of at 9:30 an overcast with patches of sun morning, we needed to cruise a mile and a half to Worksop Manton Lock 52 arriving at 11am to meet with CRT Lock Keepers, the next two locks are assisted passage only on Mondays and Thursdays 11 to 1. The Chesterfield being shallow meant we wanted to have more than enough time to reach the lock.

Rounding the first bend I remembered the next lock, metal boxes over the paddle gear that are really awkward to open and lock, at least there’d be someone there to help with them. When we arrived a boat was moored on the lock landing above. How had that got there? Had they got locked in somehow on Monday?

We tied up and walked up to chat. It was NB Robin Hood a hire boat from West Stockwith. They’d arrived below the lock yesterday, not knowing it would be locked. One of the crew had walked along the gunnel to reach somewhere dry to step off. As she’d stepped down (quite a height) onto the landing her foot slipped off the stone edging down the back of it into a big hole. Paramedics were called, they needed to get the lady closer to a road for access to an ambulance, so CRT came out unlocked the lock so they could head up to the next lock. They’d winded and returned when the crew were back on board with a badly sprained ankle. It was their first time on a narrowboat and had been loving it, thankfully it hasn’t put them off another boating holiday.

Mike, CRT Lock Keeper from West Stockwith arrived pulling what looked like a rug doctor behind him, it turned out to be a bin full of ash to ash up the lock once we were through. Yesterday he’d been called out to open the lock for the hire boat and had dropped the padlock into the lock, so this lock wasn’t actually locked. We worked the hire boat down as the lock was in their favour, then it was our turn. It turns out that Mike lives next door to Lesley and Clive from NB Christopher B whom we travelled with from West Stockwith to Thorne a couple of years ago. Lesley had an accident at the lift bridge before Thorne which necessitated her being in hospital for quite some time and she was unable to walk for six months. It was good to hear she is now up on her feet again.

Ahead another boat was coming from Worksop. A familiar boat green on one side red the other, had we met them on the River Soar or somewhere before? Not sure. They had been to the very top of the Chesterfield and found some gates to be heavy, last night they’d moored at The Lock Keeper on the other side of the town.

At Bracebridge Lock another Lock Keeper was waiting for us, time to chat as Mick brought Oleanna along. Did Worksop still deserve it’s bad press? We were hoping to moor along the next stretch for a few hours. The Lock Keeper was careful in how he phrased things. This next pound was their worst on the Chesterfield, they’ve had homeless people camping out, but if we moored along the middle stretch near where cars are parked? We’d see what we thought of it.

A length of armco, possible, we’d rather be on chains than spikes even though there was very unlikely to be any passing traffic on the canal. We carried on. A group of young teenagers fishing below the next lock, the bollards looked inviting but we just had that feeling that we should carry on. The kids joked as kids do as I walked up to the lock that sits part way under the road bridge, a jigsaw puzzle scattered over the steps if one fancied a go whilst waiting for the lock to fill or empty, although not having the box meant I had no clue as to what the picture would be.

The gates opened fine, but when it came to close them there was an obstruction, I really hoped it wasn’t the dead hedgehog I’d seen floating in the lock. We opened and closed the gate, Mick prodded about with the boat hook and eventually found a plastic pot of some sort. Obstruction gone, we were on our way again.

**A rather fine building, wish we’d had more time to look around**

The next stretch towards Morse Lock felt better, would there be enough depth for us to moor up somewhere? Mick suggested actually pulling up on the mooring bollards, after all we’d been told by the lock keepers that we were the only boat up this way, unless someone came out from Shireoaks Marina. We pulled in and made sure we were on the very last bollards, plenty of room for another boat in front.

After lunch we made sure the boat was secure and everything out of view, even with the curtains closed you just don’t know how far Tilly pushes them to have a nosy out! We walked round Sandhill Lake then up through housing estates that have seen better days. Past the station, a very fine affair. Then up Blyth Road and onto Blyth Grove with ten minutes spare before our booking at Mr Straw’s House a National Trust property.

