New Years Eve and news from the marina, via Al and Lisa, was that water levels were good, maybe up a bit, but it was most definitely icy out there. It was good to hear that the bigger flow from the temporary fix at the breach site didn’t seem to be affecting the levels in Goole.
Mark Penn put up some frosty photos of the breach site. Water still coming through the temporary fix, but appearing to be flowing the right way. It’s a good job the Aire and Calder’s water is supplied from the river rather than a reservoir.
Mark also took his drone up to Pollington, taking photos of the north bank of the canal where we’d noticed the pilling relaxing into the canal. From his photos you can see there is another layer of pilling further back, more curved than that by the waters edge.
The post on facebook led to various comments regarding an old railway bridge across the canal at this point. This was a Bascule bridge, one of two high level moving bridges on the canal, the other was a swing bridge below Knostrop Lock. An act of parliament was drawn up saying that anything that crossed the Aire and Calder had to be either moveable or high enough for sea going ships to get under, intending the canal to be like the Manchester Ship Canal but this fell by the wayside. Thank you Alf Huckitt for this info.
The bridge
Then Phil Pritchard provided a photo of the bridge, built by John Butler Ltd of Stanningly, Leeds in 1884 to carry the Hull and Barnsley Railway over the canal. The mechanism to lift it was never fitted as it wasn’t required for the vessels that were using the canal. It was demolished in 1974.
The line just to the East of Pollington in 1947
Mick looked for evidence on maps of the route the railway had taken. Quite often tell tail signs of embankments and lines of trees give away an old route.
There’s the line of trees crossing the canal
Looking at old maps and then comparing them to Google satellite view we could trace out the route, joining the lines of trees and pale lines in fields.
Route just traceable
My wiggly line shows the route of the line through Gowdall to Drax.
An interesting bit of detective work to keep us busy.
Happy New Year
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 more day away from the boat, 1 new year, 3 of us in the house.
I woke at 6:30, my internal clock nudging me awake at the time we could have been leaving if the levels were good. But there was no surprise as I looked out the front, the levels had gone back up again! Back to sleep it was.
Some old wires for the telephone engineers
This morning’s Geraghty Zoom included Revengeful Gutters, Ging Gang Goolie, Currier Couriers and slight envy of Marions new Fire Pit they’d be trying out tonight.
By 11 the levels at Viking Recorder seemed to be levelling out, but would they fall sufficiently for us to head off downstream tomorrow morning, which is when our original plan had been. A look at the forecast suggested not and the level would drop a bit, but then go back up again!
She tried to explain things to me. ‘It’s like your be’doingee ball Tilly. We can only tie the good dry outside up when the ball hits the floor, but at the moment it spends a lot more time in the air than on the floor. When it does hit the floor it immediately jumps back up into the air.‘ I’d be able to put my paw on it to stop it bouncing back up, they’d do the same if they really cared about me!!!
Sign post
After watching, La Course, the Womens one day race of the Tour de France we had a chat with the Lockie. He confirmed that we wouldn’t be going anywhere tomorrow morning, but with fine weather for the next few days Monday is looking like it might be possible. Fingers crossed.
NB Large Marge following us downstream in 2016
Four years ago today we’d woken early and entered Naburn Lock in the mist heading back to Selby after a few days in York. We’d managed to visit the city when the levels had stayed low for a few days and as we left the river was rising again, by the end of the day the mooring bollards at Naburn were under water, today they were nowhere to be seen!
Would the shop at the campsite have our newspaper? We went to ask, but they don’t sell papers. With no shop in Naburn Village we’d have to do without a paper today.
St Matthews Church, Naburn
Instead we went for a walk. The grass verge to the village is wide and mown. St Matthews church sits on the outskirts. We could smell food coming from the pub, but resisted and headed off down Vicarage Lane to find the old railway line, now Route 65 of the National Cycle Network.
The old East Coast Mainline
In 1864 this route was opened knocking half an hour off the journey time between London and Edinburgh. It carried trains like the Flying Scotsman and the Mallard, coal and steel from Yorkshire to other parts of the country. Trains would also take workers from the villages south of York in to Rowntrees factory on the Foss Islands line. Local passenger services stopped in 1958 and the goods traffic ceased in 1964.
Only 10 miles to Selby, it feels like another world today
In the 1980’s work was underway developing the Selby coalfield which coincided with electrification of the rail line. Possible subsidence in the area might cause speed restrictions on the line, now was a good time to bypass the swing bridges at Naburn and Selby creating a new route, getting British Coal to pay for it.
Once the new route opened, the stretch from Riccall to York was sold for £1 to Sustrans and formed the first six miles of the National Cycle Network.
The solar system
To mark the millennium, staff from the University of York created a 10km, 575,872,239 to 1 scale model of the solar system. Scale models of the planets are positioned along the route, The Sun being closest to Tescos in York and Pluto just outside Riccall and there are 1/3 scale models of the Cassini probe and Voyager 1.
King of the castle
Today we joined the route around about half way between Uranus and Jupiter. Heading towards the Ouse we soon came across a raised mound up to a turret made from signal ducting. We climbed to the top expecting a view, but trees got in the way. Below a sign suggested sitting on a bench at the base and lining your view up with a stick. This we did, and there was the view, the central tower of York Minster. Originally this could be seen from the turret, but an oak tree has grown to mask it.
By Naburn Station there is the Tuck Trike Saturn Stop. Here picnic benches offer a break to walkers and cyclists, there is a cafe, a hut with a portapottie and quite a few artworks around the site.
We then walked past Saturn on it’s plinth, a sign post pointing the way to the next planets in each direction.
Naburn Swing Bridge was our next landmark, sitting over the fast flowing Ouse.
Naburn Swing Bridge
Murals have been painted on the concrete walls, poetry added to the rounded sides of the bridge and high above everything sits The Fisher Of Dreams with bicycle and dog.
