Roger's Web Site | Narrowboat Blog | Summer 2010 Journal

July 4th.

We have arrived at Mercia Marina, Derby, England after an exhausting 36 hours closing up the house, flying to London, changing planes to Manchester and driving to Derby. We passed out for 12 hours in a hotel before going to see Basil. He is in surprisingly good condition after floating for 9 months through one of the worst winters in history, according to the locals. There is a little festival going on here with live music, a big wheel, stalls selling all manner of canal paraphernalia and with drunken revelers of all stripes. Mercifully, the music has now stopped and the marina has returned to its usual peaceful quietude. We have been stocking up with provisions, cleaning and prepping the boat and trying to sink into the usual euphoria. Barb has caught a dreadful cold but we are hoping she will be better so we can start cruising around Wednesday. The weather is great. Next door but two, new neighbors Mick and Cathy are about to embark on their first ever voyage on a brand new narrowboat The Crafty Foxes (named for the Leicester City football club, apparently). Neither of them have ever steered a boat before, or operated a lock or swing bridge. We are laying bets on whether they will return divorced or closer than ever.

At the Festival, there was a small display of old cars, among them a beautifully restored Triumph TR3A. I used to own one as a youth. The restorer told me it is worth about £15,000 ($22,500). I sold mine in 1980 for £150. Ah, well.

FIRST EVENING AT MERCIA

TRIUMPH TR3A

BIG WHEEL

Click on any photo to enlarge.

July 6
I went for a long walk yesterday along the towpath towards Stenson. Bridge 20 on the Trent and Mersey canal, just a half mile or so from the marina, was almost totally destroyed by a farm tractor trailer which toppled through the parapet. It has been completely rebuilt in traditional materials by British Waterways at a reputed cost of 1 million pounds ($1.5m). The pictures below show the 'new' bridge and detail of the brickwork.

I crossed bridge 20 and walked through several little nature reserves with different themes - a wetland area, a grassy meadow, and a newly planted wood. The 'foxglove' (below, right) was spotted in the meadow. Any botanical friends know the true name? (July 12th. Thanks to Anita for confirming the name and for reporting that the botanical name is Digitalis. She says they are prolific in all colors in the Cascade Mountains, Washington State, near where she lives).

One big advantage of being one of the first boats in the marina is that we bagged a coveted end spot. This means that we have a view of a grassy bank on one side instead of being crammed up against another boat like most people. Wildflowers are growing there for the first time this year and a family of coots have taken up residence in the bank. There's also a rat.

Barb was still too sick to go on this walk but she's showing signs of recovery today. Unfortunately, I have now caught the COLD FROM HELL and, as you know, the mancold is always much worse than the female variety. If I get it any worse than Barb did, I expect death to be a welcome relief in a couple of days!

BRIDGE 20 REBUILT

DUCKS IN A ROW

BRIDGE 20 DETAIL

BASIL'S BANK

FOXGLOVE?

Click on any photo to enlarge.

July 9

This morning we set off from Wood End Lock along a wooded stretch with the canopies of the trees on either bank touching overhead to form a tunnel of foliage. The morning sun broke through here and there and dappled the water with twinkling light. Birds sang, and dragonflies flew alongside us, occasionally stopping on board for a rest. Suddenly, a blue heron broke cover just ahead of us and led us through the 'tunnel' for awhile before turning off lazily through a clearing. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It's all very confusing for a chap who generally prefers to savour the gloomy side of life.

We have been on the Trent and Mersey canal now for three days, cruising through the Trent valley and climbing slowly into the heart of England on our way to Stoke-on-Trent. Barb worked 12 locks yesterday, many of them with difficult 'cranked' gates, though they are all narrow locks just wide enough for one boat and generally easy to operate. There are few large towns on the route - Burton and Rugely so far, but much beautiful countryside and plenty of rural mooring opportunities. We are on one now with a view of the Trent through gaps in the high hedgerow, and a field of horses just behind us with a particularly frisky foal.

There are a few villages, like Alrewas (right) with an excellent pub, the George and Dragon, where we ate lunch yesterday. Tonight is B's wholewheat spaghetti with marinara sauce on Basil (below).

