Getting back on the grid

 Thursday 17^th September 2020

We needed to find a mooring with good mobile signal for the evening, because I had a Parish Council meeting to attend. However we needed to make a reasonable mileage, so that we would be in position to get home tomorrow (Friday). The signal is fairly poor all the way along the Middlewich Branch, until you reach the eponymous town itself, but we were unsure how slow we would find things through the locks. We didn’t make an early start – I went down into town to get a plant pot from M&S, because Loulie wanted to give it to a lady at NNC who has been very helpful to us over the years. In the end it was about 10 when we set off. 

These are very familiar waters to us by now, and we headed up to Barbridge Junction, then along the Branch. After our worries about queues at the locks, in the event we went straight into the first three; at Cholmondeston a man from the marina was working the lock as people passed through, and at the other two we got lucky by arriving just as boats were coming out, going the other way. Loulie got off with the dogs for a good walk around the middle of the Branch – it is very rural and quiet, with very few busy roads or other hazards in the way of dog walking. 

As we left Stanthorne lock another boat pulled out from the bank ahead of us, and we followed them down through Middlewich, with things becoming much slower. There was another boat waiting at Wardle lock, and others coming up, then on the triple flight we again encountered slow boaters who generally held things up.

Once down those locks we moored near the centre of town, so I could get on the bike and go to Morrisons for food. We then debated whether to go on down Big Lock, and I went ahead for a recce. It looked as though there was space in a spot we have noticed before, on the offside just below Big Lock, so we carried on and moored there. Although it is on the off side it is a CRT public mooring, beside some open green space, and we were able to squeeze on the end. It was great for walking the dogs, and since we were still inside the town boundaries the signal was great for my meeting.

 

TODAY: 7:00 HOURS. 14 MILES. 8 LOCKS.

Voyage: 87:25 HOURS. 157.7 MILES. 137 LOCKS.

Retracing our Steps

Tuesday 8^th September 2020

We had a big day planned today, in terms of miles at least, always looking to put ourselves in the right place on Friday morning for the big climb up 27 locks into Birmingham. Having taken advice from several people on narrowboat forums, the consensus seemed to be Curdworth, which is very close to the south end of the M6 Toll – although I had never noticed the canal in all the times I have driven that way. Counting back this meant that we would need to be well down the Coventry on Wednesday night, which in turn would require us to make good progress back towards Fradley Junction by this evening. The challenge is that once past Burton-Upon-Trent there is a long stretch of very unattractive canal for mooring, running alongside the A38, followed by the stretch of the Trent between Wychnor and Alweras. Alweras itself was probably going to have little free space, from what we saw going through a few days ago, and that meant that we would have to rely on finding a mooring in the short stretch between the end of Alweras and Fradley Junction. Even that would mean a journey of at least 20 miles, which is quite a lot in a day, especially factoring in a fair number of locks.

Consequently we got up early, fed the dogs and started our journey by half eight. Our first task was the two big double locks – Swarkstone and Stenson, at both of which we were on our own. Although you need to beware of getting stuck on the cill, in other respects going down a lock is easier than going up – the rush of water into the lock when the paddles are opened on the way up produces much stronger undertows and currents, and it is very hard to hold the boat steady and avoid crashing into one gate or the other. When we got to Stenson Loulie elected to get out with the windlass, rather than be left to rattle about in the lock.

After that we pushed on through Willington and on towards Burton. We were conscious that the dogs would need exercise, so after Willington Loulie got out and took them for a mile or so along the towpath, which here is well away from the A38 which shadows us all the way along this stretch. I picked them up soon after the canal had crossed the river Dove – the aqueduct we were on is about 250 years old, but it is modern by comparison with the old road bridge alongside, which was built by monks many centuries before the canal arrived.

The old monk's bridge over the River Dove

We travelled past Burton, with a single lock near the centre, and towards the far side we moored. Loulie took the dogs for another walk, and I went about half a mile to a Morrisons which I had spotted on the map, to replenish our supplies of food and wine – I had a heavy burden which I just managed to carry back to the boat. We carried on – three more locks took us down to the stretch alongside the A38, and then Wychnor Lock saw us back on the Trent. It now seems really very small, compared to its width down below Sawley.

Alweras Lock took us back on the canal, with evening approaching. As we had expected there was nowhere to moor at all, even though we are now getting quite used to mooring close to other boats. So we carried on up Bagnall Lock at the top of the village, into the short stretch before Common Lock, which marks the start of Fradley Junction. There were a couple of boats moored along there, and though the bank looked a bit soft we investigated and found a perfectly reasonable mooring, on pins, and exactly where we had wanted to be ready for the next adventure towards Brum.

