Category Archives: Boat cats

Ruination. 29th July

Retford and Worksop Boating Club to West Retford Visitor Moorings

Mick headed off to collect a trolley and await a Sainsbury’s delivery this morning as I waited for Sean, this weeks warden at the boat club, to come a take a meter reading of our electric use for the last few days. All good unplugged, our bill should be a little over £5. On his way back from picking up the shopping Mick got chatting to a boater a few boats back and was reminded of an assisted passage on the outskirts of Worksop that we’d forgotten about.

Last night we’d worked out where we’d be mooring each day so that we could reach the navigable end of the Chesterfield Canal and be in the right places at the right times for other things. Now we needed to factor in the two locks that are open for two hours twice a week. This took the grey cells a bit to work out and means we’ll need to be a bit swift up at the magical top of the canal if we’re not to be held up by several more days.

We pushed off a touch late with a bit further to cruise today than we’d originally planned. I walked on ahead with windlass in hand ready to set the last of the wide locks for us. I’d not checked how far away it was so ended up carrying my windlass for three miles.

Walking past Narrow Bridge Cottage campsite it was hard to miss the convex mirror on a post, maybe this was so people could see under the canal bride if boats were coming. Then there is a big finger post sign, we were headed to Ruination!

A few unusual plants caught my eye today. A funny fluffy thing on what looked like a rose stem. Apple Rose?

Then the biggest seedhead I’ve seen, similar to a dandelion, but bigger with fewer seedy fairies. Yellow Salsify?

The cruise was slow, I reached Whit Sunday Pie Lock well ahead and called back to Mick. There was a boat following him, so we’d be able to share the lock. He should give me a heads up when he was close so I could empty the lock and have both gates open waiting. There was time to see if I could find out why Whit Sunday Pie Lock had its name.

Well local folk law has it that a lady from a nearby cottage baked a large pie for the navvies building the canal who were working on a Whit Sunday. A nice tale. However somewhere else suggests if you hunt for maps that predate the canal then you will find a field called Whit Sunday Pie Field. Sadly I’ve not had time to hunt out the map in question.

However it appears that it is a tradition of the Retford and Worksop Boat Club to celebrate Whit Sunday at the lock with steak pie, carrots, peas and mash, sometimes followed by trifle. Maybe on our way back I should make us a steak pie, even if Whit Sunday is long gone.

Right, Mick was nearby and still being followed. Time to lift the paddles and empty the lock. Ah except this numpty had walked those three miles with a windlass, but had no key of power to unlock the locks to be able to lift any paddles! It at least gave me chance to look at how big a tree had been that had recently come down totally blocking the navigation below the lock.

We shared the lock with NB Fleur, the owners second time out on her, they were very new and wished that there were a few more pubs along the canal. We let them go first and followed on behind, me walking the towpath expecting to pull in at the Hop Pole mooring for a late lunch.

There’s a steep bend under a bridge at the pub. Once under the bridge I realised I’d need to be on the off side so I returned and crossed over the road only to find the pub well and truly closed and gates padlocked down to the moorings. Back over the road to hitch a ride on Oleanna. There would have been space for us on the water point, but we don’t like to sit on water points for lunch, then the other gap available was nowhere near long enough. We’d have to carry on a while into Retford where we did find a space.

From here on we are on narrow locks. Retford Town Lock being the first. Looking back the other day to nine years ago, I wrote that this would be the last narrow lock we would do on NB Lillyanne. Well that turned out to not be true as our hoped for plan of moving onboard Oleanna in Sheffield didn’t come true, in fact it was April the following year and we’d locked through may more narrow locks by then.

The top gate has a bridge on it as it’s a busy footpath across the canal. Two chaps stood and watched, a group of young lads fished above the lock concerned that our boat would scare the fish away. We paused above the lock, access to the port side to be able to empty the yellow water tank with ease, then continued on.

The canal passes over the River Idle, back pumping up from the river where there was quite a healthy flow. Up West Retford Lock and on into the woods. Here a 2 day mooring was our destination for the day. No-one else around, it had already been awarded a stamp of approval before we’d even tie up! Only an hour and a half of shore leave was granted, an extra ten minutes taken! We may have to try to stop here on the way back.

