South of the tunnel

I've said before that long tunnels form psychological boundaries, at least for me. Harecastle certainly does, so that coming south through it makes for a feeling of being on the way home. We got going at around twenty past seven, following another boat to the paired locks, up which we worked in great amity, helping each other out as needed.

I took to going ahead, once Sanity Again was rising in the lock, and setting the next pair so that we fairly zoomed along. When we got to the service wharf, there was a boat using the tap by the pump out cupboard, but they very kindly moved back to make room for us. We'd realised that, as we had a card for CRT pump outs, we didn't need to trouble the folk at Etruria at all.

One word of advice – after you've inserted the card, the light for "card accepted" comes on but nothing else seems to happen, no sound of a pump starting up. Do not panic, just wait until the ready light comes on, just like it tells you, and open the valve on the probe. I'd had a bit of trouble getting the probe to go down into the deck fitting, finally standing on it as usual. This was all fine, but when the tank was empty, I went to pull the probe out and pop it into the water to clear the pipe.

It wouldn't come out.

In the end, it took the two of us to hoick it out, by which time the pump had stopped. It's done a good pump out, however, much better than the one we had, for more money, at Stone the other week.

Off we went again, washing machine chugging away, up the final three locks of the climb. There was one boat waiting at the tunnel portal and we were told we had a forty minute wait to go in. That was no trouble, we got a cup of coffee and hung about, chatting to the other boats waiting. In the event, it was half ten before we were heading in there.

The sand bar has reappeared at the entrance to the tunnel, which gave Sheila a bit of bother getting the bow round and the boat lined up, but once in there, she boated through in fine style.

We got to Westport Lake by half eleven and found plenty of room. Two of the boats which followed us through the tunnel have tied near us. One, Wandering Snail, is crewed by fellow Canal World forumites Peter and Stacey, aka The Biscuits. We've had a good old natter with them and "Bob" off the other boat.

We even talked about toilets for a bit.

Tomorrow, we'll head on down through Stoke to Barlaston.

Sunshine and irritation

It's been a very mixed 24 hours – nothing dramatically good or bad but definitely some diamond and some stone. For a start, we had a bad night, partly due to the weather. With heavy rain forecast, we started out with the bedroom Houdini shut, relying on leaving the doors to the rest of the boat open to keep us a bit cool.

It didn't really work as we woke at around two o'clock, sweltering. I put the Houdini on its propped open on a cork position, which helped, and we tried to get off again. At this very point, a track maintenance train pulled up nearby with much squealing of brakes and sat there for about 30 minutes, panting softly to itself. Presumably, they had found a problem with the track which needed attention, fair enough, but still not exactly relaxing.

Of course, lying awake at that time of night involves brooding on a lot of things you really shouldn't be thinking about if you want to relax. I won't bore you with them here, I'm sure you've got a set of your own.

We finally got off again, rather in the manner of the Lord Chancellor's "repose in the form of a doze with hot eyeballs and head ever aching," and woke a bit before (me)/after (Sheila) six. At least it meant that we got a prompt start just before eight.

It was a good morning's boating, four solid hours up to Westport Lake. The washing and the washing up got done, the locks were reasonably co-operative and there were no less than four volockies at Etruria. There's a Canalfest there this weekend, so there were folk all over the place setting it up. The Bone and Flint Mill was very much "in steam" – when we got up to the arm next to it, four guys were standing around outside whilst steam poured in large volumes out of the door, the windows, the spaces between the roof slates...

I'm not sure it's supposed to be like that, you know.

On we went along the top pound. It's a bit down, so Sanity Again couldn't quite get up to her usual 4 mph on the deep bit, but still an exhilarating run. Plenty of room to tie at Westport Lake when we got here at noon, but it's filled up now.

This afternoon's cause of irritation was the boat which chose to tie immediately in front of us, get out a Honda suitcase genny and run it positioned so that the exhaust was behind their boat and so poured over our well deck. I can quite see that some boats can only run a washing machine, say, in this way. We can't all have high output alternators and inverters or a TravelPower. But in that case, some consideration should be shown as to when you do it.

Preferably not in the middle of a popular mooring on a sunny day in half term week, people strolling around all over the place with kids and dogs. At least tie at the end of the moorings where you'll cause minimum inconvenience, not smack in the middle. We kept our bow doors closed and a sharp eye on the CO detector for the two hours this went on.

