Category Archives: Birmingham

Smith And Pepper. 4th February

BUMingham

The Museum of the Jewelry Quarter has been on our list of things to do whilst around Birmingham for some time and finally today we walked down the first couple of locks of the Farmers Bridge flight then headed off northwards. Gradually the buildings turned from light industry and flats to small Victorian factories and then to houses. The houses are mostly shops, jewellers, bullion dealers, we’d entered the Jewelry Quarter.

Here is where the FA cup was designed, whistles for the Titanic were made amongst many other things boasted about on brass plaques laid into the brickwork below your feet as you walk along.

The Chamberlain Clock stands proud as a roundabout, erected in 1903 to commemorate Joseph Chamberlain’s tour of South Africa in 1902/03 after the end of the Second Boer War.

A small group of people were stood taking photos by the bridge over the railway, a Council street cleaner was busy too. It took a couple of seconds to realise why. This is where about two weeks before last Christmas some graffiti appeared overnight right next to benches where the homeless tend to sleep. Banksy had been at work. (Link to footage from Banksy’s Instagram page). The artwork made it into a lot of the papers.

Cleaned up, but who added the red noses?

The two reindeer are now covered with sheets of perspex which un-skilled graffiti artists now leave their marks on most days. The council chap was busy removing the latest offering as he chatted away to us, I think he rather enjoys his job now. As the pink squiggles were wiped away we chatted about similar artworks in Birmingham, especially David Bowie by the Bull Ring.

The museum wasn’t too far away and we managed to get onto the next tour round the factory. Smith and Peppers was established in 1899 by Charles Smith and Edwin Pepper (his Uncle) at 77-78 Vyse Street, Charles and his wife lived at 77. By 1914 the business was doing well and they expanded, houses were demolished and a factory built at the back.

The admin office with a paper trail back to when the company was founded

In the twenties Eric and Olive Smith (son and daughter of Charles) both joined the company and by the time Charles retired in the 30’s another of his sons, Tom, had joined. Eric and Tom then ran the business with Olive as company secretary. The factory continued until the 70’s when the recession hit them. People had little if any money spare so luxuries like jewelry.

In 1981, Eric, Olive and Tom were 81, 78 and 74 they decided to retire. With no heirs between them they tried to sell the company, but there were no takers. So after the factory summer holidays the staff were gathered on the Monday morning and told to finish off what work they were busy with and at the end of Friday the doors would be closed for the final time.

They tried to get Avoncroft Museum interested but they weren’t. So on that Friday afternoon when the last pieces were finished the workers downed tools and left for the last time, the doors closed behind them everything left just as they left it.

It took quite some time before the Council (who owned the building) to realise what they had and what they could do with it. In the 1990’s someone came up with the idea to open it as a museum. Detailed photographs were taken of everything, the building was emptied so that work could be done to make it safe for the public. Once this was completed everything was returned to the exact position it had been left in in 1981 when the doors closed for the final time. A real snapshot frozen in time.

Today Audrey, a volunteer showed us round. From Eric’s office where orders were taken for wholesale trade, into the main office. Here box files contain every receipt the company ever had. Orders would be recorded and sent down in the dumbwaiter to the factory floor. Eric would have his breakfast, toast with homemade Blackcurrant jam or Marmite. Finished orders would return here by dumbwaiter and be boxed up, reusing packaging, then taken by the young office girl up to the Post Office in a string bag. The Jewelry Quarter was a safe place then, everyone was carrying high value goods about the place. The Post Office here was the busiest in the country outside London.

Line of cast iron patterns bow the shelves

Down below in the factory we were shown where the days gold was weighed into tin boxes for each worker, at the end of the day these would be returned and weighed, finished items accounted for and a 2% loss was allowed. Each day the floors were hoovered, each day the overalls were washed out, each day all the waste and water was drained through tanks of sawdust, the feet of the wooden stools would be cut back every now and then and below in the cellar this would all be burnt to recoup any gold. Over a period of two years this would amount to quite a chunk of gold.

Flame sat ready to have air added from a pipe that would sit in the jewellers mouth all day

We were shown round where engraving happened, walls covered in iron dyes for stamping out patterns into sheet gold.

A bench where nine jewellers sat soldering bracelets together had an army of angle poises illuminating the benches where soldering flames burnt at the ready, tools looped over string for easy access and leather pinnies fixed to the benches to catch any gold before it reached the floor.

Sqezy washing up liquid ( my mothers choice for many years)

3D relief shapes were stamped into sheets of gold. One chap who worked on this was quite elderly and was pulling almost his whole body weight each time he used the machines, so a motor was added to assist him, but being proud of his skill he refused to use the mechanised assistance.

Other hand operated machines cut shapes out of sheet gold. Then a bank of polishing machines would be wurring round constantly with the ladies bringing the shine back to all the pieces.

Would you like sugar or something more sinister in your tea?

In a room to one side, tea making facilities sat next to the electroplating. Here the lady would make your tea, whilst handling deadly chemicals and putting items into a cabinet where the fumes would rise out of the factory, a form of health and safety.

Health and safety at it’s best, the cabinet to take fumes away with close fitting doors!

What a wonderful place, a must see.

White tiles on the building next door to reflect light into the factory

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 cooked breakfast, 2 reindeer, 1 sheet perspex, £7 twice, 2 floors of displays, 1981 stood still, 1 scottie on the floor, 2 adaptors, 1 toaster, 1 dumbwaiter, 3 siblings, 7 shades of overalls, 1 person to befriend, 1 tram, 1 package of post.

Kiss Me! 3rd February

BUMingham

We’re here again! I’ve nearly finished mapping out all the good bits of the sideways trees around here, at least it isn’t the severe BUMingham with only bricks! She says we might be here for a little while so I shouldn’t use this outside all up at once. Well I’d nearly done that the last time we were here!

