Pickingupducks

Planning to manage BST – British Shallow Time

So two weeks ago, we left you at a point where we had a broken boat and immense frustration at the state of the canals. A family holiday with the invaluable perspective of an eight year-old has helped immensely, as have beautiful Welsh beaches, seaside pubs and glorious countryside.

Tackling everything in turn, the broken Boat has been fixed thanks to Middlewich Wharf. It turned out that we weren’t the only ones exhausted. Preaux now has a new exhaust and it didn’t come in at B.O.A.T. (bring out another thousand) – quite. It appears that the black smoke and propulsion issue was caused by a hole in the exhaust which in turn had clogged the air filter, which meant everything was choked up. She’s running miles better now, the only thing that we now have is a strange rattle, but that could well be one of the many paint or other cans that are down in the engine bay and need sorting.

We talked a lot on holiday about options of what we should do and realised that the main issue for us was suddenly we had a lack of choice and freedom. Our boat home has always meant choice. The ability to move when we wanted to. To go in directions familiar or unfamiliar as we choose.

As climate change is impacting the Canal network and water shortage is biting each summer now it means that our choice or options have been reduced, so it’s not our choice where we cruise, instead we can only go where there is water to do so. Staying put can mean getting stuck, because of closed locks or stranded on silt as levels fall, leading to living life at very uncomfortable angles.

Once back we decided to head over to support and volunteer at a village event in Leicestershire where we used to live. Getting there should have been straightforward given that it’s on the inland waterways network, but the operative word is should… because of a lack of water.

There is a significant debate amongst boaters as to whether this lack of water is not just climate change but exacerbated by poor management by Canal & River Trust. CRT is a charity and the body to whom we boaters pay our licence fee. We are well aware that their grant from the government has been cut, but basic maintenance of locks and other mechanisms like sluices across the network are an issue. Day after day we hear from people who are saying we’re sitting by a leaking lock or a sluice and we have done the same thing. We’ve reported it numerous times. Nothing has happened. It is frustrating as a boater to be in that situation, trying to support the network. CRT issued a statement yesterday evening saying: “We have activated our highest level of operational response and are redirecting as much resources as possible towards projects that help conserve water and keep boats moving. This is our top priority.”

They have also confirmed 45 closures of navigation at the moment (more than I saw on today’s map!) and admitted that the drought has been more sudden and had a more dramatic impact than they expected. As a result last year we had two weeks notice that there was going to be a lock closure because of a lack of water. That gave us time to do a ridiculous dash from the Kennet and Avon back into the Midlands area where we wanted to be. This year stocks in reservoirs that support the canals appear to be higher according to CRT’s own figures but suddenly flights of locks or entire canals have been closed with either no notice or only a matter of days warning, which is hugely problematic for people.

So, looking back a week, we returned from holiday to the mended boat, picked her up at Middlewich in Cheshire and determined we needed to leave rapidly if we were to get up the Trent and Mersey via what is known as Heartbreak Hill or the Cheshire flight which would take us to Staffordshire. Just as we were about to leave we were advised not to try that route but to take a detour going back the way we had come, heading along the Middlewich branch then down the Shropshire Union, turning near Wolverhampton onto the Staffordshire and Worcester, and then back up to meet the Trent and Mersey at Great Haywood. It was a jolly good thing we took that advice. Within hours of us setting off Heartbreak Hill was closed, and now as we move towards rejoining the Trent and Mersey via a long detour, we hear that the Middlewich branch (the route we had to use to get onto the Shropshire Union) is also closed.

Having fortunately found an alternative route, it isn’t all plain sailing. There are few routes that are open completely because of low water and other issues associated with drought such as falling trees which are causing major problems.

Teetering trees coming down would close this canal

There are other issues too – so far in 1 day alone we have reported a fallen tree, a wasp nest under a lock beam and a faulty lock to CRT.

We are on a significant detour because of the water situation and we accept that, and the cost it brings in time and fuel. We also accept some people say we should not be moving because in doing so and using locks we are making the situation worse. We know once we get to where we want to be we can stop for a time, volunteer for CRT to help their maintenance budget, and support family which is paramount. We are not the only ones moving by any means. It has been good to see so many holiday boaters out and about, as they bring essential income to canal-based businesses and CRT to maintain our network.

On our holiday we didn’t leave the canals behind mentally but anxiously watched CRT emails to understand where issues were arising (another boater described scanning CRT emails every few hours like watching for lottery news but less exciting) but now we are travelling these notifications are unbelievably stressful. Every time a CRT email pings onto my phone or watch my heart rate seems to escalate dramatically and we anxiously look to see what’s closed, whether it’s ahead of us and what it means for us now. We have chosen to cruise very long days, mainly because we are very anxious we may not get to our destination. Somehow it seems better to just get there rather than enjoy a prolonged stressful journey.

At the time of writing in 4 long days we have travelled 59 miles, worked 42 narrow locks, and still have another 55 miles and 32 locks (some narrow, some wide) to go. In this instance the journey is about getting to a destination. Canals have closed behind us, and while we are sorry for everyone trapped, we selfishly hope any future closures remain behind and not ahead of us. The low water situation is not making us nicer people!

Every day on this journey is tense, wondering what lies ahead. There are though daily highs when we get to the end of many miles and many locks and see how much nearer we are to our chosen destination.

This journey should lead us to be on a river where we hope there will be decent levels of water although we do know that further down the Leicester Line where we are headed, navigation is closed because of a lack of water. Hopefully there will be enough for us to stay afloat without being at a horrible angle or stuck on the bottom until water levels further down recover and we are able to move to Northamptonshire where we are due to come out of the water for regular maintenance work to the hull in October. The balance will be getting off the river before – wait for it – a flood, yes a flood- traps us there!

While we were away we took the opportunity to make some major decisions about how we intend to live in the future. Autumn, winter and spring are lovely seasons for cruising and really special times to be living on our boat. Winter can bring ice although it hasn’t for us for the last couple of years but being frozen in is not a major issue and we do enjoy wintertime in our floating home. In some areas there can be flooding and there are invariably muddy towpaths but we have boots.

