The underground canals at the Delph

a canal mine portal

The flashing fridge light couldn’t spoil a lovely morning even though the Captain would have to replace the leisure batteries. At least they have lasted four years as they were last changed on our way to the river Lee. The Captain ran the engine for a while to charge them before we set off.

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We moored at Worsley visitor moorings 45 minutes later eager to explore the Delph where the underwater coal mine met the Bridgewater canal. If it wasn’t for the coal the canal would not have been built. There were workmen clearing the scrub around the basin as we went in to take a closer look but we kept out of their way.

Barges once came out of this portal

There were several mine entrances though one had no water in it. The bright rusty water was flowing out of another portal. It was more interesting than I had thought. What a dreadful job those miners had. The coal canals stretched for 46 miles in a branching pattern. Surprisingly the underground canals ran on four different levels. How did they manage such a feat of engineering with mainly picks and shovels? Sadly men died working in the mine – there were no unions or health and safety in those days.

houses above the Delph

As we left the basin we noticed the heavy padlock on the open gate.

“We’re not meant to be in here are we?” the Captain asked a man holding a strimmer.

“Not really,” the man replied, then went on to tell us how the Delph was going to have walks put through it so people could look at the basin. Normally that isn’t possible at the moment as the access path is slippery! I guess we were lucky to get to see it before it is all restored.

clean paws

Lottie however cut the conversation short as she wanted to explore the path through Worsley Woods. That also was interesting with pretty streams and steep wooded paths. All Lottie wanted to do was cool off in the water – but most of the streams had soft muddy approaches as if the levels had dropped.



lake above the mine workings



Dirty paws on a happy hound

Curiously there was a lake above the mine portals. Surely that wouldn’t have been there when they were mining as the men would have been afraid of water trapping them below ground.

view from Barton Lane underbridge

Back at the boat Lottie had a rare shampoo to get rid of the sticky mud but she soon dried off in the sun. We had a pleasant cruise back over the Barton swing bridge and back through Manchester.



View from the Barton swing aqueduct

The canal has long straight sections and I had just started one of these when a narrow boat closed up swiftly. He drove past me as if my boat were moored up. The speed on the canal is 4mph but we cruise at about 3mph. This guy had a huge bow wave and disappeared as quickly as he caught up. Surely he was doing 6 to 7 mph. When we turned onto the next long straight he had vanished. It takes all sorts and livened up a boring stretch.

is it a steam train?

The next entertainment came from observing the workforce improving the towpath. They had mini diggers and dumper trucks and rolling machines spread over several miles of canal. Most of them were working industriously at their own patch of path. Two cyclists speeded towards the closed path then dismounted and slung their bikes casually over the fence into the local park. Perhaps they have been using that diversion since the path closed.



barges supplying materials for the towpath construction

We moored in a quiet spot three miles from Lymm. It was just as well that we didn’t cruise at great speed for when the Captain went down the engine hole to turn the stern gland his batteries were very hot. One was fizzing angrily like a shaken coke bottle about to explode. He tried to call a local chandlers about buying new batteries but got cut off as he had a poor phone signal.



Church in Ashton upon Mersey



Frustrated he disconnected the fizzing battery to make it safer and to stop it discharging the second leisure battery. The fizzing soon stopped although it took a long time to cool down.

“We’ll see how much charge we have left in the morning,” he announced gloomily.



towering ship shaped flats

Goodbye Leeds and Liverpool Canal

Wigan Pier

Our fridge started flashing at 8.05. last time this happened was four years ago when the leisure batteries suddenly died a few days later. The Captain ran the engine while we had breakfast and the light stopped flashing almost immediately.

Urban towpath

After breakfast we cruised into Crooke and was surprised by all the spaces, but a skipper preparing to move off told us the village had been packed full – and they were all heading in our direction. His boat pulled out and followed us to the first lock where two boats were ascending. They scarpered into the distance leaving us lock wives to close up. Perhaps they didn’t feel strong enough to help us.




Flash (lake) left from old mine workings

It was much easier and quicker locking with another boat but they were stopping after three locks if they could moor in the secure gated site in Wigan. Talk about lucky – it was full (there was only room for two long boats) but one skipper indicated he was about to move off.

