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.
When the Dutton Dry Dock Co donated their Land Rover we stopped our Go fund Me appeal for a van and said we'd spend the money so far raised on trailers for it to tow. The first one was a box trailer for deliveries and collections for the shop. The price of trailers suddenly went through the roof and we had to go all the way to Kent to get a reasonable deal on a box trailer.
Some people thought they might be able to repair the old van, but, really it wasn't going to happen. The rust had eaten too far into the bodywork. We needed the space at the boatyard for the second trailer. This is a big sturdy plant trailer, in need of some TLC, obtained from Portland Basin Marina. The old van went via Car Take back.
Stephan got to work on the plant trailer, stripping away loose bits to get it ready for its first job, transporting a little cruiser called "Miss Maggie" from Lymm to the River Ouse , a few miles downstream of York.
The boat was one of several abandoned boats donated by the Bridgewater Canal during the winter which we sold via Ebay. This helped to see us through the winter lockdowns. Many thanks to Paul and Lynnette of the Dutton Dry Dock Co for arranging it. The difficulty was that it needed to go on a long journey to meet it's new owners, Amanda and James. This was difficult with no suitable trailer and the inhibitions of a third lockdown.
I set off to collect the boat with the Land Rover, plant trailer and two outboards, a little air cooled one and a vintage Seagull. I tried the air cooled one first but, though it started easily, it would immediately cut out. I tried the Seagull, but the transom was too thin for it's clamp. I inserted a piece of wood to make up the gap, tightened the screw and spun the engine. It started first pull.
I had about 3 miles to go along the Bridgewater canal. My difficulty was that the engine had a short tiller. If I sat down to steer I couldn't see where I was going. I stood up and briefly let go of the tiller while I tried to work out how to solve this problem. The engine note changed and I looked down in horror as the Seagull leaped off the transom and disappeared into the middle of the canal, leaving "Miss Maggie" to drift into the brambles.
I refitted the air cooled engine and tried to start it. After a while I realised that it would only run if I fixed the throttle on to full power. It would not tick over. Luckily, full power was not very powerful. I slowly proceeded through the centre of Lymm, standing up and steering with my foot. The arrival at Hesfords boatyard was not very elegant as I had to aim the boat, cut the engine at just the right moment, then leap off with a line before it drifted away again.
I backed the trailer into the water and guided the boat on to it. One of the boatyard workers told me what a nicely kept boat it was just a few years ago. I don't know why it was abandoned, but my guess is that its loving owner died and their relatives either didn't know or didn't care about the boat.
The boat fitted snugly.
I drove home and parked outside our house, much to the surprise of the neighbours.
Next morning I set off over the Pennines with the boat in tow. I'd no idea how long it would take and wanted to leave a bit of time in hand in case of problems en route. I'd told the buyers 11AM. My only problem was that. with the weight being so far back, the trailer had a tendency to start weaving on downhill bits of motorway unless I was quite careful. I got to the pleasant riverside village of Acaster Malbis at 09.25, so I decided to take a walk along the river bank. When James and Amanda arrived in a big white minibus they asked me to follow them along a rough riverside track. At the far end was a slipway with not a lot of maneuvering room to line a trailer up to it. I drove into the long grass and got out to survey the situation, only to find that a man was shouting from the far side of the river, threatening to call the police if we launched there.
After a quick conference the decision was made to go to another slipway. Amanda and James walked back to their minibus and I backed towards the water prior to making a tricky turn between high banks back on to the track. The angry man crossed the river in a dinghy and became quite friendly, almost apologetic.
The alternative slipway was about a mile downstream. It was wide and concrete with useful stagings each side. I handed James a line to hold so that the boat wouldn't drift away and backed in. The engine was fitted and, after a few anxious attempts, it started and ran. With no clutch or reverse gear the fact hat we were facing into the slip was a bit inconvenient but, with James' help we got facing the right way and set off. Amanda came for her first ride in the boat while James drove the 'bus up to the mooring. On arrival we were greeted by their friends on a steel narrowboat on the next pontoon.
After posing for photographs
we enjoyed refreshments from the minibus and, after much chat, James gave me a lift back to the slipway and I headed for home.
I decided to visit the nearby town of Tadcaster. This is a pleasant and rather affluent looking town roughly half way between Leeds and York. It's the head of navigation on the River Wharfe and also the source of some rather nice beer. The river under the bridge was shallow and there's no sign of boats ever actually visiting Tadcaster, even though Harold Godweinson assembled his fleet there prior to the battle of Stamford Bridge. To be fair, that was a long time ago.
Crossing the bridge I noticed someone in faux highwayman's garb prancing about on the flood embankment just upstream followed by TV cameras. After an interview he began serving drinks from a makeshift bar, behind a notice that said "No Rules".
I walked further upstream along the flood bank towards this wonderful weir.
