Things went pretty much to plan today, with a relaxed start at half eight. I worked Sheila up Kinver Lock and we tied on the waterpoint. It's a very good pressure there so, although the tank had been pretty low, it was filled in good time and before we were ready to start the washing machine. This last load meant that Sheila has now caught up with the backlog from the horrible wet weather.
It's the downside of having the smaller, "studio" machine that it takes quite a time to process such a pile up, towels in this case. No matter, once the tank was filled, I walked on to Hyde Lock, one of the contenders for best placed lock in the system, especially on a fine spring day like today.
Once up, I got the machine started whilst Sheila navigated the pound to Stewponey. It's not the most difficult of them, fortunately, and by the time I'd got it all done, we weren't that far from the lock. CRT has trouble making up it's mind about the spelling – the sign by the lock says Stewpony whilst the sign for the visitor moorings uses the usual spelling, Stewponey.
The name comes from the Stewponey Inn that used to be just over the road junction. It's said to originate, as with so many odd pub names, with a returning soldier from the Peninsular War who had fought at Estepona. The pub has gone now, replaced by an apartment block. It's a shame, in its final incarnation, it was a classic 1930's road house.
We've tied slightly uncomfortably on rings that leave the lines rather square to the boat. The concrete edge both slopes into the water, necessitating the use of the tyre fenders, and makes it impossible to use a piling chain to form a spring. Passing boats are thus inclined to bump us about a bit, especially those who haven't had the memo about slowing down past moored boats.
There's been a fair amount of traffic, including several Starline boats who are clearly recommended to boat to here and wind in the junction, presumably for a four day break. Most unusual sight was two CRT guys towing a little dinghy a bit like a Sportyak loaded well above the gunwales with the parts for access staging. We helped them work it round the outside of Sanity Again and they disappeared off down the lock.
This afternoon, we took a walk round the junction and up the Stourton flight of four locks, the route we'll be using tomorrow. It all looks reasonably straightforward and we're looking forward to revisiting some water we've only done once before.
Showing posts with label Stewponey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stewponey. Show all posts
Wednesday, 9 May 2018
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Gently North in the wet
4th & 5th August
With only the short cruise to Kinver in prospect, we made a relaxed start yesterday; it was important not to get there too soon, so that some boats would have moved off the ever popular 24 hour moorings there. I took it very steadily on the tiller for the same reason, and to demonstrate that I can do easy cruising when I've a mind to.
In any event, as I said the other day, it's a glorious bit of canal, the weather, although not blazing sun was very pleasant, and it was just great to be boating. We noted in passing that Fulbourne was still on the towpath mooring where we saw her last.
All in all, it took us two and a half hours from Wolverley to Kinver, so we got there just in nice time to shop and then have lunch.
A quiet afternoon followed – the main task for me was making a start on a section of the quiz I've offered as entertainment for the Braidbar event in September. It's all actually Sheila's idea (getting my defence in first), and this bit is one of her brainwaves.
There's a regular puzzle in the back of the Saturday Independent magazine called Get the Picture, where you have to work out a set of names or phrases from photos representing the syllables of the words, rebus fashion. We are assembling one for canal related names, using mainly photos I've taken, supplemented with images from the Web.
Yesterday I had to get my head round using PhotoShop to put the things together. In no way a major task for anyone used to image handling, it took me a while to discover the best way of tackling it, so there was a distinct sense of achievement when I got the first one to work.
Sheila was less successful in her endeavour, through no fault of her own. She checked up the recycling site we've used before to see if there was anywhere before Autherley where we could unload some of the stuff we are lugging around.
South Staffordshire must be at the bottom of whatever league table there is for such matters. Their unhappy residents only get their general rubbish collected every other week, and paper once per month.
And that's it: no glass, cans, or cardboard, much less plastic. There were a couple of public sites where you could get rid of one or other of paper, glass or cans. Big deal.
Whilst in rant mode, let me return to the matter of these bollards ( a word that keeps springing to my mind in various connections). BW have decided, in their wisdom, that every narrow lock in the country should have three bollards on the offside, to which the only possible response is why?
