Ashton Boatman

A couple of our volunteers have hired a boat from Portland Basin Marina. Their plan was to go up on to the upper Peak Forest and Macclesfield canals. That idea was scuppered because Marple locks closed through lack of water. This is partly because of the lack of rain, but mainly because there are two reservoirs that need repair. They then thought they'd go up the Huddersfield Narrow instead. Lack of water, exacerbated by so many leaky lock gates, caused this to close. Ok, they thought, we'll go down the Ashton and on to the Bridgewater.

They worked down the 18 locks of the Ashton canal, only to find that the Rochdale 9 was closed because of gate problems. they tried to go up the Rochdale instead, only to find that that was closed (lack of water, leaky gates). They headed back up the Ashton but got stuck part way up the locks because of a shopping trolley jammed behind a gate. CRT cleared this the next day and I saw them in Dukinfield where they live. They set off ahead of us to enjoy a few days between Ashton and Marple.

A couple who have supported "Hazel" for many years were given a weekend on "Hazel" as a wedding anniversary present. they wanted to go up the Huddersfield Narrow. Now that it's closed they've postponed until next Spring.

I got an enquiry from a friend who lives in Cumbria. A farmer he knows is retiring and on his bucket list is going through the Anderton Lift. Could we help? I worked out a possible itinerary and cost, which was acceptable. Then we found that the Anderton Lift had closed. https://www.northwichguardian.co.uk/news/20593098.anderton-boat-lift-northwich-closed-notice/ 

This is very frustrating. Apparently the Rochdale 9 is open again with a restriction to narrow beam boats only. I have a feeling that the network is starting to fall apart. I worry that the Canal & River Trust, who run the canals, are losing interest in navigation. To give them their due, the Ashton flight has improved no-end in recent years. There is, of course, a water supply problem this year, but a single badly leaking lock gate will hugely increase the water demand of a canal.

Rant over!

The only place that we can really go with our "Hazel" guests is along the lower Peak Forest as far as Marple Aqueduct. We've just done a trip for a very pleasant family from mid Cheshire. Patricia, Geraldine, Aaron and me took them yesterday as far as the winding hole at Gee Cross. We came back about half a mile to tie among lovely woods beside Apethorn Wood and Haughton Dale  https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/visiting-woods/woods/haughton-dale/

I stayed aboard "Forget me Not". It rained all night and was a bit chilly so I lit the stove in the morning. Aaron arrived early on his bike.

When Geraldine arrived, by 'bus, we had a brew then set out on the return trip.

Our guests met some friends at Portland Basin and went for a look round the museum. They left a glowing report in "Hazel"s visitors book. A lot of people have been under a lot of stress over the last couple of years. It's nice to feel that you're doing a little bit to help.

It's been a while since I posted anything. We've been having a busy time and I haven't been taking many photos. About a fortnight ago we took the boats down to Ducie St, Manchester (or Paradise Wharf as it's been renamed) for some airbnbers.

On the return trip we managed to pick up lots of textiles on the blade.

Halfway up the flight the bracket that holds "Forget me Not"s gear change linkage broke. I removed the broken item and cycled with it to Dukinfield where our friends Dixon & Smith (Motor Engineers) welded it back together and added extra metal to make it stronger.

We had to stay where we were overnight

before carrying on up to Ashton in time to get "Hazel" ready for some wellbeing guests who just wanted to stay on board rather than go for a trip.

 Last weekend we had two Marple trips. On the Saturday we took some of Liz's Guiding friends for a trip to Marple and back. 

That turned out to take longer than expected, partly because of the water level being low so we stemmed up a couple of times and collected some impressive bladefuls.

As well as that the winding hole at Marple was clogged up with CRT work boats and it was impossible to wind without moving some. Even then, we could only wind the boats singly rather than as a breasted pair. "Community Spirit 2", which is about 50' long also did a Marple trip and had difficulty winding.

We had to move a couple of the boats. If they'd been tied a little more thoughtfully this wouldn't have been necessary.

On Sunday we took a care worker and her family to Marple, winded, then tied for the night at Chadkirk. That evening I had a meeting with Liz in the Friendship pub in Romiley. Unfortunately it has changed landlord since last time i visited and it's now a noisy sports pub.

Monday afternoon me and Aaron had a lovely uneventful trip returning our guests to Portland Basin.

