These things can take time...

Everything took just a bit longer than expected today, but we got there in the end. Setting off at half eight, Sheila steering and myself locking, we found Simon the lockkeeper just come on duty and were soon working down the Bratch. However, when Sanity Again was in the middle chamber, Simon asked me to wait before drawing the paddles to start the bottom chamber filling.

This was because there was a solitary tiny duckling swimming about in it and he wanted to rescue it before it got washed away. He went off to find a thing like a riddle for garden soil on a bit of a pole, with which he unsuccessfully chased the cheeping scrap of pin feathers up and down the lock. Finally, another boat arrived at the bottom and its single handed steerer managed to catch the little beast in his hand and take it off.

As I was waiting for the two chambers to equalise, he told me that a fishing match was just setting up down below. In fact this match extended most of the way to the Botterham staircase, right past Bumble Hole lock to which I walked. Sheila was able to maintain a steady pace for most of the time as they hadn't started fishing – we were just glad we hadn't left it any later to set off.

Botterham is a very straightforward two chamber staircase which nonetheless held us up for some time. This was because there were two boats to come up and the lockwheeler off the second of them was one of those tedious people (this is a euphemism) who, not really understanding what they are doing, nevertheless feel able to order everyone else around. The folk on the first boat, At Last, whom we've seen around once or twice before, were being driven crazy by him trying to draw paddles in the wrong order.

To work a staircase like this, you always have to start with the top chamber full and the lower one empty, so it makes no odds which way the boat comes through, up or down, but this guy couldn't see this and insisted his boat should go through before us "because it would be easier". In the end, I let him get on with it.

To quote Schiller: "Mit der Dummheit kämpfen die Götter selbst vergebens"*

Finally we were able to take our turn, by which time there were two other boats waiting at the bottom, the first of which was a Napton hireboat on its way back to Autherley for tomorrow morning, so under just a bit of time pressure. Nonetheless, its crew were models of considerate boaters. As so often, it's not the hirers who are the problem.

Sheila wanted to get some exercise, so I took over steering whilst she walked to Marsh, Swindon and Hinksford locks. Marsh and Swindon always seem a bit out of place on this canal, a little bit of urban waterway in the midst of the countryside, but they are very pleasant to work and we've had good meals at the Green Man just down the road.

It was now nearly half eleven and we were thinking of stopping, but one attempt at mooring only resulted in us getting well and truly stemmed up, so we decided to carry on to Greensforge anyway. There is just one length of visitor mooring above the lock, but it's for a banana shaped boat, so Sheila worked one more lock and we've tied on the useful but shady moorings below.

It's been a quiet afternoon, though the weather remains very cool for the time of year. We're down to our last couple of scuttles of coal and I may, for the first time ever, I think, have to buy coal in May.

Tomorrow, on to Kinver, ducks, anglers and strange boat crew permitting.


*"Against stupidity, the Gods themselves contend in vain." This sort of thing sounds so much better in German!

Slogging it down to Greensforge

We'd planned to start down The Bratch at eight today, having checked with the lockie yesterday that that's when he opens up, but didn't wake properly (after a poor night, blame the Co-op tortelloni) until seven. However we still made it, just, and had a straightforward trip down that odd flight of three. Mark the lockie is a very pleasant and knowledgable chap, a boater of forty years, so much the same level of experience as ourselves. He was assisted by just one volockie this morning, though there were three volunteers about yesterday

As Sanity Again sank in the bottom lock, I was told to get on and the two lockies closed up behind us. As I did so, Sheila said "I thought you were walking to Bumble Hole?"

"I was," I said, "but the lockie told me to get on the boat and I always do as the lockie tells me." Many moons ago, I anticipated an instruction from a lockie at Foxton, the fabled and dreaded Mick, and after that I've always done as I'm told ;). Well, by lockies, anyway.

So I rode to Bumble Hole lock, just round the corner, worked us down it then hopped on with the intention of riding to Botterham too. Unfortunately I misread the Pearson's Guide and got Sheila to drop me at the wrong bridge, leaving me with about a mile to walk to the staircase. It's a while since I've had that classic lockwheeler's experience of trudging on and on and on, wondering where the h*ll the damn lock has got to.

Once there, at last, I soon had it set up, top lock full (it was already) and bottom lock empty. As we finished, a boat appeared from below so I didn't need to close up. The thing is, the next five locks really are all within walking distance, so I ended up hoofing it for most of the morning. At Hinksford I took over steering and let Sheila finish that one. She then rode for a couple of bridges before hopping off to suss the mooring opportunities at Greensforge.

There turned out to be a long long length of long term moorings, mostly vacant, then one boat length of visitor mooring before the water point, occupied. So we stopped to water and have a mid morning cup of coffee. There was a load of space below the lock and we found a spot reasonably clear of the shade. It's very pleasant here.

This afternoon, we managed to find the Ashwood Nurseries garden centre nearby, another walk along a couple of roads but not too problematic with grass verges most of the way. Just before getting to the garden centre you cross a strange single track iron road bridge over the Ashwood Arm that houses Ashwood marina. It's much larger than you'd think from what you can see from the mainline.

Sheila bought some petunias and a spearmint plant and has now planted up the other troughs and the big blue pot. It's been raining on and off all afternoon, just what the new planting needs.

Meanwhile, I've solved the Pages problem from yesterday by finding the install disc for iWork '09 and putting the old, fully featured version of Pages on the new laptop.

Tomorrow, on through Stourton Junction and Stewponey Lock to Kinver.

Location:Greensforge

Classical reverie

The main concern today was "would the pump out at Kinver be working?" as there was maybe 48 hours left in the toilet tank. I'm pleased to say that yes it was and it took just five minutes of the available six to empty the tank. I didn't bother even rigging our rinse hose, it just wasn't worth it for what would be one brief rinse at most. I was slightly out yesterday, by the way, it's a swingeing £16.75 for those six minutes of pumping. There is at least a pause button.

We needed to fill the water tank as well, so Sheila took care of that whilst I dealt with the opposite process, thus maintaining a safe distance between the foul and fresh water. We were all done by eight and set off again, Sheila steering and your interloc(k)utor locking. Having worked up Kinver to get to the service station, the first lock afterwards was Hyde.

Pearson's tells us that this used to be the site of a major iron works with 20 puddle furnaces, whatever they might have been. Now, all that's left is the delightful manager's house on the towpath side just beyond the lock landing. The rest is bosky woodland with nary a sign of the former industrial activity. As I waited for Sanity Again to arrive, I was reminded of Shelley's Ozymandias:

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:

And on the pedestal these words appear:

'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away."

It's one of my favourites.

On we went, chuggity chug along the last of the best of this canal, up Stewponey and through Stourton Junction, which I missed as I was getting the washing machine running, filling it with hot water from the calorifier with the aid of a two litre jug we keep for the purpose.

The locks come fairly steadily, Gothersley, Rocky and finally Greensforge. We'd thought of stopping below the lock, but it's both narrow and shaded, so worked up and found that the single length of visitor mooring at the top was on a bend and unusable for us. So we've come on to just beyond the long term moorings and tied on the towpath. It's quite sunny here and very quiet.

After lunch, I checked the prop, which proved to have a chunk of greenery and some plastic wound tightly round the shaft, thus explaining the tiller shake and slow progress of the final stretch. There's a lot of cut grass and weed floating about at the moment, the towpath having just had a hedge to edge cut.

Not sure where we'll stop tomorrow – top of The Bratch possibly.