We ascended the next lock on our own but the Wigan flight keeper came by and helped the Captain. The following lock was after the junction but the boats ahead were still locking down as we arrived. I’m not surprised – they were very leaky.
 

Crane holding stop planks

By the time they had left another boat came up behind us. Their skipper and lock slave of Blue Dragonfly were amazingly lively considering they had spent several hours locking down the lower half of the 21 flight. They informed us that the locks were heavy and in poor condition but that they were going to be worked on next year.

“We will try them after the improvements,” the Captain decided.




old chimney

Blue Dragonfly led the way out of the final lock on the Leeds and Liverpool canal. Within minutes they were out of sight.

“We are averaging 3 lock miles per hour,” the Captain said. “Yet we seem to be the slowest boat on the canal.”

Naturally we were alone for Plank lane swing bridge which contrary to its name lifts! I operated it with more confidence but the queue still stretched round the corner in each direction. What power a small key has!

 We were struck by the sign posts on the tow path which gave times for cyclists instead of the usual distances. We moored up in Leigh to go shopping for food behind a broad beam. The other side of it was Blue Dragonfly. From its deserted appearance the crew had also gone into town.



Budlia and water lilies



After shopping it drizzled for a while delaying our departure but at 4.20 the Captain set off to find a quieter mooring more to Lottie’s liking. I walked her out of town until I saw several drunks slumped on a canal bench ahead. Although they were unlikely to accost me I chickened out and rejoined the boat. They called out to us merrily waving their beer bottles so perhaps I had been wise after all.



leaving Leigh

cycle signs

The water grew clear as we headed towards Astley Pit museum whose mine buildings added interest to the skyline. Soon we could see fish darting along the bottom. Along the far side the water lilies made a fabulous display. Strangely in one place there was a single large white water lily surrounded by hundreds of yellow ones.



We moored up outside Worsley in exactly the same spot as we had on the way out but this time another boat was moored further along the straight.

 



Astley Pit

Fishing rods and lock companions

The return journey is never so exciting but things still happen to entertain and we try to stop at places of interest we missed on the way out.

Although it rained in the night we were blessed with a dry though overcast morning although the Captain observed the red light flashing on the fridge gloomily. Two boats passed as the Captain cast off so we followed them – straight through the first swing bridge.

I ran up to the lady on the boat ahead and offered to work the next one as the Captain wanted to stop at the next town to buy milk and bread.

Lottie disliked the warning siren as the gates rose and fell but the bridge was easy to move with the push of a button. A car drew up as the bridge swung round so I indicated there were three boats passing through. The lady said a car had shot under a gate with her almost crashed into the gate at the far end and ended up swinging round on the bridge. Crazy driver! My driver gave a wave as the gates rose in stark contrast to the story.

At Burscroft Bridge the Captain looked for mooring but it was all permit holders only. One of the boats we were following has pulled up at the services mooring and the Captain squeezed in behind it. Thank goodness we are only 40 feet long. The sign said mooring limited to 1 hour.

The Captain declared, “well we need water,” and disappeared off shopping leaving me and Lottie with the boat. I dumped the rubbish and watched bemused as the crew of the other boat took turns to use the toilet.

“We’re using this loo as

ours needs a pump out,” one lady said. I didn’t like to mention that I thought the nearest pump out was over a day’s cruise away.

The captain returned as they cast off, thrust bread and milk into my hands and filled the water tank.

“I found Tesco’s but when I reached the till the girl said they couldn’t take money before 10.00! she said they were open so customers could browse. When I told her I wanted milk now and didn’t want to browse for nearly half an hour she directed me to Spar.”

“That’s what you call helpful staff,” I agreed.

As soon as we left town long rods stretched across the water, each angler waiting until the last second to withdraw his rod.

