Another trip through the tunnel

We've long since lost count of how many times we've been through Harecastle, but it must be between thirty and forty. After filling the water tank this morning, we got away around 7.45, down the stop lock and along to Hardings Wood junction. The wind was a bit tedious, blowing in just the wrong direction for the turn, so that the bow was reluctant to swing and I had to back and fill a couple of times to get round.

Well, that's my excuse, anyway. Unusually, the first convoy through the tunnel had been southbound and had set off twenty minutes earlier (it was now 8.30). Since there were a couple of boats waiting at the south portal and it takes around forty minutes to get through, we had an hour or so to wait. We pottered about, having first checked that the tunnel light and horn were working.

The tunnel keeper came over for a chat at quarter past nine, the first of the northbound boats emerging not long after. The second one was a bit slower, so it was indeed about half nine when we got going. We were the first boat in, something I hate as they make you queue right up close to the portal which is at an awkward angle to the towpath. I had to lean the bow on the curve of the washwall to motor us round, but once done, it was a case of open the throttle and head straight on.

There's a light kept burning at the other end to make up for the doors being closed, so there's something to aim for once your eyes have dark adjusted. We were followed by a share boat, then the tunnel rescue boat, whose crew were going to come back through immediately, checking whether the new mobile phone signal is working in the tunnel. It's on Vodafone, apparently, but of course any mobile will be able to use it for emergency calls, which is the point of the exercise.

We took about 35 minutes this time, not bad for us – the water level is reasonably high at the moment.

Sheila had got the washing machine running as we went through and made a coffee once we were out the other side. As usual, it was quick going along the summit pound, which is deep and wide, and we got to the Festival Park mooring before half eleven. There were a couple of boats tied here, though for once there was space outside the Toby Carvery. It's still comparatively quiet, indeed there were no boats at all at Westport Lake, the first time we've seen it deserted like that.

We've had a walk up to Sainsbury's for stuff we couldn't get in the various Co-op's, but otherwise have been chilling out in the boat. Tomorrow, a fairly early start down the Stoke locks, aiming for the Wedgwood moorings.

Windy Wedgwood and unexpected pleasures

As planned, we ate in the Toby Carvery last night. Possibly because it was a slow night, it was a touch disappointing. Service was fine, the Pedigree was in good nick, but the veg were very tired. They'd clearly been sat under the hot lamps too long.

Anyhow, it was perfectly edible and, of course, reasonably priced.

This morning, having seen the forecast for wind and rain later, we got away just after seven and an hour later were in the bottom lock of the Stoke flight. I steered briskly along the long pound, past the Dolphin yard transplanted from Louisiana, past the Waste Incinerator and the Britannium Stadium, through Trentham to the last lock of the day.

The wind did indeed rise as we went, so we moored on the Wedgwood visitor moorings just in time before it became impossible. No rain had arrived yet, so, having drunk a cup of coffee apiece, we walked into Barlaston to buy meat at the butchers.

It fairly tipped it down in the middle of the day and was just easing off when a sodden Peter and Melanie turned up on Inkling.

We kidnapped their dogs:

In due course, Peter and Melanie came to find them, drank a cup of tea with us and stayed for a right natter. We're each eating on our own boats then joining them on Inkling for a glass of wine and some intellectual exercise. Well, Rummikub, any way...



 

Through the tunnel to Etruria

Things went pretty much to plan today. We got away just after half seven, Sheila steering and the weather unseasonably cold. Indeed, there had been a light fall of snow in the night and it was still lying about as we set off. I had to be cautious crossing the gates of the stop lock with the snow lying on the foot boards. It's hard to believe that it's the first of May on Sunday.

It took an hour to the tunnel where we were alone, though followed by a boat that had worked up the locks on the T & M. There were no boats coming through from the South, so as soon as we'd had the abbreviated safety chat (since we'd been through already this year) we were clear to go. Sheila made a quick passage of it by our standards, just 39 minutes according to the tunnel keeper at the other end.

