Sheep's clothing

Day 5, Wolverhampton

Well, it seems I spoke a little too soon, as we had a slight kerfuffle at 4.30 this morning, some passersby deciding to hop on and nick some of our coal. They didn't half get a surprise though when Jim popped up from under his bivouac in the hold growling 'Fuck off!'... One of them ventured back a few minutes later by which time Jim was fully dressed and wielding the keb, and that was the last we heard of them. I hid under the bedclothes of course while all this was going on. Tonight though we have drifted Chertsey over to the offside ever-so-secure-because-utterly-inacccessible mooring, and apparently we are leaving tomorrow at half past five. So I shall endeavour to be ready by quarter past...

Today we went back into the town centre looking for a food shop (we eventually found a small Tesco hidden in a corner of one of the two shopping arcades) and hoping to investigate the covered market, only to learn that it's closed on Thursdays. If it hadn't been for the early start we certainly would have investigated the Great Western pub, but sadly now that will have to wait for another visit. We did however drop into a proper old fashioned caff ('Charlies') for Jim to have a proper old fashioned breakfast ('12 item' breakfast £3.90) and two excellent mugs of tea at 50p apiece.


And then we came back and continued with the painting and decorating - the cabin and the rear hatches, which are nearly done now, and putting some new paint on the outside of the cabin to clean it up, getting all the brass done etc. so that we won't be too much of a disgrace at the festival. I'm pleased with the general way the back cabin is looking now, although it doesn't bear too close inspection.

Wanderers in Wolverhampton

Day 4: Wolverhampton

Well, that was too good to last; we got thrown out of the basin this morning when the supervisor arrived (don't worry Blossom, Minnow's still safe in there. We said we couldn't possibly move it.) Andway, we've spent the day on the towpath just beyond the basin and so far nothing dire has occurred. There are 'secure' visitor moorings on the other side of the canal; however, they are so secure that you can't actually go anywhere from them on foot, so that wasn't much good for as as we wanted to explore.

First though I got on with my painting and decorating inside the back cabin. I was doing the green moulding and it proved quite difficult and frustrating. I'm not at all happy with the result and there's still work to be done but you can at last get some idea of how it's meant to look. Then it was off into the town centre.

Based on a. the view from the ringroad, and b. the fact that it was widely reported to have been named by Lonely Planet as the fifth worst city in the world (although apparently this was a misunderstanding), I was prepared for Wolverhampton to be grim. But guess what - at least on a sunny September afternoon, it wasn't. In fact, looking at the city centre at any rate, it was really rather good. What do I look for in a town? A good range of shops, busy streets, a decent pub or two, and lovely buildings... well, Wolverhampton has all this for sure. Some stunning buildings, no doubt preserved through the fifties, sixties and seventies by poverty rather than appreciation of their Victorian/arts and crafts/thirties finery, but by and large there nonetheless. There seemed to be a fairly thriving market, most of the shops were open for business and we just had to visit this pub, the Posada, with its Victorian tiles, snob screens, booths and mahogony, and amazing curved windows. The beer was OK (I see it has had mixed reviews on BitE) but it was the surroundings that made it. And when we got back both times the boat hadn't been stolen/untied/vandalised/robbed, so we still think Wolverhampton is quite a lot better than it's cracked up to be.

Twenty one today

Day 3: Acton Trussell to Wolverhampton

And the rest! Because of the rather abortive efforts of the last couple of days, Blossom said that we should be ready for an early start today - to leave about seven. So I set my alarm for 5.30, got up and lit the stove, did the brass which was in a disgraceful state after last night's rain, and wa sjust taking Jim a coup of tea at 6.45 when... doink, doink, doink... Minnow was started and setting off! Within ten minutes we were off to, and briefly caught up thanks to an even earlier departure (our somewhat eccentric friends on Shy Swan again) holding them up.

I did proper lockwheeling this morning, on the bike, from Shutts Hill to Gailey; nine locks and about five miles. It didn't take long for Minnow to get ahead and we were on our own. It was lovely and sunny for the best part of the morning but after we cleared Gailey it started to cloud over and by the time we got to the bottom of the 21 at 2.15, already more than seven hours after setting off, it was tipping it down. Jim had been steering all morning but I took over now, and up we went. Very soon the sun came out again, and it was really hot, so we didn't stay wet for long despite further odd showers. About two thirds of the way up we espied a familiar figure - Blossom, come back to help us. He'd made it to the top and tied up there. When we arrived, the flight had taken us three and a quarter hours. We started settling don, claening up etc. but although it was a nice enough spot there were a lot of rowdy people about (well, OK, to be technical, pissheads) and while they seemed harmless enough I could see it would annoy Jim, so how delighted we were when a BW guy came by and said that we could moor in Broad Street Basin, which is where we are now, toilets and showers on tap, and secure if not actually much quieter. Having been out for a little look round, we collected a takeaway pizza and set up the folding table and chairs, and poured a bottle of beer, and enjoyed our repast in the deserted and dimly lit BW yard. I think I'll sleep well tonight, no matter how noisy the trains, road and herberts.

