A more rural mooring was required today, hopefully one with a bit of shade as the temperatures are due to rise again. With sunscreen applied we pushed off and were soon heading under Huntingdon Old Bridges and the A1307, not much to see of the town as we passed.
Now we followed the river round another huge meadow. Islands here there and everywhere just to keep the navigator on her toes.
Godmanchester Lock sat empty and waiting for us. The EA mooring alongside the top side was filled with cruisers, we hoped they had all congregated here and had left the moorings further upstream for us. As Oleanna rose in the lock another cruiser arrived to go down, friends of some of the crowd already around the lock. We chatted about moorings and how Brampton was empty when they came past, phew! Then the subject turned to Bedford River Festival which is in a couple of weeks.
The river carries on doing a huge bend around the meadow, the railway line crossing shortly before the moorings we were after. On Google earth it looked like there might only be space for one or two boats, but clicking on someone’s photos (River View) there seemed to be a long length of mooring available.
As we approached all I could see was a heron, the moorings, as reported by the cruiser were empty! Not much tree cover for shade, but we nosed ourselves up towards a willow tree, the end of the day we might just get some shade.
Inside the curtains were drawn on the port side, starboard side open as the sun was just avoiding that side of the boat. The doors were opened and Tilly headed off to explore. The nearest Willow had some attention but was deemed to be not so interesting as the one OVER THERE!
Late morning we were joined by a couple of cruisers, then a narrowboat pulled up asking if we’d nudge up to make room. I paced out the gap for him, it was at least fifteen foot longer than us so even a 70ft boat would not have to squeeze in. Luckily for Tilly she was spotted by the chap who said he’d keep his dog on a lead.
Mid afternoon and it was time for Mick to head off to catch a train northwards, a visit to Scarborough for an overnight and cut the grass. He strode off across the field, reaching a gate on the other side, only to find he needed an EA Abloy key to open it.
I set up an office under the big willow to re-read the panto script, making notes and hopefully having ideas as I went. This was all going very well until a cruiser pulled up late afternoon just in front of us. It would have been rude not to chat to the new neighbours especially as they are thinking of buying a narrowboat to explore the canals. The last twenty pages of panto will have to wait for tomorrow, at least I’d found lots of reference photos that may prove useful.
1 lock, 1.96 miles, 1 heron, 0 neighbours to 6, 3 swimmers, 7 hours, 2 woofers, 1 outdoor office, 0 help from the feline assistant, 3 trains, 1 very clean house, 20 pages to go, 211 reference images, 0.5 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.
As we got near to rolling up the covers this morning we could hear boats moving. The one furthest away on the moorings winded and headed towards the lock, soon followed by the other two narrowboats who were travelling together. We carried on knowing that we’d have a wait at the locks.
The first two boats breasted up on the lock landing, the next hovered behind them and we sat hovering even further behind. Two cruisers came down the lock, then it was time to fill the lock.
Houghton Lock is another D shaped lock. The entrance only wide enough for one narrow boat to enter at a time, but after checking in our Imray guide we knew it could hold three narrowboats side by side. The two boats on the lock landing made their way in, the chap from the third boat pulled in and walked up to the lock with a windlass, we then got waved in to make use of the middle of the lock.
We chatted away as the lock gates were closed behind us and the guillotine gate raised at the other end. The two boats travelling together were from the Macclesfield Canal out for the summer, hoping they’d be able to get back onto the summit pound before winter.
We’ve been three abreast in a lock before at Keadby, Limehouse and possibly Cromwell. Today it felt a touch more cosy than before despite there being plenty of room for us all. The first boat came out the lock and pulled in to help his mate with the lock, which meant we had now leapfrogged all three boats.
Above the lock we spotted a few places we’d have been able to pull in to visit the mill yesterday, none of them official moorings. But we were glad we’d got to see some of Hemingford Grey and been able to stretch our legs.
A few boat yards. Long gardens to far away houses, a lot of them having work done to them.
A riverside church where a couple sat on the bench and waved.
Two games of Boules going on. Measurements being taken to see who’d won.
Not much further on we pulled in alongside a park, the closest mooring to Sainsburys in Huntingdon. Just after midday, the TV was tuned in and the news left on for the expected speech from Downing Street.
The Mac boys soon arrived and managed to tuck themselves in behind us. The longer boat needing to be next to land as he had animals. His black and white cat soon coming for a nosy as the other boat breasted up. All three boats Tyler Wilson shells, one of a similar age to Oleanna, he’d had the same problem with his gas locker hinges as we’d had.
Lunch and a shopping trip for us to stock up on fresh food for the coming week, by the time we got back to Oleanna the Mac boys had done their shopping and headed off to moor out in the country.
Tilly was allowed out, the road hopefully being busy enough to keep her away from it and there was plenty of friendly cover to keep her busy nearer the river. I got on with reading Act 2 of panto. Another scene with a big ship, I loved my ship from last year, how am I going to make this years different?
