Moore on Bridgewater to
Saturday 18th July 2009
It took us just 2 ½ hours to cover the seven miles from Moore to Lymm this morning and, even though we arrived before 11 o/clock, we were lucky to find a mooring spot. This must be the most popular town on the Bridgewater because, even now at 7 pm the boats are still arriving with no hope of finding room. Last September we came through here from the opposite direction and had no problems mooring up. I suppose the problem this year is that some schools are already on their summer holidays, we’ve certainly seen enough kids on boats this past week.
Tomorrow lunchtime we’re going to try a pub lunch at The Golden Fleece, the garden to which we are moored just a few yards short of. For some reason we didn’t bother with the pubs last year, which is a good enough reason to rectify the oversight. On Monday we’ll be heading further up to a winding hole, mooring up at Dunham Town for the night then, on Tuesday, we’ll come back here for one night and top up with any necessary victuals. Wednesday we will make our way back to Moore and Thursday on to Anderton where we might take the Trip Boat down to the Weaver.
On the other hand, we might not do any of that on the days as stated, it just depends upon how we feel and, of course, the weather.
Sunday 19th July 2009
I am so glad we did not go down on the Anderton Lift before coming here to Lymm. Once again the day has started with torrential rain and I dread to think what the water level is on the Weaver. I will also be very glad to get to our new moorings. This morning, once again, the heater system wouldn’t run, which means the battery power level is down again. Not that it’s cold in the boat, far from it. Despite the rain I’m certainly warm enough. It’s just that the system needs to run a full cycle, which is about 30 minutes, if it’s to remain clear and not clog up, thus preventing it from working at all.
It is on just seven o/clock in the morning, but I got up a little earlier than usual in order to make a start on my recipe book. It’s a long job because it will have over 40 chapters and over 300 pages, but I think it will be worth it. Besides which it keeps me out of mischief and I quite enjoy having to use my, somewhat feeble brain. It’s a darn good job I don’t have to rely on my memory for it, otherwise it would never be completed. So far this morning I’ve simply added the chapters. Later on today, or perhaps tomorrow, I’ll insert the pages. Then there is the Front Cover, Introduction and Forward to write. All good fun, don’t you know.
Tuesday 21st July 2009
Left Lymm yesterday with the intention of filling up with water and going on to the next winding hole, then mooring overnight at Durham Town Bridge, which we did. The aim this morning was to return to Lymm for another night. Of course we hadn’t reckoned with the weather and, quite naturally, it’s chucking it down this morning with no sign of letting up. According to the nice weather man on Auntie Beeb it’s going to be mainly dry in the north. Are we not north?
Not that we mind staying in one place for two days when necessary but, since I’m still having problems getting the engine to start, this despite the wiring fix, I would like to at least get down into the engine bay and check other wiring. As my good Bruv suggested yesterday, it might be a poor earth connection rather then a faulty starter motor. Watch this space! Bashing the motor with a club hammer always works, but the bashing might be disturbing a poor connection. Who knows? And I won’t know until I check, now will I?
Wednesday 22nd July 2009
Here we are at Lymm once again.
We are still having trouble with the starter but, having checked the wiring yet again, and having found no problem and, still not convinced that the starter motor is at fault, we put our, not inconsiderable brain cells together and gave the problem some pondering. On several occasions now, especially since talking to Nick Bancroft and having him check our batteries, we have been hitched up to mains power. We had two nights at Nantwich, two nights at Llangollen and a night at Wincham where Sandra rewired the engine loom. On all of those occasions we have found that the engine starts without a fuss on the following morning and for two or three days after.
We now think that, since the engine starts easily for a few days after being on a landline, either the alternator is not charging the starter battery properly, or the starter battery is naff and is only holding a charge for a short time after being on mains power. Or both! Whatever, we don’t believe the starter motor is at fault, because it is only about 2 ½ years old. We’ve been told that it is very unusual for starter motors to fail and certainly not two in such a short space of time.
Anyway, I phoned Nick this morning, after yet another failed start and after checking the wiring, and asked him about starter motor prices. Now, when we were at Anderton and he came to see us about this problem, he said, and I quote, “Don’t go to one of the marina based engineers, because they’ll charge you the earth. These starter motors are as common as muck and are fitted to loads of different cars and boats. You can pick them up for about 50 quid each.” When I asked him this morning he said, and again I quote, “They’re pretty expensive you know, I’ll have to phone Izuzu and they’ll want an exchange unit before they will supply a new one” The, when I mentioned our previous conversation about ’50 quid each’, he denied all knowledge.
I don’t think I’ll be asking him to check this out again, do you? I have to say that, after the good work he’s done for us, both with servicing our heater last September, and not charging us for checking our batteries a few weeks ago, I’m a bit disappointed at his bare faced lie about the cost of a starter motor.
Anyway, we’re now going to arrange a three night stay at Anderton Marina, that’s if they phone me back today as I’ve asked them to do, or somewhere else, and see just how long afterwards the engine starts without protest. This will, we hope, prove one way or the other, whether it’s the battery or alternator at fault.
Thursday 23rd July 2009
After about three hours cruising, quite a bit of which was through pouring rain, we finally covered the seven miles to our previous moorings at Moore and settled down to a cup of tea and a read of the paper. About 12.30 or so a young lady came by and asked if she could borrow our boathook, so off went Wifey to see what the fuss was all about.
It transpired that this young lady’s friend, who hadn’t ridden a bike in about 30 years, had just taken it up again and was practising on the towpath. A few years ago my dearly beloved and I purchased a couple of bikes, with the intention of trying to improve our fitness. After at least 30 years the old saw about, ‘it’s just like riding a bike, you never forget how’, somehow didn’t ring true. Despite still know how, the actual doing is not so easy after such a space of time. The cycle lanes of Harlow are one thing, a towpath is quite another.
Anyway, it seems the lady in question had taken a dive into the canal, complete with bike and bag, which contained all her worldly possessions, including purse and credit cards and, quite probably her mobile phone. After fisher her and her bicycle out the bag, having drifted towards the opposite bank before sinking, was quite another matter. Hence the request for our boathook.
Unfortunately, and despite the assistance of other boaters, who had slowed to a stop to help, no bag was found. The two ladies, one of which was soaking wet, finally gave up and made their way home. Some time in the future, and it could be many years, some lucky fisherman is going to make a most unusual catch. If he’s honest he’ll try to return it to it’s owner, if not he’ll probably spend any cash, if it’s still in circulation and he might even try using the credit cards.
I managed to get a message to Nick regarding our starter problems. He texted me back with the information that a new motor from Isuzu would set us back £485 plus postage. That, plus Nick’s time to fit it, will probably cost around £600. Who said living on a boat is cheap? Obviously we’ll have to think about it, but we’ll probably try to get to our moorings first. Then, whilst we’re connected to mains electricity, remove the offending item and see if it can be repaired, rather than spend all that money. It does seem odd that, over the period we’ve had the boat, two starter motors have failed. We’re more inclined to think it is either a wiring problem, or a lack of power in the starter battery. Nick will check the battery on Saturday and we’ll take it from there.
Saturday 25th July 2009
The continuing saga of the dodgy starter motor……
I spoke to Nick again yesterday and he said he would be along later that evening. He then phoned again to say that his early Saturday job had been cancelled and he would be along Saturday morning.
I had hoped he would be with us early-ish but, just as I was giving up hope, having phoned and sent a text, with no reply from either, he turned up at about 10.30. Bad news, the battery checked out OK, so we almost certainly have a starter motor fault. After telling him we were not prepared to cough up about £600 – with his labour costs – he suggested he take it to a repair centre, which would cost about 1/3 rd, which we agreed to.
Now, the only problem with that idea is that we need to be on mains power for the couple of days without being able to run the engine. “No problem”, he says, “I know a bloke at Broken Cross who moors his boat at the bottom of his garden, and he’s away right now, I’ll give him a call”.
The upshot of all that is that we’ll go down to Broken Cross on Sunday afternoon, he’ll come along and remove the offending article, connect us up to the mains, get the motor repaired and have it back within a couple of days. The beauty of this idea is that there’s a Spar shop opposite the house and there’s a pub a few minutes walk away.
Watch this space for further, exciting developments. Meanwhile I’ll post this and give you, my avid readers, something to do over the weekend.
All abreast for now.
Dave, Sheila and Rusty our trusty mutt.
Saturday, 25 July 2009
Friday, 17 July 2009
Bridge 176 on T and M to Moore On Bridgewater
Bridge 176 on T and M to Moore
On the Bridgewater Canal
Hi Folks,
Here we are, on Sunday 12th July 2009 moored at a place called Marston on The Trent and Mersey Canal. Locally, along with the nearby village of Mincham, the area is famous for its salt mine which, according to an old advertisement hanging in The Salt Barge pub, was up for auction 5th November 1853. This was a leasehold sale and the purchaser was expected to pay an annual rental of £80, plus 6d tonnage on exported rock salt, or 3d tonnage on non-exported rock salt.
Also, as part of the dividing wall between the bar and the pool room, is a triplex glass window, of quite an imposing size, that depicts the pub, which was known as The New Inn prior to 1986, the local primary school, the salt mine of course, and various other local landmarks. In fact the gentleman who carried out the acid etching of this window was in the bar and we passed a few minutes chatting with him on our way out.