But I do have extra bits to explore. This outside has grown a climbing frame, most unexpected.

Just look at that, with good places to sit as well!

There has been a group of Toms expanding it today. It’s going to take some calculations but I think it shouldn’t be beyond my abilities. The bottom bits have had nice spongy things added to them. These are not quite as good as tree trunks, but quite good to claw, a different texture. More importantly they should be able to give me good grip whilst I start my ascent up the poles.

My Feline Design Assistance is also going to be needed very soon. ‘The Garden’ is my kind of show, sideways trees and a fence to sit on. She has got the go ahead to make her model so I’m going to be busy helping. Apparently this model won’t have any poisonous chairs in it.

There is a song played in the play and I think the big giraffe across the way wrote it.

He just wants to snog everyone!

0 locks, 0 miles, 0 straights, 2 smilers, 2.5 hrs, 1 thumbs up, 1 climbing frame, 41 trolleys reported, 2 extra levels, 1 snogging giraffe.

Wading Through Trolleys. 2nd February

Lower Ocker Hill Branch to Cast Iron Roving Bridge, Birmingham

We popped back out onto the canal shortly before 11am, heading eastwards towards Birmingham. The hope was to get up Ryders Green Locks before too many people were about, the area has a reputation.

Below the locks had far less rubbish than I remembered when we came through in June 2018, it being earlier in the day might have had something to do with it. The bottom lock was empty waiting for us, a good sign, maybe.

The first pound on the flight is longer than the rest and goes under several bridges before reaching the next lock. Mick took it steady under them. The middle bridge is a foot bridge leading across to Poundland and Asda. Asda may have a shortage of trolleys at the moment as most of them seemed to be in the canal! A few more stood close to the bridge awaiting their turn.

Wheels and legs of trolleys appeared just below the surface a couple just rising far enough to grasp a gasp of air. The sedimental trolley layers seemed thicker towards Asda, deeper water could be found towards the centre. However the depth wasn’t quite enough for us to just glide over the tops with the occasional bump or scraping.

A few attempts of forwards and reverse were needed to help settle the metal wheeled cages below to give us just enough depth to pass on wards. It took a little while but we made it. C&RT will be well aware of what lies below the surface here, but we’ll double check with them when the office is open.

At the next lock I walked through the boat to reach the bow to get off, not wanting to risk getting stuck on more trolleys. Here the local drinking club had already convened. As I walked up I said a jolly ‘Morning!’ to them. One chap congratulated us for having got through the last pound, but wanted to show me something. He walked me to the top of the lock and pointed across to a low wall by Poundland. Here a fence had been broken and part of it was floating just above the lock. ‘When we left last night it was dark, but the fence was still there’. ‘I’ve tried to get the wood out of the canal, but not managed yet’.

He was very familiar from when we came through last time. Chatty, helpful and on at least his second can of Scrumpy Jack of the morning! As I opened the gate he and his two mates managed to pull the fencing to the side and lifted it out. ‘I’ve looked for the rest of it, but it’s nowhere. Just be careful’ as he put his rubbish in a bin bag by the bridge.

Back in 2018 the locks were locked by C&RT over night and we’d arrived at this lock heading downhill just as it was about to be padlocked. The boys in blue helped us down, they were playing an everlasting game with the local youths of cat and mouse. Lock beams being lifted, pounds drained, trolleys, general vandalism, so none of what we were encountering was unexpected.

The chaps insisted on closing the gates behind us, meaning I could walk on ahead to the next lock. Here I found some more of the fence, now burnt by the bottom gate. At least it hadn’t been used to try to burn a lock beam, a foot thick of oak beam takes a lot of fire to get it going thank goodness.

As I started to fill the lock I found more of the fence, sitting by our bow. Once the level rose we lifted it out. No doubt tomorrow it’ll be back in the cut, we just didn’t have enough space on the roof for so much fence.

Each lock now was empty, apart from the very top one. I signalled to Mick that I needed to empty it, a touch hard when there’s a bridge right over the bottom gates. He pulled back a touch and I lifted the one paddle I could unlocked. The surge of water was doing it’s best to drag Oleanna towards the gate, but Mick would engage reverse and keep her away…. wouldn’t he….?!

I could hear the engine doing it’s best, but still Oleanna kept coming. I dropped the paddle as quickly as I could, but she’d got momentum behind her now. Luckily there was only a slight biff to the bottom gate, no damage done.

Oleanna had picked something up around her prop again, hence the prop not doing what was asked of it. Luckily the wind wasn’t going to affect us today as we were in a bridge hole. I held onto the centre rope to stop her from drifting back and forth too much whilst Mick got down and at one with the weed hatch.

Stopping her from drifting back to the lock below

The prop mate did it’s job, thankfully removing a length of twisted razor wire, the pond gloves would not have survived this. Plenty more came away from the prop and filled the stern deck. This was all put on the roof to dispose of later in a bin, if we’d just left it on the towpath it would only end up back on someone’s prop and they might not have a prop mate!

Now with power restored I could empty the lock safely.

At the junction we resisted the temptation to go down the arm, we’ll save that for another day if we feel brave enough. On to Pudding Green Junction where we turned towards Birmingham City Centre.

There was work to be done and as all Mick had to do was continue in a straight line I bobbed down below to bake some sundried tomato bread and finish off my costume reference for The Garden.

You’ve just got to love some of the names round here

Familiar landmarks went past. Three central reservations and the round pillars holding the M5 above our heads. Then the Soho Loop and Oozells Street Loop, time to have a break and help moor up. We winded and returned to where we’d been a couple of weeks ago with the hatch on the towpath for Tilly to make a hasty return to the boat should she need to.

