North By North East. 28th July

Retford and Worksop Boat Club

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

Phoebe Anna Traquair. 27th July

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club

Cricket, the last Tour on free TV, end of the world haircuts, unicorn/uniform, and Alasdair’s under croft were this mornings subjects. Everyone was present and the screen was rather full as Mick is still in Scarborough ready to do a turn around.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

Between Bitterns And Beavers. 26th July

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club

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.

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?

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 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.

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.

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.

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!

Fish Finger Nerds. 25th July

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Retford and Worksop Boat Club

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.

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 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.

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.

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!

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.

Escorted. 24th July

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Drakeholes Visitor Mooring to Retford and Worksop Boating Club

Cycling and cricket to keep up to date with, so a slow start with Mick sat in front of the TV with his breakfast. Tilly was given a couple of hours, then once she was back inside and just about everything caught up with we were ready to be on the move again.

There was a white covering on the water when we’d arrived yesterday, now a white powder was dusted over Oleanna, she may get a sluice down with canal water in the next day or two. Today, willows leant into the canal, I’m sure Mick will have had to limbo under them.

**Good to see the canal is at it’s normal level**

I’d considered cutting corners on my walk through villages along our way, but I decided to keep that for the way back downstream, but then I might actually decide to be on the boat coming back. I passed a couple of chaps sat on a bench, their pace was much slower than mine, but they’d catch up with me later.

C&RT work boats sat round a bend where new piling and back filling has been happening. The swans round here must have healthy appetites!

After nearly an hour I arrived under the bridge at Retford and Worksop Boat Club. Here I had a sit down to wait for Oleanna and a chance to catch up on some blog reading, Sue you hadn’t mentioned about your submersion in your email! Hope the bruises are fading.

Some chaps came along, one had to be Dave this week’s warden. I introduced myself and found out where our mooring would be for the next few days, he’d be along later to sort out power for us.

The local swan family came to say hello, nine cygnets! We seem to be seeing far larger broods reaching adult size this year. As Mick brought Oleanna round under the bridge they escorted her round to the service mooring.

A top up of fresh water and disposal of the yellow required. We managed to get the water tank filling, but failed with the yellow water, the swans were adamant that we’d give them some bread and intimidated the undoing of the cap on the off side gunnel! I tried to distract them to the stern, but as soon as Micks hand appeared out through the bathroom porthole they’d turn back towards him. We’d try later, anyway the two walkers were now sat having their pack up and it would have been rude to share the yellow water aroma with them.

A good chat with the chaps, how far we could travel, they like walking the canals. Once they’d hired a boat on the broads, but apparently they got pulled over by the police for speeding!

Dave had given us options on moorings. We’d opted for the end one, furthest away from the road for Tilly. Gaps along the way would have had us nose to tail with other boats, but at the end we had space to breath, a picnic table, ripe blackberries and a view over a golden field. The swans soon got bored with us, so we could complete our chores and then once we were plugged in we were short of nothing we’ve got.

0 locks, 3.4 miles, 1 boater up to date on cycling, 2 cricket matches, 59 brisk minutes, 2 swans, 9 cygnets, 1 mooring, 1 boat hooked up, 1 load washing, 4 hours shore leave, 1 Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

https://what3words.com/hillsides.hobbies.needed

Fairies Footpath. 23rd July

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Log Rural Mooring to Drakeholes Visitor Mooring

Some shore leave was granted first thing, then after breakfast and once Tilly had returned the doors were firmly closed. We’re not moving fast along the Chesterfield, well you can’t move fast anyway, but for the next few days we’ve only small distances to travel.

As we rolled up the covers the boat in front of us was making ready to push off too. They’d been moored at Drakeholes yesterday morning, our aimed for destination today. Mick checked the weed hatch…. weed! Quite expected on the Chesterfield. If the levels don’t defeat us getting to the top the weed at this time of the year might do. Having a separate weed hatch, which is isolated from the engine bay, means that Mick can leave the plate that sits over the prop loose as it may need to be opened up several times a day. On a more usual weed hatch this is not a good idea and the plate/lid most definitely needs screwing down securely otherwise you will sink your boat once the prop starts to move.

