The early morning mist clung to the river early on. As the clock ticked closer to breakfast time the mist increased and the view of the cooling towers almost disappeared before the sun took over and burnt its way through.
An email from the printers arrived, the final adjustment corrected. At last everything was ready to be printed and the big red button could be pressed on the copy machine. It feels like it’s been going on forever! Maybe it has!!
Keeping an eye on Trent Junction
Tilly was given shore leave, rules recited and the reasons I call her home reinforced today!
NB Hereward
Part way through the morning a shiny boat came past from Redhill. NB Hereward was on its way from being repainted by Tom at Gibson and Kentwright. Very nice looking boat. She’d gone back in the water a couple of days ago. I wonder if the owners had much to clean up, I’ve heard that the grit from being grit blasted gets everywhere inside despite all openings being covered up.
Compass Squiggles
Time to think about illustrations for the Separate Doors book. I’d had an idea whilst on the train and squiggled it down. But now I realised it was actually two ideas rolled into one. I ended up with three versions sketched out to send to Vanessa for her to point me in the right direction for the style of the book.
This afternoon’s walk had me walking up the Erewash towpath, further than I’ve been of late. At the very tree covered bridge into Sheet Stores I could just make out the stern of NB Bargus, it looked like Kat was delivering to a moored boat in the basin.
After we’d seen her in Burton her stern gear had developed quite a big problem and was letting in water when the prop turned. Brian on NB Elk had breasted the boats together and taken her down the Trent, up the first lock on the Erewash to Sheet Stores where NB Bargus was lifted out to await new parts, some welding etc. Whilst she was out of the water Kat blacked her and put the base coats on the port cabin side to paint out the old livery and get her looking more like a Jules Fuels boat. Bargus was now back in the water and preparing to head back to the Trent and Mersey. I’d seen that Kat had planned her next coal run and sent her a message asking for a top up, but after hearing nothing back we’d assumed she was already on her way up stream, but we’d been wrong. Later in the day we heard from her and yes she still had supplies on board and would see us in the morning.
A busy line
I walked through the same boring estate I’d walked the other day, it wasn’t any more interesting walking in the opposite direction. Across and under the many railway lines. At one level crossing I had to wait for a train to pass and then almost as soon as I’d crossed the lights started to flash again, only a couple of minutes between trains.
Water park
I opted for a different path back to the river, this one I thought might be more interesting as it was between two lakes. However, the lake to the right was totally invisible because of trees and the one to the left I only caught a little glimpse of the water park before brown fencing cut off my view totally! Back to the river bank with its high foliage so no view there either. The best part of today’s walk was listening to the birds and spotting them all on the pylon and cables, singing their hearts out.
Tweeting birdies!
Back at Oleanna Tilly was hanging about, well you told me I had to come back when told to! That is when I noticed she was limping again. It’s not been noticeable for quite a few days, but was definitely back now. We’ll see what some sofa and bed rest does for a day or two, then see if we need to pay a visit to those people who wear green!
Chilli Turkey Sausage and Squash Risotto
Lurking in the bottom of the freezer had been four chilli turkey sausages. I decided to see what they would be like in a risotto with some roast squash. It turned out to be really rather nice. Recipe will be found here.
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 misty start, 1 big PRINT button pressed (I hope), 3 squiggles, 1 invoice, 1 coal boat, 3 railway crossings, 1 boring walk, 72 brisk minutes, 1 out of 4, 4 turkey sausages, 0.5 squash, 2 plates of yummy food, 1 chink of glasses for William.
Time to look at Saturdays newspaper puzzles with a cuppa in bed. Tilly was given shore leave, after breakfast we had a quick tidy up and sweep through. The boat in front of us had backed up to the water point, would they be coming back to the mooring or heading off afterwards? Mick went to ask, they were heading onwards, so we could pull up to the end mooring, within reach of the tap for our hose. Only thing was that Tilly was out and about and we’re not allowed to move the outside with her in it.
Thankfully she appeared quite quickly when called and obliged by heading inside. We then pulled Oleanna along towards the water point and improving the view of Ratcliffe Power Station in the process. As soon as we were back onboard Tilly hopped off and vanished again, I only just had chance to warn her that the outside had moved by a bit more than a boats length, she most probably wasn’t listening anyway!
A little while later a voice could be heard outside. Jane Elliot Webb had come to visit. Jane was working at the SJT when I started in 1996, I hadn’t realised that we’d only been there for one season together. When the Stephen Joseph Theatre opened in 1996 (in it’s new home the Odeon), it had two auditoria and had required more members of staff and funding. The staff increased, hence me getting a job, but the funding didn’t. It had been decided to not compromise the opening season due to the amount of funding, but it did mean that quite a few members of staff were laid off in the autumn, Jane and myself included.
