It was a beautiful morning as we rose from our slumber and looked forward to the day ahead; Little realising what a long day it would turn out be. The sky was clear, the sun's warming rays lifting our spirits and whilst we enjoyed breakfast we filled the boat up with water. For now it was farewell to the Erewash canal and first stop Sawley marina to fill our diesel tank. So down the lock and onto the Trent turning right to go through Sawley locks, fill up, turn the boat around near the weir and back again to enter onto the Soar. that was the better part of ninety minutes plus.
Meandering along new waters we enjoyed the views, sailing past the huge cooling towers at Ratcliffe on Soar. I always thought they look rather spectacular. We joined another boat and family for a few locks before stopping for a bite to eat after Kegworth deep lock. It seemed cavernous but oddly enough Pearson' canal guide says that it 7'9" deep. I thought at the time it was twice that depth. We could only open one set of paddles to fill it as it was too violent to do anything else. The central rope was tied round some safety cables in the lock and I had to keep the boat stationary by holding it in forward gear. I still can't believe it's less than eight feet.
But as all things canal there is no rush and the afternoon was drawing on. Some of the locks took longer as we waited for other boaters to pass through and we both said we would find a place to moor for the night, Easier said than done. Plenty of space along the river but every time we tried we were unable to moor due to the shallowness of the banks. On we went and then it was all reeds and we'd been sailing for about eight hours now.
So another lesson was about to be learned. Be even more vigilant if you're weary. Our last lock was Zouch lock and we were hoping that as it was nearly seven in the evening there might be space outside the Rose and Crown at Zouch which has its own moorings. I helped Marian with the lock and as she went to open a gate I walked back down the gunwale opposite to her to steer. Unfortunately I forgot in my tired state that I'd put a rubber fender on the gunwale. Suddenly I found my footing gone and I'm still not sure how I managed to throw my right hand onto the grab rail falling like sack of spuds.
Holding on half in and half out of the water a voice carried over from the other side "Pedro where are you?" I pulled my feet on to the gunwale, hauled myself back on the boat and said feebly "I fell in." Marian who says she loves me burst out laughing. I said that it was a near death experience and she should be more sympathetic which rather than stemming her mirth only served to increase it. To compound my slip I had to sail past a line of moored boats dripping from my waist down trying to look as if this style was normal saying hello to fellow boaters enjoying their summer evening.
We were fortunate to find a place for our seventy feet boat outside the pub. The very pleasant landlady was happy for us to stay there for a couple of nights but did say she kept the space clear for diners as they liked to look out at the view. Well their last diner had left and we were moored. Tired but moored. Oh and wet!
Thursday, 23 March 2017
Part 9 - Leaving the Erewash and reflections
Our time for now on the Erewash was coming to its close and we needed to begin exploring other parts of the network. We returned to moor for a few days at Trent Lock and one of our daughters, her husband and our lovely granddaughter stayed with us over the weekend that we moored there. Jake sorted out my problems with the horn and front light, he's a good electrician and when we readied to leave after the weekend we were all set for tunnels and troubles if encountered. The weather remained idyllic, blue skies, a pleasant temperature and a very peaceful spot.
To be honest we needed the peace was because Marian and I were both feeling a bit stressed after clearing out our five bedroomed, three reception roomed home for the previous three months before sailing onwards. How does one collect that much? It was such a mammoth task and we had to be utterly ruthless in what we were keeping and throwing away. I remember we had completed one room but feeling no further forward. I insisted on taking some items to the local tip as I needed to see some space. I failed, more items appeared out of cupboards and drawers.
It was really difficult and Marian who took the lead role in the clearance was brilliant. The last month was manic with getting items ready for storage, innumerable visits to take things to the charity shop and the refuse site. Then organising storage and I was so very grateful to my friend Andrew who helped me when I needed it most.
You realise that one doesn't need all that clutter and extras to live and certainly not on a boat with limited space. It is looking back emancipating; having what you need to live and not having things which seemed like a great purchase at the time but was rarely used after it was removed from its packaging. Which reminds me I still haven't found my olive stone removing tool!
