The thoughts, fantasies and random ramblings of Ashton Boatman Chris Leah, largely, but not exclusively, connected with his work for the Wooden Canal Boat Society, restoring historic wooden canal boats and putting them to work doing good deeds for the community and the planet.
For ages we've had such a poor turnout for weekday evening recycling trips that we've had to do them by road. I was pleased on Monday 4th to find that we had plenty of volunteers.
Aaron took the tiller and we had a pleasant journey down to Fairfield.
On Monday evenings we collect on Fairfield Road and Gorsey Fields. This time most of our crew were youngsters who were shy about knocking on doors, so they did the barrowing back. We had a reasonable haul to take to the charity shop.
On Tuesday afternoon we had a trip on "Hazel" with a really nice couple with an autistic child. The mother seemed interested in the canalside history. As we passed Oxford Mills
As we passed the old mills on the returned trip I noticed a strong smell of burning plastic. I checked in the engine room to make sure that nothing had fallen on to the exhaust manifold, but that was fine.
I went home for my tea. While I was there my friend Bev Ackford rang to tell me there was a fire in a laundry near the canal.
On my return to Portland Basin I found that there was an even better turn out for the Tuesday evening trip. Ominous black smoke was billowing from a big fire close to our intended route. I was unsure if it would be safe to run the trip but Debbie Leach told me that she had just cycled up the towpath to join us and there was no problem.
After a bit of boat shunting we set off, rather later than usual. As we approached the burning area we were enveloped in smoke but I could see that the fire was well back from the canal so we would be able to pass safely.
Fire persons were busy working between the fire and the canal, pumping water out to spray on to the burning buildings. There was some banter with the fire crews about them stealing our water.
Oxford Mill was an E shaped building. One wing had been largely demolished before it was listed. As we passed I saw that the fire had spread from the relatively modern buildings where it started into the upright and middle stroke of the E. The remaining wing remained untouched, though shrouded in smoke, so I hoped that this at least could be saved. I had noted previously that it was used for storing stuff in cardboard boxes.
At Brewery bridge tape had just been put up to close the towpath. A smart young firefighter was just climbing the steps on to the bridge. Debbie, who never misses the opportunity for a bit of banter, asked him if he was touting for business. I chipped in by offering him a lift to Canal St (Canal St is the heart of Manchesters gay village). He took it in the spirit intended.
We had another good collection in the Ashton Hill Road area of Droylsden. By the time we were ready to return it was nearly dark, so I turned on the headlight. At Brewery Bridge, at the South end of Pottinger St, we got a good view of the fire. The brigade's efforts had seemingly been in vain. The whole area was now blazing well, particularly the top of the E, presumably turbocharged by whatever was in all those boxes. The gable end of this wing was close to the canal and it was clear that parts of the building had already collapsed. If the gable were to fall outward as we passed we would be toast.
We backed up into the bridgehole and I managed to get a pin into the tarmacced towpath (grrrr) to tie to.
I left the boat guarded by Aaron and walked rather a long way round to Portland Basin to collect the van. Kids had removed the tape on the towpath and were whizzing up and down on bikes despite the danger. I chose not to go that way.
The streets had a carnival atmosphere, like a huge free bonfire party for the whole community. As I walked I heard a rumble as anothe bit of historic mill tumbled.
Returning with the van I had to take an even longer route as the main Stockport Road was closed. Luckily I know the back streets well. We unloaded the goods from the boat into the van. I parked it up for the night then, after taking a few photos,
I retired to "Forget me Not"s cabin for the night.
In the morning I woke at about 5 AM and made coffee. As i lay in bed enjoying my first brew of the day I could hear intermittent bursts of police radio. I hoped they wouldn't try to stop me returning the boat to her home, as I clearly couldn't leave her there. I felt the boat move as though someone had stepped aboard, then heard a rat tat tat on the cabinside. I stuck me head out and saw a man and a boat. He had made an early start to go to Manchester but "Forget me Not" was blocking the bridgehole. I explained that I wasn't dressed yet. He offered to move the boat. I agreed and, as I dressed, I could feel the hull grinding against the copings as he pulled her backwards.
