Boating in the wind

As planned, we've spent today pottering back to Huddlesford so that Elanor can collect her car and go home for the night, so as to go riding tomorrow. Then she's coming back to us for a further couple of nights, which will give me a chance to restock the larder by being driven to Morrisons.

It's been a funny day, weather wise, very warm and sunny, but quite windy, which made the boating a bit tricky this morning. There's been a fair amount of traffic, but the moorings here in Huddlesford were deserted again. They've filled up quite a bit now, so it must have been down to our timing.

We've been training Sally to be a quieter boat dog; she's generally very good, but has a bit of a thing about a) mallards and b) cyclists. Both have to be barked at, she reckons, so Elanor is working on a retraining regime which is beginning to bear fruit.

Whenever a bark is likely, Elanor shows Sally a treat held in her hand. Sally's preoccupation with this prevents her from giving tongue, so she gets the treat as a reward when the bark eliciting stimulus has passed.

The main job today was washing the roof and starboard side of the boat. Both had got covered in white dust whilst we were at Kingsbury; the port side will be against the towpath when we move the boat to Fradley tomorrow, so hopefully we'll get that side done then.

Windy winding

We'd planned to reverse from our mooring back to the junction at Huddlesford, to save going on to Streethay to wind, but it quickly became apparent that this was the tedious option. The canal was just so shallow that Sanity Again kept prop walking back to the towpath, so we gave it up and shoved off to Streethay after all.

I find winding there a right pain, frankly; there's barely enough room to do so, and they will moor boats on the towpath opposite the widest bit of the lagoon. As usual, we ended up having to rest the bow on the side of one of the moored boats in the echelon, and motor the back round. The gusty wind didn't help much, either.

At last it was done, and we toddled off back to Huddlesford and on to Whittington. Here we stopped for a bit to buy a paper and some fresh stuff, and to post our postal votes, Elanor having brought the doings with her last night.

All done, we carried on to wind again beyond Tamhorn Farm Bridge, and tie on the towpath just on the Whittington side of the same bridge. The winding hole at Tamhorn is another that's only just long enough for seventy foot. About half way round, I went astern to ease her back a bit out of the hole, only to find that she wouldn't move. The bow had run hard aground, and much shafting was required to get us going again. This is another situation where a bow thruster would have been useless; it would have bunged up with mud immediately.

After lunch, Elanor and I walked Sally along the towpath to Tamhorn Park Bridge, and so into Hopwas Woods. As I expected, these proved to be ideal dog running terrain. We put the 10 meter line on Sal and let her romp about to her heart's content. By the time we were approaching  the other bridge out of the woods, Hopwas Woods Bridge would you believe, she was looking quite weary.

This was until she spotted a squirrel somewhere up the slope and went after it with the afterburner on. The squirrel got quite a fright; it bolted for a large oak and ran a little way up it, whereupon it stopped to sneer at Sally. Sally, however, had hit the tree so fast, she went about six feet up it, and the squirrel had to make tracks hastily further up the trunk to avoid becoming a tasty afternoon snack.

Back at the boat, we settled down to read and do quizzes, or, in Sally's case, to catch up on much needed zizz.

A long day's boating (by our standards)

Elanor is joining us for a couple of nights, and Huddlesford is the best place to meet her as it has really handy car parking. We therefore had to put in some serious boating hours by our standards today, retracing in a single day the route that took us three days going out.

We got away at eight, on a day of blustery nor'-easterly winds that fairly made my eyes water. An earlier start would have been better, all else being equal, but we needed a pump out, and Fazeley Mill opens at nine. The timing worked out just right, and I'm pleased to report that I managed to reverse Sanity Again into the marina and onto the service wharf without too much hassle or even much under-the-breath imprecation.

We didn't need diesel yet, not at 92 ppl for domestic, so just had the pump out at £15.50. It's neither the best nor the worst in the world, but not as good as it was when Corinne was in charge. You get just the one rinse, and the tank gauge showed that a bit more could have been extracted with a little more trouble. Out we came again, pulling across the bows of a Viking Afloat boat waiting to come in, so I'm glad that the exit was as smooth as the entry.

The tail end of the Birmingham and Fazeley runs under a footbridge linking a housing estate on one side of the cut with Millfield Primary School on the other. As we approached, the entire school started to cross this bridge, waving Union Jacks and generally expressing a high level of glee. They were clearly celebrating tomorrow's wedding, and many of them were in appropriate costume.

To their delight, I gave them a double toot on the klaxon as we passed beneath them, and there was much waving all round.

We stopped on the last bit of mooring on the B&F, so that I could nip round to the Tesco Express for a bit of top up shopping. The whole town seemed to be lining the streets, and by the time I came out, the school procession was on its way down the road. Fazeley was clearly showing a substantial degree of monarchical loyalty, and having a great time in so doing.

We reached Whittington just on 12, so stopped for lunch, then boated on for the final 20 minutes run to Huddlesford. Des Barnard was busy on Farne, and popped round for a cup of coffee and a chat after we'd tied on the visitor moorings. Unlike previous years, these were largely empty, the crowd of lurkers which used to forgather here having moved on to the other side of the junction, where at least they are out of the way of the 48 hour moorings.

We gave Des a hand to move Farne across the cut and under the railway bridge, so that he could work on her offside, then spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the bow, the wind having moderated and the sun come out, making for a pleasant if cool spring afternoon.

Chilling out at Kingsbury Water Park

It's been a day for relaxing, birding and generally not doing too much. A couple of boats had moored behind us last night, one of them overhanging the winding hole, so when we noticed that they'd gone in the middle of the morning, we took the opportunity to wind Sanity Again.

This went reasonably smoothly, though the winding hole is only just big enough for a seventy footer, and the breeze was strong enough to influence matters, not necessarily in a good way. The use of the long shaft at the bow made all the difference; it was one of the situations where I was very glad to have the use of 14' of ash and Sheila rather than a bow thruster, which would have struggled to cope with the weed and mud in the hole.

We'd left the mooring chains in place, with fenders attached to them so that I could see where they were from a distance, so that Sanity Again was put back exactly where she started from, just the other way round.

By the time all this was done, and with the engine running we'd done already, the batteries were on 95% charge. I turned off the engine, planning to run it again this afternoon while I had my shower, but the sun has come out since lunch, and the odd 5% has been made up by the solar panel.

