A sense of abandonment

Walking the Sheffield and Tinsley Canal (1)

This is the most abandoned stretch of canal I have seen that isn't actually abandoned. More so by far than the Coventry as it struggles into the city of that name; more even than the far flung outposts of the BCN, which at least has the BCN Society to love it.

I tried to find a Sheffield and Tinsley Canal Society, and failed. The South Yorkshire and Dukeries branch of the IWA apparently organised a clean-up only a couple of weeks ago, so I found myself, most unexpectedly, at the weekend, rejoining the IWA.

There were runners and cyclists and fishermen - in dribs and drabs rather than droves - but not a single moving boat until I got to the locks. And to be honest, I would think twice about negotiating this rubbish, rope and plastic bag strewn stretch even if I could.

This is a canal that feels unloved.

A walk and a ride

I went for a walk this morning. About five and a half miles in total, of which approximately half was new territory for me. This was somewhere I was supposed to visit in 2009, but never quite made it. I can't get there by that means any more (and indeed, not many people seem to be trying), but I finally got there on foot. Once I got there the sun shone for a bit, then I turned away from one attraction, and treated myself to a new means of transport to get part of the way home. I took some photos, but they're on my phone, and only Windows can get them off. I might have enough material to spin out for the best part of the week... Just from one little walk. And I've already got the next stage planned.

Need to know...

I've been asked for my personal 'Top Five Things You Need to Know About a Narrow Boat Holiday'.

I haven't really given it much thought yet, but I thought I would throw it open to you, as you're bound to come up with things I won't have thought of.

I do remember one good tip under the heading 'what should you take with you on a hire boat holiday' which was a breadknife, on the grounds that the one that comes with the boat will have been down the weedhatch so many times it'll be no good for slicing bread.

I'll start my list here and add to it as and when I think of things...

1. The weather is very unreliable. Bring a variety of clothes, waterproofs, and sunscreen.
2. Sensible shoes, with good wet grip on smooth surfaces and, ideally, waterproof.
3. The windlass goes on the spindle with the handle pointing outwards.
4. Don't bother bringing all those books you meant to read/that novel you're writing. Somehow, although nothing happens, there won't be any spare time.
5. Things will go wrong. Don't worry about it.

A little light restoration

Grand Union boats like Chertsey, when they were built in the 1930s, were equipped with the latest modern conveniences, like electric light in the cabins. No dirty smokey hot oil lamps for them!

At some point in its history, Chertsey's electric lighting was removed, and for a long time we have been looking out for suitable replacements. What we - or rather, Jim - eventually found are not the same as the original fittings would have been - but as the cabin itself (being solid oak) is rather obviously not the same as the original one either, this didn't seem to matter too much. What we have got are a pair of old boat bulkhead lights (Bakewell has one the same in its back cabin) with frosted glass jelly mould shades. Jim got them at the boat jumble at Ardingly Showground last summer when he was there with the Lifeboat 'Advice on Board' (formerly Sea Safety) team. These seem to fit the bill very nicely.

One on them has an integral switch, and that one is over the bed. The other didn't have a switch, so a redundant one from A.N. Other boat (sssshhh...) has been co-opted for the light over the table cupboard.

I haven't seen these in the flesh since Jim fitted them but he has sent these photos to give me - and you - a taste of electric cabin luxury. As the glass is frosted, you can't see that they are fitted with LED bulbs - a bit of a blessing given that Chertsey still has just the one battery and a dynamo charging it.

Silent Sunday 2

Poignant Port Pictures

Here are some more lovely pictures from Ellesmere Port, round the back.

I have no idea what most of them are, except for the (part of) one which has Formalhaut chalked on it - surely the least mellifluously named of all the 'Star Class' (unless of course you know different).

This is what A.M.Models' website has on Formalhaut:
In 1943, she was on hire to the Erewash Canal Carrying Company (ECCCo) and in use as a change boat and, during this time, she was involved in a collision whilst towing three buttys (steerer G Smith) near Ansty with A Wander’s ‘Thomas’ By the end of the year she was back with GUCCCo. and was working with the butty Ruislip for a time, still with G Smith as steerer. With the nationalisation of inland waterways in 1948, the ownership of Formalhaut passed to the British Transport Commission (Docks and Inland Waterways Executive).  She was recorded as being in fair condition but required docking – perhaps the work was not done in time as she sank in the River Lee that year.  The following year she was transferred to the Engineering Department at Gloucester for use as a canal maintenance boat and allocated the number B7. In 1964 Formalhaut was sold into private ownership and, during the next 12 years, was renamed at least four times (including the names Mattie and Gandalf).  She was owned for a while by the Tewkesbury Cruising and Sailing Club.  Over a period of 20 years she had at least seven private owners and is recorded as attending several rallies.  By December 1973 Formalhaut was reported as being sunk on the River Lee however, all was not lost, and in 1980 she had a new Lister SL2 engine installed and had reverted to her original name. Finally, in 1983, because of her poor condition, she was gifted to The Boat Museum at Ellesmere Port.  Before the new shop was built, she was displayed for a while on land outside the museum entrance.   In June 1995 she was dismantled.