Mooring below Fradley Junction

Mabel on the towpath

TODAY: 9:45 HOURS. 20.2 MILES. 9 LOCKS.

Voyage: 48:55 HOURS. 91.5 MILES. 55 LOCKS.

End of the Line

Monday 7^th September 2020

Our plan for today was to go down to Shardlow and on to the Trent, then go to look at the Shardlow marina where Loulie is thinking of holding her 60^th birthday event. We would then come back up the canal and start our journey back towards Fradley Junction and eventually Birmingham. Before we set off we fed the dogs and then took them for another walk down the cycle track towards the Trent, so that I could see it.

We got under way at about 9:15, and within a mile we reached the first of three locks before we get into Shardlow. As with the ones yesterday these locks are large with sharp undertows, though the final one, just above Shardlow, is relatively shallow. Having passed that one we proceeded slowly through Shardlow itself. This is very much a canal village, and unlike Preston Brook at the other end, the distinctive buildings, especially warehouses, have been retained, in some cases being converted into houses or flats. One house, with a long lawn bordering the canal, had a miniature railway track curving around it – the trains must have been inside their shed as we could not see them.

Final milepost at Shardlow

Flood control gates and warning lights

At the end of the village we passed through a set of flood gates – normally open, as they were today, but there for protection if the river rises. After passing a marina with a lot of moored boats, we went under bridge 1, the end of a sequence which started at bridge 213 up near Dutton. Just beyond that we came to the final lock which would let us down to the Trent. In this lock we were joined by another boat, Daedalus, a nice looking 70-footer with a tug bow, owned by a couple who spend the year aboard, though they have a house down in Essex. Having another boat made the lock more comfortable, though it was still difficult, with one of the paddles not working. We let them go ahead of us out of the lock, then followed them out onto the river.

This is a very different proposition from the narrow water we saw first up at Burston. After following a channel out of the lock for a few hundred yards you come to Derwent Mouth, effectively a crossroads. On your right the Trent itself flows in, and on the left the river Derwent emerges – this is a fair size, though not navigable by canal craft. Straight ahead the combined river flows downstream, and we followed it. It is now a hundred yards or more across, and flowing quite swiftly. We went under a substantial pipe bridge, which supplies water to the city of Leicester, and then under the M1 motorway. Just after that the river swung away to the left over a large weir, and we kept straight ahead into Sawley.

Derwent Mouth - the Trent coming in from the right

Looking up the Trent

Derwent Mouth - the river Derwent on the left

Following Daedalus towards the pipe bridge

Sawley, with a large marina and other moorings, sits on what is effectively a short stretch of canal, with the Trent looping around it to the north. At the top, where we went in, there is a flood lock, which is left open at normal times, so the water is at the same level as the river. At the other end there is a lock, manned by lock keepers and worked by machinery, which lets you down again onto the river (whose level has dropped when it went over the weir).

Sawley

The river seemed even wider as we emerged, though maybe the channel is just more spread out. There was a plastic bottle stationary in the middle – it wasn’t obviously a buoy, but it was either stuck on a very shallow spot or moored to the bottom, and I spent some time deciding which side of it looked more like the main channel. Fortunately, if there was a wrong side I picked the right one. The river curved broadly to the left and then back to the right, and we came to the crossroads which would be the limit of our journey this time. 

The crossroads

Straight ahead the Trent continued downstream, trending north until it becomes tidal, and eventually meets the Ouse to form the Humber Estuary. Up that way you can link up with the Yorkshire canals, and eventually reach Leeds and the Leeds & Liverpool canal.

Mouth of the Erewash

Looking across to the Steamboat Inn on the Erewash

To the left is the mouth of the Erewash Canal, which runs about a dozen miles north, between Derby and Nottingham. There are proposals to open further lengths into the foothills of the Peak District, but this will always be a dead end, unless the Derby Canal which I mentioned in yesterday’s blog is restored.

The Trent continues, with the Grand Union opening to the right

On the right is the beginning of the Leicester Section of the Grand Union Canal. This runs a long way south, through the centre of Leicester, and eventually meets up with the main line of the Grand Union, which comes down from the centre of Birmingham.

