Pickingupducks

Giving up

Scouring the news for glimmers of positivity seems an exhausting process – but we all need these to give us hope, not just about the current situation, but for our own wellbeing.

Looking around us and making our contribution to improving the world around us can be one way to help us get through bleak times. It’s a way that works for me, and has always worked, whether the tough times fall at home, at work, or in the wider world. I’ve been doing what I can – fishing out rubbish as we travel, baking so we have fresh tasty bread (pummelling dough as way to vent my fury at politicians), distracting myself with work, and learning about the world on my ever-changing doorstep. All activities guaranteed to generate positivity. What do you do?

This week the world around us has offered us a tantalising glimpse of Spring with sunshine that warms, plus a series of miserable downpours but we’ve moved on, finally tackling the last wide locks we shall face for months.

Wide locks are great if you have others to share them with – we were lucky to have a family on holiday to share the huge Chester Northgate triple Staircase locks (32ft), and subsequent Hoole Lane (8ft 3) Chemistry (8ft 9), Tarvin (8ft 4), Greenfield (9ft) and Christleton (9ft) locks with us. It makes the mechanics easier. Two boats in a lock fit snugly, they don’t need tying up to stop them crashing about as the water flows and swirls. Opening and closing paddles and gates is much easier with another pair of hands or two, and conversation whilst waiting for locks to fill or empty makes time fly.

We are seeing holiday boats appearing on the cut now, so company won’t be in short supply for long but the final wide locks on this stretch of the Shropshire Union have been lone affairs for us. These last 6 locks are approached through stunning scenery with wide reaching views across to the Peckforton Hills and the turrets of the castle there, and moorings at the foot of Beeston Crag, topped by the medieval ruined keep built by Ranulph de Blundeville no less. Part of the 34-mile-long Sandstone Trail winds its way in sight of both fortresses as they guard the Cheshire Plain.

So to the final big 6 – Wharton’s (7ft 8), Beeston Iron (7ft), Beeston Stone (8ft 6), Tilstone (9ft 8) and the double Bunbury Staircase (15ft 7 in total). Each lock is unique, and each has its own stories to tell, some dramatic, some courageous, some poignant and some celebratory. Tilstone for example is surrounded not just by trees in its wooded glade but by history and memories. The lock itself was constructed out of sandstone in 1772 and is now an historic listed structure, as is the Mill, now converted into a house. It overlooks the lock, right by the listed single span bridge dating from 1767 that takes the road to Bunbury. At the other end of the lock is the circular Linkman’s Hut which is also listed. I wonder if the lengthsmen who had responsibility for set lengths of canal were also ‘linksmen’?

There are modern memories recorded here too, of people who loved this spot, remembered by plaques on a sturdy seat where loved ones can sit to remember them and watch boats navigating the lock. A well kept rose bed was created by the family of Jane Morris in her memory after she chose this peaceful spot to end her suffering from illness and depression in 2014.

These wide locks are on what was originally the Chester Canal, linking Nantwich to the River Dee at Chester. It is now part of the Shropshire Union Canal.

We’ve made it now through the Bunbury Staircase and now we shall be ferried up and down hills by narrow locks – bliss! They will take us along the Llangollen Canal, the Montgomery Canal and then back to the Shroppie to the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal where we have an appointment at Kinver at the end of March or beginning of April (canal time you see).

By the time we get to Kinver we will be nearing the end of Lent which started on Tuesday with pancakes for us on board. So it appears I’ve given up alcohol, chocolate and wide locks for Lent! Two of those will fuel my contribution to the aid efforts for Ukraine.

So lar, so very good

Storms, winter chills plus threats from war and sanctions to fuel supplies and costs are challenging individuals and businesses right now. The lessons we’ve learned may help everyone.

For us living in our 50ft home/office/workshop staying comfortably warm is something people feel we struggle with. If I had £1 for every time someone says “Is it cold on the boat?” or “Stay warm” – I might be able to fund much of our energy bills!

