Monday, December 13, 2010

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

"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.



Friday, October 29, 2010

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

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!

Friday, September 24, 2010

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

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

Thursday, September 23, 2010

We’ve come full circle.....

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?

Saturday, August 14, 2010

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

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.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

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

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....

Monday, July 12, 2010

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

“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.

Friday, April 30, 2010

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

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 .

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Simple......tzcht!

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.”

Thursday, February 25, 2010

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

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?"

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Ice, snow and departing friends...

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.