You shall not pass

Sunday 28th July

It rained very hard all night, loud enough on the roof to wake us several times, and it was forecast to carry on all day. We got ourselves organised and we were just feeding the dogs when a walker passing by mentioned that a boater around the corner was having trouble with the swing bridge, he couldn’t open it. As we were going to have to go that way, I walked down the towpath to see what was up.

I found a man and his wife, on the narrowboat Northgate. The bridge was jammed because the rain had washed a whole lot of gravel and small stones down the lane, and into the curved groove between the bridge body and the stone rim. This meant that we could not rotate the bridge, it wouldn’t budge. The man had already started to scrape and lever the stones out, using a screwdriver, but the gap was much deeper than the length of the screwdriver, and many of the stones seemed stuck fast anyway.

I went back to our boat to see if I could find anything longer, but the only item I found, a brush handle, was too wide to go into the slot. At that point I called CRT, who said someone would be along, and we went back to scraping.

The offending bridge (after fixing)

Over time we were joined by other boaters, and the CRT people came. They had a couple of long thin metal fence poles, the sort that have a loop at one end to take cord or wire, and we started prodding and scraping with them – they were at least long enough, but it was still tedious work. They went off to see if they could find a pressure hose, and our small but growing team continued – one guy found a bucket and start to use that to wash away the smaller stuff, which allowed the rest of us to see and move the bigger bits more easily. After about three hours chipping away like the Seven Dwarves we had got out enough stones to allow us to shift the thing, and we were on our way. In the end it was fun in an odd sense, like the challenges you get on a management training course – "with this limited choice of tools your team has to achieve the following objectives".

The start of the Macc

The rain hadn’t been too bad, but it picked up as we sailed back to Marple, and stopped to replenish our water. We only did that yesterday, but Loulie had done several loads of washing in the meantime. She got the machine, a little single tub, before this trip, so that we can be self-sustaining on longer journeys. She has to intervene manually more often than she does at home, but it works well, though it does use up a lot of our water.

Goyt Mill in Marple

Navigating in the pouring rain

When the water had been refilled we set off down the Macclesfield Canal, past a really large old building, Goyt Mill, the biggest we have seen since Manchester. It was really torrential now, and we were looking for a place to stop, but this is a busy canal with a lot of people moored in the good spots, and quite a bit of the towpath wall is collapsing, so you cannot moor. We went about four miles, through High Lane, and then in Higher Poynton we found a very nice mooring, with no-one close and shuttering to attach the mooring pins to. The only downside is that we have very poor internet signal, so I am writing this up offline to be posted when we reach civilisation.

Map at 28-7-19

TODAY: 4.75 HOURS. 6.9 MILES. 0 LOCKS. 2 BRIDGEs.

VOYAGE: 43.65 HOURS. 57.3 MILES. 43 LOCKS. 6 BRIDGES

Tough Locks, Spaniel Peril and Late Night Sailing

The dogs were a little earlier today, just after seven, but we had our usual leisurely start and did not get under way until after ten. The first task was the bridge beside which we had moored and then we headed north towards the end of the branch. At the next bridge, which also had the remains of an old lock, the nature of the canal changed. Apparently from this point on it follows the old course of the River Douglas – though the river itself still runs in its in its new course just to the east. The canal looks just like a river here, winding about between rushy banks, with no towpath at all.

Our mooring beside swing bridge 9

The canal near Tarleton looking more like a river.

After a couple of miles of this we came into Tarleton, the end of the line. We moored just short of a boatyard there, and walked with the dogs down to the end where a major lock gives access to the tidal Douglas, and thence to the Ribble. The engineering is on a much larger scale than the inland waterways locks we are used to, and it should be a dramatic trip when we finally make the crossing to the Lancaster Canal. Several of the craft moored around the end of the canal are clearly seagoing craft, yachts and small old-fashioned motor boats.

The final swing bridge just outside Tarleton.

Tarleton Lock, down into the tidal River Douglas and then to the Ribble.

There was no obvious winding hole, and I tried swinging the boat around where we were moored, but it was just too long. Happily a chap from another boat came along and told me there was a wider spot a little further down towards the end, so I motored down there and turned carefully. There was not much to spare, about six feet, and you certainly could not turn a 70’ boat there. But we were OK, and we set off back the way we had come.

Sheep watching us turn at Tarleton.

Some odd - and very tame - geese we encountered at a swing bridge

After we had passed last night's mooring Loulie took the dogs off for a walk, and I moored at a C&RT service area. This is unmanned, but your C&RT key allows access to a water point and rubbish skips, as well as toilets and showers. There is also a pump-out station, for which you need a prepaid card - fortunately we had bought one on our Home Run in August, so I went ahead and did my first solo pump-out, which actually went very well. We weren't anything close to full, but we were going to have to get it done some time on the voyage, so it was an opportune moment.

