Category Archives: BCN

Digging Around In The Deep. 1st March

Operational Mooring, Walsall to Lane Head Bridge, Wyrley and Essington Canal

We’d survived the night and got some sleep. Being moored up to a floating pontoon in a storm has it’s benefits, if the water level rises so do you. But it also has it’s down sides, even though securely moored to the cleats on the pontoon this doesn’t mean that you won’t move. Oleanna and the pontoon were as one in the gusts, bumping around.

This morning the wind was still with us but the waves on the canal were half the size. Decision made we’d head for the locks and hope that we had been sat in a wind tunnel and just around the bend all would be calm or at least calmer.

The covers took a bit to roll back as they whipped round in the wind. I stayed at the bow ready to hop off once we had turned at the junction. It didn’t seem any less windy as Oleanna spun round to face north and the locks but at least the sun was out.

All bar one of the locks were in our favour, hooray! But the top gates gave us problems!

The first lock was fine apart from the rubbish. I’d list the items in the lock to Mick and we’d see how many he could spot , hopefully not around the prop. Second lock by an old flour mill had a for sale sign in it plus plenty of other rubbish. Once up I opened the gate, except it stopped short. A few open and closes usually gets things dislodged or out of the way, but not this time. Mick brought Oleanna forward but there wasn’t enough room for her to get through. Time to prod about to see what could be moved in the murky deep.

Boat hook didn’t do any good so the pole came out. The gate moved in and out and Mick tried to identify where the problem was. Poking and prodding, digging away at what ever lay down there. Eventually the gate moved just a few more inches, would it be enough? It was just.

Paul (Waterway Routes) had told us to look out for a different gate arrangement on one of the locks. Here at Lock 6 there were double gates, the rest as on much of the BCN have single gates. Now why would this be?

A single gate means the lock has to be longer. Double gates save water and length. It had to be something to do with the pound below. There was an arched bridge to what had been the entrance to a wharf, could it be that for a full length boat 70ft 11″ to get in through the bridge the throat of the lock had to be further away from it so as to give enough room to be able to swing round. There is no widening of the pound here to assist with this. Maybe a double gate reduces the length of the lock throat too.

Entrance to a wharf under the bridge on the right

Looking at Google earth later it looked like a full length boat wouldn’t have been able to wind here, so if they’d come down the locks and gone under the bridge they would have to reverse out and remain facing downhill. If coming up the locks they would have to reverse through the bridge and remain facing uphill. Are we correct Paul?

The next few locks filled, emptying the pounds above from being on the weir to a good few inches below, we only had one pound that was shallow. This along with a traffic cone and a bread crate made for slow progress into the lock, but we got there in the end. Coasting in, steadily filling it and then coasting out. I don’t know whether it was us or another boat that had put a ragged hole in the traffic cone, at least it wasn’t around our prop.

If I pile it high enough and keeping pushing it’ll just disapear

Bright sunshine was intermixed with gusts of wind and hail. Flying high in a garden was a sheet attached to a tree. At the back of someone’s garden the wall had collapsed due tothe amount of rubbish piled up against it. Maybe they think that if they give the pile just a little push every now and then that the contents will eventually become someone elses problem.

As I walked up to Lock 2, I spied a cat in the friendly cover. It soon turned it’s head so I could see that it wasn’t Tilly. A Tuxedo cat with a white nose. But not just any Tuxedo cat, this was a member of the Tilly Tail Gang, it’s white tip flicked round in annoyance at being disturbed looking for friends. I left it to it and carried on up hill to fill the next lock.

Deja Vu. The top gate stopped short of opening fully. The gap not wide enough. More digging around in the depths with the pole, gate swung open and closed, more digging. This felt like something really solid down there and it wasn’t shifting. If only we had a long handled Keb, but we didn’t. Only one thing for it call C&RT out.

It took a while for the person on the end of the phone to work out where we were, ‘not Ryders Green, Walsall Locks’, ‘No 2, second from the top’. Could we reverse out of the flight, yes, but that seemed pointless to us when we just needed someone to clear one gate and we were better off just sitting in the lock.

Eventually Mick got put through to a chap called Keith. Ahh! His Sunday team were out helping a stuck boat at Hatton, they wouldn’t be free for at least a couple of hours. He chatted through about what it might be, not the collar the gate was otherwise moving freely.

We nudged Oleanna back so that she was clear of the cill and Mick continued digging away. Keith rang back, his team would be at Hatton for another three to four hours, but he had called someone in who wasn’t working today to come out to us, they’d be an hour.

More digging. Maybe if both of us pushed on the gate? The combination of all our efforts and most probably our joint body weight on the beam got it to open just a few more inches. Was it enough? Mick brought Oleanna forward and managed to clear the gates, we were free.

A call to Keith before we got to the top lock, he said they’d still send someone to clear behind the gate.

The top lock was full with a paddle up and gate wide open. Up we rose and some eager gongoozlers loitered to open the gate for us. We then realised we’d need to be in the lock to top up the water tank, so their help wasn’t needed just yet.

The Boatman’s Rest which used to be a museum, it may be converted into a home for someone now

Two hoses and poor water pressure. So I walked up to see what the moorings ahead were like compared to the Visitors Mooring above the lock. I also wanted to see if Sainsburys had any arrowroot. I returned as Mick was packing away after chatting to the C&RT chaps, no arrowroot but a possible mooring where Tilly could stretch her legs and climb trees.

We pushed on and pulled into the side, well not quite. The rings were awkwardly placed and there was something keeping us from getting into the edge. Sorry Tilly. Pah!!!!