Queen Rat got her comeuppance and Whittington the cat was made Mayor of London. Tilly wonders how Larry at No 10 feels today with all the press camped outside his front door.
A much noisier mooring than we’ve gotten used to of late. We had someone tentatively knock on the roof as I was cooking our evening meal, they weren’t expecting anyone to say ‘HELLO!’ from inside. A quiet apology was followed by the lady leaning down to the kitchen window ad wishing us a pleasant evening.
1 lock, 2.53 miles, 4 in a queue, 3 in a lock, 1st boat, 3 boats, 1 dog, 2 cats, 2 boxes wine, 1 bag of peppers, 6 eggs, Act 2, 1 big ship, 1 jungle, 1 tower of London, 1 resignation, 1 Larry for Prime Minister.
Houghton EA Mooring to Hemingford GOBA Mooring to Houghton EA Mooring.
Last night we decided we’d head back towards Hemingford Grey to moor for the day and our visit to Houghton Mill. We knew where the mooring was and that it existed, where as if we’d have gone up the lock we might have been in a situation where no mooring opportunity showed itself.
After our cuppa in bed we rolled up the covers headed a short way up stream where the river was a touch wider. Mick then made use of the current and wind to help turn the bow round to face down stream. We pootled our way to the meadow and pulled in where there was maybe a touch too much goose poo, but it would do us.
With breakfast out of the way we set off to walk the mile and a half to the mill. On reaching about a quarter of the way Mick said he’d not got the National Trust cards, would they allow us in just with our booking confirmation email? Possibly, but he turned back to the boat. I said I’d walk onwards, we’d left just about the right amount of time to walk, would we make it in time?
I slowed my pace, took in the wild flowers on the verges. All the thatched roofs had straw finials, some quite amusing. Had Mick got back to the boat by now? Should I quicken my pace again, would we reach the Mill in time for the tour?
Mick appeared on the Brompton, I should have carried on walking at a normal pace and not slowed so he could catch me up. I had to quicken my pace now, the mill only open for tours on Wednesdays and the weekend, if we missed our slot then that would be it!
Thankfully we managed to arrive in time to stash the bike somewhere and have a quick comfort break, still with a couple of minutes to spare! Phew!!!
In 974AD the Manor of Houghton and the Mill were given to Ramsey Abbey, all the local farmers used the mill and a cut was taken off as payment, a mulcher, for the Abbey. The mill was kept very busy and the Abbey became very affluent. New sluice gates were added to the river to increase water headed to the mill, but this caused flooding in the village. After ten years of campaigning the villagers got their way and the river was returned to it’s old course.
After the dissolution of the monasteries, Ramsey Abbey was flattened, the mill was still seen to be very profitable and was taken over by the crown. Ownership passed to the Earls of Manchester who leased out the mill as a commercial concern.
In the 18th Century there was a rapid development in mill technology. The original mill had had one water wheel this was increased to three at it’s peak. Inside ten pairs of stones milled the flour operated by eighteen people. In 1850 the mill was run by the Brown and Goodman families and was producing a ton of premium white flour every hour. This flour supposedly improved if left for five to six weeks, just the right amount of time for it to have headed down stream to Kings Lynn, round the coast to the Thames estuary and in to London where it would reach the best price!
But in the later part of the 19th Century technology took milling away from mill stones and Houghton just couldn’t compete with steam driven mills. The repeal of the Corn Laws brought in cheaper foreign grain which was milled at the ports to help feed the growing work force of the Industrial Revolution. Houghton Mill moved to milling animal feed and the work force reduced down to two.
On the retirement of the last miller in 1928 the mill closed and the water wheels were removed. In 1929 the local council bought the mill, it was soon earmarked for redevelopment. In 1934 Houghton Mill Restoration Committee leased the mill and sublet it to the newly formed Youth Hostel Association, providing accommodation for fifty people. In 1938 the committee managed to buy the mill and then handed it over to the National Trust for £1, the same as the original mill had cost to build.
In 1983 the mill was opened to the public, repairs were made and milling could resume with use of the original stones powered by an electric motor. Millennium funding was then sought to reinstate the water wheel.
Sadly due to the mill having to close during the pandemic the water wheel was left idle for too long. The wood that sat in the water swelled soaking up the water and the wood at the top dried out. Once they got it started again the balance was seriously off! They were recommended to turn the water wheel as often as possible which had been helping, but sadly right now the wheel is in need of some tlc. The tour was very informative and well worth doing, thank you Sue from NB Cleddau for reminding me to check the days it was open.
A look around the village brought so many more chocolate box cottages and finials. Ducks, boxing hares, I couldn’t stop taking photos!
Then a round route brought us down Green Lane where both sides of the road were filled with fantastic Hollyhocks. Wow! We got chatting to a lady who is responsible for a third of them, they are wanting to rename the road Hollyhock Lane. She offered us some seeds, but the seed heads weren’t ready yet, maybe if we stop on our way back we might collect a few and leave them places to cheer up people next year.
