Through Cut End and up the Shroppie

As planned, we made an early start this morning, though since it was Sunday, we didn't actually start boating until 6.30. It’s another situation where for one reason we want to get away early and for another want to time our arrival at the planned stop for mid-morning. In the event, it all worked out well. Sheila steered at first whilst I got some breakfast, then I took over and did the rest of the trick.

The weather wasn't much to write home about, raining softly from time to time but not very windy. We got through Pendeford Rockin’ without meeting anyone coming the other way and similarly had no difficulty at Autherley stop lock. The main challenge is the turn from the southbound Staffs and Worcs onto the northbound Shroppie. As usual, I didn't quite achieve a contactless turn, laying the starboard side on the fendering on the towpath capping and motoring her round.

It’s a very shallow stop lock, one of the smallest on the system – I suppose the main justification for leaving it in place is the sheer length of the pound leading away from it in all three directions. We didn't see any problem children, not that we expected to at that time in the morning, but there were just one or two boats starting to move as we headed along the wide and deep channel of the Shroppie.

Arriving at the moorings beyond Bridge 7 a bit after half nine, we were pleased to see that there was plenty of room, though there were quite a few boats here. One of them was Timewarp and we’ve had another natter with Tony this afternoon. That was while we were washing the roof, which badly needed doing, still being covered with dirty smuts from the winter in Mercia, exacerbated by material washed down off the trees during the recent rain storms.

Before that, we’d given the boat another quick sweep through, so we are once more filled with a sense of virtue.

And cream crackered.

It’s a lovely, peaceful mooring here, far enough away from the M54 not to be troubled by it but with decent mooring rings and Armco piling. Tomorrow, we’ll carry on to Wheaton Aston, or perhaps a little beyond. As usual on the Shroppie, there’s no guarantee that we’ll have a usable data signal every day, so don't be surprised if the occasional blog post doesn't get made…

Location:Brewood

Onto the Shroppie

Fine night, early start, this is getting to be a habit (yes, please). By ten to eight we were on our way on a morning which had been quite foggy at six, but which was just settling down to be another beautiful day as we set off.

The summit pound was quite low, and has been dredged here and there, but with seriously shallow bits in between. I had a hard time getting Sanity Again round a couple of the tighter bends, with the bow and stern both trying to stem up, whilst the centre bridged the silt that always builds up on the inside of the bend. At one point, I was standing out on the stern deck with my posterior shoving the helm down as if it were the balance beam of a particularly heavy gate.

No matter, things improved as we reached Coven, and on some stretches she was fairly flying along. Yet another washload was run, taking advantage of the good drying weather whilst we've got it. Life got a bit tricky when we got to Autherley Junction, or Cut End. Coming from the north, you have to turn back on yourself to get into the end of the Shroppie, and it's hard to see if there's anything coming up the stop lock. Sheila was on the bow, standing on the locker, in fact, and initially gave me the thumbs up, so I started to make the tight turn. Half way into it, she signalled a boat coming out, so I decided to complete the turn, then back down the Staffs and Worcs to let him out.

This worked reasonably well, considering that this was one of the undredged bits, and we lay against the towpath beyond the junction. Once the other boat had emerged, some more work was  required to get the bow into the hole again, especially as we'd run aground just off the towpath. After a bit of A-level swearing we made it, and emerged onto the Shroppie.

This is the scene of the 2008 IWA National, and my feet felt damp just looking around. We stopped on the towpath by Bridge 2, and Sheila went off to Morrisons in search of bread and a paper, leaving me on anchor watch. This isn't an area where I'd leave my boat unattended, or stop overnight, though others of more robust disposition do.

Just as Sheila came back, who should come through the bridge hole but Scoobie and Rita on Festina Lente. They pulled up alongside and we had a good old natter. They were cruising in company with Snowgoose, and had got off half an hour ahead of their partner because they wanted to do some boat washing and then fill up with water at the water point.

By the time we'd exchanged all the goss, most of this time had gone, I fear, and we met Snowgoose opposite Wolves Boat Club, just one bridge further on. Nonetheless, it was great to meet up with them; one of these days we'll actually be in the same place overnight and can do the job properly.

We've come on to the SUCS moorings at Bridge 7, an excellent spot, nicely out in the countryside, and with good mobile phone and (I'm told) TV signals. We've had a quiet afternoon, though Sheila picked up on a casual remark of mine, that the end of the long shaft could be prevented from making a mess of the roof by putting a Turk's Head round it, by doing just that in white nylon cord.