Designed by Pete Rogers the sculpture was commissioned as part of York City’s Millenium celebrations. The design involved the community, three ideas were formulated, in January 2001 a vote was taken and The Fisher of Dreams was chosen.
On the bridge
The sculpture depicts a person holding a fishing rod sitting on the supports of the old control tower. On the end of the fishing line is a cut out of the Flying Scotsman.
Behind the figure lies their bicycle, a dog with cocked leg taking a wee on it’s saddle. A very amusing sculpture which it was nice to get to see from a different angle.
From below
Down below a big cruiser fought it’s was upstream against the current.
We retraced our steps and then walked down into the village. Those chips smelt good!
Late afternoon we could hear funny noises from outside. Was someone having a shower? Did someones engine have a strange rhythm? It was in fact a cruiser turned up to fill with water. They pulled in behind us and tied up to the boat on the outside, hoses passed over boat roofs. He’d run out a few days ago, so today he really needed to fill up!
Big bum!
That wasn’t the end of the excitement for the day. I’d just served up our lamb potato and spinach curry when there were voices and engine noises coming from the lock area. One big cruiser was in the lock facing upstream.
One on the way up
Ropes were being passed round the swing bridge, then another cruiser came in behind them. The tidal river was so high the height difference up onto the none tidal section could only have been about a foot. These were almost certainly the two cruisers that had left the other day. Wonder how much diesel they’d used pushing against the current to get here from Selby?
Make that two
0 locks, 0 miles, 3.75 miles walked, 1,443,300,000km to Uranus, 648,860,000km to Jupiter, £1 for 6 miles, 1 swing bridge, 1 fisher, 1 engine, 1 bike, 1 dog, 3 cruisers moving, 2 boaters wondering what cat kebabs taste like.
The voice of Houdini woke us this morning, Mick was to be on the 8:57 train to Scarborough to visit the dentist, so there was no lounging around in bed with a cuppa for him. A peek out of the window revealed that the level had risen again overnight, only what looked like a couple of inches, we’d still have at least another foot before we’d be getting wet feet on the moorings here. Gaugemap was checked along all the tributaries up stream before Mick committed to his journey eastwards. I’d not be too keen on moving Oleanna on my own should the level rise!
Yurck
Today was to be windy, very windy. Tilly and I got on with the normal morning routine, keeping an eye on the other side of the river for the level and being buffeted about somewhat.
On the other side of Lendal Bridge is where all the trip boats get moored overnight, at the tail end all the little red hire boats are huddled up together. I was quite surprised when these had been moved mid morning, then at intervals of 10 to 15 minutes one would pass by. The strong winds which we’d not consider moving in didn’t seem to be a problem for them. Then the trip boats started to do their rounds, adding to the swell on the river.
Rising levels
It was a bumpy morning, a little unsettling so I needed to keep myself occupied. As I was expecting visitors I decided to give Oleanna a tidy and sweep through, not that anyone would be coming onboard, but it did the job of keeping my eyes away from checking the level constantly. A batch of biscuits were popped in the oven and had just cooled off when there were voices outside.
Halfway up
Jaye and Duncan had come for a cuppa and a catch up, other than briefly last night it’s just over a year since we last saw them. If the weather had been more conducive I’d have made refreshments for us to enjoy on the river bank watching the world go by. This was still a vague hope, but was soon replaced with heading into town to find a cafe.
Duncan suggested Spring Espresso on Lendal, a small cafe. They couldn’t move two tables together for us, but we could use two tables which was just fine helping us all to keep our distance.
Yum!
Eggs Benedict with spinach and mushrooms, the poached eggs cooked perfectly, yummy!
There was lots to catch up on, theatre, friends, tenants, our travels etc. which meant trying to eat got in the way a touch.
As we were nearly finished another Scarborough face appeared at the door. Georgie used to work at the SJT and is now a Producer for York Mediale an International Media Arts Festival that is held every year. She spotted Jaye and Duncan and then did a second take when she saw me. It was lovely to see her even if it was very brief as she was meeting with an artist.
Duncan and Jaye
A lovely lunchtime meeting and catch up with good friends. Back at Oleanna the level still looked pretty much the same. More checks on Gaugemap and the Governments river and sea levels site. Looking at the Viking Recorder levels there is a forecast level, this was due to remain steady for a while but later today to rise by half a meter. Because of this when Mick had seen his dentist he cycled to the house, picked up post and cancelled an appointment with a plumber so that he could be back sooner, just in case we needed to move.
The ‘Yay’ train
At 14:24 I got a text message. Mick was on the ‘Yay!’ train. When he worked in York, pre-boating days, he commuted from Scarborough by train, there was a ‘Yay’ train and a late train. Today trains were two hours apart, they may have more carriages but his return journey was quite busy.
We had a walk around the block so that I could see the new footbridge. Built with social distancing in mind it is wonderfully wide. Built from steel and fashionable rusted metal it does the job well. Mick reckons the bridge would have saved him at least five minutes each way on his commute, so he’d have managed the ‘Yay’ train more often.
Leeman Road sorting office
Some post had arrived at the house for our old tenant, so this needed returning. Handily Leeman Road sorting office still has a late collection even if it’s clock is wonky. As a child it was exciting to climb in the car with Dad and come to post a letter late at night, imagining there to be someone just behind the post box who would stamp it with a postmark, sort it and send it on it’s way to arrive before 8am somewhere.
The bar walls are all one way, I pity the person who lost their coat during their circular perambulation, would they have to walk ALL the way back round to pick up their coat?
As the streets seemed that bit emptier we decided to go a touch further. A patch of unkempt riverbank behind Coney Street needed investigating. Could this be where York City Council could install some pontoons for boaters?