Hey ho, they've stopped now and peace has descended once more.

Tomorrow, we'll make a half seven start to get to the tunnel in time for the first passage at eight.

Once more into the tunnel, dear friends

The plan for this cruise is to put in some long (for us) days at the start, so as to get back in ten days rather than our usual two weeks. Accordingly, we’ve come from Congleton to Westport Lake without stopping at Hall Green as we would normally. Admittedly, we’d usually go on to Etruria, but this is a better place for exercising Sally.

So we got away at half eight, Sheila steering as the rest of us got ourselves sorted out. It was a fine morning, though cold after a chilly night. Sheila was on fine form, making it through the tricky multiple bridges by the Queen’s Head without touching the sides of the bent towpath. At Hall Green, we found Andy Grindrod, former Braidbar fitter, watering his boat Northern Soul. He’s gone freelance now and is available over a wide area for fitting and maintenance work, the quality of which can be seen in various areas of Sanity Again. He’s on 07709 166240 if you're interested.

Sheila’s form continued for the turns in the flyover approach to Hardings Wood Junction and round the junction itself. We had to hang around at the tunnel for a bit as a small GRP cruiser had been sent in ahead of us. Being powered by a petrol outboard, the rules require it to be given a ten to fifteen minute start to ensure that the exhaust has been drawn away by the fans at the southern portal.

The three other boats then went in with us as tail-end Charlie. This was a bit of bad luck as the boat in front of us was Elk, smoking away like fury. To be fair, it is 72 years old, but poor Sheila emerged from the other end feeling kippered and slightly sick. The low section in the middle had been a severe trial – she’d had to drop to tickover as she just couldn't see where she was going. I think she’d rather have taken her chances with the petrol fumes.

Meanwhile, Elanor stayed out on the front, Sally keeping her company for some of the time whilst trying to persuade her to come below. It being midday, I did the washing up and then ate lunch. Forty minutes later, we were heading for Westport where we found plenty of room, though it’s now filled up pretty completely.

We’ve had a walk round the lake, accompanied by a frankly reluctant Sally who clearly felt that after all the stress of the tunnel she should be allowed to stay behind and sleep. Once she gave up on the protest, she fairly shot round in order to get home again as soon as possible. When we got back, we found Saunter Together tied not far in front of us, just the other side of the Candy Boat, indeed, and had a quick catch up with them before the rain came on.

Tomorrow, a more usual day, down Stoke and on to Barlaston.

Location:Westport Lake

North to Westport

In the end, we didn't go to the pub, sorry Jo! We were just too weary to stir out after dinner. It looks very smart from outside, and the entries in the BOG Pub Guide are positive.

It was a lazier start this morning as we only had about four hours to do to Westport. We were locking up Trentham at five to eight and had a good run along the pound into Stoke. It's both deep and wide, one of the few canal sections (as opposed to canalised river) where you can break the 4mph speed limit in Sanity Again.

I took the opportunity to make another batch of bread dough as we went along.

Elanor, Sally and I made short work of lock wheeling up Stoke. It helped that all the locks were with us and we had another fast run along the top pound past/through the site of Shelton steelworks. The moorings at the lake were quite busy, but we found a slot all right. Later on a three boat school cruise left and there was more choice.

We took a walk round the lake after lunch and checked out the little known sanitary facility in the base of the visitor centre. It's in the wall that faces the canal, opens with a BWB key and contains a disabled toilet and shower and an Elsan sluice. It's kept clean by the local council and doesn't appear on any of the guides.

It will be another relaxed start tomorrow, with only twenty minutes or so to the tunnel which doesn't open until eight o'clock.

Sunny Stoke

It normally rains when we traverse Stoke, but today it has been pleasantly sunny, though cool to start with. As we want to go on to the Little Morton Hall moorings tomorrow, a bit further than we normally would after passing through Harecastle, we've come on to Westport Lake rather than stopping at Etruria. In view of the longish run, we made a start at seven, Sheila steering and your present interlocutor locking, washing up, starting the washing machine and printing out the Saturday Independent Giant General Knowledge Crossword.

Never let it be said that our lifestyle is entirely indolent. My good luck in the matter of the locks continued, with all six being either with us or containing boats locking down when we got there. Indeed, the cut was quite busy by the time we got to the centre of Stoke and started up the locks. All went very smoothly until we got to the top, where I had to explain to the young man off the boat waiting to come down that the reason the lock wasn't completely filling was that one of the bottom paddles was still a few inches up.