A week or so before we were to set off, I realised we had to get the things we needed to the boat. that's how I knew it was stressful. How on earth could we forget? So it took five or six journeys of three hundred mile round trips to bring all the items from Somerset to Shardlow where the boat was waiting.
Yes indeed, the peace and tranquillity was much appreciated. Our intention was to sail back along the Trent and Mersey canal and visit some friends and family along the way, but a lock was out of commission for a week at Shardlow so when the sun was up on Monday we were ready to cross that wide confluence and sail onto the river Soar and beyond.
To be honest we needed the peace was because Marian and I were both feeling a bit stressed after clearing out our five bedroomed, three reception roomed home for the previous three months before sailing onwards. How does one collect that much? It was such a mammoth task and we had to be utterly ruthless in what we were keeping and throwing away. I remember we had completed one room but feeling no further forward. I insisted on taking some items to the local tip as I needed to see some space. I failed, more items appeared out of cupboards and drawers.
It was really difficult and Marian who took the lead role in the clearance was brilliant. The last month was manic with getting items ready for storage, innumerable visits to take things to the charity shop and the refuse site. Then organising storage and I was so very grateful to my friend Andrew who helped me when I needed it most.
You realise that one doesn't need all that clutter and extras to live and certainly not on a boat with limited space. It is looking back emancipating; having what you need to live and not having things which seemed like a great purchase at the time but was rarely used after it was removed from its packaging. Which reminds me I still haven't found my olive stone removing tool!
A week or so before we were to set off, I realised we had to get the things we needed to the boat. that's how I knew it was stressful. How on earth could we forget? So it took five or six journeys of three hundred mile round trips to bring all the items from Somerset to Shardlow where the boat was waiting.
Yes indeed, the peace and tranquillity was much appreciated. Our intention was to sail back along the Trent and Mersey canal and visit some friends and family along the way, but a lock was out of commission for a week at Shardlow so when the sun was up on Monday we were ready to cross that wide confluence and sail onto the river Soar and beyond.
Part 8 - Lowering of the pound
Having safely avoided the madness of Stenson lock we managed to find a mooring near Millership way, a stone's throw from Tesco and Dunelm. That of course depends on how big the stone is and how strong ones arm is, but I digress!, Actually maybe one might need a catapult!! But looking at it in more detail we were moored a trebuchet's distance away. That's cleared that up.
It gave us the opportunity to get some supplies from both shops without having to walk and carry goods over a long distance. In the late afternoon another boat moored in front of us in the direction of Langley Mill, the first boat we'd seen moving all day apart from ourselves. I mention this not because it is particularly exciting or dramatic but we realised in the morning he knew something we did not.
Although I think the Erewash is a lovely canal there isn't a great deal of activity and I can't help wonderingwhere people would moor if there was a lot more boats along the stretch? We found many a place looking possible but getting to the bank was nigh impossible because of silt or concrete ledges to high to allow the hull to move close.
Equally we met a couple who said that they were frequent walkers along the canal and we were the first boat they had ever seen going through a lock in two years. Surprising really.
Well, we slept and decided that morning to get up early and shop at nine because some of Marian's family who live close by wanted to sail to the Gallow's Inn after meeting us at the bridge in front of us. The bridge that if climbed and you walk past Argos and Halfords etc takes you to the Dewdrop Inn. Great local and really well kept ales. Always about six to choose from.
When we left the boat all was well but returning an hour later we both remarked that there was a significant list towards the canal from the bank. It looked to my mind, trying to make sense of it, that something had sailed by really fast. I couldn't make sense of it.
But at 7.15 before we'd left for the shops the other boat started up his engine and left. Now I thought at the time that it was early to be on the move but clearly he knew that work was being undertaken by the Canal and River Trust. A pound in canal terms is the stretch between locks. Unbeknown to us the workers had started draining the water in which we were moored.
We got up to the bridge to meet the family but couldn't tie up there either and now the draining of the pound was obvious. Marian rang the family and asked them to meet us at Potter's lock and we sailed towards it. Round a bend and there were the workers who were as surprised to see us as we were them. They told us to go through the lock and asking if there any other boats following me. No was the answer.