Coney Street used to be THE shopping street in York, now the number of empty shops is scary. A chap disappeared down a slope between WH Smith and Boots, this was where we needed to be. A steep narrow concrete ramp led down to the river, the walls on either side showing grooves from many deliveries.
At the end mesh fencing stopped us from checking out a set of steps down into the river and caged delivery bays now host bicycle racks. The chap came out with his bike, ‘There’s nothing down here!’ Well actually he was wrong. Should anyone ever decide to provide flood safe moorings for visitors in York here would be an ideal spot. Unused river frontage, steps (that would need replacing) and access up to Coney Street along with a very old WH Smith logo.
Waterstones has moved, the public toilets in Parliament Street have been demolished and replaced with portacabins, just as ugly as their predecessors. The pavement along this stretch was surprisingly uneven, up and down. I wonder if there are plans to try to level this out, maybe loose the trees that were planted in the 70’s 80’s, the fountain from then has gone.
Betty’s World Famous Fat Rascals
A glance in at Betty’s tearoom is always a must. They looked busy but could have coped with two more. When we got back to Oleanna the level looked to have dropped just a touch more, ‘max’ on the mooring sign, was now just about above water. We’ll see what happens overnight.
Minstergate and the Minster
0 locks, 0 miles, 2 trains, 1 filling, 2 visitors, 3 more mentions, 2 photos, 1 rising river, 1 dropping river, 1 very blowy day, 2 poached eggs, 1 surprise meeting, 2 lovely hours, 1 wide bridge, 1 top hat with covid visor, 1 solution for York mooring if only the council gave 2 hoots!
A day for not doing much really. The wind and rain didn’t make the thought of moving very appealing, even the hardiest crew member Tilly wasn’t impressed with the weather. I think the amount of footfall here yesterday actually had more to do with her choice than the weather.
Reference for #unit21
As there is still a chance that a project I’ve been offered with Dark Horse Theatre Company might happen next year I decided it was way time I did a bit of sussing out for it. The production will have a lot of projection in it and after watching Small Island last week I decided to get in touch with my friend Jen. Jen was a Scenic Artist at The National Theatre and had worked on the show. The constant background of projection had made me wonder what colour the back wall had actually been. Almost certainly not white as this would have allowed light to bounce around all over the place, but was it grey?
She came back with the response that the back wall had been heavily textured and painted in several shades of grey. If I’d been to see the show I’d have been able to appreciate the texturing and the work that had gone into what on the TV screen at home looked more like a plain wall to project onto with just a bit of something to break it up a bit.
More reference
I sent another email to a good friend, normally a lighting designer, currently redesigning his garden, for a touch more information. Then I settled down to do a bit of hunting around for flight/boiler suits and hats for the cast to wear. I will soon need to provide a costume design so that it can be incorporated into the animation for the show.
The day being so damp and chilly Mick lit the stove and gave Oleanna a glowing warm interior. Tilly appreciated this and took pole position on the sofa for much of the rest of the day.
Think someone doesn’t like speeding bikes
Mid afternoon it looked like outside was drying up a touch, so I decided to see if there might be any views to be seen from the hill up towards Lyme Park. Mick wasn’t so keen so I set off on my own, making sure he knew what route I’d be taking.
Todays route
I returned to the water point, at the Trading Place I realised that the chap yesterday hadn’t been constructing something in the doorway, but it was actually a little trolley that he could put peoples purchases on which would then slide to the doorway for them to collect. Shame I didn’t take a photo.
I won’t go to the wedding today
Over the bridge and straight up the track to where it forked, a quick check of my map and I took the right fork, still heading up hill. Cattle grids to keep the sheep in and plenty of farm traffic. There were tractors moving large round bales of silage from one place to another, builders pickups and a large transit that seemed to be visiting every farm in the valley. It took a while to climb up the hill past all the farm yards sadly missing many of the disused mine shafts as I went. The area used to be filled with coal mines.
Cheadle Hume I think
But once I was above all the tractors and mud I was able to catch my breath and admire the grey view towards Stockport and Cheadle Hume.
A good twisty turny trunk
Fields of sheep sat either side of the track. A few woolly beasts had found the tastier grass on the wrong side of the hedge which lead to a game of chicken, in a sheep kind of way. I kept myself right up to one side of the track hoping not to worry them too much, as they all carried on running away from me up the track. But soon a gate stood in their way! What were they to do? I carried on walking up the side, then all of a sudden the one brain cell between the six of them jumped into action, one sheep making a dash for it past me, the others followed suit, panic over.
Dreamitnowdoit
A large banner covered a gate outside the last house on the track. This must be where Heather Broadbent lives. Last year she started on the around the world yacht race. Glancing at her blog and facebook page, it looks like the boat, CV21 got to Australia before the rest of the race was put on hold due to the pandemic.
National Trust tracks up towards Lyme Park
Through the next gate I was on National Trust land. I had no idea how much of my planned route would be on their tracks and the gates would be closing in half an hour. I reckoned that as soon as I started to head down hill I should be fine and I would soon be crossing over fields to the next track to make my descent, so I should make it in time.
Ladder and dog flap, Tilly would just step through
A large wooden ladder, with a handy dog flap below it joined me onto the North Cheshire Way for a couple of fields. Of course as I changed direction the wind now blew drizzle at me, so with my coat zipped right up I continued across the wet grass.
All ready for reassembly
A section of dry stone wall was mid way through being mended. All the stones had been laid out of the grass, graded into sizes and the top stones all ready to go back sat in a line.
There they go
Below in the field I could hear a ladies voice. The milk heard gathering by a gate. They’d be heading for milking. Would I get to the farm before them? She opened the gate and off trotted Mable ahead of the pack, leading the way to the milking shed. I think she got there before the last straggler had left the field. Luckily for me the route to the milking shed didn’t involve the track down hill.
Mable, way out infront
Back on tarmac I passed Platt Wood Farm with immaculate gardens and then veered northwards. A short distance onwards was a rather fine Volvo Amazon Estate sheltered out of the rain.