It's a good job that there's plenty of water in the summit pound after Friday's rain, he'd been there for some time, pushing the top gate balance beam to no avail.

We would have been able to tie in front of the Toby Carvery at Etruria had we wished and there was a great deal of room at Westport when we got here, though it's filled up a bit now, naturally. We've had a walk round the lake, a chat with the chuggers (one for Staffs Wildlife Trust and one for Friends of CRT) and generally had a relaxing afternoon, though the crossword wasn't very fulfilling. Too many rock bands, obscure sportsmen and the like.

Though I did get the very first clue straight off: "Whimsical four line biographical poem invented by E C Bentley (8)". An example would be

Sir Christopher Wren

Said "I am going to dine with some men

If anyone calls

Say I'm designing St Paul's."

Answer here.

 

Pressing on to the T&M

After a decentish night’s kip, we made another seven o’clock start, planning to be at either Westport Lake or Etruria by lunch. We’d normally take two days over this bit, with a stop at the Little Morton Hall moorings or else at Hall Green, but we’re pressing on by our standards.

It was a very pleasant day, with a fair bit of sun and rather warmer than yesterday. After enduring a streaming nose all last evening, I’m now feeling much better, though inclined to sneeze explosively without warning, but Sheila is still suffering.

It was her turn to steer and a case of plodding along a pleasant enough length of canal. Depth was much better than above Bosley, indeed the pound was on its right level, so progress was quite quick, though the foliage surrounding every bridge hole necessitated slowing right down to minimise scratches.

By half nine we were at Hall Green Stop and Sheila later made an impressive, one movement, no reversing turn out of the Macc onto the Trent and Mersey at Red Bull. No other boats were waiting when we got to the north portal of Harecastle at a quarter past ten; the tunnel keeper told us that a  convoy was just reaching the other end and that there was one boat waiting to come through northbound.

This meant a 45 minute wait and the chance for a cup of coffee. The downside of being the front boat is that the angle of the towpath to the tunnel mouth makes it really hard to get Sanity Again round and in, especially as there’s a reef of silt sticking out underwater across the mouth from the towpath side.

At least the water levels were quite high; we’d heard scare stories about it being 15” down from boats coming up Bosley, but if anything the level was higher than it had been in June.

Sheila steered through whilst I did the washing up and generally loafed about below. It took forty minutes, as usual, and so it was twenty to twelve when we emerged. Since Westport Lake was twenty minutes away, we settled on that for today; the extra half hour to Etruria will soon pass tomorrow.

After lunch we’ve been pottering, cleaning boots and shoes and plant troughs and otherwise chilling out in pleasant sunshine. It’ll be a more relaxed start tomorrow, with Barlaston as the target, about three and a half hours away.

Challenging boating

If we didn't have a couple of commitments tomorrow, we'd have sat tight at Barlaston today and let this cold front blow through. But we're booked to go through Harecastle Tunnel tomorrow morning (it's the last week of the winter when you have to book a passage) and later on we're meeting up with Bill and Eileen in Congleton so that Bill can cut Sheila's hair.

So we had a quick cup of tea in bed between half six and seven, then Sheila set off boating whilst I breakfasted. After we'd worked up Trentham Lock, I took the helm whilst Sheila fed herself, then handed back to her for the run through Stoke. We were both as waterproofed as we could be, with gilets, fleeces and waterproof jackets and trousers, but we still ended up quite damp round the edges.

I did the remaining locks up to Etruria, then gave Sheila a break to warm up a bit. At the top lock we met a boat waiting to come down, but saw no others moving until we'd tied here at Westport Lake. There have been several boats past since then, all going towards the tunnel, of course. One, the Shakespeare hire boat Titania, duly came back; the others must be waiting there to go through in the morning.

As the afternoon went on, things have improved a bit, with sunny spells amongst the showers, but the wind is still a chilly nor' westerly. We've stayed snug and warm in the boat, with the fire well stoked and the cratch keeping out the worst of the wind. The wet stuff is slowly drying; the heavy gloves seem to be taking longest.

We'll make another early start in the morning, hopefully joining the first convoy through the tunnel at half eight.