The bridges were full of people, plenty of youngsters all heading to the Arena to see Hot Wheels Monster Trucks Live! Blimey they were a rowdy bunch, buying checker flags and horns. Think we preferred the Strictly Come Dancing Audience of a couple of weeks ago.

8 locks, 7.37 miles, 7 straights, 1 right, 1 left, 1 wind, 1 tunnel, 2 times under, 2 layers of trolleys, 2.3m razor wire, 2nd Scrumpy Jack by 11am, 1 coconut, 1 broken fence, 8 actors with reference, £20 over budget, 1 sundried tomato bread loaf, 1 pair socks finished.

https://goo.gl/maps/XLnbBjujVeukxgQS7

Elongated Arms. 1st February

Riddian Bridge to Lower Ocker Hill Branch, BCN

With winds forecast to be over 40mph later today we aimed to get going, hopefully to miss the worst of it. Despite our aim we didn’t push off till 10am, would this give us enough time to moor up before the worst hit?

The sun was out, blue skies overhead as we pootled our way to the top of Rushall Locks. We could have moored above the locks last night but that wouldn’t have been half as good for Tilly. Signs on the outside of a building here tell you cruising times to both north and south. I think we’ve got plenty of time to get to York by mid July, via a lot of other places on the way.

The bottom gates on the Rushall Flight are doubles, not singles as is common on most of the BCN. The top lock had a nice wide walkway over the top gate and a handy bridge at the bottom, but this wasn’t the case all the way down.

The top two locks are closish together and then only just visible in the distance was lock 3 over a straight mile away. The first stretch of the long pound was filled with reddened dead scum, a slight aroma wafting from it as we parted it around Oleanna’s hull.

I hopped off at Moat Bridge and walked to the next, Sutton Road Bridge, where I joined the road to visit the handy Co-op. Quite a few things I wanted had sad gits labels , so loaves of bread and tomatoes joined our Saturday newspaper in my basket.

Handy long bridge hole so you can go shopping

When I got back to the canal, Oleanna was taking shelter under the wide bridge. No other boat traffic so it didn’t matter that we were blocking the navigation.

Heading down, the rest of the flight through the bridge

Then the flight was upon us, some locks full others empty. We soon got into our rythmn I’d open up, then walk ahead to set the next lock whilst Mick brought Oleanna in above, closed the lock and lifted a bottom paddle. I’d be back in time to lift the second paddle and open the gates.

Mick bringing Oleanna down the lock above

I tried my usual trick of kicking the gates open, but decided that the gates looked too chunky, so reverted to walking round instead. If I remembered to drop the off side paddle then Mick could close it from below using the boat hook saving me crossing the gates again.

No anti vandal lock on the bottom paddle

Each paddle, bar one on the very bottom gate is locked with an anti-vandal mechanism which you get very used to around these parts, you just have to remember which pocket you put your handcuff key in to be able to unlock them!

The roofing felt may be new, but the wood underneath is showing that it’s been there 24 years

The lower down the flight we got the more and more spongy the walkways got on the gates. Underfelt is used as anti slip across these, but the surface below some of it was very rotten and decidedly wobbly, I made sure I always had hold of the hand rail should anything fail. One of the gates was allowing water to bubble up from the bottom cill, guaranteeing a quick descent.

At the bottom lock, new gates sealed both ends and with new walkways I was able to cross with confidence once again.

Straight on to Rushall Junction, well at a slight angle now, the wind was building. A very long urban snake sat waiting to catch us out where the stern needed to swing. If it hadn’t been so windy we’d most probably have stopped to pick it up, but instead the engine was taken out of gear at the last moment to let us glide past, then engaged again to force the bow round to the west. Time to cling onto possessions and boat hooks!

The Tame Valley Canal sits high on an embankment and runs along the side of the M6 for a while to where the M5 joins it.

Roads intertwining high on concrete stilts, the River Tame curling it’s way slowly beneath.

Then once over the railway you are surrounded, the canal now in a cutting. A group were magnet fishing at one bridge, several items had been pulled out or just to the side. The chap said he was looking for mobile phones, so he’d most probably leave the trolleys where they had got dragged to.

Blimey it was windy, a touch more revs needed to keep us on our course, good job there are only a couple of moored boats about.

A rope swing distracted Mick at a bridge just for a second or two too long, the engine tone changed. A blast of reverse, still the same. Damn something round the prop. He managed to pull us almost in to the side and hopped off with a centre line. A spike was hammered in to help me keep hold of Oleanna against the wind whilst Mick delved into the murky waters of the weed hatch.

The wind was tunneling it’s way along the canal and Oleanna’s bow was being forced across the cut. The spike was pulling out, should I just let go. No I clung on, forced the spike back into the ground. In a two second lull of wind I rearranged myself to stand on the rope once it was through the spike loop, then I could lean back remembering my windsurfing days when I was just a teenager. I lent back thinking of heavy things like lardy cakes all the time my arms gradually getting that little bit longer. Surely Mick must have finished by now!!!

A large wet something hit the deck, hopefully that was all there was going to be. My arms were now stinging like Alan’s in A Regular Little Houdini, then they burned, at least if I let go I wouldn’t end up feet first in a tunnel of mud with the tide coming in!

As soon as Mick stood up I called out to him and Oleanna was just pulled in enough for us to get back on again with a jump. Blimey my arms throbbed. We now just hoped that the mooring we were aiming for was free and sheltered enough to be able to moor up with an amount of ease.

Still a while to go before we got to Tame Valley Junction, we’d most certainly had enough by now. We turned left and I could see round through the hedge that there was space. Reversing in would be easier we hopped than winding as the entrance to the arm was at an acute angle.