3 locks, 6.6 miles, 1 broad lock, 2 narrow locks, 4 boxes wine, 1 fridge jam packed, 83 minutes brisk walking, 0 sharks, 0 pie, 0 key! 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

https://what3words.com/inhabited.lighters.commutes

North By North East. 28th July

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club

With Tilly busy outside I got the bathroom bottomed and then the mop and bucket out. Two washes for the floor today, then a nice sit down outside whilst everything dried off. This gave me chance to chat to the lady from the boat behind and a chap who’d been cutting the grass, we’d found ourselves all staring out across the field alongside the moorings.

We’ve actually been plugged into the boat behind’s electric, which I apologised for, when we’d arrived they’d been moored nearer the club house but had come back to their mooring. I promised that tomorrow when we moved off I’d make sure she was plugged back into her meter.

Over in Scarborough Mick visited the hospital first thing then headed back to the house to finish off and pick up his bits, leaving our new lodger in residence. He then hopped onto the Coastliner bus to York. However, with the bus running 15 minutes late on arriving in to Malton and it being full of very noisy kids he decided to swap modes of transport to York and changed to the train, not free but would mean he’d catch all his connections, most importantly the last bus back to Clayworth which leaves Retford at 15:55.

After lunch I plotted out a walk. Maybe 50 minutes, I should be back just before Mick arrived. Back along the towpath towards Drakeholes, I then retraced my steps towards the Nature Reserve, finding a path across the harvested field much easier than when going the opposite way.

I could see clouds of dust being kicked up by the tractors in the fields bailing up the straw. I hoped that the field I was wanting to return by wouldn’t be being harvested.

On reaching the River Idle I turned almost back on myself into the next field, maize, these certainly wouldn’t be being harvested yet. My OS map showed a path across the field heading in a north north easterly direction, now where was that path? The start of the field was a touch bald of crop, so maybe the way through was a touch further in.

Hmmm?! No sign of it. It should just clip the corner of the next field! I started to walk along one of the tractor gangways hoping to find a way through. Nope! I walked and walked, at least the going was easy on the wide path. Aware that maybe I should be walking around the edge of the field I decided that actually I’d be doing no harm to my self or the crop by keeping to the pathway. On and on it went, the maize getting higher and higher. Over head I could hear a plane. Was I about to enter into a Hitchcock film? Be chased along through the crop by a plane swooping low? My pace was brisk, brisker than normal. If I carried on north by north north east I must surely reach the edge of the field sooner or later. Thankfully gradually the maize reduced in height and the edge of the crop arrived. I walked back to South south east to where I could see a bridge over a drainage ditch. I was back on track.

Except no I wasn’t! Another field of maize! The footpath totally obscured again, the tractor pathways narrower than before and running almost due north not north east. At least this field looked to be smaller and I soon reached the far end, followed the edge of the field back southwards, crossed into the next field. oh thank goodness a proper grassy path to follow.

But swapping into the next field to walk the boundary I really needed a machete! Brambles, nettles, thistles clawed at me, the not so friendly cover at times over my head, was this really a footpath? There had been a yellow topped post pointing me this way. Then finally I climbed up through some bracken another yellow topped post and popped out onto the towpath, what a relief!

The swans escorted me to Otters Bridge where I walked up in to the village skirting across the bottoms of some gardens, managing to avoid a growling silver back gorilla. At the back of The Blacksmiths pub was a mobile Post Office, very handy if I’d anything to post.

It was now a few minutes after when the bus was due in. When I’d set out on my walk my return time should have been sufficient to have boiled the kettle ready for Mick’s return, but after my extra mile and a half Hitchcock detour he’d get back to Oleanna before me. Sure enough I could see him just stepping down into the well deck.

We spent some time looking at where we need to be next and when. Where would serve our purposes best? A plan was put together to reach the top of the Chesterfield Canal, we just have to hope for no fallen trees, serious weed, or a lack of water to stop our progress.

We’ve got all our fingers, toes and paws crossed.

0 locks, 0 miles, 2 buses, 2 trains, 1 very clean boat, 6 hours shore leave, 1 Hitchcock walk, 1.5 mile detour, 1 jar of olives, 1 boy back home, 79 brisk minutes, 1 plan formulated.

Phoebe Anna Traquair. 27th July

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fish Finger Nerds. 25th July

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fairies Footpath. 23rd July

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Log Rural Mooring to Drakeholes Visitor Mooring

Some shore leave was granted first thing, then after breakfast and once Tilly had returned the doors were firmly closed. We’re not moving fast along the Chesterfield, well you can’t move fast anyway, but for the next few days we’ve only small distances to travel.

