Why is the Calder and Hebble unique?

We have cruised most of the canals and rivers in the UK in recent years. There are over 2000 miles of navigation and every one is different. But this week we have been along the Calder and Hebble and that really is unique.

From Fall Ing lock near Wakefield, to Sowerby Bridge, the canal and river navigation is just 23 miles long, built in around 1770 to connect the mill towns of Yorkshire to the rest of the country.

Let me tell you about three things you will not find anywhere else. The first is the short length of the locks. They can just about fit our narrowboat at 57.5 ft, but any longer and you really are in danger of getting stuck or flooded. There are other canals known for short locks, including the Leeds and Liverpool that we have recently left, but none as consistently short as the Calder and Hebble.

The second uniqueness is the Guillotine lock at Salterhebble. Most locks have pairs of wooden or steel gates that close together to hold the water back. Sometimes these are electrically operated but this one also operates as a guillotine, a single metal gate that goes up and down. It was installed after a road widening meant there was no room to keep normal gates. I have read that there are a few other guillotines around the country but as far as I am concerned this is unique.

The third unique thing is the “Hebble spike”, a piece of 3” x 2” shaped hardwood that is used to open and close lock sluices. I have no idea why these were used when this canal was built, rather than the windlasses we use on almost every other canal, but it has certainly been a unique experience to use this week. It is hard work!

I have enjoyed the week of uniqueness. Next week we travel the Rochdale canal. Maybe not so unique but even more of a challenge. I’ll let you know how we get on.

Are weapons fascinating or frightening?

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?

Life jackets that would not save our lives

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.

What have you learnt this week?

When one bridge is not enough

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?

Five reasons a house is better than a boat. And five reasons a boat is better than a house

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.

And the ducklings have arrived!

One of our delights when narrowboating is to see the many baby birds on the canals and rivers. Ducklings, Cygnets, Goslings, Cooties (baby Coots), and other chicks all arrive during our Spring travels. One thing I have never understood is why they all arrive at the same time. Two weeks ago we had seen none – just a few birds on nests. Then last week we began to see cooties and this week the canal is full of ducklings.

This family seem to prefer not to swim

I understand the benefits to the birds of young growing up as the weather warms up, but why do they all arrive in such a short space of time? In three weeks time there will be no more new ducklings, but lots of goslings and cygnets.

When I lived in a house, I was largely oblivious to seasons. Apart from it being cold in winter and hot in summer, I did not notice the changes. On the boat we see so much more. As well as ducklings, this has been the week for bluebells and wild garlic. The sides of the canals that were bare when we headed into Liverpool are now festooned with the flowers.

And May will bring a big seasonal change for me, when the jeans go back into the wardrobe, and the shorts come out. Those first few weeks with the pale white legs will be scarier than any wild birds.

Enjoying Liverpool

Usually when we are on our big narrowboat trips we have a couple of days off each week, when we don’t move the boat, and either do “jobs” or chill out. But this week we decided to take six days off and moor in Liverpool docks.

Mooring here is one of the wonders of the waterways. The docks were designed for great ocean going ships and so our narrowboat is dwarfed by the high docksides and massive bollards.

To get here we came down four locks from the main canal, and then steered through about six historic docks, passing many famous landmarks of Liverpool.

While here I have done a number of tourist things, including visiting both cathedrals, a stately home, and the houses where John Lennon and Paul McCartney grew up.

We also got to spend time with our niece Zoë and her new fiancé Guy. Zoë helped us on the journey here.

I think the thing I have enjoyed the most is just being moored quietly in the very centre of one of England’s great cities.

Thanks for a great week Liverpool. We will be back.

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.

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.

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.

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