We've made two trips to the fixed hides, one early on and the second after lunch. The lakes are quite low, which may account for the comparatively limited amount of bird life visible. A local regular twitcher joined us this morning, and confirmed that it wasn't just us, there really weren't all that many birds about.

Nonetheless, we managed to record gadwall, cormorant, tufted duck, lapwing, oyster catcher and a possible shoveler (it was hiding under the trees) as well as the routine coot, mallard, mute swans, greylag goose and (of course) Canada goose. We also think we spotted a ferruginous duck, but can't be absolutely sure that it wasn't either a cross with a tufted or an odd tufted female.

Sheila was pleased to hear the local cuckoo at one point, but I've frustratingly not been able to catch it yet.

On our return from the second trip, we found an ex-Concoform marine hire boat, Londonweed, tied near us and partially across the winding hole, so it's just as well we turned round when we did. The rest of the time, we've been reading (in my case a copy of The Independent downloaded onto the Kindle, since there's no newsagent handy) and pottering.

Tomorrow, we make up for our indolence today; we want to be back at Huddlesford to rendezvous with Elanor in the evening, and need to get a pump out at Fazeley Mill on the way, so it's going to be a busy day by our standards.

Cold winds, not even May yet

We know from Sonnet 18 that spring time winds were an inconvenience even in Shakespeare's day, so I guess we mustn't complain too much that the recent incredible weather has given way to more typical end-of-April cool and windy conditions.

Sheila steered us round to Peel's Wharf, where you can just fit a seventy footer onto the service wharf. We hooked up the hosepipe to the well-pressured tap, and, whilst it was running, I nipped off to the Tesco Express to get a paper.

The tank was three quarters full on my return, and we sat there for another 15 minutes or so until it was brimming. Off we went again, Sheila steering round the tricky turn under the road bridge at the junction, so that we were now indisputably on the Birmingham and Fazeley: the section from Fazeley to Whittington having been built by the B&F, but now usually counted as part of the Coventry.

I started the washing machine running, and set up and lit the stove, it being that cold. Apart from anything else, it clearly wasn't going to be a day for the whirligig, so we needed some decent warmth in the boat to help the clothes to dry.

There were a lot of boats scattered along the towpath, but some space on our usual mooring at the foot of the Curdworth flight. Indeed, a boat was just leaving from the prime spot, so I hovered whilst he got himself untied and finally pottered off.

Admittedly, Sanity Again had by then blown across the cut into the reeds on the offside and was well stemmed up, but I was a good little boater and refrained from suggesting that he might for once get a move on. Some energetic shafting at both ends pulled her across, whereupon the only other boat on the moorings untied and left as well.

(Note well; neither of these boats "pulled pins"; they had sensibly tied themselves to chains passed through the waling of the piling. ;) )

We've spent the rest of the day peacefully sitting here by the Water Park. The new toilet tank gauge has just started reading three quarters full, and we plan to pump out at Fazeley Mill on the way back. As it's the first time we've let the tank get as full as that since the new probe was fitted, I satisfied myself that it was working properly by dismantling the relevant bit of the bed, extracting the probe and dipping the tank.

It was indeed almost exactly three quarters full, so that's a relief.

We'll stay put here today, then amble back to Huddlesford on Thursday, where we plan to rendezvous with Elanor that night; she works her final shift in the present job tonight, not having had a break since she started over two weeks ago. You can understand why she's looking for another job!

A shopfest at Sutton Road Bridge

It is nice when a plan comes together, as it did today. We set off at eight and after the expected hour's boating (well, OK, 1 hr 10 min) we were tied up at Sutton Road Bridge, access point for the Jolly Sailor and Ventura retail parks.

There was only one other boat here when we arrived, but we've been joined by several others since, including Mick and Gill on Dawntreader, who tell us that this is also the best place to moor for getting to Tamworth railway station, which in turn has connections to most of the rest of the country.

As a mooring, it's become even more safe than it was already, with the development of the final bit of scrubland alongside the canal; apparently, it's going to be yet more warehouse and retail units. With the existing Audi showroom and second hand car lot, which has 24 hour CCTV, it feels really very safe. The only loss is the footpath down the side of the scrubland, which made a more pleasant access to Sainsbury's than walking down the road, but you can't have everything.

We've made three trips altogether, one just to start restocking the larder, one that included a trip to Argos and TK-Maxx, and one that penetrated the depths of the Ventura Park to get to M&S and Boots, as well as Halfords and Homebase.

I won't bore you with a list of everything that we got, tempting though that is (after all, I'm paying myself by the line ;) ), but one item may be of interest.

For some time, we've been pondering the problem of having the steerer at one end of the boat and the crew at an unknown location within the boat or on the bow. So far, the solution has been to bellow down the boat when assistance was required, but this isn't always effective, and with advancing age-related hearing loss, becoming less so.

I'd wondered about some sort of bell, perhaps the kind of door bell where the main bit plugs into any power socket, and the bell push connects wirelessly to it. So we went into Argos where I found a battery powered job for just £5.99. It works the length of the boat, so hopefully is just what we wanted.

The other neat piece of boating kit to mention isn't ours, but belongs to Dawntreader; they have a cat on board, which has on a couple of occasions fallen in. It swims OK, but of course the problem is, how does it get out? So they have a pair of car wheels and tyres, one of which is tied to the mooring chains at each end of the boat, and provides an accessible platform for the moggy to haul itself out on in such an emergency.

Tomorrow, we'll have a run up to Kingsbury Water Park for a couple of days, before heading back to Alrewas in very easy stages.

A recommended mooring

This mooring just short of Hopwas Hays Woods, aka Whittington Ranges, is highly to be recommended. We now have several neighbours, and there's been an enormous amount of traffic, but it is Easter weekend, even if it has turned a bit cool ad cloudy today.

We took a walk this morning, over the first bridge into the woods, had a bit of a wander round up and down dale, then found the track that leads to the second bridge out of the woods, and so back along the towpath. According to the Garmin, it was just under two miles, but one could easily extend it by going deeper into the woods.

The ranges are still used on occasion, but not very often as far as I know, and they would make a brilliant dog running place. Just hope the pooch doesn't come trotting back with a cylindrical object in its mouth...

Back at the boat, we pottered about doing various jobs. I checked the engine, and found that the fuel pipe joints I tightened the other day were still leaking just very slightly, so nipped them up a tad more. As I understand it, they are the sort of joints that shouldn't be overtightened, so I'm being a bit cautious.