Another hour or so cruise to the next mooring. Back onto the Curley Wurley we compared notes on rubbish levels. Both the Walsall and Curley Wurley have a long way to go before reaching Green Flag status! Both are revolting in parts. Vandelism is worst on the Walsall with trolleys, trees and graffiti.

Someone’s pushed the railings out to dump their rubbish

But wanton fly tipping on parts of the Curley and Wurley look more like landfill than a place to relax and enjoy. You wonder what the people in the house right alongside think, or maybe it is caused by them. However Walsall itself has been worth the trip.

Soon we arrived at The United Kingdom Inn, here the kids playground was busy as adults watched sport and drank. Not suitable for Tilly sadly and she may be cabin bound for a few more days yet, we will make it up to her soon.

Sat behind our locked gate I slow cooked a breast of lamb, braised the remainder of the red cabbage and we listened to people come and go from the pubs either side of the bridge until late.

8 locks, 4.25 miles, 2 canals, 2 coconuts, 1 fire extinguisher, 2 problematic gates, 2 spoons less, 1 cup more, 1 less successful day, 0 arrowroot, 1 full water tank, 6 hail storms, 1 less windy day.

https://goo.gl/maps/ocC2TKG9uk7a8ypQA

Day 3 Morning.

Before feeding, risen with a dome.

2 spoons discarded then fed

Day 3 Evening.

Before feeding, just about no rise, did it peek far too soon?

2 spoons discarded, then fed.

The Beast. 29th February

Operational Mooring to Town Basin to Operational Mooring, Walsall

In an ideal world we’d have pushed off and headed up the locks today, but with storm Jorge having already buffeted us about last night we weren’t sure we’d be going anywhere . We’d decided to wake earlyish for us, check the forecast for the next few hours and then formulate a plan.

The sun was out and it seemed calmer than last night. Forecast, the winds would build and it would be wet at times. We could make an early start but to get to a mooring we had several hours to cruise and we already know about the amount of rubbish that awaits us on the curleywurley. The thought of getting something major around the prop with strong winds was not a good one.

Should we head back into the basin so we could get off the boat and go somewhere if we wanted to? This would mean we could get a Saturday newspaper. Was the wind on the operational mooring being funneled by the tall buildings? Or would this be worse in the basin? Would the pub have live music on tonight? All these questions and Tilly wasn’t helping us with any answers!

First it was breakfast time for the sourdough starter. The cabbage had done it’s job and there was a distinct rise in the jar. I removed the leaves, drained off any fluid then added another half cup of flour and the same of water and gave it a really good stir. I then marked the level with an elastic band so I could see easily how well it did during the day.

With the winds set to increase we decided to head to the basin and see what it was like there. Taking care on the slippy pontoon we pushed off up to the junction where the wind whizzed us round. Blimey it was cold, neither of us had prepared well enough for the arctic blast. Back in town we moored up where we’d left yesterday, keeping the Costa customers entertained over their flat whites.

As Mick headed off to get a newspaper from WHSmiths I checked out what would be happening at Bar 10 tonight. A tribute band and a DJ starting at 9:30 going on till late! When Mick came back we easily made our minds up that sitting in a wind tunnel would be preferable to not being able to get to sleep due to music and rowdy drinkers.

We backed away from the pontoon, winded (a little bit harder here) and returned to where we’d come from. Once tied up we could relax, break the news to Tilly she wouldn’t be going out again and have a cooked breakfast.

Looking up to the proving shelf I could see things were happening to my starter. I could swear it grew everytime I looked away. The level crept up the inside of the glass, had I misread the instructions and bought the wrong sized jar? This was only day two, that cabbage had given it ideas above it’s station, would I need to sit it in a bowl to catch it if it grew over the top? Instead when there was only an inch left of air in the jar I moved it off the shelf onto the table where the cooler temperature should slow it’s growth.

During the afternoon I found my ground plan of the theatre in Vienna. I then made cut outs of sofas, baths, doors etc and started to arrange them on the plan doing my best to keep the important elements within everyone’s sight lines. If only I could grown the downstage area by 1m each side, would a corner bath work better? When were corner baths brought in?

I spent a couple of hours nudging the furniture around trying to find the best solution, then added into the equation the height of their stage and needing to be able to see over the back of a sofa as to what was happening on a balcony US. This would mean having several steps up to the balcony, where could they go. Was there enough room to get a large laundry basket through doors Down Stage? Could I move the balcony Down Stage? What if this went there? Or that there?

Steps to the balcony and the prosc widened

I sent an email to Vernon the Production Manager with a few questions, like could I make their proscenium wider. I’m waiting to hear back, I already know the answer but it’s worth asking.

By 9pm, the beast in the jar was needing feeding again, it had deflated itself so I plucked up the courage to take the lid off and give it a feed. We’ll see if we have to fight our way into the main cabin in the morning.

Jorge has buffeted us about for most of the day and given us some sunshine along with hail stones bouncing in through the mushroom vents. Here’s hoping it calms down enough for us to get up the locks tomorrow.

0 locks, 0.9 miles, 2 winds in the wind, 2 moorings, 1 newspaper, 1 tribute band, 1 inch, 4 inches, 7 inches! 1 beast in a jar, 4 options, 2m extra wide or no space for actors, 2 troublesome balconies, 1 extreamly windy mooring, 59 views from facebook, are we being talked about?

Day 2 Evening.

Reached top of the jar before deflating. Liquid drained off and fed again

What A Load Of Cr*p! 26th February

Ocker Hill to Walsall Town Basin

Opening up the side hatch Mick exclaimed, ‘What a load of crap!’ The gunnel was covered in white splatterings. Something hadn’t agreed with one of our feathered friends last night. It would get sorted the next time we could reach that side.

