Ten Mile Bank GOBA mooring to Jubilee Gardens, Ely
Eleanor sneaking past as we drank tea
The curtains on the porthole in the bedroom were pushed aside this morning so that we could spy for any passing boats as we had our cuppa in bed. NB Eleanor pushed off from behind us and I think a cruiser also came past. As we had breakfast, rolled up the covers we kept an eye open for a boat we’ve yet to meet, but there was still no sign. We needed to get moving to secure a mooring in Ely. Our paths, with the yet to meet boat, will cross at some point.
Blue skies and wind
Today was still windy, is it always so down here on the flat lands? Another blue and green day.
Hello again
We passed WB Karma, biped our horn, but no one was about, Klaud or Kato had been left in charge of the wheelhouse, a head bobbing up to see who was disturbing his snooze.
We passed the sad house, the last pylon in a line, the closed moorings at Littleport where the ducks, moles and weeds are enjoying themselves with no boaters around to disturb them.
Then the long straight sections towards Ely, the occasional slight bend and the turn off to the River Lark. Onwards. We were gradually catching up with a boat ahead who were overtaken by rowers. Then it was time to seek out a mooring.
Back to back rowing, going nowhere
Where we’d been before was chocka, but further along nearer the bars there were a few spaces. We pulled in at the bottom of Jubilee Gardens, hopefully here would be far enough away from any cars for Tilly to possibly have some shore leave.
Maybe there? Avoiding the trip boat mooring of course
The overhang on the mooring meant deploying the fat fender and a wheel to save the cabin side. The boat behind us was nicely wedged under the edge! The doors were opened and we waited to see what Tilly made of it.
Or there?
She stood, had a look this way and that, then scurried through a gap in the passing legs to find some sideways trees to lurk around. We wondered if she’d ever make it back for us to be able to go out this evening, but thankfully she succeeded requesting to have her evening ding ding early!
Our evening ding ding, not bad for a gluten free fish
Around 6pm there was a tap on the roof, Heather Bleasdale. She’d been up to see her, new to her boat that is having work done to it further upstream. Chats over a cuppa on board were followed by fish and chips at RBK. The fish was very large and the chips exceedingly hot. We whiled away a few hours catching up on news and comparing notes of our travels. Hopefully her new boat will be back on the water soon and we might meet up somewhere.
Denver EA Mooring to Wiggenhall St Mary Magdalen EA Mooring
Mushrooms ala Mick
It felt like a Sunday today, so with not much in the fridge except mushrooms Mick cooked them up and we had them on a couple of slices of toast for breakfast. Then it was time to move on, we couldn’t dally as we needed to find a suitable mooring.
Denver Sluice
Around Denver there are all sorts of structures, sluices here there and everywhere. We headed over to the east towards the Relief Channel Lock. Here two sets of pointing gates drop you down onto the Relief Channel, the lock is fully automated, despite the instructions suggesting you need a windlass.
Time for the Abloy Key of Power, our key ring is getting a touch full. A boat had just gone down the lock, so the bottom gates needed closing then the lock filling for us to enter. This lock is a slow filler, thank goodness you don’t have to keep your finger on the button! It is also a slow emptier the slackers/paddles only moving by about foot, so you have to be patient as your boat slowly drops the 2meters. It was nice to be changing height again, but I have to say I miss working locks.
Going down!
Vermuyden back in the 1640’s, proposed works to help relieve the Ely Ouse of extra water, but it wasn’t until 1964 that the Relief Channel and Cut Off Channel were constructed. The Cut Off Channel diverts waters away from the Rivers Wissey, Little Ouse and Lark in times of flood by partially closing the rivers. The extra water runs towards Denver where the Impounding Sluice joins it to the Relief Channel, taking the waters 11 miles further downstream before it joins the Tidal Great Ouse near Kings Lynn.
Turning below the lock, Cut Off Channel behind
In 2001 the lock connecting the channel to the River Great Ouse, above Denver, was constructed and three sets of visitor moorings added.
The Channel is wide, deep and fairly straight. Today it was windy out there. Swans took off in front of us hoping to loose us, only to find we’d catch them up again, necessitating another take off, time and time again, until they either diverted their route to behind us or over towards the tidal river.
Downham Market moorings chocka
The first mooring at Downham Market is long, able to hold quite a few boats. Today it was very full, good job we’d not been wanting to stop there today. Our guide book suggests that there is more to the town than just Haygates flour mill, which sits alongside the channel. The town used to be renowned for it’s butter market, moving large quantities up to Cambridge on the river.
Not many bridges around here
The next mooring follows at Stowbridge close to a pub. Today two narrowboats filled the pontoon busy with boat chores, everyone waved as we waved back. Another half hour north we passed under a footbridge where a canoeist lolled with his back to us, we moved over so as not to disturb him.
Would there be space for us?
Then the next and final pontoon at Wiggenhall St Marys Magdalen came into view. There was the cruiser I’d seen at the lock and what looked like a narrowboat, would there be space for us? As we got closer we could see there were two narrowboats breasted up. To our relief a lady came dashing down the ramp and untied the inner narrowboat and starting to pull it back towards the cruiser making space for us. The wind didn’t help us moor as the bow kept being pushed towards the bank which in turn pushed the stern out, but we got there in the end, Oleanna’s bow over hanging the pontoon.
Freddie
The lady from the breasted up pair was very chatty, offered us a lift to the pub tonight and introduced us to Freddie her Irish Terrier. He wanted to come and say hello, but immediately got distracted by a scent, Tilly! Blimey Tilly smelt soo good, he was all over Oleanna as Tilly watched on from the Houdini shelf. She had been hoping that the friendly cover could be explored, but being on a pontoon the health and safety committee had already made their decision. Now with Freddie sniffing the air at the open window where Tilly sat, only an inch or two away, their decision was reinforced!
It took Freddie quite a while to actually be able to see Tilly through the glass. At that moment their noses were less than an inch apart with a sheet of glass thankfully between them, Tilly now three times her normal size! Freddie was immediately put back on a lead and taken inside his boat.