I also turned to and gave the bathroom a good clean, and earlier on, we'd checked out the PMR radios. These had misbehaved themselves the other day when we were using them navigating the Armitage Tunnel. I thought I'd put fresh batteries in them at that time, but it may be that the ones in question (rechargeables) had been sitting in the box too long after being charged.

With fresh batteries in, I walked away from the boat with one radio, checking in with Sheila sitting in the bow with the other set every 100 metres or so. They performed perfectly well after a quarter of a mile of this, so it looks as if it was a combination of tired batteries and the rocky terrain that gave us bother. This is reassuring; the radios are around ten years old, so it wouldn't have been completely surprising if they'd begun to fail a bit.

After lunch, we spent a good bit of time sitting out in the bow. Although quite cloudy most of the time, it was pleasantly warm. Chalfont came past, with a reader of this blog in the bow (great to see you) and a steerer wearing a WRG tee shirt.

Coming in the opposite direction was Guelrose, with Mike Moorse in the bow entertaining what looked like grandkids, and what had to be his son steering. They were soon back, having just gone to the winding hole; Mike said he needed the boat turned round to clean the other side, but it looked like an excuse for a tootle down the cut to me.

Tomorrow, we'll carry on to Sutton Road Bridge, and do some badly needed restocking at Sainsbury's.

Lazy in the heat

After a quiet night at Huddlesford, we ambled on to Whittington, with the plan of pausing there to get a paper, before carrying on to Hopwas. We had originally thought to go to the Sutton Road Bridge mooring at Tamworth, but a) we're trying to lose time, and b) mooring there on a sunny Easter Saturday night might not be so good.

The first part of this went off without a problem, Sheila steering gently along the Coventry to find an easy mooring on the outskirts of Whittington. We tied, and I popped off to go to the Co-op to get the paper and a further supply of salady stuff.

The Chairman of the Lichfield and Hatherton Canals Restoration Trust lives just by the bridge there, and the signs were up for a coffee morning in aid of the restoration. It didn't seem too much to ask to hang about a further half hour to give them our patronage, so we settled down with the quiz in the Indie magazine to pass the time.

Our decision was rewarded by a chance encounter with Gill Barnard of Farne, who came past walking the dog. We had a nice natter with her, and that took us up to ten o'clock, time for coffee.

Having consumed the coffee, and bought books and a ready to cook slab of rhubarb crumble, we set off again, taking a photo of the festivities as we went:

We've actually stopped just a bit short of Hopwas, before Whittington Ranges, in fact, on a quiet piece of towpath with a nice view. We've spotted a yellow wagtail sitting proudly on top of a bush, and otherwise not done an awful lot, as it continues to be very warm indeed.

We'll stay put tomorrow, then plod on to Tamworth on Monday, so as to get some shopping in at Sainsbury's before going on to Kingsbury Water Park (large stores aren't legally allowed to open on Easter Sunday in the UK).

If we had a rabbit...

... and annoyed it, we'd have a hot cross bun. It's like the height of summer today, and we've been tottering around in polo shirts and shorts all day. It got hot enough after lunch to make hiding in the boat advisable, and it's definitely going to be salad tonight. The hawthorn is now in blossom, so clouts can be cast, say I.

We had a nice run up Fradley, a bit of traffic around first thing, but nothing like as bad as it can be. Then I steered along the familiar pound through Streethay to Huddlesford, where there was plenty of room on the towpath at midday. Most of the regular lurkers seem to be hanging out on the Coventry at Fradley at the moment.

It's really good to see loads of folks enjoying the cut on a day like this, and it looks as if we've got the weather for most of the weekend, hooray.

There'll likely be a return to more normal April conditions after that, but hey, who's complaining?

We're killing time this week, so we'll make a gentle toddle along to Kingsbury Water Park over the next few days, then amble back to Alrewas for a week on Monday.

Getting hot at Alrewas

Trying to sleep with a BP monitor on isn't easy, but not completely impossible, so a bit of kip was had, in one hour sections (that's how often the cuff inflates, squeezing your arm, and I defy anyone to sleep through it).

In the morning, we got up and pottered in our usual way, and first popped into the village before walking up to Fradley, where the BW shop opened at 9.45. We managed to find three Pearson's Guides which were more up to date than our present ones, and also a birthday present for No 1 grandson, which was a bonus.

Back at the boat, we ran the engine to do another washload, to take advantage of the great drying weather, and had a leisurely lunch.

At last it was half two, and I could take off the monitor. That was nearly two hours ago, and there's still a crease in the flesh of my arm where the cuff was. No matter, job done. On  my way back from dropping off the kit at the surgery, I bought some supplies from the Co-op and the butchers, so's we can make an early start tomorrow morning, heading back to Fradley, and probably on to Huddlesford, depending on where we can find a mooring.

First job will be to drop down Bagnall Lock and wind, which should be a good deal easier this time than last time we did that, when it was still frozen.

Arriving at Alrewas

The BW shop and info centre at Fradley is closing at the end of this month, a victim of the cut backs. It's a shame, as they've been really helpful in the past, but perhaps inevitable. They are advertising a closing down sale, and since some of our Pearson's guides are quite old, we thought we'd take the opportunity to restock.

The shop is closed all day Tuesday, but opens at nine on a Wednesday, and since we only had to come down to Alrewas today, we hung about at Fradley until then.

When we got over there, we saw the notice on the door that they wouldn't be opening until ten today.

Bother.

That was too long to wait; we may walk back there tomorrow. The run down here was straightforward, though there were a lot of boats coming up. On arrival, we had a load of choice, as there was only the one boat tied above Bagnall. We've been joined by a BW workboat since, which they have handily tied just off the end of the lock landing.

That will be amazingly popular over the weekend, with all the boats queuing to go down, methinks.

Yesterday, I forgot to mention  that on a walk up to Shade House for the exercise, we encountered nb Sandra, a medium sized Springer. She had a Honda genny running on her bow, despite the fact that she was preparing to set off and had her engine running as well. Her steerer explained that, with a boat full of grandkids, he needed the genny on to recharge all their games whilst cruising.

I've been to the surgery and been rigged with a 24 hour BP monitoring kit, so every half hour there's a beep and my left arm threatens to fall off. It's probably not the best time to do it as it turns out, as Elanor is having some grief from her new employer, who doesn't seem to understand why, after working for him for over a week, she'd quite like a contract, please, and some indication of how much and when she's going to get paid.