Pip, Jane, Mick
I went off to paint panto at Watford Palace Theatre, with Lizzie (NB Panda), and Jane went to work at Nottingham Playhouse. I ended up returning to Scarborough, but Jane whilst doing a few other things found herself working at Nottingham in Stage Management. I really thought we’d both been at the SJT together for longer. Plenty to talk about over a cuppa on board, we have quite a few friends in common.
Lunchtime. Time to get Tilly back so we could go out. I called. I walked up and down several times calling. Mad Cat Woman caused people to stop and ask if I was looking for a dog or a cat. I called again. Tilly was given three chances to return to Oleanna over half an hour, I for one was getting very hungry!
Her bed and Escape Pod were put out on the stern hatch, rear doors left open, the ones into the cabin locked. We headed round the corner to the Lock House Tea Room for lunch. We’ve only once left the boat when Tilly’s been out before, we really don’t like doing it, but she was seriously showing us up!
Lunch
Tuna jacket potatoes and a round of sandwiches were accompanied with more cuppas and conversation sat outside the Lock House in the bright sunshine. What a beautiful day, no real need for jumpers in the sunshine. What a lovely time we had catching up, thank you for visiting us Jane and we’ll make sure we let you know when we’re passing again.
Back round the corner, we’d been gone for maybe an hour and a half. Would Tilly have come home? Had Tilly got confused with the hire boat that had pulled in behind us earlier, where we’d been moored first thing? That hire boat was just coming back and heading back towards Sawley. I could just make out the shape of two pointy ears through the pram cover. She was home.
Where were you?!?!?
A severe telling off was given to me! HOW Dare you leave me in the outside with no means of getting inside! No one to open the doors for me!!
She got a severe telling off too. Where have you been?! Some self catering obviously has been happening. When I call, I call you for a reason! You really showed us up!!!
Tilly was grounded for the remainder of the day!
New proofs from the printers came through. All correct apart from the Front Cloth. They’d not needed to do anything to the front cloth as I’d already stretched it to the right size, they’d stretched it even more. Pooh! An email was quickly fired off, but most probably arrived as they were heading home for the day.
What a beautiful evening
Time for a walk. I opted to walk up the Erewash, cross over on the footbridge by Mill’s Dockyard then walk through the golf course. Plenty of people in the driving range and I had to pause a couple of times to check if I could cross without getting hit by balls. I then carried on walking towards the B6540. The route along the top of flood banks giving me great views of the power station.
Ratcliffe and the viaduct
Reaching the road I wanted to turn towards Sawley but on my side of the road there wasn’t a pavement. The traffic was very busy heading towards Long Eaton, but thankfully someone spotted me and waved me across. However not too much further along the pavement ran out on that side! I had to cross back over again. This meant an even longer wait until a bus gave me space to cross.
Sawley Locks
Along Sawley cut, past all the moored boats, down to the locks, then across the river with the railway line and back along the river bank. All the time the sun was getting lower in the sky, all the time photos were needing to be taken. What a stunning evening, back to Oleanna for Walsall Schnitzel (Turkey Schnitzel) with tomato spaghetti.
Sunset tastic
0 locks, 0 miles, 29 years ago! 6 months, 1 bottle of red, thank you Jane, 2 jackets, 1 round sandwiches, 3 cuppas, 1 very good chin wag, 1 AWOL cat!, 0 stowaway, 50 brisk minutes walk, 1 lovely sunset.
‘Girl’ the comic, Marie Antoinette, Processed water, Singing washing machines and the Life of Brians were all discussed this morning on the Geraghty zoom.
Puddle hopscotch
Plenty of puddles to play hopscotch with this morning along the towpath back to the start of the Erewash Canal. Over the very steep footbridge to Mills Dockyard. The place had a jolly hub hub of activity and some very beautiful things to look at.
Mills Dockyard
Mills is quite an historic boat yard. Founded by Amos Mills in 1895 concentrating on wooden barge building, houseboats and rowing skiffs, the company has been passed down through four generations and is now run by Amos’s Great Grandson Steve Mills. Steve restores wooden boats as well as offering services for more modern boats.
Outside lay two rather wonderful skiffs. The woodwork varnished to such a glorious finish. Restoration works had been carried out on these boats and my they were gorgeous. Rattan backed seating. Leather upholstery, pristine coils of rope and polished engines.
More boats sat indoors, a wonderful beaver stern playing out from a beautiful pram hood.
Car or a boat?
