It’s been a dramatic week. From wet and muddy to a pollution incident. emergency evacuation, danger to life levels, and ice.
Monday began with grandson’s school being closed on the first day back from the Christmas holidays because not enough staff could get in through flooded or snowy roads. This is a benefit of being close – we can help if needed. We had an unexpected and delightful day with him, which included splashing in our wellies back to the boat along a breached, flooded towpath. He (like us) wasn’t impressed to see sewage spewing from a manhole cover pushed up and out by flood waters. The sewage was flowing across the towpath into the river. We duly reported it to Canal and River Trust, Seven Trent and the Environment Agency, appreciating they were experiencing multiple calls across the region.
Then we splashed our way back from the boat (levels still not over age 7 wellies st this point) and took him in the car to an early evening football skills session on an all-weather pitch the other side of Leicester. It was a slow journey as many roads were shut with flooding. The plan was for a family supper together before we returned to the boat. It didn’t go according to plan.
As the footballers returned, the Skipper announced we had to go “NOW”. He’d been monitoring water levels via the Environment Agency website during the training session, and they were rising alarmingly. Supper boxed up for us, we grabbed Boatdog from her comfortable snooze on their sofa and dashed out to the car. The first road back towards the boat was closed, the second too. Sat nav was struggling to show where was open and where was shut, as the situation was changing so fast, so it was trial and error. Stress levels were rising as fast as the waters.
We headed into the village of Quorn. The mini roundabout in the heart of the village was underwater, but we got through slowly with care. We made our way back towards Barrow, but blue lights illuminated the main road into the village, leading over the bridge that spans the River Soar. Flooding across the road had shut the route, with a fire appliance and pumps in attendance.
Back onto the A6 and on to Loughborough. Water levels were high and there was lying water but some roads were still open. Everywhere was busy as all traffic was being channelled the same way. As we came into Barrow the back way it was to find road closed signs and blue lights again where we wanted to be. We squeezed through and made our way to the Soar Bridge Inn car park. En route I’d had messages from a friend who runs the pub asking if we were OK or if we needed anything. We called in to explain we were going to try and get home, and she very kindly let us leave our car in their car park.
What can be a 1.3 mile walk between our grandson’s home and our winter mooring or a 3.2mile drive, turned into almost 11 stressful miles. Even when we were finally back in Barrow, it felt like we were still a long way from home.
We set off on foot, but within just a few yards, met a fire service cordon by the archway entrance to Proctor’s Park over the bridge just by Deep Lock.
Proctor’s was originally a post-war pleasure park that attracted day trippers on special trains from Leicester, Loughborough, and Nottingham to enjoy the attractions of boating, train rides, side shows and sand pits. It was opened on 12.5 acres in 1948 by Jack Proctor, who owned fairground rides and undertook event catering. Since then, people’s holiday aspirations and the park, like life, have changed. It is now a caravan park for static or touring vans, mobile homes, converted vans and also provides both residential and leisure mooring for boats.
Being bounded by the river, Proctor’s Park was the focus of attention for the emergency services. When we arrived just before 8pm, they were advising evacuation, but not insisting. They had already helped one couple and a dog to leave a boat moored at the park, but their said if we could get to our boat and we’re happy to stay on it, then we should.
We set off. Behind Deep Lock levels were high. I had opened the paddles earlier in the day to let water flow down and avoid flooding higher up. We are moored spme 10ft above the main river at this point. Within a few feet of the lock, our head torches were showing water flowing over the towpath from the Barrow Cut (the canalised section of the river). All we could hear was water running, pouring across the towpath, disappearing into the dark below, and the level of the caravan park. The dog had to be carried from here all the way to the boat – her legs being too short to make it through without swimming. When we got to the boat, the mooring pins were totally submerged but astonishingly still holding the mooring ropes and the boat secure to the bank. The pallet with the boot scraper on that we keep as a step at the stern was just peeking above the water.
We made it on board, loosened the ropes to prevent the boat being pulled over by the rising waters, which could result in her taking on water and sinking and lit the stove. We could hear water running constantly across the towpath into the fields behind the hedge beside us.