The opposite wall to the window is dedicated to the villages of Marston and Mincham and the ex workers of the salt mine, with old, sepia photographs all along the wall. This too was the brainchild of the above mentioned gentleman. I suppose he could have been anything from 60 to 70 years of age, with a well lived in face and a train drivers cap perched on his head. How I wish I’d had my camera with me, he would certainly have made a very good study.
This morning, before leaving our moorings, I donned my old jeans and T-shirt and investigated the wiring between the starter switch and motor. Hey presto, having cleaned a couple of connections, the engine started immediately. Naturally I was not expecting this but, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I accepted my good fortune and off we went.
It is now 7 pm and, two hours ago I went out to start the engine. No luck! Quel surprise! As expected – oh yes, I wasn’t fooled by the easy start this morning – the wretched thing did not start and we were obliged to fine tune with the 4 lb sledge. This simply means though, that the problem is nearer, or within the starter motor. As Thomas Edison said, when chasing whatever it was he was chasing, “I’ve found 5000 ways of not doing so, if it takes another 5000 attempts before I succeed, so be it”, or something like that. No doubt somebody will correct me on that little lot.
Tomorrow I’ll have another go at the wiring closer to the motor and, if that doesn’t work I’ll have to assume we have our second dodgy starter since we bought the boat. The trouble with that idea, is that we’ve been told, by more than one engineer, that starter motors simply do not break down, which begs the question, ‘why did The New Boat Company replace one within six months of our purchase when we experienced trouble starting the engine?’
Also tomorrow, after sorting out this problem, we’ll be off to Anderton. However, if I’m not happy with the starter, I doubt we’ll go down the lift onto the Weaver as planned. Instead we’ll just stay the night then make our way up to the Bridgewater canal.
Things are not going according to plan at the moment. Here we are, on Tuesday 14th July 2009, and we’re still having problems with the starter. Anyway, Nick popped in yesterday evening after work and gave it a look over. As is usual with these things, the wretched thing started for him. But, having dropped down inside the engine bay, he discovered some corroded wiring. Unfortunately, now that he is permanently based at Nantwich and no longer needs his work van, he had no tools with him and could not repair it. Instead he’s given our number to a lady named Sandra who, he tells me, is a whiz at wiring. She’s due to give us a call sometime today, we hope!
Strangely, Nick having disturbed those wires, the engine started without problems this morning. As for the loo overfilling after flushing, that is probably due to a sticking solenoid, which is located, so I’m told, behind the toilet bowl. Oh, whoopee, now all I have to do is disconnect the bowl from the floor, pull it forward, and give the solenoid a clot in the hopes it will settle down and do what it’s supposed to do. But that chore will wait until we get to our permanent moorings.
After Nick checked our batteries a few weeks ago, we’ve had no problems with our heater running in the mornings. Obviously the two days at Nantwich on mains and the two days at Llangollen, also on mains, did the trick and boosted the power level. However, we decided to run the engine earlier yesterday so as to avoid burning Nicks bum if he had to sit on the engine. Since he didn’t turn up until gone seven last night, we had no time to run it again, which meant that the heater wouldn’t run last nigh or this morning. So, a cold wash was enjoyed by all concerned this morning..
We’re at the 48 hour moorings opposite Anderton marina. In fact there are two marinas here on opposite sides of the canal. The Anderton one has a chandlery and a restaurant which, according to a boater we spoke to yesterday, produces a very good range of well cooked food. It’s doubtful we’ll try it this time through, but we may well do on the way back after we’ve been up to Lymm on the Bridgewater and have done the Weaver.
Aside from the marinas, which are both pretty big, there is just one small shop about half a mile further on, which Sheila has just walked to for the paper.
We haven’t decided yet where we’re going tomorrow, but it will be after Wifey gets the paper.
Thursday 16th July 2009 @ 7am
Well, here we are, at Wyncham Wharf, awaiting the pleasure of Sandra, who lives on Yolande, which is the boat moored next to us. This boat is totally different to anything we’ve seen so far. It’s about the same length as Shiralee, but it has a centre cockpit with a proper steering wheel. In our boat we have a 35 HP Isuzu diesel engine, whilst hers has a Mercedes-Benz C5Di85HP engine. Working purely on a mathematical basis, her engine produces almost 2 ½ times the power of ours, which puts it at around 4 Litres is size. Since she’s moored here permanently, there’s little cance of her thundering past us any time soon.
But, I digress, Sandra finally came to see us at Anderton and said she would be fixing our corroded plug this morning and could we bring the boat to her, rather than her drive up to us. Well, why not, we’ve got all the time in the world, as we’re retired from the rat race now.
So, here we are, but the trip down here was not all fun and frolic. For a start, just as we set of the heavens opened up and out came the big brolly. Thankfully it didn’t last long. However, when we got here and realised we would have to reverse into the space beside her boat, the whole sequence of events became something of a farce.
Certainly there was enough room to manoeuvre into the slot, even with a boat moored opposite. But nobody had told us that the water below our boat was so silted up that we could hardly move. They also didn’t tell us about the detritus laying on the bottom. After much heaving and grunting, with the help of several other bodies, we had to accept defeat. We were simply not going to get in stern first. Bow first, now that’s a different gether altomatter!
So, with a lot more heaving and grunting from all concerned, we finally exited the hole we’d got ourselves into and off we went. Well, even that was not as straightforward as we would have liked, because we were not getting anywhere. But, having stopped to remove a piece of carpet from the prop, off we went to find a winding hole, which we did by going all the way down to Broken Cross, another mile away.
Upon our return we easily slotted in without any grunting or heaving and tied up. The nice gentleman who runs the Colliery Narrowboat Company kindly hitched us up to the electricity point and we settled in to wait for Sandra. Thankfully the kit she had ordered had arrived, so we can expect to have the repairs done in the morning, that’s this morning, just in case you’re becoming confused. Once that’s done we’ll be on our way again and we’re hoping the repair will solve our starter problems. If not then it’s back to Nick for a new motor, because we simply cannot carry on as we have been, where we’ve been taking up the engine bay cover and clouting the motor with a hammer every time we need to run the engine, which is usually twice a day.
Friday 17th July 2009
I do not claim to be physic although, just like anyone else who lives on a boat, I suppose I must be a little nutty for doing so. But, after almost three years living aboard Shiralee, I’ve become a tad familiar with the vagaries of the English weather. We should, by now, be cruising the River Weaver via the Anderton Lift and, I suppose, we might well have been doing so had it not been for our starter problems. However, for some time now, I’ve had the feeling that we should avoid doing so, at least for the time being.
Wednesday, on our way down to see Sandra about our wiring, the heavens opened up in a quite prolonged cloudburst. Yesterday, shortly after arriving at our current moorings, it started raining and hasn’t left off for most of the day and over night. At times it has been very heavy, certainly enough to wake us both up. So, what chance the River Weaver is running at its normal level?
Anyway, it isn’t raining at present, at 07.00, but it certainly looks as though there is plenty more to come. Hopefully we’ll get to our next moorings, which will be at Moore, another place we stopped at last year on the Bridgewater. It has a small shop by the roadside, unfortunately, so it will mean a short walk for Wifey to get the paper. We don’t like to moor too close to roads if we can help it, too noisy and the boat is too tempting for vandals. Saturday we should be at Lymm, where we will, this time around, pop into one of the pubs and, once again, sample the wares of their delightful bakery and delicatessen.
In order to get to these moorings we had to go through a couple of tunnels, first the Barnton Tunnel, at 572 yards then the Saltersford Tunnel, which is a little shorter at just 424 yards. The Barnton tunnel is accessed via a huge great pound that has a number of boats permanently moored on the opposite side to the towpath. As with most single file tunnels, which both of these are, it’s impossible to see through it except when pointing directly at the entrance. Mooring up and walking round to the entrance does no good at all, because the towpath does not extend out enough. The only thing to do is to line the boat up and have Sheila see if anything is coming, which kind of leaves one stranded in the middle of the pound.
In this instance, when she looked through the tunnel the first time, she couldn’t see through to end. This could mean one of two things, either there was a boat going through and was blocking her line of sight, or there was one coming at us without its lights on. Consequently, all I could do was to back off for a couple of minutes then repeat the procedure until she could see the other end. Eventually she gave me the all clear and off we went. The trouble with this and the next tunnel, is that they both have a slight kink to them.
Saltersford Tunnel has timed usage, which means that those boats going north must enter on the hour until 20 minutes past, whilst those going south traversed the tunnel on the half hour until 10 minutes to. It is essential to adhere to these times, because this tunnel has a severe kink in it and the other end simply cannot be seen.
From Saltersford Tunnel it’s about another four miles to Preston Brook Tunnel, which is 1239 yards long and is on the same timed usage as Saltersford, except here you are only allowed 10 minutes leeway. If you miss your slot you have a half hour to wait. About 100 yards short of the tunnel entrance is a stop-lock, which was originally used so that the lock keeper could shake his tin for a toll fee. This is because the Trent and Mersey is run by BW, whereas the Bridgewater is controlled and maintained by The Manchester Ship Canal Company. Nowadays boaters from both jurisdictions are allowed two weeks free usage of either canal.
