Lottie Lurcher

Lottie likes hiding under her blanket

Lottie was terrified in the night as the storm raged so I put her bed in the narrow corridor next to me and stroked her as I dozed. She lay shivering so I pulled the blanket over her so she could hide under it. When its cold she likes to sleep with her head covered with not even her nose protruding. Paul took her out to do her business in heavy rain but she was scared by distant thunder. She even refused her breakfast for only the second time in her life. With all the rain we’ve had the Soar is sure to soar and surge so we did the right thing by cutting our trip short. The morning was thundery but Lottie braved breakfast after it died down. Late morning the storms rolled away so we had early lunch and set off, catching another boat up as it was entering the lock. The lock slave kindly went around and opened the gate for Paul so I worked the near side as it was easier with Lottie Lurcher in tow. As we cruised on it became hot and sunny but storm clouds started building again. As we reached the third lock storms broke out on either side of us. We took on water and moored, then enjoyed a cool shower while Lottie stayed close to whoever was in the lounge area hiding under her duvet.

Old crane at the water point

The River Soar

the weir where the Trent meets the Soar

We cruised to the junction of the two rivers and filled with water. Then we turned past the giant weir onto the River Soar. The sun came out and it turned out to be a winding rural river with fields filled with cows. Lottie barked at two calves that were up to their chests in water, determined to return them to the bank where they belonged. She succeeded. At the first lock we caught up with a local couple on their way home and shared the next 3 locks with them. 



peaceful moorings

Filled in lock with gates still in place

One lock was so deep it provided slide poles for the ropes, and another had the ruins of a second filled in lock alongside the first. At the deep lock a boater heading towards us told us he was getting off the river quick as big thunder storms had been predicted and the Soar is notorious for shooting up into un-navigable strong currents when it rains. Paul decided we might head straight back after lunch to avoid being caught. By the time we moved off the sun was beating down, but the sultry weather and rapidly dropping thermometer suggested a storm was overdue. Cowardly or wise we turned back for the safety of the Trent and Mersey canal. On the way we passed herons fishing, but one took a dislike to our boat and flew off, looking rather like a pterodactyl in the air. At the deep and slow to fill lock we had a long delay as boats passed. Those coming up were speeding to their home moorings and two were leaving the Soar to cruise before they were trapped. 

flying heron

I worked the locks using an umbrella as a sunshade as the heat was intense but the cruise back was pleasant as I had a breeze and shade under the umbrella. We moored after six in Shardlow beyond the flood gates. A couple of hours later it poured with rain. The people on the next boat charged back to it screaming as the rain pounded down, then couldn’t find their boat keys. The thunder banged directly overhead and sheet lightening lit the sky up. Lottie was terrified and curled up in the bathroom, a place she has never bothered visiting before.


weir stream and main channel

Adrift

plenty of room to drift

The morning was cool and damp as we pulled away from the water sports centre. We had to weave past the scullers who were out en bloc practising for this afternoons competition. A mile from the lock into the Nottingham canal Paul lost power and the engine cut out. We were adrift in midstream with speedy scullers likely to appear any moment. Paul lifted the rear deck and undid the weed hatch. The water was clear and he could see a thick rope wound tightly around his prop. Paul couldn’t budge it so resorted to attacking it with his leatherman multi bladeknife.

Return to Nottingham

Castle mound from the canal

Fellows and Morton historic canal haulage

Meanwhile the boat had turned to face the bank and slowly drifted towards it. Two scullers speeded round the corner. As they scull backwards they were unaware of us blocking their path. Normally powered boats keep out the way but they kept up the pace. I yelled and waved and one realised we were in the way and warned the other who was bearing down on us fast. Lucky had nosed onto a silt bank but the sculler squeezed between the bank and boat giving us a snooty look as he passed. At least he didn’t damage his boat by ramming into us.


a Nottingham canal bridge

Paul shifted the rope, nylon canvas bag and other smaller flotsam and re-secured the weed hatch. Deck back down the engine started first time and seemed non the worse for the obstruction which turned out to be a rescue rope that they used in the Water Sports Centre. Paul reversed off the sand bank and straightened the boat before the next bunch of rowers appeared. We cruised past the county hall and Trent Bridge cricket ground then headed for the lock as it started to drizzle. We put our coats on but the rain had stopped by the time I prepared the lock.

peaceful canal near the centre

A small cruiser joined us as our boat entered the lock and the children worked the lock with expertise. They were local and gave advice on where to moor on the river Soar where we might visit on our way back. We moored near the castle so Paul could top up our provisions. As we carried on we passed the boat we had towed near Castle Marina. Shortly afterwards we met the friend of the stricken boat on his own narrow boat heading out to get parts to repair the broken gearbox. At least they made it onto the canal section before it finally died. We had a peaceful cruise down to the Cranfleet cut just short of the junction with the river Soar. The only other boat heading in our direction was a canoeist who swiftly overtook and disappeared into the distance.