The impressive railway viaduct in the distance was built in 1848 for a railway that was never completed because of the collapse of 'Railway King' George Hudson's shaky empire. It did later carry a siding for a flour mill, closed in 1950, but now just carries a cycle path. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leeds_and_York_Railway
Now here's a project for my WRGie friends. The River Wharfe beyond the weir looks wonderful. How about building a lock to get boats up there!
From Tadcaster I got on to the M1, but left it near Wakefield to pursue a direct course via Holmfirth and over the lovely high moorland. At the Heritage Boatyard I shuffled trailers so that the box trailer was coupled to the Land Rover ready for shop use, then went home.
Amanda and James run a charity called the Open Nest which gives holidays for fostered and adopted children. They intend to use "Miss Maggie" to give the kids trips on the river.
When I was charging "Hazel"s batteries I noticed that the charging light was dimmer than usual. In the morning I was disappointed to find that the batteries hadn't fully charged. Luckily there was enough charge for our weekend guests and it has been sunny so the solar panels have been working well.
I thought the problem might be bad connections so I checked and tightened them all. I tried charging again, with no luck. It was looking like a fault in the charger.
I rang Exegon, the company that made the huge great yellow box that charges "Hazel"s big bank of AGM batteries. As soon as I explained the symptoms Gary the technical bod knew what was wrong. I was concerned about the task of getting the thing to their works in Melksham for repair. It's weight is close to my Safe Working Load. Gary explained to me how to remove the circuit board so that I could post it to him.
When I opened it up I found the innards were nothing like what Gary had described. However, I found what looked like the circuit board, quickly packaged it up and had it in the post about 10 this morning.
Meanwhile we have another bunch of guests on the boat. The batteries will be pretty depleted by the time they leave. Fingers crossed that we get it back quickly.
Aaron shafting "Hazel" back from the charging point.
It's bank holiday Monday evening and I'm staying on board "Hazel" tonight to get her batteries fully charged ready for her first guests of the year. It's an airbnb booking so not her proper work, but it helps to subsidise the well being work. We've applied for some grant funding. If we get that we can cut down on airbnb's so that more of the people who really need it can enjoy time on "Hazel".
We charge the batteries at the garage of Dixon & Smith, Motor Engineers, in Dukinfield, who kindly let us plug in. It's an easy job to shaft her across the aqueduct and tie on the outside beside their garage. It can get interesting in windy weather though. Tonight is a little breezy but very sunny. A lovely summer's evening with doves cooing, other birds twittering, occasional trains passing and the constant murmur of walkers chatting on the towpath.
For many years Dixon & Smith used their great skills and ingenuity to keep my succession of old Ladas running, then the WCBS tormented them with a series of old vans. Now they are semi retired and, though they still do some paid work, spend much of their time working on their own vehicles, which include motorcycles and two beautifully restored 1950s American pickups.
I'm staying in "Hazel"s back cabin. The conversion is all cleaned and sanctified ready for our guests. The back cabin is in some disarray because its winter overhaul is not yet finished. I like staying in here anyway, especially in Winter when I have the range alight to keep me snug and boil my kettle. Too hot for that tonight so I have a flask.
Can't wait to get boating again. It's been a long winter.
Today Aaron and Nessie brought "Forget me Not" and "Hazel" back from their time under the motorway bridge to Portland Basin.
The first thing was to go to Lumb Lane to wind. Aaron steered the motor.
On the way we passed this lovely conker tree that we planted a few years ago (do kids play conkers any more)?
There was a bit of water bird agro as we passed a woman and her child feeding the swans from a bag. A goose climbed out on to the towpath and tried to grab the bag, which fell to the ground and spilled its contents. The swan was not happy and chased away the goose together with its wife and children.
Now they are back at the basin we have to get them cleaned up and ready to go back into service. Any volunteers?
I'm currently not too well with long haul covid, but I took the time today to visit a volunteer called 'Nessie' who's doing some repairs on 'Hazel'. I wanted to see how he was coping without much help during the lockdown.
Nessie told me that over the past few days he's been preparing boards for Hazel's roof using a planer thicknesser. The wood came from some Leylandii trees he got from a friend's garden. When the boards are planed to the right thickness they are bent with g clamps. When they are released they'll 'remember' some of the bend and will fit on a curved roof.
Nessie likes to tell me what he's doing in fine detail, so I was down there a little longer than I anticipated. It's great though when you meet someone who takes so much pride in his work and does a really good job. Some people are just like that!
If you're new to this blog you might not have seen my GoFundMe page. It's the first time I've done this sort of thing. It's for a good cause, namely to buy us a new van because the old one has broken down for good. We can't manage without a van, either at the charity shop or the boatyard. If you can spare a few quid then THANK YOU!
At last we've got away from Ashton for a few days with "Forget me Not" and "Hazel". We're running the trip with the crew socially distanced from each other and from the guests. Me and Aaron are in for the whole trip, with a back cabin each. Other people come and go as they can to help us through the locks and lift bridges.
The water level was low and we struggled to get clear of Tameside. Dunkirk bridge and Captain Jack's moorings were particularly bad. I was very pleased to see that the long promised dredging has started though, even if we did have a hard time getting past the dredger. The mud is being unloaded at Warble boatyard.