We approached this stop-lock at about 08.55 and suddenly realised we only had a maximum of 15 minutes to get to the tunnel entrance, and there was a boat just about to enter the lock from the tunnel end. Fortunately the boater was well aware of our time limit and made all haste to get out of the lock. As it was we just made it with a few minutes to spare, otherwise we would have had to wait a further 20 minutes.
Once again we arrived at our current moorings just in time before the heavens opened up, which they are still doing. Tomorrow, all being well, we’ll make Lymm and stay the weekend.
As luck would have it, even being moored miles from any human settlement of any importance, we are able to get online. So, here comes another blog.
Luv and Stuff
Dave, Sheila and Rusty.
On the Bridgewater Canal
Hi Folks,
Here we are, on Sunday 12th July 2009 moored at a place called Marston on The Trent and Mersey Canal. Locally, along with the nearby village of Mincham, the area is famous for its salt mine which, according to an old advertisement hanging in The Salt Barge pub, was up for auction 5th November 1853. This was a leasehold sale and the purchaser was expected to pay an annual rental of £80, plus 6d tonnage on exported rock salt, or 3d tonnage on non-exported rock salt.
Also, as part of the dividing wall between the bar and the pool room, is a triplex glass window, of quite an imposing size, that depicts the pub, which was known as The New Inn prior to 1986, the local primary school, the salt mine of course, and various other local landmarks. In fact the gentleman who carried out the acid etching of this window was in the bar and we passed a few minutes chatting with him on our way out.
The opposite wall to the window is dedicated to the villages of Marston and Mincham and the ex workers of the salt mine, with old, sepia photographs all along the wall. This too was the brainchild of the above mentioned gentleman. I suppose he could have been anything from 60 to 70 years of age, with a well lived in face and a train drivers cap perched on his head. How I wish I’d had my camera with me, he would certainly have made a very good study.
This morning, before leaving our moorings, I donned my old jeans and T-shirt and investigated the wiring between the starter switch and motor. Hey presto, having cleaned a couple of connections, the engine started immediately. Naturally I was not expecting this but, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I accepted my good fortune and off we went.
It is now 7 pm and, two hours ago I went out to start the engine. No luck! Quel surprise! As expected – oh yes, I wasn’t fooled by the easy start this morning – the wretched thing did not start and we were obliged to fine tune with the 4 lb sledge. This simply means though, that the problem is nearer, or within the starter motor. As Thomas Edison said, when chasing whatever it was he was chasing, “I’ve found 5000 ways of not doing so, if it takes another 5000 attempts before I succeed, so be it”, or something like that. No doubt somebody will correct me on that little lot.
Tomorrow I’ll have another go at the wiring closer to the motor and, if that doesn’t work I’ll have to assume we have our second dodgy starter since we bought the boat. The trouble with that idea, is that we’ve been told, by more than one engineer, that starter motors simply do not break down, which begs the question, ‘why did The New Boat Company replace one within six months of our purchase when we experienced trouble starting the engine?’
Also tomorrow, after sorting out this problem, we’ll be off to Anderton. However, if I’m not happy with the starter, I doubt we’ll go down the lift onto the Weaver as planned. Instead we’ll just stay the night then make our way up to the Bridgewater canal.
Things are not going according to plan at the moment. Here we are, on Tuesday 14th July 2009, and we’re still having problems with the starter. Anyway, Nick popped in yesterday evening after work and gave it a look over. As is usual with these things, the wretched thing started for him. But, having dropped down inside the engine bay, he discovered some corroded wiring. Unfortunately, now that he is permanently based at Nantwich and no longer needs his work van, he had no tools with him and could not repair it. Instead he’s given our number to a lady named Sandra who, he tells me, is a whiz at wiring. She’s due to give us a call sometime today, we hope!
Strangely, Nick having disturbed those wires, the engine started without problems this morning. As for the loo overfilling after flushing, that is probably due to a sticking solenoid, which is located, so I’m told, behind the toilet bowl. Oh, whoopee, now all I have to do is disconnect the bowl from the floor, pull it forward, and give the solenoid a clot in the hopes it will settle down and do what it’s supposed to do. But that chore will wait until we get to our permanent moorings.
After Nick checked our batteries a few weeks ago, we’ve had no problems with our heater running in the mornings. Obviously the two days at Nantwich on mains and the two days at Llangollen, also on mains, did the trick and boosted the power level. However, we decided to run the engine earlier yesterday so as to avoid burning Nicks bum if he had to sit on the engine. Since he didn’t turn up until gone seven last night, we had no time to run it again, which meant that the heater wouldn’t run last nigh or this morning. So, a cold wash was enjoyed by all concerned this morning..
We’re at the 48 hour moorings opposite Anderton marina. In fact there are two marinas here on opposite sides of the canal. The Anderton one has a chandlery and a restaurant which, according to a boater we spoke to yesterday, produces a very good range of well cooked food. It’s doubtful we’ll try it this time through, but we may well do on the way back after we’ve been up to Lymm on the Bridgewater and have done the Weaver.
Aside from the marinas, which are both pretty big, there is just one small shop about half a mile further on, which Sheila has just walked to for the paper.
We haven’t decided yet where we’re going tomorrow, but it will be after Wifey gets the paper.
Thursday 16th July 2009 @ 7am
Well, here we are, at Wyncham Wharf, awaiting the pleasure of Sandra, who lives on Yolande, which is the boat moored next to us. This boat is totally different to anything we’ve seen so far. It’s about the same length as Shiralee, but it has a centre cockpit with a proper steering wheel. In our boat we have a 35 HP Isuzu diesel engine, whilst hers has a Mercedes-Benz C5Di85HP engine. Working purely on a mathematical basis, her engine produces almost 2 ½ times the power of ours, which puts it at around 4 Litres is size. Since she’s moored here permanently, there’s little cance of her thundering past us any time soon.
But, I digress, Sandra finally came to see us at Anderton and said she would be fixing our corroded plug this morning and could we bring the boat to her, rather than her drive up to us. Well, why not, we’ve got all the time in the world, as we’re retired from the rat race now.
So, here we are, but the trip down here was not all fun and frolic. For a start, just as we set of the heavens opened up and out came the big brolly. Thankfully it didn’t last long. However, when we got here and realised we would have to reverse into the space beside her boat, the whole sequence of events became something of a farce.
Certainly there was enough room to manoeuvre into the slot, even with a boat moored opposite. But nobody had told us that the water below our boat was so silted up that we could hardly move. They also didn’t tell us about the detritus laying on the bottom. After much heaving and grunting, with the help of several other bodies, we had to accept defeat. We were simply not going to get in stern first. Bow first, now that’s a different gether altomatter!
So, with a lot more heaving and grunting from all concerned, we finally exited the hole we’d got ourselves into and off we went. Well, even that was not as straightforward as we would have liked, because we were not getting anywhere. But, having stopped to remove a piece of carpet from the prop, off we went to find a winding hole, which we did by going all the way down to Broken Cross, another mile away.
Upon our return we easily slotted in without any grunting or heaving and tied up. The nice gentleman who runs the Colliery Narrowboat Company kindly hitched us up to the electricity point and we settled in to wait for Sandra. Thankfully the kit she had ordered had arrived, so we can expect to have the repairs done in the morning, that’s this morning, just in case you’re becoming confused. Once that’s done we’ll be on our way again and we’re hoping the repair will solve our starter problems. If not then it’s back to Nick for a new motor, because we simply cannot carry on as we have been, where we’ve been taking up the engine bay cover and clouting the motor with a hammer every time we need to run the engine, which is usually twice a day.
Friday 17th July 2009
I do not claim to be physic although, just like anyone else who lives on a boat, I suppose I must be a little nutty for doing so. But, after almost three years living aboard Shiralee, I’ve become a tad familiar with the vagaries of the English weather. We should, by now, be cruising the River Weaver via the Anderton Lift and, I suppose, we might well have been doing so had it not been for our starter problems. However, for some time now, I’ve had the feeling that we should avoid doing so, at least for the time being.
Wednesday, on our way down to see Sandra about our wiring, the heavens opened up in a quite prolonged cloudburst. Yesterday, shortly after arriving at our current moorings, it started raining and hasn’t left off for most of the day and over night. At times it has been very heavy, certainly enough to wake us both up. So, what chance the River Weaver is running at its normal level?
Anyway, it isn’t raining at present, at 07.00, but it certainly looks as though there is plenty more to come. Hopefully we’ll get to our next moorings, which will be at Moore, another place we stopped at last year on the Bridgewater. It has a small shop by the roadside, unfortunately, so it will mean a short walk for Wifey to get the paper. We don’t like to moor too close to roads if we can help it, too noisy and the boat is too tempting for vandals. Saturday we should be at Lymm, where we will, this time around, pop into one of the pubs and, once again, sample the wares of their delightful bakery and delicatessen.