Luck was with us, the wind had dropped. Mick brought us round and started to reverse and as he did so a gentle little breeze pushed the bow round to the right angle to clear the bridge at the entrance of the arm.

Once tied up we could both breath again. A quick check round and the mooring was deemed suitable for Tilly. A late lunch was followed by a hair cut for Mick which was just interesting enough to bring Tilly out from the sideways trees to be picked up and returned inside just before dusk.

9 locks, 6.79 miles, 1 straight, 1 right, 1 left, 1 reverse, 1 newspaper, 2 sad gits loaves, 1 giant snake, 1 padded coat, M6, M5, 1 battle with the wind, 2 inches longer, 2 relieved boaters, grade 3, 1 key, 1.5 hours shore leave, 2 coconuts.

Thank you to Paul (Waterway Routes) we now know how many times the A5, Watling Street, crosses the navigable canal network. Fifteen times, more if you include the disused canals.

https://goo.gl/maps/MzEr4sMkjeidsNfy6

Quick Before We Run Out Of Water! 23rd January

Bumble Hole to Wolverhampton Tunnel

A quick reverse and wind and we were heading in the right direction again, back towards Netherton Tunnel. Two flashes of blue caught my eye, one Kingfisher stopping on the tunnel railings to wish us well. It hung around until we were almost level with it.

The tunnel seemed a touch wetter today, we passed a pedestrian who still had at least a mile to go in the dark. Not sure I’d want to walk through.

Out of the northern portal and we could spy a couple of boats heading towards us. At first they looked like work boats but as they got closer we realised that they were two trip boats from the Dudley Tunnel. Where were they heading? To the other end of the tunnel, to Hawne Basin for maintenance. You could certainly tell they were designed to have people on board as the sterns sat so low in the water.

Then decision time. Left or right? For our next destination we could go either way.

Vegan graffiti, catching on to modern trends

Left it was and on towards Factory Locks to get us back up onto the Old Main Line.

Just below the bottom gate there is a small bridge based on those that span the canal. This one is only attached on the off side and hangs over the lock tail. We brought Oleanna into the lock it having been empty. There was quite a lot of glass around so I trod carefully to avoid it, but this meant I was being too slow closing the gate, not enough momentum. I stopped being careful and gave it a big pull, this worked better until it wouldn’t close any further with still about 18″ to go. I tried opening and closing it, but still no joy.

We opened it fully, well as far as it would and Mick had a prod around with a boat hook. There was something down there, he just couldn’t quite get hold of it. Maybe it had moved enough? No!

Would the gate seal if we started to fill the lock? The pound above was full and the bywash into it was flowing, so we could try. I lifted a paddle, the gate closed. By now another boat was heading down, they filled the empty lock in front of us and took their time. Well I suppose we didn’t look like we were in a hurry, looking at the bottom gate which was actually loosing water at a rate of knots!

We levelled out with the pound above and opened the gate. The pound was a good foot down and the flow of water still through the lock was quite alarming. Should we stay in the lock with the gate closed, necessitating refilling it? Should we come out of the lock, that’s if we could get over the cill. Mick decided to do the latter and I walked up to warn the other boat that we might need to let more water down for both boats to get over the cills.

Safely over the top cill, level dropping all the time

Mick got out of the lock and waited. The lock above emptying had helped, but I don’t think either of the crew had any idea what I was on about, they most probably thought I was complaining about a standard leaky gate which this wasn’t. The lady was about to drop the off side paddle and then fight her way back over the gate, but I knew we were all the time running lower and lower on water, so suggested she use the top gate and I’d drop the paddle once the gate was open.

The boats do-ce-doed in the pound round each other, the chap complaining under his breath that Mick should have stayed in the lock, well one of them would have to go round the other anyway. They got over the bottom cill, Oleanna did too, but would there be enough water for them to get into the next lock okay?

We watched as they slowly made it into the lock and closed the gate behind them. As we rose they descended, most probably wondering what the fuss had been about. Just hope whatever it was that had originally stopped the gate from closing hadn’t wedged it shut with them in the lock.

Factory Junction we kept to the right and made our way towards Wolverhampton. We’ve been this way three times but in the opposite direction, hence not much of it looked familiar.

New housing developments stand where old factories once were, more houses going up all the time. The house with all the cctv and the crane bridge brought back memories though.

A cuppa in hand and some cruising fudge we discussed where we’d moor today. We’d compared our maps with the BCN safe mooring list and none of the places we had thought of were listed, so we changed our plan, stopping a touch early.

At Horseley Fields Junction we bore left and headed towards the top of the Wolverhampton 21.

At the service yard we winded and then pulled in on the off side mooring, secure in the knowledge that nobody could get to us unless they were on a boat as there is no land access.

Just look at all that climbing potential!

This looked great. Plenty of climbing to do in this outside. Some friendly cover that turns into a tree that covered a wall, brilliant! This would keep me busy for hours. Except they both shook their heads. She said something about me getting carried away with climbing and then would get a shock when I reached the top. Apparently I don’t understand about cars and roads and just at the top there is a ring road with lots of cars. No shore leave again, not even considered!

3 locks, 9.13 miles, 2 tunnels, 0 shouting, 1 reverse, 2 winds, 2 lefts, 1 right, 1 straight, 0 coconuts, 1 pig annoying gate, 1 pound emptying as it filled, 1 slow boat, 2 electric boats, 1 changed plan, 1-2 to Liverpool, 1 noisy ring road, 1 loaf of glutenous bread baked.

https://goo.gl/maps/gi9GqdkpV1jhkmZy6

Vampires and Elephants. 22nd January

Bumble Hole to Hawne Basin to Bumble Hole

The temperature had risen overnight and despite it being a touch foggy this morning there was no ice on the stretch we were moored. Waiting an extra day had saved some of our blacking.