Then under cover were two cars. Or where they? One with the body of a boat and wooden mud guards. I believe this will be exhibited at the NEC later this year. Then behind was Burglar Bill, Matt Black, evil gangster style speed waiting to be unleashed on the neighbourhood.
Burglar Bill
History filled walls, the chandlers showed off traditional painting. A one man band sang, played his banjo and hit his suitcase held in place by a toad. Clog dancers clogged and people enjoyed cake and cuppa all under the Sunday sunshine.
Shardlow levels
Time to wind and get moving before the river levels start to rise after the recent rain fall. We chose our time to push off between the sailing dinghies racing at the club opposite.
There were plenty of people enjoying the beer festival by Cranfleet Lock. The level not wanting to equalise again to open the top gates, so I enlisted a chap to help push, he thought the beer was exceptionally good, it certainly wasn’t helping with his diction!
Below Cranfleet Lock
A cruiser zoomed to join us in the lock. However their width was just a touch too much for us to share. Two people appeared at the bottom gates, one starting to lift a paddle before the top gate was even closed, they soon stopped. Mick closed the off side top gate and I could see what was about to happen. The crew at the far end started to whip up the paddles, without checking first. Mick still on the bank, we both shouted to stop.
Thankfully they stopped. Once Mick was actually on Oleanna we gave them the go ahead. I walked down to chat. ‘Sorry I shouted’ I lied. He said, ‘I’ve had a boat for 7 years, so I know what I’m doing!’ I refrained from, in my mind, stating the obvious that he really didn’t! If he’d have waited for the go ahead from the skipper and for the skipper to be on the boat, we’d not have had to shout and he’d have known what he was doing. Helpful people are not always helpful and they could well have been drinking since the bar opened this morning!
Have they gone aground? Was it intentional?
Once down, we were on our way, zooming with the increased flow on the River. No sign of the boat we’d helped to rescue a few weeks ago. But where he’d been stuck there was now a cruiser seemingly stuck. No-one on board that we could see, so no-one to help should they need it.
The lock landing nearly full of moorers!
At Beeston Lock we worked our way down the lock with help from a white haired chap who was made up when I said he could open and close gates. A top up of water then we needed to find somewhere to moor.
Coming into Beeston Lock
No space alongside the road anywhere. I counted 18 motor homes parked up. Through the next bridge. Gosh when we’d come the other way there had only been a couple of other boats along this stretch, today it looked chocka. One possible space which we manged to shoehorn ourselves into, the nearest neighbour impressed that we’d guessed right.
I had a walk to check how far the station was, I’m on an early train in the morning. Then I carried on crossing the railway again and returning to Beeston cut via the Attenborough nature reserve.
Gadwalls
Mick had been under instruction to pop a joint of pork in the oven before I returned. I’d left it uncovered in the fridge for most of yesterday to help dry the rind out, the plan worked and we had very good crackling. The joint big enough for four meals for the two of us and some sandwiches.
2 locks, 5.5 miles, 4 beautiful boats, 2 extraordinary cars, 7 years! 1 unimpressed cat, 14 minutes to the station, 68 brisk minutes walking, 1 beer, 1 joint of pork, 1 camera charged, 1 bag packed.
Recently we’ve had a couple of people who subscribe to the blog via email, say that they’ve not been getting our posts. In one case they have stopped altogether, in another they receive all of them once a week! The Oleanna IT department doesn’t understand. We unsubscribe them, then resubscribe them again, which seems to work. Whilst doing this we can see how many posts have reportedly been sent to each subscriber and the percentage of posts that are opened by the recipient. In one case they have received over 300 posts, their read rate is 100.8%! Incredible for what should be a totally new subscriber. Another person who we know reads the blog regularly has a read rate of 96.7%, not bad Ade! We don’t necessarily believe these stats, and don’t worry, we’re not keeping an eye on you. But you know me and numbers!
Tilly was granted shore leave whilst we had breakfast, then was called in so that we could go out. Luckily she was only in the sideways trees by the boat, so this only took a matter of seconds for her to return for a morning cat nap. Mick headed off to buy a newspaper and I strode off along Cranfleet cut for my walk.
Someone was keeping an eye on me
Two volunteers were waiting for boats, chatting about weather warnings. Bunting hung from everything around the lock, there is a beer and cider festival at the boat club this weekend. A burger van was serving up bacon and sausage butties and a nearby field was filled with motorhomes all come to drink and enjoy the music.
That’s why we had some boats moving long after dark last night
I followed the river path round a big meander in the river. The occasional glimpse of the river below, but never a good view. I tried to see if I could spot the boat we’d rescued a month or so ago, see if they’d got themselves out from behind the sign on the offside, but the view was obscured, we’ll see when we come past tomorrow.