Suffering from wind

Day 2: Great Haywood to Acton Trussell

No, it isn't very far, is it. The day started well, chez Chertsey at least. I finally used my bike for its intended purpose and pedalled off down to the Spar shop, where I bought the paper, and crusty rolls and croissants and jam. I'd lit the stove and put the kettle on before I left and came back in time to make the tea and warm the croissants in the oven. Southern softy boating at its best! Then while we were waiting for Minnow, Brian ex of RN came by on his tug Kyle, and stopped for a cup of tea and a chat.

Then Dawn texted to say that Minnow was up and running so off we set. Everything was OK until we got above Tixall lock, and then suddenly there was hardly any water; it was worse than on the Coventry earlier this year and that was bad enough. Even in the deepest part it was shallow enough to feel things on the botttom, and straying from the channel guaranteed getting stuck on the mud, and later, on big lumps of stuff.

This might have been copable with if it weren't for the conspiracy of the wind to push us into the side and onto the mud/lumps almost continually. Minnow was affected too (although obviously far more skilled in dealing with/avoiding it), and by half past three we decided that we'd had enough of basically taking turns to pull each other off. Hon mensh of the day goes to the patient folk on board Shy Swan who not only pulled us off, but when we finally gave up, ministered to us with tots of brandy! What an excellent idea. The wind has got worse since we stopped too, and is now very... well, windy. Heavy rain is forecast for tonight too, so maybe at least that will put a bit of water back.

On our way to Windmill End

Day 1: Kings Bromley to Great Haywood

I'm writing this on returning from the pub (so what's new?), the pub in question being the Fox and Hounds in Great Haywood, where the new landlord very kindly produced four roast beef dinners for us and Blossom and Dawn, despite not officially doing food on Sunday nights. Not only that but they had London Pride at £2 a pint, and Bass, as well as Bombardier and some northern stuff (Tetleys).

So it was a good ending to the day which was probably rather frustrating for Blossom as Minnow's engine required stripping down. For us there was the excitement of trying to keep up with them this morning (definitely getting faster!), only getting stuck on the bottom a couple of times.

Time for bed now I think.

In preparation

Today has been a day of preparation. We started by stocking up on provisions at Morrisons in Rugeley, then visited Rugeley's rather excellent hardware shop (I finally got a proper paraffin funnel for the Primus, and some handles for the back doors, among other delights) and hit a few of the charity shops, enabling me to acquire a splendid multi-coloured mohair cardigan, obviously unworn and a rejected gift from someone's doting auntie; well, rejected no more. This will be my chilly evening party wear for the duration.

We got some diesel from Kings Bromley Marina, and finally bought a couple of bus bulbs there too - should you be looking for a source of these 12v, 15w bulbs with a standard bayonet fitting. We filled up the water and replenished the oil, and loaded the coal, bath, bicycle etc.

Then Jim rubbed down and primed the back doors, so they will soon be rendered weatherproof. We chatted with Blossom, and Brian from Harnser, who came by. Then we went back to the Old Peculier in Armitage (or is it Handsacre) to try out their menu, and it was good, and the landlady was nice, and the beer was decent (especially for Jim, as they have draught Old Peculier, as you might imagine). So now we are all fuelled up and ready for the off tomorrow.

In passing...

Sort of on the (roundabout) way to Kings Bromley, we dropped off at Thorne to have a look at this. It really is rather nice....

Hooked!

So far, we have been lucky enough not to get anything wrapped round Chertsey's prop. As we are about to visit the BCN for the first time, this charmed state of affairs cannot be expected to last much longer. Naturally, Chertsey is not equipped with anything as wimpish as a weedhatch. I have had a practice go at poking about under the counter with the cabin shaft, and I have also attempted this on Tarporley (before going down, sorry, sending Maryam down, the weedhatch). It is very hard. At least, it is very hard if you are small and uncoordinated and have weak arms and no idea where you're meant to be pointing the thing. So I approach this inevitable task with some trepidation.

Discussing this with Blossom, he said, what you want is to get hold of a shunter's pole, and he described this as bearing a sort of spiral hook which you can work into whatever ails you, and twist it round and round and get a really good grip on it, more effectively than with the cabin shaft. Sounds marvellous I thought, but how esoteric... how much call can there be these days for an implement for manually decoupling railway carriages... I shall keep my eyes open, and if I am lucky, I might find one within the next decade or two.