Oleanna had obviously been a good target as when we came outside the roof was covered in it too. We both looked over head, not an obvious tree branch or cable to shit from! The roof got a scrub down with canal water, well as much as I could reach. This would do for now.

Just as we untied ready to push off a lady from the nearby offices decided that it was a good time to come and have a chat. Mick had just got rid of his rope, luckily it wasn’t too windy! But when it started to sleet she headed back inside to leave us to get on with things.

Back out on the canal we pulled in at the services at the junction to top up the water tank. The tap took a bit of finding hidden away behind fencing. But one thing wasn’t so hard to find, more sh*t on the port side. More scrubbing down as the possible offender watched from on high.

Straight on to new water again and the Walsall Canal. Not the most pleasant day for cruising as sleet wind and rain managed to come and go in between the odd bit of sunshine.

We’d been warned that the Walsall Canal is the least respected in the country with the most amount of rubbish. So we were prepared for our two hour cruise to be a long one.

Plenty of graffiti to look at, not much artistic flair in most, just tags. We were definitely in the area of Ghost EA though. A few weeks ago I’d taken a photo of his tag on a bridge on the Tame Valley Canal, just white spray paint. Today we’d see his progression through the years to silver, then a touch of orange, followed by an array of colours and far more intricate designs the closer we got to Walsall.

The rubbish in the most part clung to the edges in amongst the reeds. Plastic bottles, aerosol cans, beer cans. At most bridge holes the banks were covered with unwanted items just dropped over the wall and out of view. Every now and then a fire extinguisher would bob along. Why, where had they come from? Today the fire extinguishers way outnumbered the coconuts. Most probably stolen, set off and then thrown into the cut once the fun was over.

A chap walking his dog warned us that there were trees down ahead. Not unusual at the moment after all the storms. But he said that it had been kids chopping them down, right across the canal.

Would this impeded our progress? Was the chaps version of ‘right across the canal’ the same as ours would have been, we could only find out.

A few miles on through Porket’s Bridge we knew this is where he’d meant, plenty of branches in the water, but it didn’t look too bad. Under the surface however lurked numerous shopping trolleys. Mick put the engine into neutral and with the wind behind us we coasted through very slowly.

The branches weren’t too bad, coasting meant they didn’t entangle themselves around the prop. A little bit of engine was needed at one point to realign Oleanna to avoid the next felled tree, then we could coast again. Those poor trees. Splintered stumps standing to three four foot the rest pushed into the cut.

A double take as two flat feet drifted past with jewels on their fallen arches. A doll no doubt.

Where the canal narrowed crap would have collected, one such place with a steel overhanging edge and wind. Was the overhang such that it would get the cabin sides as we coasted through? The wind certainly didn’t help! But we managed it in the end.

By one bridge a group of four chatted, two lads ran up onto the bridge and hung over. Here we go! Time to be sitting ducks. No chance to say hello before we might have to duck. But then they dashed back off the bridge to join their mates again. Cheery Hellos, Phew!

As we approached Walsall Junction new buildings rose from the ground, the chimney at Majorfax reminding the area of times gone by.

We followed the canal round to the right, the locks can wait for another day, and headed in towards the basin.

A narrowing with a yellow boom across it to stop the rubbish, as we’d been told the boom just pivoted out of the way and allowed us entrance.

Two pontoons to choose from, no other boats. We pulled into the one furthest out and then battled against the wind to tie up. What should have been around a 2 hour cruise had turned into 3.5 hours. Time for a late lunch as Tilly quickly realised she preferred to explore the inside of her eye lids once more. Soon we’ll be back in the countryside Tilly, I promise.

0 locks, 6.1 miles, 1 reverse, 2 straights, 1 right, 1 boom, 2 lemons (no longer needed after Shrove Tuesday), 3 coconuts, 18 fire extinguishers, 6 broken trees, 5682 trolleys, etc, 1 near miss, 1 huge splattering, 1 resigned cat, 2 Walsall schnitzels.

https://goo.gl/maps/m1MSsjedJHsLTWEr9

Ryding Over. 25th February

Coombes Bridge to Lower Ocker Hill Branch

A much quieter evening last night and we were up earlyish to start the day the only way we could with Blueberry Pancakes. A couple of years ago Jaq on NB Valerie had suggested using Bobs Red Mill’s 1 to 1 flour in baking, it’s that bit more expensive than the usual brands of gluten free flour, but I hunted down a bag. I haven’t used it that much and this morning noticed that it was just about to run past it’s best before date, so it went to the batter. It does make the best pancakes for breakfast.

Once filled up we made ready to cruise, the sun was out, would we need all our layers? We put them on just in case and within an hour we were glad we had. The lady from Hawne Basin was walking her dog, we said we’d maybe see them on the Leeds Liverpool this summer, but she’d just been offered a job so would be staying put. But their friends on NB Lottie Jane would be up there for the festival in May. Could that be the NB Lottie Jane we had drinks on at the beginning of May last year with the NB Mr Blue Sky crew?

When talking to Paul the other week he’d suggested walking over the top of Gosty Hill Tunnel, I hopped off just before the south portal and waved Mick goodbye as he ducked into the dark. Yesterday it had taken us 18 minutes to travel through and the second half had taken around 10 minutes. I set the stop watch going.

Gosty Hill is pretty steep at the southern end but this gives you good views towards Dudley and Tipton. I knew I’d be quicker than Oleanna and at around 8 minutes stood for a rest against a brick structure in someones garden.

This is the top to the one and only air shaft from the tunnel (a mysteron). I hoped to be there to listen out for Mick passing below and maybe say hello as he did so. But sadly the traffic on the road was a touch too noisy and a very friendly electrician chatted to me as he got things from his van, his mate hadn’t believed him that boats still passed below.