I walked ahead the half mile to Shaw Lock. The chamber was empty and dry, Oleanna rose up, the bywash being stopped as the lock filled. The top gates didn’t want to stay put so I loitered to make sure they did, we need to conserve as much water as we can this summer.

Another walk on to Gringley Lock. The chamber empty and lovely flowers alongside the lock cottage. Oleanna was lagging some way behind so I had chance to read an information board. The lock was supervised by William Antcliffe for 34 years, every Saturday he would walk to Drakeholes to collect his wages, meandering his way back much later, this suggests he visited a water hole! Possibly The White Swan which became The Mucky Duck, which sadly closed earlier this year.

Above the keystone on the bridge it says W & GN 1830. I’ve hunted round on the internet to see what this might be. I’ve found mention in an interesting article that it most probably refers to George and William Newton two yeoman farmers in Gringley, they were possibly responsible for this bridge which replaced a swing bridge.

Back in August 2016 when we came down this lock we were joined by another boat. The throttle cable failed as the boat entered the lock and instead of going into reverse it sped up crashing into the bottom gates!

I opened the top gate to let Oleanna out a big branch had been in the way, it now was doing it’s best to enter the lock. I hauled it out with a boat hook, Oleanna exited then I went to close the gate. Could I get that gate to close? Could I heck!! Maybe loosing weight isn’t going to serve me well with big lock gates, the extra ballast having been handy in such situations. Mick hadn’t got too far so he came to add extra weight and we got it moving again.

I carried on walking, arranging for a lift when we reached Drakeholes Tunnel.

Crops stood in the fields, golden.

A pink flower here and there on the towpath. I’d remembered the Meadowsweet nine years ago but not this. I checked it with my app. Wild Morning Glory (Bind Weed, but it’s not quite such fairy like name). A bit further along a few more, then more and more!

My photo doesn’t really do it justice, but the towpath looked like a fairy had scattered flowers along its length, so pretty. I’ve always referred to the top end of the Chesterfield as a fairy wood, but they seem to be further down now too.

Blackberries are ripening in the hedgerows. I must start to carry a container or a bag to pick them whilst Oleanna catches me up. Some of them were really huge today and so sweet.

I passed a chap watching dragonflies in the reeds. The canal was so clear it brought back memories of when Frank was with us spotting giant fish. The shape of the canal bed very clear, covered in lettuce. A boat came towards me, the water would now be cloudy.

As the towpath turns a right angle towards Drakeholes Tunnel there was a rustic fence, planks held up on chunky branches, then a little gate made with twigs. More fairies.

I sat and waited for Oleanna and my lift through the tunnel. Time to catch up with Frank, no answer. Time to turn down the offer from a friend of more sock yarn, my bottom drawer is still really rather full of it.

Through Drakeholes our first tunnel of the year! All 154 yards of it. It’ll be our second tunnel too, but will it end up being our last one of 2025?

Round the steep bend we pulled in between two boats. This would do us for the day. A late lunch for us and four hours shore leave for Tilly. I knitted and Mick watched the cycling and cricket. A couple of boats came past, one pulling up behind us with two big dogs on the stern. Mick walked up to chat to them as Tilly was out, but it was dingding time. The Huskies were put inside and I did my very best mad cat woman. I got a response from the tall grasses in the field meaning Tilly came pretty quickly. Popping out from the friendly cover just after the chap on the boat had said something about how aloof cats can be. Excuse me, I always come when called. It’s just that sometimes it takes me a couple of hours to make the journey! Once she was inside the woofers could have their towpath freedom.

2 locks, 3.1 miles, 1 weed hatch visit, 6 moving boats, 1 slow cruise, 1stone 11 lbs too light, 2 outsides, 16524899765 fairy flowers, 1 fairy gate, 51 brisk minutes, 1 sock might need frogging, 3 juicy blackberries, 1 Frank catch up, 1 big vat of dhal and 4 onion bhajis.

https://what3words.com/dives.wizard.importers

I’ll Race You! 22nd July

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Basin Bridge to Rural Log 2 day Mooring, CHesterfield Canal.

A dry morning even if it was quite grey. Tilly had some shore leave, by the time she came we’d had our breakfast and started to get ready for the off. Our supplies required a stock up so we pootled up along the canal to find the bollards we both remembered where no overnight mooring is allowed, but the mooring is handily positioned for the shops.