All three of these routes offer a lot of interest, and we would hope to travel them some day, but for now this was as far as we were going. We turned in a wide arc, very easy in the open river, and headed back upstream. We passed a large boat on the way, not seagoing I guess but bigger than you would meet on a canal. We went back up the automated lock and out the flood gates to Derwent Mouth. At this point we had planned to turn up the Trent again to visit Shardlow marina, but we reckoned that it would take a couple of hours at least, and time was already getting on. So we headed back up the locks through Shardlow and beyond, and in the end we moored in the exact spot at Weston Cliffs that we had left this morning – though facing the opposite direction, of course.

We have now completed the “End Run” – top to bottom of the Trent and Mersey, and the main objective of this trip. But now we were thinking about the second mission, to visit the centre of Birmingham. I was carefully counting back from the jump-off spot we had been advised to use for the final day into Birmingham, to make sure that we would reach it in time.

TODAY: 8:00 HOURS. 14.2 MILES. 10 LOCKS.

Voyage: 39:10 HOURS. 71.3 MILES. 45 LOCKS.

Rude Awakening

Sunday 6^th September 2020

Willington is a nice enough village, a commuter spot for Derby with a station in the centre. But the inhabitants all seem to take an early Sunday walk along the canal, usually with their dogs, or talking loudly. So quite early on we abandoned any idea of a Sunday morning lie-in, and got up. Loulie took the dogs ahead along the canal for a walk, and I cycled back into Willington and went to the Co-op to get food for a couple of days.

 

We set off at about 10:30, and cruised in a fairly leisurely fashion to the first lock of the day, at Stenson. The locks from this point onwards are double width, and we shared this one with a boat belonging to a young couple, who had bought her cheaply to do up. Unfortunately the engine was very rough, and I was standing right beside the exhaust in a cloud of blue smoke.

 

They let us go first out of the lock, and they must have moored up somewhere because we never saw them again. We carried on to the next lock, Swarkstone, and stopped just short of the lock landing on a water point, where we filled up – though I think it is the slowest fill we have ever had, it took nearly an hour. Swarkstone is an interesting spot – just before the lock a short arm branches off to the north. It is filled with moored boats now, but this used to be the start of the Derby Canal, which wound its way up to the city and then turned east, eventually meeting up with the Erewash Canal near Long Eaton. It is abandoned now, but there are proposals to reopen it, which would make a very interesting alternative route.

 

We did the Swarkstone Lock alone, which wasn’t much fun – the big locks down at this end of the Trent and Mersey are quite rough with sharp undertows, and it is difficult to keep the boat from rattling around. After that was done we carried on for a mile or so, looking for a mooring – it was only mid afternoon but we had had a long day yesterday. We tried one spot, but there was a nasty shelf, so we carried on to a spot called Weston Cliffs, where the canal had been cut on a shelf, with a steep rise on our right, and a sharp drop behind the towpath to the left. It must have been spectacular when built, but now heavy woods disguise the steepness of the hills, especially above us, though we could hear a dog barking, apparently from high in the air.

Moored at Weston Cliffs

I went for a run, back along the towpath, 2.8 miles measured with my smart watch. Loulie took the dogs for a walk – she found a cycleway crossing the canal, that used to be a railway. It took her down to a bridge across the Trent, which is much bigger here.

The Trent near Weston Cliffs

Bridge over the Trent

TODAY: 5:00 HOURS. 7.0 MILES. 2 LOCKS.

Voyage: 31:10 HOURS. 57.1 MILES. 35 LOCKS.

In the Footsteps of the Legions

Saturday 5^th September 2020

It being Saturday we wanted to be sure to get the papers, so before setting off we walked the dogs up into Tuppenhurst village, to a one-stop shop there, about a mile. I like these trips into random small towns and villages from the boat – these are not special places, tourist destinations, just little towns and villages which happen to be close to the canal, but each one is unique in its own way, and special to the people who live there. As we were walking back we met someone with a small dog who asked us if they could introduce it to our pack, as they were trying to get it used to socialising with other dogs. Of course our lot just loved saying hello.

It was only  a couple of miles from our mooring to the first lock of the day, Wood End Lock. Wood End Turn, which is just beyond the lock, is the southernmost point of the Trent and Mersey canal. I mentioned in the last blog that the canal runs down from Preston Brook, round the bottom end of the central highlands and then back north to the Trent. Well Wood End is the point where it stops going south east and turns to the north east.

Wood End Turn

Wood End is also the start of the Fradley Junction locks, as far as the CRT are concerned – they had a volunteer manning this lock, and checking the licences of each boat going through. After Wood End there is still about half a mile, round the Turn and down to the junction proper, where there are five locks in quick succession. Fradley is the point at which the Coventry Canal takes off south, and we will be coming back here in a few days time on our way to Birmingham. For now, however, we were sticking with the Trent and Mersey. The Junction has been developed as a local tourist destination, with a nature reserve, pubs and restaurants, quite a nice lively place, even with Covid on the go. There were volunteers helping us through most of the locks, and it all went smoothly.

