The Meanderings of Narrowboat Avon Rose

Job Done!!!

2012-01-31T15:45:00.000Z

"Who is this motley crew waving paint brushes?" you enquire. "Is that the Old Boater in the middle?" You are not wrong. There he is with Herself (on the left) and Vicki; the stalwarts of the BW Bath Monthly (4th Thursday) Working Party. Our BW Leader, Rob Labus, being behind the camera (his phone actually). In the winter, when the weather is bad, what better place to work than inside a tunnel. So here we are at Sidney Tunnel on the K&A in Bath having just completed the repainting of the handrails, and lovely they look.

BW (British Waterways) becomes the "Canal and Rivers Trust" in April and, with this change to a charitable trust, it is looking to recruit more volunteers to help with maintaining and running the waterways, modelling itself on the National Trust. Himself will be out on the Bath locks at the beginning of April, when the cruising season starts in earnest, performing his duties as a Volunteer Lock Keeper. In the meantime it's been a couple of trips to BW's Devizes office to complete the mandatory health and safety courses. But before then we have our week's cruise on the Lancaster Canal to look forward to.

New Year, New ?????

2012-01-02T23:24:00.001Z

"What you doing now?" You guessed it. Herself is getting ratty because his head is bowed over the keyboard again instead of doing something "useful". What something useful is, he has not yet determined. "So what has the old boater been doing in the last six months" you enquire. Enjoying the delights of the beautiful city of Bath is the truth of it. Previously we have always been here in the winter months, so it has been a delight to enjoy the summer and all that goes on in the height of the tourist season. Also time and energy has been spent on making a new printed edition of "The Meanderings of Avon Rose" based on these blogs but with footnotes and appendices explaining the technicalites of boating and bell ringing for the general reader. It's a great read they tell me. See a preview here and, go on, spoil yourself and buy one.

Explore, Dream, Discover The Meanderings of Avon Rose by Mike Amphlett | Make Your Own Book

Waterway life has not been neglected either. Theirselves continue as volunteers with British Waterways in Bath. On the monthly working party we have cleared vegetation, painted and even learnt the skills of repointing stonework with lime mortar. During the autumnal showers, painting the railings inside Sidney Tunnel has kept us occupied.

Himself has been sharing duties with two others as volunteer lock keepers on the Bath flight; working alongside Nigel, the full-time lock keeper, by providing assisting boaters in working the locks and providing local information.

"So; what plans for a new boat?" you enquire. "Well," Himself replies, "as our noble Towermaster at the Abbey is fond of saying,'Any Plan is a Basis for Change'." Herself has pointed out that the canals we have yet to explore lie on the fringes of the network. If we buy into a new shared boat, we are going to be moored at one of the more popular cruising centers. Solution, let's hire on the waterways we want to explore and put the new boat plan on hold. Enter stage left friends Steve and Lesley (our biker boating buddies) with the expected question, "When are we going boating then?"
"We haven't done the Lancaster," Herself pipes up and .....

Himself has been in contact with the lovely Karen from Canal Boat Escapes and we have secured the use of trad narrowboat Green Man for the last week of March from its base at Pendle Marine. Keep a lookout. We'll let you know how it goes.

Footnote

2011-06-26T13:09:00.003+01:00

A dull damp day and the suggestion of a tear in the corner of the eye. We have come to Stowe Hill Wharf to remove the last odds and ends of our belongings from Avon Rose. An offer has been made. The out of water survey has been completed. The bill of sale has been signed. When the money appears in our account she will no longer be ours. We understand she is off to a new home at Heyford Fields Marina,just a few miles down the cut. Shake hands with Dominic and Steve and we wave a last fond farewell as we head off for a lunch by the cut at "The Wharf" at Bugbrooke. There are many fond memories and.......... no regrets.

We have settled into life ashore in Bath. We enjoy our monthly BW volunteers' working party on the Widcombe flight, clearing vegetation, painting lock gates and canal gear. Himself on track to start as a voluntary lock-keeper in July. The canal life has not been totally left behind. And yesterday a phone call from Chris of Carefree Cruising in Cheshire. "You spoke to us in April about shared ownership in a narrowboat. Are you still interested?" Silly question...........

............to be continued - next year - keep a lookout.

The end or a new beginning????

2011-05-07T20:08:00.002+01:00

When you see himself, iron in hand, you know our pair have fully adopted this new lifestyle. He may still have that long haired hippy boater air but we now have a pair of city slickers. Well, perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration. No one would ever regard himself as slick (although for special occasions he does brush up quite nicely). It’s more of your “genteel shabby”. Rather like a favourite old cardigan; well worn, comfortable and baggy! Herself despairs.

A bit shabby is how they regard Avon Rose around the waterline on a weekend visit to do some maintenance. A hard winter killing off the the vegetation fringe and six months in a marina going nowhere and we have some spots of rust near the waterline, although elsewhere she looks good. She needs to come out and be blacked - now. Still, a productive weekend doing routine maintenance. Some repainting in the front cockpit and clearing out the rest of our “stuff” ready for a final cruise, leaving this delightful winter mooring to deliver her to Dominic Miles at Rugby Boats at Stowe Hill Wharf on the Grand Union at Weedon. Dominic, through whom we bought her nearly three years ago is going to provide the same service for us. A conversation with Dominic’s man Steve at Stowe Hill and we have a blacking arranged for a couple of weeks’ time. She needs to look her best.

Load up the Enterprise car and off he sets for home. Yes, that is what Bath has become. What was home when we started this adventure now computes as “the house”, as Avon Rose is “the boat”. And what about herself? She stays another night on board at Brinklow as she is going to accompany our daughter when she goes for her heart and CT scans before her cancer treatment starts. Hence why himself is wielding the iron. At the end of the week he returns by train for our last leisurely cruise to move Avon Rose from Brinklow to Stowe Hill Wharf. A strong breeze makes reversing out of our berth and exiting the marina interesting as we make our way the few short miles to Rugby and the usual mooring near Tescos (a boatman needs to be fed!) Next day is still breezy and somewhat dull for the run through Hilmorton locks and on down to Braunston where, horror of horrors, our favourite mooring spot below the church is full so we have to move on to moor before the turn by bridge 90. The sun broke through as the day progressed to remind us how lovely this stretch is as we catch the first sight of Baunston church as we pass through the bridge by Willoughby Wharf on our meander southwards. A delightful evening dining at the Boathouse with friends Mike and Marion rounds off the day.

And so our last day of cruising on Avon Rose starts with a light shower, the heavens weeping as we tackle first the six broad Braunston locks, the two thousand yard tunnel on the summit pound before we descend the seven Buckby locks, and pause for lunch by Whilton Marina before making our way to Stowe Hill. In almost three years there are few photos of the old boatman doing his stuff, so herself remedies this a little and himself takes some video clips for the records. And that duck (tiller pin) saw them set off and is once again doing his job as they finish. Himself found another duck memento too which he couldn't resist. A duck in boots as a reminder that sometimes on the towpath even ducks need wellies. A casual text on the topic leads to another surprise. A brief meeting with our biking friends at Weedon Bec. Then it's pack up and leave Avon Rose in the tender care of Steve and Dominic of Rugby Boats at Stowe Hill Wharf as a friend fetches us and takes us to dine with her before we take train to Bath which thanks to an advance ticket deal is a journey in First Class.

As you would expect, himself has all the numbers from our first cruise from Blue Haven Marine where we boaught her to our last stop at Stowe Hill. They are:

70 tunnel passages
176 movable bridges negotiated
948 broad locks plus 702 narrow giving a total of 1,650 lock passages
2,337 miles of canal and river cruised.

Now some time has passed since the above took place. Easter has come and gone; there has been a trip back to Brampton for a house and dog sit, catch up with old friends and do some maintenance at the house.

Himself has been for a job interview - Volunteer Lock Keeper ! As part of the transition to a charitable trust, British Waterways is expanding its use of volunteers still further and the old boater couldn’t resist putting his hand up to have a go. So Avon Rose may be up for sale but canals will still be part of life and enquiries and plans are already being made to go back into shared ownership next year.

So this really is the final post to “The Meanderings of Avon Rose”, but the spirit and aims of AvonRose.org.uk continue on. Remember...” Twenty Years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bow lines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover!”.................... Anybody want to buy a boat??????

£48,500. 57ft G&J Reeves/owner trad (but with an extra wide hatch that creates a semi trad stern). 1998. G&J Reeves have long been established as builders of good quality narrowboat shells. Although ostensibly a trad, the rear hatch is extra wide giving the feel of a semi trad. A smaller hatch is incorporated in the large hatch in case of bad weather cruising. Clever! The original owner - there have only been two - of this boat fitted this out to a high standard of craftsmanship - with attention to detail and design based on years of narrowboat experience. There is an excellent amount of storage, a 4' 6" wide cross bed, a separate utility room with washing machine, a well equipped galley with a cabinet fridge freezer unit, roomy saloon and a large forward cockpit protected by a cratch that is easy to remove. A new Isuzu 42 engine was installed in 2009. Avon Rose is perfect for long term "go anywhere" cruising.

The Big Society????

2011-03-09T16:25:00.002Z

The snowdrops and crocuses are out, we've had some sunshine at last; it must be the start of the cruising season. And where are they? Sitting on a peaceful hillside with no sound but the birds, looking out across the Avon Valley and down onto the golden glint of avenues of Bath stone that is the city of Bath illuminated by bright sunshine from a brilliant blue and cloudless sky. Paradise; and only a fifteen minute walk from home!

Now herself, who is known for her declaration "I don't do hills, bus up, walk down", has had a change of heart. "I need to try and get fitter. I'm going to start to walk up." And here she is, gasping for breath (himself not breathless at her side) having made it from the 50 to the 150 metre contour, triumphant and crying, "This is beautiful!" And so it is. A delightful walk part way up Bathwick Hill then across the Tyning to Widcombe, up Church Lane past the fishponds of Prior Park and the scramble up the footpath to this idyllic spot with Claverton Down rising gently to the East and the panorama of the historic city spread out before us as we gaze northward towards the tower of Saint Stephen’s Church on the other side of the valley.

And what of Avon Rose? She has come through a freezing winter, quietly in the marina at Brinklow. Two weekends ago we paid a second visit to her; freezing of water in the carbon filter to her drinking water tap had ruptured the fitting so himself needed to fit a replacement unit. Otherwise she appears to have come through the winter in fine fettle. It was nice to get the fire blazing away and sit in the warm and cogitate, remembering times past. The old boaters are revelling in their new life ashore, the convenience, the culture, friends, the squeals of delight when “my Granny” appears on the doorstep. Another season of cruising would be travelling roads we have travelled several times before and is less appealing.

This probably says a lot about us. It was the “Explore and Discover” of our motto that drove us. It was the travelling and finding new waterways and structures that excited us. In general we never stayed more than a few days in most places. The only long pauses were due to illness or herself going off somewhere. If we were to live on the boat in a locality we would need the convenience of the facilities provided by a residential mooring in a marina. We want to be in Bath and that does not exist here. So we have decided to sell. Not that this is the end of boating. There are some far flung places we would like to go; the Lancaster canal and the Flakirk Wheel which we would do by hire boat. Himself thinks a return to shared ownership is also on the cards. It would be good to buy into a brand new boat which we can invite friends to come and cruise with us. One of the disappointments of Avon Rose was that we did not really have the facilities to comfortably accommodate friends. When a boat is your home you need much more space than if it is just for holidays.

When a chap puts his name down for an allotment, you know he has no intention of moving soon. With the Amphletts of Ombersley having been yeoman farmers for centuries and the Lees’s on the maternal side the same, it is hardly surprising he feels the need to get his hands in the soil and grow stuff. On the second floor, Granny’s garden (see pic) is a bit limiting. You can tell a woman is revelling in the shorelife as well. Forget showers, we now have a bath and herself wallows in it at the slightest provocation. "Thank goodness she doesn't sing in it," himself was heard to mutter. Not only that, she has taken up ironing! Now that is dedication to the land-based life.

We are putting down roots. As always for us, the serendipity of life works in our favour. With our lovely daughter's recent diagnosis of breast cancer Granny is now well placed to dash off at a moment’s notice to give help and support, if and when required, during the long months of chemotherapy ahead. All things work for good – himself ever the optimist (mostly).

What’s all this “Big Society” about then? “We are the Big Society,” she said as she wielded her litter picker and plastic sack. With the boys in blue becoming an endangered species because of cuts in government grant and the move towards the transformation into charitable status and possibly becoming “The National Trust for Waterways” or suchlike, volunteering is the order of the day, and please note, Mr Cameron, our intrepid boaters are doing their bit! BW, as it still is, are organising monthly working parties along the canal and theirselves have joined up with the Bath team (fourth Thursday of the month) on the good old K&A. Himself was there, wielding his loppers and secateurs to remove ivy and brambles on Baptist Chapel Bridge 194 where the canal emerges into the river. Then they labour at Bath Bottom Lock (7) trimming edges, removing weeds and clearing rubbish and so on up towards Bath Deep lock (8-9). Four hours hard graft, but good to give something back to a facility that has given us so much pleasure. It looks great. Herself is hoping next month to be wielding a paintbrush (less strenuous she thinks).

Himself has finally removed his model boat from the box and started the plank and frame construction of HMS Sherbourne , a 1:64 scale model of a 1763 cutter which was a revenue vessel for the customs service. She’s not perfect but the lessons learnt are destined to be used in the construction of another. Not only that but the astronomical telescope has been taken out of its case and now waits by the window ready for lunar observations - cloud permitting! Our valiant pair are also delighting in regular ringing again; himself pleased at having rung in six quarter peals since his arrival in October 2010. Good as well to be a regular part of a church community and to start to get involved in it’s corporate life.

So what next? Well our intrepid pair have discovered that their favourite and oft referred to canal guide author, Mr Pearson, does the same for railways. Inspired by Michael Portillo’s “Great Railway Journeys” series on the television plans are afoot to explore Scotland by rail (8 in 15 day rover cards look like the way to go). So with Mr Pearson’s “Iron Road to the Isles” in hand, possibilities are being explored. Himself feels the muse upon him; perhaps a blog of another feather could emerge. So is this the end of the Avon Rose blog? Nothing’s over till it’s finished. There may be tales yet to tell.......

Winter Weather............. good move!!!!!

2010-12-13T13:40:00.002Z

"Oh I'm glad I'm here," herself declared as we gazed out of the flat window at the ice and snow. The third hard winter in a row confirms that the decision to move ashore was a good one. Ice on the cut several inches thick and we would have been iced in for a fortnight again, unable to move to services, although we haven't had the snow that some parts of the UK have . As it is we are luxuriating in acres of space, thankful that water and fuel arrives in pipes, enjoying the convenience of being within a ten minute walk of the centre of town with all it's facilities, and happily renewing friendships forged over the past two winters.

And Avon Rose....? She is fine tucked up in the marina. We paid her a weekend visit to check she was OK and pick up a few things we had left on board and found we needed. Solar panels had kept the batteries fully charged. Ran the engine for a couple of hours to warm the hot water system up and got a good fire going to warm her all though.

So in the meantime what has the old boatman been doing with himself. Well apart from all the ringing, visiting and playing with granddaughters he decided to collect the blogs of the last two years into hardcopy so it was not lost. The result is that he has self published it a book. Below is a preview and link to it for those interested. Click on the link if you want a copy. In the meantime have a great Christmas, we certainly shall.

Meanderings of Avon Rose by Michael Amphlett | Make Your Own Book

More wire?????.................

2010-10-29T21:27:00.002+01:00

Well, the old boater has had to fire up his PDA after two years. He has to be places and do stuff. No more we’ll be there about a quarter past October. These land based folk count time to the minute! It’s been quite a culture shock for the old boy. As for herself, she is just so chuffed to be near her girls, and their excitement at having Granny back could be gauged by the squeaks of delight as they came down the road. She’s also glad to be back close to facilities as we have to report another disaster on the glasses front. Vigorous cleaning and the wire nose bridge broke and she is left standing with half a pair in each hand.
Himself to the rescue with his trusty coil of garden wire and he rigs up a jig to hold the two halves together so at least she can see. He thought it was quite elegant; looked great at a glance. As her eldest said, “Are those chic Italian designer frames..... or is that garden wire?” A phone call to Specsavers to ensure we have an appointment as soon s we arrive is the order of the day.

After two years of declaring, “I wouldn’t want to live in a big marina,” herself has decided that it has certain attractions; unlimited electricity, all essential services close at hand, she can hoover as much as she likes, run the hair dryer without having to fire up the engine, use the washing machine in land mode (ie using its heating element) instead of cruising mode, and not getting banged about when early risers go past the boat too fast.

Toby dog has decided he likes the marina as well. There’s a huge great area of grass field for him to tear around. The grass is quite long, so with his little legs he tends to leap rather like a gambling spring lamb rather than run. Favourite game is chasing a ball on the rope, a toy which he is reluctant to be parted from.

