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.
At Knowl St Heritage Boatyard there's a big pile of brash that is the result of our efforts to control the over boisterous foliage in the boatyard. The intention was to take this to a spot up the Peak Forest and have a bonfire to celebrate Samhain. Unfortunately a breakdown on "Forget me Not" scuppered that plan, so it was postponed until the Winter Solstice, December 21st.
The brash has to be transported, so it needs to go on "Forget me Not"s deck. The first part of the job is to take "Forget me Not" up the 7 locks to the boatyard. It made sense to take "Hazel" too so that volunteers could gain some experience working a pair through locks, and enjoy the trip too.
I was a bit concerned when I started getting last minute cancellations. It seems that nasty viruses are doing the rounds at the moment. I needn't have worried, by, well, a bit after the start time of 10 am, we had a good team together. Helen, Ozzy, Aaron, Marcus, Andrea, James, Kim and Kath were our crew. Of these, the only experienced boaters were Aaron, Kim and Kath. Kath and Kim elected to go ahead setting locks, so I took the motor and Aaron looked after the butty and help the trainee steerer, initially James.
We immediately picked up something on the blade and struggled to get past the moored boats. I stopped and tugged at what felt like clothing with the cabin shaft. I don't know what it was as it came free and drifted away.
With the blade turning freely we were soon through the Asda tunnel and on to lock1W. With Aaron's help our team quickly picked up the techniques. As I waited for the butty to work up the lock I tied the motor in the entrance to Whitelands 'tunnel' and had another poke at the blade with the shaft, successfully removing some plastic bags and fabric. I then removed some floating tree loppings that were threatening to jam the gates. We encountered many more of these as we worked our way up.
Kath and Kim had gone way ahead of us. We got through the 'tunnel' (opened out over a century ago but still a long narrows that can be difficult if the water is low or there's rubbish in it). This time it was easy going.
After lock 2 there's only a short pound to lock 3 so the motor goes ahead, leaving the butty to be bowhauled the short distance. Unusually, a rather dishevelled looking steel boat was tied in this short pound. As we took water out of the pound to work the lock it began to list alarmingly. With two lockfulls taken I began to wonder if all the roof clutter would stay in place. Luckily it did, but getting the line over for bowhauling was tricky.
Lock 3 had a bottom gate that wouldn't stay open. I had to push it with "Forget me Not"s bows and worried that it might stick and jam the boat. It didn't and I later discovered that there was something spongy behind the gate that oozed oil when compressed. I was pleased to see water pouring over the weir and a tight top gate. For years there have been bad leaks in that top gate, causing low water levels in the long and often rubbish filled pound above (see my post 'Secrets of the Peak Forest).
The long pound was unusually easy to navigate. The only difficulty was a pile of stone ( I think) on the bottom at the approach to lock 4. The motor dragged herself over this but the butty caught her up and they nearly jammed in the narrows.
Locks 4 to 6 have short pounds so the butty is bowhauled through again. Number 6 is very slow filling as the locking mechanism doesn't unlock on one paddle, so only the other one can be used. I was expecting the bowhauler to arrive ahead of the butty and pass the line up to me to do the Indian Rope Trick of swinging it under the lock tail bridge. Instead, "Hazel" arrived at quite a speed being legged under Melbourne St bridge by Aaron.
After waiting an age for the lock to fill the pair attempted to set off. I'd recently made up a new towing line from some rope that appeared to be pretty sturdy. I decided to give it a try. I suppose I gave it quite a snatch setting off from number 4, but nothing extreme. The line exploded. It wasn't as strong as it looked! I backed up the motor and tried again with the old towing line. All went well until the entrance to Tesco. The motor stuck fast on what I imagine was a shopping trolley. I tried all the usual tricks but she wouldn't come free. Crowds of gongoozlers gathered on each side. Eventually I rang Aaron, who was expecting us at lock 7, to ask him to send down a flush of water. This, and assistance pulling on the back end line from a particularly strong gongoozler, got the boat free.
We bounced over a few more shopping trolleys, then something impeded the motor in the tail of lock 7 and we managed to get the 2 boats wedged. This was soon dealt with and we started to work up our final lock of the day.
As the motor rose in the lock a lady with small child in a pushchair stopped to watch. The little boy was fascinated and the pair stayed to watch the whole procedure. Perhaps in 15 years time he'll join us.
A pile of tree offcuts lay to one side of the lock, all waiting to be thrown in and cause havoc down the locks.
The usual procedure is to wind in the winding hole immediately above the lock and reverse up to the boatyard. The boats fit in better facing West. On this occasion Kim is planning to fit new engine 'ole doors so he wants the relevant side facing the bank. We went forwards the 100 yards or so to the boatyard. There seems to have been some silting since we last had boats there as we stemmed up on the approach the were unable to get "Forget me Not"s stern end close to the bank. Kim is going to have to learn to walk on water!
When we rejuvenated Hazel we ended up with a lot of semi decayed wood. This we kept, with the idea of turning it all into saleable craft items. I gave a lot of fragments of Hazel's old bottom to people to paint, but got very few back. Some had lovely castle designs painted on them by the late Anne Riley and Maxine Bailey. Sadly, Anne is no longer with us and Maxine has eye problems so isn't painting any more.
A lot of the wood has been cut down to handy sized chunks with one face sanded ready for painting. What hasn't yet been processed is stored on top of the containers at Knowl St. These containers are now leaking badly. They are going to be covered by some curtainside lorry sheets kindly donated by Tautliners of Newcastle under Lyne. Over the last few weeks I've been gradually shifting the wood to make way for this. i didn't do it when Dave was there as he worried that I'd come through the roof of his workshop.
