Damp Day

Opposite the water point

Filling with water

We woke to the patter of light rain on the roof. By 8.45 it was brighter so we set off after breakfast. For the first hour the drizzle was so light I could barely feel it and the deck was drying.

Come on she's got something

As soon as the Captain passed the last mooring before the locks it started to rain. I found myself steering down an even tighter cutting than yesterday’s with even fewer passing places. Fortunately the only boat I met timed it so that we met at a passing place. Just after 11.00 we moored at the visitor mooring close to the locks.

The Captain insisted it would be a dry afternoon after checking the weather forecast but my trusty barometer hadn’t shown much improvement for today. After a couple of hours the Captain decided to move on as we need food supplies so we started locking in light drizzle. As the day was warm without much wind the drizzle didn’t affect us much.

Feed us!

cygnet tucking in while swan waits in vain for bread

We locked down the flight of five and the rain stopped. We filled with water opposite another covered loading bay. The local swans came over demanding food and at first seemed perplexed when I fed them swan pellets and seed rather than the expected bread. The cygnets caught on quickly and tucked in fishing under the surface for the seed as they sank slowly. Eventually the adult swans stopped asking for bread and tucked in, but by then my supply of seed had run out. Why don't more people feed these birds grain?

After filling the tank (and the cygnets) we cruised round the corner and moored up at a pleasant spot where the town’s gardens backed onto the canal. 

Following the Captain's cuppa we got ready for the long trek into town. Luck favoured us as beside our mooring was a sign pointing to the town and the path it sent us on was much quicker than walking back to the bridge and following the road.



was that it?

At 4.00 the weather was lovely so the Captain cast off to move closer to Adderley locks and find a rural overnight mooring for Lottie. We finally stopped after bridge 66 where there was plenty of space and a wide towpath. Tomorrow we face two flights of locks – if it doesn’t rain.

 




Let's have grass for dessert

Telegraph poles and a beached boat

Shelmore embankment

The Boat Inn

It was drizzling when Lottie insisted the Captain took her out. The rain was virtually stopped when he set off and over the next hour the deck dried out. although boats passed us regularly we never saw any ahead or following us. As soon as I took the tiller after the single lock it started to rain harder.

 

High Bridge with its telegraph pole

Before long I was steering down the mile long deep cutting carved through hard rock which was very narrow. Every now and then there was a widening long enough for two boats to pass. Towards the end of the narrow stretch the canal went round a long corner, where I met a boat. Fortunately my boat was short enough to slide into a short widening and the other boat passed easily. Then I passed through the high arched bridge and the canal widened out again.

useful duck perch

high and dry

We moored for lunch at Gnoshall visitor moorings. By the time we left the skies had cleared so the afternoon cruise was bathed in sunshine. However High bridge remained mostly in the shade as it is in a deep cutting. this bridge is famous for its masonry strut built across its high arch built to support a telegraph pole.

 

Most boats were moored which meant slow progress as we passed miles of them on tick-over speed.

 



Old working barge...

The sights of the later part of our journey included a narrowboat high and dry in a field and old working boats moored under the large overhanging roof of an old loading bay.

 

...under loading bay roof

When we moored for the night at a visitor mooring the Captain was flummoxed by the Shroppie shelf. This canal has a protruding shelf below the water line which just catches the chime on the boat’s bottom. The result is an annoying bump, bump, bump whenever a boat passed or one of the crew moved. The Captain tried everything he could to stop the banging but even his old front and back fenders were not fat enough to stop the problem. Eventually he pulled the ropes as tight as he could and hoped we didn’t get the bottom stuck on the shelf.

Onto the Shroppie

Wolverhampton boat club

rural bliss at Wolverhampton

Lottie made the Captain get up early so they were outside enjoying the early morning sun at 6.00 while I stayed snuggled up in bed.

 

tall Shroppie bridge

He cast off at 8.15 in case it was a very hot day but even though we reached the narrow section early we still met two boats. The canal had passing places so I got off to hold our boat tight to the towpath. Lottie joined me and I found myself tangled in her lead as I tried to hold her and the boat as several dog walkers approached. After the boats passed we didn’t meet another boat until we reached the Shropshire Union Canal (affectionately called the Shroppie) where a long boat was exiting.