We pushed over to the water point and topped up the tank, making use of being on the port side we also emptied out the yellow water into a container. The Conservation Centre was busy and a young chap stopped to ask Mick the usual questions. People were having cuppas looking at the displays and enjoying being out in the open air.

Lots of high-vis appeared. The first few picking up litter, they were volunteers. The next group included the lad who’d been talking to Mick, they had spades, brooms and swapped sides of the canal where another chap put on an orange top. These chaps waved their tools at the edges of the path just counting down the hours they had to do of Community Payback.

Reversing back to the junction Oleanna was spun round and now faced the route to Hawne Basin, new water for everyone on board. A short distance on we could see a chap wearing a life jacket holding a tablet, he was trying to look over new fencing that had been put around a new housing estate. We had to ask him what he was looking for. ‘I’m trying to get access to a weir to check it, but this new fence is in the way.’ He continued to walk round eventually finding a hole in the mesh fence which he could get through, obviously the developer has omitted to leave access for C&RT leaving the chap to scramble through a hole made by locals.

We pootled onwards wondering what the area would have been like 100 years ago. Busy and smokey guaranteed. Along the towpath of the Dudley No 2 are cut out information boards. Local characters and places are explained in a few lines.

Doulton originally produced terracotta and engineering bricks here but moved on to specialise in glazed sanitary ware. The works closed in the early 20th C and were demolished in the 1970’s. (More info here)

Eliza Tinsley. Following the death of her nail making husband Thomas in 1851, Eliza continued to run the business and began to make chain. Known locally as ‘The Widow’ she made a name for herself as being a fare and knowledgeable business woman. By 1871 she employed around 4000 people making nails, chains, rivets etc. She retired in 1872, but the business continued turning to mechanisation and concentrating on chain making for the booming ship building industry and mining. The company has since branched out expanding with demand. (More info here)

When travelling circus’ came to the area Elephants were often found frolicking in the canal. That must have been a sight as you headed towards them with your fully laden boat! The sculpture trail was made by local artist Luke Perry.

After a couple of miles we’d reached Gosty Hill Tunnel. Here the entrance is very narrow and shallow. The sign says passage should take around 10 minutes, we didn’t believe it as our progress was already very v e r y slow!

The tunnel is only 509 m long but is very narrow. Head height varies quite a bit, more than enough height to stand tall at the helm then two lower sections where stooping is your only option. The northern end starts off high with the change comes a large white line and a portrait of a Vampire.

In 2017 a boat managed to get wedged in the tunnel by two logs. They had no way of getting free, presumably they were in the part with little head room. No phone signal, so all they could do was wait for another boat to come and help them. Their wait was around 20 hours in the dark. I wonder what the rescue boat thought, how long had they waited for the tunnel to clear before entering?

Today all we had was some plastic packing that made a crunching noise as we passed through v e r y slowly.

What a busy place this would have been 100 years ago

A different world when we popped out the southern end. Large brick walls angled away from us with large arched openings. Major industry obviously. A sign for Stewarts and Lloyds sits in an old arch giving a hint to the industry here. The two largest manufacturers of steel tubes in great Britain amalgamated in 1903. By 1967 the company had become part of British Steel.

A short section of online moorings brings you to the entrance to Hawne Basin a very sharp turn under a narrow bridge.

Mick managed without touching anywhere, but it looks like many don’t! Across the way was the service mooring as we positioned ourselves a very friendly chap came to say he’d be a few minutes.

Oleanna’s stern had to be tied to a skip then we were ready to fill with the cheapest diesel we’ve seen in a long time. At 63p a litre we topped the tank up right to the top. I kept an eye on the pump so it would stop bang on a litre. This I did at 100, a nice round number. If we’d have filled at Sherbourne Wharf it would have cost us another £22, that’s 1.75 boxes of wine!

More bags of coal, Multi, an untried brand for us, but at £7.80 for 20kgs who was complaining. Apparently it burns quite hot, so it’s best to mix it with our normal coal. We emptied our bins and enquired about staying the night, but it looked doubtful as boats had been shoehorned into every available space, no pontoons visible.

So we headed back out, pulling in where another boat was moored. We came to rest at a jaunty angle and decided that after lunch we’d move back to Bumble Hole.

The tunnel was clear again so we set off through, this time timing ourselves. The old boatmen would set the boat going in the tunnel and then retire below to make themselves a mug of cocoa as little steering was required. Mick kept hold of the tiller though to save our nav lights coming a cropper. When we popped out the northern end my stop watch had just reached 17 minutes.

Approaching Totnal Bridge, Oleanna decided that she’d like to keep going straight! Not the required line as this headed us towards the bank. Mick managed to get her to turn a touch after the bridge which lined us up with a submerged something. We could hear it under the hull bumping along, then when it reached the stern we stopped dead!

Forwards, backwards, we tried pushing sideways. No movement possible. There was a request that I should head to the bow, rearranging the movable ballast (me). This brought our stern up a touch, a bit of reverse got us closer to the side from where Mick managed to push the back further out, then a blast of the engine got us away. Phew!

We’d chosen to do our return journey at possibly the worst time to travel, school kicking out time. A group of lads stood on a bridge and we half expected to have projectiles throw at us, but they were too interested in smoking their aromatic tobacco to be interested in us.

Back at Bumble Hole we returned to where we’d been this morning. The towpath edges trimmed back, the trimmings of mud now brushed all over the tarmac.

0 locks, 6 miles, 1 reverse, 2 rights, 2 lefts, 1 wind, 1 full water tank, 1 load washing, 1 empty wee tank, 1 clean pooh box, 100 litres diesel, 63p! 6 bags coal, 1 tunnel twice, 2 mysterons, 1 waiting boat, 1 stuck stern, 6 engines, 0 shouting in tunnels, 0 shore leave.

