A veggie cooked breakfast to help finish off some courgette fritters we’d had the other night. Then the Geraghty zoom. Only the Scottish contingency joined us today, others were off at Woodcraft Folk, Everton and Berlin. Topics included the Scottish Police, curiosity, cousins and a desk under the stairs.
Looking into Shireoaks Marina
We turned into Shireoaks Marina, this is where the services are and topped the fresh water tank up whilst Mick had a shower and the washing machine ran. Once winded, Mick brought Oleanna out of the marina and we headed down the three locks.
I think we know where the cill is
Nine years ago we hadn’t been able to open the bottom gate at the top lock, we’d had to call CRT out who ended up having to drain a pound. This was also the time we got chatting properly to Alison and Laura who then owned NB Large Marge, they are more commonly known as the Margees, even to this day. We ended up cruising the River Trent and Ouse with them and Jaffa their parrot that summer. Today the going was far easier.
Today there was a Fund Britain’s Waterways cruise to Baits Bite Lock on the River Cam
We decided to stop a little bit before our destination today. A short distance above Deep Lock there were some big rings on the bank. Here Tilly could have some shore leave, where as if we carried on to below Deep Lock there was a pub and car park, not Tilly friendly. Before she was allowed out we walked down to Sainsburys for a few bits as we’ve got some visitors in the next couple of days.
NB Hugh Henshall one of the Chesterfield Canal Trust trip boats was heading towards us , a short distance on they would wind then come back to drop people off. Three trips out today from The Lockkeeper pub. They had plenty of crew waiting to work them through the locks, another trip still to do today.
As the afternoon went by another boat came past us from the marina, they were most likely going to moor by the pub down Deep Lock. After a while Mick noticed that we were now on quite a bit of a list. Was this due to Deep Lock being 9ft 8″ deep and the lock above only being 2ft 3″, plus the trip boat having filled Deep Lock several times today without letting any water down from above, most probably. With tomorrow being an assisted passage day back through Worksop the last thing we wanted was to be stuck on the bottom in the morning. Time to move pounds to below Deep Lock.
Moving along again
It took some effort to get off the bottom, then at the lock I waited for Oleanna to be very close before filling it. With two boats already on the moorings below the lock we opted to tie up on the lock landing, it was unlikely that anyone else would arrive now, it being 7pm and we didn’t really have much option. We’d make sure we were off and on our way early in the morning.
6 locks, 1.3 miles, 46 minutes brisk, 1 full water tank, 1 bag of treat lunchy stuff, 2 clean boaters, 3 hours shore leave, 1 listing boat refloated.
It would have been really nice to have a couple of days here at the top of the Chesterfield. I’d quite fancied walking the abandoned section of the canal up to Eckington Road maybe. Then another day we could look at the 5 miles that’s in water at Tapton and the visitors centre. But because the locks in Worksop are only open on Mondays and Thursdays that limits our time, plus we need to be elsewhere in a couple of weeks, so we needed to make our way down the flight today.
Is Autumn on its way?
Last night our mooring had been quite idyllic, apart from the two trains an hour. Numerous owls hooted away. But then we could hear music, just where was it coming from? The only conclusion was that the fairies like a bit of a rave and they seemed to like the one track over and over and over again. Thankfully before midnight it was their bedtime so the sounds stopped, just the owls to keep us company.
Over a bridge
I walked ahead, chance to take a look into the fairy woods that run alongside the canal. So very pretty and a slight feeling of autumn about to set in.
???
Near the top of the locks there is a house all cordoned off, it’s more of a ruin really. Railings made from old gates, various bits and bobs strewn about the place, I remember there being more of it nine years ago. Along a length of wire fencing. strips of black fabric have been knotted. Maybe a way to remember things, to mark days gone by, just a bit odd really.
Setting up the treble
The top treble needed a touch of water adding to the middle chamber so I lifted a paddle into it as well as one into the top chamber, then walked down to lift one at the bottom to empty it out. Going down you need the bottom chamber empty, the middle one lowered to a white mark (even though the sign says it’s black) and the top one full. They were set ready and waiting by the time Oleanna came into view.
Down the treble
Mick stepped off and pulled Oleanna from chamber to chamber again as we’d done on the way up yesterday, then got back onboard after opening the bottom off side gate. Whilst the last chamber emptied I walked down to set the next lock and open the top gates ready. As Oleanna exited the locks Mick would push the off side gate closed with the boat hook as I’d close the towpath side. Now onto singles I could walk ahead to the next lock to get that one set, come back where Mick had already brought Oleanna into the lock and lifted a bottom paddle. I’d open the gates then we both close them on exiting and I leapfrog onto the next but one lock and so it continues.
A melted tree
The flight was busy with walkers and cyclists today. Plenty of comments about how I got all the heavy work. Well no actually! Yes I get to do more walking back and forth, but the rest is pretty much shared out between us and these locks really don’t feel like hard work at all.
That’s not so good
At Limehouse Lock Mick had lifted the off side paddle and by the time I’d got back to open the gates he was only going down very slowly. As I closed up after our descent I wound the paddle back down, only to discover why it hadn’t been doing very much, the spade was detached from the mechanism. I was just trying to find where on the CRT website to report this when a blue van reversed up the track alongside the locks. Today only one Lock Keeper is on duty along the canal, he was up to clear bywashes etc so I reported the paddle to him in case they didn’t know. There’s a list of jobs to be done was his reply, ‘just be careful with the locks’. We would be. During September and October they are closing the flight to replace the lock gates at both ends of Lock 37, the one where the pound drains. Off he went with his keb in hand, he’d be seeing boats in and out of West Stockwith lock later on today.
The bywashes were all flowing well, we were bringing lots of water down with us as most locks had stayed full from yesterday, hopefully the pound lower down known for emptying itself was being filled. At the next treble the overspill from the bottom lock was actually helping to fill the lock as there was so much water coming down.
As we approached Turnerwood the Dad swan looked like he was interested in getting in the bottom chamber of the treble as it filled up, thankfully he didn’t get in and chose to walk down to the pound below. Stood watching our progress from the bridge were plenty of gongoozlers with coffees and ice creams!