Finishing touches, including some clamping
Summer clothes were retrieved from under the bed a smart shirt brought out to be washed. Winter clothing was not fully stowed away, but that will need to happen before I start on my panto model as my clothes cupboard is where I store it away from feline jaws. Then it was time to finish off my project. Fittings, securing, wires twisted, glue applied, foam added for comfort and a final fitting. All was finished and ready.
Relief Channel on the left, Tidal River Great Ouse right
Time for a walk over Magdalen Bridge which crosses the Tidal River Great Ouse, the tide was out. Down stream of here lies Kings Lynn and then The Wash, which if crossed with the aid of a pilot would take us to Boston and then further north on the River Witham. That trip will be for another time.
A fine looking church
The village was covered in bunting as to be expected. The church sitting proudly in the centre. A fish and chip shop round the next corner smelt good, but I returned up Prophets Lane which led to the river bank and back across the bridge to Oleanna where there would have been just enough room for another boat to breast up alongside us.
Quite a full pontoon
A couple of weeks ago I asked if the Middle Level was as low as we could get on the network. A few days later Paul from Waterway Routes replied with this answer.
The Middle Levels between Ashline and Marmont Priory Locks is maintained at 35cm below Ordnance Datum (approximately seal level), although the level will vary a little after rain etc. The Relief Channel summer level is approximately 98cm below Ordnance Datum (sea level), although this level isn’t maintained particularly accurately so you could be more than a metre below sea level at times.
So we are now the lowest we can be, below sea level!
Swimming below sea level
1 lock, 6.9 miles, 1 right, 1 left, 3 moorings, 2 boats pulled back, 1 Freddie, 3 times bigger, 1 last mooring space, 2 relieved boaters, 2 fixings, 2 fittings, 1 project complete, 1 fridge just about empty.
My father Peter Geraghty was born 100 years ago. Today would have been his 100th birthday, I think we would have had a party!
Born in Hull in the East Riding of Yorkshire. His mother was Olive Geraghty (nee Wright) and his father Tom Geraghty. His father, after serving as an officer in the East Riding Regiment during WWI, was a journalist for the Hull Daily Mail and he ended up as Editor. Olive, as was the norm for the time, looked after the family and home. Peter had an older sister Joan and a younger brother Mark.
Joan, Peter, Mark
Peter went to school in Hull at the St Charles Borromeo School and often told us stories from his childhood of him turning up to school without any shoes or socks! I’m not sure of the accuracy of this and think it was probably his sense of humour coming through.
Teenager
Before WWII the family moved from Hull to the village of Hessle just to the west of the city. They lived on Boothferry Road next door to the Darley’s Arms. At 17, Peter started work in the office of the Hull firm Spillers, known to all as Spillers the Millers (now part of the Rank Hovis group whose logo is “Rank Hovis the Millers” which doesn’t have quite the same ring to it!). He was working here when war broke out in 1939. The office was moved out to Ferriby where it was considered a safer place to be than in the city centre.
Joan, Tom, Peter, Olive and Mark at the back door of 314 Boothferry Road
At age 18 in 1940, he volunteered for service in the RAF. He had to go to Lords cricket ground in London to sign up and so his flying career started. He did some of his training in North America and on completion was assigned to Bomber Command. After various roles he became a Flight Lieutenant at RAF Pocklington in East Yorkshire flying Halifax bombers. After a tour of 40 operations from Pocklington, he carried out further flying duties training pilots on Lancasters.
The aeroplane Peter first flew solo on
On the back. The sensor must have let it through.
Captain and crew at RAF Pocklington. PG in the centre
When the war ended he was demobbed and went back to Hessle. A company was obliged to employ people that had worked for them before the war but Peter was very sure that an office life with Spillers in Hull was not for him and he declined the guaranteed offer of employment. Instead he applied for a job as a pilot with the fledgling British European Airways (BEA). This would mean being based at Northolt airport on the outskirts of London.
For a long time he had been “seeing” Ruth Chignell, also from Hessle and when the war finished he proposed, the proposal was accepted. They were married in May 1947 and with his new job they moved to a house near Northolt Airport.
Peter and Ruth
Ruth and Peter
His flying job meant irregular hours and sometimes being away from home overnight. However BEA only flew to Europe so he was never away long. I suspect this is why he chose BEA rather than the long-haul BOAC. Their first child Christine was born in 1948 followed by Marion in 1950 and Anne in 1952.
Proud Dad
They needed a bigger house so moved to Ealing in 1952. Ealing was chosen as a new primary school St Gregory’s was being built there which was thought to be a “very good school”. It also coincided with BEA moving their operation to London Airport, now known as Heathrow.
I came along in 1958 and my younger sister Kathryn in 1966. All us children went to St Gregory’s and my mother ended up being a Governor. Peter was always a family man, every Saturday morning, if he wasn’t working, he would take all of us children to the local library in Ealing to swap books, followed by hot chocolate and a biscuit in a café on the High Street. And if his flying roster allowed every Sunday morning after church we would go to Kew Gardens (I remember it costing 1d) and back home in time for Sunday Lunch. There were often visits to the museums in South Kensington, my favourite being the Science Museum but sometimes my sisters made us go to one of the others!
Another favourite outing of mine was a visit to the cricket. Often he would take me up to Lords to watch the final session of a Middlesex game, as an MCC member there was free entry. We would sometimes go to a Saturday of the Lords Test Match which was a great day out. He also used to play cricket for Northolt Cricket Club.
Tea Interval
We lived a couple of miles from the Hanwell flight on the Grand Union. A regular walk was to visit what we called “The Six Locks”. Working narrowboats were still in operation (mid 1960s) some of them towed by little towpath tractors. I vividly remember one occasion when we had gongoozled a pair of boats down the flight. At the bottom one of the boaters asked if we wanted a ride to Brentford? Well you can imagine a 7 year old’s excitement at this prospect. But my dad came over all practical and said we had to get home in time for tea! But the seed of interest in canals and boating had been planted. It was about 50 years later that we first took our own boat down the flight and carried on to Brentford.
As I grew older Dad would sometimes, during school holidays, take me to work. We would drive into Heathrow and go into the BEA crew room office. I’d be shown the preparations for flying off somewhere, weather charts, route maps, loading weights, how much fuel to have on board etc.