It is possible to work round the annual winter maintenance closures of routes because they are published in advance and by understanding where they are, moving in early autumn to where we think we can keep going and then move through the winter when mooring restrictions change to give nearly everywhere 14 days stops should work.

Spring is equally a beautiful time to be living afloat, the problem now comes in summer. Summer for boating issues appears to be the season from mid June to mid September.

In the boating summer the boat can get very uncomfortably hot.

Low water levels can mean we end up stuck on a mooring at horrid angles with all the drawers open continuously and unable to move the boat until water levels improve.

Locks can be closed with little or no notice.

Trees weakened by drought fall potentially damaging boats but certainly stopping navigation.

Climate experts say this weather pattern is here to stay. It is not something that is going to stop but could exacerbate.

We are fortunate – we do have choices we can make. We have engineered work that means we can enjoy a travelling flexible lifestyle and we have our boat which we have invested in over the past 8 years.

There are two overarching options – we could leave the boat – or we could stay on the boat.

GO

If we leave – we need somewhere to go. This is after all our home and our office.
Moving to bricks and mortar means finding money ££££ and finding somewhere without flood risks, wildfire risks, and with nice neighbours.
We could look at buying ££££ the unicorn if we could find it- land with a mooring but that could result in a permanent low water mooring in summer, meaning we’re more often moored at horrible angles unable to move. Canals that are OK this year may not be next year and vice versa, so where to choose?
We could take ourselves to a Marina £££, which would mean no horrible water level issues if we’re on a Marina where they manage their levels. that would increase our costs. It would mean we would lose our freedom to move, and we would have to adjust to marina life which we have struggled to do for a week or two in the past when it was necessary.
We could buy ££££ a campervan and exchange a larger metal box which can’t go far, for a smaller metal box which can… but we honestly don’t think we could survive together for 3 months in a campervan and the same goes for a caravan and a tent ££ (even if that’s not metal).
We could take on a 3 month private or CRT mooring somewhere for the summer ££££. No guarantee on water levels and still hot, and potentially at risk from trees or if not then without shade.
We could leave the boat in the summer, pay for it to be kept safe in a marina ££££, and go somewhere else – house sit (we come with excellent references), hire a place ££££ for the summer or hire a boat ££££ somewhere with water like Scotland or Ireland, or maybe spend 3 months doing a series of different things and having different adventures, one of them being finding a house near the sea for a month for the family to visit when they can. Might work better with family commitments.
- STAY
We could just stay as we are and accept that in the summer we will get stuck and we shouldn’t go away or plan to be anywhere as we will need to be around to adjust our ropes to keep our home safe. We also have to accept that what we find may not work out. We know of many people who have had to leave their permanent moorings this year because of low water levels.
Given the risks from falling trees to stay safe, we will need to find moorings away from trees, and so unshaded, accepting that we will get HOT – VERY HOT.
We could just move onto a river every summer – most would increase our costs by demanding an Environment Agency licence, or private river company licence in addition to our CRT one. Rivers aren’t foolproof solutions. The issue this year in heading onto rivers in early summer was locks failing on rivers – we encountered two of these this year resulting in us having to change plans. River levels also drop and getting onto banks can be a challenge then, plus moorings aren’t as easy.
We could go to Scotland – get the boat craned out of the water and taken north by lorry ( ££££) as water levels appear OK north of the border. But will they remain that way and there are only around 135 connected navigable miles to travel for 3 whole months. And then we have to pay to return. Plus we would need a Scottish waterways licence ££££. Also this wouldn’t really work with family commitments.

Which one should we take?

Answers in the comments please!

We intend to cruise gently in England this winter after the hull is blacked and our Boat Safety Scheme certificate is completed. We may have to get stuck with stoppages but we want to be around the Midlands until March 2027 so that will give us plenty of time to think, and plan a BST (British Shallow Time) solution.

It is exciting and we are very fortunate to be able to explore new opportunities, new experiences, new places and maybe 3 months near a beach…somewhere.

Life-changing decisions.

What a week.

Broken boat. Clouds of black smoke. Repairs underway. Canals are being closed around us and a feeling of despair settling around.

Canal and River Trust say reservoir levels are higher than when they closed routes last year with two weeks’ warning, but this year locks have shut around us with no warning.

Are we being forced out of our floating lifestyle?

What should we do?

Can we expect to only move in the winter when we will be limited by annual winter closures?

If summers are getting hotter are we mad to stay in them in a metal box?

If we are unable to move in summer because of closures and winter because of repairs is moving spring and autumn enough for us to be happy staying on the boat?

If so what should we do in summer and winter?

No wonder we have needed to escape and reflect.

What should we do? What can we do? What would you do?

We are off the canal netwotk to let the desperate frustration subside and enjoy time with family. See you in two weeks – hopefully with some answers!

White gold

I am born in water. I live in water and I die when water touches me. What am I?

The answer to this old riddle has been adding flavour to our days and dishes, fascinating, exfoliating and also relaxing us these past weeks. It is the mineral once known as white gold and in Cheshire since Roman times, it has been vital in providing employment and incomes, which it still does today.

I’m talking of salt. Any town in Cheshire that was a salt producer is easily identified by the suffix -wich. We have found ourselves over the past weeks in Nantwich, Middlewich and Northwich. The salty brine was pumped by nodding donkeys from deep underground and dried in huge pans. These massive pans date back to the days of the Norse invaders who landed on the coast and dried sea brine in huge pans called wicks or wichs.

The salt industry continues to be a major industry in Britain today, and the salt deposits in Cheshire remain rich but for the first time in history, we could be about to import salt to our shores. INEOS Inovyn,which produces around 50% of our salt from their works in Cheshire say the government’s net zero policies could push them out of business. They have an extensive business using rock salt from a mine near Winsford and brine.

Approach Middlewich from the south along the Trent and Mersey Canal and you cruise alongside massive white mounds of salt at the British Salt site. It uses the Warmingham Brinefields and produces salt for cooking (Saxa), baking, and pharmaceuticals. British Salt is now part of the giant Tata Chemicals corporation.

