Category Archives: History

Up For Bargus. 27th September

Leave a Reply

Trent Junction to Sainsburys Nottingham.

Tea in bed, then we were up and dressed and heading out with bags of rubbish and a windlass each. Rubbish disposed of we then sat by Trent Lock. Kat had said she’d be leaving Sheet Stores at about 8:30 and she had a boat to visit before she’d arrive at the lock, it was now a little after 9, we didn’t have long to wait for NB Bargus’s bow to come into view. We lifted paddles to fill the lock. My phone rang, Kat hadn’t found the boat with two mermaids, where had it gone? It turned out it was also below the lock on the river towards Sawley.

Teddy and Bella a little chilly this morning on the stern of NB Bargus

We worked Kat, Teddy and Bella down the lock onto the river, then met them alongside Oleanna. A top up of diesel, still at £1.01 a litre and two bags of excel coal, thankfully they were at the right end of Bargus. A chap came along wanting a gas bottle, as Kat had passed him above the lock he’d just run out. Then the owners of the boat with mermaids arrived with their dog, they curtailed their walk and headed home to wait for Kat. I suspect we won’t see Kat again this year, she’s headed back to the Trent and Mersey and hoping to get up the Coventry, Glascote and Atherstone to supply boats. CRT are hoping to open the locks for a week maybe a bit longer at the end of October to help businesses and also so that boats that have been stuck get back to home moorings before the winter stoppages kick in.

A day or so ago a notice had been put out by CRT. The Grand Union will be opening for a window of three weeks, but the south Oxford may only open for a week if there is sufficient water to do so. We’d already decided to not head that way for me to go to work on panto. We’d be able to make it to Marston Doles in time for me to start work, but then Mick would likely get stuck somewhere, so it’s not worth it. We’ll keep kicking our heels around the Trent for a bit instead.

More breakfast was required back on the boat

Breakfast. A treat felt in order, so we headed to the Lock House Tea Rooms to see what I might be able to eat. Have to say we were a touch disappointed that they didn’t do a breakfast. They did do bacon or sausage cobs and they had gluten free bread. We ordered one each and a cuppa. A few bites and they were gone, so we returned to Oleanna for a couple of slices of toast to follow.

Sailing boats were going back and forth as we got ready to push off, a narrowboat headed down Cranfleet Cut, we’d be along to join them in a few minutes. It took a while for a gap in the sailing boats and then for Oleanna to wind, she really wanted to cling onto the high wall, but we got there in the end.

Heading down Cranfleet

Today Cranfleet Lock had four volunteers on duty, mob handed. They waited for us to arrive, something needed picking up out of the water, volunteers ran to their shed and got a grabber, nowhere near long enough to reach whatever it was. It turned out that they’d dropped a pen! Well they’d not be getting that back. Down we descended, our lock partners led the way out onto the river, a little chap occasionally having a go at steering, no wonder they were zigzagging as he couldn’t see over the roof at all!

This river section now very familiar, we’ve been along it now four times in about five or six weeks. No boats stuck on the sand bar, however we could hear Oleanna scraping over the top of it! At Beeston Lock landing, the narrowboat had moved off leaving just enough space to pull in for one boat, the remainder of the pontoon was still full with over staying boats (if you can class them as that as they shouldn’t be there in the first place). I have had a reply from CRT after I’d sent them my photo of the landing, they are of course aware of the boats.

CRT are aware of these boats, hard not to be really.

Dad and son from the boat ahead walked up to the lock to set it. I walked over their stern to go and help leaving Mick and Oleanna to hover. Mum and daughter came along too. Something was said, son ran screaming back to the boat, this was the start of the running! What followed was a seriously stressful time at the lock for me and possibly Mum and Dad. I’d stupidly crossed over the bottom gates and the daughter wanted to do the same. Both kids were wearing buoyancy aids, this didn’t stop them from running round the lock. Their dog ran back and forth as Mum now was left on her own with the kids climbing onto gates, winding paddles, running, watching from under gate beams. I did my best to keep calm, Mum did a better job, I suspect she’s used to it. This was their first lock and the kids were just so excited! Thankfully it was soon over and no-one had fallen in or been crushed and we were all back on our boats.

