Ashton Boatman

Emuna alerted me to the fact that a traditional Pace Egging play was to be performed at Heptonstall on Good Friday. "Let's go" I said, so we set out over the Pennines, passports at the ready, into Yorkshire. For those who don't know about pace egging, let me explain that it's a form of messing about in silly costumes that goes back into the sands of time.

https://www.timetravel-britain.com/articles/history/pace-egging.shtml

On our way we stopped at Todmorden, another lovely stone town, for coffee and cake. This turned out to be a mistake, though the coffee and cake were nice.

        We're taking a break on work on Southam to get Hazel ready for the summer. There's a motorway bridge that makes excellent shelter for working on cabins, painting etc at Guide Bridge. We moved Hazel there so that we could work on the cabin.

Unfortunately, a day or two beforehand the pump on the central heating failed. I ordered two replacements, one as spare so that I could do a quick change if another failed. I get them from a company called Solar Project in Lancashire. https://solarproject.co.uk/  . I used to use Chinese made pumps which were about half the price, but noisy and used twice the amount of electricity. I was a bit disappointed that this one had only lasted two years though.

The pumps arrived and I fitted one, but struggled with leaks. Nessie fixed the leaks the following day. The downside of being under the bridge is that we need boatsitters every night to make sure nobody messes with the boat or our tools etc. Helen Kanes stayed for a couple of nights which was very helpful.

Part of the reason for staying under the bridge is the anticipated visit of Kira to repaint the name on Hazel's  stern. She arrived on 25th March and immediately set to work. Like many of our volunteers, Kira is camera shy, so only her reverse side appears in the photos!

Life was getting complicated. We're short staffed at the shop after Mike left (he got a job driving executives around in posh cars (he says), but it always seems to be at night, Mona Lisa springs to mind). Anyway, the upshot is that I have to run the shop one day a week and do deliveries in the van another day.

Joe Hodgson is a tree surgeon from Cumbria. He helped us to get some of the oak for rejuvenating Hazel . Since then he's been trying to get established on the cut. After several false starts he bought the 1938 built Nurser motor Benevolence from Oxford. After a journey of several months, including sinking once and getting held up by stoppages, he finally arrived.

Benevolence seems to be pretty good but has an iffy plank on the waterline (hence the sinking). She had lots of work done on her in the 1980s by Martin Cox. If I remember rightly, Martin was ousted from the job by others who offered to do it cheaper. Being a generous spirited person, however, he told me they'd done a good job.

Joe had to return to Cumbria, but he left me the code to the lock and permission to use the boat for towing.

Battery technology has moved on and the replacements are Lithium Iron Phosphate batteries (LiFePo). These have the advantages of lithium but without the risk of thermal runaway (which is a posh name for fire). We have to extract the old batteries, which will probably have further use on Southam, then insert the new ones and rebuild the woodwork around them, making it all rather more ergonomic (and properly sealed). Most of the wood used will be reclaimed mahogany rather than T&G. At present, changing a fuse or checking the state of charge is very awkward, so that needs to change,

One problem with being under the bridge is that if we need to work on the other side of the boat we have to take her to the winding hole, wind, then bring her back. One day, when I was working at the Knowl St boatyard, I asked Nessie and Aaron to do this. As Aaron shafted the boat under Hanover St bridge on the return trip, Nessie noticed that somebody was throwing our stuff into the canal. He made a death defying leap to the bank and ran round to confront the culprit, a man in his forties.

Nessie is no stranger to physical confrontation. He met the man at the top of the steep wooded slope that leads down to the canal side. He er, persuaded, the fellow to return to the scene of the crime and help to bring back our power tools and firewood from the bramble bushes where he'd stashed them. The man claimed that two others had run off with our generator (the good solid old fashioned one).

Over the decades Nessie has learned to moderate his anger, and so the man lived to steal another day. It was tempting to tie him up and throw him in the brambles,  but, aware that false imprisonment is a serious offence, he was let go. It was then that Nessie spotted some yellow metal lurking in the water and managed to fish out the generator.

I stayed on the boat that night but, the following night, the boatsitter, hearing of the aforementioned incident, decided not to stay "in case he came back". I had to go there at short notice.

On Wednesday April 2nd I spent most of the day meeting potential new volunteers before returning to Hazel to boatsit. I cooked myself a nice meal then just fell asleep, exhausted. April 2nd 2025 would also have been the 40th birthday of my son Dylan. I had intended to spend a little time sitting in the woods remembering his short life, but it didn't happen.

Now, all the boats are back at Portland Basin. I have so many jobs on the go that I don't know whether I'm coming or going. I think some people imagine that when they can't see me I'm at home with my feet up. Chance would be a fine thing!