After five minuets I finished walking down the hill to see Oleanna already popping out of the north portal, 17 minutes, positively speedy.

Mick made sure we lined up differently to bridges that had been problematical a month ago and coasted through without too much bother. Just a shame sleet seemed to be setting in now.

A right at Windmill Junction and through Netherton Tunnel for the last time this visit. We’d been wondering if our chosen route northwards would exclude tunnels until we reach Foulridge, but there are quite a few small one’s we’d forgotten about en route.

Sleet had turned to rain on the otherside of the tunnel. A right then a left brought us to the top of the Ryder Green flight. Most locks were full and we made steady progress downhill. Zooming in to Lock 7 I couldn’t see the usual drinkers but then all of a sudden they were there. No sign of the chap with dreds or the Polish chap from last time, but three new drinkers. One chap was very interested in how a lock worked, he was considering a boating holiday but would need to cut out the beer to save up!

I hopped on board. The next pound the supermarket trolley pound. If we were to get stuck I’d rather be able to make a cuppa and stay warm whilst we waited to be rescued. On the Asda side, trolleys poked their wheels up for air as we coasted along at a safe distance on a slightly jaunty angle.

The last lock landing was harder to pull into, but we got there in the end. Were the cans in the lock just one days consumption? I trod carefully around the gates as there was so much broken glass, you wouldn’t want to go falling over.

Now we hoped luck would be on our side. I stood at the bow and waited to peek around the corner at Ockers Hill but an orange blob caught my eye. Was it? Would it stay put?

A Kingfisher sat in a tree just a few feet away. As we levelled with it it swooped away to another perch and continued to show us the way for a few more hundred yards. Such beauty in amongst all the rubbish.

There was space, Hooray as we wanted to stop now. Tied up and Tilly let out we could warm up again.

This evening I made a batch of buckwheat flour pancakes. Four savoury with ham and strong cheddar which baked for a while in the oven. Then five sweat, chocolate, sugar and lemon and golden syrup. Not all together! All very nice indeed.

8 locks, 8.46 miles, 2 rights, 2 lefts, 1 straight, 2 tunnels, 8 mysterons, 1 seen from the top, 1 chilly day, 2021 May, 3 drinkers, 31 cans, 1 kingfisher, 1.5 hrs shore leave, 15 blueberry, 4 ham and cheese, 5 sweat, happy pancake day.

https://goo.gl/maps/3wpbUd9a1oc8ZAAx5

Blue Skies And Empty Pounds. 23rd February

New Inn Road Bridge to Bumble Hole

We took time over breakfast and waited to see if the forecast was correct, the rain was meant to stop at 9am. It did, but we left it a while longer just in case before pushing off.

The top lock was full with it’s gate half open, as was the second one down. I walked to have a look from the bridge and noticed that that was where the good news stopped, the next pound down was decidedly low, bordering on being empty.

Tim and Tracey had said they’d had to fill pounds the other day when they came up the flight so I decided to have a walk down to see if this was the only pound. Mick lifted paddles and started to fill up from above. The pound between locks 5 and 6 only had a few inches of water in it, this would take a touch more than just a couple of locks full.

I phoned Mick to let him know we’d be needing water further down the flight, then walked to the bottom lock to check everything was closed, it was. By lock 5 there is a bridge hole where I could count 14 brick courses above the puddle that lay at the bottom of the canal. These would be around 4 inches each, Oleanna’s draught around 2ft 7inches. So we would need to fill the pound so that at most 4 bricks showed, this would still be lower than the marks on the wall suggested the pound normally sits at. Hopefully this would be enough for us to move from one lock to the next.

All the lock gates were closed, then paddles at both ends opened. Once the level was up to four bricks I started to walk back up the flight closing all the bottom paddles and leaving the top ones open on the upper locks, so that they would fill as we descended. I most probably could have done this with all of the locks but if someone started to head up they might not notice an open paddle and we’d be back to filling pounds again.

It had taken about half an hour to sort levels, thank goodness the pounds weren’t all that big, and we could start to work our way down. Mick closed top gates and would lift a paddle on the bottom gate whilst I walked down to open the next gate and make sure the lock below was already filling, then walk back up to set Oleanna free and close the gate.

On reaching the bottom pound the lock of water brought the level up to three bricks, just enough to get us over the cill and slowly into the next chamber, in hindsight another bricks worth would have been good.

Once out of the stinky bottom lock we swung a right. No horn blowers today, although there were a couple of chaps walking around in high-vis, maybe just keeping an eye on things.

When the M5 yielded we got to see the sky. It was a funny colour, a sort of blue! It’s been a while since we’ve seen blue sky and white fluffy clouds. Almost a lovely day if the wind would just calm down a touch.

This visit to the area we’d not been up or down the Spon Branch and it’s such a good name ‘SPONNNNNN!!!’ that we just had to go down the locks. At Spon Lane Junction the canal is wide to enable the almost 330 degree turn to face the locks. This should have been okay, but the wind had different ideas and kept pushing us this way and that. Eventually we got close enough to the side for me to hop off and open the gate.

Double bottom gates again, the top one with a handy bridge, but the other two on the branch only have a walkway on the gates without a handrail. No kicking these gates open and I don’t hop from an open gate to a closed one, only one thing to do walk round! Luckily my assistant on Oleanna had positioned the boat hook within reach so once Oleanna was clear of the gates he could push the off side gate closed, saving a trip round.

A couple of muffins helped to fend off starvation as we made our way back along the New Main Line and turned at Dudley Port Junction to face Netherton Tunnel. Up on Tividale Aqueduct we could just make out a moving boat, the only one we saw all day, we waved but no wave came back.