I bet they just love having boats gifted to them 'because of their poor condition'!

Coming home

Two of the blogs I'm following at the moment are journeys home. Lucy Belle is on her way from the Soar to Bugsworth on the Peak Forest, and now Willow has left Langley Mill on the Erewash on the way home to Cambridge. Both of these are the journey home for a new boat - in Lucy Belle's case, a first ever boat, with a baptism of fire for her owners, who seem to be taking to it like the proverbial ducks to water; while the Ducks themselves of course are ducks no longer, having swapped Lucky Duck for their dream working boat, Willow. There's something very special about that first trip, bringing home a new (to you) boat; working with it for the first time, getting to know it; beginning - and I don't think it's too fanciful - to form a relationship with it. A partnership which, just like a human one, will no doubt involve a great deal of shouting and swearing, and possibly violence, but will also reward you with incomparable moments of  sublime pleasure.

Such thoughts led me to look back on Chertsey's journey home - a short one, accomplished in a day, and under tow - but oh what a day it was. When we brought Chertsey to Stretton that first time in September 2009 we didn't know that that would end up as its home, but I'm glad it has. For one thing, someone (and I'm afraid I forget who) worked out that it's the second best place on the whole system in terms of the number of different waterways you can get to within a certain period of time (and here my memory for figures lets me down again, but it was something like two days). As the top place was probably somewhere like the middle of Birmingham, that's not bad at all.

More comparable to Willow's journey, however, and the experience of steering a new (and big) boat for the first time, was when we left Stretton with Chertsey travelling under its own power for the first time in something like thirty years, heading to Braunston in June 2010. This was a rather more fraught and hair raising journey, but it too had its moments of pure joy - successful turns both into and out of the Coventry, as I recall, the latter never so far repeated.

I'm getting quite frustrated now about the lack of boating so far this year - and comparatively little last year as well. Let's hope we can make up for it soon.

I just had to go back and look at the photographs of that wonderful day - September 24th 2009 - to select a new one to illustrate this post, and lost myself in them for quite a while....

Does B&M Bargains count?

The Great Supermarket Swerve has encountered a dilemma. Yesterday I took an afternoon constitutional to B&M bargains, mainly for cough mixture and 75mg aspirins, but while I was there I picked up two tins of Pataks curry sauce, a bottle of wine and a box of teabags. Of course, they actually sell quite a lot of (often good and unusual) tinned food in there. So do I have to count this towards my supermarket total? Obviously, it's not one of the major axis of evil supermarkets, but then neither is Spar, and I counted that.

Do I get a dispensation because it's not very convenient and gives me a good long walk (nearly four miles if I walk back too, as I did yesterday, pausing only for a sustaining half in the University Arms on the way). And what about the non food groceries like washing powder and toothpaste, which I tend to get either in B&M or Wilkinsons (also suitably distant)?

This is proving more complex than I anticipated.

However, I did also go into the greengrocer's (it's called Fruit-a-Peel, by the way, but you can't have everything) and bought not only fruit, veg and salad, but also cottage cheese, milk, yogurts and dried apricots; i.e. as much as I could and more than I could comfortably carry along with all the other stuff.

So far I have managed to stay out of the charity shops and have thus avoided clothes purchases. I did buy a cushion in Wilkos to fill a very nice cover I got in Stourbridge, but perhaps there should be some sort of de minimus rule for household goods....

Pretty Port Pictures

Although we bottled out of boating to Ellesmere Port in last week's arctic winds, we found the nerve to go up by car on Sunday and brave the taunts of  'fair weather boaters' - although of the three people who told us that it really wasn't that bad, two of them had tugs, and the other (naming no names) was probably going too fast to be affected...