The airfield
Model aeroplanes were doing tricks over the river, a silver arrow shaped plane diving towards the ground then spinning back up to the sky. A wind sock wafted in the breeze and a crowd watched as planes came in to land. It was all happening on the opposite bank, so sadly I couldn’t get close.
I then walked over a bridge crossing one of the many lakes alongside the river. Crossed the railway, one of many lines in this area, HS2 would have added another line, but this stretch has been cancelled. Into an industrial area of Long Eaton, then a housing estate, under, across more railway, more uninteresting housing. I’d hoped there might have been an interesting factory, or stretch of houses for which I could look the history up, but no.
There it is!
Drizzle started to fall as I zigzagged my way past 80’s houses. I had been going to join the canal at Fields Farm Road Bridge, but opted to cut a corner, under a railway bridge where I sheltered for a few minutes hoping the now heavier rain might ease.
Then to the canal. Here I spotted that tomorrow there will be a Heritage Open Day at Mills Dockyard. We’ll maybe come and have a look as we’ve not been into tracking down places to visit recently.
Not the healthiest of snacks
I paused to see what was on the menu at the Lock Cafe, some tasty morsels no doubt, but I didn’t fancy the dripping toast. Back to Oleanna for lunch. Today the temperature had dropped considerably, the stove was lit.
Trent Lock
Lists of panto questions were typed out and distributed in three directions, I don’t expect to get any answers over the weekend but I’ll be otherwise occupied at the beginning of next week so I wanted to get it out of the way. Then the big pan came out to make up the sweet potato dhal I’d been going to make last night, plenty left over for another meal next week.
0 locks, 0 miles, 100.8%, 1 weeks worth of blog in one? 87 brisk minutes, 4.69 miles walked, 1 Saturday newspaper, 1 slightly damp day, 3 questioning emails, 250grams lentils, 2 sweet potatoes, 1 chilli, 1 lost weather station outside sensor.
Late last night a new annotated props list landed in my inbox. This morning it was time to arrange a meeting with Min the Props Maker and find out what the props budget is. This done, breakfast consumed and Tilly back on board we pushed off to drop down Derwent Mouth Lock. The Chestnut tree here producing some serious conkers, all glowing brown fresh from their shells, things of beauty. I picked up a few to enjoy for a while until they grow dull as they dry out. Long gone are the days when kids would be seen throwing sticks up into trees to bring down what might turn out to be a truly legendary conker.
M1 ahead
Now to cross where the Derwent meets the River Trent. I’d checked the level board this morning, the level had dropped by at least a bricks worth since yesterday, yet the push of the current coming down stream had us skidding to keep going straight ahead to Sawley.
Sawley
Through the flood lock, past all the moorings, space for visitors, but we didn’t want to stop. Volunteers were keen to help at the locks down onto the river, but we wanted to offload some of our rubbish as it was starting to take over the stern of Oleanna.
We managed to place some of it in the bins which were already quite full. According to the volunteer, they have problems with bin collections here at the moment. Between Sawley and Fradley there is now only Willington where there are bins, since we last did this stretch two bin sites have gone, no wonder these bins are getting overwhelmed. We kept some back to add to the next bins.
Down the lock and back on the river, no space on the pontoon today, but we weren’t wanting to stop there anyway, our second mate would complain about the lack of friendly cover and trees close by. Down to the junction of the Erewash, Trent, Cranfleet cut and the River Soar, we headed right, south, a kingfisher darting along in front of us and an Egret watching on.
Coming in to moor
Through the flood lock at Red Hill, named as the sandy bank behind the houses on stilts is very red. Then we looked for a space to pull in, just enough room for us. A lorry arrived with a narrowboat sat on its trailer, what looked like a fresh coat of paint above the gunnels, but old blacking below. The lorry nudged back and forth on the slipway getting into position for the boat to be lifted off.
We walked round and found the office. Mandy welcomed us in, we’d said we’d be calling in for a chat. Oleanna is booked in with Tom at Gibson and Kentwright for a repaint early next year and we wanted to sus out about coming out of the water early to wait for our slot on the hard, which will save us money on our CRT licence.
Lorry lining up for the boat to be lifted off
Mandy was very straight with us about the marina and their rules. It is a very busy boat yard, with boats moving around on the hard most days. Several builders and painters on site, so it’s not a place that suits everyone. No dogs or kids allowed, too dangerous to have them running around. They would need to know if we wanted to do any work on Oleanna whilst she’s out of the water so she’s blocked up appropriately. Would we want power? We’d need a long lead as the meter may not be next to the boat. Don’t expect them to drop everything should you want something moved as they are very busy. They also charge 6 months land storage when you arrive, then if there are any months unused when you leave you get them refunded. Our quote from Tom includes three moves, so we’d be adding another one. Coming out of the water, laying up and six months storage would come to just under £2000, all payable the day we arrive! Gulp!!