As we rolled up the covers the boat in front of us was making ready to push off too. They’d been moored at Drakeholes yesterday morning, our aimed for destination today. Mick checked the weed hatch…. weed! Quite expected on the Chesterfield. If the levels don’t defeat us getting to the top the weed at this time of the year might do. Having a separate weed hatch, which is isolated from the engine bay, means that Mick can leave the plate that sits over the prop loose as it may need to be opened up several times a day. On a more usual weed hatch this is not a good idea and the plate/lid most definitely needs screwing down securely otherwise you will sink your boat once the prop starts to move.

I walked ahead the half mile to Shaw Lock. The chamber was empty and dry, Oleanna rose up, the bywash being stopped as the lock filled. The top gates didn’t want to stay put so I loitered to make sure they did, we need to conserve as much water as we can this summer.

Another walk on to Gringley Lock. The chamber empty and lovely flowers alongside the lock cottage. Oleanna was lagging some way behind so I had chance to read an information board. The lock was supervised by William Antcliffe for 34 years, every Saturday he would walk to Drakeholes to collect his wages, meandering his way back much later, this suggests he visited a water hole! Possibly The White Swan which became The Mucky Duck, which sadly closed earlier this year.

Above the keystone on the bridge it says W & GN 1830. I’ve hunted round on the internet to see what this might be. I’ve found mention in an interesting article that it most probably refers to George and William Newton two yeoman farmers in Gringley, they were possibly responsible for this bridge which replaced a swing bridge.

Back in August 2016 when we came down this lock we were joined by another boat. The throttle cable failed as the boat entered the lock and instead of going into reverse it sped up crashing into the bottom gates!

I opened the top gate to let Oleanna out a big branch had been in the way, it now was doing it’s best to enter the lock. I hauled it out with a boat hook, Oleanna exited then I went to close the gate. Could I get that gate to close? Could I heck!! Maybe loosing weight isn’t going to serve me well with big lock gates, the extra ballast having been handy in such situations. Mick hadn’t got too far so he came to add extra weight and we got it moving again.

I carried on walking, arranging for a lift when we reached Drakeholes Tunnel.

Crops stood in the fields, golden.

A pink flower here and there on the towpath. I’d remembered the Meadowsweet nine years ago but not this. I checked it with my app. Wild Morning Glory (Bind Weed, but it’s not quite such fairy like name). A bit further along a few more, then more and more!

My photo doesn’t really do it justice, but the towpath looked like a fairy had scattered flowers along its length, so pretty. I’ve always referred to the top end of the Chesterfield as a fairy wood, but they seem to be further down now too.

Blackberries are ripening in the hedgerows. I must start to carry a container or a bag to pick them whilst Oleanna catches me up. Some of them were really huge today and so sweet.

I passed a chap watching dragonflies in the reeds. The canal was so clear it brought back memories of when Frank was with us spotting giant fish. The shape of the canal bed very clear, covered in lettuce. A boat came towards me, the water would now be cloudy.

As the towpath turns a right angle towards Drakeholes Tunnel there was a rustic fence, planks held up on chunky branches, then a little gate made with twigs. More fairies.

I sat and waited for Oleanna and my lift through the tunnel. Time to catch up with Frank, no answer. Time to turn down the offer from a friend of more sock yarn, my bottom drawer is still really rather full of it.

Through Drakeholes our first tunnel of the year! All 154 yards of it. It’ll be our second tunnel too, but will it end up being our last one of 2025?

Round the steep bend we pulled in between two boats. This would do us for the day. A late lunch for us and four hours shore leave for Tilly. I knitted and Mick watched the cycling and cricket. A couple of boats came past, one pulling up behind us with two big dogs on the stern. Mick walked up to chat to them as Tilly was out, but it was dingding time. The Huskies were put inside and I did my very best mad cat woman. I got a response from the tall grasses in the field meaning Tilly came pretty quickly. Popping out from the friendly cover just after the chap on the boat had said something about how aloof cats can be. Excuse me, I always come when called. It’s just that sometimes it takes me a couple of hours to make the journey! Once she was inside the woofers could have their towpath freedom.

2 locks, 3.1 miles, 1 weed hatch visit, 6 moving boats, 1 slow cruise, 1stone 11 lbs too light, 2 outsides, 16524899765 fairy flowers, 1 fairy gate, 51 brisk minutes, 1 sock might need frogging, 3 juicy blackberries, 1 Frank catch up, 1 big vat of dhal and 4 onion bhajis.

https://what3words.com/dives.wizard.importers

I’ll Race You! 22nd July

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Basin Bridge to Rural Log 2 day Mooring, CHesterfield Canal.