Honeycomb and Chocolate
We’d not forgotten about the little hut here and today our arrival at the 2 hour mooring was much better timed. Lunch then some chilled medication to follow to enable us to finish the flight.
That leak will empty the pound pretty quickly
Now there were plenty of people about, some willing to open and close gates. A CRT fund raiser came to show me photos of how the pound above Lock 37 had been at 9:30 this morning, ‘3 to 4 foot down’. He’d also taken a photo now of it being full to send to CRT. We’d done a good job of filling the pound as we’d come down as it can take the Lockies half a day to fill it.
Sunshine
The remainder of the locks are all singles down to Shireoaks and pretty simple. A lady walked past saying she’d a holiday booked in a few weeks on the GU. They’ve watched Canal Boat Diaries but thought they’d best watch an instructional video before they came to their first lock. They stayed watching us and she’d decided that as we were so proficient then maybe we should join them on their holiday.
Gongoozling helpers
Soon we were crossing the aqueduct and the county boundary again, out of Yorkshire into Nottinghamshire. The hardest lock to work all day was Boundary Lock, our last, the top gate ever so heavy.
Leaving Yorkshire
We pulled in back where we’d left yesterday morning. The doors were opened up and Tilly allowed shore leave again, dashing between all the walkers legs to the sideways trees.
23 locks, 2.8 miles, 6.94 miles walked, 63 brisk minutes, 2 chilled medications, 2 hours shore leave, pair 103 yarn selected, 1 Lil centre stage.
Shireoaks Visitor Moorings to Peck Mill Visitor Moorings
Today was the day to reach the top of the navigable end of the Chesterfield, another canal under Oleanna’s baseplate, a busy day for us and some hoped for shore leave for Tilly. We limbered up and pushed off, 23 lock chambers lay ahead of us.
At Boundary Lock the shallow but plentiful locks commenced, the top gate very heavy. Crossing Ryton Aqueduct we crossed the border back into Yorkshire, we didn’t realise it at the time, it was only later when I checked where South Yorkshire started. A perfect day to cross back it being Yorkshire Day.
Cinderhill Lock has a sign above it, from now on there would be no walkways on any gates other than the very top gates, not so bad on the single locks, but quite a pain on the staircase locks of three, I’d certainly be getting my steps in today but maybe not my brisk minutes!
It’s so pretty
As we worked our way up the locks we remembered last year on the Basingstoke where we’d been reminded of our ascent here. The Basingstoke however is VERY woody and the locks broad with the constant sound of gunfire. Here the by washes flowed (thank goodness), the birds sang, we were surrounded by trees but still with sight of the sky and there were plenty of walkers enjoying the lovely walk up to Kiveton.
Looking up the flight
The locks are shallow, which makes it really quite pretty. We soon dropped into our routine. I’d bring Oleanna up to a height where Mick would be able to step off (not hard on this flight) then I walk on to the next lock to empty it and open the bottom gates ready whilst Mick opens the top gate of the lock below, closes paddles and the gate behind him.
There is the feeder below the lock
We’d been warned that the pound between locks 36 and 37 can drain if the feeder right at the top of the canal gets blocked with weed. The Lockie I’d talked with yesterday said they’d ashed up the problem lock, so unless someone else had been through from Shireoaks we should be alright. They’d try and ash it again after we’d been through today. The gate was maybe a little heavy, but the levels were fine. In fact all day I think we only had one bywash that wasn’t flowing.
Turnerwood
Arriving at Turnerwood it was a little bit too early to take advantage of the 2 hour mooring, we were more concerned about the swans. Dad rules the towpath, but I asked nicely if I could pass and he let me. Then several grey cygnets along with one maybe a year old decided to head for the open lock. Mick hadn’t seen them, so as he came under the bridge I waved to him to back off. I chatted to the cygnets, asking where their Mum was and maybe they should find her. They decided that this was maybe a good idea and managed to find a way past Oleanna back to the pool below the lock.
A double
The next lock is a two rise or round these parts it’s called a Double. Top chamber full, bottom empty. Easy to set, just the gates a bit of a pain to walk round to open and close.
Upperty Up
We’d both had the same idea, once Oleanna was in the lock Mick would climb off via the roof to work the off side of the lock saving walking round all the time to do the gates. Yes I could most probably walk over Oleanna’s roof and many would, but I’d rather not. Once up the first chamber Mick pulled Oleanna into the second chamber, job done.
We worked another single and the next double. At Milestone Lock it was full, holding it’s water, we decided that once we’d ascended then we’d tie up and have our lunch there, little chance of us emptying the pound above and if a boat happened to arrive we’d be swiftly on our way, but that was very unlikely.
Treble ahead
Next a treble, 3 rise. Top full, middle full, bottom empty. I walked round to set it, lifting a paddle on the bottom chamber to make sure it was empty, lifting a paddle into the top chamber to keep it level with the pound above.
The middle chamber required a top up so I lifted one and left it filling whilst I walked round to open the off side bottom gate, by the time I returned the middle chamber was just about at the overflow height, I closed the paddle and the flight was set for us. Mick climbed off again and hauled Oleanna from chamber to chamber.
A bit different to the other Limehouse Lock
Three pretty singles followed, finished by a triple. The top paddles locked off with a handcuff key which I had to request from Mick as I’d forgotten about that. The very top gate here has a very tall post, does anyone know why? It did make it easy for Mick to help push the gate open.
Push!
There was a branch down near the top of the locks, we managed to push past and push it further out of the way. Now through the woodland where the fairies live, well they also live down the locks too, that’s the only reason I can think of them for being such shallow locks and for not having walkways across the lower gates, because fairies can fly! Gosh it was seriously slow going, I’m glad I hadn’t walked ahead as I’d have been waiting for a very long time if I had.
Not too many trees
Gradually we crawled along the summit pound of the connected canal, if the level was any lower we’d be sitting on the bottom. To lift the stern a bit to help with progress I moved to the bow. We passed a couple of boats moored on their home moorings, a caravan parked inside a ramshackled barn. The railway comes close then pushes away just out of arms reach.