Back at Oleanna we quickly pushed off again. The meadow as nice as it was really wasn’t suitable or Tilly with the number of woofers around. We winded and headed back upstream pulling in where we’d left five hours earlier, our end space still empty. In fact we had the island to ourselves for a couple of hours before three more narrowboats turned up, Tilly ended up having to share her kingdom with another black and white cat.
Act 1 of panto was read, props and setting notes highlighted with my neon pens left from #unit21. I did have to stop just as Queen Rat was proclaiming that the panto was over and the audience should all go home, she’d crowned herself Queen of England and wasn’t budging. We watched the news and caught up on events in London. I think real life events may run a similar course to those of Queen Rats in Act 2, but without so many belly laughs. Tomorrow will tell!
0 locks, 1.42 miles, 2 winds, 2 cards forgotten, 3 minutes spare, 10 stones, 3 waterwheels, 1 wonky wheel after the pandemic, I blog problem possibly solved, 1 Queen about to loose her thrown, 1 silent Whittington singing for the future, 1 country waiting.
The Norris Museum opened in 1933, purpose built to house the collection of Herbert Ellis Norris who left it and money to establish a museum and library in St Ives, a museum for the people of Huntingdonshire. A recreation of his study stands at one end of the museum.
The museum traces the history of St Ives from the Romans, through to Medieval times when the great fair was held every Easter, one of four main wool fairs in England, traders flocked from right across the country and others came from abroad. Mick recited the following rhyme to me the other day, although it could just as easily be relating to the other St Ives.
As I was going to St Ives, I met a man with seven wives, Each wife had seven sacks, Each sack had seven cats, Each cat had seven kits: Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were there going to St Ives?
By the end of the 13th Century fairs were loosing their popularity in favour of places where goods were traded all year round, Flemish weavers out-competed the areas cloth making industry. Then followed poor harvests and the Black Death which killed half the population.
The Anglo Saxons settled in the area and founded the village of Slepe which became St Ives. Ramsey Abbey was one of the richest in the country and with a wooden bridge across the Great Ouse the town prospered. Oliver Cromwell was born in Huntingdon and for a time was a tenant farmer in St Ives.
There were freezes (good for skating), floods, a great fire which burnt down a large proportion of the town. Mechanical methods in farming brought about unemployment of farm labourers, the landowners grew richer whilst the workers rioted.
Outside in the courtyard a wonderful wisteria covers the building and lavender bushes line the paths. The museum may be small but it is looked after by very enthusiastic people, we nearly spent as long chatting to one chap as we did looking at the displays.
Time to move the boat, Mick umphed the stern out and we were soon reversing out of the arm. We winded and then headed over the other side of the river and up another arm alongside the Norris Museum to fill with water. Here were NB Casper and NB Mosi-y-Tunya. Brian and Ann on Casper invited us to breast up so that we could fill with water, the pressure not the best so there was plenty of time to have a chat with them. We seem to have a lot in common with them, Yorkshire and theatre. It was good to actually have chance to talk to you today and our paths will cross again upstream somewhere.
Backwards down the arm as there’s nowhere to wind, we then turned and headed upstream making note of the nice GOBA mooring on the outskirts of town. Up Hemingford Lock, another D shaped lock and past Hemingford Grey. Heather had mentioned the other day about the Manor House. Not quite so easy to just turn up as you need to book to go round the house and this is done either by email or phone. We’ll think about it on our way back.
We aimed for the Houghton EA Moorings. I’d spotted that they were really quite close to Houghton Mill a National Trust property. Last night I had booked us onto a tour round the mill for first thing on Wednesday morning, it’s only open weekends and Wednesdays. With a long stretch of moorings we tucked ourselves at the end and let Tilly out, four hours of shore leave.
During the afternoon we discovered that the blog had reached it’s maximum size! I’d been having difficulty uploading photos, so left it with Mick to see what had happened and see if he could sort things. We really can’t have used 20 GB this year!
I decided to head off for a walk, see where we needed to go in the morning and have a nosy around some of the islands that make up the area. The one we were moored opposite was being mown and the hay was rapidly being bailed up.
I walked with purpose to the other end of the island where the path petered out. Hang on!
I checked my map.
We were on an island, with no means of getting off it without a boat. We have a boat, but there is nowhere else to moor Oleanna close to the mill. Oh B**er! I walked back and chatted to a lovely couple on a cruiser who knew the area very well. We could maybe go up the lock and pull in where a boat used to moor, they pointed out roughly where they meant as boats went past. Or we could tie up on the lock landing for our visit. Or we could go back and moor at Hemingford Grey Meadow and walk from there in the morning. Hmmm, what to do?
During the afternoon I’d had a much awaited for email. My Panto script has arrived! It is now printed out and awaiting a first read, all very exciting!