A dry morning even if it was quite grey. Tilly had some shore leave, by the time she came we’d had our breakfast and started to get ready for the off. Our supplies required a stock up so we pootled up along the canal to find the bollards we both remembered where no overnight mooring is allowed, but the mooring is handily positioned for the shops.

The first bollards were not the one’s we were thinking of, they were a lock landing. Yes we could pull back a touch, but maybe where we were thinking of was above the two locks. The key of power and a windlass was requested and I went ahead to set the bottom lock.

Signs on the lock gates ask to not let swans into the lock. Above were a Mum and Dad with three cygnets, were these the ones being referred to? They had to be. Not much room for them between the two locks, but they seemed content enough.

As Oleanna got to a point where Mick could get off I signalled that I was going to walk ahead to set the next lock. A nod from Mick to agree, I walked ahead. The next chamber was just about empty just a small amount of water needed adjusting to level it with the pound below. I then opened the gate and waited for Mick to bring Oleanna out of the lock below and close up behind.

Mum and the kids were heading my way, slowly but surely. I closed the gate and would only open it when Oleanna got close, we know how sneaky swans can be getting into locks and then being obstinate about getting out again. The plan worked well and we rose with no swans. Above another swan family came along to meet us. This is why the signs were on the lock gates, two families living close together, best to keep them apart for all concerned.

An M on our map, we pulled in, still not the location of bollards we’d remembered. We headed for the shops. Now to visit the butchers or not? If we did we’d have to buy some lamb steaks for Misterton Lamb, but that requires the oven to be on for an hour, not really the right thing to do on a warm summers evening. We’ll hope for a cooler day on the way back.

Our cruising plans a little bit up in the air, a possible rendez vous and a meeting with panto set builders on the cards. How far should we carry on up the Chesterfield? Do we need to do a sprint to better rail connections. As we shopped an email arrived assisting with decisions. The rendez vous sadly won’t be happening due to water levels and family commitments, maybe if water levels improve in a month or two we’ll be able to meet up. The set building meeting, the builders not able to do the first available date, so we’ve another two weeks to get to better transport links. Maybe we should see how far we can get up the Chesterfield, take Oleanna onto new waters?

After lunch we planned our mooring for the day. We untied and then ‘I’ll race you!’. Me on foot and Mick and Tilly bringing Oleanna. I gave them a couple of feet head start, but knew who’d win. Apart from our little trip up the Chesterfield in April we’ve been on rivers or big wide deep canals. Oleanna able to swim along far faster then I could walk. Here the canal is narrow, despite it’s wide locks (at the moment), the depth is shallow. Trying to use extra revs just slows you down, so a steady speed is required, my steady brisk speed is much quicker.

We soon came across the bollards we’d been thinking of. Only two, closely spaced, serious innies to moor there.

Back in April I walked ahead looking for a mooring for us before the next winding hole. Back then I could see over the reeds, today there was no sign of any of the places we’d tried to moor, the undergrowth now over my head in most places.

At the winding hole I carried on walking, after the next bridge I started to recall places along the canal, a bit hazy now as it was nine years ago on NB Lillyanne.

On the offside an industrial area, piles of stuff, a couple of old chimneys, wagons, decaying portacabins. Under a tree sat two figures, they’ve been there a long time, their clothing decaying around their bones.

Huge sheets of piling stood up from the earth, part painted rusty white, a marina under construction, it’s been like that for quite a while!

Fields golden, if a bit soggy were soon followed by straw rolos. The plants at the waterside interesting. Somehow, now away from the waterways with the big skies there are more minute things to look at, slowing my progress slightly.

Up ahead I could see where we wanted to moor, two boats already in residence. I paced out the gap, plenty of room for us. A glance at the Nebo app and I could see where Oleanna was. I stood for a good ten minutes waiting her arrival. Something kept us from getting into the side, but we coped and tied off, the back doors flung open for Tilly.

This was a good mooring when we stopped here before. Tilly ended up staying out late! That was in the days before stamps of approval were awarded at moorings, today one was certain to be pawed out.

Time was spent being a theatrical landlady, sorting out the next arrivals and departures in Scarborough. A mooring for Oleanna was sought and achieved. Theatrical digs needed extra confirmation for myself for panto, landladies and admin staff getting their wires crossed. No time left for much else in the day.

