Two More Engines!

When Southam was motorised and converted back in 1965 she was fitted with a BMC Commodore diesel engine.

These big 3.4 or 3.8 litre engines were also fitted in various BMC commercial vehicles. In fact, we're pretty sure that Southam's one was an ex vehicle engine that had been marinised.

When we collected Southam at Hillmorton in 1992 she had been sunk for some time 

and the engine was in a poorly state. We got it running but eventually it expired in a cloud of smoke.

When the boat eventually reached Runcorn, Mike Bazley and Duggie Shaw rebuilt it with parts from a similar engine out of a fishing boat, transforming it from a 3.4 to a 3.8. The engine soldiered on for many years. It had its injector pump rebuilt and a crack in the cylinder head repaired. 

Eventually, in 2014  the drive shaft disintegrated at the end of a recycling trip, so Southam was laid aside. Forget me Not took over recycling trips, having had her engine replaced.

Southam languished at Portland Basin for several years, gradually deteriorating as we concentrated on finishing Hazel and putting her to work as a well being boat.

Tameside College donated a second BMC 3.8 diesel, of a slightly later  date than the one that we already had. This was timely as, although the old engine was still running, it was clear that there was no longer a lot of compression and a major, and expensive rebuild would be necessary. The new engine had never been used except for training students. Stephan got to work transferring the marinising parts from one engine to another and painting it up to look good.
 Eventually, in 2019, we made a start on returning Southam to service, We put her on dock at Ashton Packet Boat Co and renewed 4 planks in her side.

The idea was that 2020 would be the year that we tackled the crumbling cabin conversion. Little did we know that the world would be shut down by a pesky little virus. Some of us got ill and it took years to get back to the level of volunteer input that we'd been used to. Poor Southam's cabin deteriorated further. Stephan had to drop out for health reasons, but a new volunteer, Tom, took over the task of getting the new 60 year old engine running. This turned out to be more challenging than anticipated. There were many setbacks, and we still needed to match it up to a gearbox.

One day, I was idly looking at engines on Ebay, hoping that someone was selling an Albin AD2 so that Forget me Not could have a spare engine. I came across a pair of BMC 3.8 diesels being taken out of a motor cruiser.

Installed from new in 1962, these engines were being replaced with modern, quieter, machines (yes, these are noisy beasts). They were both running and apparently well maintained and were fitted with hydraulic gearboxes. The price was realistic. I was concerned that Tom would be unhappy to abandon the work he'd put in on the ex college engine, but he suggested that we buy both so that we would have an heir and a spare. I negotiated with the seller and agreed the sale. One problem- they were in Falmouth, 350 miles away.

Dave and Kim got to work to finally get our big trailer fully roadworthy, but came across some setbacks
 Alistair solved the problem by hiring a truck and driving down to Cornwall to collect them.
The donor vessel, Silver Bird , is interesting herself. She is a big wooden twin screw diesel yacht by John Bain, laid down in 1938 ,which saw service with the RNVR during the war.. Her owner clearly loves her and is keeping her well maintained.

The engines were lifted out, wrapped in plastic, and loaded on to the hire truck for the long trek up the M5.

One issue was where to put them. We're trying to declutter Knowl St and Southam needs some work before she is ready to receive an engine. However, we've recently cleared the scrap metal out of Lilith, she floats well  and isn't doing anything much, so me and Nessie bowhauled her down to Ashton Packet Boat Co for loading.

Alistair seemed to enjoy his long journeys, though he had a fright when one of the engines fell over due to a flawed pallet. He carefully backed down the narrow track to the crane, which lifted them over GUCCC Royalty class Prince and gently placed them in Lilith's fore end.




The bowhauling had been difficult as CRT have stopped trimming the towpath edges and quite substantial trees are now growing to hinder the towline. I wasn't looking forward to bowhauling back. Luckily, Kim offered to tow Lilith to Portland Basin with his boat. This is a converted British Waterways work flat. It's quite powerful but, being short and light, is difficult to control with a heavy boat on tow. The longer the line the easier it gets, so i gave Kim the long bowhauling line to tow with.