Oooo, pooh!
Once under Dog Kennel Bridge we were getting close to the end. There ahead of us the moorings, two boats already tied up! Where had they come from? A chap on one of them came out, and when his dogs stopped barking, he offered to move up closer to the other boat so we’d have a couple of bollards to tie to. His three boisterous woofers were the deciding factor, it wouldn’t be fair on Tilly or them, plus there was the smoke billowing out from his chimney.
He said that the winding hole was very shallow, well it had been yesterday. We’d give it a go. Mick put Oleanna’s bow in towards the spillway, there was enough depth. Water was coming down into the canal, we’d been warned if the feed up here was chocked with weeds then the troublesome pound lower down would empty. It took time to turn, but we did it, conferred with each other to return to the only other visitor mooring in the pound.
Another waterway under her bow
Oleanna has now reached as far up the Chesterfield as we were going to attempt to get her. There is another third of a mile to the east portal of Norwood Tunnel which in 1907 had a major collapse and has never been reopened. Yes we could have a go at backing her up there, but the amount of weed and shallowness would be a serous pain and we’d already had a long day. A photo of her in the winding hole would suffice should we ever want to claim a Silver Propeller from the IWA.
Pointy!
Back down the canal, passing the ramshackled barn, now a very pointy eared woofer kept a close eye on us. A kilometre on we pulled in at Perk Mill Moorings, enough depth for us, only space for one boat, but sadly far too close to the railway line to allow any shore leave. But the fairies would look after me! They’ve told me so. It’s perfect!!
You are both big fat MEANIES!!!
Content Mick, with the cricket commentary in his ear
The 1st August is Yorkshire Day, we’d somehow managed to return to Yorkshire today and in the fridge was a chicken which needed to be roasted today, Yorkshire had beaten Sussex in the cricket, everything aligning together, apart from the mooring.
23 locks, 2 doubles, 2 triples, 4.2 miles by boat, 5.07 by foot, 20 minutes brisk walking, 1 border crossed, 22 flowing bywashes, 1 problematic pound not a problem, 1 puddle in the bedroom, 30 minute lunchbreak in a lock, 235 gongoozlers, 1 super speedy woofer, 1 pointy eared woofer, 3 boisterous woofers, 1 miffed off cat, 1 wind, 1 towel, 1 coat, 3425 invisible fairies, 1 roast chicken, 1st episode Destination X, 1 Yorkshire win against Sussex, 1 very Happy Yorkshire Day.
Mile marker 23ish to Morse Lock 49 to Shireoaks visitor mooring
Sorry Tilly, no shore leave this morning we needed to get moving. We pushed of at 9:30 an overcast with patches of sun morning, we needed to cruise a mile and a half to Worksop Manton Lock 52 arriving at 11am to meet with CRT Lock Keepers, the next two locks are assisted passage only on Mondays and Thursdays 11 to 1. The Chesterfield being shallow meant we wanted to have more than enough time to reach the lock.
Arches
Rounding the first bend I remembered the next lock, metal boxes over the paddle gear that are really awkward to open and lock, at least there’d be someone there to help with them. When we arrived a boat was moored on the lock landing above. How had that got there? Had they got locked in somehow on Monday?
Waiting for the Lock Keepers
We tied up and walked up to chat. It was NB Robin Hood a hire boat from West Stockwith. They’d arrived below the lock yesterday, not knowing it would be locked. One of the crew had walked along the gunnel to reach somewhere dry to step off. As she’d stepped down (quite a height) onto the landing her foot slipped off the stone edging down the back of it into a big hole. Paramedics were called, they needed to get the lady closer to a road for access to an ambulance, so CRT came out unlocked the lock so they could head up to the next lock. They’d winded and returned when the crew were back on board with a badly sprained ankle. It was their first time on a narrowboat and had been loving it, thankfully it hasn’t put them off another boating holiday.
Mike, CRT Lock Keeper from West Stockwith arrived pulling what looked like a rug doctor behind him, it turned out to be a bin full of ash to ash up the lock once we were through. Yesterday he’d been called out to open the lock for the hire boat and had dropped the padlock into the lock, so this lock wasn’t actually locked. We worked the hire boat down as the lock was in their favour, then it was our turn. It turns out that Mike lives next door to Lesley and Clive from NB Christopher B whom we travelled with from West Stockwith to Thorne a couple of years ago. Lesley had an accident at the lift bridge before Thorne which necessitated her being in hospital for quite some time and she was unable to walk for six months. It was good to hear she is now up on her feet again.
Ahead another boat was coming from Worksop. A familiar boat green on one side red the other, had we met them on the River Soar or somewhere before? Not sure. They had been to the very top of the Chesterfield and found some gates to be heavy, last night they’d moored at The Lock Keeper on the other side of the town.
Bracebridge Pumping Station
At Bracebridge Lock another Lock Keeper was waiting for us, time to chat as Mick brought Oleanna along. Did Worksop still deserve it’s bad press? We were hoping to moor along the next stretch for a few hours. The Lock Keeper was careful in how he phrased things. This next pound was their worst on the Chesterfield, they’ve had homeless people camping out, but if we moored along the middle stretch near where cars are parked? We’d see what we thought of it.
A length of armco, possible, we’d rather be on chains than spikes even though there was very unlikely to be any passing traffic on the canal. We carried on. A group of young teenagers fishing below the next lock, the bollards looked inviting but we just had that feeling that we should carry on. The kids joked as kids do as I walked up to the lock that sits part way under the road bridge, a jigsaw puzzle scattered over the steps if one fancied a go whilst waiting for the lock to fill or empty, although not having the box meant I had no clue as to what the picture would be.
The gates opened fine, but when it came to close them there was an obstruction, I really hoped it wasn’t the dead hedgehog I’d seen floating in the lock. We opened and closed the gate, Mick prodded about with the boat hook and eventually found a plastic pot of some sort. Obstruction gone, we were on our way again.