An interesting pram hood

We carried onwards towards Nottingham. The pennywort stretched across the canal. One cruiser had managed to collect a large clump of it around their prop, so they were doing their best to free themselves, we pushed a large patch away with our bow for them. It always takes longer than we think to reach Castle Marina. A space was found, mooring rings as always with useless spacing for us.

With a shopping list in hand we aimed to do a biggish shop quickly. However when we got back to the boat and everything was stowed I suggested we stay put for the day. Our plan had been to reach County Hall Steps on the river, that would take at least an hour, we’d not be letting Tilly out anyway today as she was having an enforced rest day for her limp. We opted to stay put, after all we’ve not minded staying here before and some of the boats that had made us feel uneasy a month or so ago had moved on, leaving their rubbish behind mind!

A walk was needed. I plotted out a route that would hopefully have me back long before dark, up to the cathedral, round the castle and back along the canal. I found a footpath that took me up the hill on the other side of the canal. Here there were vast posh houses, the road markings blue not yellow! I’d entered the Nottingham Park Estate. I walked past about twelve tennis courts. Came across a road called Tunnel Road, this had to be investigated as I could see houses high up above.

The entrance to the tunnel

Tunnel Road is a Grade 2 listed tunnel that was carved out of the rock to give access, quite an entrance, to The Park Estate in 1855. Carved through sandstone it was to give access to horse-drawn carriages from Derby Road. It is 125m long and has a section open to the sky in the middle to give ventilation and light, here a staircase climbs up around to reach Ropewalk and Upper College Street. The incline ended up being too steep for horses and carriages so a different route into The Park was found for them.

I didn’t fancy climbing all those steps

I walked round some more seriously posh streets, past the Nottingham Playhouse, found a very steep set of steps that brought me down to near the castle and then followed the tourists down the hill further to pass Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem pub then the canal and Oleanna. Mick had popped a couple of potatoes, double wrapped in foil in the fire box of the stove. I then popped some left over chilli in a pan, got it up to simmering temperature on the hob and then moved it over to the stove top to carry on bubbling away whilst the potatoes finished cooking inside. I get pleasure from cooking on and in our stove in the cooler months of the year.

Tourist central

2 locks, 8.3 miles, 1 cat on sofa rest, 2 bags coal, 76.4 litres diesel, 1 coal boat helped down, 1 scraping along the bottom, 2 hyperactive kids, 17 pennywort rafts, 1 box of wine, 1 plan changed, 1 thinner rope required, 105th pair of socks cast on, 49 minutes brisk walking, 1 hill climbed, 125m tunnel 2 steep for carriages, 2 jacket potatoes.

https://what3words.com/whips.hurry.coins

Is It A Car? Is It A Boat? 21st September

2 Replies

Trent Lock to Turnover Bridge 19, Beeston Cut

‘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.

https://what3words.com/slick.miss.dizzy

No Running! 18th September

2 Replies

The Wharf, Shardlow to above Derwent Mouth Lock

A damp morning, the precipitation managed to increase just as the Sainsburys van arrived with our shopping, meaning Mick and the driver got slightly soggy along with our shopping. Despite this it was a good place for a delivery as the van could park right alongside us.

Pushing off

Once things had dried up a touch we pushed off and headed to moor above Derwent Mouth Lock to give Tilly some shore leave. I walked and Mick brought Oleanna, there’s not much further for me to walk as we’ll be back on the rivers soon.

Tilly was granted shore leave for the remainder of the day. It’s okay here I suppose!

After lunch I headed out for a walk. A quick check of the river level, under the green marker so we should be okay for a while longer. Then across the top of the lock joining a footpath that follows the bywash then cuts across a field to the banks of the River Derwent.

I seemed to have caused a mass exodus, all the sheep walking in line to the next field. One stopped to look at me, ‘You go on ahead, I’ll follow you’ I said. I waited for them all to pass before cutting across the field.

The River Derwent

The flow down the river was pretty good, it should aid us heading down stream tomorrow. Across more fields, flood banks marking the edges. Horses came for a nosy. A glimpse of Shardlow Hall, now an old peoples residence. I made sure I didn’t run anywhere, although there weren’t any cows in the field. Down a snicket back to the main road through Shardlow.