When you live and work on and around the water you always have an awareness of rats. Long long ago when I was living on Forget me Not on the bank at Guide Bridge I had a long term battle with the rodents. I used poison to begin with. A terrible smell developed in my cabin, which I eventually traced to the decomposing remains of a poisoned rat that had crawled under my bed to take its final breaths. When I saw a rat dying from poison I resolved never to use it again. I don't like rats, but I've no wish to see them suffer like that. I decided that using traditional traps that rapidly smack them over the head was preferable, I despatched many in this way, but each one left the raiding rights to my cabin to a relative in its will.

When I first became romantically involved with Emuna I was living in the monstrosity of a back cabin built by a previous owner. For insulation I had lined it with old carpet. The first time she stayed over, in the middle of the night, I heard a rat scrabbling about between the carpet and the roof and started punching the carpet to get rid of it. After that, if I wanted to spend time with her, I had to cycle over to her flat in Royton!

At Portland Basin we've never really had much of a rodent problem. For many years Captain Kit Crewbucket, our resident cat, saw to that. We sometimes have had a problem with mink. Tackling one of these once resulted in Kit having an expensive trip to the vets. Since the Captain moved to Emuna's home for aged cats, and later on to pussycat heaven, we did have some of the vermin living in a brick shed on the wharf. They didn't stray on to the boats and were dealt with by the council.

Wherever I go I like to grow some of my own food. In recent years I've been growing potatoes in upturned road cones at the boatyard. To facilitate this I take all our kitchen waste there for composting. For many years the boatyard has been the happy hunting ground of many local felines. In fact, whenever I entered the yard they stared indignantly at me as if I were trespassing. Just lately they seem to have disappeared. I know some of their elderly "owners" (nobody owns a cat) have died. Possibly surviving cats have been rehomed.

This has caused a problem. My compost bins have turned into rodent feeding stations. I bought some rat traps, but these rats seem to be wise to these. I think they've learned to use a stick to spring the trap before enjoying the bait. I was at a loss to know what to do, but, suddenly, all evidence of rodent activity ceased. Today I discovered why. Basking in the sun on the roof of the woodstore was a fine big tomcat. I've no idea where he lives, but, I'm going to encourage him to spend time in the boatyard.

Apparently this week is Long Covid Week. The idea is to raise awareness but it looks like the activists are too knackered to do anything.

The only reason I know about it is that someone rang Any Answers on Radio 4 to raise concerns about how the government's targeting of the post pandemic long term sick would affect Long Covid sufferers. The big problem is, when you're knackered all the time and find it hard to get active, it's all too easy to be written off as a lazy bastard. This is particularly galling when you're actually feeling really frustrated by your inability to get anything done, I feel like I'm a lazy bastard if I don't get out every day and do a bit on the boats. Luckily I'm past the age when I'm expected to earn my keep. As far as I know, the government has no plans to cut my pension, but I feel like I'm being lazy, and letting people down, if I don't do my bit.

I don't even know for certain if I have Long Covid, or even if I had Covid. My conspiracy minded friends say I have vaccine damage, but then, some of them don't even believe that viruses exist (well, I've never seen one!)

Starting in 2018 I had to have 2 years hormone therapy to combat prostate cancer. This leached the testosterone out of my body. making me feel a lot weaker and short of stamina than previously. Prior to that I used to enjoy bowhauling a butty through a flight of locks when people half my age struggled to haul a single pound.

Just as the pandemic was starting in early 2020 both me and Emuna had something. We don't know it was Covid because there was no testing, but it probably was. It actually wasn't too bad. I had my final hormone injection in the spring of 2020 and through the summer I was looking forward to getting my energy back. It didn't come.

While I've never been super athletic, running marathons etc, I used to be pretty fit. I walked tremendous distances exploring the hills. I would cycle 100+ miles in a day. Now, the mile from Portland Basin to our house had become a daunting walk and, while I still cycled, my range was down to a few miles and I struggled with the smallest hills

Other symptoms persisted, aches and pains, getting out of breath, tinnitus, brain fog to the extent that some people started saying I had dementia. It comes and goes. Sometimes I think it has gone away, only for it to come back and hit me again. Sometimes people suggest it's my age. Now, fair enough, I can't expect to be able to do things I did when I was 25, but I don't think this is to do with age particularly. There are too many odd symptoms.

Today has been a really difficult day. It actually started with a really nice dream in which I had a load of problems but people rallied round to help, unasked. I hope that was predictive as I'm feeling in need of help right now. I struggled to get out of bed and was aching all over. I took most of the morning to have my breakfast and send a few messages on Facebook. About 11 I went to the boatyard and cut a bit of firewood, but I couldn't seem to get much useful done. As I hadn't made myself any butties I decided to go home for my dinner. Emuna was busy cooking and so restricting access to the kitchen. I lay down to read the excellent book she gave me for my birthday (Tales from the Tillerman by Steve Haywood). I was actually too tired to read much. I fell asleep for several hours.