A rather fine building, wish we’d had more time to look around
The next stretch towards Morse Lock felt better, would there be enough depth for us to moor up somewhere? Mick suggested actually pulling up on the mooring bollards, after all we’d been told by the lock keepers that we were the only boat up this way, unless someone came out from Shireoaks Marina. We pulled in and made sure we were on the very last bollards, plenty of room for another boat in front.
Worksop Station
After lunch we made sure the boat was secure and everything out of view, even with the curtains closed you just don’t know how far Tilly pushes them to have a nosy out! We walked round Sandhill Lake then up through housing estates that have seen better days. Past the station, a very fine affair. Then up Blyth Road and onto Blyth Grove with ten minutes spare before our booking at Mr Straw’s House a National Trust property.
Mr Straw’s House
5 and 7 Blyth Grove, Edwardian semi detached houses, are not your average National Trust property, as the people at reception are glad to tell you. 7 was the home of William and Florence Straw, who moved in in 1923, they raised their two sons William Jnr and Walter there. The house had electric lighting to the first two floors and an inside toilet and plumbing, all mod cons of the day. After their deaths William and Walter kept the house just as it had been in their parents days the 1920’s. For over 60 years the occupants threw very little away and chose to live without many modern comforts, not even a radio! When William passed away in 1990 he left the contents of the house to the National Trust, everything catalogued, expecting it to go into a museum. The National Trust sent in an assessor to check over the collection, a normal procedure so that anything of great value can be taken away for safe keeping. The accessor reported back that there was nothing of great value in the collection, however the collection itself was priceless! The National Trust then bought the two houses so the collection could stay, 7 having been the residence of the family, 5 had been rented out.
7 is just how it had been left, things neatly ordered everywhere. 5 is now an added display area, reception and a tea room. The whole place is a time capsule from the 1920’s into the 90’s and well worth a visit, especially if you get chance to talk to Sheila who grew up knowing William and Walter, more commonly known as Tweddle Dee and Tweddle Dum by the local children. There is a lot more to tell of the green grocer who’d bought the house and his offspring and Sheila could keep on telling you stories for years to come.
From the Egyptian carpet up the stairs, the two upright pianos, the eleven chairs in the front room, the Mackintosh Quality Street tins, the newspapers wrapped up to protect their edges sorted into subjects, the green house full of cacti, the wallpaper that has been stained by the plaster, it is a wonderful place. A shame the rooms are so small so you feel you have to move on to let others get a chance, I think I could have been there all day.
They run discovery days in the house where they open drawers and cupboards to show more of the 33,000 items it holds. There are also walks around Worksop showing the shops that grocer and seed merchant William Straw ran, and the butchers shop opposite which was run by Florence’s father. I’d be very tempted to go on one of these if we happen to be in the area another time.
Carrying on uphill
Back at Oleanna all was good, but we didn’t want to stay on the lock landing for the night. More locks to keep us busy. Up Morse Lock I then walked ahead leaving Mick to single hand the next lock as I popped to Sainsburys to stock up on bananas and milk, plus some sad git meatballs that were reduced in price in front of my eyes. I arrived back at the boat just as the top gate was about to be opened.
On upwards the next narrow locks, the sign says to lift your fenders, you shouldn’t have them down anyway! The last three locks are all close together so I could set ahead leaving Mick to close up behind, a good sign was all the by washes were flowing. At the middle lock a dog walker stopped to say that the pound above was too high! The bottom gate had been open for the last three days and the level above it was too high. I set him straight saying that actually it was at a perfect height, any higher and the extra would be flowing over the bywash, this was the only one of our trip so far that hadn’t.
Last lock to Shireoaks
How far were we going today? This would be our last lock for today, up the remainder tomorrow. I was then told that there were 42 locks tomorrow. Yes we were at lock 42, but the locks are numbered from Chesterfield and includes those on the detached section of the canal along with those that don’t exist anymore. The subject then turned to funding, licence fees, when he started on immigrants I knew it was time for this canal expert to keep walking! Thankfully he did.
Above the locks we pulled in, too late for Tilly shore leave. Time to put those meatballs on to cook, have a shower and get sat down to watch the final episode of The Handmaids Tale. Not as good as the previous two episodes but a good way to round off the series.
11 locks, 6.4 miles, 1 sprained ankle, 1 next door neighbour, 2 serious days boating ahead of the hire boat, 2 boaters not so sure, 5 maybe 6 missing pieces, 0 picture, 2 for Mr Straw’s house, 0 draining board, 1 bag of National Trust apples, 85 minutes brisk walking, 1 pint milk, 8 bananas, 1 big banner, 2 pooped boaters, 1 very awake Tilly!
West Retford Visitor Moorings to before Osberton Top Turnover Bridge 46
Vapourer or Rusty Tussock Moth
A stowaway showed itself when I was about to brush my teeth. At first I thought it was a leaf on my shoulder, I didn’t have my glasses on, but it was a very hairy leaf! I carefully removed my t-shirt to inspect it closer. Gosh what a creature, spikes and slodges and hairy bits all over. How long had it been sat on my shoulder for? Had it watched episode 8 of The Handmaids Tale which had been quite riveting last night? Would it want to stay another two nights to see the end? I decided that it would far prefer to be back on something green outside.
I walked ahead windlass in hand, key of power in my pocket, not so far to the first lock today. Across the fields I could almost see where I’d alighted the bus on Saturday to walk through the Nature Reserve back to Oleanna, it would only be a twenty minute walk from here.
Today there would be memorials, trees planted for missed ones, miles stones dedicated to family and boat trips.
Sunshine between the clouds
We climbed up the Forest Locks, Bottom, Middle Bottom, Middle Top and finally Top Lock. We’d been following NB Scimitar who had pulled up on the 2 day moorings below Middle Top. The lady leant a hand with the bottom gates, our paths may cross over the next week as we’re both aiming for the top of the navigable canal. We paused in Middle Top to dispose of some fishy packaging, use of shore based facilities and to clear the prop before heading on.
Top Lock
At Forest Top Lock I climbed back onboard Oleanna, not my full brisk minutes done for the day, but a long stretch ahead to where we’d be stopping for lunch. The canal kinks round to run parallel to the A1 for a while through Randby. NB Seth Ellis a trip boat wasn’t on it’s mooring, where would we come across them?