Lilith is no longer in the best of condition and she has a plank missing from her foredeck. The line initially snagged on one of the spikes from this, but I was later able to release it. 


Since returning to the Basin, Nessie and Aaron have covered the entire hold in a large tarpaulin to keep the weather out.



A day of bangs, delays.and a near miss.

Emuna has a contraption that she uses to get about on in spite of poorly knees. It's a bit like the old hobby horses, what people used before they invented proper bikes. This one has 3 wheels and a comfortable saddle that you sit on and scoot yourself along. The advantage of this is that it takes the weight off her knees but, unlike the disability scooters, (or electric chairs as my mum called hers) you actually get some exercise. The downside is that she has to get off and push up the hill from the town centre to our house.

I bought an electric motor, intended for helping mountain bikes up hills, to help with this problem. It can be connected or disconnected by the operation of a little lever on the handlebar. The frame needed some modifications for fitting this. I took it to our friends Dixon & Smith (motor engineers) in Dukinfield, who did various bits of cutting and welding to make a suitable bracket for it. I collected it and  now have to fathom out fitting a battery and control system for it.

Pushing the contraption from Dixon & Smith's workshop to Portland basin, I came to the top of the cobbled slope that runs down off the bridge over the arm to the marina. I thought I might as well sit on it and ride down. The contraption took off like a rocket ( I'm sure gravity shouldn't be that strong). Rather than using the brake I thought I'd let it run and lean into the curve at the bottom of the slope. Big mistake! 

The contraption isn't made to ride like a bike. I went one way, the contraption went another. I landed heavily on my right shoulder, giving myself a nasty and painful bruise. 

One of the tasks that Emuna has set for me while she's away catsitting  is to collect a laptop from Moston. This was lent to someone who offered to help with the treasurers job, but, changed circumstances meant that she had to drop out. This seems to happen a lot.

I could have gone in the van, but, is it really responsible to use 2 tons of fossil fuel burning metal just to collect a little laptop?  Pre-covid I would have cycled, but, since having long covid I've been wary of doing all but the most local of rides. I decided to take my bike on the train, changing at Victoria.

First I had to visit Hazel and change over from solar to reserve batteries to keep the fridge going overnight for our guests. It had been raining. Everything was wet, but, careless of this, I hopped over the gunnel into the fore end, slipped, fell and sustained a bruised bum to go with my bruised shoulder.

The journey by train to Moston was straightforward. The trains were running like clockwork, all bang on time. Information on the platforms at Victoria is not great though. I just missed my Rochdale train and had a 30 minute wait. It was a very tight connection but I would probably have made it had I been able to instantly see which platform to go to.

I was hungry and hadn't drunk much all day, so, at Moston, I bought fish and chips and a carton of orange juice at exhorbitant prices. I must admit, the chips were very good though. I found the relevant house, picked up the laptop and headed back to the station. A train was scheduled in about 20 minutes. It said 'delayed' on the departures display, but I wasn't too bothered.

The loudspeakers kept apologising for the 19.16 to Rochdale being delayed.  Soon a young man in working attire, wearing a baseball cap, joined me. We struck up a conversation. He told me he was a kitchen fitter. The job he was working on was a complete nightmare because the designers had given wrong measurements.

The loudspeakers warned the non existent people on the other platform to stand back as the approaching train didn't stop there. The only intending passenger had just given up and left. The train did stop and several passengers got off.

The clockwork mechanism seemed to need rewinding.