Then we were plunged into the darkness of the tunnel. Two torches followed us and towards the southern portal four bicycles headed in, none with any lights. Popping back out into day light and sunshine we pulled in to the moorings, water could wait for tomorrow, lunch couldn’t.

Tilly had a good sniff around, climbed a few trees, but the whole place smells too much of woofer to be really good. A lad on a motorbike could be heard zooming around the area, luckily Tilly had taken to sitting in the pram cover for when he came past at speed. We all decided that maybe it would be better for her to be indoors.

9 locks, 6.38 miles, 5 straights, 1 right, 2 lefts, 2 empty pounds, 14 to 3, 0 work for DPD today, 1 tunnel, 7 mysterons, 1 annoying motorbike, 2 muffins, 1 huge joint of roast pork with excellent crackling.

https://goo.gl/maps/5ptr32yJWiLxqkga7

Bumping Into The M5. 22nd February

New Inns Road Bridge to Titford Pools to New Inns Road Bridge

From our mooring we walked to Langley High Street where a length of shops greeted us. A Londis and Post Office which both looked like convenience stores, we were after our Saturday newspaper and some longer dated blueberries. There were few papers in Londis and the smell of disinfectant a touch too much trying to mask the bad smell at the back of the shop! The Post Office had a sweeter aroma but only copies of The Sun to be had. So much for trying to support the local shops!

One of those stuffed full hardware shops caught our eye, here you squeezed between the stuff for sale, on the floor, shelves, walls and ducked the goods suspended above. Everything from paint rollers, felt tip pens, dog chews, to large tasseled lamp shades. There was only one thing missing, a collapsible bucket. We’ll have to wait for a chandlers.

A walk further up the canal to Asda and Aldi. Here there were three copies of our newspaper but none had the good bits making it worth buying. So we left empty handed and underwhelmed with Asda as usual, but glad Aldi are still selling stove top fans. Facebook boaters pages will be kept happy for weeks.

The wind wasn’t too bad, but by now it was too late in the day to head very far. One thing we could do though was wind ready for departure in the morning.

We’d been warned at how shallow the canal was and where to take extra care so as not to go aground. So we took it steady, managing to ride over the lumpy bottom of the canal on several occasions. After a very narrow bit Oleanna refused to be steered setting her own course, suggesting the depth was very very shallow, but shortly afterwards she responded.

Just after Jarvis Bridge the torso of a man high up on a precarious ladder signalled our arrival at Titford Pools.

The pools were constructed in 1773-4 by James Brindley, originally designed as a reservoir to help feed the Smethwick Summit Level of the Old Main Line. In the early 20th Century they became a place for leisure activities attracting fishermen and parties to enjoy one of the prettiest spots in the Midlands.

During the 1st WW it fell into disuse but come 1933 it was reopened as Titford Pleasure Park. The lakes were restocked with fish, a buffet built along with a bowling green, 18 hole putting green and a shooting range to go with boat hire. It proved a popular spot until the 2nd WW came along. Hard to think of it being a tranquil mecca, as now the M5 passes right over the top on concrete legs which dip into the pools. Yet birds flock here. We surprised a vast gaggle of geese and pigeons and gulls swirled over our heads.

There are two pools one on the far side of the M5. To reach there you need to hold your concentration as despite the pools having recently being dredged, under the motorway is very very narrow as we discovered! We headed to the far end before winding with ease in the large triangular pool to head back.

The pools had become so silted up from run off from the M5 that the Highways Agency has recently dredged them. A thin L shaped island gives you a route that once you had to back out of, but now with greater depth you can glide round in a full circle back into the large pool by the motorway.

In 1889, 21 year old Joseph Harvey, a horse driver, and 20 year old Lizzie Bates committed suicide by drowning themselves in the pool. At the inquest, Lizzie’s sister explained that the pair had visited Stourbridge on the Sunday and returned that night, she’d left them both downstairs in the family house. The next morning Lizzie was missing and her father found a note which read

Lots of trees have been felled some carved into toadstools

‘Dear Father, you must not grieve over me, for I have done this with Joe, because he could not have me in life, so I thought he should have me in death. He said that he should never see me again in life when he left me, so I thought I would go with him; and, Father, when you find us, please bury us as close together as you can. Give my love to all my friends, and tell what has caused it, through having a miserable life at home, and for the one I love. So good night, and God bless you all. Be kind to the children.’

Turning off the thin long side of the L into the main pool

A second note to Joseph’s father was also read out. ‘July 21st, 1889. Dear Father, I leave you forever on earth, so now you will see what has been done by trying to keep me from Lizzie, the only one I could love, and I hope you will learn a lesson from this, and when you find my body you will find a glass pipe in my jacket pocket. Please give it to William James, my fellow workmate; and I wish to be buried me and Lizzie together, and I wish for my brother James to have all that belongs to me. You will find some money in the box upstairs – give it to Jim; and the pair of braces that Lizzie made me, give them to Joseph Stanfield. So I give you my best love, father and brothers, and all enquiring friends.’

The couple had been courting for three years but Joseph’s father had objected to their marriage suggesting his son should find someone who would do him good. The lovers bodies were found tied together.

On a lighter theme in 1938 a tale of a monster in the pools was banded about, most probably a stunt for Oldbury Carnival. The scientist investigating the Loch Ness Monster was to fly down from Inverness to try to capture the monster and return with it to Scotland.

The sculpture by Luke Perry (my how he gets about), The Rock Driller, depicts a miner drilling by hand at one of the thick seams. A hard gritty life stood on top of a ladder in pre-mechanised mining days. Down the side of the ladder there is an inscription.

“The Devil made coal. Made it black like his heart and hid it in the deepest recesses of the earth that he would drive man mad in the finding of it.”