Another chap was at the lock to make sure no one entered and he was quite understanding and helped us out and down into the next pound. As we left, there were two boats waiting and one of the boaters asked how I'd got through seeing as they couldn't go through till the next day. I mischievously said I had a special pass. But seeing the look on his face I told him the truth. We didn't know they were draining the pound. But one thinks they might have checked the stretch first and before our boat began to keel over.
It's definitely not always quiet on the Cut!
It gave us the opportunity to get some supplies from both shops without having to walk and carry goods over a long distance. In the late afternoon another boat moored in front of us in the direction of Langley Mill, the first boat we'd seen moving all day apart from ourselves. I mention this not because it is particularly exciting or dramatic but we realised in the morning he knew something we did not.
Although I think the Erewash is a lovely canal there isn't a great deal of activity and I can't help wonderingwhere people would moor if there was a lot more boats along the stretch? We found many a place looking possible but getting to the bank was nigh impossible because of silt or concrete ledges to high to allow the hull to move close.
Equally we met a couple who said that they were frequent walkers along the canal and we were the first boat they had ever seen going through a lock in two years. Surprising really.
Well, we slept and decided that morning to get up early and shop at nine because some of Marian's family who live close by wanted to sail to the Gallow's Inn after meeting us at the bridge in front of us. The bridge that if climbed and you walk past Argos and Halfords etc takes you to the Dewdrop Inn. Great local and really well kept ales. Always about six to choose from.
When we left the boat all was well but returning an hour later we both remarked that there was a significant list towards the canal from the bank. It looked to my mind, trying to make sense of it, that something had sailed by really fast. I couldn't make sense of it.
But at 7.15 before we'd left for the shops the other boat started up his engine and left. Now I thought at the time that it was early to be on the move but clearly he knew that work was being undertaken by the Canal and River Trust. A pound in canal terms is the stretch between locks. Unbeknown to us the workers had started draining the water in which we were moored.
We got up to the bridge to meet the family but couldn't tie up there either and now the draining of the pound was obvious. Marian rang the family and asked them to meet us at Potter's lock and we sailed towards it. Round a bend and there were the workers who were as surprised to see us as we were them. They told us to go through the lock and asking if there any other boats following me. No was the answer.
Another chap was at the lock to make sure no one entered and he was quite understanding and helped us out and down into the next pound. As we left, there were two boats waiting and one of the boaters asked how I'd got through seeing as they couldn't go through till the next day. I mischievously said I had a special pass. But seeing the look on his face I told him the truth. We didn't know they were draining the pound. But one thinks they might have checked the stretch first and before our boat began to keel over.
It's definitely not always quiet on the Cut!
Part 7 - Criminal activity on the Cut
Having left Langley Mill basin we began to wend our way back towards Ilkeston Arriving at Stenson lock at Cotmanhay we were greeted to a most surreal sight. Marian had opened the gate and I was slowly entering the lock when at least twelve to fifteen men appeared from our left in a state of agitation, ran over the bridge in front of us and the lock gates.
I don't think one had to be a genius to recognise nefarious activity occurring. They all shot off in to the bushes across the towpath. One came back clambering over the lock gate behind me with his bike. I'm not sure he would have taken any time to reflect the divine intervention that prevented him from falling in when he tripped. My heart was in my mouth.
Their activity was feverish reminding me of ants excited at having found some crumbs on the floor. Well just as most had disappeared into the bushes two others, clearly the ones they wished to find and dressed in smart attire, ran over the bridge and up the towpath. Then back out of the bushes they came gesticulating, shouting some on foot some on bikes. Honestly it seemed all quite mad.
A couple of minutes later two policemen walked over the bridge, asking us if we'd seen these two men and pointing out the direction they went the policemen thanked us and followed them at a leisurely pace. When I say leisurely I would have overtaken them on the boat. If I was going in their direction of course!
They say crime doesn't pay but I'm not sure the pair whom they were looking for were going to have to cash out that day! Now who says it is quiet on the canals?
I don't think one had to be a genius to recognise nefarious activity occurring. They all shot off in to the bushes across the towpath. One came back clambering over the lock gate behind me with his bike. I'm not sure he would have taken any time to reflect the divine intervention that prevented him from falling in when he tripped. My heart was in my mouth.