Return to White Water

north of Nottingham

After lunch Paul took Lottie for a walk across the fields in case we have trouble finding mooring again. Soon after we set off we came upon a narrow boat close to the shore on the left. With a sense of déjà-vu I saw a lady was crossing and uncrossing her arms in the air. This is obviously the code foe lady in distress as the men each time stand watching. The engine had failed and they had drifted onto a sandbank. The engine had restarted, though it sounded terrible as though a handful of bolts were rolling around in a washing machine, but they were stuck fast.

Turning round the gate

This rescue was more difficult than the last. We had to get close enough to pass ropes over but without getting stuck ourselves and our boat is only 40 foot, not ideal for pulling a larger vessel out of the mud. Paul tried pulling the stern off first but nearly got sucked onto the sand too. He then tried pulling the front at an angle to keep Lucky in deep water. With the other boaters pushing away with their barge pole we managed to pull them free. We then followed them through the next two locks. We moored up at the National Water Sports Centre and they carried on hoping to reach Nottingham where a friend would have transport to get parts for the repairs.

At the centre canoes were tacking the white water slalom course, and competition heats were under way on the rowing lake. It was interesting watching not only the races but also how each boat had to warm up by working up to the start. Some boats took it gently, others practised their sprint starts. Each race was accompanied by a power boat which seemed too close to the race it was following.

Singles heats

Paul thought he’d be exhausted by the time he reached the start with nothing left for the race but rowers are fit. As each race unfolded ardent supporters would hurtle down the cycle track screaming encouragement at the boats. Could the competitors hear the encouragements meant for them amid the uproar? Amazingly the pairs chatted about tactics as they headed to the start and the coxes of the fours bullied their crew about stroke length as they headed to the start. Although nearby our boat was insulated from the noise by a bank so we enjoyed a quiet dinner.

Rowing boats reign



The gate bridge over the lock

Large weir

the Power station- functional not beautiful

We set off at 7.30 to beat the heat and I worked the first lock. As soon as I inserted the key a booming voice came over the loudspeaker announcing WARNING STAY AWAY FROM THE LOCK CROSSINGS. It kept repeating this regularly to a solitary passing walker. As the lock divided the town it is used as a bridge by the locals so a warning system is needed to prevent someone stepping onto the walkway as it moved. Once we left the town the only blot on the landscape was the power station. Instead of warming up the morning grew cooler and we dug out our fleeces for the first time this trip. As soon as I took the helm I rounded a tight bend to find a rowing 4 stationary ready to start a timed run so I slowed up and headed for the shallows until they got under way. They soon picked up speed and shot round the next bend chased by their coach in a power boat. By the time I negotiated the next bend they were disappearing but other rowing boats appeared. I went wide round a rowing pair and the 4 reappeared storming towards me. I had to throw power on to get out of the way. Shortly afterwards I ran into shallow water avoiding another rowing boat. The beaches go out a long way on this river. I steered for deeper water as the boat dragged on the bottom with interesting clicking noises from the stones on the bottom. Rivers can be tricky but fun. We had a pleasant cruise up to Hazleford lock but there was no mooring left on the steps and the wall towered way above our roof so we locked up and carried on cruising. The small craft were

Speedy rowers

now canoes moving at a leisurely 

Lottie

pace, much easier to pass. We reached Gunthorpe lock and a boat emerged but the lock doors closed again. The keeper hadn’t seen our tiny boat under the 20 foot high wall. Paul braved the ladder to inform the keeper we were there while I tried not to be swept away by the powerful current. At last the light went green and I locked up alone, controlling the boat on the centre rope. When the boat had risen Paul climbed down the 8 rungs back in the lock wall to rejoin me. We moored against the lowest wall which was level with the roof of the boat. Lottie was desperate for the loo and launched herself into the air and somehow managed to reach firm ground. To make her life safer Paul took the inside front step out and lined it up so Lottie could jump onto the roof then hop down onto the gas locker and bounce onto the step then onto the deck. Lottie soon got the idea but it could be dangerous in wet weather as the roof could be slippery.

 



to the tidal Trent and back

Village Church near Newark



Paul decided to cruise down to Cromwell lock which starts the tidal section of the Trent. The day was even hotter than yesterday and the heat wave seems set to stay. I persuaded Paul to put the sunshade up on the back deck and cruise in its shade as there was no wind to blow it over. Our trip took us between two communities divided by the river which has

cooling off

few crossing places because of its width. On one side the square church tower dominated and on the other a spire pierced the sky, both beautiful English architecture. The cows in the riverside fields made the most of the sandy beaches and cooled off in the water. One was eating water reeds while chilling in chest deep water.