The end of season Bar-B-Q was a great success. It was good to get to meet the neighbours, and who should be moored on the pontoon next to us? The couple we had met on the Llangollen in the summer and from whom we had heard about Brinklow Marina, encouraging us to investigate. The decision to come in a couple of weeks earlier than originally planned was a good one. Two weeks of activity and Avon Rose is looking very lovely. Paintwork and hull blacking touched up, cabin sided polished, marvellous. A weekend car hire and a visit to to take Toby dog to live with herself's sister. The disadvantage of renting, pets not allowed. But he’s happy and our nephew won’t have cold feet in bed this winter for sure!

Then it's house-clearing again. It may only be 57ft by 6ft 10 but we still seem to have accumulated “stuff”. A one-way trip in a Mr Enterprise van with our chairs, small table, household goods and clothes and we arrive in Bath to sign up and move into our flat, with grateful thanks to our big boy who carted all our stuff up to the second floor while the old man was returning the van. Then a weekend “camping out” on the blow-up bed until our furniture and boxes of stuff arrives from storage, and yes it does all fit in. Then the anticipation of opening boxes and remembering what we had. “You've got too many books!” she declares, while he mutters, “It's not too many books, it's not enough book shelves........”. But nobly he culls some with a great feeling of self righteousness.

And so here we are. Getting into the swing of life ashore. It's been so easy, picking up where we left off and oh so much more convenient. The view from our lounge is wonderful, It's only a ten minute amble into the centre of town, everything is to hand, the space is great, no worries about water, power and all that kind of stuff. Himself has a theory that there is something deep in the female psyche that has a primeval hunger for nesting. Herself hasn't stopped hoovering and washing since she arrived, “She's got two years of deprivation to make up for!” he mutters to himself as he lifts his feet to allow passage of the carpet sweeper yet again. As for himself, He's bought himself a huge flat screen tv and recorder so he can record the American football again, “It's too big, I can see them sweating!” she wails as the “Strictly Come Dancing” season opens again. He's also seen the inside of a barber's shop for the first time in a couple of years. Now we wouldn't want you to think that he has succumbed to a slick city short hair look, after all, as he frequently declares, “It's a great responsibility having naturally curly hair!” The hairy prophet remains; just a little more stylish.

Well this is the last entry to the Avon Rose blog for a while. We will have to wait and see if it resumes or if...................................the possibilities are endless. Isn't life wonderful!

It's all done with garden wire........

2010-09-24T13:34:00.002+01:00

Now when it comes to wearing glasses some people really shouldn’t be allowed a pair. Sit on, bend, lose, greasy, loose, on the end of the nose, looked over as much as through (vari-focal at that) – no need to ask who fits in that category.... mmm....... himself. Well despite recent adjustment he’s managed to make them loose again so that they have a tendency to fall off his face. Now for a man who lives on the water this is not an ideal situation and, you guessed it, he bends to exit the cratch to get on the bank and....... plop! “Oh dear”, at least that's what we think he meant. Now too many pairs of glasses have been lost to the sirens of the cut and as he knows precisely where they went down he is determined to attempt a recovery. Now old boaters are nothing if not resourceful. Out with the coil of garden wire (useful for all kinds of emergencies). A twist here and there and he has devised a three-prong grappling hook which he attaches to the end of his walking stick, relic of the bad back episode of the first year. We are fishing in about three foot of water between bank and moored boat. A few careful passes feeling for any sign of metalwork, carefully does it and........ YES!!!! One pair of somewhat muddy glasses dangling from the improvised device. Another hundred quid saved! What are we saying? You guessed it. A few days later, similar situation and ........plop! Out with the improvised grappling hook again and someone, somewhere is looking after him because once more they are recovered. He is now seen exiting the boat, glasses firmly clutched in his hand. No point in pushing your luck.

Now you will recall that we were in Coventry Basin, staying another day because of the strength of the wind - it’s no fun going sideways down the canal. Next day, a complete contrast – hardly a breath of wind, the sun breaking through and off we go, retracing our way down the Coventry arm to Hawkesbury Junction. Right turn under the junction bridge and into Sutton Stop lock to rise a few inches to move onto the Oxford Canal.

This is familiar territory, the M6 motorway never far away, soon to be joined by the Trent Valley Railway running from Crewe down to London. As we go along evidence of old loops of the original course of the meandering Oxford Canal before straightening in the early 1800’s cut almost 14 miles from its length. Our destination is All Oaks Wood next to Brinklow village, a beautiful peaceful rural spot we have stayed at before. A picnic spot and small car park beside the canal makes it a popular spot with the canal dwelling community. A few days chilling out is a must.

Now Brinlow village is a bit of a walk from the canal but it would be a shame not to pause and have a look at the Tump. “The what?” you say. The Tump, that’s the local name for it. Supposedly the largest Norman motte and bailey castle remaining in England. You know that herself is not to fond of hills in an upward direction but she could not resist struggling up the steep grassy slope to the top and “What a view”. The castle was built here to dominate the course of the Fosse Way. Turn north and you see it stretching straight to the horizon; turn south to see it continue on. The modern road curves round the castle down the village High Street until it rejoins the line of the Fosse again.

We hear from the net that there is to be an end of season Bar-B-Q on 25th September at Brinklow Marina where Avon Rose will reside for the winter while we take up residence in Bath. We have to admit that we are feeling travel weary and decide that an early entry into the marina giving us chance to meet some of the neighbours and some extra time to get Avon Rose spruced up for the winter suddenly sounds very attractive. A final trip down to Braunston for the weekend before returning to the Marina is agreed upon and early entry to the marina negotiated.

We moor in our favourite spot in Braunston , by bridge 89 at the bottom of the hill below the church. From here we look south across the canal to a meadow of sheep with a footpath running up from the bridge giving access to the end of the High Street. On Saturday two friendscome and join us for lunch at The Boathouse. That evening we dine at the same place (the 2 for one offers are just too good to miss so really we only ate out once). Our companions this time are Mike Kelly and his wife, friends who live in Braunston – Mike the author of “Waterway” the canal mapping and satnav software we use (http://eureauweb.com/Water-Way/) . We are introduced to “Admiral” Pete Boyce and his lady and invited to go and see Lucy the following morning after church (ringing for service first of course – nice six but struggling band.) Now who is Lucy I here you cry. Lucy is probably one of the last wooden narrowboats to be built at the Samuel Barlow yard in Braunston in 1951. We have passed her on a number of occasions but when we last did she was a sunken hulk at Puddle Banks on the GU/Oxford cut out of Braunston. Pete has rescued her and is in the process of carefully photographing and documenting all the details of her constructon and has now started her restoration, plank by plank. Have a look at http://www.phobox.com/lucy/ to see the full story.

Monday and a lazy start as we move to Braunston Turn to wind and make our way back to Rugby for an overnight stop by Tescos. Stock up in the morning before setting off for the marina down through Hillmorton Locks, through Newbold Tunnel with its towpaths on either side and colourful floodlights. (Towpaths in tunnels indicate a later construction – this was the second built at Newbold when the Oxford was straightened; the site of the old one can be seen near the church.) At bridge 39 where a remaining length of the original line joins the straightened canal we turn left and head into Brinklow Marina, call the duty harbour master’s mobile and John comes and installs us in our berth. So here we are, beautiful open site, wonderfully peaceful. Electric hook-up and water on tap; disposal facilities close by, this is a tired boater's heaven. So now it’s out with the paint pots, time to repair the ravages of a hard season’s cruising and get Avon Rose all ship-shape and ready to face the winter.

It’s now over 2 years since we moved aboard Avon Rose and a fantastic two years it has been. The statistics are impressive and as you would imagine himself, the nerd, has them all:

67 tunnel passages through 32 of the 41 tunnels still navigable including the longest (Standedge on Huddersfield Narrow at 5,698yards= approx 3 ¼ miles) and the shortest on the system (Dunsley on Staffs & Worcs at 25yards).

176 moveable bridges passed through (lift and swing, some mechanised).

1,556 locks negotiated of which 875 were broad gauge and 681 were narrow – with rises ranging from a few inches to 14 feet. Why would you want a lock of only a few inches? Well these are the “Stop Locks” at points were canals owned by different companies joined. Water supply is so essential to canal operation (parts of the Leeds & Liverpool have been closed this summer because of water shortages) that canal companies were paranoid about rivals stealing their water, so you install a pair of gates to ensure they can’t; also gives you a way of controlling boat passage so you can collect tolls.

The list of waterways we have traversed is quite impressive as well (see below). Plenty to look back on over the winter as we come ashore. Herself looking forward to laying in a nice warm bath whenever she likes, himself hoping to finally build the wooden model sailing cutter he has been carrying around for the last two years; there’s just been too much boating to do!

WATERWAYS cruised by Avon Rose from 13 September 2008 to 21 September 2010

> Aire & Calder Navigation
> Ashby Canal
> Ashton Canal
> Birmingham Canal Navigation New Main Line
> Bridgewater Canal
> Calder & Hebble Navigation
> Coventry Canal
> Grand Union Canal Main Line
> Grand Union Canal Leicester Arm
> Grand Union Canal Market Harborough Arm
> Grand Union Canal Northampton Arm
> Grand Union Canal Paddington Arm
> Grand Union Canal Welford Arm
> Grand Union Canal Wendover Arm
> Huddersfield Broad Canal
> Huddersfield Narrow Canal
> Kennet & Avon Canal
> Leeds & Liverpool Canal
> Leeds & Liverpool Canal Leigh Branch
> Llangollen Canal
> Macclesfield Canal
> Middle Levels Navigation
> Montgomery Canal
> Oxford Canal
> Peak Forest Canal
> River Avon (Warwicksshire)
> River Great Ouse
> River Nene
> River Severn
> River Soar
> River Thames
> River Trent
> Shropshire Union Canal
> Staffs & Worcs Canal
> Stourbridge Canal
> Stratford Canal
> Trent & Mersey Canal
> Worcester & Birmingham Canal

We’ve come full circle.....

2010-09-23T20:14:00.005+01:00

Now in matters of boating and what’s worth seeing we tend to defer to the good taste of “Mr Pearson”. (JM Pearson & Sons Ltd, Canal Companions series, 9 booklets covering the inland waterways network). We enjoy the dry wit of Michael Pearson’s commentary accompanying the linear maps of the cruising routes. On our way up the Staffs & Worcs from Stourport we decide to take a diversion up the Stourbridge Canal (more new water) to Stourbridge itself to test his assertion - following an admission of ”..a tendency to wax lyrical,” - that “the pound between Stourton and Wordesly is simply ravishing.” So at Stourton Junction we duly take a right, as our transatlantic cousins say, and head up pretty little flight of four locks that raise us 36 feet up the Stourton flight. Some delightful gardens border and extend onto the side of the top lock with its memorial seat. Clear water, a good margin of ribbon weed and sight of ample shoals of small roach perhaps indicate that not many boats pass this way. And the verdict? Yes, Mr Pearson, “the spirit of romance, soft shoe shuffling,” does remain alive, the pound is enchanting, despite the occasional heavy passing shower.

At Wordsley junction we take another right and cruise down the Stourbridge arm to its terminus at the bonded warehouse at the Town Wharf and a secure mooring. Stourbridge is a town that has been a centre of glassworks, the old centre of which is separated from the historic wharf by that scourge of many a town; a dual carriage way urban bypass. Fortunately this one has a convenient pedestrian underpass which is put to good use in travelling to a splendid Indian Restaurant to celebrate the fact that himself has notched up another year.

Having seen the best of the Stourbridge we retrace our steps to the Staffs & Worcs rather than taking the passage up the locks to the long Netherton tunnel and into the centre of Birmingham again. On the outskirts of Wombourne we moor below Bratch Locks. We take a short walk to have a look at the flamboyant turreted pumping station which houses Victoria and Alexandra, a pair of magnificent steam engines which have been lovingly restored but not open for viewing on this occasion. Instead we make our way up the street to the station building (the track bed now in use as a cycle and walkway) to the station cafe and the compulsory tea and cake. Bratch locks, as we may have mentioned before, are a treasure. Originally a three-chambered staircase lock they were early on converted to three separate locks with side pounds. The distance between one chamber and the next however is only about three feet so there can be no passing between locks. The lovely octagonal toll office is a base for a lock-keeper who oversees passages up and down. From the top lock there are lovely views over the surrounding country. Herself has declared it “One of the most delightful spots on the waterways”.

So we continue on upwards. It is some years since we last cruised the upper half of the Staffs & Worcs. The weather has been indifferent, windy with showers. August is turning into a regular miserable month. We pause for the weekend at Penkridge where, as we moor, helself observes a small hairy dog swimming with great gusto from beneath the bridge we have just come though. “The dog’s in the canal!!!!!” When you’ve only got little legs you can’t haul yourself out so are forced to paddle back and forth looking pathetic. That’s what becomes of being too eager to get ashore. A firm hand round the collar and out he comes, shake and shiver, daft mutt.

At Great Heyward Junction we turn eastward onto the Trent and Mersey and familiar water to moor below Haywood lock and a day visit to Shugborough Hall beside the canal. Now in the care of the National Trust, Shugborough is the former home of the Earls of Litchfield and in the house is a small exhibition of Patrick Litchfield’s photographs from the 1980’s. More is open to view since we were here last, including the County Museum. And of course with a NT property lunch and a cream tea in the middle of the afternoon is essential; merely as a matter of quality control you understand. We have to convince ourselves that NT tearooms are always worth a visit.
At Colwich lock we encounter what we have so far managed to avoid in this peak holiday season – serious queuing! With ten boats ahead of us it takes us two hours to get through. At Fradley junction, a one time base for our shared ownership boat Scimitar we turn onto the familiar Coventry Canal. Hopwas and the Tame Otter (that’s the River Tame that goes through Tamworth) is a must stop place for himself; good beer and good food.

At Fazeley junction herself is delighted to find that the sawmill sells off-cuts and she is able to obtain a supply of nice logs – insurance against the approaching cold weather. So up to the top of the Atherstone flight for a lock free trip to Coventry and some sunshine at last. At Hawkesbury junction we continue on down the Coventry to the Canal Basin in Coventry itself. When we arrive the revitalised basin is empty and we have it to ourselves.

The Heir Apparent may disparage modern architecture but in the magnificent spiritual space which is Coventry Cathedral one could not agree with any generalisation on the subject. At Sunday Eucharist here we had the full panoply of cathedral liturgy as the service included the installation of the new Cannon Precentor, formerly Vicar of Newbury whom we have encountered before on our passages through Newbury on the Kennet and Avon. Here we rest and spend several days exploring the delights of Coventry, searching out the remaining parts of the medieval city, and visiting the excellent Herbert Museum. Today we should have left, but with winds gusting at 30mph and more we decided to stay put. Move.....??? Tomorrow will do. What’s the rush?

How many?????..............

2010-08-14T22:55:00.003+01:00

Well that's it. We've done it. We've travelled our 2,000th mile since the start of this great adventure. And where has it got us??? ….........Worcester. “Now hang on,” they cry. “Last time you blogged you were in Worcester. Is this the equivalent of a boating treadmill?” It may have seemed like it sometimes but that was 124 locks, 108 miles and 23 days ago. We have returned. The passage of the Avon Ring to bring us back on the Severn in the ancestral city, moored up by the racecourse, enjoying a cool beer in the elusive summer sun (and she's doing my crossword again!)....It was a trip that included some nostalgia and more new water.

On a dull drizzly day we head northward on the Worcester and Birmingham canal to Tibberton hoping to escape the lousy TV reception in Worcester only to be confronted by that curse of the satellite TV watching boater - trees in the wrong place. Another day without Countdown and she could get quite nasty. 1,500 hours on the clock so after a restful morning himself spends a couple of hours in his engine hole doing the routine oil change and service and utters a few choice words as he manages to break his trusty strap wrench (only had it 30 years, stuff just doesn't last!).

Now if you are lock shy, the start of the Worcs & Birmingham Canal is not for you. Even the Lockmiester has to admit this is hard going. Gate paddles on bottom gates nicely geared and a doddle. Ground paddles on the upper gates, a different prospect. Apart from the stretch between Tibberton and Astwood bottom lock they come fairly regularly and often in groups. The real test of metal comes with the infamous Tardebigge flight. Thirty locks in just over two miles. Our intrepid pair have a morning of boating and then moor opposite the Queens Head below Tardebigge bottom lock. Herself is delighted as we have good satellite reception again and naturally dining out at the Queen's Head with a refreshing pint or two is a necessary prerequisite to strengthen the sinews before the labours of the morrow. Himself is up with the lark and by 0710 they are off. Locks empty from overnight, get going before the hire-boaters are about; we don't want a bad road today! (Bad road = locks set against you so have to be emptied/filled before you enter.).

By 1100 we emerge from the top lock, at 14 feet one of the deepest on the narrow system, over 200 feet higher than when we started and, as they say, a little cream-crackered. Above the delicate slender spire of Tardebigge's church of Saint Bartholomew points skyward. After a restful lunch we climb over the meadow footpath to look at this delightful light and airy 18th century church, built following the collapse of the previous one (the tower fell on it); contains some fine memorial statuary as well.

The great thing about reaching the top of the Tardebigge flight is that you know that that's it; no more locks all the way to the centre of Birmingham and the end of the Worcs and Birmingham at Worcester Bar. Just a series of three tunnels of increasing length, from Tardebigge tunnel (580 yards) to Shortwood (613 yards) and finally the mighty Wast Hill (2,726 yards – that's just over a mile and a half for the imperially challenged). For those travelling the Avon Ring we stop short at Kings Norton Junction before turning right onto the Stratford Canal.