“Is it a competition?” I asked the friendliest face. He nodded so I wished him good luck. From the grim expressions on most faces it was a serious business. As we ran the gauntlet of extended poles one angler raised his rod so its end wobbled above our heads. I ducked fearing the hook would catch me. Another angler didn’t look and didn’t move his rod. The Captain (who was creeping the boat forward on tick-over hit reverse and still the angler ignored our boat. As our boat slid backwards the rod withdrew but the angler never glanced once in our direction.

still waters

It was a relief to leave the last rod behind and moor in Parbold for lunch. For once the Captain had an extended lunch time. Until today the canal had been quiet  but now boat after boat cruised past, disturbing the marvellous reflections. After 6 boats all going our way the Captain was amazed and decided to wait to let the lock queue die down. However within a few minutes another 2 boats slid past.

“More boats have gone by in half an hour than we’ve seen since we’ve been on this canal,” he muttered.

The Captain cast off and followed slowly, knowing there would be a long queue at deep lock. There were 4 boats waiting when the lock came into sight but at least they were all narrow boats so they could go up in pairs.

After a 30 minute wait the Captain emptied the lock and opened the gate for me to enter. As I moved off another boat appeared and followed me into the lock. The Captain opened the second gate for it but it hit the gate and bounced into our boat then clanged back into the lock wall. The crew member waited until the Captain had closed both gates before climbing the ladder to help.

They got away first as the crew member jumped on board as his boat left the lock while I had to pick up Lottie and the Captain. They operated the swing bridge which put us back in the lead. Did they think the Captain would do all the work at the next lock for them?

canal-side flowers

At Dean lock I got off then we saw a boat was in the lock. A single hander was waiting for a boat to pair with. The boat behind speeded forward as our boat entered the lock then realised just in time it was occupied.

After a short cruise the Captain spotted a length of piling (no banging in of pins required) and moored just outside Crooke which must have been full of boats avoiding the flight of locks into Wigan.

rest time

I walked Lottie back to a narrow wood and found it had several pleasant paths winding through it. Lottie turned it into a racetrack and chased around like Lewis Hamilton trying to get pole position. When she pulled up next to me panting she spotted the shallow river Douglas through the greenery. She charged in, cooled down, then did several more circuits of her track like a pure greyhound before trotting out of the wood back to the boat. Once fed she collapsed and slept the evening away, only waking to check out her bowl in case we had left her some dinner. After a day on the lead our lurcher lurched herself flat out until she felt ready to stop. I’m glad she likes this mooring.

Family fun

Lottie

It was hot before 9.00. We arranged to meet some family that live on the Wirral at a bridge in a small village. Our family thought it would take over an hour to get there as the traffic is awful and we worked out it would take us 1 ½ hours. The race was on!

It was a pleasant cruise and we arrived at our destination an hour and a half later. We found a mooring within sight of the pub and bridge. The car park was between the boat and the bridge. Fifteen minutes later Ben’s classic car rolled into the tiny car park. Lottie was excited to have visitors and dashed up and down the tow path. She soon calmed down and consented to share one dinette sofa with Ben.

splash landing



coot

Ben and Vera admired our boat and shared news over a coffee before we headed to the pub for lunch. Lottie whipped the lead out of my hand as we walked into the garden and scampered after the Captain who had entered the pub to get drinks and menus. A quick witted waiter grabbed the lead and handed Lottie to me now red faced with embarrassment. As we joined Ben and Vera she spotted several ducks resting on the grass and charged. The extending lead unravelled and I took off after her like a water skier. Somehow Lottie stopped short of the water wagging her tail as she had put the ducks in the place she thought they belonged. By the time her beloved Captain had returned Lottie was sitting quietly by my bench. She waited quietly throughout lunch hoping for titbits then got restless and took me for a walk down the towpath while the others finished their drinks.



flat surroundings

Finally it was time to cruise. We had already decided to turn round today but would have gone as far as Aintree or beyond if we hadn’t met Vera and Ben. However we had been told that we had to give CaRT 5 days notice if we wanted to go to Liverpool so that had become impossible. 5 days seems an incredibly long time for boaters who delight in not knowing how far they will get each day or even which direction they will take that day. We would have needed to inform CaRT before we realised we were going to Liverpool- Crazy!



King of the canal

Anyway Vera settled in the bow and Ben took the helm as soon as the Captain had it out of our mooring. He seemed a natural helmsman even though he had never steered a narrow boat before. He winded the boat in the winding hole following the Captains instructions but a strong gust of wind sent him sideways. Vera and I were sent into the deep reed bed before Ben reversed up and completed the turn.