Anyway, Sunday produced some surprisingly lovely weather; it was cold but sunny, and wrapped in several woolly layers it was actually very pleasant. Attendance was somewhat thinner than in 2011, but we still managed to catch up with quite a few people, and of course, to take some rather nice pictures.

A special mention must go to the curry stall, whose output was not only delicious, but genuinely ethically committed too in their sourcing, and from what I heard from others, understanding of and committed to people's dietary requirements. By the time we were ready to eat only the vegan options remained - potato and pea for Jim, and chick pea for me, both with very tasty brown basmati rice.

Spring resolution gets off to a shaky start

I had already made a resolution of sorts - April would be my own austerity month, when I would make serious inroads into January's CRT licence overdraft by foregoing the purchase of clothes, household goods and anything from Amazon.

Then yesterday I read this article, which reminded my how dreadful the big supermarkets are (I already knew of course, but one does require constant reminders) and I decided that rather than try and go vegan again, which was one thing I was tempted to do, I would instead try not to use supermarkets for a month - at least; if it's possible for a month than it must be possible for longer. In my little Sheffield village the shops include a greengrocer (open from 7 am to 6 pm) who also sells local milk, yogurt, etc.; and a butcher (so if I want to eat meat I will have to be brave and ask for it), while a mile or so away can be found Beanies wholefood co-op, agonisingly trendy purveyors of expensive vegetables and surprisingly cheap organic lentils, wholemeal pasta etc. This being studentville, you simply can't get brown rice anywhere else. They also carry bakery products, but getting my daily bread there would kipper the austerity drive.

When I moved here, but six months ago, there was one supermarket, a Euro Spar (not quite sure what the Euro adds but it's there). This is still the largest supermarket but within the past half year it has been supplemented (and may yet be supplanted) by both a Tesco Metro and a Sainsbury's Local. As supermarkets go I suspect Spar may not be in the same league of evil as members of the big four; indeed, it might need my custom to keep going and fend the others off. So if I do require anything that can't be got elsewhere, I shan't feel too guilty about patronising Spar - as indeed as I had to on my return this afternoon, needing milk and bread, and the greengrocer taking a well deserved bank holiday break. So I got a pint of milk, reduced to 29p, and a loaf of bread at 19p, and thus have spent, so far this April, 48p in a supermarket.

I will keep you posted on the progress of the supermarket avoidance challenge.

Not so silent Saturday night

Not every Sunday's going to be a Silent Sunday; not when I have something to say...

I have stayed away from the CanalWorld Forum for a long time. I know lots ofpeople who say that they read it every day but rarely if ever post, and I simply do not know how they do it. As soon as I log in, I read something that demands a response - whether praise, derision or reasoned argument - and I can not leave it alone. Even if I determine not to respond, the arguments are forming themselves in my head, demanding an outlet. Which only makes things worse of course as trying to engage in reasoned argument with the internet is a mug's game in 97.6% of cases (spurious statistic I just made up). So the only course of action to spare my time and my sanity is to go cold turkey; log out, wipe it from the computer's memory and stay away until the craving finally abates. And I have done this quite successfully.

Jim on the other hand still indulges occasionally, which is how we knew that a big banter was planned for last night in the Navigation, Gnosall. As this is only a few miles away (one of those rarer cases of it being further bybroad than by canal) it would have seemed churlish in the extreme not to put in an appearance, so we did, renewing our acquaintance with a great many very sound, sensible and likeable people, including (but not limited to, because someone, no matter how worthy, is bound to have slipped my mind amongst all the Sunbeam), Smelly, Lonewolf, Victor Vectis, Little Else, Cheshire Rose, Postcode, Blue String Pudding, Tree Frog, Purple Fairie, Smudge, Alan Fincher, Catrin, Dyad, Alan [forgotten initial], Bazza, Madcat, the boater formerly known as Baldock and Lise, RWLP and Mrs Tawny Owl, and many, many more. Pleasingly, many of the more irritating forumites were not in attendance.

All in all it was a splendid social event and a most enjoyable evening, including a music quiz with no music, which was novel. I did find myself promising that I would go back to the forum again... We shall see.

Plaques in place

Another little job completed - Chertsey's historic plaques in pride of place at last. The 1970 IWA rally on the Wey, 1973 NBOC gathering at Fradley, the re-opening of the upper Avon in 1974, and a gathering at the Black Country Museum in 1981.

All topped off with a newly purchased but now historic NBOC plaque - from now on, new club plaques will say HNBC.