2 locks, 3.3 miles, 59 minutes brisk walking, 1 box wine, 1 red pepper, 6 bananas, 3 lodgers sorted, 1 mooring obtained, 1 small double room just fine, 2 extra weeks to cruise, 1 rendez vous postponed, 2 salmon fillets, 1 big fat Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

https://what3words.com/rooting.bookmark.kebab

Soggy Southbound. 21st July

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Keadby Visitor Moorings to West Stockwith Basin Bridge

Not the best nights sleep sadly. I was aware of all sorts, but had finally managed to drift off by the time the put put of NB Delhi and Python came past heading for the bridge, it was still cool enough for them to go through at around 6am. In fact it was still 15C mid morning as NB Puddle Duck appeared and pulled in on the off side.

Over the last few days we’ve had a chat with the Lock Keeper at Keadby. Mark moving our booking every day to the next one and saying he’d inform West Stockwith of the change due to being held up at Vazon. Today we confirmed our booking for today and then called West Stockwith to confirm with them too.

The cruisers all moved up to the bollards so they could sit out together, we nudged up to the waterpoint to top up our tank. Items were moved into the shower to have a clear well deck, then an early lunch, just as well as the Lock Keeper called saying he thought the tide would be early. There was a boat just about to come up the lock, so could we be ready for when he opened the road bridge for them.

Final checks, life jackets, charts, etc. We were ready for when the bridge opened and swapped places with the boat. The tide was on it’s way in already, the bottom gates of the lock opened at 13:55. Originally we’d been told we’d be sharing the lock with a widebeam, but they’d not shown up, maybe stuck behind a stoppage on the Aire and Calder. So we were on our own, no buddy boat out on the river until the cruisers caught us up.

With low amounts of fresh coming down the river we had to be very cautious about following the red line. A week or so ago a boat heading for Keadby Lock hadn’t crossed over the river towards the east bank and had found themselves stuck on a sand bank until the next incoming tide lifted them off.

This is the third time we’ve done the tidal Trent this year and most sights are now very familiar.

The few bridges, the old windmills now converted into houses.

The cheeky pigeons. Owston Ferry’s two pubs.

With each turn of the river the skies gradually worked themselves from being quite blue, sun cream required when we set off, to being very grey almost black. Thankfully the river seemed to be doing a good job at turning us away from the really dark clouds. I kept quiet about it, hoping it would stay dry until we were moored up for the day. Mick however had to open his big mouth! ‘It’s going to rain!’ So it did!

We were making good progress and as we rounded the bend at Gunthorpe Mick radioed ahead to West Stockwith. I think we were going to be earlier than they’d expected, so they’d get the lock ready for us. Would we like a bow line to help us into the lock? Mick was fairly sure we’d be okay without, not really understanding what help it would be. As the radio was put down we both reached for our waterproofs as the rain started to persist. I could stand with my back to it, Mick couldn’t!

When to move through the boat to the bow? I opted to wait for us to have entered the lock. The rain was now going sideways as the white house appeared beyond the lock. When was Mick going to turn us to face the flow? We’ve not approached West Stockwith from downstream before, it makes for a tighter turn in.

He started to turn as we got close to the lock. The lock is on a bend in the river so getting turned needed to happen before the bank got too close. Would he need a nudge from the bow thruster, he’d changed the fuse this morning. Round we came. Now when to start the turn into the lock. We drifted backwards. The turn in needing revs to get the stern round enough so as not to catch the upstream side of the lock mouth, not too much to end up hitting the downstream side with the bow.

One man and his boat. He brought her round without touching any side, getting a big thumbs up from the Lockie. It was now safe to go through the boat to grab a rope before they started to bring us up.

The rain was now torrential! Water running in rivers down inside waterproof sleeves. Trousers proving just how many litres of water they could soak up. Crutch straps from life jackets doing a good job of directing water to help soak into your underwear. Oleanna rose up, we thanked the lock keepers, but didn’t hang around for a chat. Instead we headed straight through the bridge and pulled in on the first bit of armco.

But where was the nappy pin? Not been used since early April at this mooring. I managed to find a chain in amongst items in the shower and succeeded in not drenching our bed as I went past it twice. The towpath was it’s own canal, three inches deep, squelchy shoes would now fill up.

Tied up we both stripped down to our t-shirt and pants, wet items hung to drip dry under the pram hood. A warm shower each and dry clothes all welcome as the sun came back out and Tilly busied herself down the bank.