Fradley Junction

Below Fradley we went through a couple more locks before coming to Alrewas. This is a very nice canalside village, but the main point of interest, and the reason I knew of the place, is that below the village the canal joins the River Trent and the two become one for about a mile. It is not very dramatic – below Alweras Lock the river comes in from one side and you travel along what looks like a normal canal, if fairly wide, until the river leaves you over some sluices before Wychnor Lock. However this assumes normal river levels – when the river is high the navigation is closed between those two locks, so I regularly see warnings of closures between Alweras and Wychnor. It was good to finally pass these places, though happily the level was normal for our journey.

The Trent between Alweras and Wychnor

One of the nice things about canal travel is the variety of scenery you pass, from rural idyll to city squalor, and we had an abrupt change now. Along the Trent from Alweras to Wychnor Lock is entirely rural, with a couple of scattered houses and a church overlooking the river. Then after the lock you are suddenly running closely parallel to the A38 trunk road, so close in places that there is not much more than the towpath’s width between you and the lorries. The road is arrow-straight here – it is the Ickneild Way, though I doubt that a Roman Legionary would recognise the road now.

The Ickneild Way in 2020

About half way along this stretch there is a marina with a hire boat company, and Saturday is clearly changeover day, as we passed a constant succession of boats heading out. Beyond the marina the canal veers away from the main road and passes a water park before going through the brewing town of Burton-Upon-Trent. As with other places like Stoke, the canal was a major contributor to the growth and success of Burton, allowing them to ship their beer out to markets across the country. It’s a pretty dull town to pass through, though we did have some amusement when a boater, clearly blind drunk (he had a bottle of gin next to him) veered across the canal, tried to moor in a tree and wobbled away behind us.

It was starting to get late, and we were looking for moorings. The A38 had rejoined us on the other side, and we did not want to try to sleep within earshot of that traffic. After we had turned away we struggled to find anywhere very salubrious until we reached the village of Willington. This had a long line of moorings, but they were mostly full. One spot looked promising until we realised it was opposite a winding hole. We tried again a little further on, but we found that the bank had fallen in, leaving debris preventing us getting close. However by pulling forward a bit from here we eventually got a snug berth, though close to other boats and beside a busy towpath, with a railway just behind for good measure.

TODAY: 8:00 HOURS. 17.7 MILES. 14 LOCKS.

Voyage: 34:10 HOURS. 67.8 MILES. 47 LOCKS.

 

New Water

Friday 4^th September 2020

Before we set off today we went for a walk with the dogs, and just ahead of us we found a track or lane running over a bridge and down to the right, to the River Trent. It is quite small here, maybe a dozen yards wide, and you could easily wade across, probably never even going waist deep. We have been with the river since Stoke (Stoke-on-Trent, the cluse is in the name) and in fact we first crossed it on an aqueduct just below the last of the five Stoke locks, but we did not notice it at all then. The canal basically follows the course of the Trent from now until it ends at Shardlow – at that point the river is navigable all the way down to the Humber and the sea, and that was the point of the canal, to provide a link between the west coast at Liverpool and the east coast at the Humber estuary. Brindley’s great cross also included links down to the other major estuaries of England – the Severn and the Thames. Following the river was the best way to route the canal, especially in the early days when the technologies of locks, cuttings and embankments, all of which allow you to straighten and shorten the route, were still primitive and expensive. The river flows in a huge curve, down from Stoke then east around the bottom end of the central ridge of England, and back north-east – and the canal follows it.

The young Trent at Burston

Soon after starting we came to the first lock of the day, at Sandon – we were stuck behind a man on his own, who was rather slow. A few miles further on we descended Weston and Hoo Mill Locks, and almost immediately we reached Great Heywood Junction, where the Staffs and Worcs canal heads off south west, ultimately to reach the Severn. But we stayed on the Trent and Mersey, so we were now on waters we had never travelled before.

Great Heywood Junction

We came to another lock straight away, but we were still stuck behind slow boats, and we were at the final lock of the day, at Colwich. Soon after that the canal took a sharp right and left dog leg, going over the Trent so the river was now running to our north. This was on the approach to Rugeley, and when we got to the centre of town we moored up, so that I could do a bit of shopping. When I climbed up the canal bank I discovered we were right by a large Tesco, closer than many of the cars in the car park.