Plenty of apples for their passengers on NB Seth Ellis
There is a tight bend just before the canal goes under the A1. Oleanna didn’t want to turn, the depth not sufficient for her to respond to the tiller. Reverse, still no response, Back further we seemed to be sat on something. More umph required, tooing and froing and we were on the move again just as well as we met NB Seth Ellis under the A1 bridge. The helm said how nice it was to see another boat.
Boat! a moving boat!
A lunch break on the 2 day moorings soon afterwards. When we’d been this way nine years ago we had our friend Frank with us. We’d been trying to find somewhere suitable for a barbeque that evening. I suspect we’d thought this mooring was too close to the A1 for it to be pleasant to sit out, there must be somewhere else. However we should have pulled in, wide grassy area and enough depth, a nice mooring despite the A1. After lunch we needed to crack on. I walked ahead to top up on the minutes.
Cabbages or Greens?
There are some canals that stay with you even if you’ve only travelled them once, others fade even though you’ve been on them several times. The Chesterfield is one of the former. Today we had the clear clear water and masses of fish swimming past, none quite as big as Frank had suggested nine years ago ‘a meter, I could swear it was a meter!’ Dragonflies of gold and blue darted back and forth, were they being amorous or seeing each other off? All far too quick to even manage to turn the camera on before they’d flitted away.
Below Osberton Lock 53
I walked past fields of cabbages or greens. Was this near where the posh horsey place was? The next lock was most certainly familiar. The bywash comes down on the side of the towpath just like a stream. The bridge below the lock and the lock cottage fenced off from view.
Here she comes
Once Oleanna was up the lock the two of us tried to open the top gate, a big mass of reeds in the way. What we needed now was a barge pole, or hook to try to get it the mass out. Another Deja Frank moment. Mick returned with the boat hook, we didn’t want a recurrence of what happened nine years ago when Frank used the pole to try to lift the reeds out of the water, the weight of which and ‘the pole must have been rotten’, snapped it in half. No more pole! We relived that moment.
Re-enactment
The towpath here is closed, a falling down bridge ahead. A sign on the gate and padlocks, plus a CRT work boat on the lock landing. Someone though has sorted out access, the remains of four of the five bars of the gate lie close by, splintered ends and then sawn ends. There is quite a stretch of towpath closed, but it hasn’t stopped people, we later had some walkers and an electric bike come past us.
We passed the spot where we’d just about managed to get into the side to enjoy our barbeque on NB Lillyanne. Frank had never had bananas with chocolate cooked on the coals before ‘Bloody disgusting that! Is there any more?!’ Tilly was also chased up a tree by a dog, a rare thing. She stayed out really quite late that night, Well woofers nearly always walk that way and then this way, so I stayed up the tree for when it came back.
Excuse me Tilly would like the use of that tree soon.
A while later we pulled in close to the 23 mile stone. Armco and a good place for Tilly for the night, an hours cruise to Kilton Low Lock 52 which will be opened tomorrow morning for assisted passage.
I think I preferred yesterdays outside
Time to catch up with Frank and tell him how big the fish had been today and that our barge pole had survived the day. Sock pair 102 were cast off by the end of the evening, just the ends to weave in then they can be hand delivered in a week or so.
5 locks, 6.4 miles, 56 brisk minutes walked, 1 punk rocker caterpillar, 1 boat overtaken, 2 willows trimmed, 1 lunch stop, 1 weed hatch visit, 1.5 hours shore leave, 0 trees climbed, 102 cast off, 7 courgette fritters, 1 barge pole still in 1 piece.
Retford and Worksop Boating Club to West Retford Visitor Moorings
Mick headed off to collect a trolley and await a Sainsbury’s delivery this morning as I waited for Sean, this weeks warden at the boat club, to come a take a meter reading of our electric use for the last few days. All good unplugged, our bill should be a little over £5. On his way back from picking up the shopping Mick got chatting to a boater a few boats back and was reminded of an assisted passage on the outskirts of Worksop that we’d forgotten about.
Last night we’d worked out where we’d be mooring each day so that we could reach the navigable end of the Chesterfield Canal and be in the right places at the right times for other things. Now we needed to factor in the two locks that are open for two hours twice a week. This took the grey cells a bit to work out and means we’ll need to be a bit swift up at the magical top of the canal if we’re not to be held up by several more days.
We pushed off a touch late with a bit further to cruise today than we’d originally planned. I walked on ahead with windlass in hand ready to set the last of the wide locks for us. I’d not checked how far away it was so ended up carrying my windlass for three miles.
At least it was closer
Walking past Narrow Bridge Cottage campsite it was hard to miss the convex mirror on a post, maybe this was so people could see under the canal bride if boats were coming. Then there is a big finger post sign, we were headed to Ruination!
A few unusual plants caught my eye today. A funny fluffy thing on what looked like a rose stem. Apple Rose?
Then the biggest seedhead I’ve seen, similar to a dandelion, but bigger with fewer seedy fairies. Yellow Salsify?
The cruise was slow, I reached Whit Sunday Pie Lock well ahead and called back to Mick. There was a boat following him, so we’d be able to share the lock. He should give me a heads up when he was close so I could empty the lock and have both gates open waiting. There was time to see if I could find out why Whit Sunday Pie Lock had its name.
Lock 60 and bridge 60
Well local folk law has it that a lady from a nearby cottage baked a large pie for the navvies building the canal who were working on a Whit Sunday. A nice tale. However somewhere else suggests if you hunt for maps that predate the canal then you will find a field called Whit Sunday Pie Field. Sadly I’ve not had time to hunt out the map in question.
However it appears that it is a tradition of the Retford and Worksop Boat Club to celebrate Whit Sunday at the lock with steak pie, carrots, peas and mash, sometimes followed by trifle. Maybe on our way back I should make us a steak pie, even if Whit Sunday is long gone.
That had been a big tree
Right, Mick was nearby and still being followed. Time to lift the paddles and empty the lock. Ah except this numpty had walked those three miles with a windlass, but had no key of power to unlock the locks to be able to lift any paddles! It at least gave me chance to look at how big a tree had been that had recently come down totally blocking the navigation below the lock.