I could make us some dhal, or we could head to the White Hart for some food. The later option won. I checked the blog post from nearly two years ago when we’d last eaten here. We’d had to wait quite a while to be served, but the food had been worth the wait. Today they had a table of 25 in for a 40th, we’d have to wait. Thankfully it was worth it again. We both opted for the same as we’d had last time, Fish and chips and the steak and ale pie which is most definitely home made. Very nice indeed. We opted to return back to Oleanna for our second glass of wine, well we had to celebrate finally starting to make our way southwards.

2 locks, 13.9 miles, 1 wind, 1 full water tank, 2 hours to Stockwith, 4 cruisers 30 minutes behind, 1 lovely cruise, last 20 minutes not so, 2 sodden to their pants boaters, 1 hour shore leave made the most of, 18 minutes brisk walk to the pub and back, 1 fish and chips, 1 pie and chips, 1 boat finally headed south.

https://what3words.com/upcoming.producers.quilt

Waiting Day (3). 20th July

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Vazon Sliding Bridge

Awake early again, just in case. Mick went to see the Signal Keeper, the lady from NB Early Rise was there having a chat. The temperature wasn’t low enough. The keeper would be on again tonight, he had our numbers and would call should the temperature of the bridge reach 15C. Back in bed we snoozed some more.

I’d bought some bacon the other day to go in the quiche so the rest of that needed eating up, it was accompanied by the usual items and very nice it was too. Topics on the Geraghty zoom this morning included Rain, ‘Enry’s goats, singing bathrooms, Hamilton and Mole Hill Woman Lucky Dips.

**The cat doesn’t seem to work so we’ve resorted to fly paper, but that doesn’t seem to work either!**

With more rain forecast for the afternoon I headed out on my walk. Across the manual swing bridge, Reece in the signal box pressed the button to lift the barriers at the level crossing and on I walked between power stations. The first Keadby Power Station was built in the late 1940’s originally coal fired, the coal being transported by road and rail, but not by canal. The power station was so far out of town that accommodation needed to be provided, half the work force moved to Keadby.

At the main road I turned northwards to see how far the village continued, not very far, but there was an interesting information board. After WW2, still during rationing, everyone was allowed to keep a pig but they had to declare it and hand over their rations in return for bacon. Most people kept a pig, but didn’t hand over their rations. The locals were alarmed to hear that someone from the Ministry of Food was coming to check who owned what livestock in the village. The local bridge man was put on look out duty. When the official arrived the pub was called and everyone went home to let their pigs out, they were roaming all over the village.

The official could see the pigs and styes in gardens but didn’t know who owned which pig. When asked the locals just shrugged their shoulders, so the official was none the wiser and caught the train back to London. Another phone call was made and the villagers busied themselves reclaiming their pigs.

By the services were two new boats. NB Delhi and NB Python the Chesterfield Canal boat, they had come from West Stockwith yesterday and are on a working party trip up to Sheffield. They spent the day with a big team of people tidying up around Keadby Lock and also inside it. This included dropping down in the lock and weeding the outer walls onto the river. Tomorrow their aim is to tidy up around Thorne Services, if they can get there. What a brilliant thing to be doing even if it meant they got really quite wet in the process!

I selected yarn for the next pair of ‘Jazzy’ socks and then sat down to weave the ends in on the previous pair. This is better done during daylight hours despite it being very grey outside with patches of torrential rain. As we watched a program about Sycamore Gap we heard some noises. We looked up a cruiser was arriving followed by a second one. Someone hopped off and opened the manual swing bridge. Mick opened the hatch to check they knew the railway bridge wasn’t working. It felt like they did and were going to moor in between the bridges until it opened, but once they realised we and the boat behind were also waiting they pulled back and moored on the other side. There were now four cruisers all out on a fortnights trip from Great Heck.

The BBC, our weather app on phones, Windy were all checked. If there was to be a night where the temperature dropped enough then tonight must surely be it. In fact it might be that we’d not have to wait until the early hours, maybe midnight, maybe 1am. We’d considered getting all the boaters together, everyone wrapping up in as many layers as possible and standing outside the signal box doing our best to persuade Network Rail that the temperature was really cold.

We had a beer, our evening meal with a glass or two of wine. My phone fully charged we headed to bed. Would we get a call?