1 lock, 2.55 miles, 2 reverses, 2 winds, 3 familiar boats, 1 museum, 1 full water tank, 1 island mooring, 0 way off, 2 tours booked, 1 change of plan required, 1 ecstatic cat, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval, 1 panto script, 1 boater about to change into a designer.
Time to move on and let someone else enjoy this lovely mooring. Shortly before we pushed off two familiar narrowboats came past, NB Caspar and their friends. We’ve seen them down on the Relief Channel and at Waterbeach, would they get to the moorings in St Ives before us and fill them up? We hoped there’d still be space for us.
We pootled on along the river, the meadow stretching all the way along to Holywell where a narrowboat looked to be surrounded by cows. Here the river takes a bend to the South West, a council mooring sits invitingly in front of a collection of thatched cottages, more chocolate boxes required!
From the wide river with meadows on both sides we’d now entered a narrower channel, bordered by trees, sometimes hard to see too far ahead. The river was busier than we’ve seen it, plenty of boats on the move. Under an old railway bridge, now used by the Guided Busway which links Huntingdon to St Ives and Cambridge, sadly no bus came past as we went underneath.
We suspected we’d have a wait when we reached St Ives Lock due to the two narrowboats ahead of us. Sure enough they were both going up and another waiting to come down. I’d noticed on our map that this lock had vee gates at the top, similar to a River Nene lock, but would I need a windlass to open the paddles/slackers? I dug one out just in case.
Up at the lock the downhill boat had entered I opened up the control panel as they sorted ropes out. They were hoping to get about half way to Ely today. The guillotine gate, as with others, has an inbuilt timer delay. It will lift a few inches to help drain the lock then the timer kicks in. Here there is a visible timer, 4 minutes plus. By now Oleanna had been joined by three cruisers, would we all fit in the D shaped lock? The entrance to these locks are not wide enough for two narrowboats to come in side by side, yet once in the lock you can fit three boats side by side. The cruisers decided they’d rather lock up together and we should go ahead on our own. Mick pulled in, flung a rope up to a bollard as I closed the gate behind.
Following normal lock operation I opened the same side paddle as to Oleanna, who was on the long wall in line with the exit, I needed the windlass. At first this worked, holding her into the side. But then the current changed and started to push her over, lifting the other paddle didn’t do much to help. Next time if we’re on our own we’ll go into the D and see how that works.
The cruisers came up to help turn the lock round for them and we were on our way again. Not far now to St Ives. The spire of All Saints Church came first into view, soon followed by the converted mill. We could moor along the wall, but it seemed too busy for our liking and a high wall to clamber up.
Through St Ives Bridge with it’s chapel/toll house halfway and bridge arches stretching off into the distance, helping to keep the old road up above flooding land. Most of the arches are pointed, but two towards the west are rounded. These two arches were pulled down by Oliver Cromwell in 1645 and replaced by a drawbridge in case the Royalists attacked. They were rebuilt in 1716. The bridge used to take all manner of traffic until the bypass was built in1980, now pedestrians cross.
We dipped under the larger arch and made ready to turn into a short arm on the west side of the river. A cruiser and NB Caspar were just in the arm, a lady waved and then realised we were turning in, she grabbed hold of a rope quickly. They had pulled in with the intention to moor, but getting close to the bank had proved difficult, their friends had headed further upstream. As Caspar had started to reverse out they had picked up a chair on their prop which was proving to be an awkward thing to shift!
The arm proved to be shallow for us too. The bow coming close enough to jump off, but the stern staying out further than our plank would reach. With help from others we tied up and then went to see if we could help. Hacksaws were followed by crowbars, eventually their prop was freed and they headed off to join their friends. Our paths will no doubt cross again in the coming days.
Lunch whilst Tilly did her best to like our new mooring. The huge meadow looked interesting but without denser cover or trees she was put off somewhat. So she spent most of her time sitting on the back deck staring at it wishing it was a better outside!
A top up shop was required along with collection of a prescription in the centre of town. We arrived just as the market was closing up, most of what was still on display was tat that nobody needs in their lives. The wide street can certainly hold plenty of stalls, a shame we hadn’t arrived on a Farmers Market day, maybe we’ll try to time that for our return.
We walked through another market selling other peoples old possessions and headed to Waitrose. With some vouchers to use and only a few bits needed we hunted round for the reduced items and came away with a bag of fresh produce.
As much as Tilly tried to like our mooring again, it still failed for her. But as the sun started to dip towards the horizon the meadows made for a very pretty picture.
Brilliant, a Sausage Day, well that’s what She said it would be.
All the doors were opened whilst Tom cooked their morning dingding and I could come and go as I liked, I went for a couple of hours and had a very good time.No photographic evidence of what I got up to so that’s for me and my friends to know. I returned to Tom and She who were just sitting tipperty tapping, I had a snooze then went out again.
This time it was different! Huge big cows filled the outside. Today had just turned from a Sausage Day into a Beef Burger Day!