5 and 7 Blyth Grove, Edwardian semi detached houses, are not your average National Trust property, as the people at reception are glad to tell you. 7 was the home of William and Florence Straw, who moved in in 1923, they raised their two sons William Jnr and Walter there. The house had electric lighting to the first two floors and an inside toilet and plumbing, all mod cons of the day. After their deaths William and Walter kept the house just as it had been in their parents days the 1920’s. For over 60 years the occupants threw very little away and chose to live without many modern comforts, not even a radio! When William passed away in 1990 he left the contents of the house to the National Trust, everything catalogued, expecting it to go into a museum. The National Trust sent in an assessor to check over the collection, a normal procedure so that anything of great value can be taken away for safe keeping. The accessor reported back that there was nothing of great value in the collection, however the collection itself was priceless! The National Trust then bought the two houses so the collection could stay, 7 having been the residence of the family, 5 had been rented out.

7 is just how it had been left, things neatly ordered everywhere. 5 is now an added display area, reception and a tea room. The whole place is a time capsule from the 1920’s into the 90’s and well worth a visit, especially if you get chance to talk to Sheila who grew up knowing William and Walter, more commonly known as Tweddle Dee and Tweddle Dum by the local children. There is a lot more to tell of the green grocer who’d bought the house and his offspring and Sheila could keep on telling you stories for years to come.

From the Egyptian carpet up the stairs, the two upright pianos, the eleven chairs in the front room, the Mackintosh Quality Street tins, the newspapers wrapped up to protect their edges sorted into subjects, the green house full of cacti, the wallpaper that has been stained by the plaster, it is a wonderful place. A shame the rooms are so small so you feel you have to move on to let others get a chance, I think I could have been there all day.

They run discovery days in the house where they open drawers and cupboards to show more of the 33,000 items it holds. There are also walks around Worksop showing the shops that grocer and seed merchant William Straw ran, and the butchers shop opposite which was run by Florence’s father. I’d be very tempted to go on one of these if we happen to be in the area another time.

Back at Oleanna all was good, but we didn’t want to stay on the lock landing for the night. More locks to keep us busy. Up Morse Lock I then walked ahead leaving Mick to single hand the next lock as I popped to Sainsburys to stock up on bananas and milk, plus some sad git meatballs that were reduced in price in front of my eyes. I arrived back at the boat just as the top gate was about to be opened.

On upwards the next narrow locks, the sign says to lift your fenders, you shouldn’t have them down anyway! The last three locks are all close together so I could set ahead leaving Mick to close up behind, a good sign was all the by washes were flowing. At the middle lock a dog walker stopped to say that the pound above was too high! The bottom gate had been open for the last three days and the level above it was too high. I set him straight saying that actually it was at a perfect height, any higher and the extra would be flowing over the bywash, this was the only one of our trip so far that hadn’t.

How far were we going today? This would be our last lock for today, up the remainder tomorrow. I was then told that there were 42 locks tomorrow. Yes we were at lock 42, but the locks are numbered from Chesterfield and includes those on the detached section of the canal along with those that don’t exist anymore. The subject then turned to funding, licence fees, when he started on immigrants I knew it was time for this canal expert to keep walking! Thankfully he did.

Above the locks we pulled in, too late for Tilly shore leave. Time to put those meatballs on to cook, have a shower and get sat down to watch the final episode of The Handmaids Tale. Not as good as the previous two episodes but a good way to round off the series.

11 locks, 6.4 miles, 1 sprained ankle, 1 next door neighbour, 2 serious days boating ahead of the hire boat, 2 boaters not so sure, 5 maybe 6 missing pieces, 0 picture, 2 for Mr Straw’s house, 0 draining board, 1 bag of National Trust apples, 85 minutes brisk walking, 1 pint milk, 8 bananas, 1 big banner, 2 pooped boaters, 1 very awake Tilly!

https://what3words.com/cave.long.credit

Phoebe Anna Traquair. 27th July

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club

Cricket, the last Tour on free TV, end of the world haircuts, unicorn/uniform, and Alasdair’s under croft were this mornings subjects. Everyone was present and the screen was rather full as Mick is still in Scarborough ready to do a turn around.