In order to get to these moorings we had to go through a couple of tunnels, first the Barnton Tunnel, at 572 yards then the Saltersford Tunnel, which is a little shorter at just 424 yards. The Barnton tunnel is accessed via a huge great pound that has a number of boats permanently moored on the opposite side to the towpath. As with most single file tunnels, which both of these are, it’s impossible to see through it except when pointing directly at the entrance. Mooring up and walking round to the entrance does no good at all, because the towpath does not extend out enough. The only thing to do is to line the boat up and have Sheila see if anything is coming, which kind of leaves one stranded in the middle of the pound.
In this instance, when she looked through the tunnel the first time, she couldn’t see through to end. This could mean one of two things, either there was a boat going through and was blocking her line of sight, or there was one coming at us without its lights on. Consequently, all I could do was to back off for a couple of minutes then repeat the procedure until she could see the other end. Eventually she gave me the all clear and off we went. The trouble with this and the next tunnel, is that they both have a slight kink to them.
Saltersford Tunnel has timed usage, which means that those boats going north must enter on the hour until 20 minutes past, whilst those going south traversed the tunnel on the half hour until 10 minutes to. It is essential to adhere to these times, because this tunnel has a severe kink in it and the other end simply cannot be seen.
From Saltersford Tunnel it’s about another four miles to Preston Brook Tunnel, which is 1239 yards long and is on the same timed usage as Saltersford, except here you are only allowed 10 minutes leeway. If you miss your slot you have a half hour to wait. About 100 yards short of the tunnel entrance is a stop-lock, which was originally used so that the lock keeper could shake his tin for a toll fee. This is because the Trent and Mersey is run by BW, whereas the Bridgewater is controlled and maintained by The Manchester Ship Canal Company. Nowadays boaters from both jurisdictions are allowed two weeks free usage of either canal.
We approached this stop-lock at about 08.55 and suddenly realised we only had a maximum of 15 minutes to get to the tunnel entrance, and there was a boat just about to enter the lock from the tunnel end. Fortunately the boater was well aware of our time limit and made all haste to get out of the lock. As it was we just made it with a few minutes to spare, otherwise we would have had to wait a further 20 minutes.
Once again we arrived at our current moorings just in time before the heavens opened up, which they are still doing. Tomorrow, all being well, we’ll make Lymm and stay the weekend.
As luck would have it, even being moored miles from any human settlement of any importance, we are able to get online. So, here comes another blog.
Luv and Stuff
Dave, Sheila and Rusty.
Saturday, 11 July 2009
Whitchurch to Bridge 176 on the T and M
Whitchurch to Bridge 176 on The Trent and Mersey
Saturday 4th July 2009
The last time we passed through Whitchurch we moored up on the short arm off the main canal, because we wanted to go into town and, as you all know by now, the shortest walk I can get away with the better. This time though, since we didn’t need to go into town, and we didn’t want the problem of having to return to the main arm in order to turn around and continue in the same direction, we chose to moor opposite the arm.
This was not the best of decisions because, at about 1.30 am Wifey heard some people walking along the towpath. At that time of the morning they were either boaters returning from a pub that we weren’t aware existed, or they were up to no good. As we discovered this morning whilst preparing to leave, the latter was the case, because they stole a stone figure of an otter that (used to!) adorn the roof of Shiralee. What they proposed to do with it goodness knows, it really isn’t worth anything except sentimental value.
Having passed through Grindley Brook Locks after topping up with water, and after Sheila walked back to the local shop for milk and a paper, we passed through Povey’s Lock and moored up just before Willeymoor Lock, which is where we moored on our way to Whitchurch on the way up the canal.
This short stretch of canal, between Whitchurch and Willeymoor Lock, a distance of about 2 ½ miles, seems to house a few morons. We hadn’t been here more than a couple of hours or so when Sheila noticed a boat drifting past us. Obviously nobody was on board and, quite naturally under the circumstances, it was pouring with rain, because we were the only other boaters around and, therefore, the job of pulling it in and mooring it up was down to us.
Quite obviously, since the boat had been secured with two hooks and a mooring pin, somebody had deliberately untied it. Equally obviously, since it was chucking it down by the bucket load, those responsible had not stayed around to observe the result. Which begs the question, if they were not around to laugh at whoever retrieved the boat and tied it up, what pleasure could they possibly have gained by untying it in the first place?
Ah well, such is human nature, I suppose!
I’ve not jumped on my soapbox for quite a while now, but I really couldn’t resist doing so here.
Is the American government paranoid or what? If you have read any of the daily papers today, especially the Daily Mail, you would have noticed the story about the autistic man whose extradition is being sought for allegedly hacking into US defence computers. Bear in mind this happened over seven years ago and, as anyone with any common sense can see – except the Americans of course – they are just making themselves a laughing stock around the world. What a coup for extremists, they must be having a good chuckle at the Yanks now that this story is headline news.
The American government are so paranoid that, not only do they want this believer in Little Green Men to stand trial in the States, they want him to serve about 60 years for this heinous crime. What they should really be doing is employing him as a computer security expert to ensure their systems are not broken into again. Beside, what possible use can be served by putting this unhappy individual in jail?
If anybody reading this agrees with me on this, simply go to the Daily Mail website and fill in their form. Our own government has no business extraditing any British citizen, to any other country, no matter what the crime. They should be tried here and serve their sentence here. Do the Yanks really think they own the world and can dictate to everyone living I it? The fact is, that for every US citizen extradited to the UK, two have gone the other way and stood trial in a US court. And, remember, the USA has six times the population of the UK.
Now, that’s what I call a fair extradition treaty!!
Enough said. Tomorrow we will, once again, enjoy a drink at the local watering hole. Hopefully we’ll be left in peace tonight and tomorrow night and not be set adrift by the Mindless Morons of the Llangollen Canal.
Monday 6th July 2009
And here we are at Wrenbury Mill, just around the corner to the Alvechurch Hire Boat Company, many of whose boats we have seen on our travels along the Llangollen. The plan is to stay here for the full 48 hours as allowed by BW then, on Wednesday, we’ll cruise to an out of the way spot until Thursday morning, when we’ll leave the Llangollen and get back onto the Shroppie.
Yesterday we paid a visit to the Willeymoor Lock pub and sat outside as time honoured gongoozlers. At the risk of repeating myself, this is the term used by seasoned boaters when referring to other folks who see boating as a spectator sport.
You may remember the last time we were there, that I commented on the peculiar taste of the Guinness at that pub. Now, I don’t know what causes the odd tang, but I suspect it has something to do with the cleaning fluid they use for the glasses. Either that or whatever they use to clean the beer pipes through. Whatever it is it’s not so powerful as to completely ruin the taste of the beer, but it is a nuisance all the same. Needless to say, if we ever pass through this canal again, we’ll stop further up and sample the beer at The Horse and Jockey.
When we set out in April we knew we would be doing the Llangollen and Mongomery canals but were unsure as to where we would be going after those. Well, now we know. According to the Oracle we’ll be going down the Andrton Lift, which joins the Trent and Mersey and the River Weaver. We really didn’t have the time last year but, since we don’t need to be at our new moorings until the end of September and, since they are only about 120 miles or so from here, we have plenty of time.
We’ll also return to the Bridgewater Canal and travel as far as Lymm, just to pass the time. Lymm has a really good bakery cum delicatessen and several pubs, one of which we’ll try to fit in. As you all know, apart from the ends of the Bridgewater, there are no locks to impede our travel and there are plenty of good moorings along the way.
Friday 10th July 2009
I have totally overlooked anything to do with this blog since Monday. As I recall, we had left Willeymoor Lock and made our way to Wrenbury Mill, which is where most of the hire boats on the Llangollen come from. Not a lot happened during our overnight stay there, other than Wifey walking into the village for a bit of shopping. One thing I do remember is the heavy rain during the night, heavy enough to wake me up and that’s for sure.
By the next morning it was dry enough to get moving again and we made it to Halls Lane Bridge, which is a place we moored up at on the way up the canal. It’s nicely out in the open countryside and very peaceful. Unfortunately no pubs around, at least, none that I could possibly walk to, which is one good reason for having my knees sorted out. I’m also missing out on loads of interesting places to visit. It’s all well and good cruising all these waterways but, if you can’t take a stroll into the nearest town or village, quite a bit of te enjoyment is lost.
On Wednesday we made our way to Barbridge, only this time we decided to stop opposite the Old Barbridge Inn, which is a pub we visited about 15 years ago and had promised ourselves another visit. Here we enjoyed a baguette and a drink. The only problem with mooring along that particular stretch, is the ledge that runs along the towpath side. It’s too deep for a fender to rest against, and it’s too shallow for the boat to drift over. Consequently, when moored up there is a gap of about four inches between the boat and the towpath. With the best will in the world it’s impossible to tie up in such a way as to prevent the boat from banging against the ledge every time another boat passes.
We stayed at Barbridge for an extra night so as to take the bus into Nantwich for a humungous shopping trip. I could have let Sheila go on her own but, as sure as eggs is eggs, she would come back with a trolly and two bags full and be completely knackered. We called into the town last year, but we didn’t have bus passes then and, having taken the bus from the Nantwich moorings, it cost us about £2.00 each. From Barbridge it’s a much longer ride, so I hate to think what that would have cost.