At the controls
I would then head off on my own to the spectator viewing area (a thing of the past now) and with my VHF air band radio tuned to the ground or tower frequencies I’d watch him take off. If he wasn’t going far (maybe a return trip to Paris) I would wait 2 or 3 hours for him to return then meet him at the car park and get a lift home. If he was going further afield (perhaps a “night stop” Nicosia) I would stay watching aeroplanes all day and then get the bus home.
A view I saw many times.
As a family we would sometimes, but not very often, fly off on foreign holidays. I remember one time we all flew to Germany for a family holiday. When the plane was sitting on the runway preparing for take off our Dad (a Captain with the airline who had indeed captained this very aircraft many times) leant across the aisle and shook all his children by the hand and said “Well, it’s been nice knowing you all”. His sense of humour.
Me and my Dad circa 1968
His career with BEA lasted from 1946 until his retirement in 1977, by which time BEA and BOAC had merged to form British Airways. It was policy then that pilots had to retire at 55, it may still be the case. He started off flying DC3s and Vickers Vikings for BEA, then the Airspeed Ambassador (known in BEA as the Elizabethan because the Queen had just come to the throne!), followed by Vickers Viscounts and Vanguards and ending up as a senior training Captain on the Hawker Siddeley Trident.
Passport 1Passport 2
His family back in Hull had always been staunch Catholics and Peter was the same. He played a big part in the local parish community at Ealing Abbey, always organising things, on various parish committees and for a while was chairman of the Parish Centre. He also played a big part in the running of the parish Youth Club. His religion didn’t get passed on to me though. I think I rebelled at all the religion in my childhood.
In retirement he had more time for his beloved golf, at one time getting his handicap down to single figures. He played at West Middlesex Golf Club then Ealing Golf Club. He left Ealing GC when they introduced a rule that you had to spend a certain amount of money in the bar per year and if you didn’t they would take the money anyway! He wanted to play golf not drink in the bar.
Teeing off on a golfing holiday
Outside the family home in Ealing 1996
My mother finally persuaded him that they could make use of the concessionary travel that British Airways allowed him. But he never travelled extensively for leisure. He was a big worrier and there would have been too much worry that as staff passengers they would be the first to be off loaded should the flight become full.
One trip away
There was also football to be watched and supported. Hull City as a youngster but on moving to West London it was Queens Park Rangers, holding a season ticket there once he retired.
Peter and Christine on their way to Wembley to watch QPR
In his later life he fell ill with Parkinson’s disease, a disease which was also to affect my mother. He accepted his illness stoically for a number of years but eventually in September 2002 he suffered a stroke and passed away. A big funeral was held at Ealing Abbey with many old family friends there. British Airways sent a representative to his funeral which I thought was a lovely thing for them to do.
Peter on his 80th birthday
Happy 100th birthday Dad. Shame we are not celebrating it with you but you can be sure that we are definitely celebrating!
Thank you to John and Kath for helping collect together all the photographs.
The cruiser that went up through the lock yesterday returned, we think they must have been to the end of the navigable Little Ouse to moor overnight, somewhere we can’t go. After breakfast Tilly came back when called so that we could head out to have a look around Brandon and see if I could find some filler for my project.
Nice mooring
We walked upstream along the river to where Brandon Bridge crosses, passing a short narrowboat on it’s home mooring and a winding hole long enough for 40ft boats. Up alongside the busy road was our first view of flint used a lot in the building of houses round here. Today we’d see lots more of it.
Decorative dentist
Brandon is the flint capital of the Brecks. The town has had connections to the mineral for centuries, from flint axe heads to gunflint. Since the Neolithic period flint has been mined in the area, Grime’s Graves, a few miles out of town, is a prehistoric mine dating back to 2800BC. Brandon’s mines and flint knapping trades meant that it was the first choice by the British Army to supply gunflints during the Napoleonic War and in the 1790’s they produced over one million flints a month.
Foxy
On the north bank of the river there is the station and the Suffolk Norfolk border. Here large coaching houses sit opposite each other, it was obviously change over day as people walked along the footpath with large bags of laundry. A quick visit to Aldi came up trumps on the filler front, they also had beetroot so our weeks menu has reverted back to include risotto.
A typical High Street took us away from the the river, large houses sitting next to small terraces. More and more buildings showing off the local flint. Even what must have been the Post Office at one time displayed fractured squares.
The more corners we turned the more flint we’d see even flint cobbles along the side of the road.
Not one blade of grass on the gunnel
Time for an early lunch before we’d head for the lock. As we sat eating two chaps arrived, lawnmower and strimmer to cut round the mooring and lock. After they’d cut along the mooring, one of them returned with a leaf blower removing any grassy residue from Oleanna’s cabin side. The chap then caught Mick’s attention.
He’d come to warn us about the depth just in front of us. Last time they were at the lock there was a narrowboat who tried to wind, he’d put his bow in towards the slipway and turned, his stern getting very well and truly stuck in the silt. The EA chaps ended up having to assist him. The chap said we should have a good look to see where the shallow bits were as it was quite shallow towards the entrance for the lock. We’d done a recky yesterday, the clear water helpful to see the sandy silt below and just how shallow it was in parts.
Tilly the furthest east she’s been
Mick chatted to the chap saying we were hoping to be able to get our bow into the lock, this being the furthest east on the connected network we’d be able to take Oleanna. A photo for the scrap book and the final point (East) ticked off the navigable compass for her. He seemed to think we’d manage it, maybe he was just humouring us! If we ended up in difficulty they would be around for another hour and could lend a hand. If we ended up getting well and truly stuck they would be able to open up the sluice to help flush us out, but they’d need to seek authority to do that first.
It couldn’t be that shallow, surly!
Maybe a touch too close to the sandbank
I pushed off the bow and walked up to the sluice to take photos of Oleanna not fitting in the lock whilst Mick positioned her to turn towards it. The sandbank reaches out quite a long way, so cutting the corner wouldn’t work, an almost 90 degree turn then another were needed. Mick tried and tried. Oleanna’s length and depth just wouldn’t get past the sandbank on the bend, the current from the sluice not assisting in our aim. Just getting back to where we’d started from took some doing! Photo opportunity had to be aborted, we would simply not get to the lock and back out again.