Sheltered
The house it was next to was for sale. At first it looked like the house was detached and the sign suggested it came along with some woodland. Now if we got a mooring at Higher Poynton we’d be able to walk from boat to house quite easily. A shame we’ve not got £600k to spare! And it’s only a semi!
It has a WC/Study room!
By now the drizzle had turned to rain and I was glad I was mostly sheltered by the tall hedges. Over the canal again at Bullocks Bridge and a very damp walk back to Oleanna. Mick had suggested he might move the boat so that we didn’t have to listen to the music from across the way for another evening, but due to the rain the side hatch had been kept shut, well until the skies dried up again in the evening! Oh well, we’ll move on again tomorrow.
Back up on the hill
0 locks, 0 miles, 1 wet blowy day, 3.2 miles walked, 6 panicked sheep, 1 round the world yachts woman, 5 minutes on National Trust land (worth a years membership), 1 cosy boat, 1 pair of soggy jeans, 2 much Oasis.
Bridge 12 to Bonfire Night Mooring, Lea Hall Bridge 22
The view on tip toes
Warmer today, no need for coats, well until it rained, which we managed to avoid. Tilly was kept in so that after breakfast we’d be able to push off. The view we’d come for was just visible if you stood on the gunnels on tip toe.
Wonderful view
Someone else had obviously thought the view was worth a bench over looking it at some point too!
As we rolled back the covers I realised that the boat at the other end of the moorings was familiar, the chap stepping on and off his boat was checking the paintwork. It had to be one of our Pandemic Mooring Buddies from the bottom of Hurleston. As we came along side the sign writing confirmed it was the chap who had designed the yellow bicycle from when the Tour de France went through Hebden Bridge. He spotted us coming and bob out to say hello.
A Covid Boating Buddy
His plans are similar to ours over the remainder of the year so our paths may cross a few more times before summer is up, although I suspect we will be travelling a bit quicker than him. We were able to pass on the information about the Macclesfield Canal that Lee on Halsall had given us, so thumbs up all round. Maybe one day we’ll find out this chaps name. He’d certainly got the best stretch, just off the end of the 48hr mooring and with a gap in the hedge and trees, he had the view!
Field cats
On we cruised, another short day. We’ll have longer days at some point this summer but for now an hour and a bit is all we need to cover whilst we wait for locks to open.
Bunny keeping the cats in view
This stretch is very familiar, the coach house, the stable block now a nice home for someone and the fields of cows which used to wear very bad toupees! Wonder if the Yankee candle shop will open this coming week?
Coach House
Through the last wooded section our destination for the day came into view. Two boats already pulled up, but we headed for the far end, our usual spot. From this mooring over looking Winsford and the River Weaver we’ve watched fireworks on two Bonfire Nights.
Always meet at bridges
The view at the far end was okay, but the trees at this time of year have leaves, not normally present in November and we weren’t expecting a firework display. The doors were opened and Tilly set forth to see who she could find.
Wonder where this chap was going
with his world on his back
Much to her disturbance she found a herd of milk cows who were very very vocal in the field below. So when we realised that the two boats behind us, in a better position for the summer, were moving off I called Tilly back. Last time we were here we nudged to the very far end when a boat moved off whilst Tilly was out. A very bemused cat sprung out from the sideways trees and wondered why I was on someone else’s boat. But due to the cows today I had no difficulty in calling her home before we moved the outside with her in it.
Overgrown Winsford view
Right in the centre of the mooring we have views on both sides. To the east the West Coast Main line crosses in view, there are more trains than we expected, but not too many to be annoying.
Trains
During the afternoon I went out with Tilly for a little walk and Mick chatted with his friend Chris who has just signed up with a boat builder and hopes to be cruising the network shortly before Crick boat show next year. All very exciting.
More long grass to pounce in
This evening we have watched the final part of Noughts and Crosses, we’d saved it to watch in a week and what a week to have chosen to watch it in! It charts the story of Sephy and Callum who fall in love in a dystopian London where the black elite rule the white underclass.
Veg box peas added into a quinoa salad tonight
At about 9:30 this evening we could hear fireworks down below in Winsford. How lovely of someone to think of us on our Fireworks mooring, just a shame it wasn’t a touch darker so that we could appreciate them.
PS. The queue today at Snugbury’s had a wait of 40 minutes and caused mayhem on the A51. The police in the end had to turn people away. Glad I wasn’t there in a cardboard car!
Tipton Medical Centre to Off Side mooring Wolverhampton
Ice!!! That hadn’t been factored into the plan for today!
Figure Skating
The alarm had been set, a full days cruise ahead of us, but we woke to Coots ice skating outside the boat. After breakfast Mick went to see how thick it was with a boat hook, too thick. Oh well, stand down everyone.
Filters ready for the next service
One job today was buying filters for the next engine service. So instead of picking them up as we cruised past Oxley Marine, Mick caught a train then a bus down to Autherley Junction just in case the boatyard there is closed tomorrow. The chaps said that they were always there and furnished Mick with all he wanted before returning back up to the Wolverhampton Level.
Bye bye Tipton
Not only did he return with filters but with news that at 132ft lower there was no ice, there was also no ice in Wolverhampton. By now the sun had worked it’s magic and melted the ice in Tipton too.
Next time
So after lunch we pushed off to get ourselves to the top of the locks ready for the morning. With a bit more time on our hands than originally planned we were disappointed that it was too late on a Friday to turn down the Bradley Arm. The C&RT Bradley Workshops are at the end there and needs to be open to provide enough room to wind, Fridays they knock off at 3pm, we wouldn’t get there in time. So that is one thing left on the list for next time.
The sun was out, warming everything. Bright blue skies, such a shame not to make the most of it going down the locks, but that’s boating for you.