I then chose to walk round the rest of The Wharf, passing some lovely houses, a few conversions and some modern. Shardlow is a very pretty place, one that was once a major trans-shipment river port, with goods moving from river to canal in the 18th Century.

House to the left. House to the right.

We pottered away the rest of the day. Me waiting for an approved props list from John for panto. A few emails were sent regarding boating plans and phone calls were made too.

Pretty cars too

I then had a hunt for the scans of my Dad’s diary from 1943 to 1946. I wanted to see if he’d ever been posted to King’s Newton. The nearest he’d been was a camp on Bowbridge Road in Newark. I looked to see where he’d been on the 18th September 1945. Sailing through the Bay of Biscay headed for India, it was a very rough journey, his description of the way the ship was rolling in the swell makes me even more wary of lumpy waters. He did however manage to down two servings of afternoon tea, a cuppa and a bun, then his evening meal. He and the other officers were travelling in the first class accommodation and he was enjoying the food, well, when he wasn’t seasick!

September 18th 1945

Tonight we had salmon crumble, this should have been a fish crumble but Sainsburys didn’t have the fish pie mix so we got salmon steaks instead.

0 locks, 0.6 miles, 3 boxes wine, 2 salmon steaks, 1 squash, 0 new toothbrush! 0 neighbours, 69 brisk minutes, 0 cows, 39 sheep, 0 running, 1 props list at 10pm, 13 years without my Dad.

https://what3words.com/label.freely.palm

Out In The Open. 14th September

Leave a Reply

Massey’s Bridge, a little bit further on

Breakfast, poached eggs and mushrooms on toast this morning. Then 16,000 views, weighty porridge, poor Olive and Sue Pollard were all topics of conversation on the Geraghty zoom.

Route 6 on the viaduct

With rain forecast for this afternoon followed by strong winds tomorrow we opted to move sooner rather than later away from any trees that might come down. I walked ahead to check for a suitable mooring, more or less back where we’d moored a couple of weeks ago. Only 0.1 mile, but that would do for us.

A quick comfort break for me before I strode off on a walk, hoping to return before the rain set in.

The towpath here is a lovely surface for cyclists and today they were making the most of it, but soon they veer off onto the old viaduct heading to Melbourne. I popped up to have a look at it myself. A great view back towards Swarkstone. Messages have been added to the iron work to encourage exercise, with bees and butterflies to jolly things up even more.

There was a great big hole

Back on the towpath I carried on to Weston Lock, where I turned towards the Trent. The path became more and more muddy, soon the reason why became obvious. A large gravel pit with diggers, in fact just about the whole north bank has been taken over, very glad I’d put my walking boots on today as the mud in places was quite deep.

The Priest House

I’d walked down here to check to see if the hotel across the way was where we’d attended a wedding a few years ago. We’d considered mooring NB Lillyanne by Weston Lock, but the lack of river crossing meant we’d ended up in a hotel in Castle Donnington. It was The Priest House. A little less idyllic today from the north bank surrounded by diggers and then there was the roar of cars going round Donington Park Racetrack. The car park looked busy though, maybe racing drivers staying at the hotel.

I nearly came a cropper in this puddle

I walked along the river bank until the path brought me to more gravel works, a lake marked on the OS map had very little water in it, but a good quagmire of mud to wade through. Under the railway and then along quite a good track to the canal, crossing over it at Weston Grange.

Weston on Trent was founded in 1012 by King Ethelred the Unready. Weston Lock on the canal was built in 1770. The village was split in two when the Midland Railway branch line was built in 1873, and a station served the village until the 1920’s.

Coopers Arms

Lots of cars seemed to be heading up towards Weston Hall which is now the Coopers Arms, a popular carvery by the looks of it overlooking a lake. It was built by Thomas Roper in 1633 and is one wing of what would have been a much larger stately home, however the rest f it was never built.

I could hear the tinkle of a bell, bigger than the one Tilly wears. A look across the field I was about to enter I could see a chap walking with a bird of prey on his arm, sadly I’d missed it in flight.

St Mary The Virgin

Next came St Mary The Virgin Church, which dates back to around 1280. Many of the grave stones have been moved to the edges of the yard. Quite a few of them have been carved from what looks like slate. A line of them dating back to 1769, whoever carved them had a very curly style, very flamboyant, but it does make them a touch hard to read.