We didn’t venture beyond Cromwell lock as we didn’t fancy hours of cruising in the oppressive heat to reach sanctuary at Torksey and there might be nowhere suitable to stop for the dog. Yesterdays toilet stops were

castle gardens

bad enough for her. When we arrived at the lock our friends from the night before were filling with water ready for their long cruise, so we waited  floating around on the river for about 10 minutes. When they moved off we filled up but as we finished 3 narrow boats came out of the lock wanting water so we had to cast off. The low mooring pontoon was full so we cruised back to Newick without stopping. The lock was worked slickly for us and we moored up on the

Newark town

half full pontoon. Within an hour it was full and people had moored on the other side that we had vacated in a hurry yesterday.


The first hour was uncomfortably hot but after a while the breeze picked up, and the trees overhanging added shade bringing relief. After it had cooled down we went for a wander round the town with Lottie. First we found her a path down into the water of the weir stream so she could cool down, and then we walked along the towpath opposite the castle.


Castle at night

We crossed the lock and walked back inside the curtain wall of the castle. It had several interesting features and the wall fronting on to the canal was an eleventh of a mile. After dark we wandered around again and found the castle took on a different
 character lit up against the night sky.



Tricky toilet trips for Lottie



Honk honk wake up

Cows cooling down

Sandy beaches

Lottie Lurcher woke us up at 5.30 when the Canadian Geese were making a racket. We filled with water and headed for the lock to join 2 full time live aboard boaters. She worked the lock while I watched. Instead of using the bollards at the top of the lock we put the rope round a sliding pole that ran vertically into the lock. At first the cruise was blessed with cool air but the day grew hot. At Gunthorpe lock we had to wait for the lock keeper but Lottie wanted to relieve herself. Unfortunately the lock moorings were against a massive wall. We encouraged Lottie onto the gas locker and then onto the roof. From there she had a 3ft jump onto the lock side but she missed her footing and I had to shove her bottom up while Paul pulled her up. No mean feat with a 32 kilo dog. I managed the lock alone and let the other boats leave first as I had to go against the currant to pick up Paul and Lottie from a low pontoon. I couldn’t drive the boat over as the rush of water was so great so I winded the boat and approached the pontoon towards the lock. I still couldn’t get over but I threw a rope and 2 CART men helped pull it over. Lottie jumped straight in. This part of the river has very high banks which tower over the boat making it hard to get off. People use the ladders provided and carry small dogs. So it was a problem.

Newark Castle

We moored up after the next lock which had high banks but there were steps up to a fantastic playground for Lottie. Paths had been made through a wilderness inhabited by rabbits. She loved it but got too hot. We couldn’t stay there as we had to seek the pump out again, so at 2.00 we set off in search of a marina with services. The river was quiet and tranquil but it was hemmed in by high banks blocking the views apart from the massive Stanthorpe power station. The breeze cooled us down but when we stopped it was baking. Paul had to do the pump himself in scorching temperatures.

The curtain wall

Leaving the power station behind we entered the Newark Dyke. Around the first bend there was a cruiser drifting through the reeds with a lady waving frantically at us. Paul slowed down and drew alongside to find out they had broken down and needed a tow. Fortunately they were only a mile from their home mooring and we were headed that way. The Hubby passed the bow rope over and I secured it to the bow and then he looped the stern rope round Lucky’s hand rail. Paul cruised slowly on and we chatted to the couple who had interesting tales of the river to share. At their home mooring I released the front rope, the man pushed off the back, and they glided the cruiser neatly back to their mooring.


Typical high walled moorings on left

We arrived in Newark town lock on a green light but there was no sign of life but the lock keeper materialised from his paperwork and worked the lock for me. The mooring in Newark had high concrete walls towering above the boats roof, no good for a hound even though Lottie is good at jumping. The pontoon was full but there was a short space behind the live aboard boaters who were heading for the Chesterfield canal. We had moored a few minutes when the lady told us they were moving off as a small but rowdy group had started up a barbeque on the tiny patch of grass. Already they were drunk and phoning friends to join them. We followed them when they assured us there would be mooring below the next lock. I worked Nether lock, what a joy it was in such oppressive heat to insert a key and push buttons to fill it, and open the mighty gates with one finger. The river level below was lower than expected so the wall was very high again, but there was plenty of grass for Lottie. Paul used our interior front step on the back deck and the extra 18 inches made it possible for Lottie to enjoy the facilities.