The waterfall in Coseley Tunnel
Coseley Tunnel dripped at the northern end, buildings were being built. We tried to remember what this stretch was like when we first did it on NB Winding Down. Far more derelict factories and warehouses then.
It would make a fantastic set, not sure what for though
At Horseley Fields Junction we looked out for the old entrance to what is now Urban Moorings, a bricked up archway must have been where it was. The service mooring visible as we came past the junction, no need to do any washing today so we would cope with the ringroad noise for a night.
Was that the way in, now all bricked up
0 locks, 5.31 miles, 2lefts, 1 straight, 2 ice skaters, 2 oil filters, 1 fuel filter, 1 air filter, 2 buses, 2 trains, 1 sunny day, 1 pumpout tank taking root, 2 dabchicks, 1 sour dough starter ready for use, 1 more night on the plateau.
A slightly better photo
https://goo.gl/maps/VxaePMcfotKbP7a1A
Day 8.
One starter bubbling away waiting to be fed. The discard jar is now full. Bread and pancakes this weekend me thinks.
With our entrance tickets bought from the Dudley Canal Trust we walked up through the buildings towards the bus stop in the museum. Despite the time tabel suggesting there would be a bus every 15 minutes we decided to walk up the hill to the main entrance. We soon saw the bus and an old car bipping it’s horn at everyone it saw, both were heading to where we’d come from.
Beep beep!
First thing was to change our paper receipt for an annual pass. We can now visit as many times as we like for no extra cost. This may only end up being once more, but you never know.
Quick catch that bus!
It was a touch damp now outside so we caught the double decker back down the hill to have a walk round. We first visited the museum about eight years ago when we were moving our shareboat NB Winding Down down the country. We had a very good day, but wished we’d had longer. This time we’d go down the mine and have fish and chips!
Hobbs and Sons or the Chippy
Once the chippy opened we checked out the claims from the website. The claims were correct and we could place an order for later, but we were expecting company and had no idea what time we’d like our lunch, so we would risk there being a long queue.
Still fills up with petrol on the main road once a week
As midday got closer we caught the bus back up the hill to meet up with Marion (Mick’s sister) and John who were coming for a day trip from Eastbourne. As they had train tickets they could do the Days out two for one.
One of the houses
With winter hours being a little bit tight we chose to head back down the hill again, by bus to the thick of the buildings. There is a large area being redeveloped, if that’s what you can call it when the buildings will all be 1940’s to 60’s that already exist. Sadly this means the mine and funfair are closed at the moment.
Fires blazing away in kitchens
Lines of school kids zigzagged through the streets following their period dressed guides. Huddles of them stood in dimly lit shops listening to the proprietors talking about what they sold and what it would have been like there in the 20’s and 30’s, some even earlier.
The radio workshop kept John busy for a while and ladies sat in their kitchens kept warm by their ranges, no cooking going on today. A school mistress taught a class speaking very slowly and awarding two pupils a certificate.
The Gentleman’s Outfitters
The tailor didn’t have quite what John was after but was very well stocked with Peeky Blinder caps and waistcoats.
Mum’s chosen
brands
The tobacconists would have kept my Mum stocked up with her favourite brands and I’m sure my Dad would have found suitable tobacco to make his own mix from.
1920’s living room with fantastic wallpaper
A 1920’s living room with very smart fan wallpaper had a rug on the floor. I was asked why I thought there were two round marks on it. Was it because something had been placed there and the pile had flattened. No it was a fashion to have rugs which had a pattern, not in colour but in the texture, shag pile and short pile. I’d once aimed to shave one from some carpet for a show, but had run out of time.
Frying full time
By now we were a little bit peckish so joined the queue in Hobbs. Luckily it wasn’t too long, there’s a sign outside where you can sit to while away the half hour before getting served! Our orders were placed. 2 vegetarian, cooked in sunflower oil. 1 gluten free. 1 standard, everything cooked in beef dripping. We found a space to sit and wait, jumping whenever any of the ladies said anything. It didn’t take long, lashings of salt and vinegar were poured into the cones of paper. I have to say it’s the first time I’ve not noticed a difference with gluten free fish. The batter was wonderful and crisp with chunky cod inside. We all wolfed them up whilst inhaling the vinegar fumes.
They were very very good
Lower down on the site a chap demonstrated a beetle Demon and talked about the wallpaper trimming machine in the hardware shop.
Wallpaper was sold with edges that needed trimming, either with scissors or on one of these, at a cost!!
The greengrocers was manned by a lady who told us the history of the shop and the lady who’d run it whilst her husband was away in the 1st world war, he had to retrain when he got home as she wasn’t going to hand it back over to him.
Hardware shop front
The cinema sat silent awaiting the next showing. A chap hammered away in the dark of his workshop whilst it rained outside, presumably making nails.
Nail maker working away in the dark
We timed a visit to the more industrial end very well with a chain making demonstration about to happen. The metal was heated up to white hot, bent round and then bent further with a hammer. Linked to the previous link the ends were flattened and reheated. We were asked to move back, he them gave the two ends a very big whack to weld them together showering sparks. The link was then reshaped with the help of a hammer operated by his foot. The chain makers had to make so many links a day, 200 and something before they would get paid. For some it took six hours others a lot longer.
Chain making
We then took a walk up to the Workers Institute where a guided tour was due. The lady we’d seen in the schoolhouse was ready and waiting. Due to the rain we started off indoors. We were on a bit of a tight time frame due to return trains to the south coast, the lady imparted her knowledge, pointed out important people in the photographs, handed round photographs of chain makers, more photos of people, they just kept coming, was she going to give us the life history on everyone in the group photos?
So of it’s time
Time was ticking, there was still the tat in the shop to look at and still more photos were handed round. We made our excuses , did a quick flit up the stairs and back down as the tour were about to go that way. I’m sure the tour would have been very interesting, but we simply didn’t have the time.