Last chance to share
We shared the lock with NB Fleur, the owners second time out on her, they were very new and wished that there were a few more pubs along the canal. We let them go first and followed on behind, me walking the towpath expecting to pull in at the Hop Pole mooring for a late lunch.
There’s a steep bend under a bridge at the pub. Once under the bridge I realised I’d need to be on the off side so I returned and crossed over the road only to find the pub well and truly closed and gates padlocked down to the moorings. Back over the road to hitch a ride on Oleanna. There would have been space for us on the water point, but we don’t like to sit on water points for lunch, then the other gap available was nowhere near long enough. We’d have to carry on a while into Retford where we did find a space.
Our first narrow of the year
From here on we are on narrow locks. Retford Town Lock being the first. Looking back the other day to nine years ago, I wrote that this would be the last narrow lock we would do on NB Lillyanne. Well that turned out to not be true as our hoped for plan of moving onboard Oleanna in Sheffield didn’t come true, in fact it was April the following year and we’d locked through may more narrow locks by then.
The top gate has a bridge on it as it’s a busy footpath across the canal. Two chaps stood and watched, a group of young lads fished above the lock concerned that our boat would scare the fish away. We paused above the lock, access to the port side to be able to empty the yellow water tank with ease, then continued on.
Pretty good that way
The canal passes over the River Idle, back pumping up from the river where there was quite a healthy flow. Up West Retford Lock and on into the woods. Here a 2 day mooring was our destination for the day. No-one else around, it had already been awarded a stamp of approval before we’d even tie up! Only an hour and a half of shore leave was granted, an extra ten minutes taken! We may have to try to stop here on the way back.
With Tilly busy outside I got the bathroom bottomed and then the mop and bucket out. Two washes for the floor today, then a nice sit down outside whilst everything dried off. This gave me chance to chat to the lady from the boat behind and a chap who’d been cutting the grass, we’d found ourselves all staring out across the field alongside the moorings.
Bottoms up!
We’ve actually been plugged into the boat behind’s electric, which I apologised for, when we’d arrived they’d been moored nearer the club house but had come back to their mooring. I promised that tomorrow when we moved off I’d make sure she was plugged back into her meter.
Over in Scarborough Mick visited the hospital first thing then headed back to the house to finish off and pick up his bits, leaving our new lodger in residence. He then hopped onto the Coastliner bus to York. However, with the bus running 15 minutes late on arriving in to Malton and it being full of very noisy kids he decided to swap modes of transport to York and changed to the train, not free but would mean he’d catch all his connections, most importantly the last bus back to Clayworth which leaves Retford at 15:55.
Bailing going on
After lunch I plotted out a walk. Maybe 50 minutes, I should be back just before Mick arrived. Back along the towpath towards Drakeholes, I then retraced my steps towards the Nature Reserve, finding a path across the harvested field much easier than when going the opposite way.
I could see clouds of dust being kicked up by the tractors in the fields bailing up the straw. I hoped that the field I was wanting to return by wouldn’t be being harvested.
On reaching the River Idle I turned almost back on myself into the next field, maize, these certainly wouldn’t be being harvested yet. My OS map showed a path across the field heading in a north north easterly direction, now where was that path? The start of the field was a touch bald of crop, so maybe the way through was a touch further in.
Following the tractor track
Hmmm?! No sign of it. It should just clip the corner of the next field! I started to walk along one of the tractor gangways hoping to find a way through. Nope! I walked and walked, at least the going was easy on the wide path. Aware that maybe I should be walking around the edge of the field I decided that actually I’d be doing no harm to my self or the crop by keeping to the pathway. On and on it went, the maize getting higher and higher. Over head I could hear a plane. Was I about to enter into a Hitchcock film? Be chased along through the crop by a plane swooping low? My pace was brisk, brisker than normal. If I carried on north by north north east I must surely reach the edge of the field sooner or later. Thankfully gradually the maize reduced in height and the edge of the crop arrived. I walked back to South south east to where I could see a bridge over a drainage ditch. I was back on track.
Swamped by Maize
Except no I wasn’t! Another field of maize! The footpath totally obscured again, the tractor pathways narrower than before and running almost due north not north east. At least this field looked to be smaller and I soon reached the far end, followed the edge of the field back southwards, crossed into the next field. oh thank goodness a proper grassy path to follow.
Is there a path really there?!
But swapping into the next field to walk the boundary I really needed a machete! Brambles, nettles, thistles clawed at me, the not so friendly cover at times over my head, was this really a footpath? There had been a yellow topped post pointing me this way. Then finally I climbed up through some bracken another yellow topped post and popped out onto the towpath, what a relief!
Escorted
The swans escorted me to Otters Bridge where I walked up in to the village skirting across the bottoms of some gardens, managing to avoid a growling silver back gorilla. At the back of The Blacksmiths pub was a mobile Post Office, very handy if I’d anything to post.
St Peters
It was now a few minutes after when the bus was due in. When I’d set out on my walk my return time should have been sufficient to have boiled the kettle ready for Mick’s return, but after my extra mile and a half Hitchcock detour he’d get back to Oleanna before me. Sure enough I could see him just stepping down into the well deck.
Post Office
We spent some time looking at where we need to be next and when. Where would serve our purposes best? A plan was put together to reach the top of the Chesterfield Canal, we just have to hope for no fallen trees, serious weed, or a lack of water to stop our progress.
We’ve got all our fingers, toes and paws crossed.
0 locks, 0 miles, 2 buses, 2 trains, 1 very clean boat, 6 hours shore leave, 1 Hitchcock walk, 1.5 mile detour, 1 jar of olives, 1 boy back home, 79 brisk minutes, 1 plan formulated.
Cricket, the last Tour on free TV, end of the world haircuts, unicorn/uniform, and Alasdair’s under croft were this mornings subjects. Everyone was present and the screen was rather full as Mick is still in Scarborough ready to do a turn around.
St Peter’s
Dave had mentioned that there were some murals in the church his wife said were worth looking at and that there was a nice walk up to that woody bit on the hill, so today after the Geraghty zoom I set off to see if she was right.