Cows smell and poo everywhere! They must have had a conversation with She as they wouldn’t let me near the tree that overhangs the river, I could have easily watched them from up there, but no! Instead I hid just out of view.
Tom came out when all the cows had gone, but the cows had taken the sun with them, so it was a touch chilly. We had quite a pleasant time, me doing my thing and Tom listening to cricket in his ears, that must be so uncomfortable.
Meanwhile She did some baking. She says if you click on the photo it will tell you how to make them.
We’ve had loads of boats come past us today. Some fast, some slow. Some big, some paddleboards. We’re glad we’d claimed our mooring early on yesterday.
Two inflatable canoes came past, a mother and daughter in one (quite competent and making good progress), the other with father and son (Dad reclined at an odd angle, son doing all the work). A while later when they returned there was a discussion going on about how far it was to get back, He said a mile, She said a fraction of a mile.
The back of the chaps inflatable didn’t seem to be that inflated anymore, he was still lying down, his and his son’s paddling only digging them deeper into the reeds on the otherside of the river from us. The son was obviously miffed at Dad who was excelling himself having a strop that you’d see in a toddler, he’d obviously not wanted to go canoeing in the first place! Discussions were on going about how they’d get back to land, ‘It’s a MILE!’ he said. ‘Well what do you think you’ll do?’ Mum asked. ‘I think we’ll swim’ came the reply. Very soon afterwards the reclined figure slipped into the water in a haruff sulky way.
Eventually the chaps both in the water clung onto the inflatable and trailed behind Mum. Dad kicking to aid movement, Mum shouting ‘Who ever is kicking STOP IT!‘
I said, ‘He’ll drown soon, if she holds his head under for long enough!’ I can hear the arguments in the car going home now.
The day had started off sunny, we’d defrosted food with a barbeque in mind, but had we miscalculated? We decided to battle on creating a wind break with our chairs and pop jumpers on, such a lovely mooring couldn’t be wasted.
As the charcoals turned white hot, the sun returned, the breeze subsided into a wonderful evening. Add into the mix the high pitched tweet of a Kingfisher darting up the river. Wonderful.
Then add another two Kingfishers darting back and forth in front of us, three all at once. Wow!
0 locks, 0 miles, 0 sausages, 1 rasher of bacon each, 0 burgers, 432 cows, 64 boats, 7 paddleboarders, 7 canoes, 1 lawnmower, 2 inflatables, 1 deflating, 40 year old sulking dad acting like a 2 year old, 1 Mum wondering why she married him, 9 hours turned into 10.5, 3 Kingfishers, 2 pork steaks, 4 veg kebabs, 11 cheese scones.
Sadly the Post Office had run out of our chosen Saturday newspaper by the time Mick had walked down there this morning, oh well we can make do with the internet version for another week!
As we had breakfast we filled the water tank which started to over flow shortly into the Geraghty Zoom. Topics this morning touched on Wimbledon, owls, and our visit to Wicken Fen. As soon as we’d signed off we were ready to move to a more cat friendly mooring for the weekend.
A cruiser had pulled in for a pit stop in front of us and shortly after we pushed off they did too, following us up the tame tidal section of the river to Brownshill Staunch (Lock). Mick waved them past, they overtook, their cruising speed greater than ours.
As we reached the lock it was obvious that they were waiting for us. The lock not wide enough for two narrowboats side by side but long enough for a cruiser and us, it being 98ft 5″ long, that’s if they were shorter than 40ft which they were. They were already at the far end of the lock and the chap walked up that end to operate the lock.
We’ve never been this way before, but so far on all river locks the controls for each end are positioned at that end, not one panel works all. He looked, his wife suggested pressing reset. I suggested looking at the other end of the lock where I could see a similar shaped control panel box. He was suggesting that his key didn’t fit the lock, that was because he’d been trying to open a far bigger box, most probably hydraulics, motors or some such hidden inside. Eventually he manged to open the correct box and closed the gate behind us, then walked up the other end to fill the lock. It was nice sharing a lock again, even though you couldn’t talk to anyone with engines running.
Out the other side we soon passed The Pike and Eel, cream drapes blowing around in the wind, preparations for an outside wedding today. I so hope they managed to coincide the ceremony with a lull in the wind.
Boats were pulling up on GOBA moorings, gaps in the bank side trees. We hoped for a space a little further on by a meadow. As we rounded the bend there was a wide beam moored and another mooring a short distance away, perfect for us. The bank made it a bit challenging to get off where it looked stable, but with a bit of nudging back and forth we got ourselves sorted. Get on with it! It’s perfect, I can jump!! Unless someone else manages to pull in we’ll share the meadow with the widebeam and maybe some cows, no footpath, perfect, if only the wind would subside!
Five hours! Brilliant!! I’d already sussed the area out from my position in the window. She came out with me and gave me one more rule. Boring!! No climbing trees over the river! I’d already done most of my calculations too.