Today was a lovely cold sunny wintry day, This mornings Hazel trip was cancelled at the last minute so I headed over to Stalybridge to complete the woodshifting job. It's now done and we have to devise a way of getting those heavy PVC sheets up on to the roof.
I'm determined that these pieces of historic but semi decayed wood will eventually be turned into things of beauty. Any budding upcyclers out there who would like to help please get in touch.
I'm hoping that we'll be able to get "Southam" up and running again before too long. I've just come across some pictures of her when she was active
This is on a recycling trip at Fairfield Junction. After doing our collecting we'd have a brew and our butties. Not sure who took the photo. On the roof there's me and Ryan Hinds, In the fore end are Steve Monaghan and Shanaz Begum.
Here she is in 2010 at the Northwich River Festival in Northwich, breasted up to "Black Abbot of Mersey" (formerly "Iris Abbot").
Towing "Forget me Not" and "Lilith" on a recycling trip, and laying a smoke screen whilst passing under Hanover St bridge, Guide Bridge. We couldn't put a chimney on or she wouldn't get under Lumb Lane.
On a summer evening recycling trip. That's Nick Lowther on the left of the fore end and Martin Lowe 2nd from right. Kevin Hatton steering. Not sure who the other two are.
Setting out from Portland Basin on an evening recycling trip. Kevin Hatton steering.
Towing into Hill St bridge, Droylsden, on a Sunday recycling trip. Elsa Williams steering.
Tying above the Anderton Lift on the return trip from Northwich River Festival 2010.
Heading downriver past Anderton during parade of boats, 2010. I was conflicted about those St Georges flags as they are so often used as a symbol of right wing ideas. They were purchased and fitted by one of our crew. I'm English, why should I be worried about flying my national flag I thought. Later I found out that the person who fitted them worships Farage and doesn't like South Asian people. It really pisses me off that Nazis co-opt symbols like this. Taken from another boat but I can't remember who by. Please jog my memory if you know.
The view back from "Southam" on a recycling trip.
Another recycling trip passing Ashton Packet Boat Co. Keith Williams and Steve Morris in fore end. Elsa Williams steering.
A summer evening recycling trip.
Entering a wide Trent & Mersey lock below Burton on Trent en route to Lincoln with "Lilith" to collect timber for rebuilding "Hazel". May 2011.
Another one of "Southam" setting out from Portland Basin on an evening recycling trip.
On dock in 2019. Further work delayed by nasty little virus.
I'm disgusted with my government. I suppose that is not unusual, but aiding and abetting genocide, ie, the Israeli attack on Gaza, goes way beyond the pale.
Let's first deal with a few assumptions that people may make. Am I anti semitic? Of course I'll answer no, but then, so would many obvious anti semites. By chance, my son was technically Jewish, though, unfortunately, he didn't live long enough to decide whether or not he wanted to follow the Jewish traditions. His mother was a great supporter of the Palestinian cause, but for her father, Israel could do no wrong. I am not a holocaust denier, some of my sons relatives were murdered in that event, nor do I go along with conspiracy theories of secret societies, dominated by Jews, plotting to take over the world.
Am I anti Israeli? Well, no, not as such. While I question the long term wisdom of setting up Israel in 1948, if I were around at the time I would probably have supported the idea. Israel is a fact and it has millions of citizens and it is simply not realistic to wish for it to disappear. However, everyone needs to understand that each time Israel has expanded it has been by violence. The pattern has generally been that it has been attacked by it's neighbours who were pissed off about their land being stolen, only for the Israeli forces to win and take more land, which pisses off the neighbours even more. Some people would take that to be anti-semitic, but I would just like to see an Israel living peacefully with its neighbours and using its vast wealth to help them rather than kill them. Of course, it takes two to tango, and it's hard to make friends with someone whose home you've stolen at gunpoint.
Do I support Hamas? No, of course not. They are basically genocidal religious maniacs who would rejoice at the annihilation of all Jews. The fact that they are in power in Gaza is the inevitable result of the hard line attitude of successive Israeli governments. The extremists on both sides feed on each other to grow stronger. That's the big problem. As well as right wing deeply dishonest populists, the Israeli government now also contains genocidal religious maniacs who believe the complete lands of Judea and Samaria to be rightfully theirs by order of God and who would rejoice at the annihilation of all Palestinians.
Back in 1915 there was a little remembered genocide. It's little remembered partly because at the time the world's focus was on the thousands upon thousands of combatants who were dying daily in the Great War. But, the amnesia is also partly because the Turkish perpetrators to this day refuse to acknowledge their guilt. I understand it's quite dangerous to talk about it in Turkey.
When the plans for the 'Final Solution' were put to Hitler he apparently asked the rhetorical question "Who now remembers the Armenian Christians?". And so the Holocaust went ahead.
When I saw the news this morning that the Israeli "Defence" Force had told the occupants of Northern Gaza to move South, an impossibility, it reminds me so much of the Turkish events of 1915. Of course, when the Israelis invade, any 'collateral damage' of women, children, disabled, sick and injured will be their own fault for not heeding this impossible order. Any able bodied men killed will be labelled as Hamas 'terrorists' armed or not. Israel can wash its hands of the genocide.
Instead of supporting Israel, sending warships to the area etc, our governments, and all decent governments in the world, should be condemning the Israeli government, perhaps even sending a peacekeeping force to protect the Gazans.