Straight through Stoke

Boating through Stoke is a bit of a curate's egg; parts are classic heritage type canal, with the remains of the old potteries giving a very clear idea of the original purpose, and parts are recovering, post-industrial land, like the stretch through the site of Shelton Steelworks, but parts are just urban grot, nothing like as bad as the worst of the BCN (Garrison Locks, for example) but still pretty discouraging. On the other hand, the water is pretty deep and wide for most of it, and Sanity Again did a steady 3.8 mph for much of the morning.

For once in Stoke, the weather was pleasant; cool, admittedly, but dry and sunny for some of the time. I needed the coolth to keep me awake, it not having been the most undisturbed of nights. At around two, I was rudely awoken by a condensation drip from the Houdini above the bed going straight into my left armpit, and it took a little while to get off again.

Then at four, a burglar alarm went off somewhere in the housing estate over the canal, and  it was again a while before slumber returned. Indeed, as so often after being woken after you've had the essential first five hours, I never really slept deeply again. That said, Westport Lake continues to be a handy stop between Harecastle and the Wedgwood moorings; we'd still recommend them.

We got away just after half seven, and took just an hour to get to Etruria and the top of the Stoke Locks. Another hour's work (mostly by Sheila) saw us down them; some of the top gates leak quite badly, and number two in particular managed to cascade not just onto the stern deck, but over the closed back doors, soaking my legs and the floor of the engine 'ole.

A boat coming up warned us that Barlaston was having a mini music festival this afternoon, with live acts performing from a trailer in the Plume of Feathers car park, so we stopped at Wedgwood a bit after eleven, having taken almost exactly three and a half hours from Westport.

We walked into the village to shop, then returned to the boat to eat toasted bacon sandwiches for lunch.

We've had a quiet afternoon; Ice Breaker passed by while we were eating so Martin is now ahead of us. I just hope that he either went on beyond Barlaston, or else likes quite loud sixties and seventies music; we didn't get a chance to warn him.

Back on the T&M

We did one of our flying starts this morning, after a very good night on Congleton Aqueduct. We were the only boat there, which is unusual, but didn't feel at all at risk. There were the statutory numbers of of walkers and joggers, but once it was dark, the principal noise was that of the owls.

Several tawnies called on and off all night, and one was still going at six this morning. Sheila got up and started boating whilst I made and drank tea, then I took over so that she could get her breakfast. Not only was our overnight mooring deserted apart from ourselves, there were no boats on either set of Congleton town moorings, nor were there any on the Little Morton Hall ones.

Indeed, when we got to the north portal of Harecastle, the tunnel keeper remarked on how quiet it was. The top pound of the T&M is 3 inches down from its already reduced level for this year, which gave us a bit of hassle getting into the tunnel mouth. There's a ledge off the towpath side right in the mouth, and we took two goes to get round it.

Once in there, Sheila was able to make a steady pace, closely pursued by two Black Prince boats. The crew of the first was clearly in cheerful mood, as songs and shouts persisted from them for pretty well the whole time. We emerged around 35 minutes after entry, so a decent speed despite the low water.

We've come on to Westport Lake for the night, as planned. We had a pleasant stroll round the lake after lunch; the bird life here is more abundant than unusual, though there are more coots than you usually see on urban water. We've just been joined by Martin on Ice Breaker, who's had a long day from the bottom of Bosley.

Tomorrow, we'll carry on down our usual groove; we aim to be at the Wedgwood or Barlaston moorings before lunchtime.

Heading south through Harecastle

It’s been a day of straightforward boating; up at seven, away at eight and arriving at Harecastle just after half eleven. We had to wait around half an hour, then Sheila took Sanity Again into the tunnel just after twelve. We took around forty minutes to get through, so I had time to eat lunch. At the other end, we stopped to fill the water tank and Sheila ate.

A gentle chug along the summit pound brought us to Westport Lake. We haven't stopped here for ages, not since our OwnerShips days. There’s a good length of mooring on rings, though they are an example of genius spacing, inconvenient for all standard lengths of narrowboat, and it helps to have fenders on cabin rail hooks, as the edge is high, and a bit odd.

It was a lovely day for a stroll round the lake, which has a population of all the usual suspects, birdwise, but we did manage to spot a pair of Pochard. Added to the cormorant at Macclesfield (picture added to yesterday’s blog), we're having a bit of an odd bird trip. Long may it last.

Tomorrow, we go on to the top of Stone, so another early-ish start; we’d like to get to Barlaston in good time, so as to have fresh bread for lunch.