I made myself a coffee and started the washing machine while we were underground. The quick run along the summit pound got us to Etruria before half ten. We'd originally planned to shop at Sainsbury's this afternoon, but since there was plenty of time before lunch and the weather was due to deteriorate later, we went straightaway.

It's a little bit of a walk up hill to the store but no big deal, certainly not by Macclesfield standards. We got what we wanted and were back at the boat with quarter of an hour to spare before lunch. I relit the stove, which had had to be extinguished for the tunnel, and we stowed the goodies. Soup and sandwiches restored us physically and we've been taking it easy this afternoon.

Sheila has hung out the washing to dry and I had a shower, rejoicing in being able to warm the stern of the boat with the Webasto. The weather has indeed deteriorated markedly, raining cats and dogs and blowing with it. Hopefully it will have calmed down a bit by morning but it looks as though walking to the pub will be a soggy experience.

Ah well, all the more excuse for a roast dinner, winter grub for wintry weather. Tomorrow, down the Stoke locks, probably in the rain, to tie at Barlaston once more.

Through the tunnel

We've been through Harecastle so many times now (at least twice a year for the past ten years) that it holds no terrors for us, but it's still nice to get it done. There are some key points on the canal system that effectively divide it up, and Harecastle is one of them. South of it is definitely not the same as north of it.

As a result of the tragedy earlier this year, they've tightened up on the safety briefing, but not introduced any further requirements. This seems sensible; it was, after all, the first death in the tunnel in living memory. If there was one requirement they might have added, it would be to have a light of some sort facing forward from the steering position, so that the changes in height remain visible after the tunnel light has passed under them.

We were the middle one of a convoy of three; I would happily have been at the back this time, as the following boat had a mega-powerful light which blinded me every time I glanced behind. You just do not need that much candlepower; it's pitch dark in there with no competing illumination and twenty or thirty watts is ample to show you the walls and roof.

Ho hum, never mind.

We've tied just short of Etruria Marina. We had planned to get a pump out in the morning, but Black Prince don't do them on Saturdays because they are turning round hire boats. They aren't open on Sundays, either.

Looks like either Aston or Great Haywood will get our custom; we've got several days space in the tank yet.

Going against the flow

It's not always a bad thing to be going in the opposite direction to everyone else. We set off at half seven today and found Trentham Lock full with the top gate open. However, there was no-one in sight, so Sheila closed up and worked us through. Then followed the long pound through Trentham and across the nondescript area of greenery to Stoke proper, which starts a bit after the Britannia Stadium and the waste incinerator.

Next comes the Dolphin boatyard, advertising chandlery, air guns, fishing tacle (sic), archery and line dancing. There are a lot of ageing GRP cruisers there and I often wonder if the whole thing has slipped through a spacetime wormhole from the Louisiana swamp lands.

Finally, we arrived at Stoke Bottom to find a boat about to emerge. It was then like that all the way up, a steady procession of boats coming the other way. When we got to the top, there were four boats queuing plus another emerging from the Caldon to join them.

Soon we were tied on the Festival Park moorings. After a coffee, we walked to Sainsbury's for some perishable supplies, including one of their excellent whole grain loaves.

The weather's turned a bit soggy; indeed there was a touch of Autumn in the air this morning. Like the man from Stratford said, Summer's lease has all too short a date.

We've spent the afternoon on the computers and iPads catching up with various jobs. It's probably going to be wet tomorrow, but we'll slog on through Harecastle and onto the Macc at last. It's Sheila's turn to steer, but I will work all the locks...

That'll be Hall Green, one of just four functioning stop locks on the system.

Goodbye Kinky

We’ve survived the Kinky Caldon! Another early start this morning and a reasonably uneventful run to Etruria saw us complete our visit. It was my turn to steer and, apart from a close encounter with some hawthorn bushes on the outside of one bend, I managed to do it without too much drama.

I was helped by having the benefit of Sheila’s experience going the other way, of course, and some of the bends are just easier in this direction.

