Tag: boat

What do you need if you have an empty pound?

On a canal, the length of water between two locks is called a “pound”. On a lock flight this might be three or four boat lengths long. Sometimes it might be shorter. There is a pound on the Staffs & Worcester canal that is just a few feet long (there is a side pound where all the water goes when you empty the top lock). There are “long pounds” on canals that are very flat. For instance last week we had a forty mile pound on the Bridgewater.

Once or twice a year we find a pound is empty. Last year there was a mile long empty pound near Gloucester after a hire boater went through the bottom lock one evening and left all the paddles up. The year before we grounded in a pound overnight on the Aylesbury canal because of leaky lock gates. This week we have faced three separate empty pounds. The first was about a mile long in Wigan, caused by vandals. The second was about half a mile on the Rufford arm, caused by a lazy boater leaving paddles up. The third was a short planned “dewatering” by the Canal & River Trust (CRT) in order to inspect blocked culverts.

So what do you need when faced by an empty pound? The first and most obvious thing is a lot of water. Somehow you need to fill the canal back up to at least four feet in depth. If you think the canal is maybe twenty feet wide, and the pound is maybe half a mile long, that is an awful lot of water. You have to bring that water down from higher in the canal, maybe using bywaters that go around some locks, and sometimes by opening paddles on the locks themselves.

The second thing you need is time. You need to fill that water without draining the pounds higher up. For this reason, CRT prefer the work to be done by their staff rather than boaters. A short pound may take just an hour or two to fill, but the Wigan and Rufford problems this week took a day each.

The third thing you may need is special equipment. On our boat we carry a windlass to open lock paddles, a CRT key to open water points and swing bridges, and an anti-vandal key to open the handcuff locks used to prevent bad people causing trouble. CRT staff can remove other padlocks and open special paddles to let in water from other sources such as rivers and reservoirs. Again this has to be done very carefully to prevent flooding.

By far the most important thing you need is patience. There is no point getting cross about what has happened. It won’t help. There is no point trying to get through before the water has fully filled, because you will get stuck. Instead, we just wait it out, and look for the best. In Wigan I found a nice local butcher that I would have missed. In Rufford we just moored up and watched a couple of films.

If you are in a hurry on a narrowboat, you have chosen the wrong lifestyle. We are lucky enough to be retired. For us, narrowboating is not just about the wonderful places we go. It is about the journey to get there – however long that takes.

0

Why don’t black people drive narrowboats?

As a privileged white man I may be on dangerous ground asking this question but I really don’t understand why there aren’t more black and Asian people on the canals.

On the Bridgewater Canal this week

Narrowboating is a pretty inclusive pastime. In general there is a great deal of diversity. We meet really rich people and incredibly poor. There are probably equal numbers of men and women (even if some of the men are dinosaurs). There are probably more LBGTQ people on the canal network than in “real life”. Narrowboats are not normally designed for wheelchairs, but there are charities all over the country who have converted boats and arrange boating holidays and trips for people with all kinds of disability.

So why is it so white?

I am guessing it is simply a self fulfilling prophesy. People of colour see only white people on boats and so it is not something they consider as something for them.

So all I can do is to keep talking to the people I meet on the towpath and sell why I think narrowboating is for everyone. We have a great community of boaters here in the UK and it would be even better if it were not just white.

0

What is it like to be on a boat for six months?

And we’re off! We have made several short trips already this year, but this week we set off on our narrowboat for the next six months. This is our fourth year since retirement and our fourth year of boating all summer. The first year was in the North of England, the second in the South. Last year we travelled the westerly canals and rivers – Shropshire Union, Llangollen, Montgomery, Trent and Mersey, Macclesfield, Peak Forest, Staffordshire and Worcester, River Severn, Gloucester and Sharpness, River Avon, Stratford, Birmingham and Fazeley, Coventry and Ashby canals.

The obvious thing would be to head east this year, but the canal network is not so good on that side of the country so we have decided to complete a few more of the canals we have not travelled before, while picking up some of our “greatest hits”.

This week we journeyed up from our winter base in Stone, through the very long Harecastle Tunnel, and down 25 locks of heartbreak hill in a day. We are now travelling through the very flat and very beautiful Cheshire Plain. Over the next six months we plan to moor in Liverpool docks, cross the Pennines on the curly wurlys, travel through the Happy Valley, revisit the history of Bugsworth Basin and maybe go on a steam train next to the Caldon Canal. From there our plans are more fluid and that is part of the adventure.