PPE 21st January

Dudley Port Basin to Bumble Hole, Dudley No 2, BCN

Our mooring had been a great improvement from last night, so much quieter. With the temperature that little bit higher we hoped for little ice on todays cruise. We pushed off and winded, making note of house numbers should we return and want a supermarket delivery.

Back out onto the Old Main Line we retraced our steps from yesterday, over the top of Netherton Tunnel to Brades Locks on The Gower Branch. On our first ever trip into Birmingham these were our first locks down onto the New Main line on NB Winding Down.

I hopped off to set the staircase for us, filling the top chamber and emptying the bottom one. As the water emptied out four coconuts swirled round below the bottom gates, bumping into each other, two made a break from the bunch and headed on down towards the next lock whilst the others continued round in circles.

This was where we first noticed coconuts in the canal, the Asian community place coconuts in the water as offerings as they would do in the Ganges.

With Oleanna in the top chamber Mick turned the engine off. It was time to check what we’d caught around the prop. Being a Tyler Wilson shell our weed hatch is totally separate to the engine compartment. This means that should the cover not get tightened enough we can’t fill the engine bay with water and sink. Our cover is below the canal surface so is also under the water.

Mick undid the cover, a tight fit so it needs a bit of wellie with a lump hammer.

Cover off, see what comes out with the prop mate

Once off it was time to see what was around the prop. With use of our Prop Mate a very handy tool he managed to drag up and cut through quite a bit of plastic. But there was more down there, time for the pond gloves!

With a glove on Mick had to lean further over the weed hatch so that he could touch the prop. More plastic, fishing line and some plastic banding came out. A good collection, this won’t be our last whilst on the BCN.

Now the prop was clear we could continue. As I filled one chamber from the other I spied a familiar shape down at the next lock.

A cat sat staring into the friendly cover, it turned towards me flashing white bits. Hang on! Then it walked towards me, white toes! Hang on Hang on. The camera came out to zoom in. Was it? How could she be down there?! I turned to see Tilly sitting in the window, Phew!

Oleanna is in desperate need of a wash. The other day I accused Mick of throwing a very muddy dog at the cabin sides whilst I’d been in Vienna. He denied this and I worked out that it most probably happened when the Fountains contractors were clearing the tree near Wast Hill Tunnel last week. I must get round to washing her, even if it’s just the windows!

Oleanna chased the coconuts down to the New Main Line and turned left to head along the straight before turning onto the Netherton Tunnel Branch. Time to get us ready.

The big torch was brought out the back, life jackets and all the cabin lights put on. I also found some Christmas fudge to give us a sugar boost whilst in the chilly tunnel.

Then a new job was added to tunnel mode, the Escape Pod. About bloo*in time they got my PPE out for going through tunnels, what do they think I’ve been shouting about all this time! Thank Paul for suggesting I might like my pod at the ready should the need arise. They have their life jackets on for when the outside gets stolen, so I should have my Escape Pod.

Netherton Tunnel is 2.776km long, wide with a towpath on both sides. It is straight so even from the junction you can see the light at the other end despite it being just over two miles away.

Two way traffic is possible and pedestrians with suitable footwear for puddles can walk through too. Today we only saw one bike, no boats.

We’d come across a few patches of cat ice this morning, would it be better or worse on the southern side of the tunnel. We bobbed out into the light again, no ice, brilliant.

Windmill End Junction, we turned towards Gosty Hill Tunnel and Hawne Basin. After about 100ft of ice we chose to stop. The ice was surprisingly thick here. Nobody had gone through to break it up to aid its melt. Diesel could wait another day.

Reversing back to the junction took a bit of doing with ice surrounding us. Mick winded and with the bow facing towards Blowers Green we carved our way through broken up ice to the bollards. Extra breaking of ice was required to get us into the side, but this was done with a boat hook.

Health and Safety deemed the ice to be broken up sufficiently for it to be safe for cats to explore. Tilly wasn’t too certain about this and clung to my ankles. Maybe it smelt too much of woofers, but she took some persuading to venture towards the trees.

Trees, every one of them smelt of woofer!

A quick comfort break was followed by a dash up a tree. Then we spotted our first snowdrops of the year, always a welcome sight. However Tilly soon returned to try to trip me up!

3 locks, 2 a staircase, 4.78 miles, 2 lefts, 1 right, 2.776 km underground, 1 wind, 2 types of ice, 12 coconuts, 2.5 hours not fully used, 1st snowdrops, 2nd helping of stew, 2nd dry day.

https://goo.gl/maps/co5NYZu7WxxYgwKAA

Wine Rationing. 20th January

High Bridge to Tiverdale Quays (Dudley Port Basin)

So much for 8.30! The music started at 7.45am, just as loud as it had been all yesterday afternoon. It’s a shame we weren’t in a residential area. At least it meant we didn’t lounge around in bed for too long.

Over breakfast we got distracted. An email from C&RT came in regarding the Council Election. Today we had been invited to place our votes for the Election of 4 Private Boating Representatives. We clicked the link, pulled out the candidates we already knew we wanted to vote for and then re-read the other candidates spiel. Not being ‘first past the post’, you put the candidates in order of preference, you can put all the candidates in your list, or as many/few as you like (as long as you vote for four people). We put six in order of preference. The comments on social media later in the day suggested that the original email should have explained a touch about the Council and what it does, also about the voting process.

Here is a link to C&RT website where you can find out more information about the elections. In brief

The Council is responsible for appointing Trustees and has the power to dismiss Trustees. While Trustees are responsible for determining policy and strategy, Council has an important role in helping to shape policy, raising and debating issues, providing guidance and perspective and acting as a sounding board for Trustees

Our shopping list was reorganised and we set off with our sherpa Brompton to Sainsburys. As I started Mick headed to Homebase to buy a couple of hose connectors as we were down to one and that one lacked a washer.