A better angle but still no joy
I was picked up from the mooring. Our guide book suggests leaving your stern rope attached to a bollard on the mooring and then letting the current swing your bow round to wind. But the shallowness and width of the river didn’t look good, we were certain it would not be sufficient to let us turn.
The furthest facing east we were going to get
Mick headed towards the sluice, this would be the furthest east we’d get Oleanna, so at least that ambition could be ticked off as it was the furthest east it was possible to get her.
Winding
He turned the bow towards the lock, reversing back, the current pushed the bow round so far. After some toing and froing, giving the engine some wellie we found ourselves facing the opposite direction. Phew! The only problem was we were stuck, sitting on the bottom!
I headed to the bow, moving weight sometimes helps in such situations. I rocked from side to side a touch. The bow moved, but the stern was held fast. Behind us the river seemed to get shallower and we were too far over towards the lock where it was also too shallow. Blasts of forwards and reverse, no use.
Pooh!
The barge pole was retrieved from the roof. Mick tried pushing the stern out back into what we hoped would be deeper water. I could see an inch or two of movement, or was that just the bow moving round a touch. Every now and then the EA chap looked up from his grass cutting, he’d seen we’d winded and gave us a thumbs up, little did he know we wouldn’t be going anywhere soon!
Nearly!
Then the stern started to move, we reversed back into slightly deeper water. Mick engaged forward gear and pushed the tiller over to get the bow clear of the sandbank. But at the bow I could see this was pointless as we’d be on the bank again. We really needed to go further back, just by another couple of feet to be able to swing and get ourselves free. I shouted back to him. Back into reverse, as soon as the bow would clear of the sandbank I gave him the thumbs up. We had just enough water beneath Oleanna to make the move and swung back into the narrow channel.
Thank ****** for that! We really didn’t want to have the EA chaps open a sluice up for us or be stuck at the most eastern point on the network we could get Oleanna to!
The EA chap now waved and gave us a big thumbs up as we started to make our way back west again. If it gets dredged we’d possibly like to try again, but today nature just stopped us.
Shorn
Our return trip was grey and rainy. We hoped we’d be okay for a night back at the GOBA New Fen mooring, it’s one of those places where you shouldn’t return within 48 hours, but we were returning from the end, anyhow there’d only been one other boat moored there.
Craning in
Recently sheered sheep ran ahead of us. Cows stood up to give us the once over and a peddleo was about to be craned into the water at the nice house. Numerous birds swooped and chatted away around us and the dart of a Kingfisher kept us on our toes.
A windbreak, now that’s an idea
As we rounded the last bend to the moorings we could see boats. Three stretching out along the uneven edge. We pulled in after a hallow section, we were more prepared this time with spikes already in hands. The stern was tied up first, then the bow, followed by the plank being put into action.
Three hours Tilly! She was happy with this new outside!
Filler!
I got on with thinning down some filler and so far it’s done the job I was hoping it would do. It just needs to dry over night before it gets sanded. Then I’ll see if it will need another coat, before some paint and a touch more detailing is applied.
The temperature dropped again at 6pm so the stove was lit for another evening and Tilly’s shore leave was curtailed by half an hour, well our toes were getting mightily cold with a door open!
Last night we’d checked at the pub if it would be okay to stay another day hooked up on the mooring making use of the full 48hours, this was fine. Washing was done, the boiler switched to electric for hot water, the electric kettle used rather than gas.
Claiming just outside the hatch as her own
Tilly was given shore leave with one extra rule, not to go near the railway! I was pretty sure there would be enough to keep her occupied close to the boat not to worry about that climbable tree across the railway lines. She got busy under the brambles between the boat and pub.
When she came back for a drink we closed the doors as it was our turn to head of and explore, with a shopping bag to stock up for a couple of days.
Looking down Main Street
Littleport. We expected a village, farming at it’s soul. Instead we found it to be confused as to it’s size, motorbikes, tailoring and a mass riot amongst the barbers and take aways.
Arum Lilys seem to be popular round here
Back in 1086 Litelport was worth 17,000 eels a year to the Abbots of Ely according to the Doomsday Book. King Canute is said to have founded the village after being given shelter by a fisherman who later was made mayor.
In May 1816 the whole country was struggling to recover from the Napoleonic War, many soldiers returned from the fight to food shortages and unemployment. Local men gathered at The Globe public inn (now one of the two Co-ops). Fuelled by drink their frustrations grew into a riot, shops and houses were broken into and the mass marched on Ely. The Militia were called in from Bury and when order was returned 5 men were hanged, many deported, just about every family on the village was affected.
Times remained hard, many started to move away including William Harley who moved to the USA, his son William Sylvester Harley the co-founder of Harley Davidson Motorcycles. There now stands a sculpture in front of St George’s Church, sadly another church kept locked.
St Georges
On the corner of Globe Lane and Main Street stands a rather grand building with high chimneys and a thatched roof. The only thing giving away it’s former identity is a rearing black horse on the ornate decoration. A former Lloyds Bank built in 1930.
Hope Brothers set up a factory in the village in 1881, three stories for shirt and collar making in White Hart Lane, formed by Thomas Peacock. Ten years later 300-400 women and children were employed, housing had been built for his staff along with a library and social club. During the 40’s and 50’s the company made the England football kit and by 1979 the factory became the home to Burberry.
The Library
There is also the tale of Eddie Chapman a British double agent who was flown to England by the Germans to monitor the effect of V-1 and V-2 bombs and rockets on London. His plane was rerouted over East Anglia where a British fighter fired upon them, Eddie bailing out and making it to ground near Apes Hall, Littleport before the plane was shot down.
We did some shopping at the larger of the two Co-ops and walked back to the river via the station. The Littleport Town Sign is carved from wood by Jeremy Turner. It depicts the history of the town/village. I so hope the area isn’t known for domestic abuse with large cleavers!