It was a lovely afternoon as we swung the pair round the tight turns at Gee Cross,
Towards Woodley there were some very odd ducks. Are they Grebe? Any ornithologists reading this?
Today we worked up Marple locks. Liz, Peter and Kim came to help. Tomorrow we're on to Bugsworth. Darren is coming to help. More crew needed for the return trip.
We've had a very pleasant couple from Worksop staying on "Hazel" for a week and they booked a trip up the Peak Forest. We went up to Marple on Friday, a glorious summers day, winded and returned as far as Chadkirk. The crew were me, Aaron, Liz and Darren. We all wore masks whenever we had to come close to each other, maintained strict separation from our guests and sanitised the tiller etc when we changed steerers.
Aaron, Liz and Darren cycled home once we had tied for the night. I stayed aboard "Forget me Not". The crew returned for a 2pm departure on Saturday to bring the pair back to Portland Basin. Liz's husband Pete came too.The weather wasn't quite as good but still an enjoyable trip.
I woke up late this morning and, as I lay in bed enjoying my first coffee, the radio started broadcasting the Sunday Service. If I’m still listening at this point I normally switch off. This morning I was a bit slow to move so I caught the vicar’s opening words which, unusually, resonated with me.
She said “God wants us to bless the communities in which we live and work”.
I switched off part way through “Bread of Heaven”.
Nothing Earth shattering about what the vicar said, but it got me thinking. As it happened, I was thinking about the oak trees that I’ve planted over the years at the time. That is a way of blessing the community that I live in. Of course, I derive some personal pleasure from it. The trees I planted 30 years ago are now grown up and, with the help of the Jays, spreading their acorns each autumn to begin more trees. I love to see this, and I love to check on the younger trees and imagine the beautiful woodland that they will form.
They will provide homes for countless creatures and spiritual uplift for people who walk amongst them. They will also sequester carbon from the atmosphere, much needed on our overheating planet and, perhaps, eventually, provide timber for a future generation of wooden boatbuilders.
Of course, I won’t see most of this. The best I can hope for is to view the adolescent oaks in 30 years time from my wheelchair. This is my way of blessing the community where I live and work.
A few days ago one of my friends posted on Facebook “What’s the point”? A more complicated question than it appears. The ruling idea in Western culture is that the only point is personal gratification. Liberals have an idea of enlightened self interest, where pusuing your own personal gratification has the happy spin off of benefitting others. Sometimes it does, but, often, the pure pursuit of personal gratification really benefits no-one, including oneself. I think of the Simon & Garfunkel song “Richard Cory” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euuCiSY0qYs
Interestingly, when the self interest of a political leader, normally backed by that of the owners of the military industrial complex of whatever nation or political bloc, require us to go to war, then the self interest of ordinary people is thrown out of the window. Young men (and women nowadays) have to sacrifice themselves for the ‘greater good’ and their parents, spouses and lovers have to grin and bear their losses whilst working all hours to keep the production lines running to supply more military hardware.
So, where does religion come into this. As a child I rejected the Christianity that I was born into because, despite including the commandment “Thou shalt not kill” it’s leaders clearly condoned warfare. It was also, in my mind, associated with a hypocritical establishment and seemed to be offering a promise of everlasting life that was a claim that could not be substantiated.
re hypocrisy- Malcolm Muggeridge, for all his holier than thou ness was a serial philanderer, Bishop Mervyn Stockwood was a closet gay.
Despite this, I’ve always had a sense of there being something more than the here and now. The idea that we are more than mere mechanical creatures and contain a spirit that lives on when our bodies die. That does not necessarily mean that our consciousness lives on.
In trying to understand this I’ve worked my way through paganism and pantheism, finally (perhaps) arriving at Panentheism. This is the idea that there is a deity that is within every atom of the cosmos, including each of us, and beyond. That includes before the big bang and after whatever finally happens to the universe. It is what I call The Great Spirit, but others may call God, Allah, Rama or whatever. I have a spirit, you have a spirit, everyone has a spirit. They are sparks that have come from the great spirit and will ultimately return to it, only to be sparked off it again to inhabit another being.
We can choose to grow our spirits by living in a way that brings joy and growth to others, or we can choose to diminish our spirits by living selfishly, concerned only with our own short term gratification. If you’re looking for enlightened self interest it lies in the true joy that this brings, so much greater than the brief enjoyment of owning things or experiencing physical sensations.
My way of communing (for want of a better word, the English language is reaching its limits here) with the Great Spirit is through the Latihan, a spiritual exercise organised by an organisation called Subud. Each Latihan is a unique 30 minute session of a spiritual experience that I cannot describe, words fail me. While I call myself a Panentheist, others, beside me in the Latihan, may call themselves Muslim, Jew, Christian, Buddhist etc etc. It really doesn’t matter.
It’s a great shame that so few people know (or care?) about this.