Dave had mentioned that there were some murals in the church his wife said were worth looking at and that there was a nice walk up to that woody bit on the hill, so today after the Geraghty zoom I set off to see if she was right.

There are two pubs in the village of Clayworth, The Brewers Arms and The Blacksmiths. The former is a homely pub with generous portions, the latter a gastro pub where you can get a Chateaubriand for two at £85, certainly the aromas in the village smelt good!

St Peter’s Church dates from the 12th C, added to in the 13th 14th and 15th Centuries and underwent a serious renovation in the 1870s. A mesh door covers the thick oak door, aimed to stop birds from getting trapped inside the church, they were doing a good job of trying when I came to leave, swooping in.

It was dark inside, maybe I could turn some lights on. A notice said where to turn the chancel lights on, I just needed to find the card machine to then find the switches. Job done I could see more especially in the chancel.

Phoebe Anna Traquair was an Irish born artist who married a Scottish Palaeontologist and moved to Edinburgh were she achieved international recognition for her role in the Arts and Crafts movement. She was an illustrator, painter and embroiderer. Here in St Peter’s is one of her two English murals.

Commissioned by Lady D’Arcy Godolhin Osborne to commemorate the safe return of her son Captain Joseph Laycock from the second Boer War. The paintings cover the chancel walls, high up over arches and around the east window, gold glints around faces. On the northern side angels trumpet as the three kings hand over their gifts to Jesus and Mary. A lady looks on could this be Lady D’Arcy? She stands in front of what looks like a viaduct painted into the background.

On the southern side is a depiction of the last supper. More faces stand out from the 1900 style, are these more portraits of locals or members of the family? Very much of their time, finished in 1905. In 1996 the murals were restored to their original splendour by Elizabeth Hirst, sadly now they seem to be deteriorating a touch.

The paintings are very worth visiting, Dave’s wife was right.

I now chose to walk up the road alongside the church passing the cemetery and a big house where classical music filled the air. The road turned into a footpath, I was glad of my jeans today as nettles and thistles lined the edges. I joined paths between high hedges, then cut across a field ripe for harvest, today’s path far easier to see than the one a few days ago.

Skirting round fields the views stretched away into the distance, if only the sun was shining. I passed the wood and started to make my way down hill. A field of white flowering Buckwheat and purple Fiddleneck. Oleanna hid behind a farm house below, other boats tagged on to the end of the moorings visible. Dave’s wife was also right about the walk. I wonder if she’s any more suggestions for tomorrow?

Back at Oleanna I got the big vacuum cleaner out, being plugged in I could work my way through the boat which in recent times has become a little unkempt. One more step to being a clean boat again.

Over in Scarborough Mick had waved goodbye to two lodgers this morning. Initially they had scored a 6 maybe 7. But they were soon demoted to a 5 when a roasting tin was found unwashed along with the juicer! One side of the house was sorted ready for a new lodger to move in mid afternoon.

0 locks, 0 miles, 0 buses they don’t run on Sundays, 5 hours shore leave, 5! plus reminders about rent, 1 muralled church, 1 wood on a hill, 75 minutes brisk walking, 1 boat hoovered top to bottom, 1 busy washing line in Scarborough.

Fish Finger Nerds. 25th July

Retford and Worksop Boat Club

Mick was up early, early enough to catch the 07:21 bus from the village into Retford, then onto a train to Doncaster, swapping trains (to save a few pounds), then on to York. The moorings in York looked busy as his train headed on to Scarborough. A bus to the hospital for an appointment, he was early which didn’t mean he got seen any sooner. Then he opted for an afternoon at the cricket, Yorkshire were playing Surrey at North Marine Road. Mick is a life member of Scarborough Cricket Club, not that he often gets chance to go.

Back on the boat I got ready to head out for the morning. There aren’t so many buses to and from Retford, would there be enough to keep me occupied in the town until my return?

A good wander around the numerous charity shops. A hunt for a new collapsible bucket and possibly a little bowl proved fruitless. A couple of years ago collapsible buckets were everywhere, but none to be seen today, maybe it’s because when they fail they split big time!

A couple of murals, I suspect painted by the same artist, one about the sheep markets that used to be held until 1980 and the other about narrowboats, not that you could tell as there’s a great big motor home in front of it!