Their activity was feverish reminding me of ants excited at having found some crumbs on the floor. Well just as most had disappeared into the bushes two others, clearly the ones they wished to find and dressed in smart attire, ran over the bridge and up the towpath. Then back out of the bushes they came gesticulating, shouting some on foot some on bikes. Honestly it seemed all quite mad.
A couple of minutes later two policemen walked over the bridge, asking us if we'd seen these two men and pointing out the direction they went the policemen thanked us and followed them at a leisurely pace. When I say leisurely I would have overtaken them on the boat. If I was going in their direction of course!
They say crime doesn't pay but I'm not sure the pair whom they were looking for were going to have to cash out that day! Now who says it is quiet on the canals?
Wednesday, 22 March 2017
Part 6 - The Langley Mill jewel
And leaving Ilkeston after nine or ten days we sailed gracefully to Langley Mill. Doesn't that sound grand?! The weather remained warm and pleasant for us but the biggest problem we faced was the plethora of weeds the nearer we approached Langley Mill basin. A couple of times I had to put the propeller into reverse to clear it of unwanted flora, before making our slow and gentle way forward.
Today was another example of learning. Not that it ever stops in life or on a boat! The lesson was always keep your concentration when using the locks. As we came to our last lock which leads into the basin, a grandfather with his grandson wanted to chat about life on the canals. I had the boat on the central rope to keep it stable whilst the water and boat rose. Only I was distracted with joy at the fact they wanted to share their interest. But when the boat was in a position to leave the lock it was tilted starboard side and the central rope was as tight as a drum. I forgot in chatting to the gongoozlers to slacken the rope. Attempting to look like a consummate boater I signalled to Marian as discretely as I could to open the paddles again on the back gates so I could get the rope untied.
Thus loosened we filled the lock again and managed to wind (Pronounced wind as in the wind in the trees, not wind like a watch) and moor in a very tight area for a full length boat. I kept them talking hoping that my error was invisible. If they missed it Marian didn't.
But it's about learning new skills. The constant lesson over the previous weeks was balance when the boat moved and not bang you knees or toes into something hard and unforgiving, like steel or wood. Oh the bruises on my body were like a mosaic. A knee banged, bruised. A toe caught and left painful, and the head cracked against the bulkhead and left with a lump. I began to learn but my spatial awareness seemed to be slower than I would have wished.
There didn't seem to be much in Langley Mill but as we looked around, only a few hundred yards from the basin was a coffee shop/deli. What an oasis in a place which we didn't expect (not disparaging the town). Lovely coffee, lovely food to eat in or takeaway and the staff chatty in a manner that one doesn't see in many pubs these days. If you're in the area pay them a visit, it's worth it.
Today was another example of learning. Not that it ever stops in life or on a boat! The lesson was always keep your concentration when using the locks. As we came to our last lock which leads into the basin, a grandfather with his grandson wanted to chat about life on the canals. I had the boat on the central rope to keep it stable whilst the water and boat rose. Only I was distracted with joy at the fact they wanted to share their interest. But when the boat was in a position to leave the lock it was tilted starboard side and the central rope was as tight as a drum. I forgot in chatting to the gongoozlers to slacken the rope. Attempting to look like a consummate boater I signalled to Marian as discretely as I could to open the paddles again on the back gates so I could get the rope untied.
Thus loosened we filled the lock again and managed to wind (Pronounced wind as in the wind in the trees, not wind like a watch) and moor in a very tight area for a full length boat. I kept them talking hoping that my error was invisible. If they missed it Marian didn't.
But it's about learning new skills. The constant lesson over the previous weeks was balance when the boat moved and not bang you knees or toes into something hard and unforgiving, like steel or wood. Oh the bruises on my body were like a mosaic. A knee banged, bruised. A toe caught and left painful, and the head cracked against the bulkhead and left with a lump. I began to learn but my spatial awareness seemed to be slower than I would have wished.
There didn't seem to be much in Langley Mill but as we looked around, only a few hundred yards from the basin was a coffee shop/deli. What an oasis in a place which we didn't expect (not disparaging the town). Lovely coffee, lovely food to eat in or takeaway and the staff chatty in a manner that one doesn't see in many pubs these days. If you're in the area pay them a visit, it's worth it.