Hopefully it'll get sorted out soon, but it's come to a head just over this monitoring period. At least it's a thorough test of how well my BP is or isn't controlled, I guess.

Hot day at Fradley

I really can't remember a day as hot as this in April in the last 57 years or so. We've had hot summers, of course, plenty of those, but this is still before Easter (even if that feast is as late as it can be this year).

We've spent the day loafing at Fradley, treating ourselves to coffee/hot chocolate and cake at the cafe while it was still comparatively cool this morning, and pottering about.

Almost all of the boats moved away in the course of the morning, so that we were left in solitary state:

Was it something we said?

but loads more arrived as the day went on, until by late lunchtime there were no spaces. One or two have moved on again since, so if someone turns up now, they might just find a slot.

So as not to spend the whole day unproductively, I changed the filter in the toilet tank breather, the old one having been wrecked by the overflow in the winter. Part of the filter had disintegrated in the liquid; Leesan are not kidding when they say don't get it wet.

We've decided to travel to Crick the long way round, in view of the stoppage at Ansty on the N Oxford, assuming that this Spring continues as dry as it has been.

After our dental check ups on the 4th of May, we'll head for the Trent and then up the Soar. This presumes that we don't need treatment, of course.

Here's another photo of Sanity Again, just to make up for the hard to see image in the last one:

What a nice boat!

and so to Fradley

After another relaxed start, we ambled along the Trent and Mersey on a glorious morning, with remarkably little traffic coming the other way.

Down Woodend we went, and on to Shade House, where we found Seyella tied on the visitor moorings. Geoff kindly came out and gave us a hand down the first two locks, which gave us time for a punctuated natter.

There was just the one 70 foot space below Junction Lock when we got here, but numbers of boats have moved on since; it seems everyone has been making a lazy day of it. Braidbar 52, Maid of the Mist, is also tied here, and has been for a few days seemingly. How come some people get away with it?

We had a chat with her owner, but didn't discover the secret. It's not good when it seems some get away with it and others don't. At this time of year, with things getting busier, everyone really should play by the rules.

It's continued to be pleasantly warm, and sunny most of the time, sufficiently so that we've got out some short sleeved shirts and stuff, and put away the thermal undies. We also sampled the ice creams now available from The Swan; very good.

Our cruising plans may be complicated by the news that there's to be a stoppage on the North Oxford at Ansty from the 9th to the 19th of May, demolishing a bridge belonging to Punch Taverns that they've been neglecting. As long as it runs to time, or finishes early (which is the intention) it shouldn't prevent us from getting to Crick on time, but it will make the hire yards' lives very difficult, I guess.

Merrily on towards Alrewas

We'd meant to make a relaxed start this morning, but found ourselves awake at six anyway. Despite taking our  time about getting going, it was still just nine o'clock when we arrived at Rugeley, where at least there was plenty of choice on the moorings. By the time ten had arrived, and Morrisons had opened, things were much busier, so perhaps the early start was worth it.

We did a couple of shopping runs, it being around ten days since we had had the Waitrose delivery at Norbury, and we took an early lunch before setting off again. We did think about lunching on the move, but what with bridges on blind bends and the Armitage Tunnel, the stretch from Rugeley to Handsacre really benefits from having a look out on the bow.

I meant to take another photo in the Morrisons car park, but forgot, drat. It was of a sign on the ticket machine, explaining that parking was free today as the machine was out of order. It concluded "We apologise for any inconvenience".

It's always so annoying to find that you've got your money out and now don't need to spend it, I guess.

The cut is very busy today, as you'd expect, so rather than stop by The Crown in Handsacre, on a rather narrow tight bend, even if it is an official length of Visitor Mooring, we've come on a bit further to a towpath mooring by Bridge 56.

Main task of the afternoon was sweeping the Squirrel flue, which the use of house coal, particularly, had made very sooty. The flue brush we bought from the hardware store in Rugeley the other week did the job very well, I'm pleased to say.

A previous commenter expressed surprise that we'd been burning house coal, when Morsø strongly discourage it, even threatening to withdraw the warranty if you do, and I imagine that this sooting up of the flue is the reason. On the other hand, Morsø also recommends a 4.5 meter high chimney, and we certainly can't deliver that on a boat, nor do we season any wood we burn  for two years, another strong recommendation.

Having tried it, I have to say that we wouldn't use house coal again unless desperate for something to burn; it's just too messy, both with the smoke and the deposits in the flue, but burning green wood is probably just as bad, if not worse.

Tomorrow, on to Fradley.

Two personal items; hello to the crew of Stanley, readers of this blog who passed us in Rugeley, and congratulations to Adam and Adrian, new owners of Braidbar number 76, Briar Rose. Adam's blogging about her already.

Along the familiar cut again

For the trip down the Staffs and Worcs and up the Shroppie, we'd gone back to having the relevant Pearson's guide out on the slide, memory not being quite what it was, these days. To protect them from the weather, we use a cheap map case, with its strap clipped to the hanging rail in the engine room so that it can't blow away.

Setting off this morning, however, I thought "Why do I need this? I can just about recite the bridge numbers and features all the way from here to Alrewas." So I kept the Garmin in front of me, to have a speed and  moving  time read out, but left the guide alone.

Earlier, before I'd had breakfast, indeed, I took a couple of photos of the atmospheric mist hanging over the water:

and the fields:

Off we went at half seven, the idea being to get through the bottlenecks of Haywood and Colwich Locks before things got busy. We paused just before the junction to dump recycling, then under the bridge and round the bend we went, impressing a Canaltime as we did so.

Below Haywood, we stopped briefly again whilst I scampered to the paper shop, but managed to get away before the Canaltime, which had winded in the junction , had finished descending the lock.

There was a bit of action at Colwich, too, but no real hold up. FMC ex-working boat Lamprey was waiting to come up; presumably on her way to the Ellesmere Port Boat Gathering, though she'll have to get a shift on to make it for next weekend now.

We've stopped for the night at Bridge 69. This mooring is still popular, being just short of Rugeley but still in the countryside, although the rural effect is a bit more pronounced than it was, due to the young pigs living on the offside. They are quite delightful, actually, pottering about with little grunts, and occasionally engaging in mock fights, just don't breathe in too deeply. And I guess getting the barbie out and chucking some sausages on it would be in poor taste.