With a few minutes to go, our train was cancelled. Next one 20.36. I wasn't bothered. I was quite enjoying sitting on the platform bench chatting. I mentioned that my wife was a retired probation officer. He told me that he had been on probation and it was not fair. Strangely, I was not surprised. It turned out that he was just defending his brother who had been set upon by a gang of bigger men outside a club. They said he'd used more than 'reasonable force'. Well, he did put that guy in a coma, but I sympathised with him. The conversation turned to the subject of violence, which seemed to suit him. He told me that, by law, if an intruder comes upstairs to your bedroom you are allowed to use any amount of force to repel them. Perhaps I have some legally qualified friends who can confirm this as it's a new one on me. Of course, the infamous recent airport incident came up. The kitchen fitter thought the copper was justified in kicking in the head a man who was tasered and on the floor. He's not racist, he has an Indian aunt, but the bloke who broke the officers nose will get away with it because he's Asian. I disagreed, but it's amazing how many think like this. Fertile ground for rabble rousers. At least he didn't use the P word.

The time crept towards 20.36 and another passenger arrived. "You timed that well" I said, but he didn't seem to understand. A slightly built bearded man of Middle Eastern appearance, he spoke English, using all the correct words, but, not necessarily in the correct order.

The minutes ticked towards 20.36. I stood up in anticipation of boarding the train. At 20.35 the time expected shifted to 20.37. At 20.36 it shifted again to 20.38. For several minutes this pattern was repeated. They were still announcing that the 19.16 to Rochdale was delayed. Then appeared the dire words "Delayed" for our train rather than an estimated time of arrival. We were then given the helpful information that the train was at Victoria, which presumably meant that the unit had not yet made the journey out to Rochdale, where it would terminate before heading back towards Manchester and picking us up on the way.

After a few minutes dithering I started clipping the lights on to my bike, as it was now proper dark. I said goodbye to the kitchen fitter (the Middle Eastern man had already given up and gone) and wheeled my bike up the slope to the road.

Not so many years ago I used to cycle up to 150 miles in a day, so it's rather galling to be daunted by a ride of 6 or 7 miles. My strength seems to be gradually returning though. I picked my route to minimise hills, as I'm still finding these challenging. I enjoyed the ride,though I was getting a bit hot and I was anxious that I might run out of oomph part way.

The first bit was a busy dual carriageway, then, from Failsworth, a small suburban road, followed by a bit of countryside along the dark Coalpit Lane to join the main A627 at Bardsley.

It was along this road that my evening's adventures nearly came to a disastrous end.

Bardsley Brew is a steep hill leading down into the valley of the river Medlock.  Nearly at the bottom there's a turning to Park Bridge called Waggon Road. The sight lines at the junction are not very good. I enjoyed whizzing down the hill, keeping up with the cars at about 30mph. Suddenly I realised that a car was pulling out of Waggon Road right in front of me. I swerved and shouted and, thank the gods, the driver braked and I missed his front bumper by a midges wotsit.

After this scare I just had a brief climb into Ashton and more suburban back streets before I could unlock the gate, park the bike and go indoors to brew up and flop in Emuna's reclining armchair.

Job done, just in time for Emuna's return.





Trips up the Peak Forest

  We've done a few trips up the Peak Forest recently. Some commercial trips and some wellbeing trips. Mostly we went to Marple aqueduct but on one we went all the way to Bugsworth. The most recent one was up to Gee Cross for a family of wonderful kids. Here's some photos of the trips.




Leaving Captain Clarke's.

Gee Cross.

Gee Cross,

Gee Cross,not sure what "Forget me Not" was pushing!

Gee Cross.

Approaching Woodley.

Scaffold Bridge Woodley.

Scaffold Bridge Woodley.

Woodley.

Joan and Helen on butty.

 Woodley.

Woodley.

Romiley.

Chadkirk

Chadkirk.

In Hyde Bank Tunnel.

Leaving Rose Hill Tunnel.

Bra and other rubbish removed from propeller, hence so much smoke.

Marple aqueduct (by John Tickner)

Marple aqueduct (by John Tickner)

Marple Aqueduct (by John Tickner)

Rose Hill Tunnel (by John Tickner)

Captain Clarke's Bridge by John Tickner

Hyde Wharf (by John Tickner)

Hyde (by John Tickner)

Dunkirk Turn (by John Tickner)

Gee Cross Turn.