He tied the boat to the railings of the high level footpath that leads to Guide Bridge Station, at just the right height to decapitate passing cyclists. Luckily there were none and I was soon untied and on my way, kicking up lots of froth, presumably from chemicals washed into the waterway.
I had to walk back from Portland Basin to collect the van. On my way I took some pictures of the smouldering remains being damped down.
There's been so much happening I've not had time to take many pictures or post anything. Here's a few anyway, starting with theLymm Historic Transport Festival, which, as usual, was wonderful.
The view from "Hazel" with my old boat "Parbella" over on the left.
A good turnout of traction engines etc again.
Early morning, the engines wait for their fires to be lit.
I particularly liked this little steam lorry.
Joseph Garside engine, used for hauling sand at Leighton Buzzard. I used to work on the Leighton Buzzard Narrow Gauge railway, originally constructed for the same purpose.
Our display panel with "Parbella" in the background.
I didn't take any pictures on the very hot trip back to Ashton or the Sunday recycling trip when we were joined by our great great nephew Marcus Kirby. However, Marcus drew a picture of "Hazel" with me in the hat perched on top celebrating the participation of the England football team in the World Cup.
The next time I got my camera out was on the Tuesday night recycling trip. I left the boating to Aaron Booth. We were also joined by Fliss Johnson, Lorrainne Howlett, Norman Lee and Geraldine Buckley. It was a lovely sunny evening for a trip in good friendly company.
Fliss, Lorrainne (with Missy) and Geraldine (with Snitch).
Norman perched at the bow, looking for wildlife to photograph. Note the parched grass in the background.
There was an anxious moment whenn I thought Aaron was going to put the stem through the window of the moored boat whilst winding at Fairfield. All was well though, missed by inches!
I took a lot of photos of a short trip we did a fortnight ago. I'd decided to let our crew run it themselves and just hover about taking photographs. I did put the photos on here, then my internet went down (Windows 10) and I couldn't save it. So, here they are again.
"Southam" and "Lilith" tied out of the way for the day.
"Forget me Not" and "Hazel" on the wharf to load our guests.
The pair winding.
The butty steerer struggled a bit to get through the gap.
"Still Waters" backed out to begin a trip through the Asda tunnel as our pair did their best to get round the bend into Walk Bridge. Meanwhile the hireboat crew attempt to drag their boat into the bank at the visitor moorings. These moorings used to be deep but after the contractors repaired the bank boats can no longer get in close. Presumably they dropped their surplus stone etc in the water.
After a shaky start the boats were on their way.
That was when my camera batteries ran out.
Our guests on "Hazel" that weekend were a couple who were visiting Ashton so that one of them could do a yoga teaching assessment. They said they'd like to be somewhere nice and peaceful so I took the boat up to Dukinfield drawbridge, away from the sometimes raucus atmosphere on hot days at the basin. Here's some pictures.
The following weekend was the recycling trip. I didn't take any pictures on the Sunday or Monday trips, but on Tuesday evening I let Aaron take charge. He did very well.
Winding at Ashton.
The flats are on the site of the old Junction Mill. Now only the chimney survives.
Fliss and Steve chatting on "Forget me Not"s deck.
Aaron in charge.
Winding at Fairfield Junction.
2008 flats clearly modelled on 1970s Soviet architecture. These also are on the site of a mill.
"Hazel" had 2 airbnb bookings in Manchester on consecutive weekends, both with groups of Germans. We took her down the locks on Thursday with a guest on board, then got her tidied up for our guests on Friday. I stayed to look after things and we had a problem with the macerator toilet. It turned out a turnbutton off one of the cupboards had gone down it and caused a very unpleasant internal blockage. We also had engine problems, largely my fault as I made a cock up of a minor repair which necessitated a more major repair ( Volunteer chief engineer needed, any offers?)
On Tuesday, loaded with well being guests, we moved again, down the Rochdale 9 and onward to Sale Cruising Club moorings in proper Perter Kay rain. The helpful people at Sale filled us up with water and electricity. We planned to move on Wednesday morning but another engine problem blew up (as it were). This necessitated two return cycle trips to Stockport to get parts repaired. Our guests seemed to enjoy their sojourn in Sale. On Thursday morning we went on as far as the next winding hole, winded, then headed back into Manchester, getting pumped out at the very friendly Stretford Marina.