OUR MOORING TONIGHT

BRANSTON WATER PARK

TATTENHALL LOCK APPROACH

GREAT HAYWOOD JUNCTION

COTTAGE AT ALREWAS

EX WORKING NARROWBOAT

Click on any picture to enlarge.

July 12

WESTON COTTAGE FLARHS & PUMP

DUAL CREW & BOAT TUNNELS IN STONE

DRY DOCKS AND STONE CHURCH

Onward, ever onward. We cruised on through the country, stopping at the tiny village of Weston, which has some charming cottages, a huge village green and two pubs. It looks to be worth a night stop on the way back, maybe. After that we motored on to Stone, which is a fabled canal town. The town dates back to a pagan King of Wessex, Wulfhere in about 680 AD and it is where James Brindley, the engineer who built the Trent and Mersey canal, set up his HQ for the Grand Trunk Canal Company, as it was then called, in 1767.

We liked Stone so much that we stayed there two nights, a fateful decision as it later turned out. In town, the Saturday market in the High Street was just winding down and Barb shopped for groceries in the Co-Op.We ate the first night in the Star Inn, which is in the Guinness Book of records because each floor of its many rooms is on a different level. It is a 300 year old coaching inn and thus predates the canal right beside it. The food was excellent. We shared a cod fishcake starter and both had fish and chips which we rated 7 out of 10. The fish was good but the batter lowered the score somewhat

Next day, we walked the canal and parts of town, hung out on the deck in the warm sunshine and chatted to the locals.That night we ate in a Thai restaurant which was good but quite different to the Thai restaurants in Phoenix. Barb had a slight preference for the latter. Unfortunately, on the way back to the boat a bit of grit got in her eye and scratched her cornea. She was in agony all night and into today (Monday, 12th).

Our luck has changed with the weather also. It bucketed down with rain all morning and I single-handedly worked through 8 locks to get us up out of Stone. After 3.5 hours I was bedraggled, tired and soaking wet in spite of my new LL Bean rain jacket. Barb was unable to do anything except lay in the cabin as her eye is very sore and sensitive to light. We are hoping it improves tomorrow but meanwhile she is out of action. It increased my respect for her lock operating prowess when I had to do 'em all myself! And if we hadn't lazed around in Stone I would not have had to do it. The reason we are batting on is that we have to meet the boatbuilder in a couple of days to get a couple of things fixed.

Finally, here are some pictures of an old, beautifully restored butty and tug that were moored in front of us in Stone. A butty is a cargo boat without an engine that was towed by a motor boat. It can carry 70 tons. The tug is actually an old ice breaker that took 7 years to restore to its current condition.

BUTTY (left) and TUG	BUTTY
BUTTY NAMEPLATE	BUTTY DETAIL

THE WOOLPACK, WESTON

AD IN WESTON POST OFFICE WINDOW

OLD BREWERY IN STONE

July 15 (Reminder - click on any picture to enlarge - use the 'back' button to return to the Journal)

Raining steadily.. The one-eyed first mate is rebelling.. at the weather, the inertia, no TV reception, the pain. All justifiable but it may soon be Mutiny on the Basil. Tomorrow we go to see an ophthalmologist if her eye's no better.

Andy and Lee, from the boat builder Piper, came out today to fix some lingering warranty issues with the boat. The gas locker was not draining properly, so they drilled new drains. The hot water tank (called a calorifier on a boat) was not retaining heat overnight so they re-routed some hoses to try to fix that. We shall know tomorrow if it was successful.

I, left to my own devices, walked around the area where we are moored. Red Bull is the name. It's very interesting for a canal buff, as the Trent and Mersey canal (which we were following) drops down through two locks and passes underneath the Macclesfield canal (which we are now moored upon). There is a picture on the right of Red Bull aqueduct which carries one canal over the other. Basil is in the background. The water here is stained red with iron oxide (aka rust) from local mine workings which are leaching into the Harecastle tunnel

I sampled a couple of ales in a local pub - Theakston's Old Peculiar which lived up to its name, and Shepherd Neame's Spitfire which is from the County of Kent where I grew up and which was more to my taste. I just can't get on with these northern beers.