Salt is used in so much more than food, but in chemicals, pharmaceuticals, dyeing and cleaning products.

A gentle canal cruise taking in part of the Shropshire Union Canal, the Middlewich Branch and part of the Trent and Mersey brings salt to life – not just its current production, but it’s fascinating history too. Salt was fundamental to the canals and the canals were fundamental to salt, as the means to transport it for this area to the sea port of Liverpool and inland ports of Manchester and Birmingham.

Canals are still essential, whatever their length

Today turning left after passing the British Salt mountains, takes you through the shortest canal on the network, the Wardle Canal. At just 154ft long and boasting a single lock, it was built in 1829 so the owners of the Trent and Mersey Canal could have control over the traffic using the junction with the Middlewich Branch of the Shropshire Union, and secure their toll monies.

After Wardle Lock boats have just 13 miles and 4 locks to take them to Nantwich Aqueduct, a short walk from one of the country’s few outdoor inland brine swimming pools. The Nantwich Brine Pool is one of the most famous in the country and it is glorious. Heated to 22 degrees (as a minimum) the pure saline water has no added chemicals and the 30 metre pool has been open to the public for 91 years!

Bathing or swimming in brine has been recognised for centuries as having therapeutic effects on the muscles, skin and joints. Brine is more buoyant than regular seawater because it is denser, and so a body swimming in brine is supported far more than one swimming in the sea. It is also an excellent exfoliant and for some reason my hair too felt much softer after swimming in the brine pool. It is a delightful experience, and one for which it is well worth making a trip to Nantwich.

Turning a boat there and heading back to Middlewich it is another short journey of just 8 miles and 4 locks to drop down the Trent and Mersey, passing past Crofton Flash (like so many flashes in the area created by brine extraction and subsequent subsidence), and eventually through the huge Tata Chemical Works straddling the canal at Lostock Graham near Northwich.

Seven pipe bridges and a footbridge cross the canal above the boats, before arriving at the Lion Salt Works alongside Marston Bridge. The canal was built in the 1760s to carry pottery from Stoke on Trent to Liverpool and to return carrying Cornish china clay brought to the North West on seagoing ships.

Salt became an additional cargo for the barges. As its name suggests, the Lion Salt Works produced salt from brine from 1894 when it opened until 1986. Now it’s buildings and machinery have been preserved as a museum for us all to learn about how salt was produced here.

Salt not only influenced the commercial viability of the waterways here, it literally shaped the industries, architecture and structures around. Pumping brine from underground springs, and mining rock salt from underground led to severe subsidence in many places. At one point in 1907 the Marston Hall mine collapsed and part of the Trent and Mersey canal breached as a result. Boats and barges were submerged by the collapsing banks. Repairing the damage and reopening the canal to navigation took – wait for it – TWO WEEKS.

In those days, labour was cheap, health and safety restrictions were non-existent, and the necessity to keep the waterway open was paramount. In contrast the breach on the privately Peel Group owned Bridgewater Canal which happened in January 2025 remains closed with an expected reopening at the end of this year. The Llangollen Canal managed by Canal and River Trust had a significant breach last December and work is ongoing there to reopen it but without a date for completion.

Salt subsidence shaped the buildings of Cheshire too. Many were built with timber frames by ingenious Victorians and many can still be seen around much of Cheshire. If subsidence was an issue wooden chocks could be added and the buildings shored up to remain usable, or they could even be moved easily to new, more stable locations.

Industries like dyeing, cleaning, and food preservation were using salt in huge quantities and so the huge salt beds formed around 250 million years ago in the Triassic Period directly resulted enhanced the prosperity of the area. Producers were creating different grades of salt to meet different needs, and this continues to this day in the area.

Maybe Cheshire and its people are “the salt of the earth.” The quotation from the Bible, Mathew 5:14 says “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?” Here it means a thoroughly good honest person,

Salt has become embedded in all our lives. We talk of it in our conversations , “Take it with a pinch of salt” (don’t believe it all), or a reminder of how painful the work in a salt mine or salt works could be “rub salt in the wound” (making things even worse). And we talk of saving as “salting something away” indicating how precious salt was seen to be, indeed Roman soldiers were often paid in salt becausae it was such a valuable commodity.

Clockwise:Pharmaceutical salt, table salt, preserving salt

So when you next sprinkle it on your food, think of Cheshire, better still, get on the canals and explore for yourself the salt routes barges would have taken, and when you can, treat yourself to a trip to the outdoor brine pool open through the summer until September at Nantwich Leisure Centre.

To the rescue…death averted

Sometimes one’s closest neighbours, even if you don’t know them personally, are in need of your help. Unexpected moments of crisis, or encounters when a helping hand is what is needed, provide a challenge for all of us – will we step up? Or do we consider ourselves too busy, too inexperienced, too anything that will mean we aren’t rushing to the rescue.

We have had two incidents this past few weeks. The first involved us literally… picking up ducks.

Mama duck had produced what looked like her second hatch of the breeding season. That raises questions as to what happened to the first offspring, but she came hustling up as we moored up beside the towpath, keen to show off her brood of seven, and probably more likely, to see what food we had on board.

The seven ducklings were tiny, very new, and little more than bundles of fluff being blown about on the canal. Their peeping cries as they hustled in her wake were piercing but she seemed to be marshalling them well. We handed out duck food and once she had eaten, she hurried her offspring over to the far side of the canal which was overgrown with brambles and nettles at the edge of an unmanaged patch of woodland. Shade and insects were both evidently appreciated by them all.

Some hours later in the early evening as temperatures dropped, we emerged from the boat, and set off to walk to a cool pub. Within a few steps all we could hear was the strident calling of the mother duck and faint answering peeps. She was in the water but with only 4 ducklings. She was swimming up and down alongside a concrete overflow weir, now empty from the level of the water, but somehow it seemed 3 of her youngsters were trapped inside. The duck was frantic, the ducklings too, but although they had somehow got in, it appeared getting out was a different matter.