The Captain worked the stop lock, which lowered the canal about 15cm (6 inches) while Lottie explored the park adjoining the lock. We stopped for lunch at a peaceful spot far from the bustle of nearby Wolverhampton. Lottie relaxed on the grass by the boat until she got too hot then lay in the cool corridor.



Iron rubbing post

Long straight cut

The weather stayed fine while we cruised through deep wooded cuttings which had high stone bridges with iron posts protecting the stone corners. these posts were to stop the ropes from the horse drawn barges slicing into the masonry. I find it amazing that years of tow ropes sliding past the bridges cut all these notches in the iron. The posts now serve to remind us of how many horses once plodded along these paths

 

It stayed fine until we moored at Brewood when it started to rain. By the time we set out to find the village shop for milk and bread it had stopped.

Restored working boat

The Captain decided to eat out so we headed for the nearby pub, only to find it did not allow dogs inside. We found a cosy table under the wide eaves out of the wind and enjoyed our meal. Lottie lay quietly until we had finished eating, then (as usual) she wanted the left-overs. Once she had her titbits she was ready to crash out in comfort and signalled her desire to leave by barking. As she has an awesome bark I took her back to the boat where she reclined on a sofa leaving the Captain to finish his beer in peace.

The rain returned just after Lottie had been out to the toilet and settled down for the night.

view from the aqueduct

The Watch Tower

rising in Gailey lock

The morning was sunny and felt as if it would be hot later. While starting the engine three boats passed in quick succession and another passed as the Captain got ready to cast off. He cruised slowly to the first lock expecting a long queue but by the time we got there only one boat was waiting to ascend. By the time we were in the lock another boat had arrived behind us.

pleasant moorings

We were rising in the second lock when I realised the two boats ahead of us were moored at the Chandler’s at the top of the lock. The skipper of the boat ahead of us rushed out with a bundle under his arm.

“That didn’t take long,” I said.

“No,” he replied. “I’ll be on my way before you leave the lock.” Unfortunately for him a long narrowboat appeared round the corner and hovered next to his boat as he prepared to move off. We left the lock and glided by as he couldn’t move and we had to vacate the lock for the waiting boat. By the time he caught us up we were rising in the next lock.

heading to buy ice-creams

Our longest wait at a lock was when the boat ahead exited and we waited for a boat to come down. Many hire boaters are expert in their boat handling but this chap hadn’t a clue. Worryingly (from his boats logo) he had been out for the bulk of his holiday as he was nearly back at the boat’s base without being able to steer into a lock. After several bumps and help from crew pushing the boat squeezed into the lock. Thank goodness it was made of steel. Lottie passed the time by sunbathing on the grass. A couple of years ago she would have been straining to move on but she was content to relax at our lunch stop as well.

the toll keeper's watch tower.

Gailey Wharf on the Staffordshire and Worcester Canal had an interesting round tower beside it which was the toll keeper’s watch tower. I can’t remember any other canal needing a watch tower- were they watching to make sure the boaters queued politely or were they frightened some rogues would evade paying the toll?

 

By 3.25 it was hot so we moored in the shade at a visitor mooring near a handy shop selling ice cream. The Captain emerged licking his favourite ice-cream with a wide brimmed cowboy shaped sun hat perched on his head at a jaunty angle.

After over an hour’s break we moved off again to find a quieter mooring away from the industry nearer to Autherley junction

Huffy Heron



Don't disturb me

I'm going

We woke to clear skies and sunshine.

“Blow it,” the Captain groaned while filling the stern gland greaser. “I’ve lost the cir-clip that holds the plunger in place.”

He searched for ages watched by a curious family of ducks then cast off – promptly spotting the tiny clip when coiling his rear rope.



Not you again!

We disturbed several herons which strangely always fly ahead of the boat, land, then look affronted as it approaches. Why don’t they fly in a short loop and land behind the boat?

 

Lottie enjoyed sunbathing at our lunch stop and was rather reluctant to continue her cruise, but she jumped on board when the Captain started the engine.

 

 

Sunny towpath

There were plenty of boats around this afternoon but we arrived at each lock without having to queue unlike the boats coming towards us. By the time we left one lock three boats had queued up behind us and four waiting to come down.