The first bollards were not the one’s we were thinking of, they were a lock landing. Yes we could pull back a touch, but maybe where we were thinking of was above the two locks. The key of power and a windlass was requested and I went ahead to set the bottom lock.

Signs on the lock gates ask to not let swans into the lock. Above were a Mum and Dad with three cygnets, were these the ones being referred to? They had to be. Not much room for them between the two locks, but they seemed content enough.

As Oleanna got to a point where Mick could get off I signalled that I was going to walk ahead to set the next lock. A nod from Mick to agree, I walked ahead. The next chamber was just about empty just a small amount of water needed adjusting to level it with the pound below. I then opened the gate and waited for Mick to bring Oleanna out of the lock below and close up behind.

Mum and the kids were heading my way, slowly but surely. I closed the gate and would only open it when Oleanna got close, we know how sneaky swans can be getting into locks and then being obstinate about getting out again. The plan worked well and we rose with no swans. Above another swan family came along to meet us. This is why the signs were on the lock gates, two families living close together, best to keep them apart for all concerned.

An M on our map, we pulled in, still not the location of bollards we’d remembered. We headed for the shops. Now to visit the butchers or not? If we did we’d have to buy some lamb steaks for Misterton Lamb, but that requires the oven to be on for an hour, not really the right thing to do on a warm summers evening. We’ll hope for a cooler day on the way back.

Our cruising plans a little bit up in the air, a possible rendez vous and a meeting with panto set builders on the cards. How far should we carry on up the Chesterfield? Do we need to do a sprint to better rail connections. As we shopped an email arrived assisting with decisions. The rendez vous sadly won’t be happening due to water levels and family commitments, maybe if water levels improve in a month or two we’ll be able to meet up. The set building meeting, the builders not able to do the first available date, so we’ve another two weeks to get to better transport links. Maybe we should see how far we can get up the Chesterfield, take Oleanna onto new waters?

After lunch we planned our mooring for the day. We untied and then ‘I’ll race you!’. Me on foot and Mick and Tilly bringing Oleanna. I gave them a couple of feet head start, but knew who’d win. Apart from our little trip up the Chesterfield in April we’ve been on rivers or big wide deep canals. Oleanna able to swim along far faster then I could walk. Here the canal is narrow, despite it’s wide locks (at the moment), the depth is shallow. Trying to use extra revs just slows you down, so a steady speed is required, my steady brisk speed is much quicker.

We soon came across the bollards we’d been thinking of. Only two, closely spaced, serious innies to moor there.

Back in April I walked ahead looking for a mooring for us before the next winding hole. Back then I could see over the reeds, today there was no sign of any of the places we’d tried to moor, the undergrowth now over my head in most places.

At the winding hole I carried on walking, after the next bridge I started to recall places along the canal, a bit hazy now as it was nine years ago on NB Lillyanne.

On the offside an industrial area, piles of stuff, a couple of old chimneys, wagons, decaying portacabins. Under a tree sat two figures, they’ve been there a long time, their clothing decaying around their bones.

Huge sheets of piling stood up from the earth, part painted rusty white, a marina under construction, it’s been like that for quite a while!

Fields golden, if a bit soggy were soon followed by straw rolos. The plants at the waterside interesting. Somehow, now away from the waterways with the big skies there are more minute things to look at, slowing my progress slightly.

Up ahead I could see where we wanted to moor, two boats already in residence. I paced out the gap, plenty of room for us. A glance at the Nebo app and I could see where Oleanna was. I stood for a good ten minutes waiting her arrival. Something kept us from getting into the side, but we coped and tied off, the back doors flung open for Tilly.

This was a good mooring when we stopped here before. Tilly ended up staying out late! That was in the days before stamps of approval were awarded at moorings, today one was certain to be pawed out.

Time was spent being a theatrical landlady, sorting out the next arrivals and departures in Scarborough. A mooring for Oleanna was sought and achieved. Theatrical digs needed extra confirmation for myself for panto, landladies and admin staff getting their wires crossed. No time left for much else in the day.