Pub abandoned, or at least put on hold, we grabbed our older grandson’s one red and now faded pink seaside fishing net, and set off to the nearest bridge to see if we could rescue the missing youngsters. We slithered down the bank to the overgrown section but it soon became clear that the dog was a hindrance and we didn’t all need to be stung and scratched.

The Skipper and Boatdog made their way back to the far side to act as guides, indicating the mother duck’s location. Using the handle of the net to beat down the nettles and move brambles out of the way wherever possible, I regretted not changing out of shorts but made slow progress to the weir.

As I reached the nearest section I saw I the concrete sloping channel finished in a chute that led water underground down the steep bank to a stream at the bottom. From the noise it was apparent at least one duckling was somewhere down this chute. Looking among the matted weeds in the channel, I spotted and heard two tiny little brown and yellow balls. One was heading back up the channel, but before I could do anything with the net the second one fell into the mouth of the chute and vanished into the darkness.

Concentrating on the little one still heading up the channel, dodging round weeds, I managed to balance on concrete edge, following it as the Skipper marked the duck’s progress. It became apparent that a small gap at the end had been the entry point for the youngsters. I’d been wondering how they had got in, and now it was the exit for this little one to plop back into the canal and be reunited with a very vocal mum.

Hoping no others would head in, I set off to try and find the remaining two who had disappeared completely from sight, but whose anxious peeps were still in earshot if somewhat fainter. I could not see them down the foul smelling chute, but I could see it’s sheer edges which indicated they could well have tumbled all the way down to the stream and woodland some 15-20 feet below.

Going straight down beside the chute didn’t work – I sank into brambles up to me thighs. Scrambling out I moved, still clutching the net, back the way I had come in and then tried moving down through the woodland. Once down at the level of the chute exit I needed to beat a path to the small stream indicating where the ducklings might be.

As I approached treading very carefully in case a duckling was ambling about, brown and yellow being a perfect camouflage for dappled woodland full of detritus. Suddenly I saw a duckling scrambling up the bank alongside the chute exit and rapidly scooped it into the net. I then stood stock still trying to spot the second one. It seemed ages before I spotted it on the far side of the chute. It took a couple of tries before it joined its sibling in the bottom of the net and I turned to try and make my way back up to the canal.

Unfortunately one hand holding a net and a second hand having to ensure the ducklings didn’t jump out of the fairly shallow net meant I ended up shuffling up the bank backwards! Finally just as mother duck seemed to be losing interest in waiting for her ducklings, the net was in the water so they could swim out and rejoin the waiting family.

Rescue complete. The relief was immense, and the very delayed trip to the pub was even more welcome. And I took no photos of the drama at all!

Within a few days, the eagle-eyed Skipper spotted a hoglet (young hedgehog) on the edge of the towpath in an area where lots of dogs are walked, many off the lead. Not only were dogs an issue, if the youngster made it the short distance to the canal it would fall in and drown. So we collected gloves, followed the RSPCA guidance, and moved it to safety leaving mashed dog food and water in containers for it.

We then monitored it for some hours but it remained alone, no family appearing, it seemed to become weaker. Looking at it closely it was also suffering from two blood sucking ticks. A call to the RSPCA, preparation of a rescue container (cardboard box with holes punched in it and an old towel at the bottom) and hoglet was en route to a wildlife unit. It’s a good thing we have the car with us this week.

RSPCA staff stepped in the second we arrived and whisked the hoglet away to remove ticks, and give it vital liquids. They then gave us a replacement box, because they thought it possible there would be other hoglets needing rescuing. We in turn gave the charity a donation for its essential work.

We didn’t find any more hoglets before we moved on, but the rescue kit remains at the ready with gloves, towel, box and low containers for water and food, and the child’s fishing net is back on the roof.

On reflection there have been all sorts of other things that have happened in past days, but these are the ones that stayed in our minds. They were stressful, uplifting and hugely rewarding. Positive actions have power to overwhelm everything else.

Surviving a heatwave in a metal box

Narrowboats like ours are basically a metal box. Living and working in a metal box has its challenges, but probably one of the biggest is surviving during extreme heat.

It is hot but at one point humidity rose to over 70%

When travelling on a boat there is a natural flow of air created by the movement, but when you are sitting still, or moored up overnight, it is a very different story. Canal and River Trust have issued advice for people about staying safe and conserving water by careful, considered use of locks particularly. For us though, we don’t want or need to move this week, so we are staying put. If we were moving we would be doing so in the evenings or very early mornings. Leapfrogging the car with us means we can drive waste to disposal stations, reducing rubbish sitting in the heat and also meaning we don’t have to move our home and office to the services. Having the car has also given us issues though – it’s air conditioning which used to give a brief welcome break from the stifling heat decided to give up this week just as we took a 5-hour trip in excruciating heat to see family! It’s been a long time since we travelled with the windows open, prayed for no stoppages and sought streams en route via Google maps for Boatdog to get into to cool down.

In terms of drinking water for us in our home, we should be OK for water for the next couple of weeks having filled up a week ago.

So for us, in terms of life and work, the heatwave has been stationary. We sought out a shady mooring – one we knew of with mature trees on both sides of the canal. We were delighted when we found it was empty and promptly took up residence. We are glad we don’t have to move and won’t until temperatures reduce.

On board we have managed to keep temperatures to the 30s, so about the same as the outside climate. That has partly been achieved over the years by prior planning like investing in retro fitting insulation in the shell of the boat, and replacing the single glazed windows with their small hopper openings with double glazed thermal break windows where the glazed panes can be completely lifted out maximising the amount of air in the boat. The roof is also painted grey to reflect some of the heat away although my roof garden has messed that theory up somewhat. The planters are all raised up so air can pass under the pots and across the roof. This reduces the risk of the plants being cooked from underneath as well as above, but also means the roof can in part remain cool.

As we are moored under some huge sycamore trees the plant pots amd boatnin general are bejng liberally mulched with sycamore helicopters. I’m happy to leave them to stop the pots losing as much moisture as possible but the Skipper is out daily clearing them from the solar panels . We need the shade to stay cool but getting some solar means we can run the fans, and devices we need for work on board without draining the battery.