Then lo and behold if the very subject didn't turn up on CWF, and someone named a supplier - Richard Carter of Huddersfield, established in seventeen forty-something, and purveyor of every agricultural and engineering implement your heart could ever desire, and many more it probably wouldn't. Who knew there were so many different sorts of spade? So we rang them up and spoke the the very obliging Michelle, and soon a shunter's hook on a hickory shaft was winging its way to us. I have just taken a really terrible photo of it, but hopefully you get the general gist. Now I'm torn between excitement at the prospect of trying it out, and hoping (no doubt vainly) that the need won't arise.

So farewell then boating boots

Bought for three pounds ninety nine in Help the Aged in Huddersfield
In 2006. Or it might have been 2007.
The best boots I have ever had
Unlike most Dr Martens, you had fantastic grip
And so were jolly good for boating
You had a good life
But now you are no more
A big crack in the sole letting the water in. I knew the end was coming by the way you flexed.
I have been to Eastbourne today and bought some new boots
Which are waterproof
But they'll never be as good as my boating boots.

with apologies to E.J. Thribb

August

Hmm.

Books I read in August

More than expected...

Charlotte Bingham The Chestnut Tree Attempt at WWII saga that has the air of having been written by a fourteen year old.

Vena Cork Thorn Genuinely chilling stalker tale.

Stephen Booth Blind to the Bones Another hit, well drawn secondary characters (the protagonists I still find a little sketchy) and plenty of brooding atmosphere.

Andrew Taylor Call the Dying I've been impressed in the past by Taylor's more psychological thrillers. This is the first I've read of his 50s-set Lydmouth mysteries; workmanlike but not exactly engrossing.

Stephen Booth The Kill Call I was pleasantly surprised to find this newest Booth when browsing in Smiths, but it's disappointing; it lacks the gripping atmosphere and sense of menace of most of his other books.

Ian Rankin The Complaints While I rate Ian Rankin, unlike many I wouldn't count the Rebus novels in my top three; I find them sometimes a trifle laboured and over-complicated. This - non-Rebus - is excellent though, even if the plot does still run away a bit at the end.

Sophie Hannah The Point of Rescue Preposterous plot, but lovely detail, and actually a real page-turner.

BCN here we come...

It looks as if we will definitely be setting off next weekend, in the company of Blossom, for the Black Country Boating Festival at Windmill End. This will be our first foray onto the BCN, so we are very pleased to have a native guide...

Counting counties

I have never met Jim of narrow boat Starcross, but from his links list I think he may be some sort of kindred spirit: CAMRA, British Roads, Monty Python and... 'Real British Counties', the website of the Association of British Counties, an organisation that seeks to preserve the traditional use of county boundaries and names from the ravages of the Post Office and local government reorganisation, not to mention empire-building cities. (Birmingham is in Warwickshire! Liverpool is in Lancashire!) On their maps you will still find Rutland, and Huntingdonshire (in which Ramsey lies), and the three Ridings of Yorkshire, and a single Sussex.
And these are still perfectly genuine, and valid, and should be used and referred to. But when the Post Office decides that counties are redundant, and more fatally, since 1965, local government has first appropriated the counties as local authority areas, and then altered their boundaries at will, abolished them, and created new ones, it's easy to lose sight of the historic, stable and unchanging counties which could provide a fixed reference point on a constantly shifting map.

My interest in this goes back to when I was eight or nine, and happily (no that's a lie. I hated school) attending school in East Sussex, to be told that as from a certain date (was it January 1st 1974?) I would henceforth be educated by West Sussex. This was probably the same time that Mid Sussex District Council took over the functions of Cuckfield Urban and Lindfield Rural District Councils. Honestly, which would you rather have had. Maybe the fact that I now research and teach about local government can be traced back to this formative experience. I also, while working in Huddersfield heard a splendid story - I would love to believe it to be true - that when Kirklees Council was created, also in the 1974 reorganisation, that the first act of the new authority, based in Huddersfield, was to send council workmen to dig up the superior flagstones from outside Dewsbury Town Hall, which now came within the ambit of the new authority, to install them outside the council's headquarters at Huddersfield Town Hall (a fine building indeed, but not a patch on Wakefield's).

I also like this map (larger version here) because I'm fascinated by counties and their boundaries. It's a novelty when we're in the middle of the country, to keep crossing and recrossing county boundaries, from Derbyshire to Nottinghamshire to Leicestershire; from Warwickshire, to Staffordshire, to Shropshire and Leicestershire again. They're all just so close together in the middle! If you look at where I live, which is just on the right hand pointy bit at the bottom edge of Sussex (the large mauve county on the bottom right of the map), you can see why I find this exciting.

It's got lumps in it!