The railway line is visible but not too intrusive, and we saw a steam hauled train going north this morning. I couldn't recognise the loco, which was long and black, a mixed traffic beast, I would guess, with an impressive rake of 13 maroon coaches behind it.

Tomorrow, on through Rugeley to stop at Handsacre, probably.

Pictures at last

Today, at last, the pictures of Sanity Again on the dock. The main thing to mention from our boating today was the start, which was just a tad delayed by our fascination with the lapwings in the field opposite, one of which had taken exception to a very smart red pheasant sitting in the middle of the field.

The lapwing was buzzing it again and again. Maybe the pheasant was sitting right where the lapwing wanted to nest...

We've made it to Tixall without much drama, taking our usual couple of hours or so.The canal was very shallow past Milford Wharf, where there's a line of offside moorings. We know that some of these boats charge their batteries by running their engines in gear, and reckon that this has blown silt right across the cut.

Anyway, the photos:

Settled on the dock with gangplank rigged

One year's accumulation of muck

The sluice that drains the last of the water from the dock

Remains of the lock tail out the back

Starting to refill by lifting the top plank

Nice shiny bow

...and a shiny side.

The dock is constructed on what was the first of 17 locks leading down the hill at the start of the Newport Branch. If ever they are restored, there'll be a need for an alternative dock, unless the plan for a new inclined plane comes off despite local opposition.

Gently on to Deptmore

After a quiet night, we made a fairly standard sort of start today, getting going just after eight. I'd had time to get a paper from the newsagents by the lock, and we ambled down to Park Gate, arriving there in nice time at nine, just as Midland Chandlers opened. I bought 10 litres of Morris's best 10W/40 and an oil filter. At £16, the Fram alternate filter is getting significantly more expensive than the Beta original; must arrange to get a couple of those either at Crick or sent to Elanor's. For those still living on shore, finding a local motor factors is even better, as their prices will be lower again.


Then we came on to our towpath mooring above Deptmore Lock, overlooking a field with a couple of pairs of Lapwing on it. We've heard them calling more than seen them, as they are spending much of their time sitting around on the ground.


"Simple" raised some queries about the value of our blacking deal, especially the comparative costs of Intertuff versus Comastic. He felt that we'd been ripped off, which seemed unlikely as we did a fair bit of research on the subject before booking the job.


Some of it is my fault; I'd miscalculated the cost of the Intertuff job. I'll quote MD Simon Jenkins's reply to my email:

The cost difference between the materials is as follows, for a seventy foot boat, Intertuff is £739.00, Comastic is £845.00 the cost difference in materials is £73.74, in some cases people can re use the applying brushes when using Intertuff but when we use Comastic we throw the brushes away thus adding to the overall cost.

He also makes the points that they do a particularly thorough job, including an inspection of the hull, anodes  and stern gear. They black the weed hatch and internal trunking thereto, and allow liveaboards to stay on board with an electric hook up. It's also a very commodious dock.

Simple also asked about relaunch time, having found a site which reckons it should be 48 hours to launch. I won't quote all the stuff from the Comastic site, but just comment that no commercial dock would leave you on there for two days after the blacking was finished, and that the main risk with a launch after 20 hours, as we did, is that the blacking changes from shiny black to brown more quickly (it does so anyway over time, without affecting the performance of the coating).

All in all, then, I reckon we did OK. Comastic is undoubtedly more expensive, and smells awful when it's going on, but the build is much better, and stands up to abrasion well. We'll stick with it for the present; it did well enough on Sanity, such that when we eventually had her grit blasted, the guy complained about how difficult it was to get it off.

Tomorrow, on to Tixall/Great Haywood.

Penkridge again

It's one of our favourite villages, and today we are here on market day for the first time. To be frank, it wasn't a desperately impressive market, large but very unenterprising, but fun to stroll round all the same. We also visited the butcher and finally got some chicken, as well as a couple of nice looking pork steaks. Following that, a visit to the Co-op topped up the supplies sufficiently to get us through to Rugeley in a few days time.

The run down here was uneventful; we stopped at the top of Gailey to top up the water tank, the tap pressure there being good, and then followed another boat all the way down to Penkridge, Sheila steering and myself locking as planned.

Most of the locks are in reasonable nick, though a couple have badly leaking bottom gates and Filance Lock has a couple of "pissers" in the left hand wall as you descend which are quite spectacular. Close all windows if your boat has them.

[A pisser is a void behind the lock wall, which fills up with water when the lock fills and then empties itself in a Mannequin Pis style stream all over the boat descending the lock. There is a, I suspect apocryphal, story about the late Queen Mother being taken by boat to the opening of the Stratford canal. As they descended a lock, she was hit on the back of the neck by just such a stream.

HM QM: "Oh, what was that?"
David Hutchings (embarrassed): "Er, it's a pisser, ma'am."
HM QM: "It certainly is, but what's it called?" ]

The weather, having been quite horrible this morning, cold, damp and windy, is slowly improving, and we are promised better stuff for the weekend, so here's hoping. Lots of a baby ducklings here, so the drakes of the other week must have had their wicked way in the end.

On to Hatherton

Despite a bit of a broken night, we still managed to get going by half six, Sheila steering while I loafed in bed drinking tea and then got up and breakfasted. Thus refreshed, I took over the helm whilst Sheila got her grub, and she finished just in time to work Sanity Again through the stop lock at Autherley, or Cut End as it was known.

All was calm and peaceful around Pendeford, and we only saw a few early fishermen about. Another advantage of the early start was that there was no traffic coming the other way through the Rockin'. We've seen our first ducklings today, a bit later than folk further south.

The weather remained very sunny, but chilly, and the wind slowly strengthened until it was a bit of a nuisance, both for steering the boat and in terms of chill factor on the steerer. After around three and a half hours, we reached Hatherton, by which time the holiday makers had got themselves on their way, and things were getting busy. We'd planned to stop at Long Moll's bridge just north of Hatherton again, but the wind direction would have been from the water treatment plant (aka sewage farm) to the moorings, so we've stopped here at Hatherton instead.

After tying and sorting out, ham and cheese toasties were consumed, breakfast having been a while ago.

