One of the best things about cruising the canals is mooring somewhere new and exploring the area. Perhaps there is a lovely country park. Perhaps there is a stately home. One of our moorings this week was right outside the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds.
I have been here before many years ago and I remember being excited to see the thousands of weapons held by the museum. It is a truly remarkable collection. And this week when I visited I felt some of the same excitement. I saw a presentation about the ancient Greeks and how they fought. I saw a special exhibition about decorated weapons, including a gold Kalashnikov produced by the Saudis. I tried on a helmet from a suit or armour with just a small slit for the eyes. It felt very claustrophobic.
I did enjoy my visit but this time I also felt a sense of unease. Maybe it is just because I am getting old, but I was very aware that all these weapons had been produced not for exhibit but to kill and maim human beings. The museum is aware of this and even provides a quiet room you can go to if you get upset. I was certainly surprised at my own reaction. It reminded me of what is happening in Ukraine and Gaza right now.
I think as you get older, your sense of the value of life increases. And this has made me sad. Is that stupid?
Most of the time as narrowboaters we are “ditch dwellers”. The canals we navigate are surprisingly shallow – say three to four feet deep . So if you fall in you can just stand up and you will normally be fine. For this reason we do not wear life jackets on the canals. But rivers are something more challenging.
Liverpool docks this year
Rivers are more dangerous because they have a current, may have a tide, and can be much deeper. They are also unpredictable. For instance flat bottomed narrowboats do not have much protection against strong lateral gusts of wind.
So on rivers we do usually wear light life jackets that would automatically inflate if we fell in the water. Unfortunately I found out this week that they might not work. I read an article on a boaters’ update that told me that the water detector has a relatively short life of just a few years and then need replacing. I also discovered that they can set themselves off where there is condensation in the air over winter.
So I checked our life jackets and found that both water detectors were out of date, and one also needed a new compressed gas bottle.
The good news is that replacing these is neither difficult or expensive, but it was still quite a shock to find that things we were confidently thinking could save our lives may well have failed when we needed them.
We have been boating for many many years but we are very much still learning. Every day is a school day, and this lesson could well save a life.
One of our favourite places on the UK canal network are the “curly wurlys” near East Marton on the Leeds Liverpool Canal. The canal winds around many hillsides, following the contours, so it takes forever to get a small distance, but with fine views in all directions across the Yorkshire Dales it is very beautiful. This week we moored up for a couple of days on an isolated stretch here, where we could enjoy the countryside and chill out.
Just before the curly wurlys we passed through this double bridge, famous to narrowboaters, There is many a furrowed brow as people try to work out why two bridges are needed. Perhaps the tall bridge was collapsing in on itself and needed bracing with the lower arch? Perhaps the lower bridge once carried pedestrians at the same time as vehicles travelled across the top?
The truth is sadly more boring. The lower bridge is the original and in the 1790s was used for packhorses crossing the Pennines. When the main road was built (now the A59) the engineers built it on an embankment to cross this part of Lancashire , and so needed the bridge to be higher. The cheapest way was simply to build on top of the existing structure.
It is typical of our narrowboat journey that in a few days we can go from industrial town to beautiful nature, with a bit of history to make it even more interesting. Are you just a little jealous?
I remember I loved being ten. My dad took me to London and we went around the science and natural history museums. I wanted to be grown up.
Being twenty was even better. I was at Imperial College (near those museums by coincidence). I was station manager of the university radio station and was sure my future lay in the BBC. I felt very grown up.
My thirtieth birthday was in the Netherlands. I was working in IT for a company called Logica. We were about to return to the UK after a four year secondment. It had been an amazing adventure, living abroad, learning a new language and a different culture. I was married to Mandy and we had two boys, then aged four and five. I was definitely grown up.
I did not like my fortieth. We were living in Yorkshire and I was working for the Halifax Bank of Scotland. I loved my job and my family but I did not like the idea of being forty. In my head I was in my thirties. I had a convertible BMW to prove it! I might be grown up but I still felt young.
Fifty was a much better birthday. Work was a bit tricky since I was between roles, but the boys had left home and with Mandy we were enjoying our prime. I felt very happily middle aged.
Sixty is even better. I love having a bus pass and getting discounts. Life as a retiree is better than I could have imagined. And I am still fit enough to do the things I always wanted, such as living on a narrowboat and spending a month interrailing. I may be old but I am certainly not grown up.
We have spent the week travelling the Leeds and Liverpool canal across West Lancashire, finishing up in Reedley Marina, near Burnley. We have moored in a marina because it is a safe place to leave the boat while we spend ten days back up in Scotland. Despite spending more than half the year living on our narrowboat, we still own a house for the winter months and have returned to get a few jobs done. I have a dental appointment, a blood test and a big birthday to celebrate.
Narrowboat Thuis in Reedley Marins
Arriving back at the house has made me think of the five things I prefer, living in bricks and mortar to on the water:
1. A house is so much bigger. On a boat we have to think carefully before acquiring anything because the space is so limited
2. Our house has a bath. The shower on the boat is great and after a day’s boating the water is toasty warm, but I do like a long soak in the evening.
3. When things break it is usually less catastrophic. There are things I need to fix around the house but they are not critical. When I reversed the narrowboat into a wall this week, the rudder was knocked from the “cup” it sits in and the whole boat became unsteerable. Fortunately my son Martin was with us, and jumped into the canal to reseat it.
4. We have a car in the drive. When we are on our long cruises we don’t use our car because it is simply too difficult to keep moving the car to be near the boat. This may be better for the environment, but it does make things more difficult when we need to get anywhere away from the canal.
5. The full fibre broadband to our house is super fast. We do like to have fast internet, for browsing or streaming. On the boat we have three different mobile networks on our phones and the wifi router to try to make sure we have good access, but sometimes in cuttings and out of town, it can be a problem.
There are also good reasons that living on a narrowboat is better than living in a house.
1. Life on a boat is simpler. We don’t have so much “stuff” and we have learnt that we don’t need it. We shop locally. We talk about simple things such as where we are going tomorrow, and what to have for tea.
2. The views are stunning. Our house is on a Main Street with road noise. Our boat can be in a different mooring every day, Last week we passed through some pretty run down industrial canals in Blackburn and Burnley, but we still found one of the prettiest moorings between the two towns, on an embankment, next to a golf course, with incredible views across to the Pennines.
3. Exercise is part of our lives. We don’t have to think about needing to go to the gym or for a run. After 21 locks, we are pretty exhausted and it feels good.
4. The dogs are more settled. Lulu in particular, runs around the house sniffing at walls and barking at pigeons. On the boat she just jumps onto the sofa next to Mandy, and cuddles.
5. The community on the canals and rivers is more friendly. We have good neighbours in Scotland, but travelling along, locking together or just meeting people on the towpath, everyone wants to help, everyone has a story to tell. By nature I am pretty antisocial, but not when we are on the boat.
I guess we are very lucky to have the house and a narrowboat. But if I had to choose, I would choose living on a boat. It is a good life.
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