Under Globe Bridge


Our Boats in a Coffee Table Book

Em was pricing up some books for the charity shop when she came across The Times Inland Waterways of Britain. She passed it to me to have a look. Inside I found 2 pictures of Portland Basin dating from when Forget me Not was still nicely painted and signwritten. Since then the boats have deteriorated rather, particularly since Covid, but now they are on the up again. I'm hoping that Forget me Not will soon be looking decent again.


Still sorting out Forget me Not.

It's holiday time so everyone seems to be jetting off to some far flung destination. I don't know if it makes people any happier, but it certainly puts a lot of CO2 into the air.

Kim has gone for a month in Australia. Before he went he made another new deck board for Forget me Not . Meanwhile, Nessie and Aaron cleared out another section of hold. We collected some free paving slabs. They are intended for Southam but are being stored in Forget me Not for the time being. That should stop her hogging!

A Hyde Trip

Recently we ran a trip for Works4u college students. /https://works4u.org.uk/ They asked for a 4 hour trip, so the idea was to go to Hyde and back, normally about 3 hours, then see how much time was left, probably enough for a trip through the Asda tunnel and back. The lift bridge in Dukinfield had some fresh rubbish in it and we were stuck there for over an hour, so it was just a trip to Hyde.

Our guests seemed to enjoy it, especially seeing us struggle to get through the bridgehole.

Here's a picture of the boats near Well Bridge. Aaron is steering the motor, Nessie on the butty and Helen being a figurehead.


Lilith Waits

"Lilith" is our oldest boat, originally Lloyds & Lloyds number 9, built in 1901 for working around their Coombeswood ironworks at Halesowen. She was given the name of the mythical goddess, demoness, original woman by an ex girlfriend. I rebuilt her between 1974 and 1983 and she's given many years of service, latterly on recycling trips which finished with the pandemic in 2020. To be honest, she was getting pretty rough by then. The stern end, restored in pine in the 1970s, was in need of rebuilding again.

It would have been nice to get on with this, but lack of volunteers post covid, and me being poorly, meant that we were only just getting the basics done.

Things are looking up now. Lilith is still just used to store firewood, but I think a major renovation is getting closer.

The Clear Up Continues

Our boats and our boatyard have got into a mess. The reason for this has been a combination of illness on my part, covid, and lack of volunteers after covid. Virtually all charities and voluntary groups are suffering from a lack of volunteers. Some have shut down because of it. Anyway, things are looking up. More volunteers are coming forward, longstanding problems with the boats are being addressed and messy corners full of random stuff are being cleared out.

Section by section Nessie and Aaron are clearing out Forget me Not's hold. This latest section was full of aluminium cans, drums full of brake disks for ballast and pitch for pitching seams. They were also tracking down a leak. The old shutts are coming up, as they're pretty rotten, and replaced, for the time being, with cut down pallets. Amazingly, nearly everything in there has a use, even if its only as scrap metal.

Thanks to Helen Kanes for the photos.

Back to Ashton, up the Locks

It was a really enjoyable return trip. Easy going and good company. We tied for the night on the Rochdale in central Manchester. Some of us sampled the delights of a wonderful, ornate, unspoiled Victorian pub called Peveril of the Peak. Up the Ashton locks we were mob handed, which made for easy going. The towpath was closed at lock 3 so Hazel  had to be shafted through that pound.



Aaron Versus the Rose Bush

We're still looking for a wildlife friendly volunteer to take charge of gardening at the Heritage Boatyard, Stalybridge. By 'take charge' I mean that, within agreed guidelines, they make the decisions and they turn up to do the work as needed. If I have to show them every job and make all the decisions and arrange when they're coming etc I might as well do the job myself, which I'd love to if I had the time.

Anyway, there's a big rose bush that had got too big for its boots and was blocking the sight lines for vehicles pulling out from the yard. Something had to be done. I had an old oil lamp, so I rubbed it and a genie appeared, called Aaron. My first wish was for the Rose to diminish.

Equipped with various implements of Destruction, Aaron set to work. Soon the rose was down to a managable size again. Every boatyard needs an Aaron.