Then round the Boat Haven moorings and across someone’s garden to the river bank. Here we avoided the cow pats and didn’t come across the fabled Black Shuck, but then again it wasn’t a dark moonless night.
We were surrounded
The moorings had got busy whilst we were out, we were now the filling in a cruiser sandwich. We chatted to the chap from behind who’d wanted to fill with water across the way at the end of the EA mooring. However a hire boat was moored there and despite there being loads of space behind them they had refused to pull back to make room. We’d be needing water in the morning, if they haven’t left by then we’ll breast up to fill our tank.
A diddy engine
The afternoon it was time to do a touch more on my little project. Things were threaded onto wire and then given a layer or two of tissue paper and pva to make them more solid and hold things together. Still quite a bit to do.
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 narrowboat sandwich, 1 slight altercation, 1 stainless steel Harley, 1 sneaked through garden, 1 union jack jacket, 24 hours on hook up, 7 cows, 1 cat, 1369 vampires.
Tilly was given an hour shore leave whilst we had breakfast, with not far to go today it wouldn’t matter if she was a touch longer. As we started to get ready Mick chatted to the chap from the boat next door on NB Mushy P (good name). They compared notes about boating, moorings etc and it turned out we were both heading for water in Peterborough.
We ended up leading the way as the wind caught NB Mushy P out. Approaching the town bridges crossed the river, swans filled the water and two large barges hugged the banks, both bars and restaurants. The long embankment stretched out ahead of us, a boat already at the services, we pulled in behind having to be creative with how we tied up. Mushy P pulled up further ahead and we both waited for the tap to become free.
The chap from NB Bob imparted knowledge to us about moorings, pubs, and shops we’d find on our way. All useful information if you can remember it!
Once the tank was full we reversed back to a space and tied up. We knew Tilly wouldn’t be enamoured. The embankment even though it is a green space with trees is very open so quite risky. She didn’t stay on land long, came back inside to see if the outside at the bow was any better!
It wasn’t!
As it says
Time to do a bit of exploring. Our route took us past The Lido. An Art Deco swimming complex with three heated outdoor pools and sun terraces. We decided it was maybe a touch too windy for such activities today.
Blimey that’s big!
Peterborough Cathedral was a bit of a surprise to us. Neither of us had thought that it would be so big or important.
The first monastery on the site was founded in 655AD, at that time called Medeswell. It was built in timber but later replaced in stone. In 870AD Vikings, possibly led by ‘Ivar the Boneless’, attacked and destroyed the monastery. Between 966-970AD the monastery was refounded as a Benedictine house, a town began to spring up alongside which became known as Peterborough after St Peter, a statue sits high on the west facade.
The cathedral and monastery were attacked numerous times through it’s history, fires have also wreaked havoc. In 1118 a replacement monastic church was begun the start of the present cathedral, it was consecrated in 1238. The original wooden ceiling in the nave still survives, the only such ceiling in the country. It has been overpainted twice still retaining it’s original style and pattern. Today a group of ladies were busy working on a 3m long tapestry celebrating the ceiling, they get very cold feet and have been allowed a big light for when the sun doesn’t shine.
I love ceilings like this
At the end of the 15thC the presbytery roof was renewed and a ‘New Building’ was created at the east end with fine fan vaulting showing off the late Perpendicular style.
Katherine of Aragon, Henry VIII’s first wife was buried in the monastic church, her tomb stone today adorned with pomegranates. In 1541 the former abbot John Chambers was made the new bishop and the abbey church became a Cathedral, was this because Katherine was buried here?
In 1587, 5 months after her death Mary, Queen of Scots was buried in the cathedral, after 25years she was moved to Westminster Abbey. The other day when we were at Fotheringhay I mentioned that the plaque relating to Mary had the dates 1586/7 on it. A comment from Tim Bridge explains this. The two years are because at that time, the year changed on March 25th (Lady Day). So Mary was executed in Feb 1586 by the reckoning of the day, but in 1587 by the way we count the years today. One side effect of this is that it is possible to look in a church register and find the burial in January of a child born in June the same year! Thank you Tim.
Lots of arches
During the Civil War the cathedral was ravaged when it was taken by Oliver Cromwell, nearly all the stained glass, alter, cloisters and Lady Chapel were destroyed and many of the books from the library were burnt .
In the 1880’s the central tower was rebuilt, followed by refurbishment of the central and eastern ends of the cathedral. The fine hand carved choir was added and extensive marble was laid at the high alter.
The West Façade
A fine building all round, except I miss it having the presence from a distance that tall towers give other cathedrals. The west façade is worth a visit itself.
We then had a wander around town, sussing out whether the market would be worth a visit tomorrow. But when we arrived all we found was rubble!
Not quite a market anymore!
The market is currently closed reopening on a different site next month. What a shame as I like a good market. We’ll have to cope with Asda and maybe some bits from Waitrose instead.
0 locks, 1.51 miles, 1 left, 1 full water tank, 0 rubbish, 1 unimpressed cat, 17 trees withcomb overs, 1 cathedral, 1st wife, 1 Queen of Scots, 7 pomegranates, 0 market, 157 swans.
Not quite up to yesterdays standards, but not bad.
In Scarborough the alarm was set early, last of the house jobs to be done, then pack up and leave in time for the train to York. There I chose to walk the straight route to the hospital, over Scarborough Rail Bridge, up St Mary’s, through the grounds of Bootham Hospital and into the main hospital site.
During my last eye test pre-pandemic the optician hadn’t been happy with something, she wanted me to have further tests done which could only happen at a hospital. I was referred, had my appointment changed several times during 2020 but finally got to be seen that December.
I was diagnosed with Drusen a build up of lipids and protein near the optic nerve. Some drusen occur naturally with age, others can be a sign of macular degeneration. Today was a follow up appointment, I had had to chase the hospital up regarding it, but I was here at last.
Big letters
Last time I had all sorts of tests done, eye drops, photos, it took ages. Today I had to read the usual eye test chart in area B. Then go to area A where I had a periphery sight test, a full five minutes of trying to spot the little dots. Back to area B where I was very quickly seen by Mr M Moosa. He shone the BIG light into each eye in turn. There had been no change to my Drusen so he was happy to discharge me and I should now mention it when visiting the opticians. Quite a relief.