We tied below the locks at Castlefield, then Aaron, Shaun and Phil helped with the ascent of the 9. We tied among the steampunk building sites at Picadilly basin.
The trip started a bit late because we found some Kittens aboard "Lilith" and had to move them. Good turnout and a lot to collect. Tameside Radio came along and did some interviews. Here's some pictures.
On Monday 23rd October we
started our canal clean ups. We were expecting two groups to join us
and I was a bit concerned that there would be more people than I
could find jobs and equipment for. It was drizzling. Phil Smith from
CRT arrived with lots of litter pickers, grappling irons etc. Luke
arrived and we decided to hang on to wait for others. No-one showed
up, so me and Luke set off for lock 1W. We hauled out a few shopping
trolleys then went up the lock.
Aaron and Kim joined us and we looked
for the obstruction in Whitelands tunnel. I think it's mostly stone,
which we're unable to get out, but Aaron and Kim pulled out a huge
lorry tyre which couldn't have been helping things.
(This series of photos by Luke Clarke)
At lock 2 we used
the boat to access an area covered in rubbish that had been annoying
me for ages and cleaned it up. Kim had to leave above lock 3 and time
was pressing so we moved on to Stayley Wharf.
It had been a bit
disappointing but we had a respectable haul. I cycled down to
Portland Basin to get the van and, as dusk fell, me and Aaron loaded
the van with scrap iron, piled cut foliage in a neat heap and piled
non recyclables on the bank.
Being a Monday I was fasting, so I
enjoyed a bit of solitude aboard “Forget me Not”, reading a book.
I went to sleep early but was up again well before dawn. I drove to
the boatyard to pick up batteries and more scrap, then to Portland
Basin to pick up even more scrap and change batteries on various
bilge pumps. From here I went to Mullaneys scrapyard up near
Hartshead Pike, unloaded the scrap, then back to Portland Basin where
the van was to be collected for shop deliveries. I cycled up the
towpath to get back to the boat about 9.30 in time for Phil to pick
up the rubbish.
Tuesdays team were mostly volunteers
organised by Peter Hawley, the Stalybridge Town centre Manager. About
half a dozen arrived. I suggested backing up to clear the narrows
near the aqueduct as this is a favourite place for getting stuck if
the level is down a bit. Trainee skipper Alan took the controls as I
steered the reversing boat with a shaft from the bow. We got plenty
of road signs, bikes and trolleys out of the narrows. Some of the
trolleys were so embedded in mud that we had to drag the grappling
irons with the boat to get them out. One raised concerns that the
iron might be caught on a plug to drain the canal, but it was only a
Some of the volunteers preferred litter
picking, and there was plenty to find. They dragged bulk bags along
the towpath to contain it all. Above lock 4 Phil met us with the CRT
pickup to take away the rubbish. As I pulled away with the boat I
noticed that the grappling iron that I was towing was causing much
disturbance and globs of oil. I'd hooked on to a motor scooter which,
with much effort, we dragged on to the bank, then pushed to above
lock 5 to load it. I informed the police of our find.
The mess on the counter after landing muddy stuff with the grappling iron.
The narrows below Armentierres Square
is a happy hunting ground for shopping trolleys. “Forget me Not”
stuck on one, but we soon had it out.
With the deck well loaded with soggy
smelly scrap again everyone left at lock 6 and I travelled on alone
then winded and backed up to the boatyard. This wasn't
easy as a wind had sprung up and there was stuff on the blade. A
passer by helped me remove some clothing from the propeller and I
told him about recycling trips which he says he'll join us on. With
the boat tied at Knowl St I was off home for the night.