They managed to get a better rate of pay through the unions
Up the hill in the rain for a purchase or two before heading back down to be through the bottom gates before they closed at 3:45pm. Time for a quick cuppa and warm up back at the boat before Marion and John headed off to return southwards. A very good day.
The Chemist waiting for customers
0 locks, 0 miles, 12 month passes, 40’s 50’s 60’s coming soon, 2 day trippers, 2 veggie of each, 1 gluten free of each, 1 full everything of each please, 1 school, 1 institute life time, 3 bus rides, 1 link, 0 horses, 17 radios, 1 rug, 1 cinema, 2 visitors, 1 living and breathing museum, 0 shore leave yet again!
Day 6, Morning
It’s been bubbling overnight and then deflated.
Day 6 Night
About three hours after feeding. There is hope of sour dough bread this weekend
With winds forecast to be over 40mph later today we aimed to get going, hopefully to miss the worst of it. Despite our aim we didn’t push off till 10am, would this give us enough time to moor up before the worst hit?
To the South
To the North
The sun was out, blue skies overhead as we pootled our way to the top of Rushall Locks. We could have moored above the locks last night but that wouldn’t have been half as good for Tilly. Signs on the outside of a building here tell you cruising times to both north and south. I think we’ve got plenty of time to get to York by mid July, via a lot of other places on the way.
Back to double gates
The bottom gates on the Rushall Flight are doubles, not singles as is common on most of the BCN. The top lock had a nice wide walkway over the top gate and a handy bridge at the bottom, but this wasn’t the case all the way down.
Eerrrk!
The top two locks are closish together and then only just visible in the distance was lock 3 over a straight mile away. The first stretch of the long pound was filled with reddened dead scum, a slight aroma wafting from it as we parted it around Oleanna’s hull.
I hopped off at Moat Bridge and walked to the next, Sutton Road Bridge, where I joined the road to visit the handy Co-op. Quite a few things I wanted had sad gits labels , so loaves of bread and tomatoes joined our Saturday newspaper in my basket.
Handy long bridge hole so you can go shopping
When I got back to the canal, Oleanna was taking shelter under the wide bridge. No other boat traffic so it didn’t matter that we were blocking the navigation.
Heading down, the rest of the flight through the bridge
Then the flight was upon us, some locks full others empty. We soon got into our rythmn I’d open up, then walk ahead to set the next lock whilst Mick brought Oleanna in above, closed the lock and lifted a bottom paddle. I’d be back in time to lift the second paddle and open the gates.
Mick bringing Oleanna down the lock above
I tried my usual trick of kicking the gates open, but decided that the gates looked too chunky, so reverted to walking round instead. If I remembered to drop the off side paddle then Mick could close it from below using the boat hook saving me crossing the gates again.
No anti vandal lock on the bottom paddle
Each paddle, bar one on the very bottom gate is locked with an anti-vandal mechanism which you get very used to around these parts, you just have to remember which pocket you put your handcuff key in to be able to unlock them!
The roofing felt may be new, but the wood underneath is showing that it’s been there 24 years
The lower down the flight we got the more and more spongy the walkways got on the gates. Underfelt is used as anti slip across these, but the surface below some of it was very rotten and decidedly wobbly, I made sure I always had hold of the hand rail should anything fail. One of the gates was allowing water to bubble up from the bottom cill, guaranteeing a quick descent.
At the bottom lock, new gates sealed both ends and with new walkways I was able to cross with confidence once again.
Urban Snake waiting to catch a prop
Straight on to Rushall Junction, well at a slight angle now, the wind was building. A very long urban snake sat waiting to catch us out where the stern needed to swing. If it hadn’t been so windy we’d most probably have stopped to pick it up, but instead the engine was taken out of gear at the last moment to let us glide past, then engaged again to force the bow round to the west. Time to cling onto possessions and boat hooks!
High on an embankment
The Tame Valley Canal sits high on an embankment and runs along the side of the M6 for a while to where the M5 joins it.
Loads of concrete
Roads intertwining high on concrete stilts, the River Tame curling it’s way slowly beneath.
Magnet fishing
Then once over the railway you are surrounded, the canal now in a cutting. A group were magnet fishing at one bridge, several items had been pulled out or just to the side. The chap said he was looking for mobile phones, so he’d most probably leave the trolleys where they had got dragged to.
Blimey it was windy, a touch more revs needed to keep us on our course, good job there are only a couple of moored boats about.
A rope swing distracted Mick at a bridge just for a second or two too long, the engine tone changed. A blast of reverse, still the same. Damn something round the prop. He managed to pull us almost in to the side and hopped off with a centre line. A spike was hammered in to help me keep hold of Oleanna against the wind whilst Mick delved into the murky waters of the weed hatch.
Quite Ghostly
The wind was tunneling it’s way along the canal and Oleanna’s bow was being forced across the cut. The spike was pulling out, should I just let go. No I clung on, forced the spike back into the ground. In a two second lull of wind I rearranged myself to stand on the rope once it was through the spike loop, then I could lean back remembering my windsurfing days when I was just a teenager. I lent back thinking of heavy things like lardy cakes all the time my arms gradually getting that little bit longer. Surely Mick must have finished by now!!!
A large wet something hit the deck, hopefully that was all there was going to be. My arms were now stinging like Alan’s in A Regular Little Houdini, then they burned, at least if I let go I wouldn’t end up feet first in a tunnel of mud with the tide coming in!
As soon as Mick stood up I called out to him and Oleanna was just pulled in enough for us to get back on again with a jump. Blimey my arms throbbed. We now just hoped that the mooring we were aiming for was free and sheltered enough to be able to moor up with an amount of ease.
Still a while to go before we got to Tame Valley Junction, we’d most certainly had enough by now. We turned left and I could see round through the hedge that there was space. Reversing in would be easier we hopped than winding as the entrance to the arm was at an acute angle.