People often ask us how we cope living in such a confined space for six months. Sometimes we see hire boaters having massive rows as they are not used to being on top of each other even for a week. But Mandy, the dogs and I have found our happy rhythm. We don’t try to go too far each day. We empathise when someone makes a mistake driving the boat – we all do it. I am happy for Mandy to sit in a quiet corner doing her cross stitch. She is happy for me to dash off to find a stately home or a roman fort.

I think we are very privileged to enjoy this life and am really looking forward to the next six months. I love retirement.

0

The best time of year to get a quiet mooring

We stayed this week at Tixall Wide. This is one of the loveliest moorings on the British canal network. Most canals are just wide enough for two boats to pass. Digging more would have been a waste of money. But when the Staffordshire and Worcester Canal was built, a rich landowner, Thomas Clifford, would only let the canal cross his land if it was dug to look like a lake, fitting in with his gardens that had recently been developed by famous gardener Capability Brown.

Narrowboat Thuis moored in Tixall Wide this week

Tixall Wide is really very beautiful and because of that gets very full. During peak season you need to arrive in the morning or you stand little chance of getting a space to moor. Even in the winter it is pretty full because it is a good place to wait out the cold weather, in walking distance of Great Haywood junction where you can get water and a bit of shopping.

But this time of year is the best to get a great mooring. Most of the winter moorers have moved on or are in marinas, and the hire boat season has not yet started. We were extra lucky this year because Tixall Wide had work done on a drainage culvert over winter, and so was not open to anyone. So this week we were moored with just three other boats. It was wonderfully quiet, and properly dark at night, with no light pollution. The moon and stars seemed so bright.

It is the earliest in the year that we have been travelling on the narrowboat since I retired and in all honesty, it is a little too cold and wet when steering the boat. In a few weeks it will be warmer and more civilised. But the big benefit is the peace. And when we are sitting in the boat with the stove keeping us toasty warm, it is a lovely place to be.

0

First boat trip of the year discovers first problems

We have been staying on our narrowboat this week, in a marina in Staffordshire. On the way down, Mandy asked me not to rush taking the boat out on a trip. In particular she did not want to travel when it is wet and windy. I know she is right. Our trip should be relaxing and fun, not a miserable chore. But I have to admit that I have just been itching to get behind the tiller. So I was delighted on Monday to wake up to a bright sunny day, and we set off south towards Great Haywood.

It was a crisp cold morning and as you can see in the picture, the ice sparkled on our newly painted roof. This was a chance to enjoy ourselves, and it was lovely to be back travelling at 3mph. Our first trip out is also an opportunity to check out everything still works. The good news was that the work done over the winter seems to have been successful. The bad news was that the battery charging warning light would not go off. This is a potentially big problem because we have brand new batteries, and if we let them lose too much charge, they will become useless.

Normally I would try to diagnose the problem using a “Victron” app on my phone, which can monitor the state of charge of the batteries and what power is going in and out. Unfortunately the app was not working either. I did some checks to make sure there was not a critical problem, like the engine belt failing, and we decided we needed to return to base. In a boat you cannot just turn around. You need to keep going until you can find a winding hole with space to turn the boat. In retrospect this was a good thing because we did get to enjoy travelling all day, including four locks to start rebuilding my windlass muscles for the season.

Overnight I managed to reset my electrical devices so that the app worked again, and the following morning our friendly engineer found a wire off on the alternator. He also fixed a long-standing leak we have had on the water tank overflow.

So all in all a good result. We have had a nice day out, checked everything is ready on the boat, and fixed some problems which is always satisfying. We need to pop back to Scotland next week but I really want to be boating. We just need a little more sun!

0

What is it like to stay on a boat that does not move?

From March to October we are continuous cruisers on our narrowboat. We travel around the country seeing new places and meeting new people – having new adventures. We are already planning our first trip for this year, probably heading up to Liverpool and then crossing the Pennines to Leeds. I am excited at the thought and this week I made a boat improvement that will help – a map on the fridge.

We had the kitchen upgraded before last season and we have been very happy with it. The one thing we did not like was the white fridge, which did not look quite right. So I had a vinyl “wrap” made of the canal network and have put that on the door. Now, not only does the kitchen look better, but we can easily show visitors where we have travelled and where we are heading.

This is an example of the sorts of “jobs” I tend to do over winter, when the boat is moored in a marina. The experience of staying on a boat when it is not moving is different from our summer adventures. We are not seeing new places every day, and we are not enjoying the loneliness of staying overnight somewhere away from everyone. But there are advantages too.