There's a family of swans with very young cygnets (pictured). The parents are so protective of their offspring that they hissed and one bit my shoe as I took their photos.

Yesterday, we motored the short distance from Weston Water Park through the Harecastle tunnel and up to Red Bull. We were incredibly lucky to get straight into the tunnel. It is only 'one-way' so there is normally a long wait to get in until the traffic emerges from the other end, but this time the tunnel keeper waved me in behind an electric boat and we were the only two to go through. He said "It must be your lucky day mate, you better do the lottery tonight!". After we entered the southern portal there was a huge clang as the door closed, followed by a noise like a 747 starting up as giant fans in the door were switched on to ventilate the tunnel. What with that and the total darkness, I struggled against a feeling of panic as I tried to keep Basil on the straight and narrow. On top of that, the electric boat was incredibly slow and was bouncing from wall to wall in front of me as the steerer tried to retain control. In the middle of the tunnel the roof drops alarmingly due to mining subsidence and I was forced to sit down and steer by looking along the side of the boat as it was too low to stand up. Not for the claustrophobic! Much scarier than I remember from years ago. It seemed like we were in there forever before we emerged into the weak English daylight.

I love this changeable, squally, cool English summer weather but it is driving Barb crazy. She would rather be in Phoenix in 110 than here in the gloom, rain, sun, gloom. Not me, babe.

The day before yesterday, while leaving Stoke-on-Trent, I was navigating through a footbridge when there was a loud bang from the back of the boat and the engine stopped dead. A friendly passing boater towed us to the bank, while recounting stories about how his mates had had shopping carts and steel hawsers and the like enmeshed in their props and had spent hours using bolt cutters and hacksaws to remove same. Great, we said.

I removed the weed hatch (prop cover) and tentatively put my hand in the murky water. There was a solid balk of wood trapped between the bottom of the hatch and the prop. I dislodged it by hammering on it with a mooring spike and it disappeared into the muck. In ten minutes we were on our way, with an apparently undamaged propulsion system. Thank you, God, if you exist!

PEACEFUL REACH of the MACCLESFIELD CANAL

RED BULL AQUEDUCT

THIS IS A GREEN BOAT

WILDFLOWER (Anita?)

FOUR YOUNG CYGNETS

JULY 20

BASIL AWAITS ENTRY at the HARECASTLE TUNNEL

INSIDE THE HARECASTLE

THE SOUTH PORTAL and FAN HOUSE

Click on any photo to enlarge.

We went to see an Ophthalmologist/Oculist, whatever, in Kidsgrove. She gave Barb's eye a surprisingly thorough exam and, in a broad Scottish accent, told her that if there had been a scratch it had healed and she has a severe case of dry-eye which is very uncomfortable in most cases. Barb has had dry-eye for a long time and uses artificial tears for it. Normally it is not very painful because her cornea has hardened with a lifetime of contact lens use. She was told to increase the use of the 'tears' and, as of yesterday, she has been able to use her lens in that eye again. We were elated that there was no infection and nothing seriously wrong.

The weather continues mostly gloomy and intermittently rainy and on Saturday (17th) we left our berth at Red Bull and renegotiated the Harecastle tunnel in a record 31 minutes (transit time is normally around 45 minutes but we were following some really speedy boats). On through Stoke, without incident this time, and we stopped the night at the Weston Water Park. There we found armies of the verminous Canada geese (pictured right) who are taking over the world and whose poop is a greater danger to civilization than global warming.

I am showing several photos of the Harecastle tunnel because it is quite an experience and has an interesting history. The first tunnel was built by James Brindley, the engineer for the canal, in the 1770's with much loss of life for the 'navvies' who built it. The canal was so successful that the tunnel quickly became a bottleneck as it is almost two miles long and one-way only, so a second tunnel was built alongside it by Thomas Telford in 1824. Such were the advances in the technology of the day that Telford reduced construction time from 11 years to 3. The tunnels operated in parallel for decades until Brindley's had to be closed because of subsidence. The tunnel is still in water and the sunken portals can be seen at each end (right).