We chatted about dates, all possible. We chatted about being still on the water whilst we move off, then being lifted out, less stress for Tilly, also all possible. We left with a mooring contract to fill in and her quote.
Back we go
The boat on the lorry was now being lifted by the big crane, just high enough to get the lorry out, then it was lowered, ropes handed down to chaps waiting so that when the boat is back in the water they can move her about. We wanted to go back the way we’d come. Where to wind? Ahead not really enough room and with a narrowboat about to be launched we’d be in the way! A winding hole back through the flood lock, Mick reversed us back then did his best to wind in between the banks of pennywort.
Back to Trent Lock where we pulled in to try out the new mooring rings that have recently been added, much better spacing than of old and not too big a step off Oleanna. Tilly was given the rules and off she went to explore whatever lies behind the hedge. CRT notices came in regarding the South Oxford, Coventry and Grand Union Canals, these will not be opening yet, but they hope to open them for a window of two weeks at the end of October for boaters to return to their moorings. If we positioned ourselves well we’d be able to make it to Oxford or Banbury for me to commute from the boat to work on Panto. But then we might find ourselves getting stuck at the wrong end of the country and miss our paint slot. The CRT notice just reinforced the decision we’d made a couple of weeks ago, to keep the boat north and if possible I’ll have a long weekend back home, if not Mick might come to Chippy or London for a weekend instead.
After lunch Mick headed off into Long Eaton to pick up his prescription and I got myself ready for my meeting with Min. At 4pm the meeting started. Getting to know each other, how we both work, when things will be needed for rehearsals was one side of the meeting. Then there was the nitty gritty of each item, a long long list for a pantomime.
More panto lists
Mick arrived back a little after 5, we’d not got half way through Act 1. We jumped about a little, some props having things in common with items later in the show. 6pm, we’d not reached the interval. Tilly came home wanting food, Mick fed her. We could break the meeting and carry on some other time, maybe over the weekend. 7pm, Mick was happy to wait for food, he had a shower. Four hours after we’d started Min and I reached the end of the list, both of us with lists of questions for other people, but a very good thorough meeting. Thank you Min.
What to do for food? Emergency tuna pasta or see if one of the pubs was still serving food, it was possible it being a Friday night. We tried The Steamboat Inn first, no-one at the bar, a few people sat drinking, no signs of any food being served, we turned round and walked on to The Trent Lock.
Tonights naughty meal
Yes they were serving food, quite a few tables occupied, we picked up menus and ordered. A glass of wine to accompany a bacon chop, egg and chips, just a different name for Gammon really, but it was very nice and saved cooking late, just that bit more expensive than the dhal I had been going to make this evening!
Back on Oleanna we had another glass of wine and ended up as we quite often do on a Friday watching old music programs. Tonight there was one about great guitarists. Jimi Hendrix was playing something that sounded remarkably like Smoke on The Water. Had he written it? Or was it Deep Purple? Jimi died in 1970, Deep Purple recorded it around 1971. Mick checked on line and came across a forum, this had started a spat.
Jimi wrote the song and then the singer from deep purple found a tape laying on the ground, played it, and it was the song. so they learned it and gave themselves credit.
The “tape” as he specified was not considered an ideal medium to record music because it was too primitive be used for anything that requires detail. The cassette tape was primarily used for diction. It was not until ’71 that companies began to modify and tinker with the technology to make it suitable for different applications i.e. music recording.
Don’t try to bring logic and facts to this thread, Jimi Hendrix wrote Smoke on the Water, PERIOD.
No, I wrote Smoke on the Water. PERIOD. He stole that song from me, just as The Beatles took my idea for Sgt. Peppers, The Rolling Stones took my “Satisfaction”, and that prick Beethoven stole my Ninth. And don’t get me started on those bastards, Mozart and Bach. The Vienna Waltz? That was mine too. I dropped my USB key in Autstria, and the next thing I know, Strauss is taking credit for all my sh*t.
2 locks, 3 flood locks, 3.6 miles, 2 rights, 1 wind, £2k, 4 hours props meeting, 2 A4 sheets of notes, 2 late to make dhal, 5 minutes brisk walking! 2 bacon chops, 2 glasses of wine, 1970, 1971, 1972? 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.