In the market square there was bric-a-brac for sale along with antiques and three very shiny Rovers on display. I found the mileage sign to London and York then walked round some of the back streets.

The Majestic Theatre is really rather lovely, from the outside. It’s façade screams out that it was built in 1927. It has enjoyed boom times and bad times, managing to escape demolition, been divided up into two cinema screens. In 1993 it was bought by locals and has been restored back to its former glory.

The Wesley Chapel is huge. John Wesley visited Retford in 1781, after which the first chapel was built by John Mackfarland with his own money. This proved to be too small and was replaced eight years later with a bigger building. In 1822 a Georgian chapel was built on a different site, then some 60 years later the present chapel was erected in it’s Victorian Gothic splendour able to seat 900. Sadly it wasn’t open today to have a look round.

An early lunch. I had somewhere in mind that I’d spotted on the map on Bridgegate. Table Top Cafe aka The Leaky Teacup a gluten free cafe with a difference. Thankfully I was aware of the sort of place it was, it’s not just a cafe!

**Only a quarter of the board games on offer**

The building is wonderful, built in 1900 and has several floors which house numerous rooms where board games and dungeons and dragons get played. The release of a new game would have the building filled with 30 enthusiastic nerds later today. But at midday there were only a couple of other people about. I ordered my fish finger butty, a tradition when in the house on a Friday, with some chips and a cuppa which came on legs!

**The butty was good, chips maybe not so**

I was given a guided tour and shown the room where it was likely to be the coolest. Here I sat accompanied by a wall of board games, another of spell books, I think I counted nine different Monopoly sets. There was a long wait for my food, the oven hadn’t been on so far today so it took some time to warm up, but so long as I didn’t miss my bus back I was content. I suspect the menu is tailored for those playing board games, pizza, sandwiches, cake were the offerings.

**Retford Town Lock the first narrow lock on the canal**

Now I had to brisk walk back into town for the bus and do some shopping on the way. A pork steak from the butchers and some veg from the stall outside, job done and I was on a bus on my way back to Oleanna.

Time to do a touch of cleaning and tidying onboard. I had thought I’d give Oleanna a quick clean and it would take an afternoon, but I suspect it’ll take longer. The galley tops and stove top got a good cleaning, Bar Keepers Friend used to get the edges of the work top clean, I don’t quite know how they get so grey, but they do. Since March we’ve had bay leaves drying, a gift from Frank. Today was the day they were finally going into the big jam jar for storage. I don’t remember the last time I bought bay leaves, Frank’s tree is very large and every now and then he turns up with a whole branch from it!

Some blackberries were picked to go with cereal for breakfast and a frittata cooked, using up bits and bobs in the fridge. By the time I’d eaten I didn’t have the energy to head to the boat club bar for a drink, instead I chatted to Mick on Teams and then settled down with a glass of wine in front of the TV and got on with the next pair of socks whilst watching a series I’d started when Mick was in Scarborough before.

0 locks, 0 miles, 7 buses, 3 trains, 0 bucket, 2 murals, 1 pretty theatre, 4 fish fingers, 48 hours soak test for Mick, 1 afternoon of cricket, 0 lodgers met yet, 1 mad dash for the 2 hourly bus, 60 minutes brisk walking, 1 clean galley, 4 hours shore leave, 0.3 of a jar of bay leaves.

A Different Side To Thorne. 16th July

Thorne Visitor Moorings

Should we visit the Trolley Bus Museum? Should we visit the South Yorkshire Aircraft Museum? Both would be a couple of bus rides to get there. Instead we pottered the day away, it’s odd not working every day.

Mick headed out to do some shopping. He’s discovered that our new connector for the yellow water tank isn’t magnetic, neither is the jubilee clip on it. So armed with a magnet he walked up to Bargain Land to see what he could purchase that was magnetic that could be wrapped round the connector. We’ve only once dropped the old one in the canal, but without it we’d need to hand pump our tank empty and then get a new one made, so it’s best we can retrieve it should the need arise.

Jubilee clips and wire were bought along with some big hooks (useful for hanging things on) and adaptors for the bicycle pump so that the inflated fenders can be pumped up.