Inside the windows are out (and window frames piled on the bed sandwiched between pillows and cushions), blackout blinds are drawn on the side where the sun is shining and we monitor this during the day. The side hatch (swan or duck hatch to many) is open 24/7 (fortunately we are moored with it facing the waterside), and doors are open fore and aft. The cratch cover, the heavy protective waterproof canvas covering the bow area, is folded back to maximise any breeze. A double portable car fan (thanks Jonny) positioned on the stove and working from an installed car lighter point helps move air around the boat during the day but is too noisy to run at night.

The main work area is in the middle of the boat and gets the breeze well so that helps and although I felt like I dripped through a Teams meeting yesterday I don’t think anyone noticed and I did seem cooler than others on the call!

The dog is a bit of a sunbather but has cool mats to lie on, a constantly replenished water bowl and walks only early morning in the woods and late in the evening when she usually gets (takes herself off for) a paddle or swim. Trying to stop her lying in the sun is a problem but she enjoys the sociability of the windows being out, engaging with two and four passers by on the towpath. Fortunately she isn’t a barker or that would drive everyone mad as well as making work difficult. She has regular rubs during the day with a wet tea towel to get her fur damp and when she begins overheating she does have the sense to take herself to her favourite spot – under the sofa which is away from the direct heat and where the wooden flooring is directly above the bilge that sits in the water so it stays cool. We managed to get the car air conditioning recharged so if we do go out to empty waste or get some shopping the dog is delighted to come too.

For the humans aboard we are reducing our heat generation through not cooking apart from boiling a kettle for morning coffee and saving the remaining water in a thermos for washing up or hot drinks if we should want them later in the day. Meals are salads and cold meats, tabbouleh and cheeses. Drinks are constantly to hand – water or squash with frozen berries from the freezer as delicious ice cubes. Clothes are cottons and minimal.

At night we put the towpath windows in and close the towpath side of the cratch, before giving the plants on the roof a drink from washing water collected during the day, and some drawn the canal. I don’t know if they will survive, but I keep working with them and hoping. The essential herbs are coping and the flowers give a welcome blast of colour.

I made the decision this year not to grow vegetables as I have previously and I’m glad. They (and I) struggled so much with the heat of last year and watering morning and night was a constant chore, one I felt guilty doing when locks were being closed through lack of water. Every watering can full makes a difference after all, and we didn’t get a decent crop either!

As night finally falls, it is time to shiver for the first and only time of the day in a cold shower before heading deliciously damp to bed with just a cotton sheet for a cover. We need to do more than dream about what we should do for the future though. These heatwaves are likely to become more frequent so we need to consider different fans, possibly some dehumidifier on board and the low to run them. We may need to think about cruising less in the summer and more in the other three seasons. Major climate change calls for major changes. We are likely to see more extremes. We haven’t seen real cold for several winters now but flooding is a winter issue. It has implications that are even more serious for bricks and mortar homes and offices where you can’t just lengthen your ropes or move location.

Diversity takes many forms in our life

June has been as mixed with weather, soundscapes, landscapes and emotion as ma month could be, and we are only a couple of weeks in.

We started the month on a high, having travelled from a mooring on the outskirts of a market town in the West midlands in baking sunshine to meet our newly born granddaughter for the first time. The towpath there was paved and full of walkers, runners, fishermen and other boaters. It was busy.
From there we made our way along the wooded Stourbridge Town Arm past houses and former industrial glassworks onto the Stourbridge canal, cruising past rolling green fields of grazing horses. Before long we turned onto the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal, moving through acres of deciduous woodland fringed with pale pink rhododendrons reflected in the water. T- shirts, hats and sun cream were vital to keep comfortable.

The locks are edged with red sandstone, and at Bratch the buildings around are built with the same local stone. Bratch Locks are a unique experiment created by the engineer James Brindley. He opened the three locks as a staircase originally in 1772. Their commercial past required them to have 2 bridges, a toll house and a keepers cottage. Now they are not a staircase, but three separate interlinked narrow locks, and because of the complexity of their water supply, they are only available for use when being manned by Canal and River Trust lock keepers.

In a staircase as Bevan later built at Foxton, and Longbotham at Bingley the locks share gates but at Bratch each lock has its own top and bottom gates and the locks are fed by water from hidden side pounds. Bratch like all the canals we’ve been on recently are narrow locks, designed to save water with a single top gate and mitred double lower gates.

Once through Bratch, which can be a bit of a bottleneck, we headed up through the Staffs and Worcestershire Canal the final stretch through bridge after bridge after bridge to the turning left onto the Shropshire Union Canal at Autherley as fine drizzle began. Through the stop lock (a shallow lock stopping traffic to pay duties to waterway owners as boats moved from one body of water to another).

The stop lock beam has been repaired with a short laminated replacement. I have no idea if it is a permanent or temporary repair but it means that when it’s wet there’s no way to get purchase on the slippery bricks around the lock.

Up then through high sided cuttings covered with trees and evidencing signs of land slips, through tall elegant bridges carrying roads and tracks high above us.

A lock that had been faulty threatened to put our journey on hold but it was mended as we arrived thanks to CRT and we headed through to moor up in driving rain below it under dripping trees on the edge of a busy village.

The next night our mooring couldn’t have been more different. Gone were the wooded cuttings and steep sided banks, the sandstone passages hewn for boats through mellow red rock. Suddenly we were up on Shropshire Plain with a view, when the rain cleared, to The Wrekin and the Welsh Hills beyond. We shared the night with rabbits and badgers, and a sunset that reminded us of the calming qualities of the canals.

The next day we passed again through slender neck-craning bridges, through thickly wooded cuttings and down locks carved from sandstone glistening dark red in the rain we began our descent onto the Cheshire Plain,

We moved from T-shirts and shorts to full waterproofs, to jumpers and jeans. The weather has baked the roof garden, whipped the flowers with bitter winds and drenched them with rain that has been torrential and gentle, drizzle and seemingly never ending.