Our first reasonable sized shopping trip since Christmas, we were down to one last box of wine under the back steps. If we’d been getting a delivery we’d have bought six boxes, but today we only got four. Several reasons for this. Our sherpa can carry a lot, but two more boxes?! Our current tenant in the house is in arrears with her rent, so our bank balance is shrinking. Also we should really start having two dry days a week again, both for finances and our health.

Once we were back time had slipped away. Our planned destination for the day was now too far away. So we discussed what to do, one thing was certain we’d be moving on away from the noise.

A quick look at our maps and a large M showed itself about an hours cruise away at Dudley Port Basin. We pushed off leaving the radio shouting to itself for the rest of the day and evening.

Along the Old Main line we soon encountered thin ice. It rippled as we cruised by, then dull pinging noises started to happen at stretches where the ice covered the width of the canal. Maybe we should go down Brades Locks today, we’ve seen people moor below before. But no we kept to our new plan, carving our way further North West past the locks and over the entrance to Netherton Tunnel.

Soon the opening on the left showed itself. A housing estate surrounds a large basin where lots of boats could moor. We chose the far corner away from cars and in the sunshine, the whole basin to our selves. Oleanna was pulled back to the next spot after we noticed the amount of dog shit just where we’d step off the boat. Nice!

A quick health and safety check and the area was deemed okay for cats. We had no idea what lay behind hedges and fences so would have to trust Tilly.

A very large green box. What’s inside that?! Tom came and made me jump, he closed the side so I couldn’t investigate anymore, spoil sport! Brick walls, but just the right height to get up, a few sideways trees to explore too. Better than BUMingham, but there are better outsides than this one.

We were relieved that Tilly’s path didn’t cross with two other cats who were out for their afternoon stroll, one looked like an elderly lady with cut back fur. I suspect should Tilly have had a confrontation she would have come out on top, but we didn’t want any cat fights.

The forecast for the next week is looking a touch warmer, so hopefully ice shouldn’t become a problem. But our freezer is stocked, nearly three weeks worth of meals. Yesterdays roast chicken is now striped and frozen. It will do us another three meals and the bones have been bubbled up for stock during the afternoon and evening on top of the stove, so that’s either soup or risotto already half made.

0 locks, 1.92 miles, 1 straight, 1 over, 6 votes, 1 change of plan, 4 boxes not 6, almost 2 months owing, 2 belts to tighten, 0 pixel left, 1 coconut, 7.45! 1.5 hours shore leave, 2 dollops of pooh!

https://goo.gl/maps/6KWwFvjGuMXF9kv7A

Time To Explore. 19th January

Cast Iron Roving Bridge to High Bridge, Old Main Line, BCN

Our mooring in the city centre hadn’t been too noisy, just the comings and goings from the Arena and the Sunday morning runners pounding past. But we’ve been here long enough, time to move on and do some exploring. We currently have a plan which may change due to circumstances, so we’ll see how we do.

A Full stop would help this sign make better sence

We’d planned to explore the BCN a couple of years ago, but with temperatures soaring and a panto to design we opted out and headed for trees away from the city. Will we succeed this time? It’s winter and the temperature, at the moment, isn’t conducive to long days at the helm and may well mean we get iced in somewhere. We can take our time and keep a close eye on the weather.

The north entrance to the Soho Loop closed off

With padded trousers on we pushed off and headed north west along the New Main Line. We’ve been along this stretch a few times, but things change. Quite a lot of the graffiti has changed. Long lengths of wall have been painted black and artists and (in my opinion) none artists have made their marks. I like good graffiti and today some stuck out, the best being from Pulp Fiction with John Travolta and Samuel L Jackson pointing their guns at us as we left the city.

As navigator around the BCN you have to keep on your toes as their are so many loops and dead ends. But I managed to keep us straight until we reached Smethwick Junction where we turned right to head up Smethwick Locks.

Pulling in below the bottom of the three locks Mick had difficulty pulling Oleanna in. Was there something round the prop? Was the bottom too close to the top? She certainly didn’t want to do as requested, so it took a bit of back and forth. But this was just as well as I spied the bow of a boat coming into the bottom lock from above.

I walked up and the chap was just opening up the second paddle to empty the lock, he walked back and climbed on the back of his boat, with only one gate to open at the bottom I could do this for him.

Mick brought Oleanna into the lock, our first of the year. She rose up and once I’d dropped the paddles Mick opened the gate and I walked up to the next lock leaving him to close up behind.

The sun cast long shadows, but I was glad of standing in the sunshine as out of it even my well insulated legs were getting cold. No turning down the Engine arm which crosses the New Main line here (link to Lillian’s trip down the arm) we carried straight on.

We passed through the 103 yards of the Summit Tunnel and then the canal takes the same course as the M5 for a while.

The road busy overhead and covered in scaffolding. At Spon Lane Junction three locks take boats down onto the New Main Line, but we veered leftwards and continued under the motorway.

Passing over Stewart Aqueduct we were part of a criss cross of bridges. Below The new Main Line, then us on the aqueduct on the Old Main Line, the railway just ahead and soaring over the lot of us the M5.

The old bridge faring better than the M5

We continued to follow the M5 in the shade. Our route far older than the motorway overhead. Off to the left Oldbury Locks take a branch of the canal up to Titford Pools, but we continued straight on, passing a few moored boats on the off side and pulling in just short of High Bridge where there were bollards to moor to.