Inside I have the commemorative plaques I've started to collect, strictly for gatherings that Chertsey has been to. Two Braunston key fob tags (they didn't do one last year, which was a great shame); last year's Droitwich gathering, and Retford and Worksop Boat Club from the year before, and our very first one, from Windmill End in 2010. I also have two BCNS Bonfire plaques - one which belongs on Bakewell, from when we went there with Aldgate, and one from last year for Chertsey, when we didn't go at all despite having registered. I'm not sure what to do with that one!

Bricking it

Today we had a little play with the newspaper-log-making machine that we got in the Cats' Protection League shop in Stourbridge on Wednesday. It was brand new, in its unopened box - a hopeful gift maybe.  Ever keen to discover new ways to get rid of old copies of the Guardian, we had, since Wednesday evening, been depositing them in a large bucket of water.

The basic device looks like this:

The mushy paper is piled in:

The insert placed over the top and pressure applied using leverage on the two crossed arms

A minor design fault becomes apparent at this stage, which is that the water squeezed out through the top of the insert has no means of escape and has to be tipped out - tricky whilst keeping the pressure up at the same time.

Once as much water as possible has been expelled, the insert is removed, followed by the whole liner, now containing a brick of compressed newspaper pulp.

This then has to be left to dry - I suspect that the manufacture of these things is an activity better suited to the summer months - although one would need to beware of sudden downpours, or you could have a right mess on your hands.

How long they will take to dry out, and how well they will burn remains to be seen, but rest assured I shall report back as soon as I know.

As you can see, we did also try to incorporate some old cardboard, which looks to have been rather less successful and is probably better avoided in future.

A change of scene

I don't know whether you've been following the adventures of Lucy Belle (you really should) as Jemma the Dog and her intrepid crew of narrowboat novices tackle the Soar in flood and other obstacles between Pillings Lock and Lucy Belle's new mooring at Bugsworth. Such boldness deserves to be rewarded with Jasper's finest buns, so at luncthime we set off, pausing only to purchase said buns, for Handsacre, where we parked in the car park of the Crown, which was to be our rendezvous this evening.

From there we set off for a much needed walk in the direction of Alrewas, whence Lucy Belle had set off (and, being from Burton, they can even pronounce it properly, whereas we stick with the tried and tested 'Old Walrus'). We'd gone about two and a half miles when we decided to stop and wait at Wood End lock. The weather was certainly much improved on the last few days, although everything's relative and it was still pretty damn cold. Quite a few (well, about half a dozen) boats were moving towards Great Haywood, but only one the other way. After two other boats, Lucy Belle appeared on the horizon, so after the lock we hitched a lift back towards Handsacre, passing Chertsey's old mooring at Kings Bromley Wharf on the way. The piece of ploythene sheet I attached to the guttering downpipe to discourage it from discharging into Chertsey's hold is still there, I was pleased to see, but wasn't surprised to note that no one else has taken up that particular mooring.

On arrival at Handsacre we went into the dog-friendly Crown, but didn't find it particularly alluring. On paper (ok, on t'internet) there's not a lot to choose between this pub and the main alternative, the Old Peculiar - and the only available beer, Bass, gave no cause for complaint. But there was just a general atmosphere of not-quite-rightness, and despite their website's promise of fresh local food, no one was eating. So we moved on to the Old Peculiar, and you could tell as soon as you walked in the door that this was a different kettle of fish - warm, welcoming and busy, with every table reserved for the regular quiz, but they squeezed us in for a quick meal which was good solid pub food at a reasonable price.

It did feel good to be back on the towpath and working the odd lock again I must say, even though I'm sure we wouldn't have been thinking that if we'd been doing it earlier in the week. So many thanks to Jemma and her crew on Lucy Belle, and bon voyage to Bugsworth.

A glassy day out

Having decided to stay put here rather than brave the weather, we have been looking for ways to spend our Easter holiday (I having booked time off work for the purpose).

Today we decided to revisit Stourbridge, where we had such a success in the charity shops last time, and this time to pay a visit to the various museums and studios commemorating and continuing the town's glassmaking heritage.

The charity shops were a disappointment this time, yielding me only a nice little pair of red (Clarks) shoes - a good find, as it's a style I admired when they were in the shops last year. In an unheard of turn of events, Jim actually bought more than me, with some trousers and a new guest tent (so don't buy one, Dr Duct!) for the hold, plus a joint purchase, one of those devices for making logettes out of old newspaper. I've always wondered whether they worked, and now I can find out, for a fraction of the price of a new one.