Our original plan was to go down the main line towards Liverpool for a bit, before turning for home, but as we worked our way up the Rufford locks it became clear that we would be struggling to get on to the main line at all, before dark. As we found yesterday the locks are very heavy, and all the padlocks and handcuff locks mean that you can waste ten minutes easily just opening and closing these security devices at each lock. We were also held up a bit when a man came to ask us if he could borrow our boathook to fish out a spaniel which had got into a sluice channel which runs around the lock, and couldn’t get out. He was just a passer-by himself, helping the two women who owned the spaniel. I went to look, and the dog was not in danger of drowning – the water was only about two feet deep, but it was down a steep overgrown bank, maybe ten feet high. And it did not want to be rescued – it kept dodging away from attempts to hook its collar. We tried offering it treats, and we were contemplating sending our Labradors down to show it how to get in and out, when it was finally hooked and dragged out, very muddy but otherwise unharmed and looking pleased with itself.

Yesterday we had help from C&RT volunteers at the three top locks, but by the time we arrived today they had gone home. The top lock itself has only one working sluice on the bottom gates, which Loulie was unable to work, so I had to get off to turn it. When Loulie was re-locking the handcuff on one of the upper sluices she dropped the handcuff key into the canal. We have a spare, but I decided to try out my fishing magnet, which I bought for just such an occasion. Rather to my surprise I lowered it into about four feet of water, and when I pulled it up, there was our key, nicely attached.

It was after 6pm when we worked our way out of the top lock, and we decided that we didn’t even have time to go to the shops. So we turned east on the main line, and in the gathering dusk started looking for somewhere to stop. This stretch of canal has inclined banks, not vertical, so there is an awkward shelf almost everywhere. After trying a couple of spots, and going through two more swing bridges, we finally had to settle for a mooring on a bend – not bad in most respects, except that we are three feet out from the bank. For the first time we have used the blue plank that we carry on the roof as a gangplank for humans – the dogs of course have their own which we use at every mooring. But the gap is too wide for us to jump reliably, especially in the dark, and Loulie is reluctant to reprise her triumphant dive into the Shropshire Union.

Late update - I spoke too soon. I took the dogs out for their final tiddles, with the three Labradors on leads so they can't run off - and all wearing their illuminated collars as well, in case they get loose. Ruby was not leaded up, she won't go far. So I walked up and down, and got them to do their business, and then persuaded them to walk back along the gangplank onto the boat - tricky because they have differing levels of confidence. Anyway I got all three down the stairs then turned to deal with Ruby. She had paused on the bank, between the two gangplanks, and then suddenly to my horror she gathered herself and jumped for the boat - falling short by a long margin. I reached forward and grabbed her collar as she went under, and dragged her up and eventually onto the boat, though she was wriggling and tangled in weed. At first she seemed reluctant to stand up and I thought she was seriously hurt, but in a minute or two she recovered, and indeed started to charge around the boat madly, wiping her ears on the blankets and clearly no worse for her third lifetime fall in the canal.

Today: 7 hours. 10.1 miles. 7 locks. 9 bridges.

Voyage: 31.5 hours. 63.9 miles. 22 locks. 16 bridges.

Branching Out

A few squawks from the pheasants overnight but they didn’t wake the dogs and once again we had a relative lie-in until 7:25. We made our usual leisurely start, with a walk for the dogs and then breakfast for us all, and we were under way by about 10:20. It was turning out to be a lovely day, typical for October actually, with bright sun that was almost hot, though late on the clear sky made for a cold evening.

Parbold Mill

Parbold Village

We quickly reached Parbold, a delightful village with a disused but well-preserved windmill, and a sharp bend in the canal. Here it was planned that the Leeds & Liverpool would strike out north west, cutting south of Preston and straight to Burnley. In the end it never happened, and the route loops south through Wigan and then back up to the north.

Spencers Swing Bridge, Burscough

Passing through the bridge

We had a couple of swing bridges to do before we reached Burscough, both automated, and no trouble for Loulie – the second one was very satisfying, with flashing lights, sirens and barriers dropping. We than reached a lovely arched bridge marking the entrance to the Rufford Branch.

Entrance to the Rufford Branch

The Rufford Branch takes the canal due north, to the estuary of the River Douglas, which in turn gives access to the Ribble. This route allows you to cross over to the Lancaster Canal near Preston, as that canal does not link up with any others in the network. You have to book ahead to make the crossing, which is done in a supervised convoy, and only in the weather and the tide are favourable. We are not going that way on this trip, though it is on the list.

