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 the other end of the Asda tunnel there stood a tall silver birch, self seeded in the bit of towpath that was cut off when Asda was built. Recently some gales brought it down across the canal. It was difficult to get past, so somebody cut it at the edge of the copings, leaving the offcut in the water. It was easier to get past, but still a nuisance.
Yesterday I adjusted "Forget me Not"s gearbox as we'd been having trouble getting it to engage forward gear properly when it was hot. After doing the adjustment I took her for a test trip, through the Asda tunnel, wind at Eli Whalley's then back through the tunnel.
When I reached the tunnel I thought it a good idea to do something about the tree, so I tied it to a dolly and towed it. with all the branches it created a lot of drag. Back at the basin I left it alongside the boat for the night.
This morning I had arranged a training trip. Sadly one or two people couldn't make it, but Laura Hough and Lee Brady did. They helped me to pull the tree out of the water, then we set off for a return trip to Lumb Lane.
Neither Laura or Lee had steered a boat before, but both did very well, not only steering competently but managing the controls and quickly giving a chuck back every now and then to clear the blade of leaves and plastic bags. Laura winded the boat at Lumb Lane and Lee brought her alongside "Lilith" back at Portland Basin successfully. A good day.
The tree will eventually get recycled through our stoves to keep the boats warm.
The attractions of Blackpool mostly don't appeal to me and Em, but,
we've just spent a night there. We used to go to the theatre frequently
and would travel quite a way to see a play that interested us. However,
for the last few years of overwork, illness and lockdowns, we've got out
of the habit. We resolved to change this and, when Em spotted that
there was a play about the late great Spike Milligan on in Blackpool, we
had to go.
Em is not an early riser currently and always feels
ill until dinner time, so it was in the balance whether we would
actually make it until about 1pm. I spent the morning driving for the
WCBS shop as we're still struggling to get a volunteer delivery driver.
At about 1.30 she gave the go ahead and I booked a hotel room for the night.
It
were a day of proper Lancashire weather, steady rain. We travelled by
tram to Picadilly, then shiny new electric train to Blackpool North. Em
didn't feel up to the walk to the hotel, so we got a taxi. The driver
took us on a grand tour of Blackpool before arriving at the Arncliffe
Hotel, a mistake on his part as Em is normally a generous tipper.
We
weren't really looking for luxury on this trip, and, getting a double
room for £31 a night we weren't expecting it. The Arncliffe follows the
commercial philosophy of pile em high and sell em cheap. Certainly it
was the smallest double room I've ever stayed in, and not exactly
ergonomically designed. However, it was clean and, well, cheap. I tend
to find most hotel rooms to be overheated but the Arncliffe was saving
fossil fuels by leaving the heating off. I see this as laudable, but Em
was cold.
With our stuff stowed in the room we headed out into the
bright lights of Blackpool to track down some food. I was up for a
moderately posh restaurant, but Em spotted a Subway and said that was
what she wanted, so we enjoyed custom made sandwiches. Their coffee
machine was out of order, so, having eaten, we found a Costa Coffee
which had a rather hangdog air, like much of Blackpool. Bellies filled
and caffeined up , we went looking for the theatre, and walked right
past it.
After
retracing our steps a little we found it and joined the queue. Most of
its constituents were old enough to remember the Goon Show. It started before I was born and I was only a
child when it finished, not getting most of the jokes but enjoying the
wacky surrealism and funny voices.
Inside we found our
seats, and looked around us in amazement at the incredibly ornate
interior and painted ceiling. No expense spared by Victorian showmen.
The play was excellent, based around Spike's struggles with BBC management and his own mental health, well acted and extremely funny.
We returned to the hotel and slept well, though waking in the morning with aches and pains because the bed wasn't very comfortable.
After a good breakfast we checked out and went our separate ways. Em wanted to do some shopping then get an early train home as she was still feeling poorly. I wanted to get a tram to Fleetwood and explore the harbour.
The weather was better, even sunny at times, but a strong cold wind was blowing in from the Irish Sea.
I walked down to the promenade and looked at the rough sea before joining a tram for my ride. I can't go to Blackpool and not ride on a tram!
As I travelled along, looking out to sea, I could see distant wind turbines and a ferry from Heysham, heading for the Isle of Man.
I got off at the end of the line, Fleetwood Ferry.
I did think about taking the ferry to Knott End, but, looking across the estuary of the river Wyre, Knott End didn't look very exciting.