2 locks, 3.3 miles, 59 minutes brisk walking, 1 box wine, 1 red pepper, 6 bananas, 3 lodgers sorted, 1 mooring obtained, 1 small double room just fine, 2 extra weeks to cruise, 1 rendez vous postponed, 2 salmon fillets, 1 big fat Mrs Tilly stamp of approval.

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Soggy Southbound. 21st July

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Keadby Visitor Moorings to West Stockwith Basin Bridge

Not the best nights sleep sadly. I was aware of all sorts, but had finally managed to drift off by the time the put put of NB Delhi and Python came past heading for the bridge, it was still cool enough for them to go through at around 6am. In fact it was still 15C mid morning as NB Puddle Duck appeared and pulled in on the off side.

Over the last few days we’ve had a chat with the Lock Keeper at Keadby. Mark moving our booking every day to the next one and saying he’d inform West Stockwith of the change due to being held up at Vazon. Today we confirmed our booking for today and then called West Stockwith to confirm with them too.

The cruisers all moved up to the bollards so they could sit out together, we nudged up to the waterpoint to top up our tank. Items were moved into the shower to have a clear well deck, then an early lunch, just as well as the Lock Keeper called saying he thought the tide would be early. There was a boat just about to come up the lock, so could we be ready for when he opened the road bridge for them.

Final checks, life jackets, charts, etc. We were ready for when the bridge opened and swapped places with the boat. The tide was on it’s way in already, the bottom gates of the lock opened at 13:55. Originally we’d been told we’d be sharing the lock with a widebeam, but they’d not shown up, maybe stuck behind a stoppage on the Aire and Calder. So we were on our own, no buddy boat out on the river until the cruisers caught us up.

With low amounts of fresh coming down the river we had to be very cautious about following the red line. A week or so ago a boat heading for Keadby Lock hadn’t crossed over the river towards the east bank and had found themselves stuck on a sand bank until the next incoming tide lifted them off.

This is the third time we’ve done the tidal Trent this year and most sights are now very familiar.

The few bridges, the old windmills now converted into houses.

The cheeky pigeons. Owston Ferry’s two pubs.

With each turn of the river the skies gradually worked themselves from being quite blue, sun cream required when we set off, to being very grey almost black. Thankfully the river seemed to be doing a good job at turning us away from the really dark clouds. I kept quiet about it, hoping it would stay dry until we were moored up for the day. Mick however had to open his big mouth! ‘It’s going to rain!’ So it did!

We were making good progress and as we rounded the bend at Gunthorpe Mick radioed ahead to West Stockwith. I think we were going to be earlier than they’d expected, so they’d get the lock ready for us. Would we like a bow line to help us into the lock? Mick was fairly sure we’d be okay without, not really understanding what help it would be. As the radio was put down we both reached for our waterproofs as the rain started to persist. I could stand with my back to it, Mick couldn’t!

When to move through the boat to the bow? I opted to wait for us to have entered the lock. The rain was now going sideways as the white house appeared beyond the lock. When was Mick going to turn us to face the flow? We’ve not approached West Stockwith from downstream before, it makes for a tighter turn in.

He started to turn as we got close to the lock. The lock is on a bend in the river so getting turned needed to happen before the bank got too close. Would he need a nudge from the bow thruster, he’d changed the fuse this morning. Round we came. Now when to start the turn into the lock. We drifted backwards. The turn in needing revs to get the stern round enough so as not to catch the upstream side of the lock mouth, not too much to end up hitting the downstream side with the bow.

One man and his boat. He brought her round without touching any side, getting a big thumbs up from the Lockie. It was now safe to go through the boat to grab a rope before they started to bring us up.

The rain was now torrential! Water running in rivers down inside waterproof sleeves. Trousers proving just how many litres of water they could soak up. Crutch straps from life jackets doing a good job of directing water to help soak into your underwear. Oleanna rose up, we thanked the lock keepers, but didn’t hang around for a chat. Instead we headed straight through the bridge and pulled in on the first bit of armco.

But where was the nappy pin? Not been used since early April at this mooring. I managed to find a chain in amongst items in the shower and succeeded in not drenching our bed as I went past it twice. The towpath was it’s own canal, three inches deep, squelchy shoes would now fill up.