Wednesday was a sorting out and
repositioning day. Tony and Aaron arrived to help unload the boat,
filling the boatyard with dripping smelly bikes and trolleys. We
loaded on to the boat foliage from the boatyard trimming of the
previous week then set off back down the locks, collecting the brash
that we'd left at Staley Wharf. At the railway bridge behind Asda
there was a stack of trolleys that someone had previously fished out,
rusting in the undergrowth, so we stopped and loaded these up, then
ferried them to the inaccessible space under Cavendish St Bridge,
where they were exchanged for more foliage which someone had left
there and some bags of rubbish.
At Portland Basin we turned left into
the Peak Forest canal and unloaded the brushwood at the intended
site for the Samhain fire, a patch of himalayan balsam next to the Great Central railway bridge.
We haven't used the winding hole at Jet
Amber Fields for a few years, since a huge raft of american pennywort
prevented us from winding. However, this seems to have subsided, so
we decided to try it, rather than carry on to Hyde to wind. “Forget
me Not” just managed to get round, though I doubt if we would
succeed with “Hazel” as she is deeper at the bow.
We tied the boat at Portland Basin to
await the next days adventure.
Thursday was the day for dibbling for
rubbish in the Peak Forest canal. As well as the usual suspects we
had Albert and Adam from the shop and a couple of new volunteers who
had seen it advertised. We started right at the exit from the basin,
looking for whatever the boat had bounced over there the previous
day. We found nothing, it must have moved. Slowly we worked our way
through Dukinfield to the lift bridge. Our new volunteers tended to
hang back, constantly and mostly fruitlessly casting their grappling
irons in the same spot as the boat left them behind.
I managed to gather everyone together
at the lift bridge, a known trouble spot, and do some intensive
grappling. The results were disappointing, though we did pull out
some tyres. I found a clue to the problem here when I pulled out a
brick with the keb. I think someone has tipped a load of rubble in
here, which will need one of those rare and fabulous beasts, a
dredger, to remove it.
I was eager to get to more problem
areas further up the canal. The Great Central railway bridge was the
next one. Some homeless people were camped on the old pit loading
wharf there. It had been adopted as park land but appears to have
been abandoned by the council as a result of funding cuts.
“Forget me Not” frequently touches
the bottom along here but my hunch was that the problem was mostly
railway ballast, carelessly cast into the canal by the railway
authorities. This turned out to be the case, though we found quite a
lot more debris in the water which we were able to remove. This
included quite a lot of scaffolding, I suspect lost by contractors
painting the bridge girders, and several more tyres.
I had an idea about the source of the
tyres. Some time ago I had noticed a load of tyres dumped near
Dunkirk bridge. These had now disappeared. My hunch was that they had
found their way into the canal, which would explain the difficulty
sometimes experienced in traversing this narrow bridgehole.
Tempus was busily fugiting so we
hurried on to the afformentioned Dunkirk bridge, which “Forget me
Not” frequently struggles to get through. Here, as anticipated, we
pulled out lots of discarded tyres as well as the usual bikes,
trolleys and what looked like the remnants of a pottery kiln.
A grappling iron got hooked on
something that all the huffing and puffing of volunteers couldn't
shift. I followed my usual procedure of attaching the line to the
dollies and towing it out, but this time the line parted, so, we were
one grappling iron down.
At the M67 motorway bridge there was a
line of items that someone had clearly pulled out before us leaning
against the concrete (there's a You Tube video of someone
fishing them out with a powerful magnet) They included a large
number of wheelclamps! We went through the bridge and winded. I would
have liked to have backed up to Manchester Road bridge, another
trouble spot, but time was pressing and volunteers were ebbing away.
Returning through the motorway bridge we picked up the wheelclamps
etc and enjoyed the trip back to Ashton in the fading light.
Friday was spent clearing away the
spoils of the week and preparing “Hazel” for some overnight
Early on Saturday morning I started
getting “Forget me Not” ready for the trip. Our guests were a
family from the North East, though coming originally from Chelmsford
and all round the world. One of them was celebrating a milestone
birthday and his wife had booked the stay on the boat and a trip to
Roaches lock and back as a surprise.