We locked down Bedford Street, crossed with an ex-Black Prince privateer at the bottom and emerged onto the wide and deep waters of the Trent and Mersey summit a bit after nine.

We stopped at the Calor Gas dealers to replace a cylinder; £17.48 for 13 kg of propane gives an idea of the mark up everyone else must charge…

/floor

Leaving the mooring there we crossed with Debdale whose steerer said he reads these burblings. Hi to you, and thanks again for holding back!

We actually found space on the moorings outside the Toby Carvery, just slotting in between the two boats already there. One has since left and been replaced by a very flash looking tug decked beast from a builder who shall be nameless (you pass the yard on your way from Amington to Fazeley…). He’s actually rather long for the space and has tucked his bow inside ours, where it’s bumping a bit, but we can take it if he can.

/hmm

So, what’s our opinion of the Caldon? Like Caesar’s Gaul, it can be divided into three parts. The first section from Etruria to Milton is reminiscent of the not too bad bits of the BCN, something to get through to get where you’re going.

Next comes a very pleasant bit of rural canal from Milton to Hazelhurst. It’s very nice indeed, but no better than say the southern Staffs and Worcs or the Chester Canal from Barbridge to Tattenhall.

Finally, there’s the truly stunningly beautiful part, especially the river section which is the equal of the Upper Thames, the Lower Nene or the Upper Great Ouse, with the advantage that it’s more accessible and you don’t need a Gold Licence to do it.

But…

From its origins it’s always been quite narrow and very twisty, making it hard work in a full length boat, as I’ve already said. And it desperately needs some basic TLC, cutting back the offside vegetation, removing shallows like the one at Cheddleton and improving the moorings at places like Milton. At the moment it’s best done in a 58’ boat that’s already a bit scratched and battered.

Frankly I reckon the Caldon and Uttoxeter Canal Trust would do better to stop spending their resources on one of the more pointless restorations (so few boats can get through Froghall Tunnel, the Uttoxeter is never going to be more than a trail boat waterway) and redirect their efforts to volunteer co-operation with CRT to sort out the canal they’ve already got.

I shall now brace myself for the storm of protest…

/bye

Onto the Kinky Caldon

Setting off just after 7.30 (this is getting to be a habit) we turned onto the Caldon and found that we could have tied for the night just beyond the service wharf. Where we were on the towpath was OK – we were joined by three other boats by evening – but it would probably have been quieter on the Caldon. The towpath is very well used by the locals, especially locals in Lycra on bikes, so there was a frequent whooshing sound from outside until quite late.

I worked us up the Bedford Street staircase; no big deal, it’s a pretty standard arrangement, but the intermediate paddles were very heavy. I should have used the long throw windlass. I walked to Planet Lock, which was no trouble at all, although Sheila was already muttering about the bendy shape of the cut and the way that the locks tend to be offset.

This only got worse as we went on. Last time we came this way was in Sanity and the extra 10 foot really made things much trickier. The only other canal that bends and kinks like this is the South Oxford; Brindley again, of course.

It’s often asked why such a beautiful canal as the Caldon is so under-explored; I reckon part of it is down to the grotty first few miles. The water is full of floating and sunken rubbish and the bridge abutments and the like covered in graffiti. I know (or hope) that the rest of the canal makes up for it, but it is a rough start to the relationship.

This is typified by the boater’s experience of Milton, in itself a pleasant little village/suburb, but the so called mooring as marked in both Pearson’s and the First Mate Guide is just a length of concrete edge, no rings or bollards and with the offside greenery severely restricting the width.

Going on through the bridge leads to a bit of piling, but it’s right on a bend. We stopped there long enough for me to do basic shopping; on my way into the village I’d noticed a butcher and baker, so only bought the paper in the centre and walked back to this shop to get the bread.

They’d sold out.

/floor

Knowing that Sheila was unhappy with where we were tied, I didn’t slog back up the hill to the Co-op, but returned to the boat. I finished some part baked bread for lunch after we’d gone on to moor much more pleasantly below Engine Lock.