At Cut End, there was the usual pile of detritus collected from the bywash, including a large pallet which Sheila chucked into the well deck. She spent the rest of the morning cutting it up, along with the few bits of driftwood we'd acquired recently, so that we are now well supplied with kindling.

We've further improved the shining hour by washing the port side of the boat, so we're feeling quite virtuous. Just as I was about to settle down and write this, the guy from the boat behind pointed out that when our bilge pump ran, a bit of diesel emerged with the water and floated colourfully off down the canal.

Investigation showed that a joint in the leak off pipe was weeping just a tad, and dripping into the stern bilge. I've nipped it up, and run the engine to check that it now seems to be nice and dry.

Tomorrow, on through Gailey to Penkridge, Sheila steering and your correspondent locking.

Going South to go North

The odd thing about this bit of the Four Counties ring is that you travel south for a few days (OK, for one day if you are a hirer ;) ) in order to reverse direction at Autherley and head north again. I'm not complaining, you understand, but it's entertaining that you could probably walk to Penkridge from Gnosall across country a good deal quicker than you can boat it.

I visited the butcher before we set off, as we'd run out of fresh meat, but he didn't have much stock left; no chickens at all, for example. Presumably, all across the country, anything that could be barbecued was being flung on there this weekend.

I got some mince, and a nice bit of braising steak that I plan to curry tonight. Off we went, just after nine, with around four hours to do to get to our favourite mooring by Bridge 7. We'd not been underway long when a woman walking a dog on the towpath told us that she'd seen a baby hedgehog tumble down into the cut from the steep side of the cutting just beyond Cowley Tunnel.

We basically made 'well, well, how sad' gestures at her, but the next thing we knew, she'd been home, got on her bike, and was coming back to supervise us saving it. Now, I'm as fond of hedgehogs as the next person (though I've never baked one, see comments about barbecue above), but last I heard, they were not under threat, and the fate of most baby animals is to be eaten. Nonetheless, we showed willing, and I stood by with the boat hook to try and fish it out. Our supervisor had announced that if we did so, she would take it home and look after it.

There was no sign of it where she'd spotted it, so we carried on by. Looking back, we saw her waving her arms at us from further along, but it was too late to start trying to reverse in the narrow cutting. In any event, there were lots of boats about, so hopefully she was able to persuade another one to help.

I don't feel guilty, I'm afraid; in the cause of average hedgepig IQ, the ones that don't jump off a cliff ought to be the ones that survive to breed.

The weather slowly deteriorated, and eventually started to rain, so I retreated to the cabin. As I did so, I heard the phone ringing, and got to it just too late. David from Norbury left a voicemail asking me to ring back, and when I did, he made a handsome apology for the damage to our new blacking. He quite fairly pointed out that, if we'd complained, he'd have had the scratches touched in, and said we could have a free pump out next time we pass instead.

Thinking back on it, it is true that I should have said something straight away, but some of these things are a slow burn matter, and it's only after a while that you go "Hang about, that's not on." In addition, the cosmetic stuff isn't the point, really, we'll touch that in ourselves before Crick along with all the others that have appeared on the way there. It's the fact that there will almost certainly be other scrapes below the waterline that none of us can do much about.

Never mind, ringing up was the decent thing to do, and makes me feel much better about the boatyard.

It became clear that we weren't going to make the mooring before lunch, so for the first time this year, I got the Diablo out and made us a toastie each, using a chicken and mushroom Heinz Toast Topper that we got in Netto in Market Drayton the other day. Just the job, though the filling became very hot, and needed approaching with care.

Tomorrow, we plan a crack of dawn start, especially as the weather is scheduled to be at its best first thing. We've a way to go, but should be at Hatherton by lunch time.

Off we go again.

Having praised Norbury Wharf in my last blog, I find I have to qualify that this time, I fear. Things started well this morning, with one of the guys lifting the end of the top stop plank at five to eight, just as we were getting breakfast. The dock took just on an hour to refill, and they started shuffling boats about to clear a route out up the arm as it was finishing.

With the planks out of the way, and the gangway lifted up, we all started to pull the boat towards the bright sunny morning. Unfortunately, the boat shuffling hadn't been quite enough, and both as we left the dock, and again as we got to the bridge over the towpath, quantities of our nice new blacking were left behind on copings and other boats. I know that it will get scraped soon enough, but for it not to survive even the exit from the dock is infuriating. I mean this is 845 quidsworth we're talking about.

In addition, the roof was covered in fine rusty detritus from the cross beams of the dock roof, which are elderly steel, and an offer to wash us off would not have come amiss.

I suspect part of the problem is that there's only a skeleton staff on a Sunday, and we'd not long started on the boat moving when Steve got a call on the radio to come and see the day boat out. This added an air of rush to the whole thing, and Steve went off well before we'd left the arm.

It's a real pity; as I said yesterday, the quality of the work was good, and the charge very reasonable, but we'll think hard before going back.

I'll get the photos sorted out in the next couple of days and put them up.

Having got onto the service wharf, we had another rather expensive pump out and some cheap diesel, and a couple of bags of house coal. Then we crossed over to the water point and settled down to refill the tank whilst starting a washload.

Here we had another irritating experience. There are a lot of boats tied on the offside opposite the water point, so that there was just enough room (maybe nine or ten foot) to pass our stern. Most boats made it without difficulty, just slowing down and taking  it easy. This strategy did not commend itself to the hirer on Sir Galleron from Countrywide Cruisers, who kept the revs on, swung Sanity Again about and finally clouted her one.

The hose reel fell off the bow locker lid, taking my nearly full mug of coffee with it. Coffee and bits of mug covered the well deck, so it's goodbye to my personal Braunston tunnel mug that I've been using ever since we moved on board.

Heigh ho, it's too nice a day to stay angry for long, I guess.

We've stopped at Gnosall for the night. No Vodafone signal on the 48 hour moorings – you have to stop on the 5 day ones in the cutting for that – but a fast 3 connection.

We walked up into Gnosall proper to get some fresh lettuce and cucumber, but no Voda signal up there, either. Very odd – I mean, I know we're out in the wop wops as they say in NZ, but surely Gnosall is a big enough place to justify a mast?

Tomorrow, on through Wheaton Aston and Brewood to stop by Bridge 7, then a long day to Hatherton, definitely not stopping in the Pendeford area, it being the school holidays. We've noticed a huge increase in boat traffic already, so no doubt the little darlings on the estates round there will be out and about and looking for mischief.