A path brought me down to Hospoda, Ukrainian Country Social Club which was quite unexpected. Down a steep path back to the canal. The little bit of dampness in the air thankfully held off really going for it until I was back, tucked up inside Oleanna.

The social club

The rain came down, Tilly insisted on exploring, returning very soggy and muddy. The rain came down more, there must have been quite a social gathering in the sideways trees to keep Tilly outside for so long! Some work on panto filled the afternoon until we popped a chicken in the oven to roast.

0 locks, 0.1 miles, 6.21 miles walked, 103 brisk minutes, 2 heavy muddy boots, 1 very soggy afternoon, 1 soggy moggy, 1 file of cloths for printing sent, 6 sketches requested for Separate Doors, 1 roast chicken.

https://what3words.com/glow.probing.plump

Legs. 9th September

1 Reply

Mercia Marina to Lowes Bridge 15

An hours shore leave before we pushed off this morning. I’ve been having difficulty accessing documents in the Chippy shared folder for panto, so some emails needed to be sent about it so I could finish updating the props list.

A few boats were moving so we joined in, pootling along to our next mooring which we hope will serve us well for a couple of days. I walked as Mick brought Oleanna behind. The wooded areas along the canal are rather pleasant, in amongst them there are a few ponds and ditches. When the railway was built, ballast was required for the tracks, suitable material was found at nearby sites. When the gravel was dug out the holes that were left filled with water, the biggest became known as Ballast Hole Pond. However when the power station was built in the 1950’s the ash produced needed to go somewhere and landowners were paid to fill in the ponds and ditches on their land. I’m sure the amount of ash far exceeded the local area and other places had to be found for it’s disposal.

O dear, hope that wasn’t the banner we lost on the River Trent!

Two volunteers were clearing pennywort from above Stenson Lock, they asked where my boat was, not far behind, I was the advanced party. No sign of boats arriving below so the lock could be filled. No sign of boats arriving from behind to join us so we descended the lock on our own, bywashes happily running along this stretch of the canal. Chatting to the volunteers, we were their second boat of the day, they needed four more to beat Sundays record of five. It certainly feels that all the boats on a dash back to there home moorings have achieved their goals, and now it is continuous cruisers and the occasional boat from a marina just nudging their way along the cut. Most boats are becoming quite familiar now.

Stenson Lock

Handing my windlass back to Mick I then walked the near three miles towards Swarkstone Lock. A few emails came in regarding the budget for panto. At least one major item wasn’t mentioned, I quickly sent a note to the production manager. Two months ago the budget looked good if we could nudge the build cost down just a touch, but today we were now a couple of thousand over! Oh blimey, the last thing I want to be doing now is amending things, especially two months after the Final Design meeting. The producer was doing their best to find the extra, but I know there will need to be some cuts as we still haven’t had the price in for one element of the set and I really don’t think the amount being suggested for foliage and roses is enough and that is an element that can’t be scrimped on! So my walk today wasn’t one of enjoying the scenery.

Today’s mood

The railway hugs the canal for some distance and then moves away. I’d made notes of possible Tilly friendly moorings on our way west, now we hoped there would be space for us. The first stretch had several boats, generators running. I walked ahead to the next stretch under a bridge. A slightly more open aspect, armco and a good stretch away from the road bridge to be happy to let Tilly out.

An afternoon of exploring for Tilly, props list updating for me and a snooze for Mick. A catch up phone call with Frank who is so far coping well with his treatment. I order him his repeat prescriptions and am a little bit out of sync with it at the moment.

Deena’s Duck socks

Time to send off the latest pair of socks, I found the nearest post box which was down towards the River Trent and strode off, crossing the railway and fighting my way through all the traffic queueing to cross the river. I walked back around the houses picking up more free apples and pears on route. Sock pair, I think 102, have arrived with Deena so I can now show you her socks. Her word was DUCK. So I chose to knit some Mandarin Duck socks.

Long evening legs

After an afternoon of exploring the new outside, Tilly returned with a bit of a limp. She won’t tell me what happened, bit has let me feel her legs and paws, nothing obvious. We’ll see what she’s like in the morning.