In the days of horse drawn boats, or on those flights where a working pair regularly had to bow haul the butty through a flight of narrow locks, there was a need for a checking stump at each end to use to slow the boat in the lock, but these days, it's hard to tell what earthly purpose they can serve.
You shouldn't tie a boat when descending a lock, and anyway it makes sense to take it well forward to avoid cilling the back end. Coming up the lock you might choose to use a checking stump to stop the boat running forward, but how many will bother even when the things are there?
They've already fitted them to the Delph Nine and the Stourbridge 16. They've used incongruous looking square wooden bollards neatly set in a square of bricks. Putting them in like that on every narrow lock in the country will cost several million pounds, I guess, which BW could be spending on dredging or cutting back offside tree growth, rather than installing expensive trip hazards in this way.
Anyway, rant over, but I would love to hear from anyone who can shed any light on this barmy decision.
Today was very wet, so we were pleased to have an excuse not to boat off first thing. An excellent guy by the name of Andy Greener had offered to call in on his way north for a business meeting, to lend me the upgrade discs for my iBook, to take it from Mac OS 10.3.9 to 10.4. I won't bore you all with the ins and outs of this, but it's no longer available form Apple, and I could use the upgrade for reasons to do with planned present for both of us for later this year.
He made it by the end of the morning; many, many thanks for taking the trouble, Andy.
After lunch, we set off up the lock to the sanitary station, where we pumped out and watered. I'm pleased to say that my work rewiring the supply cable paid off handsomely. The pump worked much more quickly, and did its best job ever at emptying the tank, such that for the first time we had a green light on the tank gauge when we'd finished.
When all was done, Sheila did a bit of very wet boating to get us to the Round House above Stewponey, where we've stopped for the night with a sigh of relief. It was wet and miserable enough that we've lit the stove to dry the boat out.
Tomorrow it's back to early starts to get up the Bratch in good time.
With only the short cruise to Kinver in prospect, we made a relaxed start yesterday; it was important not to get there too soon, so that some boats would have moved off the ever popular 24 hour moorings there. I took it very steadily on the tiller for the same reason, and to demonstrate that I can do easy cruising when I've a mind to.
In any event, as I said the other day, it's a glorious bit of canal, the weather, although not blazing sun was very pleasant, and it was just great to be boating. We noted in passing that Fulbourne was still on the towpath mooring where we saw her last.
All in all, it took us two and a half hours from Wolverley to Kinver, so we got there just in nice time to shop and then have lunch.
A quiet afternoon followed – the main task for me was making a start on a section of the quiz I've offered as entertainment for the Braidbar event in September. It's all actually Sheila's idea (getting my defence in first), and this bit is one of her brainwaves.
There's a regular puzzle in the back of the Saturday Independent magazine called Get the Picture, where you have to work out a set of names or phrases from photos representing the syllables of the words, rebus fashion. We are assembling one for canal related names, using mainly photos I've taken, supplemented with images from the Web.
Yesterday I had to get my head round using PhotoShop to put the things together. In no way a major task for anyone used to image handling, it took me a while to discover the best way of tackling it, so there was a distinct sense of achievement when I got the first one to work.
Sheila was less successful in her endeavour, through no fault of her own. She checked up the recycling site we've used before to see if there was anywhere before Autherley where we could unload some of the stuff we are lugging around.
South Staffordshire must be at the bottom of whatever league table there is for such matters. Their unhappy residents only get their general rubbish collected every other week, and paper once per month.
And that's it: no glass, cans, or cardboard, much less plastic. There were a couple of public sites where you could get rid of one or other of paper, glass or cans. Big deal.
Whilst in rant mode, let me return to the matter of these bollards ( a word that keeps springing to my mind in various connections). BW have decided, in their wisdom, that every narrow lock in the country should have three bollards on the offside, to which the only possible response is why?
In the days of horse drawn boats, or on those flights where a working pair regularly had to bow haul the butty through a flight of narrow locks, there was a need for a checking stump at each end to use to slow the boat in the lock, but these days, it's hard to tell what earthly purpose they can serve.