We returned to our mooring taking our time and once tied up the cat health and safety committee convened. Today being Saturday the car park alongside was deemed to be safe, so Tilly was granted a couple of hours shore leave to explore.

0 locks, 1.16ish miles, 0 magazine and food supplement, 0 newspaper, 1 hr 20 minutes pootle, 1 bump, 2 pools, 3562 birds, 3 toad stools, M5, 2 hours shore leave, 1 happy cat, 12 blueberry and yogurt muffins.

Up The Tat. 21st February

Dudley Port Basin to New Inns Road Bridge, BCN Titford Canal

Four years ago we had an early start, my brother Andrew and family were visiting and the four of us drove to Burton Joyce outside Nottingham to pick up a small bundle of black and white fur. Gosh Tilly was small. After a few hours of hiding behind the sofa she ventured out, once my brothers noisy family had left!

Tilly before she was Tilly only 3-4 months old

Since then she has become a dab paw at travelling the canals passing through thousands of locks and travelling the full length of the country (well navigable bits) by boat. She still has to reach the furthest east we can get, so the breadth is still to conquer. To celebrate her fourth anniversary she had to endure still having a wet neck from the flea treatment and being stuck in doors all day, not one tree climbed! Later on in the day I was allowed to put her collar back on, no more silent cat appearing at our heels as if by magic.

Tilly now ruling our lives at the age of four

Shortly after 10 am a Sainsburys van arrived and backed up ready to off load our shopping. Everything was in order just a large punnet of Blueberries with a sell by date of tomorrow. No way could we get through so many before they go off, so we handed them back to the driver. Before he left he handed them back to us to keep for free. I’ll have to make some muffins I think.

As soon as we untied we were blown off from our mooring, just a bit of engine required to help us turn towards the entrance of the basin before we got blown there. Then more was needed to turn back onto the canal and head eastwards.

A white box had attracted our attention yesterday as we’d crossed over the canal leading to Netherton Tunnel. Was this a water point not on our map? I had a vague remembrance of it being marked in Nicholsons, or having checked it before. I hopped off at the next bridge and walked up to look.

A newish coat of white paint made the box stand out. It must have been a water point at some time, but most probably got turned off when the cottages below the aqueduct were done up, they possibly shared the same water main and would be charged for boaters filling up. But it seems it is now used for something else, a collection area for dog pooh bags!

Approaching Oldbury Locks Junction we confused the horn blower below the M5. Mick signalled we were turning right but until our bow started to turn you could see he was poised to press his air horn.

Now in front of us were the six Oldbury Locks which climb 38 ft up Tat Bank to the highest level of the BCN at 511 ft. The bottom of the locks was decidedly stinky, diesel on the surface and as Mick manoeuvred Oleanna around blobs rose from the depths and spread out on the surface. After a couple of locks the surface cleared up and the smell dissipated.

You get very used to keeping an eye where you tread around locks, but today there was something unusual lurking in the grass for us. Mick picked it up to add to our mountain of rubbish.

One lock was empty, which was strange as I could make out someone in a red coat ahead who looked like they were working the locks. Were they going up or coming down? It didn’t take long to realise they were also heading up.

The wind was a touch keen so I’d set the next lock, raising the level just enough to get over the cills before heading back down to close the gate behind Mick. Once up the last lock we had reached our destination of a week ago, Titford Pump House, but storm Dennis had kept us in Birmingham.

Two familiar faces walked towards us, it was Tim and Tracey Clark from NB Sola Gratia. We’d been following them up the locks, thankfully they had done most of the filling of the pounds as some had been very empty. We chatted for a while before they headed off to catch a train.

Next rubbish. At the end of the railings of the Pump House there is a gate, so we ferried our rubbish, waste and the iron round to the big skip. The wind was really quite strong now and anyhow we wanted some lunch. We pootled on to opposite the wonderfully atmospheric ruins of Langley Maltings before we pulled in and tied to some rings.

We’d soon made the decision to stop for the day as we seemed to be in the middle of another storm. So instead of exploring the Titford Pools and avoiding getting stuck in the narrows we sat in front of the stove and watched an old episode of Lewis before I jointed a large chicken for the freezer.

A Hammer House setting if ever there was one

6 locks, 3.05 miles, 1 windy wind, 3 straights, 2 rights, 2 seater sofa, 1 iron, 3 coconuts, 5 years since our last chat, 1 chicken now 5 meals, 6 boxes of wine, 2 many boaters jumping to conclusions, 1 episode of Lewis, 1 unnamed storm, 4 years of our second mate ruling our lives.

https://goo.gl/maps/jGUgT49Rwey2yK7VA

Ten Two One. 20th February

BUMingham to Dudley Port Basin

Google calendar kept reminding us this morning that we had to be mean to Tilly. We usually try to time this with her not being allowed out for the day so that her collar and cat tags can be removed. Normally the deed is done in the evening, but today I closed the bathroom door and reached up onto the high shelf for the packet. So far so good.

‘What’s that you’ve got?‘ ‘That’s interesting‘. Still good.

‘Hang on a minute!‘ ‘You’re not coming anywhere near me!!‘ I decided to leave the job for a while as Tilly had retired into her escape pod.

This morning it was time to leave Birmingham, no waiting around for it to stop raining today! As we reached for our coats we noticed that our nearest neighbours were pushing off across the way. We waved and Dimitrios from NB Galene waved back, maybe next time we’ll get chance to talk in person.

Full water proofs this morning we were certainly going to get wet no matter what. As we pushed off we left one boat on the moorings outside the Arena, the emptiest it’s been for ages. Goodbye BUmingham and thank you.

Soon after passing under Vincent Street Bridge the rain was coming down in bucketfuls. Mick gave me permission to step below, which I didn’t question, leaving him in the rain with the brolly up.