I blacked the stove thinking I wouldn’t want to light it again for months but the need to dry sopping clothes and warm shivering bodies meant we have lit it this week.

With the boat so far these past two weeks we have travelled 54 miles and through 51 locks (some with the wonderful help of friends and CRT lock keepers), through a single 81 yard tunnel and through weather which has been as diverse as the canals and landscapes we have enjoyed. It feels like we have floated through many worlds in that time.

The Shroppie runs from Autherley Junction 66 miles to Ellesmere Port in Cheshire where commercial traffic headed onto the Manchester Ship Canal. Before then there are junctions with the Llangollen and the Trent and Mersey.

This canal winds its way through a rural landscape. Cows, sheep, small market towns and clustered villages, farmland predominately laid to pasture with some swathes of arable, house martins swooping low over the water around us to catch insects and bushy hedges full of sparrows, blue tits and blackbirds. Ducks, herons, swans and moorhens join us on the canal. The coots seem to save themselves for city waters.

We’ve also managed trains and buses and Shanks’ pony trip outings to regain our car after a very satisfying time without it, and now we will leapfrog it with us for a while. Heading back each day on foot or by bike or bus to fetch it. That way we can respond rapidly if we are needed or wanted by family of all ages, giving us the best of options and peace of mind.

Accepting change and changing direction

It has been a week of decision making, or rather accepting decisions made for us by circumstances without railing against them.

After a wonderful weekend of seeing family, meeting our newest teeny family member and staying in what we are convinced was a real-life Fawlty Towers hotel, we returned by Shanks’ Pony, buses and trains to the boat ready to set off for the Rivers Severn and Avon.

As Robbie Burns said, the best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, (or boaters and boatdogs) often go awry, and lock issues did just that for us. From the Stourbridge Town Arm we turned onto the Stourbridge Canal passing an area where the week before pounds had been drained and a boat capsized, but when we passed all seemed well. We turned right then onto the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal instead of our planned left turn, avoiding a lock issue going onto the Severn and another on the Avon.

It’s a good few years since we travelled the Staffs and Worcs and we had forgotten how delightful it is. Pink and red rhododendrons in varying hues line sections of the canal carved into sandstone. We stopped off to visit the National Trust property of Wightwick Manor and experienced it in a thunderstorm! We were delighted to be rescued by a car-driving friend who we were due to meet for dinner, but made it back to the Manor the next day to walk their Mathematical Bridge and have a free coffee as we were visiting from a boat.

From the Staffs and Worcs we turned left at last, heading onto the Shropshire Union, fondly known as the Shroppie. It wends its rural way through an array of famous Thomas Telford bridges including High Bridge with its telegraph pole mid arch, through wooded cuttings and a single tunnel at Cowley hewn through the multi-patterned red sandstone. Its locks, accompanied by-washes that often catch out the unwary boater. A notification of a lock issue turned out to have been fixed by Canal and River Trust staff by the time we got to it – what service!

The Shroppie is popular for leisure moorings on farms and this means boats travel very slowly (or should). We can take our time in many places passing moored boats on tick over to enjoy views over rolling farmland of waving grain or grassy acres dotted with cattle, in places looking out towards The Wrekin and the Welsh hills. This feeling of space, of distance is uplifting after quite a time in more urban constrained vistas but also coming as it does between steeply sloping wooded cuttings of this waterway. We have in rain, in sun and in blustery winds that buffet us but often at this time of year bring us gusts of sweet, light, scents of honeysuckle and elderflower.

Moorings are rural, comfortingly dark at night, shared with rabbits and badgers. Herons led us along their beats and jays darted from steeply wooded slopes above us, until we made our way to one of the most well known and longest flight of locks on the canal. The Audlem Flight of 15 designed by Thomas Telford takes boats 93feet from the Shropshire Plain to the Cheshire Plain or vice versa. At the top of the flight by the top lock is a famed honesty shop of the local farm with ice cream, pasties, pies, cream teas and cakes. It is without doubt a highlight of the Shroppie for us, other boaters, dog walkers and villagers.

Turning the opposite way to that we originally planned has turned out to be a pleasure, a chance to meet up with old friends in planned and unplanned reunions. Things look better for months to come because we are heading in this direction. Plans, after all are made to be changed. We reduce stress by embracing change, and agree with Heraclitus that “The only constant in life is change.”

A million dollar question and a priceless prize

We are no strangers to 24hr challenges – our boat is named after the village where we lived in France that lies some 70km from Le Mans, site of the prestigious 24hr endurance races. I used to be involved in the car 24hr there, the Skipper and I actually met at the 24hr motorbike race there, our children were both both at the maternity hospital in Le Mans city and I drove (if that’s the word for it) in a 24hr kart race there.

But a 24hr narrowboat challenge is our latest achievement and probably one of the slowest we have ever done at a maximum of 4mph and regular pauses for delving into the depths via the weed hatch to clear the propellor of things fouling it.

A major issue with a 24hr car, motorbike or kart race is monotony. The scenery stays the same and concentration is vital although not easy. As we discovered this weekend the changing scenery, variety and dramatic differences in the Birmingham Canal Navigations is exceptional.

We travelled from faded and jaded industrial landscapes, past vast modern warehousing, alongside congested motorways where we were travelling faster than four wheels, under huge concrete spans of bridges and under old low brick ones, out among rural fields edged with dog rose pink tinged hedges and cattle grazing, alongside sandy pine woods peppered with bright yellow gorse, through weed strewn waters hiding dangers of shopping trollies and plastic bags, and into large clear expanses with water lillies, bright turquoise damselflies and rapidly darting fish clearly visible. The BCN has everything and variety is without doubt one of its many highlights, as is the variety of boats competing.

For the 24hr marathon each crew is responsible for choosing their own start point, aiming to finish at the same point and deciding whether they intend to score points for mileage, locks, correctly answering questions, taking required photos on the way round, collecting litter en route, decorating their boat and themselves, or whatever combination of all of these they choose. The winners are those with the highest number of points in a complex scoring system that is altered by the number of of crew, size of boat or boats (some historic motors tow a butty for fun), and various other factors.