Thursday nights at The Old Barbridge Inn are supposed to be live music nights but, apart from a bit of loud juke box music around 6 o/clock, we heard nothing out of the ordinary. This may be because the pub is up for sale and the live music has been suspended until a new manager takes over. Whatever the reason, we had a peaceful evening and, once again, the whole stretch of canal was chock full of boats. Is it summer or something? I heard on the radio that some schools have already broken up, that can’t be right surely? Perhaps it’s just the senior pupils who have finished their GCSE’s?
It’s now Friday and we are, once again, miles from nowhere and just a couple of miles from Middlewich. Hopefully, assuming the weather forecasters are wrong and it doesn’t rain tomorrow, we’ll make it to the Trent and Mersey where, it just so happens, there is more than one pub. That depends upon another unknown quantity, Wifey. She just might want to go on from there and be nearer to our next big stopping point, The Anderton Lift and the River Weaver. I can’t say I’m that keen on rivers, not after our escapade on the Soar in 2007 but, hopefully, we won’t be subjected to floods this time.
Actually our new and permanent moorings are very close to Kegworth, which is where we spent 10 days in the flood lock. Fortunately the marina is on a short stretch of canal that connects to the Soar through a lock, so it is not prone to flooding. Hallelujah to that!
Saturday 11th July 2009
And that pesky starter motor has come back to haunt me! Over the past few days the engine has refused to start without a kick up the starter motor with a 4 lb sledge hammer. This takes us back to late in our cruise last year. At the time all I could think of to do, was to check out all the wiring associated with the SM and, lo and behold, it continued working for a few weeks. Eventually we called in River Canal Rescue but, as was the case when I was a TV engineer, they never go wrong when you want them to.
It seems we’re back to square one again and, if I don’t improve matters tomorrow morning, without the aforementioned fine tuning, then the Anderton Lift and River Weaver are out of the equation. Getting ourselves stranded somewhere along about 25 miles of river will not be much fun.
But, I digress, we left our moorings on the Middlewich Branch this morning around 8 o/clock. We were expecting rain, because that’s what we were told by the nice weather lady yesterday evening, but it was not forthcoming. Instead, although cloudy, it’s been pleasantly warm. So, we stopped at Middlewich for Wifey to go shopping and I stayed home to take care of the pooch.
Fortunately she took her mobile with her, otherwise there’s no telling if or when she was likely to return. When she did phone it was to ask me for directions back to the boat. Now, we were moored between two bridges, the roads over which would both take her into town. Unfortunately, after turning right out of Tesco, she walked past the turning that would have brought her back to the canal.
Being the kind and caring husband that I am, once she’d told me where she was heading for, I walked back to the bridge I expected her to appear from. But, as you would expect, as with any good sit-com, she appeared from the opposite direction. What would I do without her to give me the occasional chuckle?
Eventually we got moving again and finally, after five locks and as many miles, we pulled in just opposite a pretty little mooring spot that we used last year. The area I’m talking about has been cleared and had proper moorings put in by a boat club about three miles away. Today, it seems, they’re having a little get together because, where there is barely enough room for three boats to moor, there are now four, with one boat doubled up with another.
Tomorrow, with luck and a tail wind, and assuming the rain doesn’t come later than forecast, we’ll move on to the nearest pub, which is the Old Broken Cross. If we’re not impressed with that, we’ll move on to The Salt Barge at Marston, which is a pub we stopped at last year. At the time it was the currant licensee’s last day, so all beer was half price. But first I’ve got to have a go at the starter motor.
Lucky old me, we’re in the middle of nowhere and I’ve managed to get online, so I’ll post this blog.
Cheers me dears.
Dave, Sheila and Rusty.
Saturday 4th July 2009
The last time we passed through Whitchurch we moored up on the short arm off the main canal, because we wanted to go into town and, as you all know by now, the shortest walk I can get away with the better. This time though, since we didn’t need to go into town, and we didn’t want the problem of having to return to the main arm in order to turn around and continue in the same direction, we chose to moor opposite the arm.
This was not the best of decisions because, at about 1.30 am Wifey heard some people walking along the towpath. At that time of the morning they were either boaters returning from a pub that we weren’t aware existed, or they were up to no good. As we discovered this morning whilst preparing to leave, the latter was the case, because they stole a stone figure of an otter that (used to!) adorn the roof of Shiralee. What they proposed to do with it goodness knows, it really isn’t worth anything except sentimental value.
Having passed through Grindley Brook Locks after topping up with water, and after Sheila walked back to the local shop for milk and a paper, we passed through Povey’s Lock and moored up just before Willeymoor Lock, which is where we moored on our way to Whitchurch on the way up the canal.
This short stretch of canal, between Whitchurch and Willeymoor Lock, a distance of about 2 ½ miles, seems to house a few morons. We hadn’t been here more than a couple of hours or so when Sheila noticed a boat drifting past us. Obviously nobody was on board and, quite naturally under the circumstances, it was pouring with rain, because we were the only other boaters around and, therefore, the job of pulling it in and mooring it up was down to us.
Quite obviously, since the boat had been secured with two hooks and a mooring pin, somebody had deliberately untied it. Equally obviously, since it was chucking it down by the bucket load, those responsible had not stayed around to observe the result. Which begs the question, if they were not around to laugh at whoever retrieved the boat and tied it up, what pleasure could they possibly have gained by untying it in the first place?
Ah well, such is human nature, I suppose!
I’ve not jumped on my soapbox for quite a while now, but I really couldn’t resist doing so here.
Is the American government paranoid or what? If you have read any of the daily papers today, especially the Daily Mail, you would have noticed the story about the autistic man whose extradition is being sought for allegedly hacking into US defence computers. Bear in mind this happened over seven years ago and, as anyone with any common sense can see – except the Americans of course – they are just making themselves a laughing stock around the world. What a coup for extremists, they must be having a good chuckle at the Yanks now that this story is headline news.
The American government are so paranoid that, not only do they want this believer in Little Green Men to stand trial in the States, they want him to serve about 60 years for this heinous crime. What they should really be doing is employing him as a computer security expert to ensure their systems are not broken into again. Beside, what possible use can be served by putting this unhappy individual in jail?
If anybody reading this agrees with me on this, simply go to the Daily Mail website and fill in their form. Our own government has no business extraditing any British citizen, to any other country, no matter what the crime. They should be tried here and serve their sentence here. Do the Yanks really think they own the world and can dictate to everyone living I it? The fact is, that for every US citizen extradited to the UK, two have gone the other way and stood trial in a US court. And, remember, the USA has six times the population of the UK.
Now, that’s what I call a fair extradition treaty!!
Enough said. Tomorrow we will, once again, enjoy a drink at the local watering hole. Hopefully we’ll be left in peace tonight and tomorrow night and not be set adrift by the Mindless Morons of the Llangollen Canal.
Monday 6th July 2009
And here we are at Wrenbury Mill, just around the corner to the Alvechurch Hire Boat Company, many of whose boats we have seen on our travels along the Llangollen. The plan is to stay here for the full 48 hours as allowed by BW then, on Wednesday, we’ll cruise to an out of the way spot until Thursday morning, when we’ll leave the Llangollen and get back onto the Shroppie.
Yesterday we paid a visit to the Willeymoor Lock pub and sat outside as time honoured gongoozlers. At the risk of repeating myself, this is the term used by seasoned boaters when referring to other folks who see boating as a spectator sport.
You may remember the last time we were there, that I commented on the peculiar taste of the Guinness at that pub. Now, I don’t know what causes the odd tang, but I suspect it has something to do with the cleaning fluid they use for the glasses. Either that or whatever they use to clean the beer pipes through. Whatever it is it’s not so powerful as to completely ruin the taste of the beer, but it is a nuisance all the same. Needless to say, if we ever pass through this canal again, we’ll stop further up and sample the beer at The Horse and Jockey.
When we set out in April we knew we would be doing the Llangollen and Mongomery canals but were unsure as to where we would be going after those. Well, now we know. According to the Oracle we’ll be going down the Andrton Lift, which joins the Trent and Mersey and the River Weaver. We really didn’t have the time last year but, since we don’t need to be at our new moorings until the end of September and, since they are only about 120 miles or so from here, we have plenty of time.
We’ll also return to the Bridgewater Canal and travel as far as Lymm, just to pass the time. Lymm has a really good bakery cum delicatessen and several pubs, one of which we’ll try to fit in. As you all know, apart from the ends of the Bridgewater, there are no locks to impede our travel and there are plenty of good moorings along the way.
Friday 10th July 2009
I have totally overlooked anything to do with this blog since Monday. As I recall, we had left Willeymoor Lock and made our way to Wrenbury Mill, which is where most of the hire boats on the Llangollen come from. Not a lot happened during our overnight stay there, other than Wifey walking into the village for a bit of shopping. One thing I do remember is the heavy rain during the night, heavy enough to wake me up and that’s for sure.
By the next morning it was dry enough to get moving again and we made it to Halls Lane Bridge, which is a place we moored up at on the way up the canal. It’s nicely out in the open countryside and very peaceful. Unfortunately no pubs around, at least, none that I could possibly walk to, which is one good reason for having my knees sorted out. I’m also missing out on loads of interesting places to visit. It’s all well and good cruising all these waterways but, if you can’t take a stroll into the nearest town or village, quite a bit of te enjoyment is lost.