The marina has plenty of facilities including electricity and water on the pontoon, toilets, showers, pump out, and even its own pub. We also have access to our car so I can easily get to shops or go to see people. I also really love the cold weather. Gongoozelers (non boaters) often ask if the boat is too cold in the winter. The answer is absolutely not. We have central heating from a diesel boiler, and a “bubble stove” that easily heats the small airspace in the narrowboat. Last night for instance was icy cold outside, but Mandy and I were in our T shirts and had to turn the stove off because it was over 24°C in the boat.

It is cold in the mornings because we tend not to have the heating on overnight, but it is cozy warm in our bed, and the boat doesn’t take too long to warm up. I also really love getting up to take the dogs for their first walk, and seeing the early morning sun glinting off the frost and ice on the boats in the marina. It is very beautiful.

Staying on a boat that does not move is a different experience than our summer adventures. But it has its own charms. I am just so happy to be back on the boat.

0

Same boat, same name, so what is the problem?

There is a great deal of tradition around owning a boat. There are obscure terms for parts of the boat that we use every day such as gunwhale, tiller, cratch. There are arguments between boaters about whether we should call the sides of the boat port, starboard, sterm, prow or left, right, back, pointy bit. Often posts on narrowboat social media groups start with “I have been boating for 40 years and…”. One of the most contentious traditions is what you should do when you rename a boat.

This tradition goes back hundreds of years to the days of ocean going ships driven by sail. These were dangerous times and many a superstition was followed to protect the boat from storms, becalming or sinking. One of these was that if you renamed a boat without permission from the sea Gods, you would have many years of bad luck.

There are two ways of avoiding this bad luck. One is to rename the boat while it is out of the water. Many narrowboaters do this at the same time as they are having maintenance such as blacking the bottom of the boat. The alternative is to ask permission from Poseidon (Greek God of Seas and Storms).

And so, when we bought our narrowboat five years ago, we destroyed all traces of the old name (“Boblin” after its owners Bob and Lynne). We then engraved the old name onto a piece of metal and threw it into the waters to discard the name. Finally we walked around the boat pouring Prosecco onto the sides as I chanted a request to Poseidon to grant us our new name “Thuis”.

All this ceremony must have worked because we have had good luck with the boat and five very happy years travelling on it.

This winter we have had the roof and front repainted and as part of that the names were removed from the front panels on the boat. This week I have been back, setting up for the season and putting new name panels on the front of the boat. I decided that no ceremony was necessary because the boat name is not changing, and there are a number of documents on board which show it is called “Thuis”

But just in case…

Oh mighty and great ruler of the seas and oceans, to whom all ships and we who venture upon your vast domain are required to pay homage, I implore you in your graciousness to take unto your records and recollection this worthy vessel hereafter and for all time known as Thuis, guarding her with your mighty arm and trident and ensuring her of safe and rapid passage throughout her journeys within your realm.

That should work!

0

Itching to get back on the boat

Well that was nice. We had a wonderful Christmas and New Year. But the festivities are over. The decorations are coming down today. I’m on boring but healthy eating and Dry January. The couple of days of snow have turned into grey rain. Time to start looking forward to this year’s adventures, and that starts with the narrowboat.

At the moment many of the canals are closed as the Canal and River Trust do their winter works. We probably won’t be able to set off on our long summer trip until March. But we are missing the boat and it is sitting in Staffordshire waiting for us. The engine is serviced, the cooolant replaced, the central heating leak is fixed. The bottom is blacked with bitumen and has new sacrificial anodes. And the roof has ben stripped down and repainted. So it is ready for visitors in its marina.

Next week I plan to go down and get it set up. During the winter we take off linen, crockery, foodstuffs so they need sorting out. The water tank needs bleaching with Milton. The fuel tank needs topping up. The heating systems need checking. And there are some bits and pieces of DIY to do.

Then for Mandy’s birthday towards the end of January, we plan to spend a week or two on the boat. We may not be moving yet, but it will still feel like coming home. There is something about being on a narrowboat that we just find relaxing.

I can’t wait.

0

Should I take a Scottish Ferry in a storm?

As I write this, storm Babet is arriving in Scotland where I live. It is forecast to bring unprecedented levels of rain, falling onto already saturated ground. When the last storm came, two weeks ago, it broke through part of our roof and through the kitchen ceiling. That has not been fixed yet and so we have buckets at the ready. This time, we are on the edge of an amber warning for rain and wind, and just a few miles away is a red warning, meaning likely loss of life. It would be tempting to hunker down and wait, but on Saturday morning we are planning to drive up to the Isle of Skye to get a ferry across to the Outer Hebrides where we will be living for the next month.