One area of our energy usage is actually nudging not into deficit but into profit! It’s exactly 11 months ago that we invested in 2 x 175 watt (peak) solar panels. Steve installed them himself, and the cost of the panels plus cables, controller, and ancillary parts like drill bits, screws etc was £530.01.

The panels support our electric needs – powering this computer that I use for work (and writing our weekly blogs), running our lighting, charging phones, as well as operating pumps for bilges and water. Without solar input we would have to run the engine (using diesel).

In 11 months what we’ve saved in engine running hours resulting on reduced spending on diesel, servicing, replacement oil and oil filters etc. has come to £559.26 to date, so the solar panels have paid for themselves in less than a year, and generated even during Storms Dudley, Eunice and Franklin.

We are hugely lucky on the canal network. Because we are constantly on the move, if we moor sensibly (not under overhanging walls or high buildings) and angle our panels most effectively, we can maximise every possible ray of sun to reduce our costs. We forage wood for kindling and sometimes also find bigger logs for burning. Gas for cooking, coal for heating and diesel to move, provide power and water heating, float their way to our door thanks to the hugely efficient and reliable coal boats that operate the length and breadth of the inland waterways network. We are grateful to many of them!

These boats – manned by men, women, and often boatdogs – operate whatever the weather, whatever the season, getting through despite storms and closures. They offer a range of services, and wherever we are on the network we can harness their services. It’s not just fuel from diesel, gas, and various smokeless coals to kindling and logs but they often offer pump out services for those that have toilet tanks, and sell other essentials like fenders. For boaters who are continuous cruisers, those in marinas, and those on permanent moorings – these boats are literal, essential lifesavers.

We are always grateful to see them – coming through rain, through gales, through the dark, in the sunshine – they always tie up with a smile and efficient service. They are fascinating people – former engineers, university students, music production experts, mechanics etc. and many are additionally very talented photographers whose enjoyment and knowledge of the waterways comes from unique perspectives. Many coal boats provide the community around them not only essential fuels but a shared passion for the canals, countryside, walking and local pubs through social media, resulting in some seriously excellent recommendations.

I’m grateful to Brian on Alton for coal and first class recommendations for a good read, a good walk and a good pub.

We are fortunate – we are heating a 50ft by 6ft 10inch boat, and whilst we’ve come across a 65ft holiday boat this half term with gas central heating which took on four 13kg gas canisters in a week – we are just heated by the multifuel stove burning coal and wood. We are toasty warm – in fact often down to t-shirts inside! Our space heating runs 24/7 in the cold months and in winter we expect to use about 50kg a week. We’ve just loaded another 240 kgs today – all transferred to us by Jayson from Bargus and put in the containers we placed ready on our roof.

Looking ahead whilst refuelling our diesel tank

Kat filled our tank with diesel as they moored alongside us, Jayson chatted and together they kept track of which customer wanted what, who was next, what the ever changing load was on their boat, with diesel off, coal off and in some cases but not ours, poo on! It’s essential for them to know the weight and distribution of that weight to keep their Bargus safe. Their job isn’t just about steering a boat, lock wheeling, and serious cardio workouts with gas bottles and sacks of coal – it’s a mental workout too!

Together this fleet of hard working individuals keep us and the other boats out there moving, warm and fed. Our costs for heating, cooking, lighting and transport amounted to £1489.00 last year for home and office. This year we expect them to drop thanks to the solar, even with the rising costs of gas and threat to oil prices.

The lessons we’ve learned are clear – investing in solar has paid off; delivering essential services with committed customer service never fails; and neither does the beauty of living afloat.

We all need a fresh, positive perspective to our lives right now. If you want to share the highs and occasional lows of coal boat life you don’t even need a boat – just follow @fuelboatBargus and Brian McGuigan @coalboat_alton and Andrew_Haysom on Instagram. They’ll transport you into a whole new world, wherever you are – and that’s always a good thing.

How was it for you?

Were this week’s storms horrendous, stressful, expensive, devastating or over-hyped events for you? Storms are not something floating home owners take lightly.