On Wednesday we made our way to Barbridge, only this time we decided to stop opposite the Old Barbridge Inn, which is a pub we visited about 15 years ago and had promised ourselves another visit. Here we enjoyed a baguette and a drink. The only problem with mooring along that particular stretch, is the ledge that runs along the towpath side. It’s too deep for a fender to rest against, and it’s too shallow for the boat to drift over. Consequently, when moored up there is a gap of about four inches between the boat and the towpath. With the best will in the world it’s impossible to tie up in such a way as to prevent the boat from banging against the ledge every time another boat passes.
We stayed at Barbridge for an extra night so as to take the bus into Nantwich for a humungous shopping trip. I could have let Sheila go on her own but, as sure as eggs is eggs, she would come back with a trolly and two bags full and be completely knackered. We called into the town last year, but we didn’t have bus passes then and, having taken the bus from the Nantwich moorings, it cost us about £2.00 each. From Barbridge it’s a much longer ride, so I hate to think what that would have cost.
Thursday nights at The Old Barbridge Inn are supposed to be live music nights but, apart from a bit of loud juke box music around 6 o/clock, we heard nothing out of the ordinary. This may be because the pub is up for sale and the live music has been suspended until a new manager takes over. Whatever the reason, we had a peaceful evening and, once again, the whole stretch of canal was chock full of boats. Is it summer or something? I heard on the radio that some schools have already broken up, that can’t be right surely? Perhaps it’s just the senior pupils who have finished their GCSE’s?
It’s now Friday and we are, once again, miles from nowhere and just a couple of miles from Middlewich. Hopefully, assuming the weather forecasters are wrong and it doesn’t rain tomorrow, we’ll make it to the Trent and Mersey where, it just so happens, there is more than one pub. That depends upon another unknown quantity, Wifey. She just might want to go on from there and be nearer to our next big stopping point, The Anderton Lift and the River Weaver. I can’t say I’m that keen on rivers, not after our escapade on the Soar in 2007 but, hopefully, we won’t be subjected to floods this time.
Actually our new and permanent moorings are very close to Kegworth, which is where we spent 10 days in the flood lock. Fortunately the marina is on a short stretch of canal that connects to the Soar through a lock, so it is not prone to flooding. Hallelujah to that!
Saturday 11th July 2009
And that pesky starter motor has come back to haunt me! Over the past few days the engine has refused to start without a kick up the starter motor with a 4 lb sledge hammer. This takes us back to late in our cruise last year. At the time all I could think of to do, was to check out all the wiring associated with the SM and, lo and behold, it continued working for a few weeks. Eventually we called in River Canal Rescue but, as was the case when I was a TV engineer, they never go wrong when you want them to.
It seems we’re back to square one again and, if I don’t improve matters tomorrow morning, without the aforementioned fine tuning, then the Anderton Lift and River Weaver are out of the equation. Getting ourselves stranded somewhere along about 25 miles of river will not be much fun.
But, I digress, we left our moorings on the Middlewich Branch this morning around 8 o/clock. We were expecting rain, because that’s what we were told by the nice weather lady yesterday evening, but it was not forthcoming. Instead, although cloudy, it’s been pleasantly warm. So, we stopped at Middlewich for Wifey to go shopping and I stayed home to take care of the pooch.
Fortunately she took her mobile with her, otherwise there’s no telling if or when she was likely to return. When she did phone it was to ask me for directions back to the boat. Now, we were moored between two bridges, the roads over which would both take her into town. Unfortunately, after turning right out of Tesco, she walked past the turning that would have brought her back to the canal.
Being the kind and caring husband that I am, once she’d told me where she was heading for, I walked back to the bridge I expected her to appear from. But, as you would expect, as with any good sit-com, she appeared from the opposite direction. What would I do without her to give me the occasional chuckle?
Eventually we got moving again and finally, after five locks and as many miles, we pulled in just opposite a pretty little mooring spot that we used last year. The area I’m talking about has been cleared and had proper moorings put in by a boat club about three miles away. Today, it seems, they’re having a little get together because, where there is barely enough room for three boats to moor, there are now four, with one boat doubled up with another.
Tomorrow, with luck and a tail wind, and assuming the rain doesn’t come later than forecast, we’ll move on to the nearest pub, which is the Old Broken Cross. If we’re not impressed with that, we’ll move on to The Salt Barge at Marston, which is a pub we stopped at last year. At the time it was the currant licensee’s last day, so all beer was half price. But first I’ve got to have a go at the starter motor.
Lucky old me, we’re in the middle of nowhere and I’ve managed to get online, so I’ll post this blog.
Cheers me dears.
Dave, Sheila and Rusty.
Friday, 3 July 2009
Llangollen to Whitchurch
Monday 23rd June 2009
Good morning and welcome to a new blog where we are moored at Llangollen.
There’s one in every walk of life, yes, even in the boating fraternity. The boat moored in front of us is an ex-holiday boat of about 60 foot in length. The owner of that boat is, in my considered opinion, a bit of a pillock, and this is why.
As you may remember me mentioning many blogs ago, the official times for the running of engines, especially when closely moored by other boats, is between the hours of 08.00 and 20.00. In English money that’s between 8 am and 8 pm. Last night this idiot chose to light his fire at 8.45 pm. Despite totally blanking me when I asked him, very politely, to turn it off, he did so within a few minutes.
Hallelujah, we thought, he’s got the message. Wrong! This morning at 04.45, yes, a quarter to five in the morning, he switched the damn thing on again. After quickly dressing and going out to thump on his back dooe a few times, he turned it off.
It’s now 09.15 and, so far, he’s not bothered to run his engine and, more importantly from our point of view, shows no signs of moving on. So, I have two choices here, I can have a word with the BW man and hope he can persuade this twerp to abide by the rules, or, more sensibly, move our boat down to the basin. I’ll let you know later what we decide.
Meanwhile I’ve now decided to stop adding recipes to my book. At the last count I’d covered 41 counties and have 338 recipes. I think that’s probably enough to be getting on with. However, before I go ahead and publish it online, I think I should probably take legal advice regarding copyright issues. I have already discovered that recipe ingredients cannot be copyrighted. But, and it’s a big but, there is some question regarding the method by which the dish is put together. So, if anyone reading this can make any suggestions, perhaps you could get in touch via my Yahoo address at sparkyvox@yahoo.co.uk.
Wednesday 24th June 2009
What a day! As is usual for us, we thought we’d try to make an early start this morning. But, there we were, at 6 o/clock, still in bed, and already there had been nine boat movements. No doubt some had come past us from the basin, but others had come from behind us and simply gone down to the basin to turn around.
At this point then it seemed pointless trying to get ahead of the crowd, they’d already beaten us to it. By 7.30 we had the engine running and were ready to go, but other boaters had other ideas. Queuing up on a canal is no different than queuing up at a bus stop, you simply have to wait your turn.
Now, in addition to the two narrow stretches of 300 metres and 500 metres, which lead down to the wharf, there’s another, much shorter stretch that leads down to the basin, and this is what causes all the hold ups when trying to leave. By the time we had finally made it down to the basin and back again it was 8 30 am.
With the two aforementioned narrow sections still to negotiate, we finally made it to the Pontsycyllte Aqueduct, which is when our second problem began. We now found ourselves behind not one but two slow going boats. Both were holiday boats, one of which was a day boat, and they are never in much of a hurry. We eventually made the six miles to our moorings, just before Whitehouse Tunnel, in three and a half hours, by which time we were suffering a severe lack of patience with all forms of holiday makers.
However, as with yesterday, it’s been a glorious day for cruising. In my misspent youth I really enjoyed the hot weather. Whilst serving with the RAF in the late 60’s I spent two years on the Mediterranean Island of Malta and, as anybody who’s spent any time there will tell you, not a cloud blots the sky from April to October. I’d only been there a couple of months before being spoken to in Maltese, because my tan was so dark I was taken for a local. Sadly I no longer enjoy the heat as much. I would guess that this is probably because I’m well overweight. In mitigation I have to fall back on the dodgy knees, which restrict my efforts at any kind of exercise. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it, so there!
Tomorrow we have Whitehouse Tunnel, Chirk Tunnel and Chirk Aqueduct to negotiate before we moor up by Gledrig Bridge and lunch at The Poachers Pocket pub.
Sunday 28 June 2009
Good morning to you all from Maesbury Marsh on the Montgomery Canal on this, our 29th wedding anniversary and Wifey’s birthday, which we intend celebrating at the Navigation Inn, which is just across the bridge. Actually the full name of this pub is The Navigation Inn and Warehouse and that’s because part of it was once a canal-side warehouse, the pub being 18th C, whilst the warehouse dates from 1796. This is quite a big pub, with tall ceilings that you would expect from the Victorian period and, in fact, part of it is also a cottage, which was knocked through to complete the job. Quite impressive, I have to say, having enjoyed a lunchtime snack there yesterday whilst we booked our lunch for today.
Now, I’ve written nothing to this blog since last Wednesday, so I’d better catch up.