One more thing. It is said that the Hamas attack on Israel was the result of a huge failure of intelligence on the part of Mossad. I'm not a conspiracy theorist, but I find that very hard to believe. However, in the Israeli government there is a leader who is facing corruption charges and many hard liners who would love an excuse for a 'Final Solution'. Probably many in Mossad feel the same way, I don't know.
When my Jewish ex and her dad argued with each other about Middle Eastern politics I kept my head down. They loved each other undoubtedly, but they pulled no punches. I remember once, when Israeli forces had made an incursion into Palestinian lands she shouted at him, "What do you call this, the final solution. I cringed, it wasn't. Not then.
Kim and his son Joe joined me for a days labour at Knowl St boatyard today. Joe and Kim's main job was cutting back the buddleia bushes that have gone rampant along the Eastern edge of the yard. They've been feeding the local butterflies all summer, but now they have to go.
I had to leave early because of a hospital appointment but I was able to start the job of putting new tarpaulins over the containers. The first part of this task is moving "Hazel"s old planks that are stored there pending being cut up and painted as saleable craft items.
The tarpaulins were donated by Tautliners UK and they will cover up the leaks in the container roofs.
Those containers have given us good service, but they're coming to the end of their days now. We could replace them with newer containers, but that would just be a temporary fix. Temporary fixes have a bad habit of becoming permanent. We really need to get on with developing the boatyard and constructing permanent workshops.
It was such a simple straightforward idea. Our boats hadn’t been
far from home since before the pandemic, and we did used to so enjoy
going to festivals. Why not go to some this year?
The plan was to
attend the Middlewich Folk & Boat Festival and the Lymm Historic
Transport day, working in a trip on the Weaver for a couple who have been long term supporters, an anniversary present from their daughters, a visit to
“Hazel”s birthplace in Runcorn and a trip for “Hazel”
sponsors.
Normally our route
would be to go the pretty way, via the Macclesfield Canal. An Airbnb
booking the weekend before the Middlewich festival meant that there
wasn’t time to go by this route, especially as there were lock
restrictions because of water shortages.
We set off with
“Forget me Not” and “Hazel” on 13th June, a blazing hot day.
Aaron manfully bowhauled “Hazel” down the 18 narrow locks of the
Ashton canal and we worked part way down the Rochdale 9 to tie
opposite the entrance to the former Manchester & Salford Junction
Canal (now merely a permanently padlocked stub).
Next day we worked
down the last few wide locks of the Rochdale and along the
Bridgewater Canal as far as Lymm,
where the crew enjoyed a drink in
the Spreadeagle, of which my great grandfather was once the landlord.
Before we left, Nessie had given us an allegedly good battery to
work the headlight. In Preston Brook tunnel this faded to nothing.
Luckily we had a good powerful LED torch with us which saw us through
Saltisford and Barnton tunnels. The weather was still baking hot and
the overheated water was beginning to cause problems for aquatic
life. In the wide between the two tunnels we passed the sad remains
(and stench) of many dead fish.We tied for the night opposite
Anderton Marina.
A few years ago we
tied at Anderton Marina overnight and they charged our batteries for
free because of our charitable status. The marina is now under
corporate management which is less altruistic.
In the morning we
shafted “Hazel” over to the marina for a pumpout. The pump was
very slow and didn’t complete the task, though we still had to pay
the full £22.60. The cheerful lady operating the pump engaged me in
a conversation about toilets and the necessary compound that we add
to them to prevent odours. She congratulated us on the quality of our
sewage. Nigel Hamilton arrived to examine “Hazel” for her Boat
Safety Certificate, which, thankfully, he issued. We tried to fill
“Hazel”s water tank but found that our hose was useless.
We carried on to
Middlewich but were a bit worried about finding a suitable spot to
tie. Some boats had ignored the notices closing the moorings to non
festival boats, so we had to tie, breasted, just above Big Lock,
making it a challenge for novice boaters to get past. Despite our
insistence that these were historic boats, the festival organisers
had included us in the floating market area.
On the Saturday morning Iain and Vicki arrived with the tombola to
set up, our first use of the fine big gazebo that was donated several
years ago.
I spent much of my time aboard “Hazel” chatting with visitors and
doing my best to persuade them to become “Hazel” sponsors. This
kept us busy all day and most of Sunday,
One of the difficulties if we have a private booking is to pare down
the crew to just those for whom there is space in the back cabins.
Generally I’m trying to fill the boats for trips so that the
maximum of people can benefit, but, if it’s a private booking the
boat is all for our guests. In this case the crew for the Weaver trip
was to be Liz and me and sadly, others were disappointed to have to
go home on Sunday. Aaron was to stay for Monday then leave us.
On Sunday evening I
got a train home to collect the Land Rover. Changing trains on Crewe
station I got a ‘phone call from one of our guests to say that the other had
been taken into hospital and so they wouldn’t be coming.
We decided to go on
to the Weaver anyway as the lift passages were booked and paid for. I
started trying to get back some of the crew I’d sent home!
Monday evening found
us back at Anderton where we took “Hazel” into Uplands marina
,where Liz keeps her boat. Maxine joined us and we all trooped off to the Stanley Arms for a meal, only to find that it was the chef's night off. We returned to the boat and Liz rustled up a meal from what was in the cupboards.
Liz had arranged for us to stay the night,
charge the batteries and fill the water tank, using a borrowed hose.
It was a struggle to get “Hazel” alongside the facilities area as
the water was only deep enough for lightweight pleasure boats.