Storm Eunice was of course only the latest storm of this winter. In the past 4 months we’ve floated our way through 6 named storms each affecting our narrowboat home/office/and work in different ways. For each though we prepare in similar ways – preparing the boat, ourselves, the dog and, if we have it with us, the car.

Boat… if we know there are storms coming and we have a choice, we would choose a canal rather than river. Flooding from rising water levels is more easily managed on a canal, and on a river you can find yourself unable to get off the boat if levels rise around you.

If we can we would rather moor with rings or bollards set into mooring sites or via chains attached to metal piling alongside the towpath rather than mooring hooks or mooring pins. The pins need to be hammered into the ground and if rain makes the ground very soft as often happens in storms the pins and the attached ropes can come loose or at worst completely detach, leaving the boat drifting free. We’ve rescued too many drifting boats in the past year from soggy pin moorings to risk this with our home. We’ve also brought a couple to the side that have been drifting with ropes trailing mooring hooks which have wiggled free from the metal piling as boats or winds create movement, so although we have them onboard we prefer to use chains. Whatever we have moored to, before a storm we check our ropes and the knots that connect the boat to the mooring point.

So we’ve opted for a canal over a river, fixed mooring points and then no overhanging trees or rickety looking buildings too close by. We take most things off our roof so we don’t lose things, or cause problems for others nearby with missiles hurtling off our boat.

Back in late November Storm Arwen came upon us when we were moored at Fradley Junction near Lichfield in Staffordshire. It brought chilling winds and snow during the early hours. In preparation we had brought in enough fuel for a day or two, put a torch at both exits from the boat and also kept a thermos of hot water ready in case we had to thaw ropes or zips to exit the boat! As it happened the rear metal hatch which we normally use to leave the boat froze solid so we needed to leave via the front cratch.

In early December Storm Barra arrived whilst we were moored at Acton Trussell. The only thing we noticed was an increased number of sticks for the fire conveniently lying on the towpath for us as we walked the dog!

Dog – his activities are curtailed during storms being always walked on a lead just in case a gust blows him into the canal. He does have a habit of walking on the very edge of the towpath so we don’t take any chances. As he’s getting older now he’s going out in a coat and harness with a handle – the coat to keep him warm and the harness to allow me to hoick him out if he goes for an impromptu swim.

Car – we seek somewhere to park away from overhanging trees – Eunice has forced it into a multi-storey car park nowhere near the top and not in the basement in case that floods!

Storm Malik named in late January by our Danish friends began whilst we were moored on the Macclesfield Canal at Bollington. Barely had it whimpered away from Cheshire than Storm Corrie took its place. This was a storm I was most aware of. Corrie appeared during the day whilst we were out walking up to the exposed viewpoint of White Nancy and the gusts were such at they were capable of knocking walkers off balance. It was that night in the dark that I really became aware of Storm Corrie.

The tawny owl who had called the night before fell totally silent and the ever-vocal Canada geese were quiet too. Maybe they moved into the fields to seek shelter in grassy hollows whilst the owl sought a non-swaying shelter.

The long and the short of it was that we survived Corrie…and Dudley so fast forward to Storm Eunice. When she started we were on the Shropshire Union Canal in Chester not far from the famous Cathedral and walls. We were moored to rings and with everything we had space for moved off the roof. Some sacks of coal remained on the roof and so did some plants. I had to hope that the latter would be heavy with the regular recent downpours not to be hurled into the canal. If they disappear and they float, I will fish them out if I can. Anything loose on the roof has been put into the cratch (the space at the front of the boat) and the cratch cover securely zipped and fastened. It is old and doesn’t fit as well as it did because it has stretched in some places and shrunk in others (we’re heading towards a replacement in late spring) but hopefully it will hold.

I managed to complete meetings and work assignments before the worst of Eunice arrived. Like anyone in a bricks and mortar house or office, we could lose internet or phone signals if nearby masts are affected but it didn’t happen.