0 locks, 0 miles, 43 brisk minutes, 2 more boats, 4 more boats, 11 waiting boats, 1 work party, 1 very smart lock, 2 many annoying flies, 1 cat lacking in her duties, pair 101 finished, pair 102 cast on, 1 soggy WET day.

Waiting Day (2) 19th July

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Vazon Swing Bridge

No phone call in the early hours last night, we’d not expected one, even though we both woke up just in case. I think the temperature got down to about 17C, not sure now as we’re constantly looking at different forecasts just in case one is in our favour.

Tilly headed off into the friendly cover despite it doing it’d best to rain. We’d become complacent leaving the back doors open to improve the breeze through the boat when of course Tilly returned with her mouth full. Thankfully Tilly is not like our previous second mate Houdini whom you’d have had a cat-in-hells chance of picking up in such a situation. Tilly was deposited out on the stern deck and the doors firmly closed!

Mick bobbed up to the signal box for a chat with the keeper. Reece wasn’t aware that the bridge can now be opened no matter what time of day, just so long as the temperature is 15C or lower. He asked Mick to forward him the CRT notice and he would check with York. A while later he gave me a call, Mick was correct and the new information about the bridge hadn’t been passed on to him and possibly other signallers.

The rain today was going to be torrential or so we’d been led to believe. As it was just spitting I decided to head out to see if I could find a newspaper, knowing our chosen flavour of print was very unlikely to be on the shelves of one of the two shops in Keadby. As I approached the bridge the red light went out, Reece had spotted me and I’d timed my arrival well with a suitable gap in the trains.

This morning Keadby Road Swing Bridge must have worked as now, sat on the visitor moorings was NB Drunken Duck and a small cruiser who’d come off the river. No obvious signs of life to say hello so I carried on to find the shops.

Oh those chips smelt nice from the chippy. I wonder if it’s the only chippy in town?!

There was a selection of papers in the first shop, and as I’d expected not of our flavour. I walked on to the next shop where there were none to be had. Oh well at least I’d got out for a walk.

**The yellow is where you walk when there are no trains**

There was a train coming as I approached the bridge, Reece could be seen gesticulating ‘Sorry’ as the siren sounded for what felt like an eternity, but it did give me chance to spot the sunflowers growing in a field on our side of the tracks.

***It was fun this morning, now it’s just WET!***

We’d a new neighbour. Mick had nudged up to make room for NB Lady Phoenix and he and the owner were having a good chin wag. It was now starting to get that little bit wetter, so we retired inside our boats and settled down for the remainder of the day.

This afternoon’s knitting viewing was The True History of the Kelly Gang (2019). A fictionalised account of how Ned Kelly changed from being a compassionate boy to a gang leader. The end of the film is quite gory when there is a big shoot out, but Ned dies like a Kelly.

Rain hammered down most of the afternoon, but then cleared into the evening leaving us with quite an atmospheric fog hanging around the power stations. Will today’s rain have helped bring the temperature of the bridge down enough? We’ll see.

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 damp and WET day, 4 boats off the river, pair 101 knitted, 1 film, 0 newspaper, 1 seriously rationalised pile of work stuff, final 1/3rd of the quiche eaten.

Waiting Day (1). 18th July

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Vazon Swing Bridge

We both woke early, would the temperature have dipped sufficiently for Vazon Drawbridge/Sliding/Railway Bridge to move out of our way? Mick put some clothes on and walked over to the signal box, a different signaller from yesterday. Here he met up with a chap from NB Early Rise, who is waiting on the other side of the bridge. A phone call had already been made to York, the temperature not low enough even at the coolest part of the day. Chats were had, then Mick returned and joined me back in bed for some more shut eye, after all it was only 5am.

Over breakfast we considered our options. Should we wait here by the swing bridge, close to the trains kerchunk kerchunking over the sliding bridge through day and night? Or should we try to find a different mooring? One where Tilly could go out further away from the bridge. We decided to have a pootle to see if we could find anywhere. But first Mick walked up to the signal box and made sure they had our phone number for when the temperature dips enough and the bridge opens.

There had been hi-vis people at the bridge this morning along with Northern Power Grid. The domestic electrics were off in the signal box and had been mended. The hi-vis people were from Network Rail and they had been busy painting parts of the bridge white, this will help reflect some of the heat away from the structure. Now as we untied I spotted several blue t-shirts, CRT t-shirts. Hands were shook between orange and blue, might they be about to do a test opening? No chance, the temperature way above the 15C.