 I had Tuesday to get jobs done on the boats, then it was a trip down the locks to Manchester where we're tied at Dale St, or Piccadilly Wharf as they've renamed it. There are some Airbnb guests on board now, attending a festival at Trafford Park. I'm staying on "Forget me Not" to keep things safe before we return the boats to Ashton on Monday. I haven't been able to go home as Emuna contracted covid whilst I was away.

I've been down to Rugby to visit my brother and family. On the way back I thought I'd visit the Ecclesbourne Valley Railway that runs between Duffield and Wirksworth in Derbyshire. It turned out to be diesel weekend, which was a bit disappointing for me but I nevertheless enjoyed the ride. There were classes 26, 31 and 33 in action and I enjoyed the sound of their growly old diesel engines. The class 31 was hauling a 3 car Metro cammell DMU (class 101). I don't know if its engines don't work or if they were just short of coaches. From Wirksworth a short line carries on up a 1 in 29 gradient to Ravenstor, the old limestone loading point. This was being worked by a Derby Lightweight railcar from about 1956, the sort that was used to try to save the Banbury Buckingham line. I don't think it's engine is in very good shape. As it climbed the incline it left a trail of blue smoke hanging in the air.

Diesel events attract serious railway enthusiasts. Megabytes of video and still photos were being generated, some people were writing things in notebooks and there was an atmosphere of serious study.

Opposite me on the railcar sat a fat man and a thin man, both in their 60s and dressed for a 1950s locospotters club outing. The fat man said in a disparaging tone "I think one visit is more than enough for me",. "Oh" said the thin man, the fatty continued wth a disapproving air "this line wasn't even part of the branch". "It was used for mineral traffic" the thin man ventured. "Yes" continued his friend, now sounding a little angry, "but it never had a passenger service"!  Clearly he will refrain, on principle, from the delights of the Foxfield Railway, the Leighton Buzzard Narrow Gauge Railway and the Nant Gwernol extension of the Talyllyn Railway.

Class 31 arriving at Duffield with the DMU set

The Class 33 "Crompton" at Shottle, the crossing point for trains, viewed through the rear cab of the Metro Cammell DMU.

The Derby Lightweight waits for passengers then sets out up the incline to Ravenstor.

Serious railway enthusiasts mill about in the shade of the railcar at Ravenstor.

An industrial diesel with permanent way train in a siding at Shottle.

I met Em on Ashton bus station in November 1988.  We hit it off straight away but for years and years we lived in separate establishments. Hers a neat and tidy little house, mine a leaky old boat. Eventually, sometime after I became homeless because "Hazel" sank (this was before her restoration) she allowed my scruffiness to move into her house, and I learned to live with her regular cleaning frenzies. Neither of us were really that bothered about being married, being old hippies, and we certainly didn't want a wedding with all the fuss that it entails. The trouble is that we're both getting to the time of life where Google ads frequently send us links to funeral services. When one of us pops our clogs, unwed, the survivor would have an awful time dealing with the legalities of property, pensions etc. We're not going to follow the Hindu tradition of Suttee so, barring horrible accidents, one of us has to go first. We decided to quietly slip away to Cardiff and get a couple of friends to act as witnesses.

There was a fair bit of fuss really, I had to have a bath and wear posh clothes, Em dressed up and carried flowers from Victoria and Springy's allottment. It was a lovely little ceremony and we promised all kinds of difficult things then got a bilingual certificate to prove we'd done it. Thanks to Springy, Victoria, Joy and Ric for being witnesses. Afterwards we all went for a really nice meal in a pub near Taffs Well.

I hope nobody is too upset at missing out on the wedding of the year with carriages and top hats and the blushing bride done up like a meringue. Sorry, but both of us would have hated that.

I'd like to show you the wedding pictures but the only one of her that Em will allow is this one from our honeymoon.

While we were away at the Bollington Historic Boat Gathering I had to keep popping home to check on the boats as we had no volunteers able to look after the pumps. this involved various train journeys. I like trains, even modern ones. Here's a picture of a Cross Country Voyager set rushing through Adlington as I waited for the local train to Manchester on 16th September 2016.

On the morning of the 19th I got a train from Hyde North to rose Hill then cycled along the Middlewood way to Bollington. As I waited for the train a couple of nodding donkeys (class 142) arrived on a Manchester working.