After lunch, we walked back to the village to shop, and this is clearly the best solution. As we’re staying here tomorrow, we didn’t in fact buy any more bread; we’ll get some from the shop I first thought of in the morning. But we did get some other supplies from the Co-op and then raided the second hand book shop.

This is a superb emporium, with the right musty, bookish smell to it. We’re presently on the look out for books for the Lodge as we want to put in some basic reference stuff such as a bird book and the like, and getting them second hand from shops like this seems like a good idea. I can’t recommend the place too highly; it was only the thought of having to carry them back to the boat that stopped us going completely mad.

We’re looking forward to the next few days; we’ll have the company of our good friends the Campbells and the weather really does look to be set fair. We’ll shortly be complaining that it’s too hot, no doubt.

/blur

Ever upwards through Stoke on Trent

There was time to pop along to the filling station and Londis store to get a paper before we set off just after half seven this morning. It being my turn to steer, Sheila worked Trentham Lock and we set out on the longish plod to and through Stoke. The weather was grey but not actually raining and reasonably calm.

By the time we’d had a coffee the batteries were well on their way to being recharged and there was a sufficiency of hot water in the calorifier. Accordingly, Sheila started a washload which was rinsing when we reached the first of the Stoke Locks. A boat was just emerging and we had the rest of them mostly with us.

It’s two hours from Barlaston to Stoke Bottom and another 45 minutes or so to the top. I had to hang about on the towpath above the top lock whilst a hire boat came past and went off along the Caldon, then I backed Sanity Again into the wide area by the junction and winded her, reversing again to finish up on the towpath once more only now facing the way we want to go in the morning.

For those who don’t know this part of the system, the junction between the Trent and Mersey and the Caldon is just above Etruria Top and very acute in such a way as to favour boats heading south.

It’ll make Sheila’s task much easier in the morning to be facing back the way we’ve come.

We’ve had a quietish afternoon, watching boats come up the locks or head down them. We’re the only narrowboat here tonight, though you often see boats tied around here; there’s a GRP cruiser tied a bit further back towards the marina.

Tomorrow, we’ll go a bit of the way up the Caldon, shop at Milton and tie above Engine Lock, probably. The Campbells on Waimaru are heading this way from Middlewich and we’ll wait for them to catch up so as to share some cruising.

South to Stoke

Well, it's got to be better than North to Alaska…

Making an eight o'clock start, we got to the north portal of Harecastle at 9.15, where just one boat was waiting ahead of us. The good news was that there was a single boat on its way north and expected in ten or fifteen minutes. We'd already done most of the prep work for the passage, so it was a case of hanging about for a while, then setting off to follow the other boat through.

Sheila made a good entry into the tunnel, avoiding the shelf that lurks underwater on the towpath side and I went below to do some computing stuff (mostly playing patience, it has to be admitted). Once well established in the groove, Sheila wound the engine up and we went at a good clip.

Twenty minutes in, she slowed right down. For a moment I thought we must have broken all records for a quick passage, but no, we were just a bit over halfway through; the problem was that the boat in front had virtually stopped.

They went on  again after a bit, but never speeded up very much, with the result that it took a good forty minutes to complete the trip.

Once out the other side, we were greeted by bright sunshine; it's quite noticeable how often the weather is different, one way or another, at the other end of a tunnel.

We arrived at the Festival Park moorings a bit after eleven, and once we'd tied, I set off to find one or other of the supermarkets said to be in the area. In the event, I found the biggest Morrisons I've ever seen, and this is how to get to it:

Starting from the Toby Carvery car park, walk up the road past the ten pin bowling alley and the mammoth Odeon. You'll see a high level footbridge ahead; cross this and turn left towards the smaller of the roundabouts.

At that roundabout, turn right into Ridgehouse Drive, and walk along it with the road on your left and the big retail park on your right. You'll cross one minor road – keep going along Ridgehouse Drive until opposite PC World, from where you can see signs of the Morrisons up ahead.