Kegworth Marine and Ratcliffe Bridge 46 to Trent Junction, River Trent
Ratcliffe Lock
A cruiser just beat us to Ratcliffe Lock, a crew member sent ahead to set it. I checked with the skipper if they would be willing to share or if they’d rather be on their own. Some cruisers are weary of narrowboats in locks, but on this occasion they were fine about sharing just so long as we went into the lock first. Fine with us.
Closing in a years time
Now close to Ratcliffe on Soar powerstation, the cooling towers in just about every photograph. Through Redhill Flood Lock and on towards the Trent. A narrowboat came towards us at speed, had they misjudged the bend by the big weir? Plenty of wellie and they managed to adjust their course to avoid us.
Trent Junction
Now the water stretches out as the Soar meets the Trent, meets the Erewash Canal, meets Cranfleet Cut. Sadly no space on the pontoon mooring, one of our favourites which is a favourite with many others, can’t remember the last time we managed to get moored there. However a space against the wall was available, we winded and pulled in, here Tilly would be allowed shore leave and we’d still have quite a view from the side hatch and our bed in the morning.
It was still quite early, before midday. The height of the bank and forecast rain in the afternoon put me off doing the mushroom vents, again!
Trent Lock onto the Erewash
I planned a walk, checked when rain was due and set off hoping to remain dry today. I walked over the bottom of Trent Lock Junction, we’d forgotten the existence of the Lock Cafe, maybe we should have gone there for lunch.
Heathers
I walked along the banks of the Trent up to he small garden centre where I checked to see what was for sale. Diddy Christmas trees! Our new Christmas tree had been doing quite well back in Scarborough when last checked and this year we don’t plan on being onboard for the big day, so no need for one.
FOUR!
My plotted route brought me to the edge of a golf course. I could just make out the next yellow post marking the footpath across the neat grass. Groups of men swung clubs. Would I make it across without getting hit? Would I be a distraction? Should I change my route? I decided that the course would have to accomodate me and other walkers, so hopefully I’d not be in the firing line and have to dodge balls.
I survived and then walked right down the far side of the course. I didn’t bother trying to count how many balls were sitting in the grass of the driving range. Presumably they have a sit on hoover to collect them at the end of the day.
Mills Dockyard
The footpath popped out at a bridge over the Erewash Canal. We’d considered having a trip up to Langley Mill, but decided against it. Eight years ago we’d cruised to the end, we enjoyed it (apart from the chap with a shotgun), but it isn’t one we simply must return to. Mills Dockyard did look very picturesque today.
Under the railway lines
Across a field to walk round a lake, under two railway lines, then across another field back to Cranfleet Cut where I rejoined the towpath back to Oleanna.
Yum
Time to make that carrot cake. Tilly mumbled something at me as she came in the stern doors, she was ushered straight out the front doors before she’d finished what she was saying, the doors closed firmly behind her. WHAT IS RULE NUMBER ONE TILLY!!!!
Only just enough wind
Early evening three sailing boats came out for a race, a very slow motion race as there was just about no breeze. One of the boats needed motorised assistance to return to the club house.
1 lock, 1 flood lock, 1.9 miles, 2.5 miles walked, 1 dry boater, 4 times in 3 days! 200 grams of carrots, 1 apple, 75 grams cream cheese, 1 improved internet, 1 loose connection, 1 stove lit, 0 Mrs Tilly stamps of approval, 1 cat grounded!
Derwent Mouth Lock to Boots Footbridge, Nottingham and Beeston Canal
Ice surrounded us this morning, maybe we should have followed the boats yesterday. Was today going to be another day breaking ice, or should we sit tight and hope that the sun would make a difference? 7 hours cruising between the Trent and Mersey to Stoke Lock for our booked passage on Monday morning. We suspected we’d not be able to cancel the booking now in time to save a volunteer from coming out to meet us. Oh well, we’d see what happened.
Thank you!
Well what happened was the high bow of NB Hadley came past at quite a lick heading for the lock, churning it’s way through the ice. ‘We’ll be following you, thank you!’ Mick shouted out of the hatch. By the time we’d had breakfast another boat had come up Derwent Mouth Lock and reset it for us, brilliant!
Solid ropes
Frosty mornings means stiff ropes. Wiggles of lines are hard to untie from T studs and then pull through nappy pins, it’s a bit like that game where you move a hoop round a bent wire trying not to connect the circuit by touching it.
Green! Plus a first outing for new waterproof thermal kid gloves
Fog. There was a lock somewhere ahead of us, it had been there yesterday, honest! The river level was now in the green, below the lock a channel cut through the ice could be made out vanishing into the fog. Working the lock I took care not wanting to slip. Frosty lock beams were avoided as much as possible meaning walking round the lock more than I normally would, but I’d rather the extra exercise than slip in.