Another £22.60 bought us a complete pump out from Anderton Marina in
the morning.
Our booking on the
Anderton lift was around midday and, after being lowered down we
tied up and went for lunch in the lift cafe.
Afterwards we headed upriver
and tied in Northwich for shopping, where Maxine left us.
Wednesday morning Liz and I carried on upriver.
The plan had been to go to
Winsford but Vale Royal locks were closed (are they ever open?). We
winded below the locks and Liz made an excellent job of bringing the
pair on to a landing stage on which there was only about 50 feet
available because of a fibreglass cruiser that had been left there.
After lunch we went
downstream again
to tie for the night at Acton Bridge.
I took “Forget
me Not” down to Dutton locks to seek out some old friends who live
in one of the lockside houses. As a result of my phoning around ,Lois
joined us.
Thursday afternoon
we were booked back up the lift so we went back towards Anderton.
After ascending we winded and headed North.
Just past the lift
the canal narrows. We had travelled breasted for a short way from the
winding hole but began to single out . As we started doing this we
met a series of boats coming the other way. A complication was that
the butty stuck to the motor, as sometimes happens, and it took a lot
of pushing to get her to slip back so that we were only taking up 7
feet of canal width rather than 14 feet. For a horrible moment I
thought that “Hazel” was going to collide head on with an
oncoming steel boat. As we rounded the turn we were confronted with
more oncoming craft as well as boats moored on both sides of the
canal. A single boat could stop under control but, rather like an
aeroplane, a motor and butty pair just has to keep moving forward.
With some nifty steering we managed to keep moving and avoid any
collisions.
We tied in the wide
between Barnton and Saltisford tunnels. Alistair had been travelling
from the deep South and joined us just in time for tea.
On Friday we
travelled on through Saltisford tunnel and along the edge of the
Weaver valley to Dutton. Whilst waiting for entry to Preston Brook
tunnel Paul and Lynnette of the Dutton Dry DockCompany kindly donated some very useful rope.
We stopped briefly just after Preston Brook Marina so that Lois could
catch a train home from Runcorn East station.
The idea of calling
at the Bridgewater Motor Boat Club on a Friday evening was that it’s
their club night when the bar is open. Their club house, at the
Sprinch, is about 100 yards from the site of Simpson Davies boatyard
where “Hazel” was built, now lost under an expressway. This
particular Friday virtually everyone in the club had gone on a cruise
to Middlewich and the bar was closed. Nevertheless, the few people
who were there were very welcoming.
I’d left the Land Rover parked on a posh looking street in
Middlewich. One of the door locks was faulty. My calculation was that
if I left it somewhere posh they’d call the police, but this was
preferable to leaving it somewhere dogrough, where it would get
robbed. Sure enough, the shop got a ‘phone call from the police.
On Friday evening I
caught a train from Runcorn to Winsford, then a ‘bus to Middlewich
to pick up the vehicle. Early on Saturday morning I drove to Lymm to
park it ready for the event. I had hoped to return to Runcorn by ‘bus
but the first one was not until 9.30, which was too late. I walked
along the old railway track and then alongside the Manchester Ship
Canal, Including a detour along the now dry bed of the side cut that
I remember being used by the “Humber Trader” and “Panary” to
deliver grain to Allied Mills Warrington works. Eventually I caught a
Runcorn bound bus from Daresbury.
Saturday should have
been the “Hazel” sponsors trip. Our guests were Keith and Elsa
Williams and Glenys and Graham Lee. Unfortunately I failed to turn
the fuel on and this led to a series of problems culminating in the
starter motor packing up. We had to haul the boats back to the
Sprinch and throw them on to the mercies of the BMBC. Luckily our
guests didn’t seem too disappointed and Graham and Glenys gave me a
lift to Lymm to pick up the Land Rover, which was now in the wrong
place again!
At the Lymm event we
used road vehicles to establish our stall in a field full of historic
cars and ran another successful tombola.
Monday 26th should have been the day when we left the
Bridgewater canal to start ascending the locks towards Ashton.
Instead it was the day on which I took the starter motor to
Middletons in Hulme to be fixed. That particular motor is not one
that you can take to a car parts shop for an exchange. I asked
Middletons to look into getting a spare as this was not the first
time we’d had problems with it. They told me the cheapest one
they’d been able to source was £800!
For the next
fortnight myself and Aaron took it in turns to look after the boats
at Runcorn. The BMBC people were very helpful, but eventually we had
to move off their moorings as there was simply nowhere to put two 70’
boats without interfering with other activities.
Whilst the boats were stranded in Runcorn, ugly rumours circulated
about problems on the Rochdale canal in Manchester. A check on the
CRT website revealed that a heelpost had failed on one of the locks,
thus denying us the most direct route home. I posted on Facebook that
we would have to take the longer route via Macclesfield, only for
someone to point out that another heelpost had failed on the Trent &
Mersey, thus blocking that route.
Regular checking of
stoppage updates suggested that the Trent & Mersey was going to
be open first, so, when I was finally able to fit the repaired
starter, Aaron and I set out once more in the direction of
Middlewich.
Generally speaking, when our pair travel around the waterways they
elicit a positive response from onlookers, be they boaters or
gongoozlers. The cameras and mobile ‘phones often come out to
record the event. Sadly, it’s an evolutionary quirk of humans that
we notice the negative more than the positive. We notice loud, fat,
stupid Americans much more than we notice quiet, slim, intelligent
ones for example.