Well, according to my diary and my text messages to you lot, we were at St. Martins Moor on the Llangollen. On the towpath side of the canal is a large area of grassland, which is the moor itself and which is accessed through a steel gate. About a half mile beyond the canal is the town after which the moor is named. We pulled in to the moorings which; like all moorings along this canal, are proper ones with mooring rings; about 09.30 when it was absolutely deserted and peaceful. However, as you would expect, it didn’t take long for other boats to join us. I’m pleased to say they weren’t all rowdy holiday makers.
On Friday morning, bright and early, we made our way to the Montgomery Canal. Unfortunately, due in part to continuing restoration work being carried out further along the canal, only six boats are allowed to pass through the Frankton Locks on any one day, and they have to be booked in before 10.00 am. Once again we were the first to arrive and, just like those who followed, we then had to kick our heels until midday, which is when the nice BW man comes along and unlocks the locks. He also oversees the operation of the locks so as to ensure only the minimum amount of water runs through them. It seems that, whilst restoration work is still ongoing, there is a serious risk of disruption to local wildlife should the flow of water become excessive.
The rules concerning the number of boats allowed through are very strictly enforced, as one pair of holiday boaters were to discover. No amount of wheedling or cajoling, either to the lock operator or by mobile phone to his office, was going to change that. So, they were sent packing until next year, at which time I’m pretty sure they would be bringing along a new addition to the family.
About half a mile below the locks is a water point and mooring area called the Weston Branch, which is where we pulled in for the rest of the day and night. The total run to Maesbury Marsh is just six miles, plus another mile to the turning point at Crofts Mill Lift Bridge and, having been warned that, due to speed restrictions along certain stretches of the canal, the journey would take a further 4 ½ hours, we decided to leave it until Saturday morning. This had a dual effect in that we would be able to undertake most of the trip without meeting other boats along the way.
And so it came to pass that the good ship Shiralee set sail at 08.00 on Saturday morning. But first we had to top up with water. As predicted by Mr. BW, it took us just about 4 ½ hours, including the turn around and return to Maesbury Marsh. Certain parts of the canal have lower speed restrictions than other canals, some of which are down to 3 mph, whilst others are set at 2 mph.
The total length down to Newtown is not far short of 35 miles, and there are two other sections that have now been restored. Now, since most, if not all of the canal is designated a wildlife sanctuary, the conservationists are, quite rightly, concerned about keeping the disruption to a minimum whilst restoration work is carried out. Hence the speed restrictions and the sheer wildness of the seven mile stretch to Maesbury Marsh. When we first travelled down the Aylesbury Arm of the GUC, we were amazed to find a stretch of about a mile that appeared to be very narrow due to canal side reed growth, but that has nothing on this stretch of the Montgomery, and it’s virtually the same length.
Once the canal is fully restored, which could take a few years yet and uses volunteer labour for much of the work, it will certainly be worth another visit. Hopefully the speed restrictions will be lifted by then.
Tomorrow morning, hopefully as early as seven o/clock, we’ll be making our way back to Frankton Locks and the Llangollen Canal. We would hope to be first in line, as we were on the way down, but we have no idea how many boats are ahead of us at Queens Head, which is about two miles ahead. Even so, whatever happens, we won’t be out of this canal until well past midday, so we’ll be pulling in as soon as we can.
Wednesday 1st July 2009
On Monday we did indeed leave Maesbury Marsh early, at 06.45, so as to be one of the first to arrive at the bottom of Frankton Locks. It can take a while to pass through the four locks because the top two are in a staircase arrangement and the bottom two only have a short pound between them. If the water level is not controlled properly then those pounds can become very shallow and boats can ground. Which is why a lock keeper takes care of procedings.
As expected and despite our early departure, there was already another boat waiting to go through, but that had been there all night. Under normal circumstances only six boats are allowed through in any one day, but there are only moorings at the bottom to accommodate three, which makes little sense to me. Anyway, between 2 pm the previous day and 12 noon the current day, the water level still has to be controlled and that control is apparent by the bubbling and gurgling water at the bottom. This bubbling and gurgling is not very loud, at least not during the daytime when there is plenty of other sound around to muffle it somewhat. However, during the night, as the overnight boater will confirm, it’s a different story. He and his wife were more than happy when the locks finally opened.
We stayed at the top lock on Monday night and moved down to Ellesmere on Tuesday morning, for the most part in the rain. This was not unwelcome because, much like the rest of the UK, we’ve had some pretty hot and stifling weather, which I do not enjoy. However, even though the rain has a cooling effect, albeit temporarily, it’s no fun cruising in it. And besides, my so-called shower-proof jacket is not up to the job and never has been. Just how these outdoor clothing suppliers get away with selling these things, at such exorbitant prices, is beyond me.
Yesterday we again paid a visit to the town of Ellesmere for shopping. It was still raining but, what the heck, we took a brolly with us, so there! It wasn’t my intention to visit any of the pubs there but, needs must when the devil drives, as they say. As a fully registered diabetic I am well aware of the dangers of hot weather. During such time the body uses Insulin much faster but, as I’m never prepared for such eventualities, and as I started feeling a little peculiar just as we arrived opposite the Black Lion pub, I left Wifey to continue shopping whilst I popped in for a bite to eat. Naturally this was accompanied by a packet of Bacon Fries and a packet of crisps. This combination did the trick, but it took several minutes for me to cool down and feel normal. The Stella Artois, which accompanied the snacks was, I felt, absolutely essential because, although I thought it was a problem with Insulin, I could have been wrong as it may well have been a touch of heat exhaustion. Covering both bases seemed perfectly logical to me.
Today we’re leaving a little later than normal because we have to call in at the marina next door for a pump-out, diesel and a gas bottle. I’m not sure where we’re stopping for the night but, as usual, you’ll know just as soon as I do.
Friday 3rd July 2009
Thankfully the weather has changed, well, thankfully from my point of view. As a young man, serving Queen and Country, I thoroughly enjoyed the hot weather and, believe me, for the two years I spent in Malta with the RAF, the summers were pretty hot. Today though is cloudy, somewhat cooler, although still humid, and it’s raining. Wifey has gone shopping and the nearest shop here at Whichurch, without going into town, is a good walk away, so she’ll probably come back looking like a drowned rat. We bought a couple of so-called “shower-proof” jackets in Aylesbury some time ago. What a joke! In any kind of sustained rain, even if it’s light, the water soon finds its way underneath.
Anyway, having spent Wednesday night besides Blakes Mere, which is just outside Ellesmere, we moved on to Port Whixall on Thursday morning. Although it’s not shown on the map, this is between bridges 43 and 44 and is a designated mooring spot. The attraction for boaters is the Shop in the Garden, which borders onto the canal towpath. Part of the house has been turned over to a small grocery store and sells cakes and pies along with bread, milk and other such things. The gardens are quite extensive and well cared for and it’s one of the prettiest places along the Llangollen.
Now, having managed at last to get online, which I haven’t been able to do for quite some time, I’ll post this blog.
Have a good weekend folks.
Until next time.
Luv and stuff from Dave, Sheila and Rusty, our trusty hound.
Monday 23rd June 2009
Good morning and welcome to a new blog where we are moored at Llangollen.
There’s one in every walk of life, yes, even in the boating fraternity. The boat moored in front of us is an ex-holiday boat of about 60 foot in length. The owner of that boat is, in my considered opinion, a bit of a pillock, and this is why.
As you may remember me mentioning many blogs ago, the official times for the running of engines, especially when closely moored by other boats, is between the hours of 08.00 and 20.00. In English money that’s between 8 am and 8 pm. Last night this idiot chose to light his fire at 8.45 pm. Despite totally blanking me when I asked him, very politely, to turn it off, he did so within a few minutes.
Hallelujah, we thought, he’s got the message. Wrong! This morning at 04.45, yes, a quarter to five in the morning, he switched the damn thing on again. After quickly dressing and going out to thump on his back dooe a few times, he turned it off.
It’s now 09.15 and, so far, he’s not bothered to run his engine and, more importantly from our point of view, shows no signs of moving on. So, I have two choices here, I can have a word with the BW man and hope he can persuade this twerp to abide by the rules, or, more sensibly, move our boat down to the basin. I’ll let you know later what we decide.
Meanwhile I’ve now decided to stop adding recipes to my book. At the last count I’d covered 41 counties and have 338 recipes. I think that’s probably enough to be getting on with. However, before I go ahead and publish it online, I think I should probably take legal advice regarding copyright issues. I have already discovered that recipe ingredients cannot be copyrighted. But, and it’s a big but, there is some question regarding the method by which the dish is put together. So, if anyone reading this can make any suggestions, perhaps you could get in touch via my Yahoo address at sparkyvox@yahoo.co.uk.
Wednesday 24th June 2009
What a day! As is usual for us, we thought we’d try to make an early start this morning. But, there we were, at 6 o/clock, still in bed, and already there had been nine boat movements. No doubt some had come past us from the basin, but others had come from behind us and simply gone down to the basin to turn around.
At this point then it seemed pointless trying to get ahead of the crowd, they’d already beaten us to it. By 7.30 we had the engine running and were ready to go, but other boaters had other ideas. Queuing up on a canal is no different than queuing up at a bus stop, you simply have to wait your turn.