Good and plentiful moorings by the recreation ground across which we walk to the church and the centre of the town with its shops around a green. “Ah, that Kings Norton!” himself declares as the penny drops. An ancestral connection, the Reverend Joseph Amphlett was the first Vicar of Kings Norton from 1847 till his death at the age of 71 in 1859 although he ministered there from the 1820's. Joseph was a younger brother of himself's Great-great-great-grandfather William. There is a touching memorial to Joseph in the chancel, “....to record the patience, discretion, faithfulness and Christian love which marked a Ministry in this place of thirty five years this tablet is erected by means of small contributions from numbers of his parishioners who mourn his loss.”
“Quite something to have to live up to.” said Rob the current Vicar when we talked to him after the Sunday Eucharist; itself made special by the knowledge of the family connection. Nice ring too, although only the middle 8 of the ten was possible.

We pass through the now defunct stop-lock with its guillotine gates at either end which marks the start of the northern Stratford canal and a nostalgic trip. The Stratford was the first canal we cruised way back in 1968. Then we started from the southern section, in those days still managed by the National Trust, the first waterway restoration, done by volunteers, the army and prisoners from the local gaol. The northern section had remained open being an alternative route from the Grand Union into Birmingham. The first nine miles or so are lock free until you reach the Lapworth flight of 26 with Kingswood Junction with the Grand Union coming in at lock 21. In ’68 the top 19 on the northern section were in a bit of a state as I recall and hard work. The Stratford is a delight with its unique narrow split iron bridges (split to take the towrope as the towpath does not go under the bridge arch) and its barrel roofed lock cottages. We moor at Wooton Wawen and walk up to the village to look at St Peter’s church, (oldest in Warwickshire) with its Saxon Sanctuary. A delight for the student of ecclesiastical architecture as it seems to have something from every period. At lock 51 on the edge of Stratford a pause to remember, this was the first lock we ever passed through, guided by the folk from the boatyard. We got much more instruction than novice boaters get these days, being accompanied for a mile from the boatyard, shown how to navigate through the narrow bridges and hands on lock instruction.

We moor in the basin by the river lock in front of the Shakespeare memorial Theatre, still in the process of its renovation and modernisation. Then we go down the broad river lock onto the Avon and moor opposite the theatre. This is not a manoeuvre for shy boaters; a large audience gathers and herself acknowledges the applause of the assembled gongoozelers as see slips the boat effortlessly though a single opened gate without a graze (poser!).

Then we tackle the Avon. When we last graced this water in ’68 the Avon was not navigable below Stratford. The river navigation is managed by the Avon Navigation Trust (the Upper and Lower Avon Trusts merged in November 2009) so a visito’rs licence is obtained from the marina. Now as we know, himself is not a river man but he had to admit that the Avon in summer is a delight. Like the Nene a good 24hrs rain rapidly changes its character. In some ways the Thames in miniature. the sweeping lawns and mansions less grand, the river not so wide and changeable scenery as you wind your way downstream and work yourself through the broad locks. Kingfishers – the first we’ve seen for a long time. She has a theory that the hard winter with frozen water has badly affected the population on the canals. Herself, having a birthday on the day of our arrival at Tewkesbury, we sallied out for a very good curry in Tewkesbury High Street and we spend a delightful weekend moored above the river lock. The Abby’s great Norman nave is magnificent. The drama of the Choral Eucharist on Sunday was uplifting (you can’t help but be moved by smells and bells done very well – but then I would say that). The scattering of half timbered buildings a delight. The Ham, a vast water meadow surrounded by the rivers managed in a similar manner to Portholme Meadow by the great Ouse, a reminder of home.

From Tewkesbury we head north up the River Severn. Wide river, high banks, lined with mighty willows, big automated river locks operated by lock keepers; you can imagine how happy himself was.

Since we started composing this posting we have moved on from Worcester heading northward back to Stourport and up the staircase locks to moor above the basin and the safety of the canal where we sit waiting for the weather to improve. No point getting wet for no reason. Anchor re-stowed in the forward locker. Some interest on the way in that Bevere lock on the Severn above Worcester had its upstream paddle sheared and was being filled with pumps; took 15 minutes! “Something always happens when they start dredging,” said a philosophical lockie. Even the boring bits are seldom dull.

And so to continue....................

2010-07-15T15:06:00.003+01:00

Ha!!!!!!.........didn't think I'd do it did you. Part two within a week? Don't get too excited son, you've only just started to put finger to keyboard, and if the gestation of the last episode is anything to go by it will be a tall order to finish within a week. But then it is raining so the likelihood of him rushing off to do boating is greatly diminished. The period of summer sun has come to a close for the moment; pleasing that things are cooling down a bit. You can tell it's been hot because she finally persuaded him to get his shorts out and don a pair of sandals. She does however have to put up with the nightly observation, “I've got stripey feet!” Old boaters do get obsessive at times. “Took me ages to get you to put them on, now I can't get you out of them.” Women are so difficult to please. But we digress. They return from their day in London and our intrepid pair resume their cruise.

From our mooring opposite the NIA we head west on the BCN New Mainline (new in this context means 1838, Telford's straighter canal constructed to ease congestion on Brindley's original 1772 contour canal and speed passage because of fear of railway competition). We really must join one of the BCN Society's annual cruises around the less frequented arms and loops of the Birmingham network, 100 miles of the 160 originally is still in existence, with various groups attempting further restorations. The possible boredom of the broad straight Main Line with its towpath on both sides is relieved by spotting the various loops, junctions, factory basins and transshipment docks. Not to mention the various points at which an island appears in the line and splits the canal into two passages each only just a boat's width, evidence of the location of toll offices and the vast amount of short haul traffic within the system in its day. The BCN was so integrated with the local industry that the railways only affected the long haul canal traffic and it was not until the 1950's that the enormous move to road haulage really hit the Birmingham canals. What is left has partly survived because of the use of the canal water by industry and the waterways' importance as storm drains. It was astonishing how clear the water is with clusters of ribbon weed growing in its depths, not the black oily sludge you tend to associate with industrial waterways.

The Main Line brings you eventually to the Wolverhampton flight of 21 locks. This is “bandit” country; anti-vandal locks on all the paddle gear. After a chat with one of the boys in blue we moor in the security of the BW depot basin. Our last trip this way had been more than ten years ago and the recollections of the Wolverhampton 21 were of pouring rain; rusty corrugated iron, brick rubble and decay. Not so now, new housing, trees and grassy open spaces all very pleasant looking. However, Herself's visit to a local convenience store adjacent to lock 16 and the scrutiny and door locking of the shopkeeper was a reminder that this is still bandit country.

Our descent ends at the bottom lock and we emerge from under the bridge at Aldersly Junction to turn right for a brief passage up the Staffs & Worcs to Autherly Junction and a left turn into the Shroppie, our next objective for this season. A giddy rise of six inches in the stop lock at the start. Herself still can't get her head round this obsession by the rival canal companies with guarding their water, despite the fact that BW is already putting restrictions on the northern canals because of the lack of rain this year and the concern over water levels in the reservoirs. Now the Shroppie (Shropshire Union Canal to give it its proper title) is a beast of a very different character. This was one of the last major canal routes constructed. Opened in 1835 and designed by Telford in the light of future railway competition, there is no contour following here. It runs as straight as possible to Nantwich forging through the countryside in deep cuttings and over embankments with some 15 lock free miles. Locks as they occur tend to come in close groups. As we pass through picturesque tree-lined cuttings it is difficult to imagine what the view would have been when the canal first opened and these great troughs and banks were bare.

Our first stop is at Brewood (Brood to the locals) and ringing for Sunday service at St Mary & St Chad, a lovely 8 which brings a determination to ensure we make the return on a Tuesday so we can join their practice. Then on to Gnosall where our son takes over the boat and we head off in our hire car for the North Wales tour we started the last posting with. Suffice it to say she did get a nice bathtub soak. “Can't think why you want to wallow in your own muck,” he mumbles. “Nice stimulating shower and wash it down the plughole.”

Now himself formed an attachment for Gnosall. From the south you approach through the short Cowley Tunnel to moor between Bridge 34 (The Boat Inn) and Bridge 35 (The Navigation). Now the Navigation had attached fliers advertising their meals on every mooring ring. “Must be rubbish,” himself declares. “They're desperate to get more business, Let's go to the Boat.” This is a decision he was not to regret. Two courses for £8.95, pies a speciality. A steak and kidney pie to die for; pastry like his mother used to make – melt in your mouth shortcrust. “OK, so you want to be at Brewood for the ringing practice but we could stop here for lunch!”. You cannot separate a good man from a real pie; it would be grounds for divorce for goodness sake.

Our son has a lovely week, turning left at Hurleston Junction and taking Avon Rose the up the Langollen Canal to moorings at Llangollen Wharf. After a final night in a B&B backing onto the canal at Llangollen our intrepid pair rejoin Avon Rose, hire car returned and farewells said as they prepare for the journey back down the canal to Hurleston Junction. The last time they came this way was in about 1969 on their second canal holiday. The end of the navigable canal has changed much since then with the provision of a canal basin and wharf-side mooring all with electric hook-up and a charge of £6 a night. Well the batteries enjoyed it, having a good gorge on all those electrons. The channel has been confined in a concrete corset in places only wide enough for single boat passage. There is quite a flow of water downstream as well, the canal being fed from the River Dee at Horseshoe falls in order to keep the reservoirs at Hurleston full – this is the water supply for Crewe and the reason the navigation survived.

Before they leave they manage to grab their first Welsh tower and herself finds the laundrette does a service wash for only £10 for two machines full! The simple pleasures are the best. Turn in the basin and it's only a short trip to the sharp right at Trevor and the best canal ride on the system, a wonder of the waterway. Telford's engineering masterpiece, the Pontcysyllte aqueduct. A 1,000 foot long iron trough supported on 18 stone piers, at its deepest 127 foot above the Dee valley below. There is nothing quite like standing at the tiller of your boat and, looking over the side at the beautiful scenery and seeing nothing between you and the foaming River Dee 125 foot below. You could step off the counter into thin air, no barrier – knee wobblingly awesome! Looking over the chest high railings on the towpath side is not the same. About four miles further on and you emerge from the 459 yard Chirk Tunnel and you are 70 feet up over the River Ceiriog in another iron trough on ten masonry arches looking a the the arches of the magnificent railway viaduct running beside and towering over you.

A phone call to book our passage through Frankton locks as we take a brief right hand diversion onto the partly restored Montgomery canal, an unnavigable abandoned waterway last time we came this way. Another rural delight, a haven of peace and quiet. Eggs from the Farm Shop so large that you couldn't close the egg box and when cracked for cooking everyone turned out to be a double yoker! “Haven't see such a thing since I were a lad,” Not another “My Granddad ...” story. surely (For the uninitiated, on trips round bygones and rural museums himself was renowned for declaring to his offspring at least once, “My Granddad had one of those.......”.)

At Hurleston a left turn back onto the Shroppie and we head on to Chester, another place that's having an IWA boat rally when we arrive. Himself grumbling as we reach the Bunbury staircase locks for here we return to broad gauge canal – heavy gates and gear again. Chester is a place we love and one we visited several times by canal when we first went into a boat share. On their practice night we join the Cathedral Ringers in their beautiful architect designed detached tower. Beautiful as architecture but as a bell tower? - rubbish. They regale us with everything wrong with it the worst of which from the point of view of its purpose is that the sound of the bells in confined to a cone of space about 100 yards in diameter around the tower. Cock your ear on the other side of the cathedral and. surrounding streets and.......... “what bells?” Here too herself is shocked by the red of tooth and claw as she witnesses a lone swan seize and eat a baby duckling. Aggressive chap your swan. We have heard of other tales of their murderous intent towards their own species.

We then make a trip we had not done before and carry on to the end of the Shroppie at Ellesmere Port and the canal basins and wharf buildings that now house the National Waterways Museum. Historic narrow boats, canal history, a fascinating place for a day's visit. And adjacent to the basins the mighty Manchester Ship Canal and views across the Mersey with the Anglican Cathedral and Mersey Funnel (or Paddy's Wigwam if you prefer) clearly visible on the distant Liverpool skyline.

And so we retrace our steps down the Shroppie and yes, you guessed it, lunch at Gnosall (steak, port and Stilton pie this time) followed by an evening of ringing at Brewood; and so onward till we make the six inch ascent to the junction with the Staff & Worcs and take a right towards Stourport. From the Junction with the Birmingham Canals at Aldersley we are on new water again, a canal we have not previously navigated. Tree-lined, rural, at times cut through or in sight of red sandstone outcrops and with it's distinctive rounded end lock balance beams as we descend towards the River Severn. For him a must do stop at the National Trust's Wightwick Manor to see the William Morris interior design and the Pre-Raphaelite paintings he loves. A pause at Kinver and Sunday service ringing before church. You know you are in the land of your fathers when your entry in the visitors book draws the comment, “With a name like that you must have connections round here.” Also at Kinver we talk to the folk at Wilson Boatcovers and arrange for repairs to our cratch cover on return.

So we continue to Stourport and the bustling canal basins, emerging though the narrow staircase locks onto the River Severn and turn left for Worcester a short three hour river cruise. This is our family's home country. As we pass Holt Fleet the village of Ombersley lies just 2 miles to the east. The place where our predecessors can be traced back to 1373. As we pass Grimley I can see the Malvern Hills behind the spire of Hallow church, the village where my Dad and his brothers were born and raised. The Cathedral looks magnificent as we pass to ascend Diglis locks and moor beyond the basin at the start of the Worcester and Birmingham Canal. And here we sit. Part 2 posted within a week? Piece of cake.
...............he does go on, he'd be no good on twitter....

Oh.... You're still with us then.......???

2010-07-12T21:11:00.011+01:00

“Phew.... I'm exhausted!” herself declares as she drags herself to the windy summit of Snowdon,...... and looks back to the train standing at the station a hundred yards away (that's 91.44 metres to the imperially challenged).. But then a girl does have problems with the little red jobs that supply the oxygen. “Now hang on!” they cry, “last time you deigned to communicate you were waiting for the tide in Teddington. What you doing on top of a Welsh mountain? There's no canal up there!”

“You have a point” he shamefacedly replies, realising that it's just past the Summer Solstice and he last put finger to keyboard at the end of April. All I can say is, time does fly when you're having fun! So, Snowdon? Well, folks on a constant boating holiday need a holiday from time to time. A hire car and week touring North Wales while our son has a boating holiday and takes Avon Rose (and Toby dog) up the Llangollen Canal, while herself hopes that every place we stay has a bathtub so that she can luxuriate in gallons of hot water and bubbles; the one thing she misses in this boating life. The scenery was stunning, the weather was beautiful. Himself fell in love with Port Merion and has now added another “must do” to his list, a midweek break in one of the houses in the village. “We like North Wales”, herself has decided.

But what about the boating? Well boating down the tidal Thames was interesting. When we first arrived at Teddington lock it dropped the level a good five feet or more to the lower level. When we entered for our decent we dropped a few inches. It was a high tide. In parts the towpath was flooded and walkers were considering removing shoes and socks to wade back to where they started from. As we sailed through the open sluices at Richmond, bypassing the lock, we noted the river lapping at the door of a riverside pub. By the time we reached Brentford an hour later the tide had turned, the river level had already dropped by eighteen inches and there was a good flow downstream as we turned into the Grand Union canal and made for Thames lock and our appointment with the lock keeper.

Now we seem to have a knack this year of turning up at places just when they are having an IWA (Inland Waterways Association) boat festival. The first was at Little Venice so we spent a weekend (with free electric hookup) at Brentford Basin until it was over and the visiting boats moved out. The trip down the Paddington arm to Little Venice and Paddington Basin was a delightful surprise; a green corridor into the capital in many places, with much regeneration of the urban environment where it touched the waterway. Paddington Basin itself a remarkably quiet mooring, sandwiched between the new extension of Saint Mary's Hospital and M&S corporate headquarters. A short walk to the number 15 bus stop and a free ride (hooray for bus passes) into Trafalgar Square. It's the eve of the General Election (as postal voters we had cast our vote a week before). A matinee performance of “Blood Brothers”, a visit to the V&A, a trip on the water-bus to Camden Locks Market (in the old canal horse hospital and stables) and Sunday Eucharist at Saint Martin in the fields rounded off a very enjoyable visit to London by canal.

Then we move northward on the Grand Union main line and hit another canal festival, at Rickmansworth this time, but we get through before it starts and before the majority of boats have arrived. A friend joins us here to spend a few days with us. This is the waterway of his youth.