What was York County Hospital where my Dad spent a month in a plaster cast in 1976
Now because I had booked a cheap ticket I had over four hours to kill in my home town. What to do? What to see? I became a tourist, but one with local knowledge and did a bit of shopping too as it’s someone’s birthday soon! Shh!!!
I walked round places I have known and loved. The pub the amateur dramatics used to frequent is all boarded up. A great family friends old flat is up for sale.
A visit to Barnetts, a must when in York (really it is!), they had some drawer handle screws that we needed for the freezer.
I followed a busker through the streets until he set up camp at the top of The Shambles to play his squeeze box, sing and jig a puppet around. I was relieved that Margaret Clitherow‘s house was still there and not been taken over by more Harry Potter tat shops.
Grape Lane, Coffee Yard. Up to the Minster’s south transept where I corrected a couple who thought that York Bar Walls only stretched from Goodramgate to Bootham Bar! I ended up having quite a chat with them suddenly feeling like a local again not a tourist.
The South Transept
After a sit down on the Minster steps I discovered that there is a Cat Trail around the city, two black cats sitting high up on buildings on Goodramgate.
A local architect Tom Adams had black cats put on his buildings, but there are many more that date back before his time. I knew of some, but certainly not all.
A meander around York wouldn’t be right without going through the Museum Gardens and down to the river. Here a chap adjusted his tyre fenders. Plenty of space today, only three narrowboats and one cruiser, sadly no ice cream boat!
Boats!
Have to admit I was very glad of the sit down on the train back to Peterborough where it had been raining most of the day and Mick had even lit the stove. Mick had used the wind and rain as an excuse to not change the oil and filters on Oleanna as his back would have got wet!
0 locks, 0 miles, 2 trains, 9 miles walked, 1 house cleaner, 2 eyes discharged, 1 relieved designer, 4 hours being a tourist, 4 boats, 1 very warm boat to come home to.
Waking up in the shadow of a castle isn’t a thing we do frequently, Newark is the only other place we can think of. Windsor is too far away as is Beeston Castle. Fotheringhay made for a good view this morning, sheep now grazing where Tilly had explored last night.
Oor morning view
As we had breakfast a group of people sat on the top of the mound, their three dogs following the trails around it of Tilly’s scent.
The church dominates the sky line for miles
What a glorious day, one for sun cream, maybe I’ll be swapping our wardrobes from winter to summer soon. But then again it may just snow next week! Pulling away we decided that this might be a good place to meet up with the London Leckenbys on our return. If they could get one of the river side pitches and us a mooring alongside that would be ideal for a weekend. Behind us for quite some miles the tower of St Mary and All Saints remained in view, I’m looking forward to have a look round it in a couple of months time.
Calm before the stampede
At Warmington Lock we had great views all around, the sheep in the field next to us were very friendly, coming up to the fence to watch we were doing things right. As Mick brought Oleanna into the lock there was a sudden stampede from the far side of the field. Were the Mums and lambs being rounded up by the farmer?
It soon became very obvious that there was a dog in the field, but not a sheep dog. As two small dogs sprinted across the field I could see a chap running towards a gate from the next field, the dogs already way ahead! We watched, nothing we could do, only hope that the sheep could manage to get away before any harm was done.
Thankfully the sheep slowed down and the two dogs could be seen returning to their owner, one was picked up the other carried on to the other people before being put back on a lead. The path they followed came past the lock, through two gates. All three dogs were now on leads, but their owners didn’t seem to have the ability to close gates behind them! So much for the Countryside Code and keeping their dogs under control!
Mick walking back to get Oleanna
The route to Elton Lock is a little convoluted from the lock landing due to the route the weirs take. Once Oleanna was all tied up Mick came to help. Boats above polished their brasses in the shade of some trees whilst a Dad pumped up a paddleboard below ready to take his little lad for a ride.
Today the sky was filled with sky divers. Planes were taking off and dropping people way up high. As one group neared the ground another could be seen as tiny specks pulling their parachute cords. The views up there must have been amazing today.
Above Yarwell Lock we made use of the water point to top up. The pressure was good so after fifteen or so minutes we went to set the lock, just as we opened the top gates Oleanna’s water tank started to over flow, perfect timing.
A new looking executive estate sits around a basin. Inside I spied a dusty looking narrowboat. Most of the houses facing the river were making the most of their views with two story windows, views from the master bedrooms.
We managed to keep our distance despite the flow of the river
Soon we were following a couple in an inflatable canoe. They had no idea that there was 20 tonnes of boat gradually getting closer to them, Oleanna just about in tick over. They dabbled their paddles in the water occasionally, pointing things out. If the next lock hadn’t been round the corner we’d have given them a ‘Bip’ on the horn. We managed to stay at a safe distance but the wise words we’d been given before doing the Tideway cruise last year came to mind, ‘Keep looking behind you’.
At last they pull away
The lock landing was full, two cruiser having just come up. We were spotted and stared at. Eventually the penny dropped that we might be wanting to use the lock and not just tread water for an hour or so admiring the view with nowhere to moor up! The crew dithered. ‘YES’ we did want the lock. The control cabinet was closed, the guillotine left down, one lady went to lift a paddle to fill the lock but changed her mind. What they actually needed to do was get back on their boats and move out of the way. This all took time as there had to be a discussion as they climbed back on board, but in the end they finally moved off. Good job the lady hadn’t lifted a paddle as the bottom gate hadn’t been closed fully, easily solved and the gate being almost down did save a lot of finger ache.
A swans nest full of eggs
Now the river winds it’s way towards Wansford where the Great North Road crosses. First the original bridge, Old North Road Bridge, most of what is seen today was built in the 1600s but had improvement works done through the centuries, the main arch has a date stone of 1795. Just before the bridge are wonderful buildings, a coaching house from when this was the main north south route.
Old North Road Bridge
In 1929 the Great North Road moved to a new bypass with a bridge to the east. This bridge boasts that it spans into two counties and halfway across still sits the boundary post, even though the boundary changed in 1965, the two counties becoming one.