Chilli again tonight. The rest will go in the freezer.

1 lock, 4.4 miles, 2 outsides, 1 big Grrrr! 100 brisk minutes, 2 very long legs, 1 limping leg, 103 socks dispatched, 2 apples, 2 pairs.

https://what3words.com/tester.broached.bead

Knock Loudly. 25th August

High Bridge Aqueduct to opposite Willington Services

Puzzles on a Monday morning again. I’m obviously out of practice as the first one got the better of me. Maybe next week I’ll do better. No rush to go anywhere today, other than to top up with water.

Boats were moving before us, some that had gone that way in the last couple of days were returning, maybe boaters out for the Bank Holiday weekend. Others still had a sense of purpose trying to beat the drought stoppages, although we are quite a distance away from the locks to be closed later today.

Heading to Willington

We pushed off, our main aim for the day to fill with water and hope to get a suitable mooring for a supermarket delivery in Willington. As I walked ahead I noted that the next slightly better mooring, further away from the road and railway was empty this morning. Ten years ago we sat here waiting for Dallow Lock to be mended, maybe we’ll return to it in the next few days.

The boat ahead of us winded and reversed back onto the service mooring, we breasted up, holding our place in the possible queue. A load of washing went on, enough water for that job and sufficient to give Tilly’s pooh box a refresh. A do-ci-do was performed once the other boat had finished and we could fill our water tank.

The bin enclosure was overflowing. Three Biffa bins, their lids unable to close and bags of stuff piled all around them. Years ago up on the Macc we heard from a CRT chap that when this happens the Biffa employees will not empty the bins, because they can’t get to them to empty them, their job is to empty bins and not lift bags of rubbish out of the way to get to them. As we filled with water, more people arrived and just added to the mountain, we wondered how long it had been since the bins were last emptied and how long before they were due to be emptied again? Every extra bag of rubbish left on the floor becoming a greater problem and expense for CRT who have to send someone with a van to move the rubbish and take it to a tip. This person could be doing far more important things than moving rubbish!

We kept our general rubbish, but made use of the food waste bin. Tilly’s litter could wait for another day or two and not be added to the mountain.

A boat moved off just opposite, the perfect place for a delivery, we were quick enough to grab the mooring and then placed an order with Sainsburys. Oleanna sat in the shade for a few hours before the bright hot sun moved to heat up the cabin sides. Sadly Tilly would have to remain disappointed as being right next to a car park meant shore leave would be cancelled for the remainder of the day.

So near and yet so much piled up rubbish!

During the afternoon a Biffa bin waggon arrived. Single handing, the driver looked at the compound, took some photos then left without touching anything. We then watched as more rubbish arrived and was left surrounding the bins, we also saw someone empty two cassettes, then leave them. They and the bags of cushions are not domestic waste.

Late afternoon when the temperature had started to drop I headed off to add more minutes to my walking today. I had a destination in mind.

There they are!

Willington Power Station was actually two power stations, built between Willington and Twyford in the 1950’s. Power Station A had four 104MW generating units, each burning 1,000 tons of coal a day when on full load, creating 200 tons of ash. Willington B opened in 1962 with two 200MW generating units which burnt 2,000 tons of coal a day and 400 tons of ash. So when on full load the power station required 8,000 tons of coal a day the majority of which was delivered by rail. Power was delivered to the surrounding area as well as London and Bristol.

Closer

Willington A was closed in 1995 and B in 1999. The vast majority of the site was demolished, leaving the five cooling towers still standing boldly close to the road. There were plans to build 1000 houses, which were refused planning permission, but a new gas power station was granted permission. I can’t find anything about them being listed, they have survived for 25 years, maybe they’ll continue to be a landmark in Willington.

I obviously took many photos. Just what was the doorway used for all the way up there, only one handle to hold onto! You’d have to knock loudly. Eek!!!

Closer photos can be found on the 28 days later website, there are some great drone photos.

Such pleasing shapes when the sky is blue.

It was far too hot to do any cooking this evening so I boiled the kettle, made up some GF couscous, added the left over roast veg from yesterdays roast and a few other bits and bobs from the fridge, creating a very nice salad.