Derwent to the left, Trent to the right, I think!
Life jackets on, anchor attached we were ready for the river. Straight on where the Derwent meets the Trent, we were glad we know the river quite well. The pipe bridge, the M1 bridge, keep right so as not to get too close to the weir.
Come on sun, you can do it!
Would Sawley Flood Lock be open or closed? Where was Sawley Flood Lock? At about three boat lengths away the lock beams could be seen. Was it open? No. The flood lock has a paddle left open at both ends to keep a flow of water heading to the locks at the other end of the cut back onto the Trent.
Key of power time
We soon arrived at Sawley Locks, the right hand one out of use currently. Time for the Key of Power. The lock was in our favour but still had to work it’s way through it’s programming of opening the sluices a bit at a time, four times before the next press would actually open the gates.
Ron helping out
The lock cottage, tea rooms and pub have recently been sold and today we got to meet it’s new owner Ron Gooding who came out to say hello, he then offered to work the lock for us so I could hop back on board. A friendly chap who is used to Thames Locks, he’s a BSS Examiner and a marine gas engineer, according to his card. The pub will reopen at some point, ‘there’s lots to do’ along with the tea room. Today must have been his first go at working the lock, which doesn’t work in the same way as the Thames locks. I kept saying to press and hold the button til it started to flash, but he was too busy chatting.
Back on the main river Oleanna skidded round with the flow of water coming from the weir. Here we most certainly needed Waterway Routes! ‘The river bends here Mick’ ‘In the other direction!’ Landmarks appeared out of the gloom, moored boats, the scout place, the pontoon, Erewash, mind that rib, left now, mind that other rib, we’d made it to Cranfleet Cut and the flood gates that have been closed for a month.
Ratcliffe Power Station could only be made out by the clouds of steam rising above the fog back lit by the sun doing it’s best to burn it’s way through.
Setting Cranfleet Lock
At Cranfleet Lock the Lock Keeper was a touch frosty sitting at an angle in his flower bed. The lock was full of logs and crud brought down by the floods. Both bottom gates needed opening as there was so much sitting behind the gates to get one fully opened.
Adding to the fog on the river
Now onto the long reach to Beeston, the fog kept coming and going. Small cruisers appeared round bends swerving to our starboard to avoid us, we’d already moved over to give them more room, so they ended up being a long way over.
£325,000 2 bedrooms though
We wondered how high the floods had been along here, had the houses on stilts been affected, did they ever flood? One house has just recently been sold. It has it’s own floating pontoon and is on a double plot. Rather a lovely house. Link to it’s details.
Beeston Lock
Beeston came into view, the sun having cleared most of the fog by now. Pulling in to the lock landing took a bit of doing, the flow preferring to keep us moving towards the weir. A few days ago we’d seen pictures of how much rubbish was just outside the lock gates, thankfully most of it had been moved away but both gates required opening.
Familiar from the Great Ouse last year
As I worked Oleanna through the lock a lady with blue hair and a dog chatted away. Obviously a boat owner wanting to head upstream. How had our trip been, speedy! What was it like at Cranfleet? We chatted away, me wondering where we’d met before. After she’d walked away I realised it was the lady from NB Watt Way who had been at Bedford River Festival and she’d followed us across the tidal section to Salters Lode.
I think I preferred the donkeys!
A top up with water, we then carried on a short distance to find a mooring for the day. Some shore leave was allocated to Tilly, but she really wasn’t enamoured with the wall and all the foot fall.
As soon as we’d tied up I had a look at The Victoria Hotel’s website to see if there might just be a table for us this evening. Last night I’d checked and there were quite a few left, but now there were none. Oh well, we’ll go another time when the weather might not stop us. Instead of very nice pub food we had the remains of our chilli with jacket potatoes, not quite the celebratory meal we’d hoped for on reaching Nottingham, but a tasty one never the less.
A better solution is required, this one was free though
Checking Nebo as we were moving today, my phone kept up with us very well. However the phone inside seemed to stall a couple of times and had only recorded four miles of the eight plus. I remember this occasionally happening early last year when I was trying it out, it would loose us for a while, I’d assumed it was because I was using my phone for other things, but maybe that wasn’t the case. We’ll keep recording on two devices for the time being.
5 locks, 1 a flood lock, 1 set of flood gates open, 9.54 miles, 1 straight, 1 left not left left, 1 left, 1 very white day, 2 many bits of tree, 1 lady, 1 disappointed cat, 1 canal without ice, 0 table.
Trent Junction to Cuttle Bridge 13, Trent and Mersey Canal
Depending on which route we take we are either an hour behind or a day behind our schedule, this will almost certainly determine which way we go. But which way is that?
