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.
