Category Archives: History

Trams And Trees. 6th October

County Hall Steps

My turn today for a flu jab, sadly I don’t get a free one, too young. Last year I opted for a jab as we had David staying at the house and the Christmas show company in Scarborough were passing something round that I really didn’t want. Best to keep on with it as I’ll soon be mixing with numerous people in Chippy.

I marched up into the city centre, a mile and a half away to the chemists Mick had been to, I’d managed to book an appointment yesterday. A sit around for a while before I was seen and a complimentary blood pressure check was thrown in, well I’m over 40 so they get offered. Then back through town. A far more direct route was found than Google had been offering me.

**Standing in This Place by Rachel Carter**

Mick had tried calling Castle Marina on Saturday to see if they might be able to accommodate Oleanna for a couple of nights, he’d even filled out a mooring request form on line. Tumble weed. He had a go at ringing them again this morning and finally had luck. We were found on their system and quoted £19 a night including electric. He booked us in. Our other options had been to moor on the towpath in Beeston, or to have spent a couple of days going up the Erewash Canal to Langley Mill. Oleanna has yet to go up the Erewash, but we’d rather not be on a schedule and have spare days should there be any problems with levels.

**We’ll need a bigger bag than this when we go away!**

Over lunch we put the rest of our plan into action, booking train tickets, theatre tickets, checking there’d be room for us and booking a table to eat. Now we just had to decide what to do with the rest of the day.

The Justice Museum? Some art? It was a lovely warm day so we opted to stay outdoors.

We walked up stream to catch a tram to the other side of Nottingham, hopping off at the High School stop. This is very close to the uphill entrance to the Arboretum. I’d downloaded a PDF guide to the special trees so we knew where to find them as we sauntered around.

**A very nice place to sit in the sunshine**

The Arboretum is the oldest park in Nottingham, opened in 1852 by Mayor, Mr W Felkin and the Sheriff of the Borough, Mr Ball, in front of 30,000 people. It has a collection of over 800 trees some of which date back to the parks opening day. Today it is very popular with students, Nottingham Trent University more or less surrounding the park.

Way back in my twenties I applied to Trent Poly to do Theatre Design, in fact I applied two years running and was rejected twice. I don’t think I could talk the Trendy Bollocks* they wanted. I wonder where I’d have ended up had I been admitted. Have to say the day after my second interview I had my second interview at Croydon College (they’d offered me a place the year before), a more practical course. As I walked into the interview the course leader and scenic tutor welcomed me back and I realised I’d only wanted to go to Trent because it was still in the north! I’m quite happy they rejected me now.

**Quite a few of the trees have lines round them, what’s this about? Anyone know?**

In the park there were 36 trees for us to spot, all with signs by their trunks so it wasn’t hard. They ranged from a Red Oak to a Pagoda Tree to an Armenian Hawthorn to an Indian Horse Chestnut and possibly the oldest tree in the park the Cut-leaf Alder which is nearing its end, no leaves to show us today.

There’s a band stand, which had its shutters down. A Chinese Bell Tower with canons facing out to each corner. A fruit and Nut garden still in its early stages of growth. The Aviaries. Here it took us a while to see any birds. Locals donate birds which are cared for by the park staff. There were four of five Cockatiels with their blusher pink cheeks. The circular Aviary is Grade 2 and was built in 1892. Not only did birds inhabit the aviary, but there were famous visitors to the park, Henry the Goose and Cocky the Cockatoo who was brought to the gardens to amuse the children, a local paper reported his death at the alleged age of 114.

This morning I’d had the set builder of panto call and this afternoon there was yet another set of proofs to approve for the printing. I went through them with a fine tooth comb, raising a couple of questions. Either I’m not making sense, or the company have come from a very different background to theatre so the language is different between industries. Hopefully soon, very soon they’ll press the big red PRINT button.

0 locks, 0 miles, 2 trams, 1 jab, 2 high, 1 cupboard to another, 98 brisk minutes, 2 interviews remembered, 1 trip coming together, 0 chocolate, 0 crumble again, 0 soup again, 36 trees, well 800, 4 canons, 1 final email?! 2 plates of creamy cabbage chicken pasta.

*Trendy Bollocks. A line from the play Beautiful People by Neil Monaghan, produced in October 2002 at the SJT.

Jingle Genocide. 4th October

Up For Bargus. 27th September

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

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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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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

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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.

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 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.

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!

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

Legs. 9th September

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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Narrowboat Oleanna

Travels of Narrowboat Oleanna