1929 bridge in the back ground, 1975 foreground
Increasing traffic necessitated a second bypass in 1975 running parallel to the first, this became the southbound carriageway the 1929 bridge the northbound.
Model railway where the scales have gone a little awry
The river now heads back southwards, we had our fingers crossed that there would be space on the EA mooring at Wansford Station. As we came under the railway bridge we managed to join a hire boat already moored up, mooring with our centre and stern lines was the way forward, adding another rope from one of the fender eyes to hold the bow closer to the pontoon, the flow of water wanting to push this out.
We timed that right!
We settled down for a late lunch and had a look at the time table for the Nene Valley Railway. Currently trains only run on Saturdays and Sundays, the last one due back into the station at 15:45, twenty minutes time. When we heard the bell ring we made sure we were outside ready to see the engine coming back across the bridge into the station. Very well timed, 34081, 92 Squadron pulled the carriages in to the station.
We had a wander about later, the station closed, but enough for us to see. A check on the website for our return, we won’t be joining the whiskey train £100 for two, anyhow I’m not in the slightest bit partial to whiskey. Even a fish and chip trip would cost us a touch too much, maybe we’ll just save up for an All Day Railcar Rover at £12 a head.
Glad he got the right door
4 locks, 9.19 miles, 2 dogs not in control, 1 field of worried sheep, 2 dithering ladies, 2 too relaxed canoeists, 3 bridges, 1 great road, 0 shore leave, 1 boat just in time, 1 Sunday roast chicken.
The Geraghty zoom was joined today from the helm. Camera facing forwards much of the time as we just seemed to be silhouettes. The family accompanied us through Wadenhoe Lock, the moorings by the pub chocka block, maybe our return here shouldn’t coincide with a weekend.
The day has been full of church views. St Michael and All Angels Church at Wadenhoe, St John the Baptist at Achurch, St Andrews at Cotterstock, St Mary and All Saints at Fotheringhay, I’m guaranteed to have missed some!
We’ve had paddle boarders, red kites overhead, locks and more locks.
Heading into Oundle
At Oundle we remembered the day NB Lillyanne had her out of water survey done. We’d come down to meet the surveyor and hear his verdict first hand. She needed blacking, the lights inside sorting along with keeping her well aired to help with condensation. As we left we pulled in at the layby alongside Upper Barnwell Lock and called ABNB to confirm our offer, if I remember rightly a couple of grand off the asking price to pay for the works needed. As we sat there Merve and Elaine came past in Lillyanne so we could confirm the sale with them too. It was the furthest they’d been on her and had really enjoyed the cruise.
A very fine mill
Upper Barnwell Lock has a very fine mill alongside. I think eight years ago it had been a restaurant, today its a kitchen and bathroom show room. Then a very low bridge at 7ft 10″, we’d been warned about it, but fitted through only having to dip our heads.
Lower Barwell Lock has recently had new sensors added to the slackers (paddle gear). I could just see them and as we wound down the slackers a little arm was pushed out of the way, connecting a circuit to allow us to operate the guillotine gate.
We got a glimpse of Cotterstock Hall before the lock and there are some seriously posh houses at Tansor. One of those would do nicely with a mooring.
Does anyone know what these signs are please?
The long straight on the river meant rowers. A chap informed us there were a few boats out on the river and just to ‘BIP’ our horn as we approached, which we did.
Our handy buoy
Many of the lock landings have an overhang, which means Oleanna’s cabin sides are at risk of being scraped. Mick has been deploying our big red buoy just where it’s needed at the stern to keep her a safe distance away. So far the cabin side at the bow has only been in danger once.
Fishing lake behind the trees
Alongside Perio Lock there is a large lake, one of many we’ve passed, where numerous fishermen were set up for a weekends fishing. They waved at us as we waved back, everyone happy not to be in the way of each other.
Setting the lock
Perio Lock was the last for today, another wheel operated lock. The counter weight at this lock has been set incredibly well, at one point whilst raising the guillotine it wanted to raise all by itself! A bit more manual effort was needed to get it right to the top and locked off, but it was nearly a joy to work.
It was built to have its photo taken
The very fine St Marys and All Saints church stands high above the surroundings, immaculte in the sunshine. Fotheringhay was to be our mooring for today, white posts marking where you can moor on a farmers field.
Plenty of of boats have bumped and scraped their way through here
The first stretch has a very high bank and we didn’t fancy it. Through Fotheringhay Bridge which if you are wide is the lowest bridge on the river. Downstream more moorings stretched out. We looked for a lower bank, this was possible but very close to some campers, so we decided to reverse back to join another narrowboat below the castle. The plank was brought out to make getting on and off that bit easier for humans, the four legged crew of course had no problem, well the amount of humans about was a problem at first.
Let’s play Spot the Tilly!
Fotheringhay Castle was the birth place of Richard III on October 2nd 1452. It is also the place where Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots was beheaded. A plaque alongside a large piece of castle rubble gives the date of her demise as 8th February 1586/7, I wonder why the two years?
Only a hair cut today
Time to give Mick a hair cut, I did my best and refrained from there being a second beheading in the castle grounds, although I can’t say the same for Tilly! With fewer people about she had the castle mound all to herself, well maybe a rabbit or two too.
Surveying her kingdom!
She and I had a walk to the very top, a very good view with a breeze. From here I could plot my route down via as many rabbit holes as possible. Storm clouds gathered, the following rain storm didn’t deter Tilly from checking just about every hole she could get inside! Thankfully no large friends were brought home.
In need of the services at Gayton Junction we prepared, emptying the wee tank whilst the outlet was on the towpath side. Then we pootled our way to the junction.
What a difference from yesterday! I got sunburnt yesterday, today we could just about see our breath! Layers and long sleeves were certainly needed.
Gayton Junction, which way?
At the junction there was already a boat on the services, but fortunately they had just finished. We pulled in alongside and let two other boats pass before we could swap places and tie up. There was a hive of activity around the service block, the local IWA branch were busy weeding and giving the place a general tidy up. We filled and emptied as required then were ready to push off.