After leaving Rugeley we came to the site of the old Armitage tunnel, which is no longer covered, but which is still a long stretch wide enough for only one boat. There was no signage on the canal so we just proceeded, though we were aware from the canal map that this was a narrow passage. When we got to the other end, round a slight bend, we found a couple of boats waiting. From what we could see there were signs at that end telling boats travelling north to send someone ahead to ensure the coast is clear.

After that we passed the small town of Armitage, and the large Armitage Shanks toilet factory, which stretches along the side of the canal – a large old brick building, still active though rather run down. The village of Tuppenhurst is on the outskirts of Armitage, and after passing through we found a mooring on a long curving stretch. There was a bit of a shelf, but apart from that it was a good spot. The bank was quite soft so I put two pins in for each rope, and we settled down for the night.

TODAY: 8:30 HOURS. 16.0 MILES. 5 LOCKS.

Voyage: 34:40 HOURS. 66.1 MILES. 38 LOCKS.

 

Through the tunnel at last

Thursday 3^rd September 2020

Up early, and we cast off and got under way at about 7am. The effort we had made yesterday in the rain now paid off, and we cruised down to the mouth of the tunnel with no problems, getting there right on 7:30.

Waiting on the tunnel mooring

On the way in

As it turned out we were the first to arrive, and we pulled forward on the mooring until we were at the tunnel entrance. A number of boats rolled up over the next half hour, about half a dozen or so. Eventually the tunnel keeper showed up, initially at a cabin on the other side of the canal, where he had a cup of tea and a cigarette before coming across a bridge. It was just after eight by then – he told us that he was about to be replaced by volunteers, so I suppose that he had no incentive to deliver customer care. Anyway he let himself into a door by the tunnel, and then emerged in a small craft which is used if anyone breaks down inside. After that he checked that we all knew the procedures, and we were free to proceed.

I was leading the convoy, which was slightly worrying, but we had to make a tricky turn to get into the tunnel mouth from the mooring, which took some time. That meant the boats were fairly well spaced out, and I did not feel I was under any pressure. Last time we went through, two years ago, I scraped the upper corners of our superstructure quite badly – the tunnel profile changes sharply several times, which makes it tricky. Perhaps I was going too fast then, so today I took it at not much above tickover, and I got all the way through without touching at all, except on the wooden rubbing beam where it narrows at the exit. The time didn’t seem much longer than on our previous trip, maybe a minute or two more in forty minutes overall.

On the way out of the tunnel, looking much more relaxed

Nice to be on the way again

It was raining, though not hard, and we pressed on towards Stoke – we were keen to reach Stone at least, to visit the M&S foodhall there and pick up supper. Loulie navigated for a few miles while I went below and had a shower – I had skipped that this morning to save time and get us under way quickly. About four miles after leaving the tunnel, in the centre of Stoke, we came to the first lock, and so began the long descent towards Shardlow. The Trent and Mersey Canal is one big humpbacked hill. From the tiny stoplock at Dutton it climbs through Middlewich and Sandbach, then up the 26 locks of the Cheshire Flight to the top pound at Kidsgrove. That runs through the Harecastle Tunnel and on to Stoke, and from that point it is all down hill to the eventual end at Shardlow and out onto the Trent.

There are five locks in Stoke, and then another fairly long pound as you leave southwards, past the Britannia Stadium. After the solitary lock at Trentham we stopped to give the dogs a very late breakfast, and then on to Stone. There are four locks in the Meaford (“meffud”) flight and then four more in Stone itself. This is a much more attractive town than Stoke – although it has a lot of industrial buildings, they are mostly 200 years old, from the heyday of the canals. Below the bottom lock we stopped on the water point and I topped up, because you always should, while Loulie went shopping.

On the waterpoint in Stone

We pressed on a couple of miles more after Stone, going down the solitary Aston lock. A little beyond that we found a very nice rural mooring near the tiny village of Burston. Across the fields on the other side of the canal there was a large but nicely proportioned Georgian farmhouse, and apart from that we were on our own. As we were sitting down before supper we were started by a knocking on the cabin window, which was on the off (canal) side of the boat. It turned out to be a swan, looking for bread, which we gave it. I assume that it has learned that knocking on boat windows has a good chance of producing food.

Mooring at Burston

TODAY: 10:45 HOURS. 19.3 MILES. 15 LOCKS.

Voyage: 26:10 HOURS. 50.1 MILES. 33 LOCKS.