Although the wild life only consisted of coots, ducks and a stately heron and the view consisted of flat fields our guests enjoyed their short cruise. After reuniting them with their car we cruised on to find a mooring for the night.

“The weather’s been lovely,” the Captain said. “Ben said it would rain at 5.00.” Within minutes the wind got up, the sky darkened and it began to rain – at exactly 5.00.

Laughing I handed the Captain his waterproof and ducked inside to close the front doors and windows as the rain grew heavy. After 25 minutes the Captain found a mooring and the days cruise was over. We were on our way home.

 

Bridges great and small

traditional arched bridge

It was sunny again when we woke. At this rate I’ll be out of sunscreen. It was peaceful this morning and the Douglas valley was lovely. I arranged to meet my aunt and uncle tomorrow wondering how Lottie would react to strangers visiting her boat.

Modern road and rail bridges

I cunningly worked the first lock leaving the Captain to do the second one as it was called Deep lock. The boat descended smoothly into the depths but the Captain declared it was no harder to open than the shallower ones we had struggled with.

While we were locking I reflected on the three modes of transport running alongside each other – canal, road and rail. Then along came three ponies adding to the transport tally as the horse preceded the other three.

amazing reflections

The Captain tackled the first swing bridge which required muscle not electronics to work but he declared it was easy to operate. The following swing bridges were open or derelict.

Today we saw bridges of all kinds as there were also traditional arched bridges and modern concrete ones soaring high above us.

 

weeping willow

We moored at Parbold. After lunch we cleaned the boat, a task we normally reserve for wet days. However the wet day was spent locking up in Stoke.

After our labour we cruised on taking on water at the Rufford branch. We looked at the locks there and I helped a lady open a gate.

Stark beauty of dead tree

“Are they all this heavy?” I asked.

“Yes. I’ve had enough of locking.”  

Her face was red and she looked hot so why didn’t her Captain share the lock work with her? I’ve noticed lots of women work the locks while the men drive the boat, surely the men should take their turn. On our boat we share the lock work. Are the men lazy or are the women afraid of driving the boat? I suspect it’s 50/50.

Converted windmill

Our problem now became finding a mooring as the banks slope away from the water making it hard to get close. After a couple of failed attempts we pulled the boat to within 10 inches of the bank. As no fenders will work we may bump now and then. Surprisingly Lottie, who can jump six foot gap, was reluctant to risk falling down the gap!

 

Cruising through the swimming pool



straight banks and clear water

We woke to bird song and clear blue skies. When I walked Lottie while the Captain prepared the boat the water was so clear I could see fish darting through the weed. The bottom was clear of rubbish, apart from an empty crisp packet which looked like new laying neatly on the bottom of the canal. At the bridge however plastic and bricks had been flung from the bridge. Four tyres lay beyond the bridge   forming an almost complete Olympic logo. Is this what we cruise over in muddy waters? Yes and more. When canals have been cleaned shopping trolleys, push bikes, old prams and motorbikes have all been found!

water lilies everywhere

It was a lovely cruise to Leigh where the captain replenished the supplies. As chief dog sitter I walked and met him outside the store to help carry the shopping back as Lottie gets stressed waiting outside.

After lunch we resumed our cruise not realising it would be 5 ½ hours before we could moor up! Once back on CaRT waterways we could see they were not so well maintained as the Bridgewater which is owned and managed by the Manchester Ship Canal. The shallower water meant we cruised slower.

magnificent old factory

My first challenge after the Bridgewater canal turned into the Leeds and Liverpool canal was to operate the Plank Lane swing bridge. As we approached I realised it was a very busy road – surely random boaters like me would not be allowed to disrupt the steady flow of traffic!

I opened to operating box and found my first problem – the brilliant sunshine made it difficult to read the on screen instructions. After squinting at the faint print I waited for a gap in the traffic and timidly pressed the green button.

safe moorings

Traffic lights stopped the traffic but I couldn’t see how to lower the barriers so there was a slight delay while I read the instructions. At last the barriers lowered and the bridge slowly opened while the traffic queued. By the time the boat passed through the traffic stretched round the corner.