Now heading forth on the GU we must pass through Braunston, so himself decides this is a good opportunity to get that broken porthole fixed and makes the calls to arrange for it BUT.... its the week before the Crick Boat Show so everyone in Braunston is busy preparing for it. It is arranged however that the window supplier will bring the replacemtn glass to the show to repair the window.All seems straightforward, we arrive at Braunston, boatyard remove porthole and blank off hole with wood and take to Crick for glass to be fitted. Glass arrives at Crick, Glass gets broken, Will be several days more before replacement is ready and fitted. Problem is we cannot wait as have to be in Birmingham by 8th June. In the end our daughter meets us in Warwick, drives us back to pick up the repaired porthole and himself re-fits it. Why are simple things never straightforward,

But you're free spirits. Why the deadline for Birmingham? Well it's Founder's Day at the Royal Hospital and relatives of In-Pensioners who have died in the last 12 months get invited once more. Our nephew kindly came to look after boat and Toby dog as we take the early morning train from Birmingham New Street. The Duke of Gloucester was the Royal guest this year. It was very strange being there without Dad. A visit always entailed a visit to the cafe in the Army Museum next door, so it seemed appropriate to go there for lunch after the parade and then come back and walk through the colonnade once more; disappointing that the Royal Hospital Museum was not able to be open as planned so we could not see Dad's Polar Medal ( bequeathed to the Royal Hospital) on display.The end of an era, odd to contemplate that you are now the oldest member of your immediate family.

But we are ahead of ourselves. We haven' t reached Birmingham yet! The Grand Union north from Napton Junction through Warwick and Lemington is blessed with huge ground paddles and associated worm gears as a result of the 1930's modernisation, when the single locks were replaced with broad gauge locks designed to fill and empty very quickly. The narrow chambers are still in place but no longer gated. Water enters the broad chamber at two points along the length of the lock. Navigating a single narrow craft uphill you open the ground paddle on the same side as the boat, the water rushes in, hits the opposite wall, bounces back and pins the boat to the side of the lock. So no need to hold the boat by the centre rope to stop it being bounced around and you only need to open one paddle and can get out through one gate, the gearing makes raising easier so not such hard work as a conventional broad lock. The twenty one locks of the Hatton Flight is therefore not as daunting as it might seem,

We had good weather and some brilliant sunshine but as we pause at the Black Boy at Knowle for Sunday lunch before moving up the Knowle flight for an overnight stop at Catherine de Barnes the rain starts. As an aside it seems the pub name “Black Boy” refers to King Charles II – it was his mothers nickname for her dark complexioned son (shades of Michael Caine - “Now not many people know that”). Now himself is in heaven; Kate (old boaters' name for C de B) marks the end of broad locks, from here on in we're back to narrow gauge locks and lighter gates and paddle gear. In our travels so far, in the over 1,000 locks we have negotiated, we have worked twice as many broad as narrow. If you'd told him that would be the case, he wouldn't have believed you. This summer he hopes to redress that balance. Camphill and the environs of Birmingham, more industrial archeology than you can shake a stick at. Herself excited as the services at Camphill have washing machine and drier. The small washing machine on the boat is fine, but for bed linen and towels a laundrette is useful not least because of getting stuff dry. Her joy is short lived. The services are new, clean and very nice, but his is urban Birmingham. The machines have been nicked!!! We are back to the land of anti-vandal locks on paddle gear.

The journey from the Digbeth branch up he Birmingham and Fazely Canal to the BCN Mainline (Birmingham Canal Navigations) is fascinating. Truly the “Hidden Waterways” as we pass between Victorian factories and wharves, tunnels bridges and under buildings, some new ones on stilts over the waterway. Your average Brummie has no idea that we are here. A sudden clunk, engine straining, all stop, himself head down the weed hatch to remove a sheet and plastic bag tangle from the prop. This is the only time, we remember when in Birmingham this was a frequent occurrence. At Old turn Junction we are on the mainline and the utterly transformed water scape with the redeveloped Brindley Place, National Indoor arena and Sealife Centre. What would those old boys say if they could see Gas Street Basin now!

Our trip to London from here to Founder's Day. Founder = Charles II – hence his gilded statue (represented as a Roman General)in the Figure Court where the parade is held is covered in oak boughs and we all wear a bunch of oak leaves (kept mine this year to press). Royal Oak, battle of Worcester, do a runner etc.. wait till they've had enough of old Nobby....you know the story! Well at this point I'll take a pause as time is going on and it,s a long time since the last post and we're not up to date yet! Part two will be posted within a week if you can contain your excitement that long.

From mud & slime to sunshine........

2010-04-30T23:12:00.002+01:00

Well after a pleasant weekend in Bradford we move above the lock to use the services, visit Mr Sainsbury to stock up and spend the night (with marginally better TV reception) before moving slowly towards Devizes for the scheduled re-opening of the Caen Hill flight the following Saturday. Lots of moored boats contribute to a slow passage. It will be interesting to see what difference BW's new mooring policy will make in the latter part of the year. This western end of the K&A is one of the pilot areas for devising a local policy in conjunction with all interested parties.

“You got a partner for passage up the flight? No; well you have now!” The direct approach from Dave on NB Drift as we pause at Sells Green waiting for the 27th and the passage up to Devizes. Next afternoon we move the mile to Foxhanger wharf to the bottom of the 29 lock flight. More drizzle at the end of the day as we hope the forecast of sunny intervals materialises. As it turned out the weather was reasonable but a delay with a drained pound by Foxhanger Cottage in the bottom seven made for our slowest ever passage up the hill (six hours and a smashed porthole window to boot). At the end of the winter works the pound below the middle sixteen had been drained. With pressure of water released the piling on the canal bank below the lock collapsed; as we edge past it a protruding baulk of timber made contact with a sickening crunch. Held together with selotape another little job to be seen to.

A pleasant weekend in Devizes with Monday spent at the laundrette, stocking up supplies and we head off towards Great Bedwyn which we make by Wednesday,pausing of course at Honey Street and the Barge in for a pint and cheesy chips; a delight himself refuses to forego. Herself on the other hand could not resist a visit to the saw mill for a small bag of logs to see out the remainder of the winter , “I like a wood fire!”. Rain showers persist as does towpath mud and the fire never dies.

Great Bedwyn? Well nice place to stay for a while, good rail service to Paddington and herself is off to satisfy another ambition and join with friends from on a bare boat sailing holiday in Turkey. Himself enjoys some peace and quiet; renews acquaintance with the local ringers and once the rain stops and the mud begins to dry a start on touching up the paintwork. After a while himself decides a five day break is fine but ten is maybe a little long. She is missed. As for herself......sailing????? Fantastic !!! And the Turkish Bath.....awesome “They should install one at the new Bath Spa!”.

So fourteen days later we set off again, ringing at Hungerford. Finest ring of 8 on the K&A according to herself; always a great practice too, ringing everything from Bob doubles to Surprise major and always learning something new. Pauses at Newbury, Woolhampton, Frobney and Reading and we are back on the Thames, this time turning right and new water as we head downstream towards our nation's capital. The weather has improved with the changing of the clocks. Spring really is here, Celandine and Blackthorn in flower,leaves bursting from buds and the surest sign of spring to helself is her first sight of the pale lilac of Ladies Smock. The Kennet as always at this time of year is lively, the wide Thames flows much more gently. Big locks manned by lock keepers to pass us through, magnificent waterside mansions and pastoral vistas, magnificent herself declares.

Now, you will not be surprised to know that this is not necessarily the view of all on board NB Avon Rose. We are not talking here of himself but a certain small hairy canine. For him boating is all about leaping off at locks with his man, indulging in the local olfactory delights and where locks are close together treading the towpath in the wake of the man. Large mechanised with lock-keepers means a dog is confined to the boat and has to wait nervously inside, unable to see much of what is going on. Needless to say, any carelessness on the part of the big people in closing the the back doors is immediately seized upon with a dash for freedom. Something else occurs in some places which we have not encountered before; mooring fees!

Even himself has to admit that the Lower Thames does have its delights. Henley, already preparing for the regatta, is a very pleasant mooring with easy access to the town. Approaching Windsor by river you get the best view of the castle. Pleasant Meadowside mooring at the Brocas (owned by Eton College – overnight mooring £6) and we take the opportunity to go into town to see the changing of the guard and visit the castle. It being Saint Georges tide the town is full of Souts and Scouters at the weekend annual Queen's Scouts parade. Her Majesty is at home but she declines to give us an audience; not that we asked. A refusal would have been too embarrassing.

A pause at Shepperton and a visit from friends We set off to give them a little river trip only to be hailed by a moored narrowboat at Church Square. Busted starter motor. Can we give him a tow back to the River Wey? Breast-up and off we go, its only a mile away. Breast up? Lash the boats side by side and drive as one. Upstream, so glad of the power of the Issuzu 42. Never had to work so hard. Well that's our good deed for the day.

On down the river to moor outside Hampton Court and another day spent visiting the gardens and the palace, facilities much improved since last we came. Cherry and apple blossom magnificent; daffodils coming to an end.And so today finds us sitting above Teddington Lock waiting for the tide. This is the upper limit of the tidal Thames and narrowboats, bound for the junction with the Grand Union Canal at Brentford, travel down just before high tide so as not to have to thrash against the surging currents. Herself passes the time with a bit of painting. Himself obviously by finishing the blog he now realises was started long ago. Must be having too much fun .

Simple......tzcht!

2010-03-21T16:46:00.002Z

Herself (muttering): “If I had my way we'd be halfway to Bristol now!”
Himself (likewise): “Hmmph....... There be dragons!”

Well, as you can gather from the above, we are finally on the move again, shaking the dust of Bath from our feet. Note dust, not mud! And it appears Herself has not convinced him that navigating down rivers in late winter could be fun.

The weather turned we have had some great sunshine and already the solar panels are earning their keep. A two day break away from the boat leaving domestic batteries at 30% charge and returned to find them fully charged. Wonderful.

And a lovely two day break it was. A train ride to Gloucester to see friends near Ross on Wye. Ringing of course at Monday night practice and the bonus of a trip to Hereford to see the Mappa Mundi and the chained library in the Cathedral. Another tick in Herselfs list of must-sees.

Now our friends have this lovely multi-fuel stove which was burning brightly with some well seasoned logs. Herself, forever observant of such things, notes the beautifully clear clean glass of the fire's doors and enquires how this is achieved. “Well” they say “wet piece of kitchen roll. Dip it in some of the course ash from the fire and rub it over the glass. Cleans it beautifully and keeping the fire drawing well keeps it clean.” Well on the boat keeping the fire drawing well means sauna conditions but himself, with a huge amount of scepticism decides to give it a go and........ easy! Accumulated gunk comes off like magic. No hard scrubbing........ simple; tzch! Chuck out the ceramic hob cleaner and scraper; they worked but not as easily as this.

On our last Sunday in Bath we accompanied the Bath District Ringers to Wells to ring for evensong at the cathedral.(another one not to miss). Heaviest ring of ten in the world I believe, tenor a mighty 56cwt. Front bells, long length of unguided rope and somewhat skittish but an interesting experience. A fond farewell from our ringing friends at the Abbey and after last night dinner, a final stock-up from Tesco Express on Bathwick Hill and we are cruising, retracing our steps eastward. (Perhaps that should be wake). And lo, as we set off, the clouds did gather and the heavens did open and the dampness (and mud) returned. But that's boating! First night at Dundas Aqueduct and now we rest at Bradford on Avon for the weekend. No need to hurry. The Caen Hill flight is closed till the 26th.

The problem with Bradford is that TV and radio signals are awful below the lock and as usual all berths above are taken. A “Freeloader” solar powered re-charger for iPods, mobile phones etc purchased from Oxfam in Bath is set up and put to use. The normal iPod charger does not draw enough current to keep the inverter active so the iPods have been flat for a while. As she wanders around the boat, plugged in and singing along in some strange oriental key, foot tapping and the occasional gyration added in, himself is heard to mutter, “I knew there was a reason I hadn't done this before.”

It's shiny....................!!!

2010-02-25T23:04:00.001Z

Well the ice did melt at last. Once it gets to four inches thick it is surprising how long it takes to thaw. Some bright spark had heaved two great blocks of concrete onto the ice, presumably in an attempt to break it and those blocks sat there for a week or more after the thaw started before they finally disappeared to the canal bed. Since then we have had alternating periods of cold,sunshine and wet; some snow that did not settle and just one morning last week when we had a thin skin of ice on the canal. During the big freeze our neighbours (the ducks) were very enterprising. There is a section of shallow canal surrounded by weed which they use as a public bath-house-cum-bar for ducks. It never froze because they took turns in swimming around to keep the water moving and ice free. They are very entertaining except when they start a bar brawl in the middle of the night!

Friday 29th January on chilly but sunny morning we gathered at Brookwood Cemetery near Woking to lay my Dad finally to rest. A pleasant spot we will return to later in the year with the family when his headstone has been erected. The tortuous drive through the lanes of the vast cemetery confirmed why the journey had not been possible in the heavy snowfall. It was a weekend on which we had already planned a trip home to attend the Ringers' annual dinner so an extra day's car hire and all was well.

All this ice and snow has meant an inevitable delay in the winter works on the canal. Caen Hill locks to Devizes will not now open until 27th March instead of the 13th. So we will stay in Bath for another fortnight before we start the 2010 cruising season. Preparations for departure are gradually being made; cruising plans formulated. A new tele aerial, as winter gales and constant putting up and down in the crusiing season have had their toll. The new one equally large, rather than a neat good looking job a girl would prefer to grace her boat; although she has come to the view that good reception for her daily dose of "Countdown" is worth the sacrifice of some elegance. Avon Rose is booked in at Bath Narrowboats for a pre-season service and battery check. We're also having the stern gland repacked (the seal that stops water seeping round the edges of the prop shaft where it comes through the hull if you're wondering).

Mooring lines and the centre rope are beginning to fray and to get past their best. Fine for mooring in the winter on still water, but when we start cruising and we start to put real loads on them we don't want the risk of a line parting at a critical moment. So himself decides to do his home work and source some new rope and whipping twine on-line. Fore and aft mooring lines he decides to go for 16mm three strand artificial hemp, similar to the current ones. Our centre line, the one we use when lock working to control the boat, is a braided rope which means it is a smooth line that will run freely round a bollard and won't snag when you use it to slow the forward motion of the boat. So himself finds a nice white, double braid, 16mm,polypropylene mooring line, UV resistant with excellent abrasion resistance. Perfect for the job. But yes dear reader, you have spotted his fatal error; herself had not been consulted. "I can't have that! It's shiny!" Hang the technical guff, breaking strains and all that abrasion stuff. A girl needs to be seen with a rope that looks good. "It'll have to go back!" So what does himself do? Right again dear reader. What he has always done over the years. A polite "Yes dear," and then ignore her.

The bulbs are coming up in Sydney Gardens. In less than three weeks it will be the vernal equinox, the official start of spring,and in four we're into "Summer (Daylight Saving) Time". Our winter hibernation is coming to an end, but the wet and mud persists. Soon it will be time for goodbyes and this year some thought for the question that is starting to raise it's head. "Do we want to spend another winter on the cut?"

Ice, snow and departing friends...

2010-01-16T14:17:00.002Z

It's been a long time since our last post, not because not much has happened but more because we have been occupied with other things. Through the rain and wet we did make it at last to our winter mooring and on 19th November our cruising year ended, as we moored at the spot we had vacated in January 2009; now having cruised 1,388 miles since our wanderings commenced back in September 2008. We had to move though; it's the trees you see. When a chap has solar panels on his roof and there are clear skies and bright sunshine a chap needs as much as he can get on his panels for some lovely "free" electricity. Trees, not being transparent are therefore something of a damper,so we moved a hundred yards nearer to Sydney tunnel to make the most of the sunshine and himself was nicely surprised by the amount of power we get on a clear winter's day. Chatty Dave down the cut reckons solar is the way to go and is looking to sell his wind turbine (needs a pretty stiff constant breeze to produce appreciable amounts of power he says).

Still lots of boats moored at this end of then cut as you would expect and interesting to see which boats we recognise from last winter. We quickly drop back into the routine of the more static boating life with the once weekly trip to fill the water tank and dispose of the unmentionable. We've also made use of the services of the lads at the boatyard to do one of the modifications we needed to make life easier. We had the leaking radiator in the bathroom removed and then the cassette toilet turned through 90 degrees, and a new hatchway made so that the cassette can be removed in the corridor. Where did it come out before? The bottom of the wardrobe in the bedroom; a real pain and not easy to get at. And now a bathroom with no radiator? No, it had two. One running off the central heating circuit and the other off the hot water heating circuit (calorifier, for the technically minded). Well with an owner fitted-out boat you must expect some eccentricities.

Good to renew our friendship with the Abbey ringers again and settle into regular ringing on Monday evenings and service ringing; although the climb up the tower had not got any easier. And....... they've turned our pub (The Rhummer) into an Italian wine bar/bistro thing!!!!!! So now Monday's after practice it's off to the Coer de Lyon; pints of Bellringer available here as well and still as good as we remember it. A Sunday routine of 9.15 Parish Communion at the Abbey followed by ringing for the 11 o'clock and then the ringers retire to Cafe Nero for coffee and cake; very civilised.

It's then that the wheels started to fall off things a bit. My Dad died on 18th December and the following week we had to have big dog, Micah put to sleep as things had got too much for the old boy and he had become doubly incontinent; not easy to cope with on a boat.
Thirteen is a good age for a lurcher and he'd had a good ten years with us, had enjoyed his boating but was finding it increasingly difficult to get about, wobbly legs, cataracts and hearing not as good as it used to be. We're now a one dog boat.