As soon as we entered the branch we encountered the first lock, but fortunately there were also two C&RT volunteers, who helped through the first three on the way down. This was lucky, because the Rufford locks have a strange variety of mechanisms for the lock sluices, and in addition some of them are very stiff to work.After we had done those three we moored for lunch, and Loulie took the girls for a walk while I went into town for provisions (especially chocolate and wine).

After lunch we had four more locks to do, unaided, and these were tough. At one lock I had to work the sluice gear because Loulie simply could not move it. At another we thought for a time we would have to give up, as we could not work out how to unlock the C&RT padlocks, though eventually we did it. There are no instructions – you simply have to know how, or figure it out. We also came to three swing bridges, which are not powered on the Rufford. Again the toughest part for Loulie was operating the locking mechanism – swinging the bridge across was easier than moving a tough lock gate.

We had intended to go right to the end, to Tarleton Lock, which gives out to the tidal river, but we realised that we would be getting there as light was fading, and we weren’t sure we would get a good mooring. So we selected a good spot by swing bridge 9, with solid Armco on the bank – a lot of the banks on the Rufford are very weedy and overgrown – picturesque, but hard to moor against. We are near a village called Sollom, famous for racehorse training, and in the morning we will do the few miles down to Tarleton before turning back to tackle the locks again. We are moored in very flat land, getting down towards the Ribble, and quite like the Fylde to the north of the river – good rich soil with lots of drainage ditches. We had a lovely view from our window to the west, with the setting sun and the clear evening sky.

Today: 5.5 hours. 8.2 miles. 7 locks. 5 bridges.

Voyage: 24.5 hours. 53.8 miles. 15 locks. 7 bridges.

The Road to Wigan Pier

More adventures after I posted the blog last night, when I took the dogs out for their final tiddle. The three Labradors all ran off, and headed for the flashes – fortunately we have given them illuminated collars, so I could see which way they had gone, though they were soon out of sight. I grabbed Ruby and put her on board, then set off in pursuit. I had a head torch, but I was charging down hill over rough ground, and I was lucky to make it in one piece. Fortunately the dogs had stopped in the same bit of water they visited before, but they were reluctant to come back and in the end I had to grab Bridget and Posie by the collars and drag them home – happily Minnie tagged along.

So we got up this morning, not too early by dog standards (7:25) and this time they didn’t disappear entirely when let out. It’s nice to be able to let them run freely, we always try to find a mooring which will allow that. We only sailed for about five minutes once we set off, then stopped at Plank Lane lift bridge. We took on water, about 35 minutes, then went through the bridge. Loulie worked it – you have to put in the C&RT key, then press a button. Sirens come on, barriers drop to stop the traffic, and then the whole bridge lifts up to let the boat through. Afterwards you press another button to reverse the process.

After a few more miles we came to the first lock of the journey, at Poolstock on the edge of Wigan. This and the next one were very big and heavy to work, and we saw a notice telling us that some of the locks in Wigan would be padlocked at 3pm to save water, so we were under time pressure. We turned west on the Leeds & Liverpool main line in the centre of Wigan, and did a couple more locks – one of which had a winding handle instead of a long wooden beam to open the gates. We passed Wigan Pier – but most of the attractions seem abandoned now, and the pubs shut. The next lock was beside the DW Stadium, and the one after that was the last one under threat of closure, so we stopped and had a late lunch.

John and Dogs in a lock

Wigan Bottom Lock

Wigan Pier

DW Stadium

The transition after that point was quite dramatic, and suddenly we were in rural Lancashire – even if the M6 passed high overhead at one point. The canal winds down the valley of the River Douglas, with small villages and farms, and lots of woodland. We did one lock, Deans Lock, in the shadow of the motorway, and then drifted into Appley Bridge – well named, because Loulie had to work a swing bridge here. Unlike the lift bridge this is manual – she had to unlock the mechanism (the hardest part) and then use a long handle to pivot the bridge clear of the canal.

Gathurst

M6 at Gathurst

Loulie (and dogs) helming

Dean Locks

Douglas Valley

First Swing Bridge - Appley Bridge

Tired but happy dogs

Jigsaw picture?

Waterside trees in the October sun

Welcome to Lancashire - though we have been in the real Lancashire since Barton

Loulie took the dogs on another walk, and after a mile or so of winding along beside the river and railway we chose a mooring spot. Behind the towpath are woods, which seem to be full of pheasants, and Bridget had a bit of a time chasing them – without success, but with a great deal of noise. A man in a widebeam liveaboard moored on the other bank was very impressed by the dogs’ illuminated collars when I took them out for a walk later on.

Today: 6 hours. 12.5 miles. 8 locks. 2 bridges.

Voyage: 19 hours. 45.6 miles. 8 locks. 2 bridges.