Preston Brook tunnel
has a timed entry system to prevent boats meeting in the middle. We
had to wait at the Northern entrance for our entry time. One boat was
ahead of us. The last of a convoy of Northbound boats was a little
late leaving the tunnel, but I’m pretty sure we were within our
time slot. 10.30 to 10.40 AM, when we entered. I suppose I did go
quite slow but as I exited the tunnel I saw an angry looking old man
anxiously watching. I checked the time and saw that it was 11.02. We
were 2 minutes late. As we passed his boat, the only one waiting, he
launched into a tirade against me. The gist of this was that we were
5 minutes late and that this was proof positive that I was riding
roughshod over the rights of law abiding boaters and people like me
(?!!!!) thought the rules didn’t apply to us. His wife looked a
little embarrassed. I pointed out that he really needed to go boating
more often in order to learn the calming ways of the cut.
Immediately South of
Barnton tunnel the canal describes an S bend. The southward part of
this is rather tricky, a very tight turn leading to a blind narrow
bridgehole which has been extended into the curve as the road has
been widened. I was pleased that we were able to negotiate this
without either boat catching the vicious concrete edging. Beyond this
watery chicane the canal continues very narrow, with some moored
boats to complicate navigation. As we passed these we could see a
steel boat approaching from the opposite direction. Despite the
restricted width of the waterway, there was room to pass each other.
To my surprise the oncoming boat suddenly crashed into a forest of
Japanese Knotweed on the outside bank and stopped.
As I passed the
steerer he loudly asked “Why are you towing that pile of s**t”
then ordered me to “cut it loose”. It was clear that an intake of
intoxicating fluids had clouded his judgement. He shouted more abuse
at Aaron as he passed. I didn’t catch the details but Aaron later
told me that he had been very rude.
One of the sad
things that I’ve noticed in recent years is that very few people
seem to understand that a motor and butty are an item and that
working boats that way is one of the traditions of the cut. The
assumption, even amongst many boat dwellers, is that “Hazel” has
broken down. My explanation that she is a butty usually meets with
blank incomprehension. I even once had a red faced canal worker
screaming at me because, having worked the motor through a lock, I
drew a paddle to refill it for the following butty.
The roasting hot weather had ended with the Lymm festival and we
boated on through many showers and gusty winds. We could have reached
Middlewich that day , but I was aware of the need to get back to
Runcorn by public transport. At Broken Cross, near Northwich, we
found a 70 foot gap in a long line of moored craft and pulled into
it, in spite of the now vicious and wet wind having other ideas. I
rushed off to go and collect the Land Rover, discovering in the
process how useless public transport can be away from Greater
Manchester. We were both required back at base to do shop deliveries
the next day.
On our return we
discovered that a combination of speeding boats, gales and rather
soft ground had conspired to pull out our mooring pins and set the
boats adrift. They had been re-moored by a combination of strength
from passing hire boaters and skill from the elderly couple on the
next boat.
Sam joined us and we set off towards the flashes, then followed the
wandering route through the woods, fields and reed beds of Whatcroft
until, at last, Middlewich hove into view.
We stopped at Town
Wharf to take water, then moved the short distance to Andersen’s
hire base for a pump out. My calculation was that, if we left the
fridge switched off, “Hazel” would need no more servicing until
we reached Ashton.
It’s a strange
thing, rather like the well known phenomenon regarding ‘buses.
Whilst we were busy catering to “Hazel”s domestic needs, the cut
was remarkably quiet. As soon as we started to work the locks, myriad
craft appeared from both directions. A pleasure boat had occupied
the lock landing so I had to perform some acrobatics to tie “Hazel”
to a tree growing in the bank of the adjacent river Croco in order to
allow a downhill boat to leave the first lock.
One of the boats
following us was the former River class butty “Yeo”. Though still
looking like a butty and sporting original fibreglass ‘blue tops’
this boat has in fact been discreetly motorised. River class boats,
resembling anorexic Thames lighters, represent the final fling of
working narrow boat building. Of welded steel construction with
plywood cabins they had the innovation of glass fibre lids to protect
the load rather than the traditional cloths. Some were built as late
as 1962 and most had extremely short working lives.
“Yeo”s skipper
generously helped others through the locks, including us, despite
being singlehanded himself.
We tied the motor
above the third lock to allow the bowhauled butty to catch up, then
towed past the moored boats at The Wharf and past Wardle junction to
work up Kings Lock and tie, breasted, beside the main road. I had
positioned the Land rover nearby in the morning, so I was able to
give Sam a lift back to his car. Later that evening “Yeo” passed
us, bemoaning the time wasted helping others, tying for the night
below Rumps Lock.
For the next day’s
journey Alistair once again braved the motorways of England to join
us, arriving first despite having travelled about 200 miles. Paul and
Kate Sillitoe also joined us, along with Chrissie Gladwin. This was
nice as I hadn’t seen them for years. Back in 1990 Paul helped me
to fight the authoritarian British Waterways Bill. They helpfully
left a car at Malkins Bank, our destination for the day.
The weather was a
mix of sunshine and rain. From Middlewich to Sandbach the locks are
single and narrow, well spaced out so we towed on a short strap
between them. Rumps lock and Crows Nest Lock are notoriously tight
and pose difficulties for a boat, such as “Southam”, suffering
from middle aged spread.
At each lock the motor would tow the butty into the tail and stop it
just short of the gates. The mastline would be thrown up on to the
lockside and the gates closed behind the motor. Once the top paddles
were drawn the butty would be pulled tight against the bottom gates
and the line tied to a lockside bollard so that she couldn’t move.