I packed up the amended bits of model to send off to Gemma the Production Manager, but then realised that I was more than likely to be with her when she delivers them to the set builders, so it doesn’t seem worth the risk of the postal service. I knitted and then headed out for a walk.

A different side of Thorne today. Up beyond the shops towards Peel Hill. St Nicholas church drew me in, but the gates were very firmly locked by the front door. But as I leaned through them to take a photo of the door a chap behind me said, ‘There’s someone else wanting to go in’. This turned out to be a parishioner and the vicar who I later found out was called Tim, he was about to open up and yes I could have a look inside.

The church sits on a sandy ridge which in Saxon times was an island surrounded by water and marshland. The original church was only a chapel of ease, funerals had to take place in Hatfield. In the 1320’s a funeral was crossing the mere to Hatfield when a storm blew up, the boats were wrecked and dozens of mourners were drowned. This led to some rebuilding of the church and it was made into a Parish church.

The oldest part of the church is the chancel dating back to the 6th Century. The rood screen is striking with its figures on the top, made of cast iron by a local miner.

My eye was immediately caught by one of the windows, it had to be by a Pre-Raphaelite artist, but which one? As I stood and studied it, Tim handed me a couple of pamphlets about the church, sadly I didn’t spot there was another regarding the stained glass windows at the time. But researching when back on the boat I discovered it was designed by Sir Henry Holiday a Victorian Painter who was greatly influenced by the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. In 1861 he accepted the position of stained glass window designer for Powell’s Glass Works taking over from Burne- Jones, during his time there he fulfilled over 300 commissions most of which are in the USA. After 30 years he left to set up his own business in Hampstead.

I now walked across the road to look at Peel Hill. Only the Motte still stands with the usual worn tracks from the top where people have run up and down it. At first I couldn’t find a way in, entrances at the far ends of the area. In the 12th Century the castle was used as a hunting lodge and the tower was still standing in the 16th Century. By the 1820’s the foundations of the motte top were partly destroyed by its then owner. More information can be found here LINK

Next a windmill pulled me off my planned route. No sails and some boarded up windows, quite an unloved sight really, but quite atmospheric. I now wound my way through a housing estate, all the houses semi-detached, the fronts boasting red brick but 18 inches to the back cheaper bricks have been used. The houses stretched on for ages.

Across towards the railway line. Quite a few houses were surrounded by railings, some totally filled in, keeping the view or viewers out. I’d spotted a path parallel to the railway that I wanted to take, but it seemed to be below the track I was on and to keep going with purpose felt like a sensible move.

I crossed the railway line, straight and clear in both directions, then joined a fast moving road alongside the M18. I had gone from the ancient part of Thorne, through possibly the dodgy part of town, managing not to score from the blacked out windowed car, to the motorway and now distribution centre for BMW and Mini!

Back at Oleanna I finished putting together a quinoa crust quiche with turkey steak, green beans, a naughty bit of bacon and feta cheese. Very yummy and smaller portions today means we’ll be enjoying it for another couple of meals.

Sadly todays rendezvous with Della was called off late afternoon, so it looks like we won’t get to meet this time, hopefully next time we pass through Thorne things will align better.

0 locks, 0 miles, 0hh please move the outside! 1 sock finished, just need to redo the first one to match, 1 friendly vicar, 1 inaccessible motte, 1 unloved windmill, 0 skunk, 1 walk with purpose, 1 very tasty quiche.

Saying Goodbyes. 1st July

New Walk to Naburn Visitor Mooring

Last night shortly before we headed for bed we could hear music heading our way. Was this Orchid returning? He’d been down earlier yesterday but then had headed back up stream. No this was the other boat, the large cruiser, lights flashing, music expanding and contracting the cabin sides, but no flames from the fire pit on it’s bow tonight. They headed down stream winded, then came back a couple of times. Maybe they think blasting out their music is alright whilst on the move!

This morning the temperature had dropped, our duvet that’s been tucked up at the bottom of the bed for days, had found it’s way back up the bed to cover us. Would today be a long trousers kind of day?