The night before changed everything for us when a previously closed lock flight opened. We altered our plans because it was somewhere we hadn’t been before, and exploration and discovery were two of our aims for the challenge. We decided the bulk of the locks we were to tackle would be in the first 12 hours with the second predominately for mileage with only the final necessary lock flights to reach the finish. In the main we stuck to that, despite the unexpected temperatures which rose in Birmingham to 34 degrees, leaving us sweating and slathered with sun cream. Wet tea towels became essential fashion accessories for 2 and 4 legged crew.

We set off early (we thought) on Saturday from a Bumble Hole (I kid you not. Its signs are indeed regular targets for amendment) to get us through the Netherton Tunnel and Arm, and along the New Main Line two junctions to be at our designated start point of Pudding Green Junction for 8am.

After going up the 8 locks at Ryders Green a few weeks ago and finding two low pounds, a plethora of shopping trolleys and a lot of rubbish we decided it would be shrewd to tackle them first, and descend (so coming down into any leaking water). With the boat in the top lock we took the chance to secure the final upcycled tasselled decorations to the boat, and were caught up in the process by historic boat Starling celebrating her 90th birthday this year.

Oh yes – boats get birthday cakes too! 😋

Starling had a BCN experienced, well versed, slick, numerous crew who were a LOT younger than us. They decided their strategy demanded helping us down out of their way and they did just that with generosity of windlass wielding and encouragement. Normally we make headway of 3-4 locks at miles an hour when it’s just the two of us. With Starling behind us and some of their crew taking responsibility for getting us out of their way, we came down the entire Ryders Green flight at a pace of 11 lock miles an hour!

Needing after that to lie down in a darkened boat with a stiff drink and grateful for their Herculean efforts, we were keen to let them pass us but they were heading to Walsall and we had decided to turn right at Tame Valley Junction to explore a section we had not travelled before.

It took us alongside a crawling M5 and M6, on aqueducts and down the weed hatch for the first time that morning. Rushall’s flight of 9 locks had been closed for a while and they put up a flight to keep that tranquility. Low pounds, stiff paddles and 2 goslings stuck in lock 7 where I spent 20 minutes trying to get them out before resorting to our grandson Tommy’s fishing net to reunite them safely with their parents all meant we made slow progress as we headed up the eastern side of the BCN. We were passed by a crew of happy nifty Norbots on another contesting boat, and at the end found ourselves ahead of the CRT entry Sister Dora whose crew were armed with rakes and nets collecting massive amounts of rubbish in a giant floating hopper which did give them a pretty big advantage in the litter-amassing stakes!

CRT staff were also in attendance trying to let water down to balance the lock flight for use but it was a long slow job for them. We were glad to be the first of the day through and heard later contestants had multiple issues on this flight that delayed them significantly.

We met some lovely people who gave us a hand – a lady in her 30s who grew up on a narrowboat as one of a family of 5, a couple who walk the canal every morning to get fit and feed the birds, and a man with his young children who had found a newt in their garden and had brought it to the canal after looking online to discover where would be a better environment for it as they had no pond at home.

Goslings reunited with Mum and Dad, varied scenery, artwork and a hot dog

Once out of the locks the remainder of the Daw End branch was low water and slow travel. We limped along in the increasing heat and finally got to deeper water, and a change of scenery which took us to the glorious expanse of water that is Anglesey Basin. We turned there and began to head back down passing a few other contestants en route, and at a point the dog and I prepared to jump off for a walk but were forced back on board by a build up of silt and rubbish that stopped the boat pulling in. We finally got off when yet another trip down the weed hatch was required to remove a dog lead, multiple plastic bags and a lot of weed that were clogging the prop. By this point we had also found the answers to two required questions – 93 and no swimming.

All back on board and flagging by now in the low late afternoon sun, we chugged along the Curly Wurly as the Wyrley and Essington Canal is known. It is apparently just over 16 miles long. We believe from our experience it is probably nearer 3,000. We had travelled for nearly 10 hours in heat and were feeling it.

As we were edging our way along the wiggles and weed, avoiding the odd shopping trolley and hearing our hull rumbling over lots of debris we came to the village of Pelsall, and houses with gardens alongside the cut, and people enjoying the evening sunshine with a few beers. They waved, we waved and then suddenly one man shouted “I know you!” pointing at me. Astonished I glanced at their boat we were passing and realised we had all met in Leicester during the winter flooding. Not the easiest time for them to have bought their first boat but they had managed to get it back eventually to their home mooring. That cheered us, but as we moved over to enable another of the competitors coming the other way we got stuck. The prop was wedged in the silt but judicious hanging out over the water side to try and free the boat eventually worked and we limped on, tiredness setting in. Finally the boat made the decision for us and ground to a halt near a canalside pub where lots of children wanted to hear if we really lived aboard, to say hello to Boatdog, to ask what we do if we want to go the toilet and where a dad who obviously worked out was only too happy to put his muscles to good use on the end of our mooring ropes. Once moored with a gangplank because we couldn’t get into the side for silt, we headed into the pub to fill in our travel log over a cool pint and send it in to the challenge organisers before a simple supper and an early night.

The alarm sounded at 4am on Sunday and our usual routine was finished in time for us to be underway by 4.30am. It normally consists of me walking the dog while the Skipper does the engine checks but he had the addition of fishing part of a tangled tent complete with metal poles out of the weed hatch. Once underway we can vouch bacon butties really do taste better at daybreak.

The interminable Curly Wurly wends through fields and farmland, reclaimed mining areas and suburban housing where after 10am we began finding dog walkers and gardeners waving and commenting favourably on the tassels all the way along the boat which were remarkably still holding up.

We met Dora fishing out chairs and directed them to more plus a yoga ball, so doing our good deed for the day. Unfortunately we passed another competitor nb Dotterell who was stranded and waiting for help. As his boat passed over two sunken shopping trolleys thrown into the water under a bridge one of them caught the rudder so hard it knocked it out of the cup it sits in (a bit like a bone in a socket).