IWA all hard at work
We’ve pulled up at the services here before, but only once been along the Northampton Branch. That was just over eight years ago when we’d just bought NB Lillyanne, she’d been moored on the River Nene and her licence had just run out, so we spent a couple of long days getting her off the river and onto C&RT waters. Quite a rush, not enough time to take much in or write a blog.
Last year was all about seeing family and friends, this year we want to explore again. Today we’d be heading down the Northampton Arm towards the River Nene, Middle Levels, Great Ouse, River Cam etc where we plan on spending the summer. We have our Gold Licence, have joined Friends of the River Nene and The Great Ouse Boating Association. There are different licences to buy, keys and windlasses (that are also called keys), all very exciting!
Fancy swing bridge
But first we needed to stop for an early lunch, there’s nowhere really to stop in the flight of locks down into Northampton so we pulled up opposite Gayton Marina. This is where all the hire boats were aiming for this morning and also where we came to view the first second hand boat we looked at inn 2014, it had too much leatherette for our tastes and really bad storage for a liveaboard boat.
From eight years ago I’ve had this thing that Gayton Marina had to be on the main line of the Grand Union near the junction, every time we’ve passed since I’ve wondered where it had gone! Now I know it wasn’t just a mirage.
NB Caress of Steel came past just as we pulled in, another Finesse boat with space for a motorbike in the tug deck. Then we watched the swing bridge at the entrance swing, all automated, a barrier and flashing light. There was no-one to be seen operating it, do moorers have a fob that they can press to open it? Or is someone watching on CCTV?
Top Lock
Time to set off, with sixteen locks ahead of us before we could stop we needed to get on with it.
We remembered narrow locks, going under the M1. I remembered trying to ride a Brompton up the gravelly track between locks, our lock operation has changed since then going up hill. Today I’d be walking much of the flight three times to set ahead and then let Mick and Oleanna out of the lock above.
What would be different to the locks? There’s always something different on each canal. The beams were wide, easy to cross. Here the handrails on the bottom gates were on the downhill side of them. Would I still be able to push the gates apart to save a walk around the lock? Have they always been like this or is it to put people off stepping across from one gate to the other?
Beep beep!
At the second lock I stood and worked out if I could push the gates from the centre safely holding onto the railing. This actually would be a touch easier to start off with, but to guarantee getting the gate into the recess I would need to change the angle to which I pushed. After a few locks I decided that the angle I was pushing at was not being kind to my knees, so I chose to walk round instead. Thankfully Mick closed the other gate for me with the boat hook, saving a second trip round.
The thick of the flight runs through twelve locks seemingly in countryside, the last one however sitting underneath the M1 near junction 15A. All quite pretty, I suspect the views would have been better if the sun had been out.
A family walked up the flight, crossing over the gates of each lock. They were obviously keen to lend a hand with a gate or two.
Red roof
In the pound below lock 6 I could see a red arc. This turned out to be the roof of a cruiser, the chap on board appeared when we had a couple of locks still to go to reach him. Obviously a single hander, I headed down to lend a hand with gates as he bow hauled his boat into the lock. He said that he’d stopped in the pound overnight and some nair do wells had opened all the paddles and drained the pound, he’d woken up with his boat on the silt.
The bywash was flowing and had got him afloat again, the level still quite low. It took time for Oleanna and the cruiser to pass. We’d left the next two locks ready for him, I suspect he made use of the open gates and then settled back down for another night, waiting for the next down hill boat to leave gates for him.
It won’t go down!
The level below Lock 6 was low. Oleanna ground to a halt exiting. I lifted one of the top paddles to see if I could flush her out. This worked quite quickly, but then the paddle wouldn’t close fully. I managed to force it down a touch, but had to call for Mick to see if he could get it further. Thankfully this worked.
The canal was built by the Grand Junction Canal, with a height difference of 32m between the Grand Junction at Gayton down to Northampton. 17 narrow locks were built to connect the River Nene to the canal network. The first boats arrived at Far Cotton in Northampton on the 1st May 1815, 207 years ago today! However today we wouldn’t be greeted by crowds cheering, it would just be geese crapping everywhere!
Farms were cut in half by the canal, so seven lift bridges were put across so that sheep, cattle and machinery could cross. Today only one such bridge is still fully in tact, just below lock 5, two more sit beside the canal.
Under the M1 are murals painted by local school children. One side depicts the canal through the seasons, the other is a time line of Northampton which is very interesting, bright and jolly. For 100 years the canal was very busy transporting coal, grain and timber, by WW2 road competition took over and trade declined.
A heron flew away from the lock
In 1968 a group of local enthusiasts formed the IWA Northampton Branch, in 1971 the IWA National Rally was held when 650 boats gathered. The branch fought to keep the arm open, objecting to road plans that would affect the route. Today they look after the upkeep of the flight. Mosaics sit near the top gates of each lock and as seen at the top of the arm today work parties keep the thick of the flight trimmed and tidy.
The pounds very full lower down
Once under the M1 the last few locks are set further apart. New housing sits alongside and the amount of reeds increases, this is also something we remembered from eight years ago. Gradually the canal becomes more urban.
Reeds reeds and more reeds
Local boats sat making use of the few rings above Lock 17, but there was space for us infront. We used the last ring and the girders holding the pipe bridge up to moor and moved the geese along taking care not to stand in their pooh.
Last night we had unwrapped the pork joint, dried it off and left it in the fridge to dry out. Before starting the flight I had left it out to come up to room temperature. Once down Lock 15 I turned the oven on, gave the joint a dry off and added some more salt to the leathery rind. Down Lock 16 in it went. By the time we were moored up it had done it’s 30 minutes at gas 7 and could be turned down. The effort paid off as we enjoyed the best pork crackling I’ve ever made along with a quarter of the meat. A good celebration to mark the anniversary of the arm and the start of our exploring this year.
Yummmmm!
16 locks, 6.5 miles, 1 left, 1 full water tank, 1 grey day, 1 left of 7, 34 mosaics, 1 slow boat to Gayton, 1 Tilly not too impressed, 2 hrs 42 minutes, 1 joint of pork that will last us four meals, 18 train tickets booked (making use of the Sale before it ends), 2 tired boaters.