You shouldn't tie a boat when descending a lock, and anyway it makes sense to take it well forward to avoid cilling the back end. Coming up the lock you might choose to use a checking stump to stop the boat running forward, but how many will bother even when the things are there?
They've already fitted them to the Delph Nine and the Stourbridge 16. They've used incongruous looking square wooden bollards neatly set in a square of bricks. Putting them in like that on every narrow lock in the country will cost several million pounds, I guess, which BW could be spending on dredging or cutting back offside tree growth, rather than installing expensive trip hazards in this way.
Anyway, rant over, but I would love to hear from anyone who can shed any light on this barmy decision.
Today was very wet, so we were pleased to have an excuse not to boat off first thing. An excellent guy by the name of Andy Greener had offered to call in on his way north for a business meeting, to lend me the upgrade discs for my iBook, to take it from Mac OS 10.3.9 to 10.4. I won't bore you all with the ins and outs of this, but it's no longer available form Apple, and I could use the upgrade for reasons to do with planned present for both of us for later this year.
He made it by the end of the morning; many, many thanks for taking the trouble, Andy.
After lunch, we set off up the lock to the sanitary station, where we pumped out and watered. I'm pleased to say that my work rewiring the supply cable paid off handsomely. The pump worked much more quickly, and did its best job ever at emptying the tank, such that for the first time we had a green light on the tank gauge when we'd finished.
When all was done, Sheila did a bit of very wet boating to get us to the Round House above Stewponey, where we've stopped for the night with a sigh of relief. It was wet and miserable enough that we've lit the stove to dry the boat out.
Tomorrow it's back to early starts to get up the Bratch in good time.
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
Escape from the BCN
29th & 30th July
No sooner had I finished the last blog post than we had a couple of calls on our good will. The first was straightforward; a Black Prince boat, Felicity, came in to tie in front of us, and in the course of doing so, dropped one of their mooring pins into the cut.
I was just finishing off the blog, so Sheila went out with the magnet, and I joined her as soon as I was free. It took a while to find it, mainly because they'd lost track of just where the boat had been when the pin went in (so easy to do).
When I finally tried casting a good bit forward of where the boat had ended up, I found the thing on the second attempt. They were ever so grateful, but as we were standing nattering, the rain started and we all ran for cover in our respective boats.
Later in the evening, as I was starting to cook dinner, there came a knocking on the side of the boat. This proved to be a beggar, looking for the price of a cup of tea. He had some sad tale to tell, a bit hard to make out through the slurred words, but he seemed very satisfied with the couple of quid I shelled out, and lurched off into the murk.
Later still, it fairly thundered down for a good couple of hours, so I hope he was able to find some shelter. Despite the thunder storm, the night remained very muggy, and neither of us slept well. At least this made it easy to make an early start, as we wanted to get down both Delph and Stourbridge locks, and find a mooring in the basin at the end of the Town Arm.
Sheila got on the bike, and we made good time down the Delph "nine" (in fact eight) locks. They were easy to work, and we had some help with a couple, not from John, the well known huffler around here, but from another guy, Bill, who looked a lot like the night before's beggar. He had his own windlass in his belt, but at eight in the morning he was also drinking from a can of strong lager which he stowed in his jacket top pocket between swigs.
There was a lot of water coming down the flight, which posed a problem at the bottom. Even with the top paddles open on the bottom lock, when I drew the gate paddles of the lock above, water started cascading over the locksides. Soon Sheila was wading above the height of her boots in order to get to the balance beam, and it was streaming down the towpath beside the lock and into the cut at the bottom. Once she'd got the top gate open, she drew a bottom paddle, and had to wait quite a while for the level in the pound above to come under control.
Once through Black Delph Junction, we set off along a seriously grotty bit of canal, both scenically and in terms of the state of the water. It was one of those rare bits of decayed urban canal which conforms to the stereotype of a stinking ditch held by those who don't know the real wonders of the waterways.
We had to stop to remove some sacking from the prop at one point, but at last made it to Leys Junction and the top of the Stourbridge 16. Sheila had a problem with the top lock here – there was so much junk in the water it was difficult to open the top gate, and then it refused to close against the cill after I'd put Sanity in.