Yesterday we went to Shoreham. To look at a sea boat. Yes. I know. In its defence, I will say that it didn't have sails. In fact, it was jolly sweet, an ex Hastings fishing boat, the sort that's designed to sit on the beach when the tide's out. Made of wood (Yes. I know.) The thing is, the sea is very near here, while most of the waterways aren't. If you're going to have two boats, maybe a little variety is in order... Well, early days yet (as we always say). But it's going to be great fun reliving the days of crawling over Whilton, only on the lumpy water.

Take a seat

Chertsey's seatboard, now completed by Jim. I must say I'm terrifically impressed. I particularly like the single bird which, if you look at it closely, is clearly a seagull to remind me of home on the coast!

Rain rain

It's been tipping it down here all day. Never have I watched the weather reports for the west Midlands with such morbid interest. However, the sort-out we had over the last couple of days unearthed a Rule bilge pump - with float switch! It's not as powerful as the pump we currently have installed, but would have the inestimable advantage of us not having to go up and switch it on every time it rained... The hold offers a large catchment area for rainwater, which then all collects in the back end and once above the level of the floor - four inches, which doesn't take long - it's lapping about the bottom of the paint tins etc, making them rusty.

Of course, the ideal situation is to minimise the collection of water by diverting it over the sides with some cloths, but I need to regroup the finances a bit first; the gunnels are going to set us back a round thousand pounds, and pretty much the same again for the cloths. So for this winter, I reckon it'll be a case of keep pumping.

Mystery location

I received two canal-themed cards for my birthday last month. One was a charming painting of Cropredy (which I would not have recognised if it hadn't been written on the back, to be honest, but that might just be me), and the other one was presented simply as a generic boaty scene. But where is it? It certainly looks as if it could be Little Venice, but I am intrigued by the fact that there are loads of small boats gathered there, as if for a rally or festival. But on the other hand they don't look exactly trailable so that rules out an unconnected waterway. Answers on the proverbial postcard....

Fill her up, sir?

Been having a bit of a clearout today. The number of things that we really don't need, but still feel we ought to hang on to, is diminishing. For example, I have finally decided to throw out two jigsaw puzzles that I have been carefully husbanding since about 1967. One of then depicts a headscarfed Mrs Rabbit, surrounded by little rabbit-lets, outside her home in a hollow tree, selecting fabrics from the hamper of a travelling tinker who, from his ears, is clearly an elf. This is simply not the sort of thing one sees any more, and I fear we are the poorer for it. If we find the missing two pieces, I shall keep it. The other features Noddy on a wooden train, with Big Ears as the guard, and has nothing to recommend it, really.

But one thing I do still feel obliged to keep, an ancient jumble sale find, is a pristine, never used, set of two-tone green overalls bearing the badge of the Regent Petrol Company. They are jolly smart, and very nearly fit me, being just a trifle over long in the extremities. I spent ten seconds in extensive research and uncovered, from this website that the Regent Petrol Co.:

was founded in 1947 following a merger between Texaco Petroleum Products and Trinidad Leaseholds. Prior to the war the Regent brand name had been used by a small distributor of motor spirit who had been taken over by Trinidad Leaseholds in 1931 and it was this name that the newly merged company used. 1953 saw the end of pooled petrol regulations and Regent began to broaden its operations by selling branded petrol in the UK. The company also had a tanker fleet and this expanded through its Texaco connections. Texaco had various North Sea interests including refineries etc. Texaco took full control of Regent in 1967 by buying out Trinidad Leaseholds and began to phase out the Regent brand in favour of the Texaco brand. Texaco also had other small brand names and in 2004 relaunched them all under the Regent brand where the familiar red white and blue branding can still be seen today.

I am sure I will find the right occasion to don my petrol pump attendant's overalls and wear them with pride... even if their advertising was a bit dodgy. Ahem.

Drilled and pinned

Finally finished attending to the tiller too. Jim has ground the swans neck down sufficiently that the long tiller bar goes right on. He's got the gang of steering it like this now, which is good, because I like it (and need all the leverage I can get). He's drilled it to take the tiller pin, which is the pair of the one Warrior has. It's not actually a sawn down poker, though it looks like one; its a built up handle from something, three separate bits held onto a threaded rod with a nut (which you can just about see in the photo). It probably doesn't need a pin at all to hold the tiller bar in place, but when you have one as nice as that just looking for a role...

Got it covered

We'd been trying to invent some means of making a cover for the air cooling vent so that when the rain was horizontal (or bouncing off the cabin top) it wouldn't run down inside the trunking. And to no avail - although I have since seen a boat with a specially made wooden box that goes over the top. Then Jim came back from a Lifeboat event with two reflective rucksack covers, intended to make cyclists more visible (hence they are emblazened 'East Sussex Fire and Rescue'). Right size, strong elastic, and even a securing strap to go underneath. Perfect. Now all we need to do is find and seal the leak where the water seeps under the flange.