She walked a different way away from the river to what turned out to be a far more interesting tree as it was also a sideways tree.
I claimed it as mine then had a preliminary climb, the sideways tree creaked a little, thank goodness I’d not finished my breakfast!
Despite them trying to be interesting, over there looked extra interesting, so that was me sorted for the day. See ya!
1 lock, 3.13 miles, 2 control panels, 2 in a lock, 1ft tidal height difference, 1 blowy wedding, £100, 2 boats on 1 meadow, 0 footpath, 5 hours, 8 trees climbed, 4 friends, 1 quiet afternoon, 4 rain showers, 1 happy cat, grade 3 cut, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.
Stretham Old Engine GOBA mooring to Ewell Fen GOBA mooring
Our delivery arrived bang on time this morning, the van pulling up directly above us in the layby. Mick headed up to meet the driver with numerous bags, it took a couple of journeys to get everything down to Oleanna and even longer to get everything stowed on board.
One of the fishermen behind us caught what must have been a pike, reeled it in and then took forever to remove the hook. All we could think was the poor thing. At least once the hook was removed they put it straight back in the water, it took quite a while to catch it’s breath and swim off, hopefully a good distance away so it wouldn’t have to go through the same trauma again.
At the same time a water vole swam across the river and was looking for a place to climb out, sadly it did it’s best to avoid my camera, hiding in the piling recesses.
We pootled past moored boats, one with a unique paint job of vikings and things.
The moorings at The Lazy Otter have gone. Heard on the grape vine that the current owners had applied for a change of use to a house and no longer a pub, which had been refused. We wondered if anything would happen if it remained a pub in the eyes of the authorities but just simply never opened!
Under the A10 and onwards west, the next bridge being Twenty Pence Bridge. How had it come by this name, was it to do with a toll, but it would have been a steep toll? There once had been a ferry here, then a lift bridge, it connected private land to a public road. In 1928 the owners of the land offered to pay 30s an acre towards the cost of making the road a public highway, a through route to the Isle of Ely. By 1931 the new bridge had been built and three steam lorries, two with trailers, representing a weight of sixty tons were used to test it’s strength. People came to view the bridge which now provided a new link between north and south. There are more interesting articles about the area here.
A white egret, some horses, dragonflies and a farmer pumping water from the river to water his crops, no wonder there’s been reports of the Old West being shallow.
At the next bridge we met one of just a handful of boats we’d see on the move today. This bridge Aldreth High Bridge was where the Aldreth Causeway crossed the Old West. The first mention of the causeway is in a Pipe Roll of 1172-3 when a payment was made. It was one of three causeways that crossed the fens to Ely, by the late 17th C it was superseded by the route via Stretham. The current bridge was built in 1901 the iron railings made at Eagle Work Foundry in Ely.
Mick noticed on our maps that the drains on the south side of river are called Sock Drains, First, Second, Third and Forth. Are these the only hosiery drains in the fens? Wonder how they got their names, I can’t find anything on the internet about them. If anyone knows please get in touch.
Not far now and the GOBA mooring came into sight, they are obviously popular with the local cows, well trodden hard earth alongside muddy patches. We found a good bit of bank and Mick fought to hammer our spikes in.
Washing was hung out on the whirligig and Tilly was given five hours of shore leave, although the lack of friendly cover meant she kept close to the boat. We had a couple of walks along the flood bank though, Tilly leading the way ahead until I thought we’d gone far enough.
Various bought items were divided up into portions to be frozen for later and my wild strawberry plants got some attention. Dead bits of plant removed and numerous babies sorted, some were planted in a new trough, the weaker ones left on the bank. If it wasn’t so dry right now they might take hold and become a treat for boaters in years to come.
0 locks, 6.7 miles, 2 boxes wine, 1 free loaf bread, 2 free pork loins, 4 hard nectarines, 2 Chris’s, 1 sorting of finances, 0 handed out, 3 lots of strawberries, 2 Tilly walks, 1 set of fresh bed linen.
Our neighbours were off before we’d even got our cuppas in bed this morning, heading off to make the most of being on a boat for a week. We weren’t tardy either this morning and found ourselves waiting for the No 11 bus towards Cambridge at 10am.
Sitting on the top deck gave us great views, it’s almost hilly round here! There are interesting buildings in many of the villages and plenty of thatched roofs to admire whilst passing at their height. If we had more time it would be interesting to have a look around St Cyriac and St Julitta churches, both share the same church yard. The Maltings in Burwell with it’s quirky roof line. Burwell Museum and Windmill, only open Thursdays, Sundays and Bank Holidays. Or walk round Lode where numerous thatched cottages require there to be boxes of chocolates on every street corner. Sadly they all passed too quickly for photos, well except the later where the bus has to do a three point turn to continue on its route!