Now, in addition to the two narrow stretches of 300 metres and 500 metres, which lead down to the wharf, there’s another, much shorter stretch that leads down to the basin, and this is what causes all the hold ups when trying to leave. By the time we had finally made it down to the basin and back again it was 8 30 am.
With the two aforementioned narrow sections still to negotiate, we finally made it to the Pontsycyllte Aqueduct, which is when our second problem began. We now found ourselves behind not one but two slow going boats. Both were holiday boats, one of which was a day boat, and they are never in much of a hurry. We eventually made the six miles to our moorings, just before Whitehouse Tunnel, in three and a half hours, by which time we were suffering a severe lack of patience with all forms of holiday makers.
However, as with yesterday, it’s been a glorious day for cruising. In my misspent youth I really enjoyed the hot weather. Whilst serving with the RAF in the late 60’s I spent two years on the Mediterranean Island of Malta and, as anybody who’s spent any time there will tell you, not a cloud blots the sky from April to October. I’d only been there a couple of months before being spoken to in Maltese, because my tan was so dark I was taken for a local. Sadly I no longer enjoy the heat as much. I would guess that this is probably because I’m well overweight. In mitigation I have to fall back on the dodgy knees, which restrict my efforts at any kind of exercise. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it, so there!
Tomorrow we have Whitehouse Tunnel, Chirk Tunnel and Chirk Aqueduct to negotiate before we moor up by Gledrig Bridge and lunch at The Poachers Pocket pub.
Sunday 28 June 2009
Good morning to you all from Maesbury Marsh on the Montgomery Canal on this, our 29th wedding anniversary and Wifey’s birthday, which we intend celebrating at the Navigation Inn, which is just across the bridge. Actually the full name of this pub is The Navigation Inn and Warehouse and that’s because part of it was once a canal-side warehouse, the pub being 18th C, whilst the warehouse dates from 1796. This is quite a big pub, with tall ceilings that you would expect from the Victorian period and, in fact, part of it is also a cottage, which was knocked through to complete the job. Quite impressive, I have to say, having enjoyed a lunchtime snack there yesterday whilst we booked our lunch for today.
Now, I’ve written nothing to this blog since last Wednesday, so I’d better catch up.
Well, according to my diary and my text messages to you lot, we were at St. Martins Moor on the Llangollen. On the towpath side of the canal is a large area of grassland, which is the moor itself and which is accessed through a steel gate. About a half mile beyond the canal is the town after which the moor is named. We pulled in to the moorings which; like all moorings along this canal, are proper ones with mooring rings; about 09.30 when it was absolutely deserted and peaceful. However, as you would expect, it didn’t take long for other boats to join us. I’m pleased to say they weren’t all rowdy holiday makers.
On Friday morning, bright and early, we made our way to the Montgomery Canal. Unfortunately, due in part to continuing restoration work being carried out further along the canal, only six boats are allowed to pass through the Frankton Locks on any one day, and they have to be booked in before 10.00 am. Once again we were the first to arrive and, just like those who followed, we then had to kick our heels until midday, which is when the nice BW man comes along and unlocks the locks. He also oversees the operation of the locks so as to ensure only the minimum amount of water runs through them. It seems that, whilst restoration work is still ongoing, there is a serious risk of disruption to local wildlife should the flow of water become excessive.
The rules concerning the number of boats allowed through are very strictly enforced, as one pair of holiday boaters were to discover. No amount of wheedling or cajoling, either to the lock operator or by mobile phone to his office, was going to change that. So, they were sent packing until next year, at which time I’m pretty sure they would be bringing along a new addition to the family.
About half a mile below the locks is a water point and mooring area called the Weston Branch, which is where we pulled in for the rest of the day and night. The total run to Maesbury Marsh is just six miles, plus another mile to the turning point at Crofts Mill Lift Bridge and, having been warned that, due to speed restrictions along certain stretches of the canal, the journey would take a further 4 ½ hours, we decided to leave it until Saturday morning. This had a dual effect in that we would be able to undertake most of the trip without meeting other boats along the way.
And so it came to pass that the good ship Shiralee set sail at 08.00 on Saturday morning. But first we had to top up with water. As predicted by Mr. BW, it took us just about 4 ½ hours, including the turn around and return to Maesbury Marsh. Certain parts of the canal have lower speed restrictions than other canals, some of which are down to 3 mph, whilst others are set at 2 mph.
The total length down to Newtown is not far short of 35 miles, and there are two other sections that have now been restored. Now, since most, if not all of the canal is designated a wildlife sanctuary, the conservationists are, quite rightly, concerned about keeping the disruption to a minimum whilst restoration work is carried out. Hence the speed restrictions and the sheer wildness of the seven mile stretch to Maesbury Marsh. When we first travelled down the Aylesbury Arm of the GUC, we were amazed to find a stretch of about a mile that appeared to be very narrow due to canal side reed growth, but that has nothing on this stretch of the Montgomery, and it’s virtually the same length.
Once the canal is fully restored, which could take a few years yet and uses volunteer labour for much of the work, it will certainly be worth another visit. Hopefully the speed restrictions will be lifted by then.
Tomorrow morning, hopefully as early as seven o/clock, we’ll be making our way back to Frankton Locks and the Llangollen Canal. We would hope to be first in line, as we were on the way down, but we have no idea how many boats are ahead of us at Queens Head, which is about two miles ahead. Even so, whatever happens, we won’t be out of this canal until well past midday, so we’ll be pulling in as soon as we can.
Wednesday 1st July 2009
On Monday we did indeed leave Maesbury Marsh early, at 06.45, so as to be one of the first to arrive at the bottom of Frankton Locks. It can take a while to pass through the four locks because the top two are in a staircase arrangement and the bottom two only have a short pound between them. If the water level is not controlled properly then those pounds can become very shallow and boats can ground. Which is why a lock keeper takes care of procedings.
As expected and despite our early departure, there was already another boat waiting to go through, but that had been there all night. Under normal circumstances only six boats are allowed through in any one day, but there are only moorings at the bottom to accommodate three, which makes little sense to me. Anyway, between 2 pm the previous day and 12 noon the current day, the water level still has to be controlled and that control is apparent by the bubbling and gurgling water at the bottom. This bubbling and gurgling is not very loud, at least not during the daytime when there is plenty of other sound around to muffle it somewhat. However, during the night, as the overnight boater will confirm, it’s a different story. He and his wife were more than happy when the locks finally opened.
We stayed at the top lock on Monday night and moved down to Ellesmere on Tuesday morning, for the most part in the rain. This was not unwelcome because, much like the rest of the UK, we’ve had some pretty hot and stifling weather, which I do not enjoy. However, even though the rain has a cooling effect, albeit temporarily, it’s no fun cruising in it. And besides, my so-called shower-proof jacket is not up to the job and never has been. Just how these outdoor clothing suppliers get away with selling these things, at such exorbitant prices, is beyond me.
Yesterday we again paid a visit to the town of Ellesmere for shopping. It was still raining but, what the heck, we took a brolly with us, so there! It wasn’t my intention to visit any of the pubs there but, needs must when the devil drives, as they say. As a fully registered diabetic I am well aware of the dangers of hot weather. During such time the body uses Insulin much faster but, as I’m never prepared for such eventualities, and as I started feeling a little peculiar just as we arrived opposite the Black Lion pub, I left Wifey to continue shopping whilst I popped in for a bite to eat. Naturally this was accompanied by a packet of Bacon Fries and a packet of crisps. This combination did the trick, but it took several minutes for me to cool down and feel normal. The Stella Artois, which accompanied the snacks was, I felt, absolutely essential because, although I thought it was a problem with Insulin, I could have been wrong as it may well have been a touch of heat exhaustion. Covering both bases seemed perfectly logical to me.
Today we’re leaving a little later than normal because we have to call in at the marina next door for a pump-out, diesel and a gas bottle. I’m not sure where we’re stopping for the night but, as usual, you’ll know just as soon as I do.
Friday 3rd July 2009
Thankfully the weather has changed, well, thankfully from my point of view. As a young man, serving Queen and Country, I thoroughly enjoyed the hot weather and, believe me, for the two years I spent in Malta with the RAF, the summers were pretty hot. Today though is cloudy, somewhat cooler, although still humid, and it’s raining. Wifey has gone shopping and the nearest shop here at Whichurch, without going into town, is a good walk away, so she’ll probably come back looking like a drowned rat. We bought a couple of so-called “shower-proof” jackets in Aylesbury some time ago. What a joke! In any kind of sustained rain, even if it’s light, the water soon finds its way underneath.
Anyway, having spent Wednesday night besides Blakes Mere, which is just outside Ellesmere, we moved on to Port Whixall on Thursday morning. Although it’s not shown on the map, this is between bridges 43 and 44 and is a designated mooring spot. The attraction for boaters is the Shop in the Garden, which borders onto the canal towpath. Part of the house has been turned over to a small grocery store and sells cakes and pies along with bread, milk and other such things. The gardens are quite extensive and well cared for and it’s one of the prettiest places along the Llangollen.
Now, having managed at last to get online, which I haven’t been able to do for quite some time, I’ll post this blog.
Have a good weekend folks.
Until next time.
Luv and stuff from Dave, Sheila and Rusty, our trusty hound.
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