At 87 my Dad (a Chelsea Pensioner) had had a good innings too. He had recently had surgery to remove malignant tumours from his bladder. Pathology and further scans revealed it to be a rare aggressive malignancy that had spread to bone and resulted in a rapid decline with mercifully a relatively comfortable end.

Christmas was then a little subdued, but enjoyed non-the-less. Then it froze and we had snow and here we've been stuck unable to move for a fortnight. Ice about 3-4 inches thick in the end. We're down to the last inch of water in the water tank. Thank goodness the thaw has arrived.

Nothing stays the same. No matter how much we would like to resist it change is an inevitable part of life. Yet in difficulties there is often blessing, if only we would look for it. Not least the love and support we receive from those around us. I wonder what surprises 2010 has for us. One thing I know for certain, God is good.

It's all downhill from here.....

2009-11-19T18:03:00.003Z

“Our last uphill lock of the year!” herself observes....... with feeling. The wide locks on the K&A can be hard work, especially at the eastern end where the condition of some leaves a lot to be desired. Working through alone means the boat has to be held to the side to stop it being tossed around by the turbulence of the incoming water. As the steerer that's her job while himself draws paddles and applies his buttocks to gate balance beams. All this heavy manual work takes a lot out of a girl of tender years .So much so that the head nods and the eyes close as we tune into “Countdown” on Channel 4.

Downhill working for the steerer is easier as the boat will sit quietly, untethered as water drains out through the bottom gate paddles. As many of the locks on the K&A have to be left empty with a bottom paddle up (no by-wash to take excess water from above is the reason we presume) there's more for himself to do and passage can be slower. Our trip from Newbury to this summit lock No:55 above Crofton was not without incident, but yet again we are starting our story in middle.

We left Newbury on a reasonably sunny day and head for Kintbury, a place we had never yet rung at. A pleasant mooring above the lock and at the appointed hour we head for the tower where we receive a warm welcome.From Kintbury a short cruise to Hungerford for the weekend and more ringing on the excellent eight at S Laurence. This time renewing acquaintances and staying over for practice night on Wednesday. Himself is again invited to stand a quarter peal of Grandsire Triples for the evening service on the following Sunday (a wrong call before the last course loses the attempt but there was some lovely ringing). Thursday and we plan to take the short hop to Great Bedwyn where we will stay for the weekend, himself taking a one stop train ride back to Hungerford to ring in the quarter. But things don't go quite to plan.

About half way to Bedwyn, we are working through Froxfield Bottom Lock when himself, about to open the top gates notices they are padlocked together. Two of the Boys in Blue appear clutching a notice to put on the gates, “Sorry, there's a stoppage The pound above the flight has been accidentally drained.” They unlock the gates and let us through, but here we have to sit till the pound (almost a mile long) is re-watered. With a water shortage in the feeder lake this takes two days. As we were expecting to fill with water and use the sanitary station at Bedwyn that day things were getting desperate as we finally could move on!

The trouble it appears was a repeating theme around the waterways. Keen holiday boaters underestimating time by going further than they should and in the haste to get back to base failing to properly close lock paddles. The result, water continues to flow through the lock from the pound above and at the end of the night the pound only has half the water it should have. Easily done.

When finally we arrive its Sunday lunch at the Cross Keys and renew acquaintance with landlady Sue (ringer and boater) to go with them to Collingbourn Kingston for Monday's practice. Sadly not enough ringers left in Bedwyn for their own practice so they go elsewhere. Also while we are here we make use of the excellent train service from Bedwyn to Paddington to go and visit my Chelsea Pensioner Dad at The Royal Hospital.

On to Honey Street and a call at Gibson's Boat Services, Avon Rose's first mooring, to fill with diesel. George is pleased to see her again and comments on how good she is looking. It seems he is finally going to retire but banks are still not lending to small businesses so his prospective buyers are finding it impossible to get loans despite what the government says. Honey Street essential too for a visit to the sawmill and the purchase of load of beech logs to fuel our fire for the winter. All stowed on the roof and himself demands a visit to the Barge Inn for refreshment and a basket of cheesy chips. Aaah the pleasures of the boating life. The downs with their white horse above Honey Street are a magnet for walkers, all of which provides year round custom for the Barge. We determine that next time we come through we really must take a walk up.

The weather is wet and damp. Leaves round the prop call for bursts of reverse more often now. Mud on the towpath at Bradford on Avon and we wish small dog could walk on stilts. His undercarriage is too close to the ground and is a magnet for mud. The fire it lit everyday and now in our second winter we have learned to control it better. The problem in a boat is not too cold but too hot. It's very easy to stoke the fire up too much and end up having to open all the doors and windows to cool down. The chimney liner is working a treat; no brown tar runs over the roof and down the cabin side. From Avoncliffe Halt we take the short train ride into Bath for a bit of shopping. Its niceto be back wandering familiar streets. We have to say, a year on, this feels like home.

2009-10-21T22:21:00.003+01:00

“Now this is boating!” himself declares as we leave another of the Kennet and Avon's broad locks. After a brief sojourn at Abingdon Avon Rose continued down the Thames. An overnight mooring at Goring was approached with navigation lights blazing as dusk was falling. Evenings are getting chillier, leaves are turning and falling. It is decidedly autumnal; “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” to lovers of Keats. While at Abingdon a new chimney was fitted along with a liner. When a fire is kept in all the time tars from coal and wood condense inside the chimney and run down inside. Because the chimney fits over a collar on the roof this then tends to run onto roof and down the side of the boat making a mess of the paintwork. The solution is to fit a liner which fits inside the collar on the roof so that any tar runs down inside the collar and down the stove pipe. That's the theory anyway. So himself did the business with the liner, sealing the joint between the liner and the top of the chimney with heat resistant sealant to stop tar leaking down between liner and chimney. If it doesn't work its back to plan B, a wheeze imparted to us by another boater. Use old socks filled with absorbent “cat litter” to soak up what trickles onto the roof. The fire has been lit and so far so good!

“I like the Thames!” herself declares; a statement greeted with low mutterings from himself. Sitting comfortably in the cratch, reading or doing Soduko or knitting; gazing out over green water meadows, woodland and sumptuous home counties dwellings with gardens and lawns sweeping down to a river bank lined with skiffs, launches and “plastic” boats. A leisurely wave to passing walkers and weekend boaters. She's in her element. Standing for hours at the tiller cruising down a wide waterway every so often steering into a large lock chamber to hold a mooring rope belayed round a bollard while a cheery lock keeper pressed the buttons to do the business is not himself's idea of boating. Hence the broad grin on his face as the Kennet is reached and he steps onto the towpath, dog at his heels, windlass tucked in his belt to raise paddles, control water and apply his weight to balance beams. “It's all in the buttocks you know!”. The closeness of the surrounding countryside, the constant shifting of course to navigate bends and bridge holes, the sight of a jewelled kingfisher skimming over the water beside the boat, the interludes of physical activity in negotiating locks and swing bridges. “This is boating!”

Between Reading and Newbury the Kennet and Avon Canal is, strictly speaking, the Kennet Navigation. The fast flowing River Kennet having been made navigable in the 1720's by the construction of weirs and locks and the insertion of stretches of artificial canal where the river channel was not suitable for the passage of the wide-beam boats that would ply their trade down to the Thames and London. The waterway was noted for its large turf-sided locks, cheaper to build than a brick or stone lined lock. The bottom of the chamber lined with wooden shuttering and the upper part a sloping turf bank. With a good flow of water down river, even in summer, the greater volume of water they used was not the problem it would have been on an artificial canal. Two of these turf sided locks still exist at Garston Lock and Monkey Marsh Lock. In other places they have had chambers reconstructed with steel piling or brick lined chambers have been created. The result is that locks on this section only have gate paddles on the uphill gates to admit water rather than ground paddles..With ground paddles sluice gates are built into the lock wall above the gates admitting water through and underground culvert into the lock chamber and water enters the lock below the water surface pushing up under the boat. With a gate paddle a jet of water comes through the gate and pours down into the lock chamber until the lock is almost half full and the opening is covered by the ring water. They create much more turbulence and, without care, water can cascade into the front well deck swamp a boat.

At Reading we moor in the loop in the navigation next to the Abbey ruins and Reading gaol (famous as the place Oscar Wilde was incarcerated). “We like Reading,” it had been decided. A two day stay and a chance to replenish our stores. The sun shines. field maple, sycamore and horse chestnut are showing their autumn colours and the need for a quick burst of reverse to clear the prop of a bolus of fallen leaves are sure signs of the turn of the year. Yet this is some of the best weather we have had for some time. Overnight stops at Theale and Woolhampton and here we are in Newbury; another place “we like”. We are in “home” waters

A Year On

2009-10-02T22:51:00.002+01:00

Well that's it. We've completed our first year as "Grey Nomads", as a friendly antipodean informed me the other day as we sat on opposing balance beams waiting for the lock to empty. A new tenant in the house signed up for 12 months and preliminary plans made for another season's cruising must mean, year two here we come. Herself, forever with an eye out for a bargain, is feeling very smug, having picked up three carpet offcuts in Stone for a bargain price and has re-carpeted the whole boat ready for the new season.

But once more we are getting ahead of ourselves. When last you heard we were about to face the ordeal of the Wigan flight. Wigan flight? Piece of cake, don't understand what all the fuss is about. Horrendous they may have been once, but to be honest we have had to work harder on the K&A. Paired with another boat and with our nephew to expand our crew we made a good passage as the first boats down that day. The BW lock-keeper was there to see us on our way and send some water down to fill a shallow pound (local lads swimming the previous evening messing with the paddles).

At Wigan our nephew took the train back home, taking Micah with him! Big dog was going on his holidays; herself having decided that to leave our son to cope with the boat and both dogs while we swanned off to Cornwall for our holiday would be too much. Yes we know we're permanently on holiday; but a change is as good as a rest.

On to the Bridgewater Canal and once we are are through to Manchester we are back onto water we cruised when we first bought into Scimitar, our shared ownership boat. That was 12 years ago.

An interesting stop at Worsley, the place where the Duke of Bridgewater built his canal to serve his mines, the start of the canal mania of the 18th century. Picture box scenes hard to reconcile with what at that time must have been a harsh industrial landscape. The works beside the canal now a public park. Only the base of the works chimney left, converted into a monument to the age. Through Preston Brook tunnel and a queue for Dutton Stop lock as we once more join the Trent and Mersey Canal.

Last time we passed this way the Anderton Boat Lift that transports boats from the T&M to the river Weaver below was a rusting hulk awaiting restoration; the visitor centre a converted transport container in the car park. Now this marvel of Victorian engineering is fully restored and operational with a modern visitor centre and museum. Cruising on to the Weaver held no attraction for us and so we travelled down on the trip boat rather than take Avon Rose down just to come straight back up again. Interesting how much housing has sprung up around the canal in the environs of Middlewich since last we were here. Also we had forgotten how pleasant this upper end of the T&M is.

Up "Heartbreak Hill" to the Harecastle tunnel and we have now completed the navigation of the entire length of the Trent and Mersey this year,albeit in two episodes. And are we glad we were not here a week before as we hear tales of 3 hour queues for locks. It seems the stoppage half way up the Shroppie because of a massive leak on an embankment has forced more traffic onto the T&M.

So we arrive at Stone, south of Stoke on Trent and the aforementioned acquisition of carpet, fitted during a pause for a week. We leave the T&M at Fradley Junction for the Coventry Canal and a steady and uneventful cruise to the Oxford canal and a rendezvous at Napton on the Hill with our son where we drive off,courtesy of Enterprise hire cars' for a week in Cornwall. Sun, sand, castles pasties and delightful company; a change is as good as a rest. Also the excuse for the long period since our last post to this blog.

We are now back on the Thames at Abingdon where Ed killing time. We have arranged winter moorings in Bath once more; December through to the end of February. British Waterways' winter maintenance programme has been published and we will have a leisurely cruise through to our temporary winter home, ensuring that we don't get stranded by the scheduled stoppages. But for now, there's boating to do.

2009-08-21T16:08:00.006+01:00

I cannot believe that it’s a month since we last posted, but in our defence we had the call of land based distractions. Our tenant moved out of the house and we had to return home to sort things out. These forays into the land of the housebound have their good points and not so good. Good to catch up with friends. Not so good when herself has her worst fears about the state of her garden confirmed. Aah well, all things have a price. Also in the interval we have passed the thousand mile mark since leaving Hartford Marina last September.

When last we reported we had just acquired an expensive piece of wood, the Calder and Hebble handspike. So armed we headed off downstream on the said navigation. It’s here that our 57 foot long boat lived up to its “go anywhere” label. If we had shared locks going downstream with a boat of similar length we would not have been able to open the inward pointing mitre gates; on our own it required a diagonal shuffle. The C & H has a strange mixture of paddle gear. No two locks the same in dimensions it seemed as well as gear. Almost looked as though they bought up a mixed lot and fitted whatever came to hand. Canalised sections are protected by flood locks on the upstream end all of which were open at both ends as river levels were normal. And the expensive piece of wood? There was really only one lock where it was absolutely essential as most locks had paddle gear of some sort at each end that was operated with a standard windlass! Herself will remember the C & H as the place where what started as a terrible sore throat and was possibly the swine flu, laid her low and we holed up while she took to her bed. And no, this was not followed by an epidemic of man flu! Rusty old boaters are made of stronger stuff.

Near Castleford a sharp left onto the Aire and Calder navigation. When we came this way some 20 years ago this was still a commercial waterway with 90ton craft carrying gravel, coal and oil. Its huge locks (120 feet by 18 feet) manned by lock keepers who controlled these mechanised giants from their tower lookout using traffic light to communicate with the boater and communicating with each other on progress of traffic; so the gates opened as if by magic as you approached. Along with the commercial traffic the lock keepers have disappeared and boaters operate for themselves from control panels at each end. For himself, perched on the hatches, this wide waterway is merely a corridor to somewhere else with its high banks thickly clothed with willow obscuring any view of what lays beyond. Having said that, the mooring above Lemroyd lock, with its new marina and neatly mown grass, was delightful on a warm sunny evening, with pleasant walks through the adjacent wooded countryside. It’s a popular spot with the locals.

You want to send herself into raptures of delight? Take her to a mooring with electric hook-up. She can dry her hair and Hoover to her hearts content without himself fretting about the state of charge of his batteries. She’s in seventh heaven! And where is this boating Nirvana to be found? Why the newly re-opened Clarence Dock in Leeds. As we approached Leeds it was as we remembered it, with crumbling Victorian mill buildings, but once you approach Leeds Lock at the head of the navigation the scene has been transformed, with mills and warehouses delightfully converted to apartments and the once derelict waterfront restored to a living community. The Royal Armouries Museum right beside the dock provided a pleasant interlude from boating and with a Tesco Express just round the corner to cater for your household needs, this is a superb stopping place to explore the centre of the city. Fortunately for the communal purse, herself was still not the full mustard so even retail therapy was beyond the limit of her stamina.

Now we have reached the ultimate objective in our cruising season, the Leeds and Liverpool Canal, with its broad 62 foot long locks for the short boats that used to ply their trade here. Staircase locks are a feature as well, where the top gate of one chamber is the bottom gate of the next. Unlike Foxton staircases on the Grand Union, where the chambers are emptied or filled from side ponds, the water here is got from the chamber above or emptied into the one below so the whole staircase needs to be set differently depending on whether you are travelling up or down hill. Most have lock keepers to help those confused by this but also to ensure that the precious water supply is not wasted. Above Leeds they are also there for the safety of boaters. “Don’t stop at Kirkstall!” is the word. Vandalism is a curse; handcuff keys to unlock paddle gear the norm. Sunny afternoons and young men with cans of beer seek entertainment on the cut!
At Bingley we reach the limit of our previous cruise on this waterway the foot of the Bingley three rise followed by another of the wonders of the waterways, the majestic Bingley five rise.Five great chambers leading one into the next as you climb sixty feet up the hillside. Himself assists the lock-keeper rather than the other way round. It’s a delight to watch an expert at work. A man who knows just whereto position a single boat, just how much water from which paddle to keep it pinned motionless, not a drop wasted over spill weirs. And the view from the top: stunning.

Girls lunching on pie and peas, champion black puddings, it must be Skipton. The cruise here from Bingley with views over dales and fell tops and we consider revising our opinion about the Peak Forrest Canal being the most beautiful stretch on the waterway. When we finally leave Skipton we know that for us, the meandering length from Gargrave to East Marton cannot be surpassed for natural beauty. Skipton is where our nephew comes to join us to care for dogs and boat again as we make use the services of Enterprise car hire to return home to attend to the move of our tenant. From here we meander through those once great mill towns of Nelson, Colne and Burnley on the journey to that former cotton capital of Lancashire; the home of Rovers. (Just don’t mention the opening home match of the season; Rovers 0, Man City 2!). Industrial archaeology there is in abundance.