There are no ventilation shafts in the Telford tunnel, so after a string of boats enter from either end, doors are closed at the southern portal and giant fans suck air from the north end to remove the fumes. For me, navigating it required every ounce of concentration, especially on the fast southbound transit. The roof is extremely low in the middle and passage is not for the faint-hearted or claustrophobic helmsperson!

Now we are at Stone, a village we really like, so we are staying for three nights. We decided not to do the Caldon Canal because of the weather and because we'd rather spend time with my family in Kent during the first week in August, which is the only week Michael (my bro) and Angela can conveniently have us. Consequently, we have plenty of time to mimse back down the Trent & Mersey canal at leisure. When we arrived, a fair was in progress in the High Street (right). We continued our gastronomic tour of Stone with an Indian meal the first night. Fair, but not up to Nadee standards. Last night we ate in a pasta restaurant which was quite pleasant. Tonight, we are slumming it aboard Basil. The weather continues overcast with rain squalls. A fine time to be Stoned.

THE VIEW FROM BASIL's REAR DECK

EVIL CANADA GEESE

BRINDLEY'S ORIGINAL TUNNEL

ALL THE FUN of the FAIR

EARTHSHAKER RIDE

July 24

SHUGBOROUGH HALL

SHUGBOROUGH HALL GARDEN

DUCK FEET WOODEN SCULPTURE

BARB RELAXES IN HER WELLIES

Meanwhile.. IN THE SERVANT'S QUARTERS
Help Wanted

PASTORAL SCENE

CAT MEMORIAL

SHUGBOROUGH INTERIOR

ANOTHER FADED MANSION

Click on any photo to enlarge.

Thursday, July 22, was one of those near-perfect days that are randomly forced upon us by circumstance. We left Stone and motored down a pretty stretch of the Trent & Mersey, accompanied by the young River Trent set in a lush green valley. The forecast was for foul weather and, sure enough, as we left the lock at Great Haywood a huge black cloud loomed over us and we moored up in terror. Half an hour later it bucketed down and we were glad we did. During our forced captivity we read the guide book and found that we were right next to Shugborough Hall, one of the stately homes of England and now a National Trust property. So, after the clouds lifted, we decided to explore.

The access from the canal was a treat as we crossed the Trent over an ancient packhorse bridge (photo left), just wide enough for one, er, packhorse. At this point the Trent collects a tributary, the River Sow, and the ornamental waters of the Hall gardens. All can be seen merging from the bridge.
The gardens of the Hall are exquisite, with areas of riparian splendour mixed with formal gardens leading up to the Hall steps. Several follies and monuments dot the grounds, including a miniature Pantheon and a monument to an aristocratic cat (left).

The Hall contains a large number of paintings, furniture and art objects and a startling number of clocks which were all keeping time. We wandered around until our feet hurt and then we had scones, clotted cream and a pot of tea for two in the tea shop.

We cruised on for a short time and found a pleasant mooring in the country. I walked down the canal after dinner on the boat and found a bench with a memorial and a pretty curve of the river to meditate by. A perfect end to a perfect day...

BENCH MEMORIAL

Since Shugborough, we have been meandering along at a snail's pace. We stopped to video Basil crossing Brindley's mighty aqueduct over the River Trent and again in Rugeley, a depressing little town where all the inhabitants seemed to be elderly, infirm, unemployed or all three.

On the way, we glimpsed through a hedge another great mansion (see left), this one of faded grandeur and definitely not open to the public. What stories lie behind its gray facade, I wonder? A good set for a horror movie, though.

Now we are at Fradley Junction again, about to enjoy dinner in The Swan Inn, reputedly the most photographed pub in England, so I didn't bother...

However, here's Basil outside the Swan, waiting for the lock at Fradley Junction:

July 27
We are now back on our mooring at Mercia Marina and we will be off the boat doing other stuff, so I am suspending the journal until we go cruising again in mid August. Thanks for all your e-mail comments. Back soon!

Continued... >

RED BULL AQUEDUCT

Now we are at Fradley Junction again, about to enjoy dinner in The Swan Inn, reputedly the most photographed pub in England, so I didn't bother...

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