A good door handle
There are two pubs in the village of Clayworth, The Brewers Arms and The Blacksmiths. The former is a homely pub with generous portions, the latter a gastro pub where you can get a Chateaubriand for two at £85, certainly the aromas in the village smelt good!
The east window
St Peter’s Church dates from the 12th C, added to in the 13th 14th and 15th Centuries and underwent a serious renovation in the 1870s. A mesh door covers the thick oak door, aimed to stop birds from getting trapped inside the church, they were doing a good job of trying when I came to leave, swooping in.
It was dark inside, maybe I could turn some lights on. A notice said where to turn the chancel lights on, I just needed to find the card machine to then find the switches. Job done I could see more especially in the chancel.
The north wall
Phoebe Anna Traquair was an Irish born artist who married a Scottish Palaeontologist and moved to Edinburgh were she achieved international recognition for her role in the Arts and Crafts movement. She was an illustrator, painter and embroiderer. Here in St Peter’s is one of her two English murals.
On the south side
Commissioned by Lady D’Arcy Godolhin Osborne to commemorate the safe return of her son Captain Joseph Laycock from the second Boer War. The paintings cover the chancel walls, high up over arches and around the east window, gold glints around faces. On the northern side angels trumpet as the three kings hand over their gifts to Jesus and Mary. A lady looks on could this be Lady D’Arcy? She stands in front of what looks like a viaduct painted into the background.
On the southern side is a depiction of the last supper. More faces stand out from the 1900 style, are these more portraits of locals or members of the family? Very much of their time, finished in 1905. In 1996 the murals were restored to their original splendour by Elizabeth Hirst, sadly now they seem to be deteriorating a touch.
The paintings are very worth visiting, Dave’s wife was right.
A clear path
I now chose to walk up the road alongside the church passing the cemetery and a big house where classical music filled the air. The road turned into a footpath, I was glad of my jeans today as nettles and thistles lined the edges. I joined paths between high hedges, then cut across a field ripe for harvest, today’s path far easier to see than the one a few days ago.
Views!
Skirting round fields the views stretched away into the distance, if only the sun was shining. I passed the wood and started to make my way down hill. A field of white flowering Buckwheat and purple Fiddleneck. Oleanna hid behind a farm house below, other boats tagged on to the end of the moorings visible. Dave’s wife was also right about the walk. I wonder if she’s any more suggestions for tomorrow?
Another archway of trees
Back at Oleanna I got the big vacuum cleaner out, being plugged in I could work my way through the boat which in recent times has become a little unkempt. One more step to being a clean boat again.
Another Gateway
Over in Scarborough Mick had waved goodbye to two lodgers this morning. Initially they had scored a 6 maybe 7. But they were soon demoted to a 5 when a roasting tin was found unwashed along with the juicer! One side of the house was sorted ready for a new lodger to move in mid afternoon.
Lolling on the grass
0 locks, 0 miles, 0 buses they don’t run on Sundays, 5 hours shore leave, 5! plus reminders about rent, 1 muralled church, 1 wood on a hill, 75 minutes brisk walking, 1 boat hoovered top to bottom, 1 busy washing line in Scarborough.
A drizzly start to the day, so I awarded myself an extra long cuppa in bed, I’d not be catching the 10:20 bus today. As I sat having my breakfast a procession of boats came past all from the boat club moorings, the last one being Dave, what was the mass exodus for? He didn’t say, but waved a very cheery wave and headed onwards towards Retford.
Bus stop
At a little after 11 I made use of the post box at the bus stop, for a pair of socks, and waited for the next 97 bus, it was a few minutes late, would this affect me catching my next bus out the other side of Retford? I disembarked with everyone else and turned to check which gate the 99 would be leaving from. Ah, the 97 had just changed into the 99. I wonder if I could have stayed on board and only paid one bus fare?
That’s the way
A few stops in the direction of Doncaster I alighted and walked along the busy road then took the side road to the Idle Valley Nature Reserve, the largest nature reserve in Nottinghamshire. I’d enjoyed walking round the lakes near Lemonroyd earlier this year and hoped here would be just as good, if not better.
A pretty start
A quick comfort break at the visitor centre to set me up for my walk back to Oleanna. There wasn’t much information to be found inside, just cakes and coffee really and a pretty good view over the first of the lakes. I took a photo of the reserve’s map for ease of reference, I’d already plotted out my route along the River Idle then between two lakes where Bitterns and Beavers are meant to hang out. I knew there would be slim chance of me seeing either of them, but you never know.
Well the River Idle here is narrow and has quite high banks, the footpath wiggles its way round following every meander. There were several groups of people walking the path, but I soon left them behind. Not much really to see, just a good path through the undergrowth, lots of plants and plenty of giant blackberries, the biggest and fattest being picked as I walked onwards.
Near Tiln there was a view over a fishing lake on the other side of the river, which was the first real view I had. I hoped for better things to come as there were more lakes ahead. I opted to keep following the river alongside Chainbridge Pit, but I really wouldn’t have known it was there.
At last a view!
Motorbikes zoomed along Chainbridge Lane a wide track thankfully not muddy. I spotted a viewing area on my map so headed there for my lunch. There was a view as suggested, the lake some distance away and the use of binoculars essential, the zoom on my camera not really up to much as everything was so far away. I made use of the bench to eat my sandwich and have a glug of water before setting off again.
Great White Egret
No views from the tracks, maybe I should have stayed on the smaller path on the other side of a hedge. Another viewing point, another distant view. At least here I got to see what I think was a Great White Egret as it was far bigger than the Mallards sat close by.
Teasles
I turned onto the track between the Bittern Pool and where Beavers had been released a few years ago. A crowd huddled at the next viewing area. ‘No that was a Chiff Chaff. Maybe we should try at the next pool see if there are any waders’ My verdict after a brief look across to the distant lake was that yes they’d see a lot more at the next pool.
By now I was feeling that the Nature Reserve was just that, reserved for nature and not human eyes.