When the lock was full the top gate would be opened and the motor
moved out, then backed on to the top gate as soon as it was closed to
be left ticking over in reverse gear whilst waiting for the butty to
work through.
The lock would be emptied with the butty right tight against the
bottom gates. This is important. If left drifting below the lock the
flush from the paddles would carry her away. If the line was slack
and a gap was left between boat and gate then an eddy would carry her
forward to hit the gates with an unpleasant crash. Similarly, once
the butty is in the lock she has to be tied tightly forward to keep
her from bashing about in the lock.
As the butty rises
she is connected again to the motor with the short strap. The motor
steerer steps aboard, engages forward gear and the butty helps to
open the gate as she nudges forwards.
Above Crows Nest
lock there’s a long pound which winds round the edge of Sandbach
and carries on to Wheelock. The banks have been raised with brutal
concrete to compensate for salt mining subsidence.
From Wheelock the
locks are paired, ie, two narrow locks side by side. If they’re
both working these are excellent for a motor and butty. The motor
casts off the butty as they approach the locks and the butty drifts
into one lock while the motor enters the other. The two boats work
through simultaneously, then join together again above the lock. By
using a long line to tow the motor can pull the butty out of its
lock, thus saving a lot of effort.
On this occasion the
long line strategy didn’t work as the angle of pull made the motor
uncontrollable. I puzzled about this, it’s worked before!
Eventually I realised that I’d only done it in the past going
downhill, where the lock islands are shorter. Our line simply wasn’t
long enough for uphill use. Instead we had to work the motor over to
the butty’s side, which was inconvenient. I’ll bring a longer
line next time!
Soon we reached
Malkins Bank
where we caught up with “Yeo” again. “Yeo” was carrying on to
tie just below the broken lock, several locks further up at Hassall
Green. I wanted to stop at Malkins Bank to see more old friends that
I’ve been out of touch with for years. For many years Malcolm
Webster has run a boatyard in the arm here and has carried out some
first class restorations. The last one was a new hull for “Lady
Hatherton”, the former directors launch of the Staffordshire and
Worcestershire canal. Nowadays he does little boat work as Pam, his
partner, is disabled by a stroke and his time is taken up with caring
for her.
We tied up and did
the usual car shuffle to all get home again. From home I monitored
updates on the lock repairs. As it happens, I was on “Hazel”
doing some jobs when the lock opened, a little ahead of schedule. We
couldn’t move immediately as I had to round up a crew and I was
required at Ashton on the Thursday to do shop deliveries.
It was Friday 21st July when we were able to move again.
The schedule was set by lock limitations because of an (alleged) lack
of water on the Macclesfield/Peak Forest summit and unavoidable
appointments for me and Aaron on Monday 24th.
My plan was to set
off from Malkins bank at 7am and put in a good day in order to make
sure we were on the Macclesfield canal by nightfall. In fact, just as
I was preparing to start the engine, a rattle of paddle gear told me
that someone else had started even earlier. A fibreglass boat passed
and took the lock that I had just set.
Chrissie and her
friend John had spent the night parked up in their respective camper
vans. Aaron and Elizabeth had stayed on “Hazel”, myself on
“Forget me Not”. Paul joined us having parked his car at Rode
Heath and walked down. We were soon making good progress, despite the
pleasure boat ahead of us, and quickly reached the lock that had been
broken. This was once a paired lock, but one lock of the pair had
long ago been abandoned. As we were leaving , Chrissie and Paul were changing over as butty steerers/lock wheelers so that Chrissie could
exercise her dog on the towpath. Unfortunately Paul missed the boat
as he tried to get aboard and fell into the head of the lock. We
stopped the boats and lit the stove in “Hazel” to help Paul to
dry out.
The two Pierpoint
locks are singles close together, so we drew the butty into the tail
of the first lock. As the motor rose in the first lock I saw that a
boat was coming down the second lock, which would normally take our
return lockfull. However, our butty was already firmly tied in the
tail of the lock and it would be a major faff to back it out. I
decided that I’d explain to the steerer of the downhill boat that
it was our butty and needed to follow on. I had miscalculated the
personality of the steerer.
Almost before he had
entered the pound he began shouting that it was his lock and swearing
at me. My attempt at explanation was drowned out by his foul mouthed
tirade. I missed the next part of the canal rage incident as I was
working the motor through the next lock. I am told that he approached
Aaron and threatened him with violence, only backing off because
Chrissie began videoing the scene with her ‘phone.
Peace returned above
Peirpoint and soon we reached Rode Heath, where Paul left us to
drive home and dry out properly. Steadily we climbed up away from the
Cheshire plain through pleasant dairy farming country. Some locks
were paired, some were single. We towed between some and bowhauled
the butty between others, depending on the distance involved. At last
we reached the paired locks that mark the summit.
Counter intuitively,
the turn to the Macclesfield canal is to the right rather than the
left. In fact this first part is a branch of the Trent & Mersey
which turns Eastward to cross the main canal by an aqueduct. The
Trent & Mersey company charged a huge toll for using this short
length to discourage traders from using the shorter, but more heavily
locked, Macclesfield route to get to Manchester. Along this short but
expensive stretch we passed two wooden Thomas Clayton tar boats,
“Tay” and “Spey”, facing in opposite directions.
Up until the mid
1960s, when ‘North Sea Gas’ made coal gas redundant, these wooden
tank boats were used to transport liquid bye products, such as tar,
from gasworks to chemical plants. They even transported diesel fuel
from Ellesmere Port to the midlands!