After having coffee in a riverside cafe I followed a footpath high above the muddy river. The tide was out, revealing endless grey mud. A group of chittering wading birds skimmed low over the water before landing on their selected bit of ooze.
The path took me past a derelict RoRo ferry terminal that used to have a service to the Isle of Man, but this ended in 2010.
Soon I was walking along the high stone and concrete river wall looking out over the melancholy beauty of mud flats.
A friend who used to keep a boat at Fleetwood gave me the impression that there was a thriving fishing community here. What I found was very different. A boat graveyard, mostly fishing boats, disappearing into the silt.
The fishing community turned out to be a collection of small boats in a fenced off area cluttered with fishing gear and old van bodies used as storage huts. How are the mighty fallen! This used to be the third biggest fishing port in Britain.
My old Ordnance Survey map showed an enclosed harbour. Across the mud was the entrance lock.
Rather than trawlers it now accommodates mostly yachts and the quays are thick with upmarket housing. There is still a fish processing industry though, an I've heard talk of the railway from Preston re-opening, though how it would enter the town I'm not sure.
I suppose I had seen the grim side of Fleetwood. Heading back into town I crossed a busy road, built on the trackbed of the old railway line, and found the main street. It was pretty busy, with only a few empty shops. There were many pleasant old houses.
I headed for the market, which is huge and busy. I like markets. It was now dinner time, so I looked for a suitable eatery. Across the road from the market was "The Eating House". A cosy little cafe that does pensioners specials. Actually, I don't think there were any non pensioners in there and there was nothing on offer that wasn't a pensioners special. I selected liver and onions which came in a generous portion with vegetables and mash and a coffee for just £5.50. I struck up a conversation with a pleasant couple, dining nearby, who were very involved with local charities. Together we bemoaned the difficulties of getting anyone to take on an organisational role nowadays.
I caught the tram back to Blackpool, a swish electric train to Manchester, then another tram, standing room only, to Ashton. When I got home, Em was in bed listening to an old Goon show, which she didn't find very funny.
It's an incredibly mild November. I suppose global warming must have the odd silver lining. "Forget me Not" is now running partly on HVO, a non fossil fuel, waste derived, alternative to mineral diesel fuel.
We had an airbnb booking. We're now doing a lot of these to bring in funds as our lottery funding has finished. To keep the Canal & Rivers Trust happy all Airbnb bookings have to go for a trip, whether they like it or not. This group were a family, two adults and 3 kids from Norwich visiting people in Manchester. They didn't really want a trip, but we arranged to take them through the Asda tunnel and back on Saturday morning. As usual, the kids loved the tunnel. They'd asked for the boat to be left at a nicer spot so, after they left, we towed "Hazel" to Dukinfield lift bridge and tied her there, then me and Aaron took "Forget me Not" to Jet Amber Fields to wind.
This turned out to be more of a struggle than I'd anticipated as the water was 6" down and new obstructions have been dumped in the lift bridge which we struggled to get through. The water was like leaf soup with the Autumn fall. At Jet Amber we found the winding hole partly blocked by the burned out remains of a fibreglass dinghy. On our return trip, passing the Warble moorings, the engine was stalled by a bulk bag full of leylandii offcuts, presumably dumped by a dodgy tree surgeon. As we struggled to untangle it someone on a moored boat told us it had been there for ages (so why didn't he pull it out?).
On Sunday, after the guests left, we repeated the trip with "Hazel" in tow. This was a training opportunity which was taken up by Patricia. Her partner Igor came too, but he is unable to participate at the moment as he's awaiting surgery on his legs.
Before attempting the lift bridge I had a go at clearing it using the keb. I pulled out a car seat and a safe that had been forced open before disposal.
There was plenty more rubbish that I was unable to remove.
We thrashed the pair through the bridge without too much trouble and carried on, the engine producing embarrassing amounts of black smoke as it coped with the leaves clogging the propeller.
Because of the sunken dinghy and low water we carried on past Jet Amber and winded at Hyde, which is easier. On the return trip Aaron steered the motor and dealt with various difficulties. including stemming up on the submerged remnants of a stone wall near Globe Bridge. We tied at the basin as the museum staff were locking up.
At Stalybridge there's a lot to be done to get the boatyard up and running again. The last couple of years of pandemics, my own health difficulties and the chronic lack of volunteers that so many charities have been struggling with have left it cluttered and overgrown.
Today Andrea came to help again, with her son James. They attacked the excessive foliage to open up part of the yard that had become almost inaccessible. In the process they built up a huge pile of brash that I hope will be transported away by boat and then incinerated in a Solstice celebration.