Luck was with us, the wind had dropped. Mick brought us round and started to reverse and as he did so a gentle little breeze pushed the bow round to the right angle to clear the bridge at the entrance of the arm.
Now who can I find here?
Once tied up we could both breath again. A quick check round and the mooring was deemed suitable for Tilly. A late lunch was followed by a hair cut for Mick which was just interesting enough to bring Tilly out from the sideways trees to be picked up and returned inside just before dusk.
Thank you to Paul (Waterway Routes) we now know how many times the A5, Watling Street, crosses the navigable canal network. Fifteen times, more if you include the disused canals.
Cast Iron Roving Bridge to High Bridge, Old Main Line, BCN
The New Main Line straight
Our mooring in the city centre hadn’t been too noisy, just the comings and goings from the Arena and the Sunday morning runners pounding past. But we’ve been here long enough, time to move on and do some exploring. We currently have a plan which may change due to circumstances, so we’ll see how we do.
A Full stop would help this sign make better sence
We’d planned to explore the BCN a couple of years ago, but with temperatures soaring and a panto to design we opted out and headed for trees away from the city. Will we succeed this time? It’s winter and the temperature, at the moment, isn’t conducive to long days at the helm and may well mean we get iced in somewhere. We can take our time and keep a close eye on the weather.
The north entrance to the Soho Loop closed off
With padded trousers on we pushed off and headed north west along the New Main Line. We’ve been along this stretch a few times, but things change. Quite a lot of the graffiti has changed. Long lengths of wall have been painted black and artists and (in my opinion) none artists have made their marks. I like good graffiti and today some stuck out, the best being from Pulp Fiction with John Travolta and Samuel L Jackson pointing their guns at us as we left the city.
The Pink Panther
Pulp Fiction
As navigator around the BCN you have to keep on your toes as their are so many loops and dead ends. But I managed to keep us straight until we reached Smethwick Junction where we turned right to head up Smethwick Locks.
Smethwick Junction
Pulling in below the bottom of the three locks Mick had difficulty pulling Oleanna in. Was there something round the prop? Was the bottom too close to the top? She certainly didn’t want to do as requested, so it took a bit of back and forth. But this was just as well as I spied the bow of a boat coming into the bottom lock from above.
One coming down
I walked up and the chap was just opening up the second paddle to empty the lock, he walked back and climbed on the back of his boat, with only one gate to open at the bottom I could do this for him.
First Lock of the year
Mick brought Oleanna into the lock, our first of the year. She rose up and once I’d dropped the paddles Mick opened the gate and I walked up to the next lock leaving him to close up behind.
The sun cast long shadows, but I was glad of standing in the sunshine as out of it even my well insulated legs were getting cold. No turning down the Engine arm which crosses the New Main line here (link to Lillian’s trip down the arm) we carried straight on.
Entrance to the Engine Arm
We passed through the 103 yards of the Summit Tunnel and then the canal takes the same course as the M5 for a while.
Coming out of Summit Tunnel
The road busy overhead and covered in scaffolding. At Spon Lane Junction three locks take boats down onto the New Main Line, but we veered leftwards and continued under the motorway.
Stewarts Aqueduct
Passing over Stewart Aqueduct we were part of a criss cross of bridges. Below The new Main Line, then us on the aqueduct on the Old Main Line, the railway just ahead and soaring over the lot of us the M5.
The old bridge faring better than the M5
We continued to follow the M5 in the shade. Our route far older than the motorway overhead. Off to the left Oldbury Locks take a branch of the canal up to Titford Pools, but we continued straight on, passing a few moored boats on the off side and pulling in just short of High Bridge where there were bollards to moor to.
After tying up we stopped and had a quick check of the area. Numerous parked cars behind a fence that was bound to have gaps in it. A car sales place, loads of rubbish in amongst the trees and scrub, who knew what loitered there, possibly stuff that would be bad for a cat. Decision made Tilly would be grounded whilst we were here.
More M5
Whist we travel through urban areas we tend to have all the doors locked as a precaution. Unlocking the stern doors I was kack handed and Tilly saw a moment of opportunity and went for it! Damn!! NO sorry I’m busy! Too busy to talk to you! So much to do!She wouldn’t come, so I just followed her with the intention of a rugby tackle should the moment arise. Two crows came and shouted at her which helped, then a chap on the towpath also assisted by just existing. Time to head home! It’s just not safe enough to go to the loo round here.
It being a Sunday it was a touch too late to go to the nearby Sainsburys for a stock up shop. This did have it’s downside. We’d left the hustle and bustle of Birmingham and now found ourselves by a car dealership who blast out a local radio station for all the world to hear.
They’d close soon, it’s Sunday.
Mick went into their reception and was told that they’d close at 5pm and the music would go off then starting again at 8.30am. That was bearable.
6pm came. It hadn’t stopped. I think we were now upto date with chart music. It continued. A phone call to them, just to check it wouldn’t be going all night. No it would stop in about an hour.
At 7.30pm finally the thumping noise ceased, we let out a cheer. Thank goodness, but what time will it start again in the morning?
Tardebigge Top Lock to Cast Iron Roving Bridge, Birmingham, BCN
Out in Vienna it was time to pack my bags. One thing left to do, visit the cheese shop on Langegasse that I’ve been walking past and inhaling for the last ten days.
Yummy Jumi
Many cheeses in this shop are kept in cabinets for safety, our safety. Many of the cheeses in this shop look like given half a chance they would take over the world with only Dr Who capable of stopping them. With so much to choose from and a taxi booked I couldn’t sample too many, which maybe was a good thing.
Bombs, brains
I’m not too fond of Emmental or Gruyere so that immediately ruled out half of the shop. The chap helped me and gave me a couple of samples. I like goats cheese, but in Britain you don’t often get a hard goats cheese. So as I was in Austria I had to have one from the mountains, ‘High on a hill lived a lonely goatherd’. It was tasty, sold.