Now a certain bony dog is definitely starting to show his age. On a morning walk he will come to a dead stop and look round longingly at the boat, “I want to go back!” A manoeuvre repeated many times in the past, boat slows close to towpath where the canal narrows under a bridge, dog and handler skip nimbly onto the counter, this time ends in a dunking. The front legs make it but the back ones don’t and he slides backwards into the cut. As we cruise along he likes to stand at the back of the boat, nose to wind, indulging in olfactory delights known only to dogs. This day we hear a yelp, a faint plop, turn round, “Dog overboard!” Engine in reverse as a dog ,who appears to have just walked off the back of the boat, strikes out for the shore! With the aid of a lead lent by an astonished passer by, he is coaxed to a conveniently positioned ramp placed in the wall of the canal by the builders to aid the rescue of boat horses who had fallen in. As the edges are shallow we cannot get close enough to the bank to retrieve our shore-bound pair so have to lay out the gangplank to get them aboard. Life is never dull afloat. The intrepid hairy mutt, not to be outdone has also once more taken an impetuous leap for shore so as to be first off and ended up belly flopping and swimming back and forth until he could be hauled out by the scruff of his neck.

While we were heading for home Simon, from RunbytheSun, delivered the solar panels we ordered at the Crick show. A better than expected demand had meant that stock had run out so we had to wait until more units had been manufactured. Two 60 watt panels delivering a max of 8.6 amps to reduce our need to run the engine when at rest and to increase our green credentials. Himself spent a pleasant morning fixing brackets, making connections and staring at the charge controller to see how they performed. Well it must be Ohm’s brother Murphy at work here; the amount of cloud cover and rain is directly proportional to the amount of solar power you think you are going to generate. It’s the middle of August for heavens sake! But joy oh joy, when the sun does come out, they deliver their full potential. But himself was able to confirm the truth that solar alignment is crucial for full power. In the early morning sun moving from flat on the roof to angled to the sun doubled the output. Midday sun, angled (22 degrees) and turned southward they delivered the full specified 8.6 amps. In this uncertain weather 30 aH is the best we have produced so far – enough to power the fridge and water pump all day.

As we leave Blackburn a lunch at the Boat House in Riley Green and then the cruise down the seven Johnson’s Hillock locks with Excalibur to be greeted in the last chamber by one of those prize Lancashire cloud bursts. Over in a few minutes, but you are soaked through all the same. now we face the delights of the infamous Wigan Flight; 23 locks descending over 200 feet in less than two miles. Not only heavy mitred gates but also all paddle gear (six sets on each lock) locked with handcuff keys as an anti vandal measure. We will only do 21 as we take a left to head for Manchester and the Bridgewater Canal. We’ll let you know if they live up to their reputation for a miserable and gruelling passage!

Longest, Highest, Deepest.

2009-07-21T12:15:00.002+01:00

Show me a man who greets passers by with a cheery “’ Mornin’ “ at 2pm and I’ll show you a man who hasn’t had his lunch. Late lunches on the move have been the order of the day. Shallow canals mean good moorings are hard to find so the day’s boating also tends to be a bit longer than usual.

“You dropped off again?”
“I was only having forty……well a hundred winks,” herself declares.
“I’ve opened 21 locks and walked 5 miles today!” himself responds.
“Well then,” she says,”no wonder I’m tired!”

From this gay badinage you may gather that our intrepid pair are on top form. Well not quite. Herself is still troubled with pains in the right side from her strained muscles/trapped nerve? Some days OK, others not; one consolation, ”It’s not stopping her sleeping!”

Rain showers there have been; some light, some heavy but none, thank goodness, quite like the stair-rods of that first day on the Macclesfield canal. After the Bosely flight of locks we continue lock free on the Mac with its elegant stone turnover bridges to Marple and take a right onto the Upper Peak Forest Canal to Bugsworth Basin. We recalled this as a quiet spot; not so now with the Whaley Bridge bypass close by. This remarkably restored set of basins, so rural and green, hard to imagine the smoke, dust and grime of the place in it’s working heyday, with it’s constantly burning limekilns and rattling tramway trucks bringing limestone down the inclined plane from the quarries. A hard life for the horse boater; a far cry from our leisurely boating life. A pleasant day spent connecting what we see on the ground with the sometimes ambiguous descriptions in the information literature.

In the terminal basin at Whaley Bridge a man with his radio controlled boat has to steam out of our way as we wind (boater speak for turn round ). A chat with him once we have moored as he is firing up a live steam powered launch. Himself parks her in a tea shop as he takes the fifteen minute walk up the main street to Coleman’s butcher .What a man will do to lay his hands on serious award winning black pudding and sausages!

For scenery you can’t beat the Upper Peak Forest Canal. It wanders high up on the limestone hillside giving views over the Goyt valley to the Derbyshire High Peaks. From Whaley Bridge you can see up to Kinder Scout and Edale Moor. “I want a view!” she says; and we find one, a convenient gate so we can see through the towpath hedge as we sit in the evening sun in the fore well deck. A rare spot with enough depth by the bank to avoid having to use the gangplank to bridge the gap between boat and shore.

Back to the Junction with the Mac at Marple and we start down the Lower Peak Forest with the 16 lock Marple flight, which along with the Bosely locks on the Mac are one of the most delightful flights of locks on the system. Now one of the joys of this way of life is the delightful people you meet, like young Oliver, his Dad and little sister Poppy. They had passed the locks many times by car but had decided that at last they must stop and have a closer look. Oliver helps with opening the gates as himself points out and explains the remnants of the horse boating days. What nicer way to spend a sunny morning than in pleasant conversation while boating.

At the junction with the Ashton canal we take another right and head for the Huddersfield Narrow Canal. Now this is not a place for the feint hearted. Seventy four locks in the space of twenty miles as you climb over the Pennines and at the summit, the awesome Standendge tunnel, all 3miles 418yards of it; 17 years in the building, the longest tunnel on the system, the highest at 645 feet above sea level and the deepest being a maximum of 638 feet beneath the highest point of the moor above. This is serious boating. The restoration of this unique waterway is a tribute to the enthusiasm and perseverance of the Huddersfield Canal Society. But for them it would have been lost for ever.

As you enter the canal at lock 1W, you get the distinct feeling that not many boats travel this way. No canal side gardens with boats moored at the bottom of them here. It’s not until we are moored at Stalybridge that we meet our first boat. Now Stalybridge has embraced the canal and made a feature of the restored section through the town centre. Only thing that’s lacking is boats, instead it has litter; shame.

Along the length of the canal the remains of the once proud mills of the woollen textile industry that was the heart and soul of these valleys. At Uppermill (once a center of weaving, now a tourist hotspot with the Saddleworth Moor towering above it) a visit to the Museum beside the canal helps us understand the past life of this district. Now we can spot the hand loom weavers houses with their rows of mullioned windows on the top floor to provide maximum light for the weaver.

Shallows make the journey to Diggle and the Tunnel, shall we say, interesting. Our passage through the tunnel was booked well in advance, only three boats in each direction are allowed on each of Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The tunnel is only partially lined, with many sections of natural rock very narrow and not entirely straight, in the middle an S bend where the tunnellers working from each end missed each other by 23 feet. We are met by our British Waterways chaperones, one for each boat to point out, as we progress though, where the hazards and tight spots are. The gauging stick comes out and Avon Rose’s vital statistics are checked to ensure she will fit in the profile of the tunnel. There are in fact four tunnels; two single and one double track railway tunnel as well as the canal tunnel, all joined by connecting side tunnels. One hour forty minutes of intense concentration from himself sees us through, pauses every so often for our man to report via intercom in a connecting tunnel our progress. Herself sitting in the cratch nursing a very nervous small dog probably saw more than himself who now knows all about tunnel vision; although he did get taken up into one of the disused railway tunnels for a look. In contrast to the canal tunnel, tall, cavernous, completely lined and dead straight, the small semicircle of light clearly visible at each end.

On emerging we have to wait until the next day to descend the first 21 locks to Slaithwaite. Chronic water shortages on this east side mean we have to be chaperoned down by the boys in blue, only one paddle being used to empty locks to ensure that water is not lost over bywashes in a sudden surge of an emptying lock. Sunday and we take a rest day and enjoy the friendship of the folk of the parish church of Saint James.

And so the descent of the final 21 locks and the remarks recorded at the beginning of this posting. Here we are in Huddersfield and on the Huddersfield Broad Canal. Soon we will be on the Calder and Hebble Navigation and require a Calder and Hebble handspike to operate lock paddles, an item not dissimilar to capstan bars used on old sailing ships. “Most expensive piece of wood you’ll buy!” said the nice lady in the chandlery at Aspley Basin.

From Four Feet Away...........?

2009-07-07T21:47:00.002+01:00

“From four foot way it looks great”, the Sage declared. ”If you want a perfect looking boat, don’t go boating.” You see, not only was it the wrong red but herself was not keen on the yellow either; the yellow coach lines on the cabin sides that is. Ivory is much better. So it’s back to Cut Signs for vinyl lining tape and semicircular corners. Problem is lining tape is uniform in width while hand painted lines are not, so we have a hint of yellow appearing around the new ivory lines, hence the Sage’s remarks; and he’s right. Looks fine viewed from 4 foot away and himself had to agree ivory looks better than the yellow, no matter how traditional yellow with green and red might be. Himself of course had a very self satisfied smile on his face, having just removed the last of the masking tape from his newly decorated cratch board, traditional diamond patterns. We have to agree it looks quite good.

And no, we haven’t spent the last two weeks beautifying our floating home, there has been some serious boating as evidenced by the remark of another Sage, “Look at all that lovely blacking you’ve been rubbing off!” Now waterways in cities we been through, Bath, Reading and Oxford have been teaming with boats, so it’s something of a surprise as we head northward through Leicester, a broad waterway with ornate bridges and canal side well furnished with mooring bollards to find………none. Well not quite, there were four on a secure pontoon mooring protected by a locked gate at Castle Gardens in the city centre. The anti-vandal locks on paddle gear and crude graffiti on all balance beams and bridge sides should, we suppose have given a clue. The pontoon was only 50 meters long and as evening was approaching we asked “Wandering Star” if we could moor alongside them (everyone else seemed to have disappeared into the city for the evening). We are of course now on the River Soar which like the Nene is susceptible to flooding and strong stream warnings after not much rain. Saturday night and we wander into the city centre and find a very pleasant bistro where unlike elsewhere we do not feel like Methuselah and his wife.

It’ Sunday morning and a hire boat has moved on so we can back up into the space they vacated. We attend Mass at Saint Mary de Castro close by where the local archdeacon preaches a “challenging “ sermon on the eve of an interregnum. This is sadly one of those inner city Anglo-Catholic parishes which in its introspection seems to have lost its way and appears to be dying on its feet. The sad thing is it needn’t be thus.

The River Soar to the north of Leicester passes through some lovely country and its noticeable how the density of boats rapidly increases the further we get from the city. This is the posh side of town. Flood locks installed to control water flows all have gates at both ends open so we sail straight through and water level markers on the exit from other locks are all well in the green zone.

An overnight stop in Loughborough to replenish supplies and utilize a convenient launderette. Our Zanusi studio washing machine is fine for everyday things but when it comes to the bed linen its more convenient to take everything we have to a launderette and get it dried all in one go!

And then we reach the vast width of the mighty Trent, water we have cruised before on the occasion, some years ago, when we famously went to a baptism in Nottingham by boat. Derewent Mouth and we are back on the cut, our old friend the Trent and Mersey which we have travelled before from end to end. At this end Shardlow is a canal historian’s delight. Once a centre of canal activity it has retained many of canal side warehouses from the days of the corn trade. Once we reach Burton (another town that appears to largely ignore its canal) we are back to narrow gauge locks and easier work for the boatman. The weekend again and this time in the lovely village of Alrewas,a favourite stopping point when we had a share in Scimitar and were based up the cut at Fradley junction. No ringing, work being done on the tower but once more the delight of an inspiring natural preacher, no notes, Just stand and tell it out. By chance it’s Alrewas’s “Open Gardens” weekend.

Now if you have one specimen tree in your garden we have found the one it needs to be. As we continue our northward journey we pause at Great Haywood at the junction of the T & M and the Staffs & Worcs, mooring opposite Shugborough Hall now in the care of the National Trust. The weather is delightful so herself decides a visit to the gardens is a must, dogs on leads are allowed so off we set. (We have visited the house on previous visits). We turn the corner and there is this amazing sight. A large shrub some 12 to 15 feet high covered (and I mean covered) in what appear to be four white flowers about two inches across with four petals, those on the top showing an amazing reddish pink flush. Closer inspection shows the petals are in fact bracts and the actual flower is small and green at the centre of these. We walk on, see the gardener and as himself approaches him he (the gardener) declares “Cornus kousa var. chinensis, Chinese Dogwood.” We are obviously not the first to ask. This is Jo Hawkes, 18 years as gardener at Shugborough. Apparently the flowers appear in May. As the season progresses they take on this pink flush. The fruit then appears, which is red and strawberry like followed by spectacular red autumn leaves. In Rugby himself had wiled away the hours chatting to Leaping Frog (you tend to know people by the name of their boat) who had been extolling he joys of National Trust volunteer working parties. Jo encourages to think about mooring up as we pass on our travels and spending a couple of days gardening with him. It’s tempting.

The weather has been glorious. We progress onto Stone, another favourite stopping point and thence on through the Harecastle tunnel (a 40 minutes passage).Then a left and a right to get us on the the Macclesfield ,another favourite canal with elegant stone bridges and rolling pastoral scenes as we head towards the Peak Forest national park. Now the weather has changed and we have frequent rain showers. This is none of your woosey southern rain. This is the stuff rodents asphyxiate in (come on; think about it). Himself on the back in the hatches, umbrella up, back doors closed behind him still getting soaked by the spray. You don’t have to ask were she is!

It's the Wrong Pitch

2009-06-21T13:10:00.002+01:00

Now all you cricket, rugby and football fans may rabbit on about the state of pitches but for the serious boater if we are talking pitches we are talking propellers. Pitch is the theoretical distance in inches that one complete revolution of the propeller will move the boat through the water. Sizes of propellers are designated by diameter and pitch. The combination of boat length/weight, engine and gearbox determines the ideal propeller. Now after we had the Perkins replaced with the new Isuzu engine things were different. Just put her into gear and she surges forward. It's like driving your car in top gear all the time. With the engine just at tick-over she's off like a rocket - well a 2mph rocket to be precise. Which was manageable but not ideal, coming in to moor and following other boats could at times be...... interesting? So himself gets smurfing on the internet and declares,"It's the wrong pitch!" Herself looks at him blankly; “What is he on about now?”

Well, those who have been paying attention will now see the connection with where we left our story. Boat coming out of the water for blacking, let’s get the propeller looked at. The received wisdom is that the ideal for our current set up is an 18 inch with a 14 inch pitch and it turns out what we have is a 19 inch by 19 inch. So off we trot, old prop in hand, to see the nice man at Midland Chandlers down the cut to see if we can do a trade. “Haven’t got an 18 by 14 in stock; can’t get one till the middle of next week.”
“Anything second hand?” A search out the back and a 19 by 13 is found. “We’ll take it.” A hundred pounds for our old prop and we have a deal. And on re-launch? Fantastic, just as it should be, drives us well through the water and glide nicely at tick over.
To get us out of the water, two trolleys running on rails in the slip way were let down into the canal and the boat floated onto them. A JCB then pulls us up the slipway, a set of stairs is placed alongside the bows and we live in a house in the clouds, an interesting experience. As the centre of the boat is now unsupported it’s like walking on a scaffold plank. The steel flexes a bit and sitting in my chair as herself walks past I perceptibly bounce up and down ever so slightly; very odd.

Pressure wash and two coats of Premium Protection, lovely. Nice sunny weather, the perfect time for us to tidy up the rest of the paintwork on the hull, the red and white flashes on the stern and the bow decoration. Also very convenient for installing the new bow and stern fenders that we bought from Fenderman in Bath and that have until now been stacked in the cockpit. Herself has always said, “That red is too red!” A somewhat darker tone was thus also applied to bow , cratch board, cabin front and the counter. We have to say she is a very smart looking boat.

With one thing and another there has been a lot of hanging about of late. It’s time to do some boating. We head back to Rugby to meet some old friends as they start a week’s holiday on a hire boat from Viking Marine. It was lovely to see them and catch up with all the family news. With old friends you just seem to pick up where you left off, almost as though you had never been apart. So back to Braunston for church on Sunday and then the two boats, Harald and Avon Rose, work up the Braunston flight as we head for the Leicester Arm of the Grand Union Canal and Foxton Locks, the busiest piece of waterway on the system.

A pleasant interlude but not without incident. Himself at the tiller guiding the boat gently towards the bank to moor above bridge 60. Herself walking confidently along the tow-path side gunwale towards the bow where she bends down and disappears from his view to pick up the bow rope he assumes. A pause....... was that the sound of a large fish leaping ? He leans over to peer over the side to espy herself doing a very elegant back-stoke towards the stern! She had no idea how she got there; perhaps the nice glass of white wine had something to do with it? A rapidly removed mobile phone battery, careful drying and a night in the airing cupboard and thankfully her phone is still OK but unfortunately another pair of glasses sacrificed to the water nymphs abiding in the silt of the cut! Thank goodness for a spare pair, she’s hopeless without them. All is forgotten with a good meal in the Boat Inn.