Part 5 - Noises and biting in the dark
I remember in 1981 when Marian and I bought our first house, a little terraced house in a Derbyshire village. We were happy and excited but it never occurred to me that whilst living at my parent's home I had to worry about house things. Now we were responsible for the home and I'd get up to check the gas thinking it might be on, check the doors were locked, again, and hear every creak of the floorboards. Had someone got in? Oh the joys of nervousness and adulthood.
It was a bit like that starting out life on the boat. Sudden awareness of sounds not usual to our ears. So early in the morning, darkness wrapping its arms still around the canal, came this tapping-banging noise. That got me awake. I worried in case someone was on the boat. The tapping moved along the hull and I quickly grabbed my dressing gown and approached the galley. Light on and nothing out of place. It was definitely outside.
Grabbing a torch I opened a side window and there were a pair of swans tapping for food. I shooed them off, unsuccessfully, but did have words with them over the next couple of days when I saw them. Marian looked at me with a sad expression. After 38 years I knew that look. It was he's a little bit bonkers look.
Now I can't offer scientific evidence that shows the swans and I understood each other but they only did it twice more. Marian said it was because we hadn't fed them. But I knew she just wanted to keep me grounded.
Whilst we moored at the Gallows Inn area another boat moored for a day or two. We were sitting in the bow on a warm summer evening enjoying a glass of wine. The other owner, a friendly chap came over to chat. I soon started to scratch and realised that I had become attractive to a band of merciless mosquitoes which were happily helping themselves to my blood without permission.
The conversation was curtailed and we bid him goodnight to scratch and put some fluid on to reduce the itching. But the wretched insects were on board the boat. We were paranoid for a few days and nights particularly when you could hear them flying past your ears. For three consecutive mornings we awoke and Marian said "there's one," pointing to the panelling on her side of the bed. I had my slipper in hand and whacked it. Perfect shot. Only to find age plays cruel tricks on this poor soul.
The vision is not as acute these days and when I found and put on my spectacles it emerged from being a squashed insect to a mere blemish on the wood. On the third morning we decided that this blemish didn't need to highlighted again in conversation.
Interestingly after those few days word had got around in the mosquito community that they were not invited and we weren't visited again in 2016.
It was a bit like that starting out life on the boat. Sudden awareness of sounds not usual to our ears. So early in the morning, darkness wrapping its arms still around the canal, came this tapping-banging noise. That got me awake. I worried in case someone was on the boat. The tapping moved along the hull and I quickly grabbed my dressing gown and approached the galley. Light on and nothing out of place. It was definitely outside.
Grabbing a torch I opened a side window and there were a pair of swans tapping for food. I shooed them off, unsuccessfully, but did have words with them over the next couple of days when I saw them. Marian looked at me with a sad expression. After 38 years I knew that look. It was he's a little bit bonkers look.
Now I can't offer scientific evidence that shows the swans and I understood each other but they only did it twice more. Marian said it was because we hadn't fed them. But I knew she just wanted to keep me grounded.
Whilst we moored at the Gallows Inn area another boat moored for a day or two. We were sitting in the bow on a warm summer evening enjoying a glass of wine. The other owner, a friendly chap came over to chat. I soon started to scratch and realised that I had become attractive to a band of merciless mosquitoes which were happily helping themselves to my blood without permission.
The conversation was curtailed and we bid him goodnight to scratch and put some fluid on to reduce the itching. But the wretched insects were on board the boat. We were paranoid for a few days and nights particularly when you could hear them flying past your ears. For three consecutive mornings we awoke and Marian said "there's one," pointing to the panelling on her side of the bed. I had my slipper in hand and whacked it. Perfect shot. Only to find age plays cruel tricks on this poor soul.
The vision is not as acute these days and when I found and put on my spectacles it emerged from being a squashed insect to a mere blemish on the wood. On the third morning we decided that this blemish didn't need to highlighted again in conversation.
Interestingly after those few days word had got around in the mosquito community that they were not invited and we weren't visited again in 2016.