Maybe it’s a bit different in the winter months with far less to cover the views. I managed to make out that there was water in the Bittern Pool, but there was not one jot of a view to where the Beavers have taken up residence. I did however get to see a lot of swans, coots and some Long Horn Cattle before I turned away from the reserve and crossed over the River Idle to head back to the boat.
A bridleway headed in the required direction. Ducking under trees, tip toeing past nettles, avoiding being spiked by sloe bushes which were heaving with berries. Then across a harvested field, trying to keep to an invisible path. Sweetcorn still quite a way to go before it would be ripe enough to eat, although from past experience it’s often the type of maize used for cattle feed.
Back at the canal I crossed over into a field where a path crosses just by Clayworth Grange which has been split into three or four rather nice looking dwellings. Stick to the path, or else! I veered off slightly as there was a large patch of nettles, I don’t think anyone saw me! Back into Clayworth and I was facing the bus stop where I started the days adventure. I’d considered just walking to the nature reserve and back, but concluded that that would end up being rather a long walk. However my route with the hope of seeing evidence of Beavers had me walk over 8 miles and 20,000 paces, much at a brisk pace. I think today I set a new record of 134 brisk minutes.
Back at the bus stop where I started
A touch pooped I opted to stay in, not willing to walk back to the club house for a drink this evening. As I sat at the computer the boats that had passed this morning came back. It must have looked like I’d been sat here all day!
0 locks, 0 miles by boat, 2 buses, well 1 really, 1 wee break, 1 CRT key taken for another wee on the way back to the boat, 4 VERY distant views, 453234 coots, 4433 swans, 1 great egret, 1 Gatekeeper, 0 beavers, 0 bitterns, 17 cows, 8.27 miles walked, 134 minutes briskly, 3 hours shore leave, 1 bully of a cat!
Mick was up early, early enough to catch the 07:21 bus from the village into Retford, then onto a train to Doncaster, swapping trains (to save a few pounds), then on to York. The moorings in York looked busy as his train headed on to Scarborough. A bus to the hospital for an appointment, he was early which didn’t mean he got seen any sooner. Then he opted for an afternoon at the cricket, Yorkshire were playing Surrey at North Marine Road. Mick is a life member of Scarborough Cricket Club, not that he often gets chance to go.
North Marine Road Scarborough
Back on the boat I got ready to head out for the morning. There aren’t so many buses to and from Retford, would there be enough to keep me occupied in the town until my return?
A good wander around the numerous charity shops. A hunt for a new collapsible bucket and possibly a little bowl proved fruitless. A couple of years ago collapsible buckets were everywhere, but none to be seen today, maybe it’s because when they fail they split big time!
A couple of murals, I suspect painted by the same artist, one about the sheep markets that used to be held until 1980 and the other about narrowboats, not that you could tell as there’s a great big motor home in front of it!
In the market square there was bric-a-brac for sale along with antiques and three very shiny Rovers on display. I found the mileage sign to London and York then walked round some of the back streets.
The Majestic
The Majestic Theatre is really rather lovely, from the outside. It’s façade screams out that it was built in 1927. It has enjoyed boom times and bad times, managing to escape demolition, been divided up into two cinema screens. In 1993 it was bought by locals and has been restored back to its former glory.
A big chapel
The Wesley Chapel is huge. John Wesley visited Retford in 1781, after which the first chapel was built by John Mackfarland with his own money. This proved to be too small and was replaced eight years later with a bigger building. In 1822 a Georgian chapel was built on a different site, then some 60 years later the present chapel was erected in it’s Victorian Gothic splendour able to seat 900. Sadly it wasn’t open today to have a look round.
An early lunch. I had somewhere in mind that I’d spotted on the map on Bridgegate. Table Top Cafe aka The Leaky Teacup a gluten free cafe with a difference. Thankfully I was aware of the sort of place it was, it’s not just a cafe!
Only a quarter of the board games on offer
The building is wonderful, built in 1900 and has several floors which house numerous rooms where board games and dungeons and dragons get played. The release of a new game would have the building filled with 30 enthusiastic nerds later today. But at midday there were only a couple of other people about. I ordered my fish finger butty, a tradition when in the house on a Friday, with some chips and a cuppa which came on legs!
The butty was good, chips maybe not so
I was given a guided tour and shown the room where it was likely to be the coolest. Here I sat accompanied by a wall of board games, another of spell books, I think I counted nine different Monopoly sets. There was a long wait for my food, the oven hadn’t been on so far today so it took some time to warm up, but so long as I didn’t miss my bus back I was content. I suspect the menu is tailored for those playing board games, pizza, sandwiches, cake were the offerings.
Retford Town Lock the first narrow lock on the canal
Now I had to brisk walk back into town for the bus and do some shopping on the way. A pork steak from the butchers and some veg from the stall outside, job done and I was on a bus on my way back to Oleanna.
Bay leaf time
Time to do a touch of cleaning and tidying onboard. I had thought I’d give Oleanna a quick clean and it would take an afternoon, but I suspect it’ll take longer. The galley tops and stove top got a good cleaning, Bar Keepers Friend used to get the edges of the work top clean, I don’t quite know how they get so grey, but they do. Since March we’ve had bay leaves drying, a gift from Frank. Today was the day they were finally going into the big jam jar for storage. I don’t remember the last time I bought bay leaves, Frank’s tree is very large and every now and then he turns up with a whole branch from it!
Madam lounging on the grass
Some blackberries were picked to go with cereal for breakfast and a frittata cooked, using up bits and bobs in the fridge. By the time I’d eaten I didn’t have the energy to head to the boat club bar for a drink, instead I chatted to Mick on Teams and then settled down with a glass of wine in front of the TV and got on with the next pair of socks whilst watching a series I’d started when Mick was in Scarborough before.
0 locks, 0 miles, 7 buses, 3 trains, 0 bucket, 2 murals, 1 pretty theatre, 4 fish fingers, 48 hours soak test for Mick, 1 afternoon of cricket, 0 lodgers met yet, 1 mad dash for the 2 hourly bus, 60 minutes brisk walking, 1 clean galley, 4 hours shore leave, 0.3 of a jar of bay leaves.