0 locks, 1.9 miles, 1 full water tank, 3 overflowing bins, 1 biffa visit, 1 clean pooh box, 1 empty yellow water tank, 5 sturdy cooling towers, 76 brisk minutes, £2.55 for blueberries, 1 shopping delivery, 1 hot day, how many more paddlocks and chains around lock gates from this afternoon?

https://what3words.com/interviewer.cones.bounding

Smoking Chimney. 24th August

Marston Visitor Moorings to High Bridge Aqueduct

Shobnall weathervane

A cuppa in bed with the newspaper, followed by the Geraghty zoom. Acorn coffee and flour, Jelly bags, underwater feeders, trench foot and not going out on a Bank Holiday Monday were topics this morning.

We were just about to push off to when a boat was heading towards us, we were wanting to return to the winding hole behind so waited for them to come past. However they were also turning, but then pulled in just beyond the narrow opening to Shobnall Marina as a boat was already tucked away in there getting topped up and emptied. As Mick brought Oleanna to the winding hole he soon aborted his manoeuvre as the boat that had seemingly seemed to be busy had now finished and was about to turn back out onto the canal. I went to chat with the other boat, yes they were heading in through the bridge for a pump out but we could wind first. I waved Mick on, he winded apologising to the anglers right by the mouth of the marina, he didn’t get a reply just a grimmace. What did they think setting up where boats are guaranteed to be turning!

Coming into Dallow Lock

Dallow Lock was neither full nor empty, I waited for Oleanna to be in sight before topping it up, it’s a quick lock to work so we were soon on our way hoping for a mooring around Bridge 29. We were in luck a space with armco a little way on, we pulled in and had an early lunch.

Whilst on the train the other day, I’d looked up what there was to do around Burton. High up on the list was a visit to Claymills Victorian Pumping Station. On further investigation we discovered that this weekend it was going to be steam! We are finally in the right place at the right time for somewhere to be open and with engines working away as they once did day in day out! Hooray!! We weren’t going to miss this.

Black smoke!

At Bridge 29 there is a sign with directions to follow, it also says that if you can see black smoke coming from the chimney then it’s a steaming day. Sure enough there was a little plume of black smoke curling up to the sky. We crossed the busy road and headed on, the aroma from the sewage works drawing us onwards.

Claymills Pumping Station

Back in the day, 1859, when Burton was making pints and pints of beer the River Trent was one flowing stinking river. For every pint of beer made the brewers put eight pints of used water back into the river. It stank and the river was dying. The first solution was to send all the waste water downhill to where Claymills was built. Here the sewage was left in beds so the solids would sink to the bottom, the cleaner water was then put back into the river. This however didn’t work, the river still stank.

The next idea was to pump the sewage to a farm 3 miles away at Egginton, fields in turn had a layer of sewage poured onto them, this was then ploughed in. It still stank! The next move was to add lime into the mix, this was mixed into the sewage, then the mix pumped out to the farm. The 27inch diameter pipes suffered, unsurprisingly with lime scale which had to be chipped out. Today nobody told us whether this process actually worked to stem the stench, but it must have gone someway to helping with the 20 million litres of sewage a day!

Not enough!

The pumping station operated with four beam engines, steam being provided by five Lancashire-type boilers. These were run on coal, but today they were trying out Bio Mass as an alternative. The pumping station is classed as a Traction Engine so it is allowed to burn coal, but should the day come when they have to stop, bio mass may well be the fuel they have to use. Today you could hear the numerous volunteers mumbling and some quite audibly complaining about the lack of psi the eco mass was giving, sadly not enough to get all four beam engines up and running, however B and D were busy pumping away.

Today you can walk into both engine houses, climb the spiral staircases and walk on the metal mesh floor looking down on those three floors below. I’m not keen on heights and after about five minutes up the top I’d had enough, the beam engines were amazing but their constant movement shuddered the floor.

Down to the rear of the engine houses between them is the Boiler House. Here several chaps sat about chatting. One fella was deep in conversation with another in overalls, should they add coal into the mix to get the pressure up? Another chap poked and prodded the boilers, topped the hoppers at the top up with more of the lumps of greenish bio mass, a hot place to work.