At Hall Green stop
lock the Macclesfield Canal proper begins. We worked through. The
lock only has a fall of about 6”. We found a 70 foot gap in the
moored craft and breasted up for the night.
I cycled to Malkins Bank to collect the Land Rover. Later I had a
conversation with a hire boater who was baffled by the idea of using
unpowered boats and had never heard of a butty. I told him to google
it. He probably learned a lot about sandwiches that evening.
Having parked their
vans nearby, Chrissie and John left in the morning. That left Aaron,
Elizabeth and I with the pleasant task of moving the boats on to the
bottom of Bosley locks, ready to ascend the following day. Because of
(alleged) water shortages the locks were only open two days a week.
I was pleased to
find that we were only third and fourth in the queue. Other boats
began form up behind us, including “Tay”. Immediately ahead was a
brand new all singing all dancing full knobs and whistles boat called
“Unforgettable”. What an appropriate name that turned out to be.
Its proud owner was a quietly spoken American from Michigan.
I cycled back to
Hall Green, drove the Land Rover to Macclesfield then cycled back
along the towpath to Bosley. I’d had a text to say that my hospital
appointment had been changed to a telephone consultation, but Aaron
still needed to get back to Ashton and Elizabeth had to get home for
her cat.
At 8.30 prompt CRT
volunteers arrived to unlock the flight and start helping boats
through. Just as we were about to start moving Joe, Alex and John
appeared simultaneously. Joe is a tree surgeon from Cumbria who
supplied some of the timber for “Hazel”. He brought with him a
young part trained sheep dog called Dexter who he had rescued from a
rather unpleasant existence. Alex used to work at the Boat Museum but
is now employed at the Wharf hire base in Middlewich. I wasn’t
expecting John as the lack of ‘phone signal in the area meant that
I hadn’t got his messages.
I took the motor up
the locks, sometimes alone, sometimes with help from Joe, leaving the
rest of the team to haul the butty through. I quickly found that we
also had to work “Unforgettable” through the flight as the
American was singlehanded and had new knee joints, which made it
difficult to climb lock ladders. His strategy seemed to be to sit
helplessly in a lock until someone worked it for him.
His plan was to take the boat via the Rochdale Canal to York. He
would then have a routine of alternating 3 weeks on the boat,
followed by 3 weeks in the USA, clocking up a formidable amount of
air miles and a king sized carbon footprint. Of course, he is a
climate change denier, in spite of the increasingly urgent warnings
of climate scientists.
It will be
interesting when he gets on to the tidal Ouse and has to negotiate
the Selby bridges on a flood tide!
At the top lock Alex
took over steering the motor and I enjoyed sitting on the deck
watching the countryside slip by.
We tied in Macclesfield
and Alex and I walked to the nearby street where I had parked the Land
rover. It was making a strange croaking noise and the battery was
flat. As soon as we started trying to sort out the problem angry
residents appeared complaining that the horn had been blaring all
night, keeping them awake. It looked like the alarm had gone off, but
I’d no idea why. The croaking noise was the horn extracting the
last few milliamps of power from the battery.
Attempts to start
the Land Rover proved futile, and noisy. Alex came to the rescue. He
‘phoned a friend in Macclesfield who gave him a lift to pick up his
vehicle, then he gave Elizabeth, Aaron and me a lift back to Ashton.
After spending a
night at home I got a train to Stalybridge where there was a charged
up battery. I wrapped this in a plastic sack (lest any railway worker
should object to me taking a lead acid battery on a train) and
strapped it to a little trolley on which I trundled it to the
station. After an easy rail trip to Macclesfield I was able to change
batteries on the Land Rover, having first disconnected the horn. To
my surprise, the engine started easily. I left the vehicle for future
use and joined Joe and Dexter on the boats. I later discovered that the problem was nothing to do with the alarm but a short circuit in the steering column.
We set off for Marple. I had expected to have to do this trip at
night because of my hospital appointment. Because it had changed to a
telephone appointment I kept my ‘phone close by. Emuna was
monitoring the landline at home in case they rang that one. In fact
they didn’t ring at all, The text changing it to a telephone
consultation had been sent in error and I should have been at the
hospital! Such mistakes are inevitable in an underfunded understaffed
service where everybody is under constant pressure.
As we got closer to Marple I imagined a huge queue of boats waiting to go down the
locks, which are only open Tuesdays and Saturdays.
My anxiety grew as
we passed solid lines of moored craft. These included “Holly” the
cafe boat, the proprietors of which issue frequent You Tube vlogs
about, well, themselves. We went through the penultimate bridge of
the Macclesfield canal to find, amazingly, a 70 foot spot on the
short term moorings opposite the former wharf, now a building site
for yet more upmarket housing.
I later found out
that this mooring had been occupied by “Zero”, the living boat
attached to “Holly”. They’d just gone off to fill their water
tank and, by stealing their mooring, we forced them into making an
unscheduled evening trip to High Lane. It’s all there in their
video, including a nice shot of our boats. Shame they still know
nothing about them.
Joe, Dexter and I went for a walk around the area. At the head of the
locks, waiting to be first through in the morning, we found, of
course, “Unforgettable”.
When I emerged from
my cabin next morning I noticed a bike chained up on the towpath that
seemed strangely familiar. Joe was up too and we began to speculate
about when Aaron would appear. There was a noise from within the back
cabin and then the slide slid back to reveal the man himself. He’d
cycled up from Ashton in the night.