We alighted and walked round the corner to the entrance of Anglesey Abbey. Not an abbey and not in Wales, but a rather fine house cared for by the National Trust. With huge gardens and access into the house we were to have a busy day. The offer of a garden highlights tour soon to start was not to be missed and we’re glad we went along as we’d have had no idea what we were looking at.
Jean was a very knowledgeable guide who first took us to see the wild flower meadow. The meadow is left alone for much of the year, the paths cut frequently but the main area only getting one cut a year once all the flowers have set their seeds. She pointed out Common Birds-Foot-Trefoil, known as Eggs and bacon due to its colouring, Knotweed in amongst the grasses.
Pyramid orchids and a rare Lizard Orchid that has appeared in the gardens this year.
We paused at a shrub covered in cobwebs, competing with Miss Haversham’s table covered. This was caused not by spiders but by a moth that weaves it’s silk, the caterpillars eat the shrub beneath before turning into small white moths. Today a few of the adults flitted about, a resting one on someone’s finger. This looked very much like the little things that have been appearing on Oleanna’s cabin sides over the last few weeks. Inside the cratch we’ve had incredible webs, that we’ve been putting down to new very keen spiders, but maybe we’ve got moths in there!
We walked through avenues of trees all given celebratory names, Coronation, Jubilee. Then areas of wood with perfectly positioned statues.
Into the rose garden, just finishing it’s first flush of blooms. Here we heard how the roses were cared for, planting in cardboard boxes is a new method to try to ease the influence of the soil in the beds, far cheaper than replacing all the soil every time new roses are planted. We took in the aromas from the blooms, very reminiscent of childhood making rose petal scent.
Around the exterior of the house we were shown the trained pear tree and then on to the herbaceous border garden where delphiniums towered high at the back of the flower beds. This was the garden currently in it’s prime. I could name loads of the plants but I can’t remember them all so photos will have to do.
The Fairbourne brothers who owned the house from the 1930’s loved gardens and the whole layout would have one garden coming into bloom as another passed it’s best. The next garden over had recently been planted out with Dahlias which would take over as the display garden in a couple of months time.
A very worthwhile tour to have done, one that will change through the seasons.
Anglesey Abbey started out as a hospital in 1135 and by the early 13th Century it had been converted into an Augustinian priory. Of course when Henry VIII came along (1536) the priory was dissolved. The ruins of the priory formed the core of the present house, which was built in the early 17th century. The house changed hands many times through the centuries, with not much changing.
In 1848 the Reverend John Hailstone bought the house and made various changes to it’s fabric, removing Jacobean dormer windows and creating the stable block. It was probably him who changed the name from Anglesey Priory to Abbey, the latter sounding far grander.
Urban Huttlestone Rogers Broughton (Lord Fairhaven) and his brother Henry bought the house in 1926. They had inherited £1million each when their father died, their family were very very wealthy Americans from oil refining. Urban was granted his Fathers Barony and became the 1st Baron of Fairhaven. The brothers agreed that the first to get married would sell their share to the other, so when Henry married in 1932 he sold his share to Urban. The house and estate complimented their horse stud at Barton and being close to Newmarket. Now they could enjoy the races in the summer along with shooting in the winter.
Between 1926 and 1930 the brothers altered the house, adding a new porch, spiral staircase and engine room. They also converted the stables into garages. In 1937 Lord Fairhaven extended the service wing and built the Library and in 1939 he added the Tapestry Hall. Money being no problem meant that anything that took Fairhavens fancy could be bought. This makes for an eclectic collection of objects and works of art.
Numerous paintings line the walls, collections giving rooms a theme. One corridor is filled with paintings by an artist Etty known for his historic nudes.
Numerous tapestries hang in corridors and down staircases. Some are old, others obviously commissioned with images of the house. There were one or two that seemed a little bit familiar as though elements had been included from the Marlborough Tapestries at Blenheim.
But all eyes are encouraged towards the Library. A large high ceilinged room, books line the walls, desks each end and sofas by the fire. Opposite hangs the main feature. A couple of months ago the largest known painting Constable painted returned from being cleaned. The Opening of Waterloo Bridge 1817, now reveals crowds waving from buildings and one figure is thought to be the Price Regent as it is the only figure wearing a wig. The volunteer in the room was obviously very proud as he talked about it.
If you peek through the leaded windows behind the desk you can make out graffiti, etched by Fairhavens guests. Several of the royal family’s names appear here, sadly my photos didn’t come out, Elizabeth R is there.
Down below stairs the kitchens are open for viewing. An old range is accompanied by several electric cookers. Behind the bars in the safe sit shelves of crockery and a bust of Winston Churchill.
When Fairhaven entertained, three guests his preferred number, dinner would be served at 8.03 in the dinning room, giving the guests three minutes to walk from where they’d had pre-dinner drinks. Then every evening just before 9pm a radio was brought through to the dinning table on a sliver tray so that the news could be listened to.
A house that went on and on, room after room filled with such an eclectic collection of alsorts and then a garden that stretches on for what feels like mile after mile and then some more. What a place, what a very rich chap!