Next day we say goodbye to our friends as they start on the return journey to Rugby. We have to wait for an hour for our turn to head down the two sets of five staircase locks, the place heaving with school parties learning about the waterways. So on to the Market Harborough branch and a night at Market Harborough Wharf where we replenish supplies, make use of the Post Office and replenish our supply of reading material. At the Foxton Junction we turn northward towards Leicester, this is new water for us. Very rural, the canal seems to shun all signs of habitation. It’s back to broad locks again and we are told vandalism means paddle gear in the approaches to Leicester will be padlocked. Serious boating now as we aim for the Leeds and Liverpool.

Two Old Codgers

2009-06-02T22:17:00.003+01:00

It is becoming increasingly obvious to us both, that bits break more easily and take longer to mend than they used to in young people of our age. Maybe it’s all this global warming; greater exposure to sunshine, like plastic is making us more brittle. Himself seems to have recovered from the back problem. It’s just that he has more permanently numb bits in his legs than he had before. The problem now is that the left thigh muscle has wasted a bit and needs building up. Poor old chap can’t get about as quickly as he used.

With the extra manual labour herself appears to have pulled an intercostal muscle so is very pleased that she is no longer required for blue jobs. Her mild allergy to wheat also seems to be manifesting itself in other ways. Such things ought not to happen to people of such tender years. I blame the government; they seem to be messing everything else up.

So here we are at Braunston, on the eve of the great bottom blacking adventure. Yes you are correct; it has taken us two weeks to travel all of 35 miles. Hilmorton locks successfully negotiated with no ill effects, although we did note that the boatman walked to the top gate to cross to close the bottom mitre gate rather than leap across from the closed one as he used. Perhaps he is learning the caution of age!

But we get ahead of ourselves; chronology never was our strong point. To the north of Rugby lies the lovely village of Brinklow. The Foss Way runs down through the village, although at this point it is today only a minor road and through the centre of the village merely a footpath across an open field where, along side it, rises an earthen mound, once the site of a castle, built to protect the Foss. The canal (the Northern Oxford) passes through a somewhat unstable cutting to the East of the village and thence turns eastward through All Oaks wood where Cathiron Lane from Brinklow runs alongside the canal for about a mile. A delightfully peaceful rural mooring just before the bend, where a picnic spot is conveniently served by a small car park beside the canal. Now the quick witted among you will have realised that canny boaters are not slow in taking advantage of such fortuitous circumstances and we rate ourselves amongst those. Once more we utilise the services of Enterprise Car Rentals, those lovely people who, as part f the service, will come and collect you and bring you back (by taxi this time) when you take out and return your hire car. And with special weekend offers, £55 for a four day hire over the Late May holiday weekend seemed very reasonable to us, especially as for that we got a 2009 Nissan Micra with all the bells and whistles (automatic lights and wipers, reversing sensors, climate control).

“Now,” you say “what are they up to now? What they want a car for this time?” Well the waterways savy will know that the late spring bank holiday is the time of the Crick boat show. Crick is only a few miles from Rugby on the Leicester arm of the Grand Union canal, which runs parallel to the Oxford. Crick is the major narrow boat show of the year, a great place to see the latest boats from all the major builders and suppliers of everything from stoves, to rope, to brass cleaner. The original plan had been to moor at Hilmorton and take the 15 minute bus ride to Crick, but at that stage himself was still only walking with the aid of his trusty laminated walking stick and expecting to walk from the village to the show site and then walk round the show all day was, shall we say, a little foolhardy. So, car hire, problem sorted.

One of the main reasons for going was to look at solar panels. Herself is very fond of using electricity but not so fond of the means of making it. On days when we are not going anywhere, we still need to run the engine for a couple of hours each day to recharge the domestic batteries; keeping the fridge freezer going being the major source of concern. “Can’t you turn that engine off yet?” comes the irritable cry from the armchair in the cratch (the noise has disturbed her mid afternoon snoozelet). So we are looking for a system that, in the summer months, will mean we don’t have to run the engine. And success, the lovely Simon from “Run by the Sun Ltd” has an ideal twin panel 120 watt system to suit our needs, which with the show discount we get a better deal than we have seen elsewhere. Himself will have to find something else to spend hours of surfing to research.....”What you looking at now?!?!!!!”, her dulcet tones drift shrilly across the quiet evening air.

There has also been some creativity in this interlude. Himself has been indulging in a bit of primitive art and done a bit of decoration on the Buckby can, which can now sit proudly on the roof, full of water, ready to water the flower and herb tubs on the roof. With some trepidation, an afternoon with wet and dry paper, we have erased the previous owners name from the starboard cabin side and, using a stencil prepared for us by “Cut-Signs” we have emblazoned our own name. We decided to use stencils rather than just getting vinyl lettering so we could match the colours of the original. We have to say that our colour mixing skills are not bad and the result is very passable. Now for the other side............

Inactivity...........................???

2009-05-15T21:27:00.002+01:00

“You still doing all the work?”
“Yes,” she says, raising eyes to heaven.
“You need to trade him in for a newer model.” Such is the advice of chattering classes on the towpath.
“I’m in me prime,” he wails “It’s only a temporary dysfunction. I’m not ready for the knacker’s yard yet!”
“I’m fed up with you being useless.”
“Shut up; or I’ll poke you with me stick!”

Such outbursts would never, of course, ever be heard in tranquil environs of the Avon Rose. Herself stoically soldiers on. Blue Jobs, Pink jobs, she takes them all in her stride; calling on the nursing skills of the past (himself rather enjoyed the bed bath). She’s the heroine of the cut.

[A note to the uninitiated: In certain households jobs are defined as blue, pink or purple on the lines of gender. On the cut dealing with sanitary arrangements, fetching and carrying (donkey work) things mechanical, tricky navigational manoeuvres and suchlike are definitely blue!]

As you can gather from the above, the problem with his back has been a bit more severe than he has had for many a year. Sitting is OK, the problem has been in standing, walking and laying flat. But slowly, slowly he continues to improve and has at last had a full night’s sleep. He’s at that dangerous point again, when you start to think you are nearly OK and one careless move can lead to a serious setback.

So in the four weeks since we arrived at the head of the Ashby, there may not have been much boating but it has not been without activity (herself says, ”What do you mean? It’s been all go for goodness sake.”) He was able to sit and drive, so a hire car and a visit to family was still possible. Enterprise Car Hire is brilliant for boaters as they will come and pick you up and take you to their depot to get your car. The deck furniture (boat hook, poles, gang plank and cradle) were all looking sad and weathered so another sitting down job and he has refurbished them in the house colours. We indulge in Sunday Lunch at the Globe, the lovely landlady (“How’s his back”) reserves us a table in the lounge so himself doesn’t have to negotiate the stairs down into the dining room. We’ve had a flying visit from intrepid biker friends, as they pass by on their way to a rally in Wales.

All being well, we should be on the move again sometime after the weekend for a very leisurely cruise back to Braunston for our scheduled bottom blacking!

A Tale of Aerials and Osteothingies

2009-04-27T17:51:00.003+01:00

There is, we are discovering, a natural rhythm to this boating life. Periods of intense boating activity are interspersed with periods of staying put and mixing with them "English" (You need to be a lover of Harrison Ford's film "Witness" to get the derivation of this boating term . The discerning reader will,of course, also have noted that that the phrase "staying put" is not in any way connected with a phrase denoting "inactivity". Well at least, not while you have a Granny on board!

While speaking of the more mature woman, it is interesting to note how you can bring immense pleasure to her life by the mere purchase of a shiny six foot aluminium pole and a brass deck socket. "What is the old fool on about now!" you cry. Well if a boatman is to get a bit of piece and quiet in the day, herself needs to be provided with her daily dose of "Countdown" each afternoon at four (together of course with tea and cake). (As an aside, herself has declared that the girl Rachael is every bit as good as the Voordman with the numbers -the wardrobe is visibly smaller. If you are not a watcher of Countdown this will mean nothing to you and all we can say is............... "Get a Life!") To continue..... if this can be provided the Boatman is guaranteed some peace and quiet; provided that is the snores are coming in on his deaf side - the mature woman has perfected the art of "dropping off" in the afternoon. "And where is all this leading," you ask. Well you see it all comes down to TV reception and with all this moving about to frequent retuning.

Now if you want to ensure good reception a chap would say, "Buy the biggest aerial you can get. Look at this. Marvelous; 56 element job suitable for weak signal areas. Sorted". But the female mind does not work this way. She can't be doing with all that iron mongery on top of the boat. Makes it look untidy. Gets convinced by the man in the chandlery that this neat little Avtex job with built in signal booster powered from the aerial socket on the TV (5 volts) is the answer to a girl's dreams. In practice though, stuck to the boat roof with the very neat little suction mast it come with it's, we have to say, rubbish. His giant array of coat-hangers does the business. Which is where the shiny, six foot, aluminium pole and brass deck socket come in. She is convinced that the neat little job needs to be up higher and so the Braunston Chandlery provides the pole and we have to say,in our present resting place, at the top of the Ashby Canal, at Snarestone,........ she is right. There it sits, some 10 to 12 feet above the surface of the canal and we have good reception, digital channels and all.Countdown viewing assured. We wait with bated breath to see how it performs elsewhere. But,.............. he has also got a universal clamp so the array of coat-hangers can be rousted out and fitted to the pole in case of need. Nothing is going to get in the way of his afternoon peace and quiet.

People appear to either love or hate the Ashby Canal. This is rural, meandering, lock free boating. In places narrow, often shallow, no place for boy racers. No great industrial architecture of bygone ages either. Small settlements along its course. A coal canal, with, in its day some 28 pits of the South Derbyshire coalfield. Views over open fields with neatly trimmed, sloping sided hedges. This is hunting country. The Bosworth battlefield site and centre where the 32 year old Richard III met his end in Kings Field next to the canal. Well actually, probably not. The pleasant walks up Ambion Hill it seems do not look out over the battlefield site. Recent research and field archaeology appears to show that it was about a mile away. Still a good walk though and an interesting afternoon's visit. And for the steam enthusiast the restored Battlefield line Shenton station.

Since our last visit in October the number 7 bus now goes every hour and a half instead of every hour from Snarestone to Ashby. Which is where the Osteothingie comes in. You may recall from the last post stories of dodgy backs and grimacing. Well to cut a long story short, he who smugly declares that he has learned to manage his back problems will one day eat humble pie. And he has, by the bucket. Icing regimes, gel packs, sacro-iliac joints, nerve roots, inflamtion, analgesia and non-steroidal anti-inflammatory compounds all come in there somewhere. Lets just say he can now stand up straight (just) and may well be sleeping in a bed again tonight,emphasis on sleep.

On a more cheerful note we have re-aquainted ourselves with the delights of the Globe Inn by the moorings here, great Sunday Lunch (not served on tea plates), nice beer. As an interesting postscript, we left here in October to travel to Bath for the winter. It took us three weeks. From leaving Bath the return has taken us three months!

What's all that stuff about old dogs and new tricks?

2009-04-13T01:10:00.002+01:00

Spring is definitely here. Canal side is ablaze with yellow celandine. First the willow and then the hawthorn buds burst. The world is turning green. Flowering cherry in gardens and trees along the cut are all blooming. We've had some glorious sunny days and now the fire is only lit in the late evening or early morning when herself decides "I'm cold!".

Our big dog, Micah, a lurcher of a beautiful golden hue, now well peppered with the white of age is a dog of somewhat aristocratic demeanour. A dog not known for rapid response. "Do I have to? Oh well if I must I suppose I will." A dog of somewhat Eeyorish temperament. "Don't worry about me. I'll be all right in this cold damp corner." But not for long. Himself gets up to make the morning tea. Where is big dog? You can't miss him. Curled in his bed which he has dragged right in front of the fire! couldn't get it any closer. If it had been any closer he would have been in the fire! Like herself, he doesn't like to be cold.

After the Kennet, the Thames was a pussy cat. Beautiful countryside, beautiful houses but definitely the habitat for GRP river cruisers. After a night at a lock landing stage at Days Lock for lack of suitable narrowboat mooring we continue north to Abingdon, one place on the Thames with plenty of moorings for narrowboats. The Thai Orchid was excellent as we spend a couple of days and manage to ring at St Helen's before we continue up to Oxford, dodging scullers and eights all the way. Up past Oxford and into Dukes cut to be back in paradise, .... a narrow gauge canal.

The weather is not as good with windy dull mornings and threats of rain. Afternoons are glorious though and on one such we arrive in the centre of Banbury on a Friday afternoon. Banbury a town that embraces it's canal with the great Castle Quay moorings right next to the shopping centre;...... dangerous! Friday evening and a return visit to Fabio's, best Italian restaurant in the district. Palm Sunday Service in the baroque church is good, although dodgy back prevents a trip up the tower. Monday night at Claydon and friends drive over to join us for an evening meal. Napton locks and we descend from the summit to Napton junction and so along the Grand Union to Braunston to spend Maundy Thursday and Good Friday with the good folk at All Saints there.

Now he's got a new toy. Waterway, a GPS system for inland waterways. "What you want a Satnav for canals for? there's only one way you can go!" Women just don't understand do they. Now Mike Kelly the man behind the program lives in Braunston and so himself drops in for a chat. Need a doctor, dentist, pub, laundrette? All this stuff is available as POI's (points of interest) on the map. As Mike's wife explains, the program had its conception the time they were out in the middle of nowhere and she has a husband in agony, needing medical attention and she has no idea where they are. The program has all the text from the Nicholson's canal guides incorporated. The advantage over printed guides being that as users email in corrections and new info it is updated very quickly. Updates appear every couple of weeks for download from the website. After pointing him to the Dove download, 4,000 towers with rings of bells (including practice nights) have now been added. It also has lots of caravan/camp sites next to waterways so we can point friends to places they can come and see us for a weekend in the camping season. Route planning with distances and expected cruising times, together with measuring tools complete the suite. Have a look at http://eureauweb.com/eewnew/

From Braunston we've moved on to Rugby and the mooring next to Mr Tesco. Easter Sunday and a half hour walk into the centre of town and the church of S Andrew; unique in that it has two rings of bells. The old church was rebuilt in the 1850's but the medieval tower with its 9cwt ring of five bells was retained. Then in the 1890's a much more impressive tower and spire where added on the NE corner of the church and a 24cwt ring of eight bells was installed. On the first Monday and second Sunday of the month they ring the five and on the others the eight. So here we are, Easter Sunday, second Sunday of April and join in ringing the five (ring from 9.45 to start of service at 10.30). "Nice to ring on a number of bells I feel comfortable with," she says. She's suffering from eight and ten bell overload although she can stand up to Grandsire and Stedman triples with some confidence. The local Met Office forecast has let us down for the first time. The promised sunshine hasn't materialised. Tomorrow we continue north towards Ashby.

And so dear reader, our story is up to date. From now we trust we will manage to keep posting in a more timely fashion.

Not for those of a nervous disposition!

2009-04-13T01:01:00.002+01:00

Well we all have those phobias that convince us that the sky is about to fall in. For Big Dog it's fireworks and as for Litle Hairy Dog? He's just found out....... smoke alarms. Well you see we had, as all good holders of a BSC (Boat Safety Certificate), a smoke alarm. But it was ten years old and well, push the little test button and....... silence. So we had to get a new one sometime. On a train visit to Newbury himself eventually gets one. Fixes it. Presses the little test button and......... silence. A duff one. So when we eventually arrive in Newbury by boat we get it exchanged fitted and fine and like all good smoke alarms, you are concocting some culinary delight and ....... beeeep!!!!! Well for a small hairy dog this is the trump of doom. The sky is about to fall in. Panic, shake and quiver, pant. Next day same thing. Oh b.....er, "Take the battery out," she says. Trouble is that now, the smell and sound of anything frying and........ shake, quiver, pant the thing hasn't gone off but it could do and then the sky WILL fall in. It's a hard life for a dog.

But we get ahead of ourselves. On the appointed day we move off to Hungerford and as planned joined a very good ringing practice. Went to the club for a cheap pint with the lads and lasses, as you do and himself (she declined) gets invited to ring in a quarter peal of Grandsire Triples on the Sunday evening for Evensong. Well we had planned to move to Kintbury for the weekend with the locks opening. "We'll come and fetch you," they say. "It's not far". It's then you get paranoid about the fates not wanting you to leave a place because the news from BW is, "Navigation closed at Burghfield lock. Boat sunk in mid-channel!" So we stay at Hungerford for the weekend.

The sun is shining it's warm so we grasp the opportunity to renovate the paintwork on the hull sides; she look lovely. Ringers recommend the Downgate pub for a good honest Sunday Lunch and our sons come to visit (it's Mothering Sunday). The quarter peal? Didn't get it; but himself acquitted himself well enough and has been promised another attempt when we return this way.

So Monday we set off for Newbury and spend a nice day there. Now this is where the waterway becomes a navigation where the canal joins the River Kennet for long stretches and this is where the fun begins (for those not of a nervous disposition). The sight of rushing water emerging from the channel on the left and the big rubber balloons round the sides of the narrow Newbury bridge give some intimation that this passage will not be at the usual leisurely 4 miles per hour. After watching to see how others tackled the task we go for it and after regaining quieter waters, do what all good boaters do after such an adrenalin rush; visit the laundrette.

