The top of the Trent and Mersey canal

Peaceful Marbury Country park

We woke to a lovely morning with the barometer pointing to fair. After breakfast we moved off swiftly before feeding Lottie as we wanted to explore Marbury Country park which was twenty minutes cruise away. We wanted to give Lottie a special walk as we didn’t know what lay beyond the Anderton lift and thought she might have to be on a lead for the next few days.

Stream and lake

As we crossed the canal on a footbridge Lottie became excited smelling the woods ahead. She chose to turn right after the bridge onto the path to the mere and we followed her. Could she sense the wide lake beyond the trees? Lottie ran and frolicked like a puppy and played with dogs she met in the wood. She ran ahead eagerly exploring then checked we were still following.

Speedy exit

The path weaved gently between the trees then dipped down to a vast mere with Lottie still bouncing. Having become hot Lottie waded into the lake and stood with the water up to her neck then lapped it up. Cooled down she chased through the trees again. When we turned round we followed a lower path that followed the edge of the mere. Knowing she might never be there again Lottie ran, jumped and explored frantically then cooled off in the mere again.

Her joy added to the pleasure of a super walk. It was as if she knew we chose that walk for her. Every now and then she would trot back to us eyes shining with happiness then she would swing round and charge of again.

old working boats

When the path veered from the mere she delighted in a narrow stream and was still full of bounce when we reached the bridge almost an hour later.

“She’ll dream about this tonight,” the Captain said, as she gobbled her breakfast back at the boat.

We had a good cruise round to the Anderton Lift. A hasty hire boater caught us up as we reached the lift. The first of two boats waiting to enter the holding tank waved us ahead of them then pulled out before the hire boat. They were held up as the two boats manoeuvred into the holding tank sweeping around another hire boat (that was inconsiderately moored in the for transit to the weaver mooring). The canal became shallower and narrower but had some wonderful views into the Weaver valley. As we cruised the Weaver last year we could trace the course of the river far below from some of the buildings across the valley.

Barton tunnel

Eventually we saw the massive swing bridge on the Weaver before entering the bent Barnton tunnel. Although crooked we could see the far arch so we knew there were no boats coming. Lottie whined so I searched for her treat box. By the time I found it we had nearly cleared the tunnel so I decided to wait until the next tunnel to give it to her. Shortly after emerging from the tunnel we spotted Saltersford locks (where we had moored last year) 60 feet below.

On arriving at Saltersford tunnel we found two boats queuing before us. Although we did not see a sign the boat skipper at the head of the queue insisted that we were only allowed to enter the tunnel between the hour and twenty past. The Captain did not argue though our 5 year old book said check the way is clear before entering.

View across to the viaduct over the River Weaver

As the minute hand reached 12 our little flotilla set off into the dark. The tunnel twisted one way then the other but the roof was mercifully high. Lottie whined so I gave her the expected tunnel treat – a dried tripe stick. On the far side of the tunnel was a large sign telling us that the south bound traffic could only enter at half past the hour so the lead boater had been correct. Had someone nicked the sign for its scrap metal value, little thinking of the harm they might have done or had we blindly sailed past? If the latter the second boat in our convoy had also missed this vital sign as they also had expected to squint into the dark tunnel and enter if they did not see the spot light of an approaching boat.

Moored at the site of the 2012 Dutton breach

The boats ahead of us soon left us behind. I guessed they were trying to reach Preston brook tunnel before 2.00 as it also could only be entered on the hour. If a boat reached the tunnel just after 2.10 it would have to wait 50 minutes before entering.

We realised that we were too slow to make the tunnel so made mooring for lunch our priority.

We had just over a mile to the tunnel when we spotted two moored boats ahead on a super mooring. We joined them on the lovely new moorings at 1.15.

view from our Dutton mooring

On stepping out of the boat we realised we were at the place where the canal had a major breach at Dutton flooding the surrounding countryside. The Canal had closed for weeks while the breach was repaired and boats on the near side of the breach were guided to their destinations along the river Weaver and the Manchester Ship canal. The canal spirit instantly kicked in with firms on either side of the breach helping boat owners or hire boat company’s on the other. To confirm our thoughts under our lounge window a plaque was screwed to the concrete.

It said This is the centre line of the breach in 2012.

Trent and Mersey Mile marker

The breach must have swept away the trees for there was a superb view down into the valley. The slope had been re-grassed and some young trees planted but it seemed bare compared with the wooded slopes on either side.

The end of the canal

After a short lunch break we set off at 14.25 in order to reach Preston Brook Tunnel just before it’s 3.00 window. We arrived at the stop lock to find a queue coming up. The upcoming boat came out and the Captain took Fine Chance in. I operated the lock but was perplexed as water was flowing over both top and bottom gates. However the boat rose several inches and the top gate opened with help from the muscular lad in the boat coming down. We swept round the corner at 3.00 precisely and entered the tunnel. Unlike the first two it was straight but Lottie was dismayed to do a third tunnel in one day even though she received and demolished a second tripe stick.

We emerged into a wide canal with solid stone banks and wide views over rural countryside –we had reached the Bridgewater canal. We cruised it for an hour enjoying the good weather and moored after a large village knowing the urban spread of Manchester was not far away.