Days three and four

OK, I missed yesterday, as a result of spending so much time outside in the sunshine. The dry dock here is a very good one, but inevitably it’s a bit gloomy inside the boat. We need the lights on all the time, so even when Freddy isn’t slapping Comastic on the hull, with the resulting niff of Xylene drifting around, it’s just much more pleasant over the way outside the cafe.

It’s just not very good for the bank balance or the waistline. Although there’s absolutely no pressure to do so, the attractions of another hot chocolate or a piece of flapjack intrude themselves into your consciousness. Not to mention the fact that, once you've smelt one person eating a bacon butty, the idea just hangs around, getting stronger and stronger until it’s too much to resist.

Elanor and Sally rolled up mid afternoon, and we’ve had a very pleasant 24 hours with them. The walk up the towpath and through Grub Street cutting is an excellent chance to exercise a vigorous pooch. Sally spent ages charging up and down the cutting sides, looking for bunnies, squirrels and anything else that might be persuaded to run away in an interesting fashion.

She got very weary doing this, so that we didn’t hear a peep out of her all night.

Today has been occupied in the same way, with the added interest of watching the activity around the yard as hirers and share boat owners turned up and set off. Elanor finally tore herself away mid afternoon, by which time the blacking was all done. Freddy was very insistent that I examined his handiwork before he cleared up, in case there were any areas that had been missed.

Needless to say, there weren’t. It’s a very thorough job, including the uxter plate, the weed hatch and even inside the weed hatch trunking. We paid just shy of £850 for the job, using Comastic. If we’d settled for International Intertuf, as so many people do, it would have been about £560 for 70 feet. Given that that’s three coats, I think you’d be hard pushed to find a better deal around for this quality of work.

We’re told we’ll be released at around 9.15 tomorrow. We’ll get a pump out and top up the diesel and water tanks, and then aim to be at Gnosall for the night.

Second day on the dock

It was rather a broken night, last night, what with the strange sensation of the boat not moving and the noise of water leaking through the stop planks onto the dock floor. As a result, we were up and about in very good time; work doesn’t start until half eight around here, unlike at Lord Vernon’s Wharf where the Braidbar staff start turning up from half seven on.

The first coat of Comastic has gone on OK, albeit with usual horrendous smell of the xylene solvent. We retreated to the seating outside the shop, from where we could look out for the Waitrose order arriving.

This it did at half nine, all complete and in good nick, so full marks to waitrose.com. By the time it was all put away, it was coffee time, so we went back to the cafe, ordered a hot chocolate and a decaf coffee and settle down for a bit.

Sheila had the MacBook with her, and checked email and did some proof reading, and I had bought an i, the mini version of The Independent. The first coat was all on by twelve, when we went back to the boat and got lunch.

Afterwards, we took a walk up the towpath, through Grub Street cutting, spotting a jay and a pair of Common Buzzard on the way. We’ve spent the rest of the afternoon loafing in the boat; when I’ve done the text for this post offline, I’ll pop round as far as the pub garden, near enough to the cafe to get the WiFi connection, and post it, checking email at the same time.

Then it’s my turn to get a shower in the services block before cooking dinner. That reminds me, I should have said before; it was an excellent meal last night in the Junction Inn, good pub grub like a larg steak pie and a chicken and bacon melt, with crisp chips.

Strongly recommended, I can see why it’s so popular.

First day on the dock

We ate the Adderley sausages last night; they were very good, though a bit on the skinny side. They would make excellent breakfast bangers, or the heart of a hot dog, but came out just a touch dry for our taste as a main course.

Nonetheless, they were vastly better than supermarket stuff.

We got ourselves organized this morning in good time; we’d been told that the guys would be moving the boat between half nine and ten, and, used to the ways of boatyards, expected it to be more like the latter than the former. But it was not to be. Just before 9.30, they rolled up along the towpath, and soon had Sanity Again on the move.

In order to reverse down onto the dry dock that lies at the end of the arm, it was necessary to half wind her in the basin. The basin being very full, this was only just achieved, but at last we backed down between the rows of boats and into the dock.

It’s a good sized building; most of the water gets pumped back into the cut, with just the last bit allowed to drain through a culvert into what was the rest of the arm. The dock is constructed out of the first of the 17 locks that used to take the Newport Branch down the hill.

There are proposals to restore the arm, perhaps with a fancy boat lift at the start, but we’ve seen signs of local unease at the prospect, in the shape of notices about an initial meeting to co-ordinate objections.

Sanity Again’s hull has been steam cleaned, and nothing alarming emerged as a result. I’ve taken some photos, but won’t be putting them up until we’re back on a proper connection. At the moment, I’m composing this blog post on Sheila’s MacBook, and will pop over to the cafe to put it up when I’ve finished.

Life on the dock is very odd; the boat doesn’t move at all, of course, and you don’t realize how used you are to that gentle rocking until it’s not there. Similarly, we don’t want to allow waste water to run down the hull side, so the sea cocks on the outlets from the sink and washbasin are closed, and the shower pump has been turned off.

Washing water gets tipped from the bowl into a bucket for subsequent disposal, and we’re using the showers in the services block rather than on board. It’s only for a few days, so I’m sure that we will cope.

Tonight, we’re going to the Junction Inn for a meal, but after that I’ll be cooking on board as usual. We’ve got a Waitrose delivery booked for the morning, the first time we’ve used them. One thing less good than either Ocado or Sainsbury’s; they give two hour rather than one hour booking slots, so we’ll be hanging about looking out for them for half the morning, probably.

A quiet day at Norbury

After yesterday's mega post, there's not so much to say today. We took a walk up the road to the village first thing; it's about a mile each way, and a very nice village, but no shop, just a postbox. On our return, we popped into the services block to remind ourselves of what's there.

The answer is, the usual facilities, plus a shower in each of the Gents and Ladies, and a card operated laundry in the Ladies, which seems a bit sexist, BW.

Over the bridge, we discovered that the boatyard does a service wash for a tenner, and Sheila plans on having a bit of a break during the weekend by taking advantage of that. We had a chat with Simon in the office, and collected the replacement remote switch for the Hurricane that had been posted to him to await collection.

Apparently, in the morning, the guys from the yard will move the boat into the dry dock, as it involves reversing up the arm. Since the forecast is a bit windy, I'm quite happy to let them do this.