Cheese!!!!
Then a softer cheese. No chance to taste this one as they are individual cheeses that have a whole culture of their own. Sold! The chap vacuum wrapped them for me so that my bag wouldn’t be making it’s own way back to the UK.
Heading for home
My taxi was early, the driver arriving just as I checked out and was asking where to wait. Soon I was whisked out to the airport to await a delayed first flight to Munich.
Sadly not available in Mick’s size
I’d booked a window seat, but at the gate I was issued with a new seat in the middle! This was a shame as there were fantastic views over the Austrian Alps, not much snow though!
Alps
Meanwhile back in Birmingham.
Mick and Tilly have been avoiding storm Brendon. On Monday once Chris had left to visit more boat builders Mick filled the water tank and headed northwards again. Passing NB Sola Gratia, under the M42 he chose a suitable place without trees to spend Monday night by Bridge 68.
Tuesday they decided to head into Birmingham setting off early to beat the weather. At 9am they reached the southern portal of Wast Hill Tunnel. The interior of Oleanna already in full tunnel mode, hoping that with all the lights being on this would keep Tilly from fretting. I suspect he just timed their passage well and she was busy having her morning snooze as he could hear no shouting at the back doors.
A mile and a half later they came back out into daylight. But what lay ahead?
Out the northern portal
There was a boat up against the towpath, pinned in my a fallen tree. Had the tree fallen onto the boat? Mick was about to try to nudge his way through when the owner came out. Last night he’d tried to do the same, but got stuck. Whether he was grounded or just held by the tree Mick didn’t know, but one thing was certain Mick was now stuck too!
One stuck boat with tree attached
The other boater had rung to report it to C&RT, another phone call wouldn’t hurt after all Mick had nowhere to go. He couldn’t get into the side so was just having to sit in the middle. Apparently C&RT staff were on route to access the situation.
Fountains arrive with long chainsaws
Then the C&RT staff got held up by traffic so the contractors were called and sent anyway. They arrived with long handled chain saws and proceeded to climb onto the roof of the stuck boat. Helmets, high-vis but no life jackets! The roof of the boat was wet and had no grabrail or anything should they slip to stop them. They chopped and chopped away at the tree. Soon the trapped boat was free.
On the bow
Mick offered the bow of Oleanna as a platform to carry on working from, then they moved to the stern to clear more. At last Mick and Oleanna could continue on their journey into Birmingham. The 8.5 miles had taken around 7.5 hours and Mick had got a touch wet in the process.
and on the
Stern
Location is always important. So I insisted on some greenery in the BUMingham outside. Tom obliged and tied up the one with short sideways trees. Thank goodness it wasn’t just bricks again!
So back in Munich.
I should have had an hour and a half waiting for my next flight. There were things to do, look at the shops and restaurants, then eat the quinoa salad I’d brought with me from Vienna. The new (well to me new) passport control had to be cleared, this I am now a dab hand at after being rejected on my outbound flight. Hold your passport down on the screen with your hand so that it can be read!
Long corridors
I headed to the gate, not quite at the furthest point of the airport, but almost. Staff arrived, then announced that there was a delay. This extended and we finally were allowed through the boarding gate as our plane should have been pushed back. There was no plane, just a bus to take us out to our Star Alliance A319-100, here we crossed the tarmac and climbed the steps to find our seats.
Climbing on board
With everyone on board we taxied round to run up along the side of the runway. The pilot swung us round onto the tarmac, would this be a rolling start? We tootled along for a little while straightening, then the engines roared up and the wheels began to speed up. Time to say goodbye to Europe….
Except the engine soon powered down! There had only been a short blast of throttle, now we were trundling along the runway. An air hostess quickly came on the tannoy and said that an announcement would be made shortly by the captain as to why we hadn’t taken off. They don’t use the term abandoned as this might cause alarm!
Once we’d turned off the runway the Captain spoke to us, something about the engines not being in sink, I’m not sure what he was saying as a group of English men were too busy joking with each other about finding the nearest underware shop! One thing we did all hear though was that he was going to go round and try to take off again.
This time we headed further up the runway, turned to face the tarmac and stopped. The engines roared and we set off, so far so good, we’d made it further than last time. Bye Europe… as the wheels lifted off the ground this time. Phew!! I had wondered if we’d have to change planes, be diverted to another UK airport, but thankfully we were on our way.
The sun soon set on the horizon turning the sky orange. After an hour and something the coast of main land Europe showed, lights twinkling below. Clouds covered the English coast, just the occasional glimpse confirmed we were over land again.
With half an hour to go we started to descend, the lower we got the bumpier it got. Bumpier and bumpier. The bumpyness kept on coming. We seemed to be getting lower, but would we be sent round again by air traffic control. There were a lot of houses getting closer, surely we must be about at the end of the run way!
As the runway lights came into view the plane crabbed it’s way towards the ground, was this still Storm Brendan? One wheel down, then the other, both now on the tarmac going slightly diagonally. As soon as the engines stopped their furious noise a round of aplause filled the plane, followed by more comments about underwear shops.
Birmingham and canals
Only about half an hour late, I sailed through biometric passport control, my bag was about the tenth to appear on the conveyor. The cheese in my bag kept quiet so I exited arrivals through the green customes doors to see Mick stood holding his phone with my name flashing away in red, just in case I’d forgotten what he looked like!
Very posh first night present from the Viennese Producers
0 locks, 14.16 miles, 1 wind, 2 much wind, 1 tree, 1 wet boater, 2 chain saws, £20 on cheese, 2 vacuum bags for safety, 1 taxi, 2 planes, 2 trains, 3 shuttles, 1 walk, 271 head nudges with Tilly, 16 very posh first night chocolates.