Morning view
Tilly was given 90 minutes shore leave as we had breakfast and joined Mick’s sisters on the Geraghty Zoom this morning. It’s lovely that we are all still doing this two years on. Tilly came home within time so we were able to push off as planned.
The rowers were out and one of their support boats was doing its best to try to move what could only really be described as a tree in the river. They attached a rope, nudged it this way and that, tried to get it up the club slipway without much luck. Hope they got it sorted in the end.
Which way?
Trent Junction is where the River Trent meets the River Soar and the Erewash Canal. The Erewash is a dead end, so we wouldn’t be going that way this time. Cranfleet Cut we’d just come from, so we’d not be going back. This left us two options, the Soar or the Trent. Our summers cruising plans would suggest going onto the Soar would be the most direct route, but a detour is required, so we’d be sticking with the Trent for a little bit longer.
We headed upstream, past Trent Lock pontoon, the chilled medication van already stationed to serve todays gongoozlers. It was chilly out there, we were glad of our winter layers despite the sunshine.
Big controls
Sawley Lock, the left hand lock had it’s gates open waiting for us as the right hand one was already being filled by another boat. I hopped off and headed to the panel a big shiny box with exactly the same instructions as those on the small pedestals downstream. There were only a couple of spaces available opposite the marina, this is where we should have been last night, but we’d had a much nicer mooring.
Sawley Flood lock was open so we could pass straight through and back out onto the river before we were to join the Trent and Mersey Canal. Another junction, not left to the marina, not right onto the non navigable Derwent, but straight on to the canal.
Boaters PPE out with the windlass
Two boats were ascending the lock, the chaps stood chatting on the top gates, only the ground paddles lifted. ‘We’re in no hurry’ said one chap as they moved to open the gates. We emptied the lock and worked Oleanna up off the river. Last year this signalled our successful escape from Goole, today it meant that apart from the river section at Alrewas we shouldn’t now get stuck if the river level comes up.
Broughton House
A pause for lunch in Shardlow before I walked ahead to make use of the post box by Broughton House which commands its position on London Road. Eight semi-circular stone steps lead up to the front door of the house which was built in the early 19th Century by James Sutton one of the merchants who developed the inland port of Shardlow.
Across the way at a side door to Holden House people were being served hot drinks and what looked like a blackboard menu of sandwiches sat against the wall. May have been worth a proper look if we’d been staying longer.
Swapping over at Shardlow
Shardlow lock was just being exited by two boats, a small narrowboat exiting second with novice crew on board, they seemed to be enjoying themselves but were a little bit confused as to which side they should pass Mick as he approached. I’d already lifted the ground paddles before I spotted another narrowboat pulling up below, we apologised and said we’d wait at the next lock, but the chap wasn’t going that far.
A quick chat with David to see how he was today before Aston Lock. Today wasn’t as positive as the last few days, but he was still making progress with the boat. Not everyday will be a great day, but this week he has certainly achieved lots.
At Aston Lock we gained eleven gongoozlers a family of cousins out for a walk. This meant we had extra hands to work the gates.
A self emptying lock
I’d been warned by a boat going downhill that the bottom gates at Weston Lock were leaking like a sieve and it was taking an absolute age to fill. When we got there we’d caught up with the two boats ahead of us, the chaps again stood on the top gates chatting away with only the ground paddles opened.
Big chunky gates at Weston Lock
‘We’re in no hurry’ the chap said again. I did point out that the bottom gates were leaking and that maybe opening the gate paddles would help fill the lock. It took a little while for the penny to drop, all that was happening right now was that they were letting water flow through the lock whilst it still had another foot to rise, they could be there forever, well until the pound above ran out of water!
We followed up. Are all these wide locks counter intuitive like Stenson Lock? Opening the same side ground paddle really didn’t hold Oleanna against the wall. Here we got a shower of hail too, just enough to get us all soggy and chilly before the sun did it’s best to return.
There really is a shelf there
As we approached the stretch where there is an underwater stone shelf, keep to the off-side, a boat was coming towards us. They were going at quite a rate, their bow faced towards us and just as they passed the yellow sign their stern hit the shelf, lifting the boat out of the water! Blimey!! The chap on the front thankfully didn’t fall in. We checked they were all alright before we carried on, all seemed fine.
Baaaaa!
It was cold now, should we catch up with ourselves, or pull in before Swarkstone Lock? The latter was more attractive with fields alongside the canal that Tilly would enjoy. We tried several places, but ground to a halt at least a foot out from the bank. In the end we gave up and moored up with a gap between us and the towpath, Tilly could easily jump it, so could we. Time now to warm up inside.