After lunch, I tried to get back online to update the Waitrose order I set up yesterday. The 3 signal was in a right bolshie mood, and was frankly unusable. No matter, I popped back to the cafe and took advantage of their free wifi. I did buy a cup of tea to drink whilst doing it, seemed only fair, and £1.50 not much to pay to get things sorted.

Naturally, when I got back to the boat with Sheila's borrowed laptop, all was well with the 3 signal again. It's obviously one of those on and off jobs.

Blogging may be a bit sporadic for the next few days under circs; we'll be off the dock on Sunday, so there should be a good catch up either that day or Monday.

Norbury a day early

Looking at the forecast, it was clear that this morning would be the last half decent boating conditions for a few days, so we decided not to stop at the Anchor at High Onn as we'd originally planned, but to carry on to Norbury Junction. Although not very windy, what there was, was very cooling, and I was glad that it was Sheila's turn to steer, whilst I busied myself down below with such essential tasks as keeping the stove well stoked.

We got here at about eleven, and tied on the first stretch of visitor moorings, both of us quite chilled and glad to get in the warm (I had taken over the steering for the last stretch through Grub Street cutting, in the cause of Sheila avoiding hypothermia.) No sooner we were all sorted, than I realised that neither the Vodafone nor the 3 signal were useable. Exploration showed that we just needed to move a bit nearer the bridge, which we've done.

This let me sort out a Waitrose order for delivery on Thursday, and to do a load of other web catching up, like filling in the NABO survey about costs of boating.

Catching up will be the theme of the rest of this blog, too:

First off, one   of SUCS's more entertaining signs, this at Coole Pilate:

The sign says "For use with disposable BBQ's supplied by Shropshire Union Canal Society". I don't think that's quite what they meant, but SUCS has a bit of form in this area. There's a WWII pill box on the exit from the towpath in Market Drayton that has a sign below it saying "Supplied by the Shropshire Union Canal Society". It's actually meant to refer to the picnic table in front of it, but does suggest that SUCS has been doing its civic duty for longer than anyone realised.

The farm at the top of Adderley flight has a little stall with an honesty box where you can buy eggs and cakes. As we got to the top, the farmer's wife was there replenishing it. She asked Sheila if she would like to buy any bacon or sausages, which they also supply if you ring them up. Sheila redirected her to me, explaining that I did all the cooking on board.

I couldn't hear this exchange, of course, as I was standing on the back with the engine running, so that the first thing I knew about it was this attractive blond woman walking up to me and asking if I would move in with her. It seems she hates cooking and her current feller doesn't oblige.

I thought about it for a moment, but decided that, at my age, it wouldn't be worth giving up living on the boat...

I did buy some eggs, bacon and sausages, though, in acknowledgement of what will probably be the best offer I'll get this year ;).

Coming back to today, we were passed by a bunch of four canoeists just by Knighton and the Shebdon embankment; we'd seen their canoes lying on the towpath as we set off this morning. Sheila had some quick conversation with them; apparently, they are canoeing round Wales. Presumably they'll go on down the Staffs and Worcs when they reach Autherley, onto the Severn at Stourport, and so out into the Bristol Channel and round the coast, reentering the canal system via the River Dee at Chester.

You've got to admire them, but they're quite mad, of course.

We'll spend tomorrow here on the VM, then go onto the dock on Wednesday morning.

Back to Adderley

The 3 signal here at the foot of Adderley Locks is a bit off and on, so I'm just doing a quick "we're all still here" post today, and I'll hopefully be able to do a better one tomorrow when we're in a better signal area.

It was still very windy this morning, so we hung around at Coole Pilate for a couple of hours until it moderated, and then set off. We had a good run up Audlem, with almost all of the locks with us, finishing by around ten past one, when we stopped for lunch.

We thought about going on to Market Drayton this afternoon, as it was now very pleasant, but decided not to risk a Saturday night there. Just as well as it happens, as we got well stemmed up just before getting to Adderley. There'd been a lot of veg clearing from the offside, but no matching dredging, so that the channel was nowhere near where you'd expect to find it. In addition, the pound was a bit down, and Sanity Again ended up aground and slewed right across the cut.

Just shows, no matter how much experience you've got, you can still get caught out. About half an hour of trying various dodges failed to move her. In the end, I put a very long line from the stern to the towpath, and by heaving on this, and letting the bow swing into the middle of the cut, she finally came free. We were very relieved, but now, after 15 locks and then this, quite knack tired out.

It's been an interesting 24 hours; last night we re-moored a BW mud hopper at Coole Pilate, which had pulled its pins out and was drifting down the cut towards us in the howling gale.

Tomorrow, through Market Drayton and on to Goldstone Wharf, at least.

Heading back to Norbury in the wind

I really shouldn't have stretched that portion of beef curry with a can of red kidney beans the other night. ;)

The wind has made things a bit difficult today, and, what's worse, the forecast is for more of it in the next few days. This wouldn't normally be a problem, we'd just sit tight and wait for it to blow out, but we have to start making our way back to Norbury Junction for blacking next Wednesday.

First off, I steered along the Nantwich embankment (always a draughty place) and on to Henhull, where there's a decent 70' winding hole. It wasn't very well dredged, unfortunately, so it took a bit of persuasion to get round; every time I went astern to pull clear of the offside, the bow started swinging back the way we'd come. Eventually I got the bow through the wind, so that it started helping (this why it's called winding; in the horse drawn days, they'd put a scrap of sail up on the bow to work the boat round).

Then it was back to Nantwich and carry on to Hack Green. The whole evolution from setting off to getting back to where we'd moored on the southern end of the embankment took just 90 minutes. With the washing machine whirling away, we worked up the two locks at Hack Green, gave the Secret Nuclear Bunker a farewell wave and toddled on to Coole Pilate, where there's an excellent set of SUCS moorings, complete with picnic tables and barbecue stands.

Since then, the wind has got up even more. I just hope that it moderates a bit overnight, or the Audlem flight is going to be really interesting tomorrow.

One consequence of doing things this way is that I didn't get into Nantwich to buy a paper. But we have a decent internet connection here, so I bought a copy of the Kindle edition of the Independent instead. It has most of the articles and reviews, but very few of the pictures and no crosswords. At 99p instead of a £1 for the print edition, that's a touch steep; I won't take to reading it all the time like that. But it's something rather than nothing, and much easier to read on the Kindle than trying to read the web version on screen.