Tied up we both stripped down to our t-shirt and pants, wet items hung to drip dry under the pram hood. A warm shower each and dry clothes all welcome as the sun came back out and Tilly busied herself down the bank.

I could make us some dhal, or we could head to the White Hart for some food. The later option won. I checked the blog post from nearly two years ago when we’d last eaten here. We’d had to wait quite a while to be served, but the food had been worth the wait. Today they had a table of 25 in for a 40th, we’d have to wait. Thankfully it was worth it again. We both opted for the same as we’d had last time, Fish and chips and the steak and ale pie which is most definitely home made. Very nice indeed. We opted to return back to Oleanna for our second glass of wine, well we had to celebrate finally starting to make our way southwards.

2 locks, 13.9 miles, 1 wind, 1 full water tank, 2 hours to Stockwith, 4 cruisers 30 minutes behind, 1 lovely cruise, last 20 minutes not so, 2 sodden to their pants boaters, 1 hour shore leave made the most of, 18 minutes brisk walk to the pub and back, 1 fish and chips, 1 pie and chips, 1 boat finally headed south.

https://what3words.com/upcoming.producers.quilt

23:58 20th July

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Just tucked up in bed, reading, my phone rang, Vazon Bridge! This was it the call we’d been waiting for!

Bottom half of pyjamas replaced by trousers, socks shoes, maybe even a jumper, it should be a touch chilly out! I’d said to Nick or was it Neil the Signal Keeper we’d be ten fifteen minutes, but I think we were closer to four. Covers were being rolled up and dropped in the dark, extra care stepping on and off the boat, we’d had a couple of glasses of wine.

Across the way the crews from the four cruisers hurried from the back boat, a boozy evening had been being had. They didn’t have quite so much to prepare as us. The chap on NB Phoenix Lady was making ready too. I had a key of power, but was beaten to the manual bridge by a lady from the cruisers. By now the sirens from the bridge were sounding and the big railway bridge was sliding out of the way. A boat headlight could be seen making it’s way towards us. I shouted across to the lady at the bridge, there would be at least three boats coming through maybe five or six. She relayed this to the skippers who were starting to push off, they pulled themselves back in as the first boat came through.

**Bridge swung and a boat coming through**

I pushed the bow out, but being so close to the bridge structure it needed some help, a blast of bow thruster to get us round. I called back to Mick that we needed more, only to be told the bow thruster fuse had blown. A little patience for the bow to fully come round and we were on our way the lead eastbound boat.

It must have been a good long window between trains, Nick/Neil peered over the top of his control panel as we came through. There may have been light at the bridge, but once through we were glaring into the dark, headlight and nav lights lit, but still. By the way it’s the first time we’ve had chance to use our new tunnel light, it worked.

I stayed at the bow, close to the pointy end and relayed what I could see back to Mick. The glint of two eyes on the towpath, they blinked at the bright lights coming towards them, then turned and ran off along the path, a fox maybe, too big for a cat.

There’s the big signs about overhead cables. There’s the spillway with a white sign next to it, Mick could just make this out. Did we want to pull in at this end of the moorings? Yes. We slowed our pace, then stepped off cautiously. Looking behind us the following boats followed suit despite there being a big gap in front of us. One boat came round and pulled in further ahead, the others opting to bang spikes in behind on the grassy bank.

I walked down to see if there was any sign of life on NB Delhi or NB Python, all silent, tucked up for the night. Their last post of the day saying how they’d be up early hoping the temperature would be in their favour. No point in tapping on the cabin side.

**Now on the side of southern possibilities**

The chap on the cruiser in front of us said they’d not been expecting the call so soon. They’d heard that there had been a power failure at the bridge, and that there had been some doubt as to whether the back up generators would have enough umph to move the bridge. The crews had moved onto the Rum and Brandy! Four boats out for two weeks from Great Heck on a pub crawl to Nottingham, if they make it that far!

Time to tuck ourselves back up in bed. The excitement of getting through the bridge needed to wain. Three nights of waiting and now we are through, we can now say that we’re southbound! Here’s hoping there’s enough water to keep us heading in that direction!