After breakfast I headed off for a walk. See if I could see which poor souls had had to cope with blaring music but also to say my Goodbyes to my home city.

Down to Millennium Bridge, across the river, through Rowntrees Park. The park was York’s first Municipal park gifted to the city in 1921. I find it interesting that Rowntrees park is so close to the old Terry’s factory, Rowntrees being on the other side of the city. I think I’ve only ever been in the park a couple of times so it was nice to see the cafe, the almost empty lake and sculptures.

Onto Bishopthorpe Road, more commonly known now as Bishy Road. The junk shops have gone, now cafes, restaurants and some nice looking shops attract many people. I stopped to buy some eggs then carried on along Nunnery Lane, passing what used to be the Bar Convent School and over the traffic lights down to the station. Here the road bridge (that as a child I never realised was a bridge over where the railway had once punctured it’s way through the city walls) has now gone, concrete shores up the bar walls bank and road works fill the approach to the station. In the coming months I may get to see the station on the way back to Scarborough, but I’m unlikely to see the bar walls.

Down to the river bank, across Scarborough Railway Bridge, photos of the moorings obligatory for us both when on the train. Today only three boats were making use of the rings, one cruiser, a little black cruiser that has a seriously noisy outboard and the large cruiser that had come to visit us last night on it’s alternative mooring by the water point.

Along Lendal, saying goodbye to my Dad’s old office, along Coney Street, then down the side of the Grand Opera House. Posters advertising the autumn tours, Man for All Seasons, and Inspector Morse. Not sure how I feel about Inspector Morse being produced on stage? Maybe I should go to see it.

An early lunch. The levels were now down almost to where they’d been a week or so ago. The large cruiser returned, soon followed by Orchid. Time to make a move, sorry Tilly no shore leave for a while. Under Millennium Bridge, one last look back towards York, our plans don’t have us returning this year. But plans this year need to be kept fluid as much as the network allows.

I dropped below, working my way through panto, taking notes of what needs finishing off and anything that needs altering. Yesterday I’d changed my mind regarding some sliders, they were far too bold to be used for several scenes. I’d started on a differet version and had got so far with it, this seems to be a good solution. Only one bit of model I wasn’t happy with, so that would need remaking, I’d gone a bit overboard with my floristry.

**You can even purchase from your boat!**

Three boats were moored on Naburn cut. We pulled in behind the cruiser that had arrived the other day. It looked like it’s lines had had it on a bit of a tilt when the levels had come up. It took us a while to moor up a stiff breeze trying to push us to the other side of the cut. Then shore leave was granted.

What another outside with no view and little friendly cover! This was soon got over and Tilly disappeared until 5:55, 5 minutes to go before dingding time. Thankfully the internet seems to be better than it was a few days ago.

Mick checked in with Nigel who was penning a cruiser up at the lock. 1:30 tomorrow, he’d be penning us down here in Naburn and then penning us up at Selby. Selby Road Bridge was again playing up, a heat related problem, but if Nigel was around they’d be able to get us through.

An afternoon of working through notes and crossing them off the list. Then some time adding items to a supermarket delivery to arrive in Selby. Then after food it was time for the finale of Traitors NZ 2. Oooh blimey! I don’t want to say anymore incase others are still watching it, but it went the way we thought it would with a couple of twists on the way.

0 locks, 4.9 miles, 1 wind, 1 stubborn rope, 2 noisy boats, 0 queue at the ice cream boat today, 1 fond farewell to York, 3.28 miles walked, 59 minutes briskly, 1 calf hopefully mended, A4 sheet of notes, 1 arch rebuilt, 3 more roses, 2 outsides, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

Narrowboat Oleanna

Travels of Narrowboat Oleanna

Category Archives: Architecture

Smoking Chimney. 24th August

The Only Paper In Town. 23rd August

Is Autumn Here Already? 21st August

Straight Out Of An Agatha Christie Novel. 12th August

Assisted. 4th August

Sheila And Mr Straw. 31st July

Phoebe Anna Traquair. 27th July

Fish Finger Nerds. 25th July

A Different Side To Thorne. 16th July

Saying Goodbyes. 1st July