Around 1pm (Friday) the wind started picking up. The gusts caused the canvas cratch cover at the front of the boat to start tugging and pulling against its zips and fixings. If it rips it rips…and everything underneath it will be at risk of being hurled into the canal. The storm brought moment of calm and then sudden squalls of noisy violence which left my heart in my mouth as the cover thumped and the boat swung on what slack the wind created in the ropes as they strained tight before hitting the side once more. There is nothing to do at these times but sit tight, hope and distract ourselves. I put on music to cover the sound of the gasps and groans from me and the boat!

White horses gallop past on waves moving rapidly down the canal past the Cathedral and past the boat. Water slaps against the metal hull making huge gulping sounds as it is squeezed into the gap between the stone canal bank and the boat. The boat lurches in the big gusts and rocks gently afterwards as if recovering ready for the next onslaught. Inside everything that is hanging, plants, coats, swings and sways. The water is choppy in the dog’s water bowl to his surprise. Although he’s now deaf and can’t hear the chorus of thumps and bangs he can feel the agitation. Normally he sleeps through the afternoons as we work but the storm unsettles him so he sleeps with one eye open…just in case.

We are lucky – we can’t be affected by power cuts – we generate power from the engine and solar panels on the roof (surprisingly the morning of Eunice brought us 200 watt hours).

Eunice in Greek means a joyous victory and I think our preparations have helped us to a victory over the strength of the storm. We have had one loss – but a doormat seems minor.

These storms provide a life lesson for us all not only of the imperative to reduce global warming but of managing risk – preparing well, practicing, planning for every eventuality and hoping.

I hope you survived Eunice as unscathed as we have, and as we all move forward to Storm Franklin whenever that arrives, that we can all prepare effectively and survive through a combination of planning and luck.

Work-life collision

Just when we thought we’d got that work-life-balance thing spot on – but we’ve been discovering how confusing it can be when work and life collide.

It’s more of a linguistic shunt than a literal crash… so to explain…

One side of our business is property letting – bricks and mortar, rather than floating homes.

nb Preaux, our office, workshop and home, turning onto the Wardle Canal from the Trent & Mersey

Our own home and office is a 50ft narrowboat – this week navigating the Trent and Mersey, Wardle and Shropshire Union Canals. The latter is positively busy – more moving boats than we’ve seen for weeks! It’s also very beautiful.

We’ve got used to dealing with leaks on the water – leaking locks, leaking water tanks and leaking windows come to mind.

Leaks spring from all over the place sometimes!

We’ve been tackling leaks of a different kind for some tenants – leaking radiators. That demanded a call to draw on a well established relationship with a plumber local to the radiators. Given that our properties are in different places we keep up good relations with plumbers, electricians and carpenters in several locations. Networking remotely you might say!

Another facet of the business is journalism with some PR (public relations). The journalist welcomes leaks but PR is somewhere you generally prefer NOT to have them. Fortunately there weren’t any this week although we did pass a reminder of a political leak which has resulted in a positive flood of bad news for the Government over the past year or so.

Then, as we were heading into another lock (and we’ve tackled a fair few in recent days), we had a crisis call from another tenant – about a different kind of lock. He was locked in his bathroom! As we tackled one kind of lock we were simultaneously sorting a solution to a different kind of lock for him and by the time we were heading into the next lock for us, he was free and a repair was underway.

Managing work and life whilst floating through the British countryside demands multi-tasking but we don’t duck that – in fact we revel in it, and we picked up another delightful duck this week – meet (early) Valentine!

Happy Valentines’s Day and have a good week – at work and in life!

Sod’s Law and Tiger Traits

This Year of the Tiger is about courage, bravery, and resilience. We’ve all been developing and drawing on those in these recent years, but perhaps now more than ever as post pandemic stresses build, we are going to need our tiger qualities.

In a small way we’ve drawn on them a lot this week, discovering yet more challenges to living afloat, and seeking out positives for balance. Living afloat reinforces that balance is essential – like in business, work, or life in general. Too much weight on one side can overbalance you and if you aren’t careful – sink you.