We gratefully ate our packed meal and wondered how others lower down the river we’re doing. Levels continued to rise, and at 22.18, we were startled by a shrill siren sound from my phone. It was the emergency evacuation message for the area. The Methodist Church had been set up as emergency accommodation. The Soar Bridge Inn also set up a very necessary free hot drinks station for evacuees, those determined to stay in their homes, and the emergency services. The Skipper’s phone siren sounded soon afterwards, and family in the next village also had the warning. We carried on reassuring anxious friends and family that we were fine, kept the stove well stocked, checked the ropes again, and settled down for a long night. Surprisingly, I slept well, although the Skipper was constantly on alert. Levels according to the Environment Agency monitoring down river at Pillings Lock peaked at 3am at 2m52. The highest point of normal levels is 1m14. Even at this the boat was not close to being floated onto the towpath – another potential hazard.
The next morning we stood on the back of the boat looking out at a muddy sea – fields and towpath as far as the eye could see was just water, and it was still overflowing from the Barrow Cut across the towpath into the fields. Wellies on, we waded off, carrying the dog, to see what help we could offer anywhere.
The first thing we encountered were journalists, photographers and film crews all clustered by the entrance to Proctors Park by Deep Lock. Residents from Proctors were taking it in turns to repel sightseers but said few people had chosen to evacuate, although a man was taken from his home by the fire service using a raft during the morning. There was nothing we could do to help, community spirit was evident with everyone helping everyone else.
The park alongside the lock moorings was almost completely underwater, as was the well-used pathway across the far side of the river to Quorn. What has become a familiar landscape was alien. A few car roofs could be seen just poking above the water in the park. There were boats on the far side of Proctor’s Park isolated on their moorings with the rivers treating fast on both sides of their hulls. Local people watched in a minute of fascination and horror as the water thundered through the bridge arches below them. The Moorings pub car park was being crossed by canoe as we approached and the pods at the edge of the parking were clearly awash.
There was little we could do to help so slowly we made our way back to check our ropes, loosen them, and sit tight, glad to have a home that floats. All day news helicopters and drones were buzzing around, but the waters began to subside.
Within 24 hours it was a very different story for us and everyone affected. By Wednesday morning media interest had moved with the flow of waters downstream, to Loughborough and then to the areas around the River Trent and Nottingham. The Soar river level had dropped enough to allow us to walk across flooded fields and pathways to Quorn. Low overnight temperatures had turned shallow areas of flooding into danger zones for cars and pedestrians but the water levels kept slowly dropping enabling a clear up of sorts to continue. The noise of the river thundering under Barrow Bridge was terrifying. It seemed astonishing that this was a bridge under which we have cruised our narrowboat many times. Now the weight of water means there is little space under the historic arches.
An overnight freeze on Wednesday night led to strange ice formations in the woods, making Thursday morning’s dog walk (a walk not a carry) strangely beautiful. Water still lies at Proctor’s among the caravans, and some boats will remain cut off on the far side where the river sweeps round to rejoin water coming from the Barrow Cut until levels drop much more. There’s a fresh smell in the air round us despite the amount of debris and lying water, perhaps the weather has frozen decay.
It is astonishing how quickly the levels rose, but also how quickly they’ve begun to subside. We had two days booked of volunteering with Canal and River Trust this week but both days had to be cancelled – we’ll try again next week when there will be even more need for clearing and cleaning up around the locks particularly to make them safe for use once more. At the moment navigation is still on red, but there are 10 clear days without snow or rain forecast so everything should have a chance to dry out. Once the boat goes down enough I’ll be able to do the washing – can’t really do it when the water would spew out onto the towpath from our current height!
So it’s been a very different week. Excitement. Drama. And now calm again. We knew the Soar floods when we booked our winter mooring and it’s a small price to pay for some months near the family.
There’s been the opportunity for a bit of work too which is good, but the overriding feeling this week has to be gratitude.
Gratitude for a home that floats, for mooring pins that have done their job and held us safe, for the emergency services, for a well fuelled stove, for friends and family who care, for ths chance to get off again to empty the loo and waste bin, for new wellies without holes and blue skies again! We are very fortunate and grateful we’ve made the decisions we have.
Pickingupducks 