A bit of juggling with it and prodding around with the short shaft finally got it to seal, and we set off down the flight.
It's a real shame, the 16. If the locals would only care for it a bit, it would be as nice to work up and down as Atherstone, say, but all the houses turn their backs on it with high fences, and the water remains full of crud, though not as bad as in the length above.
Sheila had a chat with one old guy as she waited for a lock to fill. He agreed that it was a disgrace, but explained that although some of the locals did try to clean it up, the indifference of most and the vandalism of a few meant that it soon reverted back to its current state.
Further down we did see one guy walking along with a litter picker and two large black plastic sacks. Only thing was, when Sheila first saw him, he was just chucking the litter into the cut, and only started putting it in a bag when he saw us watching. Later on, we met him again coming back up the flight, this time only carrying one sack. A couple of locks further down, there was a full black bag floating in the water...
You do hear tales of problems with aggressive youths around here, but we didn't have any particular problems, although it was late morning by the time we reached the bottom. Here we made the turn onto the Town Arm, and after thirty minutes steady boating along a much more pleasant stretch, found ourselves in the terminal basin. On the way we saw two kingfishers (or the same one twice), so the water quality is clearly not too bad.
We were made welcome by the Stourbridge Canal Trust who operate the basin, and had a mooring for the night without any difficulty. It's a 10 minute walk uphill from the basin to the town centre, which has a decent range of shops including a Waitrose.
Mooring outside the basin is not recommended, apparently, and it was certainly quite noisy overnight, especially when the pubs and clubs started chucking out. Indigo Dreaming, however, has recently reported finding a couple of boats who'd spent the night on the rings outside, without any trouble.
This morning we had a relaxed start, then Sheila steered back to the junction and we turned down the final section of the Stourbridge. This is indeed one of the most beautiful bits of canal we've ever cruised, well up there with the Caldon and the Llangollen, although quite short. Even if you've no desire to see Netherton Tunnel or the BCN, it would be well worth your while to come up the easy four locks at Stourton and cruise this bit into Stourbridge and back.
Altogether, it took a bit under two hours to get to Stourton Junction, where we've tied between the bridge and Stewponey Lock.
We've now got a week to kill, as we want to be at Autherley on Friday the eighth. We had planned to take our time getting there, or to go past onto the Shroppie and make the run up to Brewood, but we've decided (plan C then) to go on down to Stourport again. It is another gorgeous bit of canal, and it will just neatly take up the time.
No sooner had I finished the last blog post than we had a couple of calls on our good will. The first was straightforward; a Black Prince boat, Felicity, came in to tie in front of us, and in the course of doing so, dropped one of their mooring pins into the cut.
I was just finishing off the blog, so Sheila went out with the magnet, and I joined her as soon as I was free. It took a while to find it, mainly because they'd lost track of just where the boat had been when the pin went in (so easy to do).
When I finally tried casting a good bit forward of where the boat had ended up, I found the thing on the second attempt. They were ever so grateful, but as we were standing nattering, the rain started and we all ran for cover in our respective boats.
Later in the evening, as I was starting to cook dinner, there came a knocking on the side of the boat. This proved to be a beggar, looking for the price of a cup of tea. He had some sad tale to tell, a bit hard to make out through the slurred words, but he seemed very satisfied with the couple of quid I shelled out, and lurched off into the murk.
Later still, it fairly thundered down for a good couple of hours, so I hope he was able to find some shelter. Despite the thunder storm, the night remained very muggy, and neither of us slept well. At least this made it easy to make an early start, as we wanted to get down both Delph and Stourbridge locks, and find a mooring in the basin at the end of the Town Arm.
Sheila got on the bike, and we made good time down the Delph "nine" (in fact eight) locks. They were easy to work, and we had some help with a couple, not from John, the well known huffler around here, but from another guy, Bill, who looked a lot like the night before's beggar. He had his own windlass in his belt, but at eight in the morning he was also drinking from a can of strong lager which he stowed in his jacket top pocket between swigs.