And then to the Red House Glass Cone, which as well as hosting a small museum and demonstrations of glassmaking, is home to a number of artists and craftspeople working in glass and ceramics and producing some really beautiful stuff.

I particularly liked this cameo glass vase, although unlike many of the pieces for sale, it was somewhat out of my price range.

The museum part featured the obligatory odd narrow boat exhibit:

And these rather lovely glass curtains, forever blowing in a stiff vitreous breeze:

We rounded the visit off with hot chocolate in the Red House coffee shop, which was also very nice, if somewhat empty on a day like today.

We had intended to visit the Broadfield House glass museum on the way home, but as it was well past lunchtime, decided to leave that for another day.

Tomorrow, some vaguely boat-related action is promised!

Whether we like it or not

For those of you who like weather forecasts, Jim heartily recommends Weatherweb. It is rather good, especially for longer term forecasts. As you can imagine, we have been awaiting each daily update with bated breath, it being the high spot of our day.



Hmm, I (or Blogpress) have totally buggered up that link. Just type www.weatherweb.net

Spring has been cancelled

After a madly busy week, I dashed down from Sheffield on Saturday to make the final preparations for setting off to Ellesmere Port. The original plan had been to leave on Sunday, but we decided that Monday would be ok, and would give us time to gather our wits and shop for provisions for the (ahem) four or five day journey. Jim has spent weeks getting Chertsey ready, cleaning, painting and polishing, servicing the engine (and painting that too) and after a busy half-semester at work I was itching to be boating.

Over the last few days though it gradually dawned on me, as the snow fell in ever increasing quantities, the temperature plummetted, and worst of all, the wind whipped itself into gale force gusts, that the weather might be about to put a spanner in the works - not for the first time of course.

I have had lovely times in the past boating in the cold and snow, well wrapped up. The time we moved Chertsey from Kings Bromley was one such, with the sun twinkling on the snow. Of course, on that trip we did only get as fat as Great Hayward before becoming trapped by the ice and having to abandon Chertsey there for seven weeks.

There have been many times we have boated in pouring rain, and while not pleasant, it is certainly doable.

But one lesson I have learned, and learned well, is that trying to boat in the wind, on a boat like this, is a recipe for misery and quite possibly disaster as well. Getting constantly blown onto the bank and stuck on the bottom is frustrating enough when the weather is relatively warm; when the ground is frozen and the wind Siberian, it hardly bears thinking about. Constant wind makes communication hard, dries out your throat and skin... In my book it is the very worst weather for boating, and I won't set off in wind now unless I absolutely have to.

So, with the forecast for more of the same, and possibly even colder, until the weekend, and possible rain next week, we have very sadly decided not to set off for the Port after all. A small part of me (and a big part of Jim) feels that this is a bit wimpy, and we should battle through and savour the sense of achievement that would eventually accrue. But... let's not forget we are meant to be doing this for enjoyment; our livelihood doesn't depend on it and if it's more suffering than fun, there really isn't any point.

So instead we are battening down the hatches, stuffing the cleverly shaped pieces of Celotex left by the previous owner into the window recesses, and hunkering down under multiple layers of bedclothes by night, and sitting by the fire watching a hotpot cooking away on the stove by day.

The cancellation of spring has, I'm afraid, caused great inconvenience to our journey. Let's just hope that summer is not delayed as well.

Silent Sunday 1

Plaque panels

This area, on the starboard side just inside Chertsey's back doors, has needed attention ever since we bought the boat. The graining was flaking of, and, unlike that on the doors (by Ian Kemp) the painting wasn't really of a standard worth saving. Normally, I'll save anything if I can, but I had a better idea for these panels.

Chertsey came with a very small collection - four, to be precise - of rally plaques, dating from between 1970 and 1981. They are going to be displayed in the lower section. At the top will go my big, heavy NBOC plaque. Following the earlier name change from  Narrow Boat Owners Club to Historic Narrow Boat Owners Club, the plaque wasn't changed (I suppose it was hard to fit in an extra letter); however, following the recent change to Historic Narrrow Boat Club, a new batch of plaques, reading HNBC, have been ordered. Naturally I snapped up one of the old ones while I could and it will have pride of place here.

The plaques will be mounted onto a crimson background, while the framing will be cream, to match the back doors. Many thanks to Jim of course for painting it in my absence.

Bling polished? Check.

Nearly ready for the off now.