In the front garden we cleared some of the weeds and planted some new plants and lots of wild flower seeds.
I've been moaning about the state of the front garden at Knowl St Heritage Boatyard for ages, and lamenting the lack of volunteers to look after it. Today Andrea and Philip had a good go at cutting back the jungle. They won't be able to do it all that regularly as Andrea returns to work soon, but it's a start.
I visited my brother in Rugby for the first time post pandemic, travelling by train. After spending a night at Rugby with Merv, Sue and my nephew Graham I went by train to Kenilworth, to see my friend David Lee, with a change at Coventry. From Kenilworth, changing at Coventry on to Nuneaton to catch the Crewe service, and thence by a rattly Welsh class 150 on to Manchester and the tram to Ashton. A really pleasant weekend off. I took a couple of photos.
The Leamington - Coventry train arrives at Kenilworth.
A Cross Country Voyager waits to depart Coventry for Bournemouth as a Pendolino for Euston arrives in the backgound.
A couple of our volunteers have hired a boat from Portland Basin Marina. Their plan was to go up on to the upper Peak Forest and Macclesfield canals. That idea was scuppered because Marple locks closed through lack of water. This is partly because of the lack of rain, but mainly because there are two reservoirs that need repair. They then thought they'd go up the Huddersfield Narrow instead. Lack of water, exacerbated by so many leaky lock gates, caused this to close. Ok, they thought, we'll go down the Ashton and on to the Bridgewater.
They worked down the 18 locks of the Ashton canal, only to find that the Rochdale 9 was closed because of gate problems. they tried to go up the Rochdale instead, only to find that that was closed (lack of water, leaky gates). They headed back up the Ashton but got stuck part way up the locks because of a shopping trolley jammed behind a gate. CRT cleared this the next day and I saw them in Dukinfield where they live. They set off ahead of us to enjoy a few days between Ashton and Marple.
A couple who have supported "Hazel" for many years were given a weekend on "Hazel" as a wedding anniversary present. they wanted to go up the Huddersfield Narrow. Now that it's closed they've postponed until next Spring.
This is very frustrating. Apparently the Rochdale 9 is open again with a restriction to narrow beam boats only. I have a feeling that the network is starting to fall apart. I worry that the Canal & River Trust, who run the canals, are losing interest in navigation. To give them their due, the Ashton flight has improved no-end in recent years. There is, of course, a water supply problem this year, but a single badly leaking lock gate will hugely increase the water demand of a canal.
Rant over!
The only place that we can really go with our "Hazel" guests is along the lower Peak Forest as far as Marple Aqueduct. We've just done a trip for a very pleasant family from mid Cheshire. Patricia, Geraldine, Aaron and me took them yesterday as far as the winding hole at Gee Cross. We came back about half a mile to tie among lovely woods beside Apethorn Wood and Haughton Dale https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/visiting-woods/woods/haughton-dale/
I stayed aboard "Forget me Not". It rained all night and was a bit chilly so I lit the stove in the morning. Aaron arrived early on his bike.
When Geraldine arrived, by 'bus, we had a brew then set out on the return trip.
Our guests met some friends at Portland Basin and went for a look round the museum. They left a glowing report in "Hazel"s visitors book. A lot of people have been under a lot of stress over the last couple of years. It's nice to feel that you're doing a little bit to help.
Recently a volunteer asked me to supply a strimmer to tidy up the Heritage Boatyard. He was finding the amount of weed growth there offensive, I said no, which may seem strange to those who like their plants all lined up like soldiers. However, there's method in my madness.
When we took over the site some local residents objected that we would destroy the wildlife (they wanted to turn it into a car park). There was some merit in this argument as, since the demolition of the railway viaduct, it had been allowed to grow wild.
As we've worked on the area we've tried to do our best to provide some niches for wildlife. Around the edges are areas that we're not regularly using, though we have stuff stored there. These have been allowed to grow wild. Consequently, as we're working, we can enjoy the presence of birds, butterflies etc that would have no foothold in a clinically tidy environment.
Yesterday, whilst moving some recently arrived wood, Kim picked up a bucket that I'd been using to grow potatoes. Inside he found 3 toads, a big one and 2 small ones. I moved the bucket to another location and laid it on its side so that they could get out and carry on with their lives.
Strimmers are indiscriminate in their destruction. If toads or other small creatures happen to be in their path they will just become collateral damage.