What threw us off balance this week…[tiger collective nouns can be a streak, an ambush or a hide. This week we had a streak of bad luck which ambushed us and led me to want to hide, believe me!]

Our senior boat dog (apparently 98 in human years) began serious hobbling. Was it a flare up of his arthritis for which he has daily tablets? No idea, but it seriously curtailed walks to very short strolls. I gave him 3 days rest to see if it would resolve as lugging him to a vet near our mooring seemed a ridiculous option (he’s a big spaniel, not fat but about 18kgs and the vet was nearly a mile away). He certainly couldn’t have walked it.

Rest seemed to resolve the issue so I had just heaved a sigh of relief when UGH! At 2.30 one morning he suffered a serious gastric attack – a nightmare in a confined space. Suddenly we were left with a vast amount of washing… and no machine yet… and we’d left the town with the laundrette… and there wasn’t one for miles…

Dog was starved for 48 hours and walked on a short lead to prevent scavanging (probably the cause). He’s perked up now but keeps giving me hard stares for my cruelty in reintroducing food in small portions and all mixed with cooked rice which takes him a while to eat being lots of little morsels!

The washing meanwhile was consigned to our biggest bucket, rinsed copiously at the nearest water point, and soaked with disinfectant for a couple of days out in the cratch whilst we travelled nearer to a laundrette.

But… arriving at the marina with a laundrette no washing machines were working. My brother Spud co-authored and illustrated the hilarious book Sod’s Law of the Sea based on Murphy’s Law (‘What can go wrong will go wrong’) and this week I felt sufficient material for Sod’s Law of the Canals was building up!

But things that rebalanced us…

A visit from a wonderful friend armed with goodies. Luckily for her she wasn’t still staying on board when the dog was ill.

Long country walks in beautiful new surroundings – always a tonic, and even better in good company. A greater spotted sign means every time I hear a woodpecker now, I think “Aha, it’s Brian!”

Thank you Freddie! I think I have a spongy brian rather than a spongy bone round it!

Dog improving in health if not in affronted expressions.

We have a car this week so managed to get to a distant laundrette – and all washing is DONE!

I plucked up the courage to cruise alone on day 503 afloat (well, plus affronted dog) whilst Steve moved the car – not something we normally do and it was a delight. Sod’s Law though – met a boat at a blind bridge as might be expected! On the plus side no collision and all was fine.

And last but a real highlight .. a visit to China – and Egypt! If you haven’t visited the hidden Staffordshire gem that is Biddulph Grange Garden – do. Created by James and Maria Bateman who owned the Grange in the mid 1800s this is a remarkable place.

It encompasses a Chinese garden modelled on the willow pattern plate design. Oriental plants flourish amid a Great Wall with sculpted arches, an ornate wooden temple and bridge, watched by a massive stone frog and a huge gilded water buffalo relaxing resplendent under an ornate canopy.

The giant beatified bovine is by Benjamin Waterhouse-Hawkins. A notable English sculptor, he made the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs, (now Grade I listed structures). They still inhabit London and they’re free to see!

Bateman was a visionary – creating the ultimate travelogue for a pandemic world with his garden incorporating a Geological Gallery for people to see first-hand collected fossils from across the world. His Egyptian garden has sphinxes, and a pyramid entered under the sign of Ra which houses the monkey god Thoth. It contrasts with a half-timbered Cheshire cottage complete with stone sculpted pine cones.

Whilst many will enjoy these National Trust gardens in Spring and Autumn when the spectacular plants and their colours are the highlight, to visit in the winter is a chance to see the unadorned but quite remarkable structure and symmetry behind the scenes.

It’s a lesson for the future – plan get the foundations right and whatever you create will last. Have courage in your convictions, and resilience to keep going – it’s never all plain sailing – as Sod’s Law dictates!

Peaking early in 2022

The past is the past – whether two years, two hundred or two thousand years ago. It creates and shapes our future.