They said they were waiting for rescue help so we carried on cautiously and they gave us a cheery wave as we did. The invaluable competition WhatsApp group told us later that their skipper decided to try one more time after we passed them to restore his rudder and astonishingly managed it.

That was the last fellow competitor we saw until we turned once more onto the Dudley No. 2 canal. At that point we were worrying. We were getting close to the finish time of 2pm by now. The Curly Wurly and another trip down the weed hatch had taken its toll on our slender margin of time. The chances of making the finish which involved working the final flight up 6 locks was looking less likely. Still we kept going, narrowly avoiding a hire boat which suddenly reversed out of a junction in front of us, avoiding another competitor seized by debris and stopped in mid channel to fish down their weed hatch, and listening to two young men under a bridge who navigated us past yet another trolley in the water. I did wonder how many trolleys remain at supermarkets in the Black Country and Birmingham! A CRT rubbish boat removed 42 from the cut the previous week too!

As the finish drew in sight after we had travelled 17 and 2 part sections of the BCN’s 21 waterways, it was looking unbelievably tight on time – we were both surprised at how tense the finish was. Then both our phones sounded – with the amazing news our first granddaughter had been safely born a little earlier than expected. The finish and the challenge faded into insignificance in sheer joy and relief at hearing all was well with h her and her mum.

Turning the corner to the final flight we hastily went into reverse as we joined a queue and groups of people at the bottom of the flight. Heritage boat Scorpio had been unable to get into the bottom lock as the gate was sticking part way open so backed out and let nb Caroline, the next in line go ahead to see if they could move the gate. After a lot of hard hot work Caroline and her crew began heading up the flight but still the gate wouldn’t open far enough for Scorpio and butty Leo to edge through. As next in line we were waved through and eventually they were able to come through behind us. When we made it to the top weary but elated at our exciting family news, we discovered we had been registered as finishing on time as we had been reported as being on the final furlong by 2pm.

We didn’t disgrace ourselves coming 11th out of 2. We enjoyed the experience and have a unique new plaque in situ to remind us always of a unique challenge. We learned speed and large crews on board aren’t everything. It was a challenge of both stamina and strategy and we really did enjoy it.

Would we do it again? We really need to up our game in terms of what we wear judging by what we saw this year!

Little Poppy will ensure we will never forget what we were doing when she arrived in the world.

Competition & crisis has us crossing everything

The narrowboat marathon has arrived.

Over 30 hours of the Bank Holiday weekend 27 boats have signed up to move for a whole 24 of those hours taking in as much of the Birmingham Canal Navigation System (BCNS) as possible.

Annotations ours. One of nb Milimalist’s brilliant metro style maps

Points are awarded for mileage, locks, travelling to far flung reaches and rarely visited parts, for correctly answered quiz questions (about the network and its history), for photographic evidence, for decorations and the amount of rubbish collected…and probably for other aspects I haven’t managed to get my head around. Detailed cruise logs need to be maintained and to be honest it seems a mathematical contest as much as anything else at the moment!

We can start from wherever we choose on the network but everyone is supposed to reach the same finish line at Titford Engine House by 2pm on Sunday – mid heatwave it seems. We have shorts, suncream and Boatdog’s coolmat deployed already.

It’s a while since either of us did a marathon, and we have never competed in a narrowboat marathon with a maximum speed of a walking pace! We have looked at tactics – is our approach to be one of maximising locks (there are 79 if you only did them once), looking at travelling all canals or loops (physically not possible in the time as there are 28 in total and over 100 miles), or considering taking in every one of the 9 tunnels (not possible for us as we can’t fit under the gauge for Dudley Tunnel where you either have to be towed through or do it the old fashioned way).

Great illustration of legging it – not far from the Dudley Tunnel

The old fashioned way is legging it. Legging is where two crew, one on either side, lie with their backs on a plank on the boat with their feet on the tunnel wall and push the boat through. Good for the leg muscles but slow and painful. In the past many leggers drowned when they fell off the plank through exhaustion or when they lost their balance when their feet slipped off a wet wall, so it’s a good thing that’s not an option we have to consider although it would be exciting to try it once, on a very, very short tunnel.

The Challenge has been running since 1968 according to a banner we saw yesterday, but for us this is a first. We are already being passed by some competitors getting themselves into their starting positions, and all are staying tight-lipped about where they are going from. We only have a few hours to go until the 8am start and we still haven’t decided where we are starting from. We thought we had a route and then realised some of the locks on that route are unusable because of maintenance issues. We amended that proposed route, only to find route 2 would put us cruising in the dark through areas with lots of moored boats so we scrapped that idea as far too antisocial. At the moment we think we might have a route 3 but we can’t work out if it is going to be too long or too problematic to complete in the time so we need some shortcuts (and they are few and far between!).

Slightly alarmed to find the rules include a long list of local hospitals!

Our plan then is non-existent but we do have an aim – to get to the finish on Sunday. A modest aim but one that with the predicted heatwave and vagaries of required trips down the weedhatch could still prove a significant challenge for us. The finish is at the top of 6 locks which lead to a dead end. Those locks could become a competition-ending bottleneck if all 27 competitors are trying to get through them in time for a 2pm finish. Maybe we should consider just going straight there and that way making sure we are in time for the finale?

To be honest our biggest concern is no longer the marathon but something far far more important and prosaic – namely our loo. A damaged cassette caused disruption to the entire system when it was removed for emptying and this rendered us loo-less for a while yesterday morning. Given that Canal and River Trust have now locked all their toilets on the entire network, that was nothing short of a crisis.

The Skipper (who had only just returned from parenting duty) leapt into action and with the help of a YouTube video, and some uncomfortable contortions of working with a screwdriver in a confined space, we currently have a working toilet once more. However the number of cassettes available to us has reduced by one now, so the length of time we can go without finding an emptying point has also become shorter. This now means our Marathon planning now needs to take yet something else into account – find an Elsan point en route.

So we will be keeping our fingers crossed this weekend, and if the loo fails again we shall be crossing far more than just our fingers!

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