The Kennet may be a small river and there may not have been any rain to speak of for weeks but it certainly knows how to flow. Sunken boat due to be raised Friday so on we go. Winds are strong making boat handling tricky so it's open both gates at the broad locks rather than the usual just open one and slide through. Sky looks black, sudden squall and some well placed trees to quickly belay mooring ropes prevent us being on the towpath with Avon Rose on the offside. Next day move off, share a lock, river section, quite wide, under the M4, round the corner, ALL ASTERN! Large tree blown down across the channel and a broad beam boat secured to the bank and it with its skipper wielding a saw to try and cut a way through. This is Friday the day we expect the sunken boat to be raised. Suddenly two white pick-ups drive into the field. Hurray the boys in blue to the rescue. "Sorry sir, we're just assessing the situation." It's the dreaded Safety Elf again. "Need a boat to do this. Can't have lads wielding chainsaws without a stable platform. Off they go and another 15 minutes with the saw from our friend on the broad beam and we have a way through.

Next stop lock 103 and a walk down the towpath to see the divers in the water raising the sunken boat sufficiently with well placed air bags to winch it to the side. Well by mid Friday afternoon it's out of the way and off we set for Reading.

Now you might think that is enough excitement. But no, and we haven't told you about the Woolhampton lock where you have to open the electrically operated road swing bridge a hundred yards downstream before you leave the lock and the mad reversing and leap to shore with the stern rope so your crew doesn't have to walk 2 miles to rejoin ship. The trip through Reading is something else. County lock; lowers the boat by 1 foot 2 inches. Nothing to worry about. No..... only it's on a blind right hand corner while the river goes straight on over a foaming weir. The trick is to alight under the road bridge on the bend and walk the boat round; but the current is so strong if you don't judge the landing right, shall we say you are glad your boat is made of steel. Then when you walk the boat out of the tail of the lock you are glad of the kind passer by who helps you heave it out of the eddy sucking the boat into the tail of the weir. And then the river narrows and one way traffic is the name of the game, controlled by traffic light! Push the button, we've got a green light, go.o.o.o.oo.!!!!!!! Sharp left into the Reading loop for a night's mooring. A loop off the main channel it might be but still a good flow so mooring was shall we say... interesting.

Saturday morning and out onto the Thames. It blowing a chill wind but at least we are going upstream which makes handling easier and we have big locks mannned by friendly lock-keepers, except that is for the ones that aren't. (It is out of season. River boaters don't come out in force till Easter it seems). At the unmanned ones herself amused herself pressing the buttons to make it all work. The Thames is wide, plenty of room, pretty scenery, grand houses and..... lack of good moorings for passing narrowboats.

The Bedwyn interlude

2009-04-13T00:54:00.002+01:00

Well there we were at Great Bedwyn and where are we now? Great Bedwyn. It was the wrong kind of ice or snow or mud or whatever and so what the day before had been "We're just a couple of days behind," has turned into a two week extension of the stoppage at Kintbury. First passage through on Saturday 21 March. Thank heaven for the bakery. At least we can console ourselves with fresh bread every day...... and of course cake.

While herself was away He's been and explored Marlborough. "You'll like Marlborough dear, about every third shop is a coffee house or tea shop." And she did. Good bus service every hour and market Wednesday and Saturday.

Well If we are going to have to hang about for another couple of weeks we might as well do it in Bedwyn. Definitely a doggy village; even has it's own professional dog walker. Lots of footpaths and walks up the hillsides and through the forest. Savernake forest, (beech and oak with the occasional carpet of snowdrops); pronounced Sav-ver-nak we are told. The dogs enjoy a morning walk to Little Bedwyn along the tow-path each day and halfway there in the evenings. Tow-path walking good as both can be let off the lead, being fenced in on two sides.

Now you see some remarkable sights along the tow-path at times. Things to take your breath away. One in particular was presaged by big dog suddenly ducking (I've never seen a dog duck before) as this ghostly white apparition suddenly emerged from over the hedge. A barn owl, out on the hunt just as the sun was setting. As it swooped low over the wetlands, the low sun reflecting off its pale underside, flight that looked like a huge butterfly in slow motion. Amazingly beautiful as it circled round past us and we looked it full in the face. On the other side of the canal is an iron-age hill fort by which is an ancient chapel now used for storage, which we learned later is where it lives.

We had said, when we were in Devizes, that a trip to Avebury stone circle would be good; but because of the bad weather we never made it. Well yesterday we did. A lovely sunny day and bus to Marlborough and then the Swindon bus to Avebury and a delightful day. What's there to see is all down to marmalade! Alexander Keiller the archaeologist in the 1930's used his inherited fortune from his family's marmalade business to uncover buried stones and restore the monument to what can be seen today it seems. It's now in the care of the National Trust.

Today is miserable. It's trying to rain and the weather forecast is for possible snow. But are we bovered????? Well not as long as it just comes for a day. Tomorrow is market day and we need to go and see if the laundrette we have heard of in Marlborough is still open. The washing machine on the boat is fine when we are on the move. (Even he did a couple of loads while she was away). The problem this time of year is getting stuff dry. Oh the trials of the boating life; though you could hardly call backing up 100 yards once a week to refill the water tank boating.

15 mar
So there I was, peacefully drinking the mid-morning coffee and suddenly the boat starts to rock violently from side to side. No it wasn't the after effects of the red wine! Then again, sound of tremendous wash from a passing boat; some maniac not slowing down, clonk on side of boat. Didn't hear an engine, in fact didn't see a boat. Are we being bombed by enraged ducks demanding breakfast? There goes another. Peak out of the window and........mad canoeists! It's the Pewsey to Newbury time trial. One of the preliminary events on the K&A before the Annual Easter big one - Devizes to Westminster. A hundred and twenty six miles in about twenty hours we were informed by a squad of eager Royal Engineers out on a training day during the week.

We were about to start on one of our trips into Marlborough when we met them; market day, laundrette or some such. The laundrette is down a little alley behind an antique shop. You get it all to yourself on non-service wash days and Krumbs sandwich bar three doors down makes the whole thing bearable - takeaway soup and baguettes to die for. After a delicious nut and bean creation herself is now on an urgent quest for a supplier of chilli jam!

Anyway, getting back to the canoeists; rather than sitting and getting sea-sick himself and the dogs set off on the morning walk down the tow-path. There are not just one or two of these guys. There's an entry of something like 200! Setting off in pairs at minute intervals they keep coming for hours. By the time they reach us they've already been going for over and hour and a quarter. What a way to spend Sunday. And it's not just straight paddling. On the K&A about every mile it's pull your boat out f the water, pick it up and run round a lock, back in the water and off you go till the next one. Mind you, the enthusiasm varies a great deal. It ranges from the real hard cases (with their team of supporters arriving by car or bike at the next lock, stuffing energy giving bits of banana or chocolate into the paddlers' mouths as they race past with canoe on shoulder and topping up their water bottles) to the pair of lads lustily singing Jerusalem and Christmas Carols as they paddled on in apparently no particular hurry.

Spring is definitely in the air. Even big dog had a mad canter round in circles in pure delight this evening. Temperatures are rising. We let the fire die during the day. This evening was lovely and balmy, still air, fish rising. Needed a fly line and a rolling cast. A pair of young lads camping by Burnt Mill lock had a 12lb carp the night before. The local paper reported a Salmon caught in the K&A - the first reported in the waterway for 150 years! And another surprise, we saw a Little Egret down by the river (white, small heron-like bird). We will miss the place.

Devizes to Bedwyn

2009-04-13T00:46:00.004+01:00

From Devizes we moved on to All Cannings to be frozen in again. Lovely community village. Have re-opened their village shop by running it as a community service, manned and run by volunteers. Been so successful that they are building an extension to give them more retail and storage space. Good ringing with an active band of 14 including teenagers and adult learners. They were glad to see us as we were able to help them do more with the learners. Nice pub too!

We then took Avon Rose home to her first mooring at Honey Street at Gibson's Boat Services, filled with diesel and chewed the fat with the man. The sawmill was also able to provide us with half a load of logs, now piled on the roof, so herself is a happy bunny; "I like a wood fire". The fact that she occasionally fills the boat with smoke by keeping the fire door open ("I like to see the flames!") and sets off the carbon monoxide alarm is neither here nor there. The Barge Inn is also our kind of pub; wood floors, log fires and welcomes dogs on leads (do a very nice line in cheesy chips - small dogs quickly scavenge any dropped by large dogs because they are a bit hot!). Also a centre for crop circle enthusiasts; last summer was a good year for them mine host informs us.

A pause at Pewsey for the weekend to attend church (missed the ringing, they stop 15 mins before service) and watched the rugby in the pub by the canal on Saturday. Himself and the landlord the only England supporters there! It was full of them Welsh and an ex pat Aussie! Outrageous!!! Nice village with lots of shops (small town really) but somewhat remote from the canal; good fifteen minute walk with hill.

So we've moved on to Great Bedwyn to pause here for a week as we have nearly 3 weeks before Kintbury locks are open. Lovely church, heavy six but they only practice on the first Monday of the month and service ringing by arrangement only. She's jumped ship! Lured away by the promise of a soak in a hot bath. These part time sailors! The excuse is she's going to help our daughter decorate their new kitchen. Good train service from Bedwyn into Reading and Paddington. A trip to Newbury for a day out is perfectly feasible. He'll have to kick his heels here on his own; making do with fresh crusty bread, pies and cakes from the village bakery. It's a hard life for an old boatman. Aaaaaaaaah.

On to Devizes

2009-04-13T00:30:00.003+01:00

When you see the middle 16 stretching before you in a row like that they can seem a little intimidating ; but we did it (all 29) in just over 4 hours coming up. Worked well with Bob and Pam, on their way to the sawmill at Honey Street to pick up a 38 foot spruce pole to make a new mast for their sail boat at Bristol. And so here we are in Devizes where, as elsewhere, the snow came making everything look very pretty. The temperature dropped and the canal froze and everything got very slippery. Ducks are walking on water, swans are acting like icebreakers and both our dogs have managed to slip and fall in while getting ashore over the rear of a boat we were moored next to for a couple of nights.

Now if you are a large and rather bony dog with not much fat you don't appreciate drafts. So much so, that in the middle of the night as the saloon temperature falls a bit, you get up, have a wander around and let the human beings know that you are not happy! Your bed may be very soft and equipped with folded blankets on which to rest your head, but if there's a draft round your back it just won’t do! What joy then, to be in Devizes with its excellent pet shop on New Park Road. Herself finds a dog bed in the Sale that matches the boat décor, but more importantly has nice high sides that curl round your back and keep the drafts off you. Oh joy; dog heaven. Go out in that weather? You have to be kidding! Hairy dogs of course just don't care.

It was one of those "what shall we do today" moments. What do you do in Devizes when you've got a few days to kill? Visit the Wiltshire Heritage Museum of course, hoping to look particularly at the Neolithic exhibits. The problem with out of season visits is that is when the builders come in, so half the museum is not available (including the Neolithic....damn!). The consolation is that the entrance fee is waived. And as we wander round herself says, "Isn't that.......?". One look, battered trilby on the back of the head, flowing locks appearing from under the brim, strong Wiltshire accent; yes it’s Phil Harding from Channel Four's Time Team doing the day job. "I have to shake your hand," she says, "I've listened to you so many times on the telly". You never know who is going to turn up.

So now we are waiting for the weather to improve so we can move on. We've deposited our read books and completed jigsaw at the Oxfam shop and bought and started another Jiggy. A nice steak and kidney pudding would go down nicely in this wintry weather. This white stuff is all very pretty but it's time it went.

Well if you are going to test if you can survive a winter on the water then you might as well choose the worst winter weather for 13 years and see how you get on. And............... well OK. We haven't been cold. We've been frozen in several times, but keeping a sharp look out on local weather forecasts and ensuring you are near to all services when temperatures plummet is the way to go. February really is a dreary month but the evenings are lightening and the snow drops are out so spring is coming. The last couple of days have had some lovely warm sunshine to lift the spirits but with great patches of snow still about where sun has failed to penetrate it is very soggy underfoot.

Small dogs require stilts, their undersides are much too close to the ground. Their fluff and tail attracts muck and twigs like a magnet. What should be white and pink comes in from the morning constitutional dripping liquid mud. In the shower again followed by chasing up and down the boat and rubbing itself on the carpet. "I hate being clean!" The super pet shop in Devizes did have a waterproof small dog coat that zipped at the back so the undersides were covered and had little sleeves for the legs. Herself was tempted but knew he would hate it, so resisted. Snow was still on the frozen ground then so mud was not such a problem.

It's been a long time coming!!!

2009-04-13T00:15:00.003+01:00

Well the last post was in January and now its April already and at last another post. The private blog has continued on a regular basis but I've failed to keep this one going due, in some extent, in trying to decide how to continue. Are folk really interested in yet another canal travel log? The answer is I don't know. Friends seem to enjoy what I write. And then when I sign in I see that "The Meanderings" has a follower, so someone is interested.

And so dear reader I came to the conclusion that rather than attempting to run two completely different blogs I will publish here an edited version of the other. You, no doubt will soon let me know if it is of interest.

So stand by, a rash of posts to come in quick succession, as we catch up with the Meanderings of Avon Rose.

Old World Charm with Chips

2009-01-30T20:33:00.002Z

Bradford-on-Avon really is a photographer's delight with the low bright winter sun reflecting off the golden local stone of it's historic buildings. The Avon racing along after the recent heavy rain; you wouldn't want to fall in. As you come down from the canal towards town bridge and pass through the car park behind the tourist information office you see the footbridge over the river to the Parish Church of Holy Trinity and next to it the tiny Saxon church of St Lawrence. From here are numerous little allies and flights of steps to take you up the side of the valley to the tiny church of St Mary Tory and wonderful views over the town and surrounding countryside, not forgetting the terraces of charming weavers cottages from days long gone.

Chips again? Well the fish shop on the corner of station approach is a pleasure not to be missed we have to say. Fish cooked to order with batter so crisp and light it had herself in raptures.

Being a person of a certain age does have its advantages in the guise of a small rectangle of plastic known as the national bus pass. To people with no wheels this is a boon which was put to good use in the sleepy village of Semmington, our next stop along the waterway. "What is there is Semmington?" you ask. Well apart from the Somerset Arms probably nothing to attract most boaters; but for us the bus stop for the number 234 bus which we duly board for a ride through Melksham to the quaint village of Lacot. If you've seen the TV period drama Cranford or Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice or Harry Potter you've seen something of Lacot. It's a favourite film location, a village still as it was at the end of the 19th century and now in the care of the National Trust along with the Abbey and the Fox Talbot museum. Abbey and museum sadly closed on the day of our visit. Fox Talbot being the inventor of the photographic process. "I wonder what he would make of digital?" she remarked. She is still dreaming of the French Onion soup consumed at the Sign of the Angel on Church Street. Log fires, good food and wine, no better way to spend time waiting for the return bus.

So now we've wandered on to Foxhanger Wharf and the bottom of the 29 lock flight up the hill to Devizes. Early to bed ready for a heavy day tomorrow. With chill easterly winds and snow predicted on the East Coast it could be interesting.

Well Here Goes

2009-01-21T22:55:00.006Z

Here I am. No longer a virgin blogger. Up until now we have kept a private blog for close friends and family. It's been fun and well received. Others we have met on our journey have been interested in what we are doing so perhaps it's time to make something available for a wider audience. If no-one reads it we'll soon know and give it up. To find out what we're about go to our website at www.avonrose.org.uk. We don't claim to be unique. We've met many retired couples doing what we are doing. Perhaps others cruising the waterways may find things we note as we go along useful in planning their own cruising. Who knows?

So, the story so far. We started our waterway life back in September of 2008. We cruised from the fens of East Anglia via the Oxford Canal to the Kennet and Avon Canal and Bath, were we had a winter mooring while navigation was restricted by winter works. We've become acquainted with the guys at Bath Narrowboats who fitted a new Isuzu 42 to Avon Rose. It has replaced the Perkins D3-152 that had been fitted to her but was sadly becoming incontinent, springing oil leaks one after the other. We started this life to get away from hassle so sadly she had to go. Now, somewhat later than first planned, we leave Bath to make our way back East along the Kennet and Avon. We missed the early January window of escape and so are quietly bumbling along towards Devizes and the Caen Hill locks which will be closed until 31 January.

Here we are at Bradford-on-Avon having spent last night moored at the east end of Avoncliffe aqueduct where we spent a delightful evening in the Cross Guns in order to satisfy herself's need for chips. Strange the things people crave for at times. The Bath Bakery on Frome Road has already scored a hit with some wonderful bread. Nearer the centre of town the Fish & Chip shop is calling and we've found at last somewhere that will refill our Ecover bottles. (If you don't know about Ecover then you had better start Googling). Oh the simple pleasures of the boating life.

Well dear reader, that brings you up to date. Keep watching to see how our journey unfolds, unless of course you are of a nervous disposition and unable to cope with the excitement!