This week has seen us travelling (for us) the final stretch of the Peak Forest Canal – known as Peak Forest Upper as it stretches into the Peak Forest, through ancient landscapes of fells, woods, and into history itself. Another new stretch for us early in the year, and an historic one in the history of our nation.

The terminus of the canal is two-pronged – to the left is Buggy Basin (Bugsworth Basin) at Buxworth and the right travels into the town of Whaley Bridge.

Buggy Basin was the largest and busiest inland port on Britain’s narrow canal system and the only one to survive intact. It holds Ancient Monument status thanks to the efforts of the Bugsworth Basin Heritage Trust (previously the Inland Waterways Protection Society). Due to their efforts not only canal history but our industrial heritage is here for us all to see in this remarkable place. It was hugely important in its day, a complex of transhipment canal arms and basins situated at the end of a six mile tramway from the limestone quarries of Dove Holes. Not only would there have been up to 20 barges a day loading limestone and quicklime – the latter the output of the lime kilns built alongside the basin at Navigation and Gnats Hole. The loads from kiln and quarry were essentials to fuel Lancashire’s heavy industry.

Now this hub of industrial activity is given over to leisure boats and walkers. It is not silent though, particularly in winter with no leaves on the trees the busy A6 passing on the far side of the basin lends a constant hum. Easy mooring exists on provided mooring rings, and a convenient pub – The Navigation Inn a short stroll from the basin. For boaters there is a draw of water, waste and an Elsan point too.

The more recent past awaits down the other arm of the canal which wends into Whaley Bridge, the town made (in)famous in August 2019 amid fears a reservoir dam would collapse. Some 1500 people were evacuated from their homes in the town amid fears the town would face a devastating flood.

Thanks to efforts from RAF teams operating Chinook helicopters, engineers from Canal and River Trust (who operate the reservoir) and volunteers from the community, disaster was averted. Reminders remain throughout the town and work continues to decommission the damaged spillway that looms over a children’s playground, and create a newly routed replacement which is hoped to be operational by 2023. Until then the reservoir is kept nearly empty and the Peak Forest and Macclesfield Canal water levels are maintained with high pressure pumps from the remaining reservoir and River Goyt. These run 24/7 near the boaters’ services by the Transhipment Warehouse which now contains a community space alongside one of the most atmospheric and secondhand bookshops.

We shall always remember this basin at Whaley Bridge as The Place Steve Fell In The Canal. Somehow he came off the boat whilst mooring, bashing his knee, thumb and ribs on the boat as he fell. Then followed the indignity of being hauled out by one arm and landed dripping on the towpath. (That’s why I didn’t have a spare hand to take photographs!)Dry clothes and a whisky were immediate recovery requirements.

Wherever you travel (or swim) on this stretch reminders of the past – historic or recent – punctuate your journey. It has shaped who we are and how we live – the heavy industry has given way to new industries driven by demand, like the Swizzles- Matlow factory which makes the New Mills stretch of the canal a sherberty paradise from its home in the former Brunswick cotton mill.

Rather him than me – we travelled under this holding our breath, but glad the essential Swizzels factory is being looked after!

This is the home of Drumsticks, Fizzers, Refreshers and the iconic Love Hearts. You can personalise your own Love Hearts with whatever message you like. What would yours be?

Wifi has been good all week which was great news for work, and now we’ve Peaked early by completing the remainder of the Peak Forest in January. We completed the section from Ashton under Lyne down to Marple Junction last summer on our way back from our Yorkshire trip. Marple Locks are currently shut for major repair work so we can’t head back that way… where next we wonder? Keep following us to find out.

Oh Pooh!

This week started with Winnie the Pooh Day (the birthday of author A.A. Milne). As ever the ursine who always underestimated himself as the Bear of Very Little Brain, got our life afloat spot on in a succinct reminder which seems valid for everyone, however they are living and working.

Credits to A.A.Milne and E.H Shepard, as wonderful a pairing as Pooh and Piglet!