Some were dubious about our ability to
get to Roaches in a day. Though it's only about 5 miles and 14 locks
it's on the difficult and unreliable Huddersfield Narrow Canal. As
well as the usual suspects, myself, Tony and Aaron, Luke joined us
again and I had recruited tree surgeon Joe and leaflet deliverer
We started at 9 and were soon starting
to work up the locks towards Stalybridge. The weather was dull and
drizzling. Things went smoothly at first, though I was a little
concerned that, though the water levels were OK, there was no water
running over the weirs. This made me think that there may be trouble
Trouble presented itself in the pound
above lock 8, Grove Road. The pound was well down. This was a
surprise as several substantial streams feed this pound. I've no idea
where the water was going but it wasn't feeding down the canal.
I walked on to set the next lock, but,
before I reached it, I got a call from Tony to say that the boats
were stemmed in mid channel.
The affected pound is long by
Huddersfield canal standards. The next one up is short. I virtually
emptied it supplying enough water to bring the boats up to the lock.
This meant I had to run down water from the pound above to get
through this pound, thus lowering the next pound up. Going uphill, if
you get a low pound you are constantly robbing Peter to pay Paul in
Between 11 and 12, through Scout
tunnel, the pound is slightly longer and I hoped to get through
without robbing any water from further up. Sludging carefully along
the middle it looked like we would succeed, until the boats firmly
stuck just a few yards from lock 12. This meant stealing more water
to get into the lock.
The next pound up runs through Mossley
and was the longest that we would pass through. Despite this, getting
the boats those last few yards took enough water to drop it a few
inches below weir level.
Still, things looked good and we made
steady progress until the second bridgehole, where “Forget me Not”
got firmly stuck. It was only after much hard work that we got her
By the time we got into lock 14,
Woodbank lock, it was dark. Some of our crew were getting anxious
about getting home and our guests were expressing anxiety about their
6.30 booking at the Roaches Lock pub. There was only a short distance
of winding canal to traverse and Tony made a good job of steering the
pair through the pitch black.
As we reached the wide below Roaches we
breasted up and, as a moored fibreglass cruiser loomed up ahead of
us, tied rather clumsily just short of it. Our guests hurried up the
bepuddled towpath to the pub whilst our crew trudged off down the
road towards Mossley station, where the trains turned out to be
buses, so they got a bus instead.
With the boats secured I went out in
search of food, which I found in an Indian takeaway. I sat on the
balance beam of lock 16 in the continuing rain, eating my meal and
listening to the water running over the weir.
That night, the clocks changed. I used
the extra hour to tidy up and organise firewood. I wondered if the
crew would arrive on time. It was important to get moving early to
avoid running on into the night. I walked down to the lock and got it
ready so that, if necessary, I could start the boats moving with just
a little help from our guests.
Today the usual suspects were to be
augmented by Keith and Elsa Williamson, who gave some people lifts
from Ashton. I'd just got the engine started when they began to
arrive. A towpath walker warned of a low pound in Mossley.
Soon we were winded and on our way,
working smoothly through Woodbank lock. A short pound brought us to
lock 13, where we saw with dismay that the walker had not been
exaggerating. The longest pound of our trip, through the centre of
Mossley, was nearly empty.
We ran the motor down the lock and she
sat, with her counter well out of the water, on rubbish in the
bottom. We drew the top paddles then rushed to jump aboard at the
tail of the lock as the boat, carried by the rush of water, shot out
like an express train, only to stem up and sit awkwardly across the
I walked to the next lock to see if I
could find the reason for the problem. Elsa was ahead of me. We found
that a top paddle was up and the bottom gates were leaking badly. I
was worried that it could be our fault, did we leave a paddle up?
Thinking back to the previous day I recalled that, at that particular
lock, I had repeatedly asked one of our crew to shut the paddle until
he eventually did, so clearly the problem wasn't our fault. This is why I try to drum into new crew members to
shut the paddles as soon as the gates are open, otherwise its so easy
Later we heard that , the previous
night, a dog walker had chased off some kids who were messing with
the lock machinery. On this particular paddle the anti vandal lock
Our crew began running water down, but
the short pound above the lock would soon be depleted so I walked up
to Woodbank lock to steal some water from the longer pound up to
Roaches. Eventually, Tony rang me to say that “Forget me Not” was
afloat again. I shut the paddles and, after working the butty down,
the pair set off, carefully, slowly, sludging along the muddy middle
of the canal. Aaron stayed at lock 13, alternately filling and
emptying the lock to send waves of water along the canal to lift the
boats over any obstructions.The boats stuck solid in the same
bridgehole that we had had problems with on the way up.