Plank lane swing bridge (which contrary to its name lifts)

Help! As soon as our boat was clear I pressed the closed button but bridges are not to be rushed. The screen told me the bridge was locked in place then asked me to check the barriers were clear before they would rise. I counted the cars as they flowed onto the bridge. After 20 cars passed the lights changed leaving a long queue to let the traffic flow from the other direction. This time I lost count but a bus filled with passengers bounced over the narrow bridge.

Geese enjoying the Flashes

When we reached the first lock I jumped off the boat to work the lock and stood puzzled wondering how to work it. It had chains attached to the balance beam and a handle to wind it open but I couldn’t see how to disable the anti vandal lock. This was because the device was broken perhaps by vandals? In the end I lowered the water level but when I came to fill the lock (with our boat seeming small in its vast belly) I again had trouble as the ground paddles didn’t work.  
Timidly I filled with gate paddles (which shouldn’t be used until the lock is half full) but the flow was sluggish and didn’t send the boat bouncing round the lock. The massive gates were too heavy for me (no chain assist on the top gate) so the Captain had to come and help.

Henhurst Lock

Slightly deflated we went on to lock 2 round the corner. If anything this lock was harder to open than its predecessor but the captain helped me open it before fetching the boat. Strangely I managed to close the gate alone. . Muscles aching I went to work the paddles while the Captain floated around. I wound up the first paddle easily – but the water level didn’t change. Fortunately the second ground paddle worked as there were no gate paddles. The boat crept upward slowly.

looking back at Henhurst lock

“We’re not doing 21 locks if they’re all like these,” the Captain muttered. “We’re heading for Liverpool.” At the junction we headed left straight up to the next lock where a boat was entering from below. I went forward again and noticed this lock had another interesting way of helping boater open lock gates. Because the bridge was so close the bottom gates had a windlass that operated a rack and pinion to move the gates with ease.

The amazing Wigan Pier

The boater coming up worked the lock alone with one crew member sitting comfortably in the bow and the other holding a tiny dog on the lead. He helped the dog and lady back onto the boat then leap aboard cheerily. The lock was easy to operate but the Captain struggled with the next one.

He recovered in time to grasp his camera as we approached the restored Wigan Pier.

“Is that it?” he asked. Indeed it was merely a pretty landing stage, but had become famous because of that book!

old loading bays

As we approached Pagefield Lock we could see clumps of teenagers gathered around the next lock.

The Captain gallantly volunteered to go into battle when he saw boys were leaping off the balance beams into the gloomy water of their swimming pool. Altogether there were over 30 teenagers, mostly boys but some teenage girls were sitting watching the action. I pulled the boat over to the side so that I was only a metre from their grassy perch. Two boys ran over and grabbed their towels as the water started to drain away.

Almost cloudless skies

“Sorry to interrupt your swim,” I said.

“It happens,” he replied laconically.

However other boys were still leaping into the water in front of our boat like desperate lemmings as I eased our steel boat into the lock. they were either foolish or trusted I had full control as I could have mown them down if I hadn't held the boat at the back of the lock.

Graffiti near Pagefield lock

leaving Wigan

“Pass me your key and I’ll help you,” one boy said.

old crane

“I’m fine thank you,” the Captain replied putting his handcuff key deep in his pocket. The language on the band was littered with swear words but they were not aimed towards us - it was simply their normal mode of speech.

The Captain’s would be helper followed him around like a soggy artful dodger.

“Will you refill the lock for us Mister?” he asked.

“I’m not supposed to,” he replied. “We’re meant to save water.” As the boys closed the lower gates the Captain went and filled it again as it was unlikely another boat would come up to do it for them.

“Thanks mate,” the dodger cried and hurtled into the lock.

out in the countryside

The final lock before we moored was filled with floating litter and scum hardly inviting to swim in however hot the weather. Though the paddle gear was easy to work I had to leave the boat to help the Captain close the last lock.

“Thank goodness we’re not going to do 21 of these,” the Captain said as he eased the boat away in search of mooring. Within ten minutes we reached Crooke, a pretty village with a boatyard and a pub.

The Captain moored in the shade and laboured over his log.

“Very heavy locks,” he muttered as Lottie flopped against his legs.