It's now ten past six and I'm awake again, but feeling I've wasted a day. I think I'll carry on with that book, if I can remember where I've put it!

Having been on Earth for 72 years I decided to have 2 days off for my birthday. On Sunday I opted to go for a ride on the Keighley & Worth Valley Railway over in Yorkshire. Unfortunately Emuna was having a relapse from her ME so couldn't have a full day out. I could have gone on my own, but I enjoy it more if I'm with someone likeable, so I invited Helen Kanes who loves steam trains and is good company.

We caught a 409 bus from Ashton to Rochdale, then got a train to Hebden Bridge. I like Hebden Bridge. It's one of those places where strangers smile and start pleasant conversations with you. There was a 40 minute wait for the 'bus so we explored the path by the river, busy with walkers, runners and cyclists.

The "Brontebus" from Hebden Bridge to Keighley was waiting when we got back. The driver was a young woman who hardly looked like she was out of school yet. That's my age talking. She's probably someone's granny! She was certainly skilled at 'bus driving. The steep road up to the delightfully named Peckets Well was made for pack horses rather than 'buses, Nowadays it is lined with parked cars and vans. There's scarcely room for a 'bus to pass. At one point some cars had to reverse quite a distance to let us through.

Over the moors the 'bus rattled and banged over the rough road before descending into Oxenhope. Here there was a narrow 90 degree bend with inches to spare for the 'bus. We debussed on Station Road and walked down the station approach. The ticket office was small and dark with a coal fire burning in an open grate.

The diesel train had not long departed and there would be a bit of a wait for the steamer. We had a look in the museum. which is really a store for stock that is out of service. Much of it was taken up with the Lancashire & Yorkshire Railway coaches that form the vintage train set for the summer season. Of locomotives there were an 8F, a 'jinty', an LMS 4F, a standard 4MT tank and a Lanky 'pug'. That sentence will mean nothing to the uninitiated!

A tannoy announcement brought us scuttling back to the platform just in time to see the steam train arrive.

The locomotive was that stalwart of the line, number 41241. I remember her as station pilot at Leamington Spa, shunting parcels vans etc, in the mid 1960s.

I discussed the coal situation with one of the engine crew. I had chosen not to visit the closer East Lancashire Railway as they are having their steam trains pushed by diesels to conserve coal stocks. There are now no coal mines in Britain. 41241 was burning a mix of coal from Kazakhstan and ecocoal. The ecocoal, which is briquettes made from a mixture of anthracite dust and crushed olive stones, doesn't burn too well on its own. The Kazak coal is of variable quality and sometimes clinkers up badly. Clinker seals up the grate and stops the fire getting enough air to burn well.

After a while the engine moved to the end of the loop to run round its train, watched by an embracing couple.

We climbed aboard a BR Mk1 open second and remarked on the surprise of sinking into the old sprung seats, very different from modern plastic foam. Soon we were trundling down the valley to Haworth. My stomach was telling me it was feeding time and, though we'd both brought butties, it seemed sensible to leave them for later as it looked like we'd be quite late back. Opposite the station here there's a nice little cafe, so we got off the train and walked over there to enjoy some lunch.

We waited on the platform to see the steam service pause on its way up the line to Oxenhope, then waited some more for it to return, Keighley bound, The day was dull, the wind cold. I explained to Helen that the whole purpose of Yorkshire was to keep the wind of Lancashire. I'm not sure if she believed me.

Oakworth is the station where they filmed The Railway Children starring a young Jenny Agutter. There's a huge stone mill straddling the river, part of its roof fallen in. Damems is a tiny request stop. Ingrow West is home to the Vintage Carriages Trust museum, Sadly, we didn't have time to get off and explore that.

It's Ingrow West because there used to be an Ingrow East. This was on the Great Northern line from Keighley, through tunnels and over viaducts to divide at Queensbury (of boxing rules fame) into routes to Bradford and Halifax. This closed in the 1950s. As we trundled down the valley towards Keighley the trackbed of the old route was visible, descending steeply from its high moorland way.

At Keighley the train terminated. Electric trains whirred in and out of the Network Rail half of the station as the engine ran round, took water, then backed on to its train again;

Our seats were now in the leading carriage. As we started off I went to the vestibule and opened the window to enjoy the barking exhaust of 41241 as she hauled her train uphill round the tight bend out of the station. Helen was sitting in her seat, so I beckoned her over to have a look. She was entranced by the experience, so I went to the opposite window to get my share of the action. Here I stayed for most of the ride up the valley.

By the time we reached Oxenhope the light was beginning to dim. We left 41241 to be admired by her many devotees and caught the last 'bus back to Hebden Bridge, repeating the morning's journey in reverse. It was a lovely day out.