0 locks, 0.5 miles, 1 bridge swung, 1 bridge slid, 3 westbound boats, 6 east bound boats, 2 dormant boats, 15 crew in the dark, 2 eyes, 1 excited cat, 0 shore leave at this time of night Tilly, 1 boat able to carry on it’s way ~~tomorrow~~ later today.

no idea!

who cares!

https://what3words.com/personal.freshest.digestion

Waiting Day (3). 20th July

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Vazon Sliding Bridge

Awake early again, just in case. Mick went to see the Signal Keeper, the lady from NB Early Rise was there having a chat. The temperature wasn’t low enough. The keeper would be on again tonight, he had our numbers and would call should the temperature of the bridge reach 15C. Back in bed we snoozed some more.

I’d bought some bacon the other day to go in the quiche so the rest of that needed eating up, it was accompanied by the usual items and very nice it was too. Topics on the Geraghty zoom this morning included Rain, ‘Enry’s goats, singing bathrooms, Hamilton and Mole Hill Woman Lucky Dips.

**The cat doesn’t seem to work so we’ve resorted to fly paper, but that doesn’t seem to work either!**

With more rain forecast for the afternoon I headed out on my walk. Across the manual swing bridge, Reece in the signal box pressed the button to lift the barriers at the level crossing and on I walked between power stations. The first Keadby Power Station was built in the late 1940’s originally coal fired, the coal being transported by road and rail, but not by canal. The power station was so far out of town that accommodation needed to be provided, half the work force moved to Keadby.

At the main road I turned northwards to see how far the village continued, not very far, but there was an interesting information board. After WW2, still during rationing, everyone was allowed to keep a pig but they had to declare it and hand over their rations in return for bacon. Most people kept a pig, but didn’t hand over their rations. The locals were alarmed to hear that someone from the Ministry of Food was coming to check who owned what livestock in the village. The local bridge man was put on look out duty. When the official arrived the pub was called and everyone went home to let their pigs out, they were roaming all over the village.

The official could see the pigs and styes in gardens but didn’t know who owned which pig. When asked the locals just shrugged their shoulders, so the official was none the wiser and caught the train back to London. Another phone call was made and the villagers busied themselves reclaiming their pigs.

By the services were two new boats. NB Delhi and NB Python the Chesterfield Canal boat, they had come from West Stockwith yesterday and are on a working party trip up to Sheffield. They spent the day with a big team of people tidying up around Keadby Lock and also inside it. This included dropping down in the lock and weeding the outer walls onto the river. Tomorrow their aim is to tidy up around Thorne Services, if they can get there. What a brilliant thing to be doing even if it meant they got really quite wet in the process!

I selected yarn for the next pair of ‘Jazzy’ socks and then sat down to weave the ends in on the previous pair. This is better done during daylight hours despite it being very grey outside with patches of torrential rain. As we watched a program about Sycamore Gap we heard some noises. We looked up a cruiser was arriving followed by a second one. Someone hopped off and opened the manual swing bridge. Mick opened the hatch to check they knew the railway bridge wasn’t working. It felt like they did and were going to moor in between the bridges until it opened, but once they realised we and the boat behind were also waiting they pulled back and moored on the other side. There were now four cruisers all out on a fortnights trip from Great Heck.

The BBC, our weather app on phones, Windy were all checked. If there was to be a night where the temperature dropped enough then tonight must surely be it. In fact it might be that we’d not have to wait until the early hours, maybe midnight, maybe 1am. We’d considered getting all the boaters together, everyone wrapping up in as many layers as possible and standing outside the signal box doing our best to persuade Network Rail that the temperature was really cold.

We had a beer, our evening meal with a glass or two of wine. My phone fully charged we headed to bed. Would we get a call?

0 locks, 0 miles, 43 brisk minutes, 2 more boats, 4 more boats, 11 waiting boats, 1 work party, 1 very smart lock, 2 many annoying flies, 1 cat lacking in her duties, pair 101 finished, pair 102 cast on, 1 soggy WET day.

Narrowboat Oleanna

Travels of Narrowboat Oleanna

North By North East. 28th July

Phoebe Anna Traquair. 27th July

Between Bitterns And Beavers. 26th July

Fish Finger Nerds. 25th July

Escorted. 24th July

Fairies Footpath. 23rd July

I’ll Race You! 22nd July

Soggy Southbound. 21st July

23:58 20th July

Waiting Day (3). 20th July