Tuesday, 21 March 2017
Part 4 - Still on the Learning curve
I didn't expect to feel trepidation or a sense of anxiety when we decided to take the leap of faith, but I did. We had sailed on hire boats but there was never the need to worry about one of the vital components of the boat. That is the engine. It was someone else's, namely, the hire company.
Now it was mine and I knew nothing about engines but I realised I would have to do something about my ignorance. The engine provides propulsion but also importantly it charges up ones batteries for much needed electricity. Plus they need servicing on a regular basis if you want to preserve their life span and reduce wear and tear.
I was looking on line in relation to boat maintenance before we set off and came across a weekend course run by the RCR (river canal rescue). so I booked to attend it in mid July 2016. £120 and was it worth it. Most certainly. It was the best £120 I've spent in many a day. The course is some talk and then practical. Why was it worth it? Well I moved from total ignorance of engine maintenance to partial ignorance.
I came out with knowledge, intellectual and practical. for servicing the engine. for knowing things to look out for and when issues were arising. Brilliant!
Later on our journey we met a lovely couple who had started out on their time living on the canal. In conversation Andrew said that him and his wife had had their new boat serviced professionally before they embarked on their venture. The cost £300. My cost £120 for the course. £80 for the oil and filters. Total cost £100 less than they had paid. And I've saved money ever since and look after the longevity of my best friend- apart from Marian- Beta Marine 50.
Don't get me wrong I was anxious the first time I serviced the engine and in truth the second time (another story) but I am more competent now and grateful to Jay and Trevor at the RCR who guided me and instructed me on boat engine maintenance.
tbc
Now it was mine and I knew nothing about engines but I realised I would have to do something about my ignorance. The engine provides propulsion but also importantly it charges up ones batteries for much needed electricity. Plus they need servicing on a regular basis if you want to preserve their life span and reduce wear and tear.
I was looking on line in relation to boat maintenance before we set off and came across a weekend course run by the RCR (river canal rescue). so I booked to attend it in mid July 2016. £120 and was it worth it. Most certainly. It was the best £120 I've spent in many a day. The course is some talk and then practical. Why was it worth it? Well I moved from total ignorance of engine maintenance to partial ignorance.
I came out with knowledge, intellectual and practical. for servicing the engine. for knowing things to look out for and when issues were arising. Brilliant!
Later on our journey we met a lovely couple who had started out on their time living on the canal. In conversation Andrew said that him and his wife had had their new boat serviced professionally before they embarked on their venture. The cost £300. My cost £120 for the course. £80 for the oil and filters. Total cost £100 less than they had paid. And I've saved money ever since and look after the longevity of my best friend- apart from Marian- Beta Marine 50.
Don't get me wrong I was anxious the first time I serviced the engine and in truth the second time (another story) but I am more competent now and grateful to Jay and Trevor at the RCR who guided me and instructed me on boat engine maintenance.
tbc
Part 3 Providence and Harmony at Trent Lock
The sun rose slowly over the Cut and we climbed slowly from our bed to the breakfast table. The lithe supple bodies have gradually diminished and become a series of minor groans related to the knees or back. We were nearer to breaking our fast but no nearer to resolving our difficulty to get a key that would operate the lock. We noticed movement through our window on the starboard side. It was a boat reversing from a dry dock sited on the opposite bank.
Named Harmony, which didn't reflect the feeling we were sharing the owner then moved the boat in front of ours to moor and to take on water. The perfect time for me to discard some unwanted items in the boat, deposit it in the waste bins provided for boaters and talk to the other boats skipper. You never know he might be able to offer me a useful suggestion.
Climbing out from the cratch (the canopy over the bow) I learnt another thing. The skipper was topping up his diesel tank from a jerry can. Brilliant I thought because one wouldn't wish to run short particularly in the winter and encounter all the problems with bleeding the fuel feed for the engine. So Halfords in Ilkeston was paid a visit a few days later when we reached it.
Chatting with Harmony's owner he said that we wouldn't be able to go along the canal without what is euphemistically called a handcuff key. But then he said he had a spare which cost him £5 and he would be happy to help us by selling it back at the same price. The first of many random pieces of kindness, providence or good fortune.
We were able now to sail along the Erewash and Harmony had restored our harmony. A reminder to all of us that help freely given can be found at the most unlikely times and places and there is more goodness than we think.