I started the engine
just after 8 and we moved through the old stop lock and the junction
bridge to follow “Unforgettable” down the locks. Paul arrived to
help, undaunted by his recent full immersion.The lock volunteers
seemed to mostly concentrate on assisting the helpless American,
which suited us fine as it kept him out of our way.
The final lock had a badly leaking top ground paddle which had partly
drained the pound. I tied the motor below the lock, closed the bottom
gates, then borrowed Aaron’s bike to ride up and see where the
butty had got to. She was about 4 locks back so I rode back down,
stopping to draw top paddles to prepare the locks. Lock 1 was already
nearly full from the leaking paddle. I drew the paddles to finish
filling, but the ground paddle was reluctant to go back down again. I
wound it down against some resistance, then suddenly it dropped right
down, the rack dropping away from the pinion.
I walked back up to the butty and bowhauled the last few locks. We
reported the paddle problem to a CRT volunteer. He borrowed some
tools to try to retrieve the rack, to no avail.
Soon we were away on
the final 7 mile pound to Ashton.
As we passed through Dukinfield
lift bridge, grinding over submerged rubbish as usual, I noticed
someone waving. It was Damien, a former volunteer, in our charity shop, along
with his partner.
We dropped off
“Hazel” in Dukinfield at Dixon & Smith (Motor Engineers)
workshop to charge up her batteries. As she crossed the Tame aqueduct
“Forget me Not” picked up a bladeful of plastic bags, the first
one of the whole journey. Alongside “Lilith” lay a CRT workboat.
Not only had they not asked if they could breast up but they’d
actually put their own lock on the museum gates without asking. On
the towpath side lay the sunken remains of a burned out fibreglass
cruiser.
There’s no place
like home!
Many thanks to Liz Stahford, Chrissie Gladwin, Joe Hodgson and Rebekah Jane Parrott for most of the photos.
The last time we took "Forget me Not" and "Hazel" away from home waters and didn't get a problem with either water shortage or lock failures was 2017. Now funding is being cut for the waterways (so that billionaires don't have to pay too much tax).
It would have been OK if "Forget me Not" hadn't broken down at Runcorn. We could have got home easily. Unfortunately, while the boats lay at the Sprinch in the care of the Bridgewater Motor Boat Club a heelpost failed at lock 87 of the Rochdale canal. OK, I thought, we'll have to go the long way round via Macclesfield, only to discover that there was another heelpost failure at lock 57 of the Trent & Mersey canal.
We decided that it looked like the longer route would be open first so, once we got the engine running again, me and Aaron started the boats moving, reaching Broken Cross near Northwich on the first day. We had to go back to Ashton to do the Thursday shop deliveries but returned on Friday ready for a saturday move on to Middlewich helped by Sam Kennion. We had a good crew on Sunday with Alistair, Chris Gladwin, Paul and Kate Sillitoe and, of course, Aaron.
It was an excellent journey up the Cheshire locks as far as Malkins Bank to tie outside Pam and Malcolm's boatyard. The boats are just a few locks short of the broken lock and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it will re-open at the end of the week.
By Friday 9th June "Hazel" has to be ready. She won't be. But her state of unreadiness won't be too bad. Charlie and Danny have been visiting as often as possible. Charlie has been painting, Danny fitting the new windows. Gradually I've been pottering about doing little jobs.
Iain fitted "Forget me Not"s gearbox and I adjusted it. It seemed to be working OK so Aaron and me took her for a test trip up to Jet Amber and back, On our way we stopped by the Great Central bridge to put some old carpet round one of our oak trees to help to conserve water and discourage encroaching Japanese Knotweed.
Back at the basin we breasted "Forget me Not" up to "Lilith" and I moved the pair out of the way while Aaron made a meal of winding "Hazel".
With "Hazel" the other way round Aaron got to work painting the cabinside. At least it would have a top coat on it. As luck would have it a new volunteer called Alison showed up, having come all the way from New Zealand in order to paint "Hazel". She got stuck in and by dusk the second side was beginning to look like someone loved it.
The next few days will have to be spent removing tools and unused materials, cleaning, putting up curtains etc. We set off for Middlewich in a week. Unfinished jobs will have to wait until we get back. It's been a longer job than anticipated, not helped by the fact that I've only been firing on 3 cylinders most of the time. I'm hoping we've turned the corner now and the boats will start to be on the up again. There's a lot to do and more volunteers always needed.
The sun has been shining so Charlie is able to get on with external painting.Her big frustration now is not rain or wind blown dust, but flies that keep sticking themselves to her paint. Danny has got one of the fine new double glazed windows in. The solar panels are all connected up and generating lots of power.
Yesterday we had a visit from Starsky and Hutch! Martin Hutchinson and his dog Starsky are travelling the world on a recumbent bicycle trying to raise awareness about environmental issues.They stayed overnight at Portland Basin and made a video for You tube. They intend to finish their journey in Australia in 2030. Not sure that Starsky mill manage another 7 years trotting alongside the bike though!
"Hazel" is now back in Ashton but work carries on. A visit from the surveyor threw up various new problems, not least that the woodstove needs repairing/replacing. Its a bit touch and go whether we'll make it to Middlewich for the Folk & Boat Festival. It's not been helped by me being ill, side effects from radiation therapy. Today I hoped to get the new windows fitted, but it was raining. Instead, Danny worked on rebuilding the cupboard where the calorifier used to be, whilst Charlie started repainting the inside.