History

After several holidays in hire boats, we were keen to take the next step and buy a boat of our own. We thought it would be many years before we could afford it, perhaps by way of a timeshare first. However in 2017 my mother Eileen Secker sadly died at the age of 89. Her legacy enabled us to think about getting our dream boat straight away, and after flirting with the idea of a new build we decided to find a second-hand one which suited us, and where someone more experienced had made sensible choices. Eventually we found the Silver Kroner, bought her and renamed her in honour of Eileen, who would have very much enjoyed the joke embodied in the name.

Sunday, 21 October 2018

Look before you leap


After our epic dash yesterday we had earned ourselves a leisurely start today, with not too far to go to reach home. Even the dogs seemed to realise this, and for the first time ever we were woken by the alarm at 7:45. It was another lovely day, and after breakfast we took the dogs for a walk down to the Bollin, where as usual Bridget chased at least 20 sticks (actually the same stick 20 times) into the fast flowing water. It doesn’t bother her at all, she seems to be excited by the moving water. The other Labradors got thoroughly wet too, and even Ruby toddled down the steep paths and back up again with no complaints.
Mooring at the Bollin Aqueduct again
We got under way at about 11:15, but within a mile we came to the Old Number 3 moorings, and the water point was free, so we decided to stop and fill the tank. There is a small group of about half a dozen boats there, and while we were filling up a supply boat arrived. This sails up and down the Bridgewater, providing coal, Calor gas and diesel – they have a little pump on the deck.
Workboat near the Old No 3
Soddum Hall



Water point at the Old No 3
When we had finished I took Loulie and the dogs across to the towpath side, and they got off for a walk. As I was slowly following them, the bow thruster suddenly started running, without me operating the controls. It kept running, with a loud howl, and it was forcing the bows to port across the canal. I reversed to bring the stern to the other bank, but we were now right across the canal with the bows up against a moored boat on the other side. I hurried along the side deck to the bows, opened the hatch to the thruster compartment, and turned the isolator switch. Fortunately I knew where this is – it is really for use when you are working on the motor, to isolate it and avoid any risk of shocks, but it came in handy to kill the motor in an emergency. Once I got the boat back in line and on the towpath side I had a look for any obvious faults but I could see nothing, and closing the isolator led to the motor starting up madly once more, so I left it off. The control panel on the poop rail shows that the motor is off, so I suspect now some fault at that end of the circuit.
Walking the dogs

Meeting a Jack Russell

Hesford Marine uses a beached boat as an office



At Oughtrington there is a bizarre collection of canal-side paraphernalia
I collected the girls and we went on into Lymm, where we moored for lunch, which I bought from a local bakery, hot sausage rolls and pies, very nice. After that we sailed on, under bright sunshine and with no wind, a great contrast to the gales and pouring rain we suffered going the other way last week.



At Thelwall we caught up with the supply boat again

Each time we pass Thelwall this cruiser has sunk a little further
We decided that Loulie would take the dogs back to the house up Keckwick Lane, so we could unload at the marina in peace. So I came in to the bank opposite the Daresbury labs, just under the bridge. However I was a little too impatient, and instead of reversing fully into the bank I jumped across the gap with the rope, to pull us in. However, rather like Loulie on the Home Run, my foot landed on a grass overhang, and slipped off. I might have got away with a wet foot if I had let go of the rope and used both hands, but I was determined to hold on and I slipped in entirely. Still holding the rope I swam a few strokes to catch up with the boat, which now stopped, bows to the bank, and then went to the bank and stood up in the water. The Bridgewater, unlike the Shropshire Union, has deep vertical banks, and I was about chest deep, and the towpath was at head height. I had a bit of a struggle to clamber out, because of the weight of water in my clothes and especially my shoes.

I still had the rope in my hand, so I pulled the boat in to the bank, as a large pool of water grew around my feet. Loulie was still on the stern deck with the dogs – she was trying not to laugh, they were wondering why Daddy was allowed to go for a swim while they had to stay dry. We now reverted to Plan A, she took the dogs home while I had a shower in the boat and a complete change of clothes. I then sailed down to the marina, where ironically I made a perfect entrance and moored on the dock with precision. I have been getting more confident with the navigation and manoeuvring during this holiday, and losing the bow thruster is not a problem, certainly when it’s calm. But I need to make the boat do more of the work, and not make up for a sloppy approach by jumping off and using physical force to pull her in.

So our journey to the deep North is over, and it’s been fun, and also an education. I doubt we will go down the Rufford branch until we are ready to cross the Ribble, but we certainly want to do the Liverpool Docks journey – we met several people who had done it and told us it was brilliant. The mooring near Gathurst was excellent, a lovely spot with an Indian takeaway in walking distance. We still need to find somewhere amenable to moor on the Leigh branch, otherwise we have to make the long dash through Manchester and Wigan on a single day. And we have also learned that there’s no diesel in Wigan, and that we should fill up whenever we get the chance.

Today: 5.5 hours. 13.3 miles. 0 locks. 0 bridges.
Voyage: 53.7 hours. 121.7 miles. 30 locks. 26 bridges.


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