I ran down more water from Woodbank to
help the now nearly empty short pound then, when I dare take no more,
returned to the stuck boats. Elsa, who had stayed at lock 12 asked if
she could bring an uphill boat up the lock, then we could use the
same water to take our boat down. I asked her to hold the boat below
the lock. Taking a lockfull off the pound would delay getting our
boats unstuck, we wouldn't be able to pass each other and the leaky
gates would soon empty the full lock anyway.
Eventually, with the pound nearly full
and the ballast tanks emptied, we got moving again. Elsa rang again.
The Eastbound boater was getting impatient. I explained that we were
nearly there, as we stemmed up again. This time it just needed a bit
of work with the shaft to get the boats moving . We reached the
lock, worked the motor through, the impatient boat came up then the
butty followed down and we carried on through Scout tunnel.
We were now on a waterway well supplied
with water. Things went smoothly for a while but it was already well
into the afternoon. At lock 7, near the boatyard in Stalybridge, some
of our guests had to leave to catch a train. They thanked us
profusely for the trip and said they would be back.
The procedure for working the pair down
a narrow lock is as follows:- First the motor is worked down while
the butty lies against the top gate. The lock is then refilled and
the motor backs up, tiller removed, to sit with her fenders against
the bottom gates, ticking over in reverse gear. It's very important
that the boat is in contact with the bottom gates. When the bottom
paddles are drawn to bring the butty down a powerful eddy holds the
motor in place. The steerer can do nothing so they can go into the
cabin and attend to the range. If the motor is not against the gates
it will be brought back and crash into them with tremendous force.
When the lock is empty the reversing boat simply pushes the gates
open, the steerer picks up the towline and attaches it to the dollies
and the pair steam on along the next pound.
As we approached lock 7 I had been
preparing 6 bacon and egg butties for the crew. 6 rounds of bread
were buttered on the table and the fillings were cooking on the
range. I asked the motor steerer to back up to the gates and finish
making the butties (sandwiches). We worked the butty (boat) down, but
when I went to see about distributing the butties (sandwiches) I was
told we had a problem. The swans neck was pointing in completely the
wrong direction. The rudder had got turned far beyond its normal arc
of operation and was now jammed under the counter, where it had hit
the propeller and stalled the engine.
Clearly the boat had not been against
the gates when the paddles were drawn and the rudder had caught on
something as the power of the eddying water hammered the boat
backwards. Our attempts to untangle the ironwork only resulted in
bending the tiller. As I tied up the motor to allow the butty through
the butties (sandwiches) were distributed. I was rather miffed not to
There was nothing for it but to bowhaul
the butty for the rest of the trip and leave the disabled motor where
she was. Me and Aaron took turns at bowhauling, Tony was suffering
from a bruised leg as a result of being hit by a flying pallett
during the cleanup, so he steered. Luke lockwheeled without a
The remaining locks were dealt with
quickly and efficiently in the gathering dark. At the Asda tunnel
some of us lay on the roof and stretched our legs up to walk upside
down along the smooth concrete, then we shafted the boat along the
towpathless stretch past Cavendish Mill to tie up at Portland Basin
at about 6 PM.
I had been a little concerned that our
guests may have been disappointed with their experience. They had
spent most of the trip inside the cabin and didn't seem to be taking
much interest in the boating activity. As they left, however, it was
quite clear that “Hazel” had worked her magic on them. They told
us they had really enjoyed the trip. They had rather stressful jobs
and had appreciated the relaxation afforded by their time on the
Once everyone had left I headed back up
to Stalybridge. There had been some young scallywags hanging around
the town centre as we passed through so I wanted to make sure that
“Forget me Not” was safe. After spending a pleasant night in the
back cabin I started shafting the boat down the locks. Near the Tame
aqueduct she stemmed up in mid channel. A little work with the keb
brought out a tyre, one that we missed during the cleanup. At the
Clarence St moorings the boat stemmed up again, this time on a
submerged tree trunk. It took the efforts of myself and several of
the residents to dislodge the boat then recover the offending log.