Down below it was time. Removal of Tilly’s collar first. Fur Balls!!! This I managed then waited a while. The dinette table was cleared, the seal in the tube broken, it was now or never! My legs shrank but still managed to carry me at pace around the boat. From one end to the other I dashed. She stopped… no She hadn’t!! Giant Fur Balls!!!!!! Flea stuff applied on the back of Tilly’s neck in two places, the quickest time ever.

Outside there were noises. Wind and rain and some I wasn’t familiar with. I stuck my head out to check if all was okay. Mick’s ever faithful brolly of 34 years had finally given up. Not bad service. Maybe I could get him a new one for his birthday in three months time. The tangled frame was put in the shower to drip itself dry on last time and will await a suitable disposal point in the next couple of days.

The last photo with his old faithful brolly

Smethwick Junction arrived, I popped my wet outer layer back on and went out to wheel a windlass for the three locks up to the Wolverhampton Level.

On the gate of the bottom lock I noticed No.10 was carved into the beam. No.10? How could it be No.10? The next lock was No.2, followed by No.1. Hmm?! Well at least they read 10, 2, 1 even if it was 10, 2, 12. No photos sorry as it really was wet.

Back below I did work emails whilst Mick cruised along. The world went a touch darker and I knew we were under the M5, time to pop back out safely knowing I wouldn’t get wet.

On the local news a couple of weeks ago they had announced that the works on the M5 had been completed. Since then the scaffolding has been coming down. Long lengths of concrete are now visible, but then others are still clad.

Two lookouts stood by the canal and signalled our arrival with air horns. The clanks and noises from above ceased as workers put down their tools over the canal. More of these look outs were dotted along the towpath and sounded our arrival, well most did Mick had to bip the horn at one chap who stood with his back to us.

Then what to do there were two boats?! Going in opposite directions? We left them to it and popped back out into the rain.

Gradually the air dried around us. My neck didn’t! Mick swung us round into Dudley Port Basin. Blimey another boat was there! We aimed for the stretch of rings straight ahead of us nearest to the road and parking. Oleanna had picked something up around her prop about half a mile ago and as she turned in to moor something else was drawn to it. The bow swung round before I could hop off which left Mick to try to get the stern somewhere close enough to jump off with the centre line and pull us in.

Normally we wouldn’t choose a mooring so close to parking, especially when there was plenty of room further away. But with a tracksuit bottom around the prop with other items and a Sainsburys delivery in the morning booked we would make do, Tilly wouldn’t be going out anyway. !!!!!!

3 locks, 7.38 miles, 8 straights, 2 rights, 2 lefts, 3 coconuts, 5 apples, 1 lime, 2 bears, 1 peed off cat, 2 wet boaters,, 1 more so than the other, 34 years of service, 1 thumbs up, 1 cruise plan coming together, 1 mooring perfect for a delivery.

https://goo.gl/maps/WgEkqdbnQzhykpxt9

Cadburys Goodness. 18th February

Bridge 68 to Hopwood to BUMingham

Last Friday Mick had tweeted C&RT regarding the Figure of Three Locks on the Calder and Hebble. The stoppage notice for that stretch of canal after Storm Ciara was that the towpath was closed. Was the damage really as bad as it looked in the photos and video we’d been seeing on Facebook? This morning they tweeted back the following.

Hi Mick thanks for getting in touch. Sadly Figure of Three Locks won’t be open for your visit in summer. It was badly damaged during the recent storms and flooding. We estimate it will be 12-18 months before it reopens. Please get in touch if you have any more queries and we look forward to welcoming you in Yorkshire this summer. Naomi
@CRTYorkshireNE

Later in the day a stoppage notice was sent out too. At least 12 months before the lock will reopen. We’ll have to put plan B or C into operation.

Waiting for it to stop raining took a while this morning. But we were ready for it when it stopped. Outside covers rolled up and folded down, ropes untied. ‘Hang on! There’s a boat!!!!!’ ‘What? A boat?????’ We waited for them to come past before we pushed off. That’s not happened for months.

As we made our way towards Hopwood very dark storm clouds were gathering, we wondered if we’d make it into Wast Hill Tunnel in time before it started to rain again. No was the answer. A strong gust of wind coincided with us winding meaning the engine had to work hard to get the stern round, then the heavens opened. Oh well!

We could tell it was half term, plenty of hire boats were about. The boat ahead of us could still be seen in the tunnel and by the time we’d got three quarters of the way through ourselves another boat was following. Was it drier in the tunnel than out in the rain was debatable!

Popping back out into day light all signs of the crime scene had gone, apart from one length of plastic Police tape attached to branches.

Despite there being a boat moored on the bollards at the water point there was enough room for us so we pulled in and topped up the tank another load of washing was just finishing. We then pulled along a touch further for some lunch before carrying on retracing our steps back into Birmingham.

The aroma passing Cadburys today was more caramel than chocolate, or was it salted caramel, or fudge? We decided that it must be fudge and both started to sing the song from the advert. Link. ‘It’s full of Cadbury’s goodness’! No way would you be able to suggest fudge is good for you in adverts today.

What a jingle though, we both remembered it, well Mick forgot the bit about ‘it’s very small and neat’. It was written by Mike d’Abo based on the folk song The Lincolnshire Poacher. Mike d’Abo was more famous for being the lead singer of Manfred Mann and ‘The Mighty Quinn’.

I also found out that Fingers of Fudge are no longer produced in England, production moved from Keysham to Poland in 2010. So what was it we could smell today?

Talk turned to our cruising plans.