Note that the filling station is on the other side of the road, but the main store is on the right. It's the size of a moderate Tesco Extra, so good for pretty well anything you might want, grocery-wise. It takes about 15 minutes steady walking. There are all the usual other stores in the retail park, if you need anything else.

This afternoon, we made a expedition to the Royal Doulton Outlet store, and bought two more cereal bowls for the swingeing price of 87p each. The best route to that is over the footbridge before the Toby Carvery, following the footpath to the right until you reach the main road, where you turn right and walk along beside the road until you get to the store.

You can spend a lot more the a couple of quid in there if you've a mind to, so beware…

/blur

Once you've used either of these routes, you'll see that it's possible to shorten them a bit by cutting across car parks and the like, but for a first trip, I recommend sticking to the roads.

Tonight, we'll treat ourselves to the carvery; I'm about due an evening off from cooking, I reckon.

Harecastle for the third time in four weeks

Peter and Jan duly arrived, bearing lots of yummy stuff like beer, bread, more beer, biscuits and, er, wine.

We had a very good evening last night…

/blur

Not that we drank too much, of course, but it was good to have a relaxed evening with them.

Sheila got up at half six this morning, so that we were under way by seven. The weather wasn't quite as bad as forecast, and certainly not as bad as yesterday, but still very cold in a sharp northerly wind. We made it to Harecastle by ten, and had about a twenty minute wait. These days I'm never sure what to say when the tunnel keeper asks if we've been through before – you don't want to sound like you're showing off, but you do want to indicate tactfully that you've had plenty of experience in there.

And boy, have we had some experiences in there (sorry, you'll have to wait for Sheila's next book).

/nobigdeal

I mean, saying "I was going through this tunnel before ever you heard of British Waterways, Sunny Jim" is probably not the way to keep the keeper happy...

This time, however, we could justifiably say that this was our third time through in a month, which did the trick.

We were third in a convoy of four, and had a reasonably fast transit. The summit pound of the T&M is quite high at the moment, which made it easier to get over the silt bar at the north portal, but we still had plenty of clearance.

We made it to Etruria just before midday, to find a few boats already tied on the visitor moorings. The weather has been very off and on this afternoon, both showers and sunshine, so we seem to be back on track with typical April conditions.

I stayed on anchor watch whilst the rest of the crew investigated the Royal Doulton factory shop, and Peter carried on to find a garage to sell him a couple of papers (he's a Times reader). We've been relaxing/dozing for the rest of the afternoon.

Tomorrow, another early start; we want to get down to Stone for Peter and Jan to catch a train back to Congleton, so there's ten locks to get through.

Through the tunnel

After all our mega boating (by our standards) we've had an easy day today. Last night we were very pleasantly surprised by the Toby Carvery at Etruria. It offered good basic food, with a choice of two chicken, two fish and four veggie dishes as well as four roasts in the carvery. The beer was in good nick, and the whole thing very reasonably priced.

This morning, Sheila set off a bit before seven, and made very good time to the tunnel; the combination of the light boat and deep water meant that she was at risk of breaking the speed limit for some of the distance. The tunnel keeper was already about when we got there at eight, and we were the only boat at the south end. He told us that we would be first through, but we had to wait for ten minutes whilst he gave the fans their first run.

He was in general a jolly soul; apparently the regular users of the tunnel have christened him and his partner at the north portal Ant and Dec.

Once inside, I settled down to read whilst Sheila thrashed on in fine style, taking just over 25 minutes to get through. A smooth turn onto the Macc, without using the bow thruster what's more, meant that we were on the last lap.

Hadar was tied on the aqueduct, so we had a shouted conversation with Jo and Keith before they set off the other way and we came on to Hall Green.

We've stopped here for the night, as we want to try the Bleeding Wolf for dinner. It's meant a very relaxed day, a nice break from all the steady boating. Two more days of serious work, one up Bosley to the Royal Oak swing bridge and the next to Poynton will see us home.