It was our first time on this stretch of canal and I think it is lovely. A mix of the rural and urban, friendly people on the towpath and a mother in law waiting for our arrival in Ilkeston.
Named Harmony, which didn't reflect the feeling we were sharing the owner then moved the boat in front of ours to moor and to take on water. The perfect time for me to discard some unwanted items in the boat, deposit it in the waste bins provided for boaters and talk to the other boats skipper. You never know he might be able to offer me a useful suggestion.
Climbing out from the cratch (the canopy over the bow) I learnt another thing. The skipper was topping up his diesel tank from a jerry can. Brilliant I thought because one wouldn't wish to run short particularly in the winter and encounter all the problems with bleeding the fuel feed for the engine. So Halfords in Ilkeston was paid a visit a few days later when we reached it.
Chatting with Harmony's owner he said that we wouldn't be able to go along the canal without what is euphemistically called a handcuff key. But then he said he had a spare which cost him £5 and he would be happy to help us by selling it back at the same price. The first of many random pieces of kindness, providence or good fortune.
We were able now to sail along the Erewash and Harmony had restored our harmony. A reminder to all of us that help freely given can be found at the most unlikely times and places and there is more goodness than we think.
It was our first time on this stretch of canal and I think it is lovely. A mix of the rural and urban, friendly people on the towpath and a mother in law waiting for our arrival in Ilkeston.
Monday, 20 March 2017
Part 2 The Erewash canal
Learning quickly that boat life needs a different approach
Now we are below the first lock waiting to enter the Erewash proper at Trent Lock and we have another problem. Marian seems to be taking ages to empty the lock chamber and when I ask why she says that she can't turn the windlass because there is a lock on the gate paddle.
Now we'd been on hire boats over the years so weren't complete novices, in fact spent a fortnight on one in April 2016 on the Llangollen. But some things were new, such as licencing the boat, insurance etc.
Part of me thinks that if you buy a licence for the first time from the Canal and River Trust they might send you an email with helpful reminders. I did get one but it was mainly about how they monitor your sailing and whether they deem you to be in breach of the continuous cruising licence and how they will respond. Welcome indeed to the cut.
One thing they might have told us was the need for a type of key if we came across this type of anti vandal lock. Well we were now both wondering what on earth we were going to do to get through the lock when good fortune once again favoured us. A boat was approaching the lock (the only movement we saw that day) and they explained the need for a key and helped us by coming down then waiting for us to rise and replace the locking device before they continued on their cruise. We were very grateful but as soon as we were moored I realised that now we had another problem. We would need a key to continue along the canal. We were stuck!
Where did you find them? How would we get one? Nothing for it but have a pint and see what morning brought.
Part 1 STARTING OUT
Independence day 2016
The day began with the knowledge that the domestic battery alternator was not charging the batteries, and we needed to leave the marina our new home was moored in. The RCR (incidentally a truly great company) they came to the boat but said they couldn't look into the cause as their service was not domestic related. But a fellow boater who was having a few problems himself suggested the man helping him maybe able to assist us.
To be honest we were desperate to sail and the whole scenario was looking like we scuppered before untying the mooring ropes. The RCR mechanic got someone to help but it wasn't going to be for a week. However Gary came across from the other boat, looked at our problem, diagnosed the fault and with the aid of an electrical spare corrected it. With enormous relief and the batteries charging we set forth from Shardlow and on to the rather wide current of the mighty Trent river.
Our Leap of Faith had begun with just one of many random acts of kindness we have so far encountered. It wasn't to be long before the next one. Now how is that for creating suspense?
Sailing over the river it was a short trip to the Erewash canal. Easy enough but then the turn onto the canal is made more difficult because as you turn it is at a 45 degree angle behind you and the current wants to push the boat away. We made this big turn and realising much to my wife's horror that greater power was required, I revved the engine up and aimed for the canal bank. Marian waved madly for me to slow down convinced that I was not only now running at ramming speed but I was most definitely going to ram the concrete bank. Boat half in sedate canal waters, wide arc on the tiller, hard reverse and who would have thought any panic was registered in the bow section.
tbc
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Post 18 - Harecastle tunnel
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