Getting our own narrowboat has meant lots of changes and new
experiences in our lives. Who, for example, would have predicted that Loulie
would spend over an hour Googling to find out how much poo and other waste an
average human produces each day. The answer is approximately 10 litres, if you
need to know.
 |
Early Morning Train |
We were woken just before seven this morning, not by the
trains but by the first passing boat of the day. We were in a great spot for
the dogs, who could just be let off the boat with minimal supervision, and we
had the usual game of musical breakfasts. Posie and Bridget dive into their
food like Scooby-Doo with a plate of burgers, but Minnie is always slow, and
Ruby nibbles at hers and then goes to push Minnie away. Minnie happily eats
Ruby’s food, but at this point one or both of the Gobble twins finish theirs and
try to push in on the food that has not yet been eaten. Unless she is protected
Minnie will diffidently sneak off to see if there is anything left in any of
the other bowls. By the end each dog has usually sampled some or all of the
other bowls – except Bridget’s – nobody gets between Bridget and her food.
The stories of the day were Stoke, and Harecastle Tunnel.
After a single lock at Trentham we started to approach the city, and the nature
of the canal changed significantly. We went past a wagon works with hundreds of
pairs of railway wheels lined up, and an estate with light industrial businesses.
On either side there were high walls and fences, dilapidated and graffiti-covered,
and derelict buildings slowly succumbing to weeds and trees. In the centre of
Stoke the canal went up a flight of five steep locks, threading through canyons
of brick and concrete. The railway quite literally runs over the top of one of
the locks.
 |
Milepost in Stoke |
 |
Scenes along the Stoke canal |
At the top of the flight is Etruria Junction, where the Caldon
Canal takes off east towards Leek. But we had other things on our mind, as we
were looking for a pumpout station. We had noticed that the gauge on our waste
tank was above half way, having started at zero, so we probably would not make
it all the way home. There were a few pumpout locations marked on our maps, and
the first one was the Black Prince base at Festival Park Marina. We stopped,
but the one person there had just gone for his lunch, and there was another
boat already waiting, so we decided not to waste what might be a couple of
hours. We were told there was another place not far north so we pushed on.
We left central Stoke, and came to Middleport where there is
a pottery with an impressive bottle kiln, one of several which can still be
seen along the canal, although a century ago there were hundreds. This one was
hosting a travelling exhibition of the poppies which started out a few years
ago cascading down the side of the Tower of London. In this case they were in a
stream down the side of the kiln – very impressive, though sadly we got only a
sudden glimpse and didn’t have time for any photos.
 |
Bottle Kilns - but no poppies |
After Middleford was Longford, where we pulled in again to
get a pumpout, but the guy there told us the machine was bust, and also told
us, with little obvious sympathy, that there wasn’t another one until the other
side of the tunnel.
The tunnel in question is the Harecastle, one of the wonders
of the canal network. It is nearly 3000 metres long, and takes forty minutes or
more to traverse, under the control of gatekeepers. As we approached it started
to rain heavily, and it took me a while to notice the keeper signalling me to
pull over on the “wrong” side as six boats were about to emerge. That meant
that I had to leap out hurriedly and rope her into the bank, against a squally
wind which had sprung up along with the driving rain. Happily Loulie had the
presence of mind to duck down into the dry cabin, from where she was able to
record my struggles.
 |
Boating in the rain |
Once the southbound convoy had emerged we were able to
start, but the keeper gave me a briefing first. The tunnel has a variable
profile, and gets very low near the middle, so people have hit their heads and
even been knocked off the boat. I was told to use a torch so I could see the
roof after the boat lights (in the bows) had passed, and Loulie was told to
keep checking I was still on the boat. The dogs had to stay below, and she
stayed with them, to avoid incessant barking.
To allow motor-powered boats to use it the tunnel now has a
forced draft ventilation. After you enter they close doors behind you and turn
on enormous fans which cause wind strong enough to make your eyes water. Of
course I was soaked through already, so it was a little chilly, to say the
least. Ahead is pitch black at first, beyond the range of your headlight, but
soon a tiny dot appears, and grows, very slowly. Every hundred metres there are
arrows on the walls, indicating the distance to the nearer exit, and it was
very discouraging, after what seemed like hours but was probably 10-15 minutes,
to see an arrow pointing backwards 1000m. You have to concentrate hard to keep
the boat in the middle – if you start to veer you either slide along the walls
or bounce from side to side. In the light of the torch there is a lot to see in
the tunnel – orange stalactites where water has seeped through the ironstone
rock, streams pouring out of holes in the wall, straps and supports to keep the
rock in place, and the abrupt changes in profile – I really did need to keep a
good lookout and duck at times.
 |
North exit from the Harecastle Tunnel |
 |
Mow Cop from the Red Bull locks |
We had reached our day’s target in Kidsgrove, but there was
no good overnight mooring, so we dropped down the three locks of the Red Bull
flight, with Mow Cop looking down on us, and we found a very snug mooring near the
village of Church Lawton. I took the dogs for a walk after supper, through a
field of maize. They loved charging through the crop, especially Bridget. You
couldn’t see her, but you could follow her progress by the noise, and by the
waving of the tops of the stalks as she rampaged through.
 |
Mooring near Church Lawton |
We are in a steep part of the canal, dropping down to the
Cheshire plain, the equivalent of Audlem and Adderley over on the Shroppie. Our
plan for tomorrow only covers five miles, but there will be twenty locks in
there. We hope to reward ourselves with a meal out in Wheelock.
 |
Why doesn't she hurry up and serve our supper? |
Today: 7 hours. 14 miles. 12 locks.
Voyage: 46.5 hours. 85.3 miles. 67 locks.
No comments:
Post a Comment