 

 

Tixall lock looked lovely in the sun with its old crane and colourful flower beds. Before long we entered a section of canal that was overshadowed by the adjacent railway line, but the canal soon resumed its rural face

 

Flower bed at Tixall Lock

 

We moored for the evening early to avoid mooring too close to the M6 which was a distant rumble. The grassy towpath was idyllic for Lottie as there were no animals in the nearby fields.

Overshadowed by the railway

Rural bliss

Lost Log Lament

 

Is there anyone coming towards us?

Passing is tight on narrow sections

Mother duck on the lookout

The day did not start well. The Captain could not find his log for our boat. He searched while we packed then we set off for the boat. The journey up was trouble free but the log wasn’t there. After much huffing and moaning the Captain started writing his log on some file paper.

"I won't know when I repacked the stern gland or when the engine service is due now," he groaned.





chicks hiding in the long grass

We cast off at 3.00 with sunshine but a keen wind kept us cool. We met a lot of boats; three in the narrowest places around Armitage. The first time we reversed and nearly went aground. The second time we met at a narrow bridge on a blind corner. Both captain’s reversed and politely waited for the other to go through. It was all very polite and friendly. The third time we met a posh boat in the narrow cutting after the railway bridge. The posh boat’s captain reversed skilfully back into wider water on seeing our less than perfect paintwork.

 

I was delighted by the young cygnets, duckings and moorhens and found their different attitudes to their young striking. The male swan guards his lady and cygnets while the mother duck copes alone, quacking loudly if one chick gets separated until it reappears. The young moorhens are delightful fluff balls but hard to catch on camera as they hide in the deep foliage along the canal.

 

On mooring up the Captain played with his new phone and checked the weather for the next day while I listened sceptically after checking our trusty barometer.



Keep together everyone





Olives for The Captain

Swans with young cygnets

Sadly we have not cruised for several days as The Captain has broken the fuel pipe connector. He reached down to mop up the engine room floor at the end of our last cruise and rested his knee on the fuel pipe. It moved. At once he turned into Victor Meldrew, saying, “I don’t believe it!” 

Please feed us

We abandoned the boat with the fuel line safe to head off home and didn’t return to the boat for a couple of weeks as the weather was very wet. On our return he had to drive to the nearest boat yard where they made a new one for him. He tried to install it. After much grunting he decided one of the olives he had been supplied with didn’t fit and had to return to the boat yard to replace it. Until now I thought olives grew on trees and were green, black or red, which led me to be rather confused - but The Captain explained that an olive is a soft ring that fits over a tube to make a leak-proof joint.

I want some too

Finally the job was done. The Captain started the engine and the lurcher strolled onto the back deck and lay down ready to cruise. However the boat only moved as far as the service pontoon to fill with diesel. The lurcher stood up and barked as if to say ‘not another delay!’

At last we cruised for a while to check everything was working before stopping for the night. We had a lovely evening in a peaceful spot watching a swan with six cygnets.

We want more please!

When they came over I fed them with wild bird seed. at first the male swan watched perplexed while the youngsters tucked in then realised it was food. Greedily he took it straight from my hand before I could throw it into the water.The Captain relaxed with a beer after his “pig of a day.”

Unfortunately when we retired to bed The Captain muttered “I don’t believe it – the bed is wet!” on closer inspection the window above the bed had leaked and his side of the mattress was soggy.



Relaxing after dinner

We made up the dinette bed – thankfully this is a four berth boat – and settled down again with the damp patch of duvet hanging over the side.

In the morning I realised we have moored opposite the swan’s nest as all the cygnets were huddled up under their mother. Obviously they return to the nest for the night when the cygnets are small.

By eight o’ clock they had swum away. Within half an hour the squatters had moved in. About nine adolescent ducks waddled over and settled on the down filled nest. I think ducks don’t build nests but they seemed delighted to relax in this luxurious place.

Their idyll was soon disturbed when the male swan Cob returned. He raised himself up tall and before he could hiss they scarpered. Prior to taking possession of his newly abandoned nest he bathed leisurely. Still damp he stood in the centre of the nest and preened his feathers, adding to the already deep swan duvet ready for the family to snuggle up in tonight.