We winded and headed back towards Thorne, maybe, just maybe there might be enough depth for Oleanna back close to Pilfrey Bridge, not too far away, but just far enough. There was a lack of blanket weed making the canal obvious to those with four legs and feet, no rocks in view. But sadly no matter how much we tried the bow or stern didn’t get to within jumping off closeness of the bank. We opted to return from where we’d come. When the back doors opened up again, Tilly was most peeved that all we’d done was shake the outside up a bit!

Mick headed for a walk and a possible earwig at what was being said at the bridge between orange and blue people. Other than stopping to tie a shoe lace he didn’t find an excuse to loiter within ear shot for long and ended up going to say hello to NB Early Rise instead.

Once the meeting had finished the blue bods walked back towards Keadby Lock and stopped for a chat. There was quite a high up person in amongst them. CRT are putting a lot of pressure on Network Rail to get the bridge working for boaters more reliably. They are hoping that the safe working temperature might be raised, even by just one or two degrees. Sections of the bridge had now been painted white and a big light installed so should passage be needed when it’s dark there is now light.

Network Rail are working towards publishing a weekly weather report for the bridge, noting windows where the temperature will be at a suitable level for it to operate. Apparently the chap who oversees Vazon for the railway, is in charge of around 9000 bridges, and Vazon takes up half his time!

So we just have to sit and wait, ready to snatch the first opportunity to go through.

My migraine improved enough to go for a steady walk. I’d spotted a couple of paths when we were here last, checked them out on Google maps and set off to cross the railway, then the first ditch and to walk round and back through a wood.

To cross Vazon, as a pedestrian, requires you to press a plunger and wait for a red light and siren to stop, meaning that the gate is now unlocked. If the siren and light stay on, there is a train coming, which there was on my way out. Once it’s clear you zigzag your way across the tracks which go diagonally across the sliding bridge. It’s well worth looking at by foot even if you have to cross at speed rather than loiter on your way across.

The first track I aimed for had a very protective Cob and his swan family, so I looped back round and walked through the wood to a track and up to the main road. The tide was on it’s way out but still pretty high, would any boats be making their way down stream right now?

**Pouring water on the road bridge to cool it down**

At Keadby Swing Bridge, the road bridge just by the lock, two Council employees climbed out of the van and walked to the bridge. Here they started up a generator and started to pump water onto the bridge, most probably where it pivots. There was evidence of them having done this earlier in the day. It turns out that at least one boat had been headed for Keadby today, they’d been told to moor up in Gainsborough overnight as there was a problem with this bridge too! Here’s hoping it’s sorted by the morning for them.

After all the excitement at the bridges, even if we didn’t manage to get going, it was time for an easier afternoon. Blimey it was hot and sticky inside, more so outside.

Mick pottered on with a few jobs, adding new hooks to fenders, wrapping wire round the yellow water connector whilst Tilly and I watched Denmark (2019) and knitted. Denmark is a bittersweet comedy about a down-on-his-luck Welshman who travels to Europe with a crazy goal, to get himself arrested and sent to a Danish prison where the beds are warm and the water is hot. It’s a gentle British film, with cool outdoor scenes which were welcome today.

Our only neighbour here had been absent during the day. He’d left his woofer shut up inside his make shift boat. We’d been getting quite concerned as the howls were becoming progressively more pathetic. Mick had wondered over to see what he might be able to see, which wasn’t much from a safe distance, we’ve been aware of this chap for a while. Then thankfully the owner returned, beer in hand and quite merry. The door to his boat was flung open and his large dog surged for the bank, all four legs crossed. After dancing a jig or two he packed up all he wanted, bundled his dog back onboard and frantically untied and set off into the sunset. So apart from the trains we should have a quiet evening now.

0 locks, 1.3 miles, 2 winds, 4 blue, 3 hi-vis, 1 sticky day, 0.5 sock, 1 film, 1 mended dishwasher, 2 fenders, 2 broken bridges, 2 more hi-vis, 1 jig, 1 woofer on our radar, 1 boat setting off into the sunset, 1 good place to smoke!

Narrowboat Oleanna

Travels of Narrowboat Oleanna

Category Archives: Boat cats

Ruination. 29th July

North By North East. 28th July

Phoebe Anna Traquair. 27th July

Fish Finger Nerds. 25th July

Fairies Footpath. 23rd July

I’ll Race You! 22nd July

Soggy Southbound. 21st July

Waiting Day (3). 20th July

Waiting Day (2) 19th July

Waiting Day (1). 18th July