One of the moorers caught me up at lock 3 offering to help, but I
turned him down, partly because you can't really have 2 people
shafting and partly because I was just enjoying doing it on my own.
As I neared my destination I got a
'phone call from Janet, our neighbour at Knowl St. She thought that
someone had climbed into the boatyard. As soon as I got the boat
tied abreast of “Lilith” I cycled post haste to Stalybridge.
There had indeed been an intruder as I could see that things had been
disturbed, but I couldn't identify anything as missing. I collected
the van and drove home for a good rest.
Tuesday night should have been the
night of the Samhain fire, but I was too busy to organise it so the
brushwood will have to wait until the Winter Solstice before it is
I had arranged to meet a police officer
on Friday morning to hand over the motor scooter. When she arrived at
the boatyard I led her to the place where we had unloaded it. There
was nothing there! Perhaps this was the target of our Monday
On Friday evening I shafted “Forget
me Not” to Ashton Packet Boats boatyard in Guide Bridge. On
Saturday morning they pulled her out on the slip and we found that
the damage was nothing that a few good blows with a sledgehammer
wouldn't put right. With the rudder untangled “Forget me Not” was
ready for action again, just in time for the November recycling
trips, which were excellent.
September 30th was the 10th birthday of Tameside Radio and they chose to celebrate it by having a ride on our boats. On Friday 29th we got the boats ready and took "Forget me Not", "Hazel" and "Lilith" down to Fairfield. Some people from the radio station joined us in the morning and we set off. This went a bit embarrassingly. I put "Forget me Not" into gear and turned the speedwheel, but it stayed on tickover. A nut had dropped off the linkage and disappeared into the bilge. I rigged up a length of string to control the engine. The boats were now all over the place but I tried to start off again. Immediately she picked up something big on the blade. After a lot of struggling I got it off, it was a big thick onesy. We got going at last with the 3 boats in a train. "Forget me Not" pulled well. I connected the bit of string to the cabin slide so if you pull the slide back t speeded up and push it forward to slow down. It worked well.
I was aware that arriving at Portland Basin with 3 boats would be tricky and there would be a lot of eyes on us. It turned out to be busier than I anticipated as it was also the official launch of "Community Spirit 2" so there were lots of civic dignitaries about. As we came into the basin I signalled to Tom, steering "Hazel" to throw off "Lilith"s towline. Aaron shafted "Lilith" across the basin to breast up to "Southam" while we breasted "Forget me Not" and "Hazel" and tied on the towpath side. As soon as we were stopped "Community Spirit 2" came through, loaded with dignitaries.
Terry the Lion appeared to present us with a cheque for Marple and Romiley Lions Club's annual sponsorship. along with a plaque celebrating their long term support. We were interviewed on radio, photographed, then spent a bit of time meeting different people and showing them round the boat, before setting off with just "Hazel" in tow to work up the 3 locks to Stayley Wharf.
It's rare to work up these locks with adequate water. This time all the weirs were running hard and we didn't even stem up in Whitelands Tunnel. At Stayley Wharf we winded the pair and tied up. Our guests left and we stopped for a brew before setting off back down to Portland Basin. The trip went very smoothly with everyone working co-operatively with little need for advice.
We had had some problems getting "Lilith" out of the arm ready for this trip. The water level had dropped, leaving her sitting on something solid. I didn't want to put her back in the arm so we dropped "Hazel" alongside "Lilith" and I put "Forget me Not in the arm alongside "Still Waters", the trip boat.
Sunday 1st October was recycling day. I was concerned that we might not get enough people as the weather forecast was bad. In fact the weather was mostly OK and we had a good team, including several new people. Everything went smoothly and we got quite a good haul. A couple of good days.
I didn't take many photos but these are they.
The 3 boats waiting at Portland Basin to set of for Droylsden.