Today is my actual birthday. I had a day off, or tried to! I got a sweater, a T shirt and a book! Emuna took me out for lunch in a cafe in the nearby community centre. As I went to get more coffee and cakes a well dressed little woman came over and asked to pay for them. She said that for lent she was doing something nice for someone every day. Why she picked me I don't know. I told her about Hazel. Afterwards we planned to head for the moors. We both enjoy moorlands, We drove the pretty way through Park Bridge and got stuck on a steep hill of unmade road. Eventually we got as far as Greenfield, but Em had started to feel poorly so we headed home. ME is a bugger like that!  I started to read the book, Tales from the Tillerman by Steve Haywood. 

Nessie started work on the cabinsides. This was started pre pandemic and got stalled by that catastrophe. He then put his foot through the roof. I knew the roof needed renewing at the fore end but, unfortunately, it looks like we'll have to do the whole lot. When Nessie started removing the old roof, guess what! We found that the rot had spread into the other side, last renewed in 2010. Looks like that will need replacing too. "Oh it all makes work for the working man to do". 

The team have also started fitting the greenheart top strake that was prepared back in 2019.

We're doing all this work as economically as possible, using up stocks of wood, donated wood and reclaimed timber, but we still have to buy sealants, screws etc. It's amazing what that can mount up to nowadays. You can help by donating to our Go Fund Me.

https://gofund.me/9f6c11ab 

Here's some photos.

The range in Forget me Not's  back cabin obviously needed repair so we took it out.  When we moved it, it fell to bits. I believe new ranges are still available, but they cost thousands, so I asked Dave to rebuild it. Not possible he said. I left the bits in a wheelbarrow for over a year, then asked again. Dave seems to like declaring something impossible, then doing it anyway. Dave and Kim are now busy reconstructing the range.

For as long as I can remember there's been a lovely cherry tree at Portland Basin. One day I arrived to do some work and found tree surgeons busy cutting it down. Apparently it's roots were interfering with the nearby new flats. Well, the tree was there first! 

There was nothing we could do to save it. Nessie had already blagged the branches for firewood (not that we're short). I was more interested in the trunk. I'm well aware of how cherry is sought after by furniture makers etc. The tree surgeons agreed to give us the trunk as well as the branches and we moved Forget me Not   forward so that we could load it all on to her deck.

It's sat there for a couple of months, but now it's in the way. We couldn't move it whole so I got out the chainmill to plank it.

Unfortunately the chainsaw suddenly packed up part way through the job (probably expensive) but we cut enough for now. Today me and Nessie took the planked pieces up to Stalybridge to be stacked and seasoned. We've kept the branches too as these will be of interest to woodturners. In a couple of years we'll advertise it all in the hope of selling it to woodworkers.

Southam came out of the water on 28th December. As I write this we have  1 more day before she returns to her natural element. This phase of work is virtually done now. Next we have to install the engine and rebuild the cabin.

The main job so far  has been to strengthen up her stern end so that it will last, perhaps another 10 years, before we have to bite the bullet and rebuild it. Southam is a heavy boat and tends to sag over the blocks when taken out of the water. Last time she was out, in 2019, we replaced 4 straight sideplanks, but, as she emerged, there was a crack and the side bulged out at the point where the forward bulkhead of the back cabin used to be.

Southam is a 'Big Ricky', built as a butty in 1936 for the Grand Union Canal Carrying Company. In 1965 she was converted and motorised in 1965. We bought her, sunk at Hillmorton, in 1992. By co-incidence, she's named after the town where I went to school when I was a kid.

 Since then she's been a very useful boat, but with periods out of use awaiting repair. Her latest period of disrepair has been about 10 years. We started work on her refurbishment in 2019, but completion was stymied by the covid pandemic and its aftermath.

For some time she has been in the arm at Portland basin, with fellow ricky Elton sunk alongside her. I thought she was trapped by the sunken boat so it seemed urgent to raise it. Again we failed. Again it was because one of the pumps wouldn't work. Lilith had to spend a couple of nights breasted up to the CRT work boat whilst we tried to raise Elton.

Nessie reckoned he could get Southam out. This he succeeded in doing. Southam is now free and waiting to go to Guide Bridge for slipping just after Christmas.

She looks a mess. She is a mess, but work is starting on her again. We just need more people to come and work towards her renaissance so that she can become a really useful boat again, towing, providing accommodation for volunteers, visiting waterway events and possibly becoming a mobile craft outlet.

                                                            MORE VOLUNTEERS NEEDED.

More money needed too-

https://gofund.me/b1cd6613 

Here's a picture of Southam in happier days. With your help  she'll soon be up and running again and doing a useful job.