The big question is whether we should postpone for a few days till the weather calms down. The Outer Hebrides are off the Northwest coast of Scotland, and while they have some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, they are also famously wild and windy, exposed to the Atlantic Ocean. The crossing is likely to be pretty bumpy.

There are three reasons I think we should go ahead. We are fairly seasoned travellers. A few years ago we took a ferry across the Bay of Biscay in a storm. Pretty much everyone took to their cabins as the ship rocked from side to side, bow to stern. Even many of the staff were feeling unwell. But my son and I stayed up, had a couple of drinks and watched a Fast and Furious film.

Secondly the ferry company Caledonian MacBrayne has not yet issued a warning on this crossing. Many of the ferries on the east coast of Scotland have already been cancelled but so far, the west is looking rough but passable.

And thirdly it will be an adventure. We spent a month in Orkney a couple of years ago, and one of the things I enjoyed most was watching the weather change from sunshine to storm in the blink of an eye. When we finally get to our cottage this Saturday night, we can light a fire, cook something warming and hunker down.

One thing I am nervous about is whether there will be a storm during our return trip towards the end of November. The port of Uig in Skye will be closed at that point, so instead of a two hour ferry, it will be five hours across the open sea to Ullapool. I am hoping for sunshine.

0

Is every day the same on a narrowboat?

One question we often get asked by non-boaters is whether we get bored because every day is just the same. The answer is that we never get bored because every day is different. We learn something new each day. We see something new each day. Let’s look at this week as an example.

Last Friday, we travelled from Penkridge to Compton, an unusually long day for us – about seven hours cruising. Despite going through the middle of Wolverhampton in the West Midlands, this is a pretty canal. It is one of the earliest, built by a chap named James Brindley and opened in 1772, and uses the contours of the land rather than cutting through hills and using locks to go up and down. Near Compton I found this pretty Victorian arts and crafts house to visit.

On Saturday, we stayed in Compton for a lazy day. I found a nice long walk for the dogs – along the canal, across countryside and back again along this disused railway line. Fascinating to imagine the heavy steam trains, the grime and dirt. It was a hot day and in the afternoon we found a country park where the dogs could swim. Pizza for team and a film.

On Sunday, it was back on our journey south. A boat coming the other way warned us that a boat club was ahead of us. Fifteen boats were waiting to go down Bratch Locks. This is a bit of a bottleneck on the canal, because three locks are next to each other, so they allow three boats to go down and then three come up. This means if you are boat four, you will wait around an hour before you can go. If you are boat fifteen, you could be waiting several hours. Fortunately by the time we got there the queue had reduced and we were only held up for around forty minutes. Bratch Locks are fascinating. They were built by Brindley as a staircase, where the top gates of one lock form the bottom gates of the next one. But this used too much water, so around 1820 they were converted to individual locks with about a meter of canal between each lock, and side ponds to hold the water. I have never seen anything like them, and as you can see in the photo, the rules are somewhat complex. Fortunately there were volunteers to help us and all was well.

On Monday, we passed through a number of small villages with great names such as Boterham, Giggerty and Bumblehole. We even went through Swindon – not the massive 1960s sprawling town in Wiltshire, but a hamlet of a few houses and a pub in the West Midlands.

Tuesday was a short day. Just a couple of hours from Stewponey to Wolverley. We moored in a beautiful tree lined stretch, next to a brilliant pub called the Lock Inn. It cooked traditional Black Country food. I had a couple of pints of the local ale, and an enormous plate of Faggots and Mash. We considered staying another day, so we could see the Morris dancers, but in the end decided to carry on.

On Wednesday, we continued to the end of the Staffordshire and Worcestershire canal at Stourport. Stourport was once a very small village called Mitton, but after the canal was built became one of the busiest inland ports in Britain, as the canal joins the river Severn and from there large boats sailed down to the sea at Bristol. Nowadays it is a sleepy pretty town, with much history to see. It also has a permanent funfair, where we found this rather sad Winnie the Pooh.

Thursday was another day off and we stayed in Stourport. We took the opportunity to enjoy this small breakfast. Yum! We also went on a trip to see Dudmaston, a huge stately home that is still lived in by a (rather wealthy) family.

So no. Every day is not the same on a narrowboat. Every day brings something new and we are very lucky to enjoy it.

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