Immediately out of the station they clatter over the pointwork to join the route from Hadfield (formerly the Great Central Woodhead route)

I was surprised by a class 66 with a train of stone empties heading for the Peak District, carrying on with the kind of work that the Peak forest canal was built for.

Eventually my train arrived.

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Containing my Anger.

It was 6PM on a Tuesday evening and I had had a long day cutting planks for "Hazel" with the chainmill http://www.care2.com/c2c/photos/view/186/483743566/Cutting_planks_for__quot_Hazel_quot_/Chris%20cutting%20greenheart%20with%20chainmill%203%2011%20picbri.JPG.html
In order to minimise disturbance to residents in the various flats I worked on this across on the towpath side, next to the junction with the Peak Forest Canal.

It had been a long day, made less comfortable by a vicious wind that whipped up the sawdust into a desert storm. As I inserted the resharpened saw into the groove for the final cut, an Anderton Marina hireboat emerged from the Peak Forest Canal and started to turn into the wind towards Manchester.

The lady of the boat, a solidly built cheerful scotswoman, walked by on the towpath with a big collie dog. We exchanged smiles and she carried on, then backtracked to ask about a safe mooring for the night. Her husband was now frantically backing up to avoid the boat hitting the newly repainted "Community Spirit" on the outside of the turn. The wind caught the flat cabin side like a sail and took the boat sideways.

I suggested that they back up and tie on the outside alongside the flats, the site of the prophet John Wroe's magnificent but long disapeared house. This was good advice from the point of view of having an undisturbed night, but would involve some manoevring that beginners would find challenging even on a still day.

As we spoke the boat reversed into the shallow water on the far side of the bridge and the rudder crunched into the stone copings. The bonny lady hurried over the bridge to help push it off and pass on my advice to her partner. He engaged forward gear and attempted to get the stern away from the bank, but an ominous underwater clattering indicated that the blade had picked up something that was battering the bottom of the counter as it rotated.

Its ability to manouvre further inhibited by rubbish on the prop, the boat moved slowly forwards, still in the grip of the wind. I could see that he wasn't going to get the boat to its destination without hitting one of our boats, but I wouldn't have minded if he simply scraped his bow along the side of "Southam". The sensible thing to do would have been to forget about engine power and use the shaft, which lay idle on the cabin roof, to get control of the errant fore end. I have always, however, found a great reluctance among trainee, and sometimes experienced, boaters to use the shaft.

The strategy employed to control the boat was a surprising one. As the bow headed into the arm where the boats awaiting restoration float in shallow water I expected to see a flush of sterngear from the still clattering prop. Instead the boat carried on until it impacted "Elton"s stern. She gave a lurch, then resigned herself to being used as a fulcrum as, still in forward gear, the man put his tiller over to lever the boat round. As soon as he backed up the wind caught the bow and he lost control again. He repeated the manouvre, but this time, the hireboat's bow having moved a few feet Eastwards, it was "Queen"s turn to suffer the indignity of a ramming.

I stood watching, open mouthed and dumbstruck. I knew that both boats were tough enough to withstand these blows, but I was amazed at the sheer disregard for other peoples craft.

The boat backed up again. The next boat in line for a blow from its bow was "Hazel", our most fragile boat. Somehow he managed to miss her, but, as anticipated, scraped his bow along the side of "Southam" instead. As his stern end approached the footbridge he threw a line up to his wife, who sensibly led the boat back to the overnight mooring that I had suggested.

I started the saw and quickly completed the last cut, by which time my anger had subsided a little. I shafted "Lilith" back across the basin to tie up abreast of "Southam", then went to dig out some leaflets from "Forget me Not"s cabin. I walked over to the moored hireboat and tapped on the roof. The woman emerged and reddened when she saw me. I sought to defuse her embarrasment with a smile, it wasn't her who had been steering, and handed her the leaflets. I said "Here's some information about the historic boats you just rammed". She was full of apologies, but she didn't call her husband out to face me. I diverted the conversation away from the incident as she was clearly uncomfortable, but it was her partner that I wanted to feel that discomfort. He had not once looked in my direction as he carried out his cavalier careering around the basin.

I went off to get some food. Early in the morning the boat left to work down the locks to Manchester. I wonder what sort of night the arrogant man had. It would be no surprise to me if the ghost of Jack Monk ( "Queen" was his first motor boat and remained his favourite) had visited him in the night and given him terrifying dreams of boatmans justice.