New waters at the back o' the map

25th & 26th July

Regular readers will know that part of our strategy for coping with busy canals is the "start early, stop early" rule. This applies with greater force when long tunnels are to be negotiated, as both the chances of having to pass a terrified novice, and of having to breathe someone else's diesel fumes are thereby reduced.

So it was that 7.15 yesterday found us entering Wast Hill Tunnel, the longest bore on the Worcester and Birmingham. I've been trenchant here before about BW's fondness for extra signage in these cash strapped times, but must admit that for the steerer, the boredom of a long bore is much abated by their new habit of putting distance markers every 100 metres.

You can stand on the back, chugging away, doing mental arithmetic along the lines of "the tunnel is just over 2400 metres long, and I've just passed the 800 metre mark, so I've done about a third of it."

With about 200 to go, a boat did enter in the opposite direction. Called Asclepius, it seemed a bit odd to me when I realised that it didn't have a tunnel light on, though everything else, including port, starboard and stern navigation lights, were clearly functioning. Sheila, standing in the well deck, pointed this out to him, and he just said "yes, I know".

Despite the sign at the start saying that the estimated travel time is one hour, in fact we were out by eight o'clock, and then had a pleasant chug through Edgbaston, with its own dinky tunnel, to the hurly burly of the Mailbox, Gas Street, the Old Turn (where I missed the traffic island in the middle yet again), and we found a mooring on the right opposite Symphony Court, our favourite location for stopping in central Brum.

I commented to Sheila that it was much busier than the last time we were here, and she looked at me pityingly and said "Yes, dear, but that was in March and the stoppages were still on." Good point, I must admit.

You can get to the large but strangely shaped Tesco at Five Ways from here; it's a short trek, along Sheepcote Street from the bridge over the canal, until at Broad Street you turn right and walk alongside the frantic traffic, past a huge multiplex cinema to the giant roundabout, beside which is the Tesco.

After lunch I painted the blue top coat onto the well deck, and we went for a stroll around the junction area, partly to see who was about, and partly to get away from the smell of new paint.

A quiet afternoon followed, resting from our exertions. The succeeding night was a bit noisy at times, but no more than can be expected on a Friday in the very middle of the country's second city. The advantage of the Symphony Court moorings are that they are just far enough away from the pubs and clubs of Brindley Place to get away from the worst of the rowdiness.

Today started fairly early, with another trip to the Tesco for supplies before Sheila set off, staying on the New Main Line at Smethwick Junction, and so reaching Dudley Port Junction, where we turned left onto the Netherton Tunnel Branch.

This is another straight but long tunnel, with loads of room. On emerging, I found I was in the doghouse with the steerer. When putting on all the cabin lights, I'd neglected to turn on the engine room ones, so that She had done all 45 minutes unable to see either the rev counter or the throttle. What was particularly alarming was that there seemed to be another boat coming up fast behind her.

This proved to be a bike; Netherton is really unusual in that it still has a viable towpath on one side (it used to have one on each side, but the other is no longer safe).

The romantically named Windmill End is as nice as everyone says, with a decent length of visitor mooring, a little cafe run by the Bumble Hole Trust, and a large area of public space.

The weather has turned very hot again, so typing here in the study is a bit of a burden: I'll stop there for now, with the prospect of Gosty Hill Tunnel and Hawne Basin tomorrow.