Victorian through and through

The pumping continued until 1971 when a new pumping treatment plant was installed next door, the Victorian buildings were left to decay. In1986 the buildings were listed and the owners Severn Trent appealed for volunteers to look after the engines, as a result the current trust was formed. During the years of decay anything brass had been stolen, various parts removed to other museums. Restoration work commenced in 1993.

By 2023, after 30 years of work all four beam engines had been restored to operational condition along with two boilers. They worked hard to bring back to the site other original steam engines, these have all now been restored and are back working on days like today.

The steam powered workshop has been restored, belts criss cross around the building providing power to all the machines. Next door is the dynamo house with its 1889 Crompton Dynamo, the oldest in-situ working dynamo set in the UK. If the bio mass had been giving them a higher psi then this building would have been shut to the public, only being able to peer in from behind a gate. But there was no danger of falling on live things today. Alongside the Crompton Dynamo with all its posh brass is a self built dynamo which was made from whatever the engineers could get their hands on. If you worked at the pumping Station and lived in site, you got free electricity.

Outside people had brought other items of interest. Numerous Austin cars, a Renault, a fire engine from Aldermaston, vintage varieties of apples, a cuddly woofer. Numerous people walked the site in overalls, from the age of nine to eighty something. Pulling levers, oil and grease ingrained everything except the apples and the polish on the cars. No fancy paintwork on the engines, just hard sweaty oily red, pumping pumping away, well apart from Engine A that needed more psi. What an interesting place and well worth visiting on a steam day if you can catch one of the seven weekends a year.

Back at Oleanna we wanted to move on away from the busy road, some shore leave required by Tilly today. Only a mile got us away, only just, from the A38 and the railway tracks, an hour and a quarter was awarded to the second mate. I set about sussing out how much less time we’d need the oven on to cook a spatchcocked chicken. The temperature outside had been creeping up most of the day, but our tummies were requesting roast chicken. I cut the backbone from the chicken, leant on the breast bone and flattened it. Pulled out the roasting tin that normally only gets used for roasting duck with it’s lift out rack, hopefully this would reduce the oven time by at least half an hour.

The chicken turned out very juicy, took an hour to cook, just a slight adjustment to get the other veg browned and job done, a Sunday roast without us getting too roasted ourselves. What a good Sunday.

1 lock, 3.7 miles, 1 wind, 1 smoking chimney, £10, £9 OAP, 4 beam engines, numerous other engines,1 Renault, 1 woofer, 361 volunteers, 8 varieties apple, 20 not 60, A not wanting anything of it, 1 flattened chicken, 2 beers, 1 good Sunday.

https://what3words.com/strut.scavenger.blissful

Straight Out Of An Agatha Christie Novel. 12th August

Retford and Worksop Boat Club to Log Rural Mooring

There was the hire car to return this morning, a Sainsburys delivery to arrive, water to fill up and the yellow water to empty. Mick headed off to Worksop with the car, he thought he’d topped it up, but according to the computer and Enterprise it needed another 2 litres of petrol! Soon sorted and he got a lift back to the boat club where I was waiting for our shopping. We swapped over and I headed back to fill with water then stow our shopping.

Thank you RWBC for our lovely stay with you

Phil this weeks warden arrived a bit after 11 to read the electric meter for us, we now needed to go down and pay at the club house along with using the elsan for the yellow water. All checked out and our dues paid. Thank you to the boat club for a very friendly stay. Having electric was great, over the 8 days we’ve stayed with them we used a little over £8 and did quite a few wash loads and used the immersion heater and topped our bully boy batteries right up.

Our aimed for mooring was quite a distance away so I hitched a ride. We’d already gone a few miles when I decided on my walking plan, I’d hop off at Wiseton and walk on from there, we’d have lunch at Drakeholes then carry on. Mick checked that he’d given me the key of power after using the elsan. No he hadn’t. Maybe he’d left it at the bow when stowing the yellow water container. No he hadn’t. I checked everywhere inside, doing a girl look rather than a boy look. No. A phone call back to Phil at the boat club, Mick thought it might be on the window cil in the service block. Phil rang back, it was there, he’d happily drop it off with us at Wiseton as he had a job to do using his car. What a star, that saved either my legs walking or Mick cycling back for it. It only took Phil five minutes to catch us up and drop off the key.