There was a lot of water coming down the flight, which posed a problem at the bottom. Even with the top paddles open on the bottom lock, when I drew the gate paddles of the lock above, water started cascading over the locksides. Soon Sheila was wading above the height of her boots in order to get to the balance beam, and it was streaming down the towpath beside the lock and into the cut at the bottom. Once she'd got the top gate open, she drew a bottom paddle, and had to wait quite a while for the level in the pound above to come under control.
Once through Black Delph Junction, we set off along a seriously grotty bit of canal, both scenically and in terms of the state of the water. It was one of those rare bits of decayed urban canal which conforms to the stereotype of a stinking ditch held by those who don't know the real wonders of the waterways.
We had to stop to remove some sacking from the prop at one point, but at last made it to Leys Junction and the top of the Stourbridge 16. Sheila had a problem with the top lock here – there was so much junk in the water it was difficult to open the top gate, and then it refused to close against the cill after I'd put Sanity in.
A bit of juggling with it and prodding around with the short shaft finally got it to seal, and we set off down the flight.
It's a real shame, the 16. If the locals would only care for it a bit, it would be as nice to work up and down as Atherstone, say, but all the houses turn their backs on it with high fences, and the water remains full of crud, though not as bad as in the length above.
Sheila had a chat with one old guy as she waited for a lock to fill. He agreed that it was a disgrace, but explained that although some of the locals did try to clean it up, the indifference of most and the vandalism of a few meant that it soon reverted back to its current state.
Further down we did see one guy walking along with a litter picker and two large black plastic sacks. Only thing was, when Sheila first saw him, he was just chucking the litter into the cut, and only started putting it in a bag when he saw us watching. Later on, we met him again coming back up the flight, this time only carrying one sack. A couple of locks further down, there was a full black bag floating in the water...
You do hear tales of problems with aggressive youths around here, but we didn't have any particular problems, although it was late morning by the time we reached the bottom. Here we made the turn onto the Town Arm, and after thirty minutes steady boating along a much more pleasant stretch, found ourselves in the terminal basin. On the way we saw two kingfishers (or the same one twice), so the water quality is clearly not too bad.
We were made welcome by the Stourbridge Canal Trust who operate the basin, and had a mooring for the night without any difficulty. It's a 10 minute walk uphill from the basin to the town centre, which has a decent range of shops including a Waitrose.
Mooring outside the basin is not recommended, apparently, and it was certainly quite noisy overnight, especially when the pubs and clubs started chucking out. Indigo Dreaming, however, has recently reported finding a couple of boats who'd spent the night on the rings outside, without any trouble.
This morning we had a relaxed start, then Sheila steered back to the junction and we turned down the final section of the Stourbridge. This is indeed one of the most beautiful bits of canal we've ever cruised, well up there with the Caldon and the Llangollen, although quite short. Even if you've no desire to see Netherton Tunnel or the BCN, it would be well worth your while to come up the easy four locks at Stourton and cruise this bit into Stourbridge and back.
Altogether, it took a bit under two hours to get to Stourton Junction, where we've tied between the bridge and Stewponey Lock.
We've now got a week to kill, as we want to be at Autherley on Friday the eighth. We had planned to take our time getting there, or to go past onto the Shroppie and make the run up to Brewood, but we've decided (plan C then) to go on down to Stourport again. It is another gorgeous bit of canal, and it will just neatly take up the time.
Labels:
Stewponey,
Stourbridge
Friday, 29 February 2008
Kinver - great village, great service
28th & 29th February
I forgot to mention a milestone last time. At about the same time as I started this blog, I started using to Sitemeter to count the number of hits my main site had, and a little later I added the feature to the blog. During the weekend, the count passed 10,000 hits – small beer by the standards of the mega blogs, but very gratifying to me.
Incidentally, as it says at the bottom of this page, I don't use Sitemeter to identify individuals, only their approximate location and stuff like which way they arrived at the site, such as from a Google search or by clicking through from another blog.
Yesterday we made another prompt start, and had a glorious day's boating, especially after we'd got clear of the light industry around Woodbourne. Next stop was Swindon (no, not the one in Wiltshire), where we got bread and a paper before going on to Stewponey for lunch.