After tying up we stopped and had a quick check of the area. Numerous parked cars behind a fence that was bound to have gaps in it. A car sales place, loads of rubbish in amongst the trees and scrub, who knew what loitered there, possibly stuff that would be bad for a cat. Decision made Tilly would be grounded whilst we were here.

Whist we travel through urban areas we tend to have all the doors locked as a precaution. Unlocking the stern doors I was kack handed and Tilly saw a moment of opportunity and went for it! Damn!! NO sorry I’m busy! Too busy to talk to you! So much to do! She wouldn’t come, so I just followed her with the intention of a rugby tackle should the moment arise. Two crows came and shouted at her which helped, then a chap on the towpath also assisted by just existing. Time to head home! It’s just not safe enough to go to the loo round here.

It being a Sunday it was a touch too late to go to the nearby Sainsburys for a stock up shop. This did have it’s downside. We’d left the hustle and bustle of Birmingham and now found ourselves by a car dealership who blast out a local radio station for all the world to hear.

They’d close soon, it’s Sunday.

Mick went into their reception and was told that they’d close at 5pm and the music would go off then starting again at 8.30am. That was bearable.

6pm came. It hadn’t stopped. I think we were now upto date with chart music. It continued. A phone call to them, just to check it wouldn’t be going all night. No it would stop in about an hour.

At 7.30pm finally the thumping noise ceased, we let out a cheer. Thank goodness, but what time will it start again in the morning?

3 locks, 5.49 miles, 7 straight ons, 2 rights, 1 left, 1 escapee, 2 crows, 5hrs of constant thumping repetative music, 1 visit, 1 phone call, 2 boaters about to commit homicide, 1 bored cat, 1 roast chicken, 1 shopping list compiled, 3 coconuts, 1 Countryfile weather forecast looking promising.

https://goo.gl/maps/5mKp6EizZV4oDzvSA

Poot. 17th 18th January

Cast Iron Roving Bridge to Cast Iron Roving Bridge

Just as we were about to tuck into a late breakfast a familiar face bobbed down to say hello at our side hatch. Paul from Waterway Routes was heading off for the day to do some data checking for his maps. We arranged to meet up later in the day.

Tilly came and went whilst I made use of the washing machine. Mick headed into town to pick up some new glasses, he was a touch concerned that I might not like them as I’d not been with him when he chose new frames. The heavens opened and I was glad I was having a lazy day.

For lunch we set free one of the cheeses I’d brought back with me. Pixel had been loosely vacuum packed as it was so squidgy. It took a while to cut off an end, I then realised that the whole cheese was wrapped in muslin and it should have been unwrapped completely. But the liquid state that it was inside would have required a bowl! So hoping that the muslin would contain it we continued cutting it away, bit by bit.

Verdict. Ohhh yummy, gooey, slightly ‘prickelnd’ on the tongue. In fact after a couple of slices of my GF Austrian bread spread with it my tongue was just starting to go a little bit numb! We’ll try and eek this one out as it was most definitely a treat cheese.

Mick’s glasses are okay, bigger than his previous ones, Dame Edna meets Ben Sherman, apparently this is more modern and cool!

Paul popped in for a cuppa late afternoon when he’d returned after cycling part of the Trent and Mersey. Tomorrow he would be cycling from Lincoln to Boston to check data, good job he has an electric assisted Brompton, just hope the wind stays in his favour for the day.

Saturday morning, a bright start to the day, but we loitered in bed for a while, well I have been working hard! Mick headed off for our Saturday newspaper and after a leisurely breakfast we decided to go on a little pootle.

With the next week looking like overnight temperatures will be low, we need to stock up on essentials. Earlier in the week Mick had pulled in at Alvechurch to enquire how much their gas was. At £29.90 Mick bought two bottles! Coal was the next thing, so we pulled along to the service point outside the Distillery.

Another boat was topping up and emptying when we arrived so we pulled in and waited our turn. We’re hoping to reach Horne Basin, where the diesel is cheap, in a couple of days so we only stocked up on coal. Only three bags as it was £13 for 25kg a touch more than we’re used to.

The water tank was filled, the tap here has good pressure, one to remember! As we pulled away more boats were arriving, quite a busy spell.

We decided to have a little jaunt a touch further along the canal to turn round. We passed the boat that runs it’s engine late at night sat not much further on. One end of the Soho Loop is closed at the moment so we chose the Icknield Loop instead.

Blimey it was chilly out there, the sun low in the sky making it hard to see. The island here is becoming a new neighbourhood according to the developments website. Car free with modern terraced houses, green spaces (currently concrete and mud) and a widebeam sales office.

Coming back onto the Main Line we turned right and headed back into town, turning down the Oozells Street Loop so that we could turn back on ourselves to have the hatch towpath side where we’d been moored before. The left turn out of the loop was a touch tight, but Mick managed it without hitting anywhere.

After a cheesy lunch we walked into town. A bag of unwanted items was donated to Cancer Research, this has now freed up space for this years Christmas presents. Boots was visited for an adjustment to Mick’s new glasses as they were tending to slip down his nose. A food shop for a couple of days and some model making materials for my next project, I have a model box to make soon.

Back on Oleanna I browned some shin beef added veg and popped the cast iron pot onto the stove to bubble away the remainder of the afternoon. Whilst in Vienna I longed to cook for myself easily avoiding gluten in my diet. I’d dreamt of cooking on the stove top. Later on jacket potatoes went inside the fire box and yoghurt dumplings were sat on top of the stew. It’s good to be home again.

0 locks, 2.14 miles, 2 straights, 2 lefts, 2 rights, 1 liquid cheese, 3 bags coal, 12 loads washing, 1 full water tank, 2 visits from Paul, 1 stew, 12 dumplings, 1 flummoxed cat, 1 set of needles knitting again.

Narrowboat Oleanna

Travels of Narrowboat Oleanna