Woodbine Cottage

I walked into Wiseton whilst Mick carried on along the canal. Blimey I’d just walked into an Agatha Christie Novel. Straight ahead was Woodbine Cottage built 1830, with it’s white picket fence, lead windows and ivy covered frontage. I turned left hoping to find a track which would lead back to the canal further on, only to stumble on a For Sale sign.

You’d need a sit on lawnmower for that lawn

Cedar Cottage built around 1860. What a lawn and flower beds. Yours for £515,000 quite a period piece.

Further on were big wrought iron gates, no view of the hall. A hunt round on the internet suggests a new hall was built in 1771 for Jonathon Acklam. This was extended in 1787 by William Lindley of Doncaster. During WW2 the house became badly dilapidated and ended up being demolished in 1960. In it’s place a Neo-Georgian house was built for Major General Robert Laycock in 1962 on his return from the governorship of Malta. It stayed in the Laycock family until 1992 when it was sold to a colliery owner Richard Budge who then sold it in 2012. More info on the hall can be found here.

The Stables

Opposite the gates is an extensive stables block built 1899. Sadly private signs are everywhere so the track I’d hoped to walk was out of bounds. But every cloud has a silver lining as it meant I got to walk past more wonderful houses.

Look at those Chimneys!

I stopped to take a look at the octagonal chimney stacks. I said hello to a fellow sat outside, he told me that the houses used to be the Laundry for the Hall and the large chimneys were needed for the big fires under the coppers used to boil up the washing. I congratulated him for having such a wonderful house and chimney.

Under Lady’s Bridge 72

Back onto the canal I soon caught up with Oleanna going under Lady’s Bridge where I’d hoped to walk to from the village. The 2 day moorings were full at Drakeholes so we pulled in at the end to have lunch in the shade, it was starting to get really quite warm out there.

Gate Houses for the old hall

Now to walk the last stretch of the canal that I’d missed on the way up, over the top of Drakeholes Tunnel. I paused to say goodbye to the people on NB Misfit from the boat club then carried on up the grassy bank. I thought that the tunnel carried on under the road, which gave me a chance to look at The Duck which recently closed. Opposite behind fencing are the gate houses for Wiseton Hall (early 19th C) which look like they are undergoing renovation. I soon noticed my mistake and back tracked to walk along a gravel track leading to the other side of the tunnel.

Gringley Lock

I reached the locks before Oleanna and had time to set them, it did take a while before I could open the top gates as below the water was boiling out from under the gates. At Shaw Lock I spotted a stall at the nearby farm house, so once Oleanna was down I went to have a look. A lot of homemade chutneys and sauces for sale along with some veg. I suspect the owners have had enough marrows as these were free! Having just stocked up on veg I didn’t feel the need to help them out.

Not much further the Log Rural Mooring came into view, no boats moored so we could choose the shadiest section. Chairs were put outside in the shade and Tilly was given a couple of hours of towpath time.

A barbeque was on the cards this evening. Salmon with ginger and lemongrass, potato salad and sweetcorn. All slowly cooked over the coals. At one point it started to rain, Mick brought a brolli out, but it really wasn’t going to spoil anything and soon everything had dried up in time for us to eat. A perfect mooring for a hot afternoon, shame we don’t think we’ll find one for tomorrow.

Yum

2 locks, 6.4 miles, 1 tunnel, 1 full water tank, 4 boxes wine, £8.37 electric, 1 left key of power (which do have our phone number on them!), 1 hero Phil, 1 Agatha Christie village, 5 moving boats! 84 brisk minutes, 29C, 2 rain showers, 2 salmon steaks, 2 cobs, 1 bowl potato salad, 4 glasses wine, 2.5 hours after cat curfew permitted shore leave.

https://what3words.com/dating.juggle.guests

Phoebe Anna Traquair. 27th July

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.

St Peter’s

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.

A good door handle

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!

The east window

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.

The north wall

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.

On the south side

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.

A clear path

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.

Views!

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?

Another archway of trees

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.

Another Gateway

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.

Lolling on the grass

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.

Waiting Day (3). 20th July

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.

A rare meaty breakfast

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.

Chipped back to the brick

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.

More boats

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!

Waiting for the train to pass

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.

Inside sock

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.

A bigger queue

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.