Plan A. Go over the Pennines via the Huddersfield Narrow through Standedge Tunnel for me to work at the Lawrence Batley Theatre. Then cruise the Huddersfield Broad, Calder Hebble, Aire and Calder then the tidal Ouse to get to York. This is now out of the window.

Plan B. Cruise over the Huddersfield Narrow so that I can go to work with ease, but then have to retrace our cruise and not head to York to meet friends and family with one days work at York Theatre Royal. Maybe.

Plan C. Cross the Pennines via the Leeds Liverpool Canal then Aire Calder and Ouse to York. This would mean having to commute to work on and off, then find somewhere handy to do this from for production week, or paying to stay in Huddersfield when needed, my expenses come out of my fee or the production budget. But then we’d be able to carry on to York, so long as the Ouse behaves itself! This is looking the most favourable plan.

Back in BUMingham we turned back towards Sheepcote Street Bridge. Loads more boats moored here today, but still three familiar ones from yesterday. We pulled in.

If looks could kill! Tilly was so not impressed.

0 locks, 8.99 miles, 1 wind, 1 straight, 1 left, 2 tunnels, 2 mysterons, 1 damp soggy cruise, 1 load washing, 1 full water tank, 1 very disappointed cat.

https://goo.gl/maps/1wU33kPsmQrJXZTF8

Flake Aroma. 17th February

BUMingham to Bridge 68, Worcester and Birmingham Canal, most definitely not BUMingham!

I’d made a promise to Tilly that today we would move the outside just for her, so that is what we did. There was a touch of rain in the air, and the air was still moving quite a lot at times but we kept my promise and moved.

An earlyish start for us saw us going right at Old Turn Junction at around 9:30am. Passing under Broad Street Tunnel I noticed a new looking sign, ‘Black Sabbath Bridge’. Last summer a bench was unveiled for the 50th anniversary of Black Sabbath on the bridge/tunnel. We’ll have to have a look at the information board by the canal when we’re back again. As we approached The Mailbox the wind whipped up, blowing a right hoolie it was, we were glad we’d dressed suitably.

Onwards we forged along the Worcester and Birmingham Canal. Through Edgbaston Tunnel. Past the hydrogen boat where someone is having a go at developing zero carbon emission propulsion, pedal power.

The new footbridge by Selly Oak Sainsburys now has large columns of concrete on either side of the cut, wonder how long before the bridge spans the water?

Then the smell of childhood. Cocoa. My childhood in York was filled with the smell of Matchmakers, a slightly minty chocolate smell. Today the air smelt of Flakes, Cadburys Flakes. It soon blew away as we neared the secure moorings on the off side. Plenty of boats here, one jolly chap said hello from the comfort of his pram cover as we passed on by.

Behind the covers of the Toll House at Kings Norton we could hear people at work as we carried on straight past towards Wast Hill Tunnel.

We were being followed. Now most Herons you see on the canals get all upperty as you approach them and as you get close they fly off a hundred yards ahead to fish, only having to do the same again and again. Well today we met a Heron who had very different ideas. He obviously knows something that the others don’t as he followed us time and time again, waiting for us to pass and churn up any fish.

Approaching the water point there was a lady in a lot of high-vis yellow, she made a phone call and then walked towards us. The Policewoman asked us to pull in as they had a crime scene ahead, a length of police tape closed off the towpath.

Being right by a water point we would quite happily tie up and replenish the water tank as the washing machine had been put into use since we filled up yesterday. She explained that if we carried on we might compromise the crime scene. Mick replied, ‘We watch Vera, we know all about such things!’ She laughed.

She knew what to do with pedestrians but hadn’t thought she’d have any boats coming past. Just as we stepped off to tie up she had a call back, we were good to go. Up ahead on Friday night a man had been assaulted, he had ‘significant facial injuries’ and then had been thrown into the canal where a passerby spotted his body on Saturday morning.

Another Policewoman stood by a tent a touch further on and by Kings Norton Bridge there was a chap with some apparatus on a tripod, it could have been a 360 degree camera. The towpath slope up over the tunnel was being searched by a team of officers whilst plain clothed police stood by the canal. As we passed we were asked how long the tunnel was, ‘2493m’. I wonder if they were considering if the poor chap might have been pushed in at the other end of the tunnel?

Few boats moving for days and we have to meet one in a tunnel!

Once in the tunnel we pootled along, hang on, someone was coming! Just after half way we pulled right over and just about stopped, their tunnel light quite bright. The chap at the helm asked if we were alright as we’d stopped, we were and carried onwards as soon as they’d passed.

No Police presence on the other side of the tunnel. We carried on a short distance and pulled in where Mick and Tilly had spent a night whilst I was in Vienna. Just as we were sorting out ropes the heavens opened and gusts of wind sent it sideways at us.

Inside, Tilly had already been surveying the outside and was sat waiting for me in the bathroom, SHOUTING!!!!!!

Four and a half hours!!! Bloomin brilliant!! But hang on. I’m not going out in that! Not for all the Dreamies in the world! The door closed, then opened again. It hadn’t changed! Several more attempts and eventually the outside was dry. See you!

Today the C&RT National Council Elections results have been announced. Only one of the people we voted for has been elected, the others came very close, but at least we voted. Out of around 34,000 boats on the network only 2040 people voted in the elections, that is 6%. Congratulations to those who got elected, please report back in some form for those of us who are interested .

0 locks, 8.47 miles, 2 straights, 1 right, 3 tunnels, 12 police, 1 graffiti tree, 1 load washing, 1 keen heron, 4.5 hours spent well, 1 white card finished, 1 set of costume designs finished, 2 panto award nominations, 1 photo from Frank, Thank you.

https://goo.gl/maps/bHyAEg9qaz5X4emE7

Narrowboat Oleanna

Travels of Narrowboat Oleanna