After the house we retired to the cafe for a jacket potato each and a pot of tea. Another walk round the grounds, taking in the Mill this time, sadly it’s closed at the moment. Then it was time to walk back to catch the bus back and give Tilly a head nudge or two.
0 locks, 0 miles, 2 buses, 1 huge house, 1 even larger garden, 2 avenues, 56545378 moths, 1 lizard orchid, 8ft Constable, 1 cat up high, 1 parrot, 1 replica ceiling, 2 jackets, 1 mill, 1 very good day out, now it’s time to go boating again.
Would we be able to escape? Mick tentatively walked the plank to retrieve the bow rope from the tree, the plank only just having enough solid ground under it. With the stern rope back on board he engaged reverse, thankfully there was movement and we slide off the bottom. Now all we had to do was wind!
Mick decided to reverse back and swing the bow round meaning it would head towards a big willow tree which really was in an awkward place. Where we ended up meant there was little room both for and aft to get us swinging round. The bow got totally embedded in the willow. I stood in the well deck passing branches over the top and around the cratch.
STOP! There were two thick branches, one close to the cratch window the other hanging low with roots attached under the bow fender which had the potential to rip the fender off. All hard to explain to Mick from my green jungle position, but he needed to do nothing for a while as I climbed out onto the bow with nothing to hang onto, I did have my life jacket on just in case.
The first branch by the cratch window was easy to sort as it broke off in my hand, the stump of it a handy level to push the other branch away from under the bow. More dangling branches were moved, me back to safety and Mick could try moving us again. This is where bow thrusters do come in handy, although there were times where he needed to stop and let me clear the branches again that were getting caught on the tunnel light and the horns. Then thankfully we were free and pointing in the right direction.
We retraced ourselves back through the narrow Amazonian channel, a sheep coming over to check us out, I don’t think many boats venture down here!
At the junction with Burwell Lode waterlilies grown in the centre of the triangle where few boats go. Here we turned right, the wider deeper water meant we almost got up to normal cruising speed.
We were soon joined by two Terns making use of our wake to fish in, the proximity they flew in to Mick’s head at times was quite alarming. They dived in so close to the prop, but this seemed to be worth it as they’d immerge with a catch in their beaks most times.
The view was different here, over damp grass land where a herd of cattle grazed, in amongst them Koniks, horses the closest breed to the wild horses that would have inhabited such areas. They are sandy in colour with darker mains and were very busy doing what they do best, eating!
A bridge, no two bridges! One a foot bridge the other a lift bridge, usually kept open.
We were making good time now, until we reached a depot on the north bank where the channel got narrower, our pace slowed down again.
Finally our goal came into view and the mooring with enough space for a narrowboat was occupied. As we came alongside I asked through their hatch if we could breast up. They were having lunch and then would be on their way again. We winded, tied to them and had our lunch, then did a do-ci-do when they left. Cat health and safety check, we were a hedge away from a farm yard and was that Giant Hog Weed that the mower had cut? Mick didn’t think it was, but I was unsure, so the verdict wasn’t one Tilly wanted to hear, ‘Not today Tilly, sorry’.
We’d heard about St Mary’s church and been told we had to visit. It is one of the finest perpendicular churches in Britain, a wonderful example of 15th Century architecture. Reginald Ely is credited for creating the church, he was a master mason for Kings College Chapel in Cambridge. It is said that he and his workmen honed their skills at Kings before doing their best work at Burwell.
Lofty, with a timber ceiling, possibly the kind that was originally intended for Kings before the fan vaulting was built. Carved animals line the roof line and vast tall windows fill the nave with light.
Through the choir screen all the glass has a green tinge, meaning that by the alter seems cold and I suspect many a bride and groom have looked a touch nauseous on their happy day!
Two colourful stained glass windows date from the early 20th Century adding colour to the scene. By the north door is a large painting of St Christopher, worshipers would have stopped to pray below him on entering the church.
Around the church were masses of butterflies, the tower outside has a cascade of them. Made by locals for the Jubilee there are simply thousands of them, all different shapes and sizes, all very jolly.
Back in the long linear village we spotted a windmill behind houses. A fox on a newly thatched roof. Pound Hill where stray animals used to be impounded until a fine was paid. A plaque remembering 78 people who died in a barn fire during a puppet show in 1727. I always knew puppets had an evil side to them!
This evening we have gained a neighbour, a Black Prince hire boat with a family from California. They are over on their second boating holiday, the last one was in Scotland. Today they picked the boat up in Ely and this was their first stop. They are very quiet neighbours think they were tucked up in bed by 9.
0 locks, 4.67 miles, 1 reverse, 1 fracas with a willow, 1 escaped boat, 2 lodes, 2 neighbours, 4563 butterflies, 2 pints milk, 1 very long village, 4 welcome to moor alongside posters, 1 new lodger booked, 1 quiet evening, 1 missing episode of Sherwood.