That is not to suggest the nature of the lunch – the name comes from an old hotel, now gone, which in turn was approximately named for Estepona, a place which featured in the Peninsular War.
After lunch we went on to Kinver, finding a mooring below the lock. Odd thing – Kinver is a really nice place to stop for a few days – there are walks you can do, and the village itself is really interesting, but all the visitor moorings are 24 hours only.
Despite being well exercised after working 12 locks, Sheila then cut up a bit of firewood before we settled down for a quiet afternoon and evening.
This morning we took the cratch cover into Wilsons at nine, and were told to go away and they'd ring us when it was ready. We went into the village to get supplies – there is a good, genuine family butchers, where we got some prewar sausages as well as a chicken. Apparently, sausages used to be bound with bread crumbs, but in the wartime shortages, butchers went over to using wheat rusk, and have never gone back.
We also called at the bakers for a nice loaf of bread, and were just finishing off in the Co-op when the phone rang. It was Wilsons to say that the cover was ready. We called in to pick it up on the way back to the boat – they've done an excellent job of the repair, and, what's more, didn't charge us. Because the cover is less than five years old, it's covered by the warranty. All praise to Wilsons, not the cheapest on the market, but great after sales service.
We got back to the boat with most of the day ahead of us, so decided we might as well set off back. Sheila steered down to the winding hole, and then back to the lock, whilst I made mugs of coffee.
After locking up, we tied at the service block and did another pump out, getting rid of the sludge from the bottom of the tank that I had loosened when working on the Tankwatch sender the other day.
We got to Stewponey just as the rain started, and we've tied by Stourton Junction for the night. After lunch I did a full engine service, and I've just uploaded the website to its new home at www.nbsanity.me.uk.
I forgot to mention a milestone last time. At about the same time as I started this blog, I started using to Sitemeter to count the number of hits my main site had, and a little later I added the feature to the blog. During the weekend, the count passed 10,000 hits – small beer by the standards of the mega blogs, but very gratifying to me.
Incidentally, as it says at the bottom of this page, I don't use Sitemeter to identify individuals, only their approximate location and stuff like which way they arrived at the site, such as from a Google search or by clicking through from another blog.
Yesterday we made another prompt start, and had a glorious day's boating, especially after we'd got clear of the light industry around Woodbourne. Next stop was Swindon (no, not the one in Wiltshire), where we got bread and a paper before going on to Stewponey for lunch.
That is not to suggest the nature of the lunch – the name comes from an old hotel, now gone, which in turn was approximately named for Estepona, a place which featured in the Peninsular War.
After lunch we went on to Kinver, finding a mooring below the lock. Odd thing – Kinver is a really nice place to stop for a few days – there are walks you can do, and the village itself is really interesting, but all the visitor moorings are 24 hours only.
Despite being well exercised after working 12 locks, Sheila then cut up a bit of firewood before we settled down for a quiet afternoon and evening.
This morning we took the cratch cover into Wilsons at nine, and were told to go away and they'd ring us when it was ready. We went into the village to get supplies – there is a good, genuine family butchers, where we got some prewar sausages as well as a chicken. Apparently, sausages used to be bound with bread crumbs, but in the wartime shortages, butchers went over to using wheat rusk, and have never gone back.
We also called at the bakers for a nice loaf of bread, and were just finishing off in the Co-op when the phone rang. It was Wilsons to say that the cover was ready. We called in to pick it up on the way back to the boat – they've done an excellent job of the repair, and, what's more, didn't charge us. Because the cover is less than five years old, it's covered by the warranty. All praise to Wilsons, not the cheapest on the market, but great after sales service.
We got back to the boat with most of the day ahead of us, so decided we might as well set off back. Sheila steered down to the winding hole, and then back to the lock, whilst I made mugs of coffee.
After locking up, we tied at the service block and did another pump out, getting rid of the sludge from the bottom of the tank that I had loosened when working on the Tankwatch sender the other day.
We got to Stewponey just as the rain started, and we've tied by Stourton Junction for the night. After lunch I did a full engine service, and I've just uploaded the website to its new home at www.nbsanity.me.uk.
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