So often we forget that life is not a series of hurdles to be overcome, bags of money to be gained or promotions to be won, but just as Pooh says, a journey to be experienced, and to be honest, to be enjoyed. If hurdling, money, or promotions are how you get your enjoyment – fantastic, but if they aren’t then maybe make this year 2022 one for enjoying your life, channeling your efforts into the things that do give you pleasure.

Recognising that the experience of journeying is actually one of the delights for us of living and working afloat, we brought a long stay in Bollington to an end this week after three fabulous days of visits from family and friends. Bollington is a delightful spot, but who knows what other delights await us? Staying in one spot, however beautiful, has the potential to reduce our adventures and experiences.

Clarence Mill, a former cotton mill now home to apartments, multiple businesses and the delightful Cafe Waterside

The rain cleared as we set off, cruising past Cafe Waterside which has become a second home to us this past few weeks (another reason we need to move on!).

We headed up the Macclesfield, under the rather beautiful Hag Footbridge – I’d love to know how it got it’s name as the stone bridges around it are all obviously named after people – Ryles, Braddocks, and Grimshaws being just three. Dare I say the first three sound solidly male and have been given sound stone structures…?

One of the most enjoyable parts of living as continuous cruisers is the endlessly changing views from our windows. Every day brings something new. We found ourselves iced in this week – in two different places on the Macc.

We had to wait for the sun to come up and melt the ice before we could move on each time, once as we needed to move once because we had been in one place for a long time (for us!), and once to access services. Moving through thick ice can damage the blacking on your own boat and on that of others, so we only move in very thin, broken or melted ice if we have to. We were passed by CRT work boats and its evident there’s a lot of work going on on towpaths and cutting back vegetation in addition to the major works.

Once underway it was all change as we completed the Macclesfield and turned onto the Peak Forest Canal. This time we can’t turn to Marple as the flight of locks are shut for significant winter work by CRT (Canal and Rivers Trust), so we carried on to the Canal Forest Upper which is new to us – Buggy Basin and Whaley Bridge beckoning ahead. New signage too – yellow and blue bridge numbers instead of black and white – it’s all change here!

It’s not all been visual experiences this week – the sweet smell of Swizzles from the factory at New Mills alongside the canal wafted us on our way.

So another new canal, a new journey, and new experiences – hopefully they’ll keep my mind off the perennial constraints of the far-from-new-pain of the annual tax returns – might these be Pooh’s “problem to be solved”!

Some just have everything

Canals are remarkably like people. They each have their own character, their awkward bits, their lovely parts and their idiosyncrasies. Some, just like some people, seem to be blessed with everything, and that goes for the Macclesfield where we’re moored right now.

The Macc has beauty, history, the right amount of challenge and some of the most beautiful places along its 27.5mile length. It wends its way from Marple in Cheshire where it joins the Peak Forest Canal all the way down to the mighty Trent & Mersey on the outskirts of Stoke-on-Trent.

We’re travelling up the Macc this time, from The Potteries up to the Peak District and that does mean a climb, but thanks to its famous designer, one Thomas Telford, this canal makes its locks very manageable. We encountered a single stop lock at Hall Green of just 12 inches and the other 12 locks which took us up 118 feet were contained in a single flight at Bosley. The Bosley flight is a delight, a mix of long and short pounds between stone locks. It took us just under 2 hours to complete.

Some times the pounds are so short you can see 2 locks in one, but this is the ascent from 12 to 1, 2 bridges included!

Bosley provides a real treat at the top, a set of services that, if you have the right cards (which we don’t) includes washing machines! (Fortunately there are good laundrettes on the Macc at Macclesfield and Bollington). The Bosley Services also boast excellent clean, hot showers – essential for the lucky long term moorers up there, but they provided us a positively delightful spa day treat after 12 locks. (We do have a hot shower on the boat fed by our tank but CRT showers come with unlimited hot water). Bosley has a free book exchange in a cupboard – what more could anyone want? When we called there also seemed to be a free cocktail ingredient exchange on offer too!

The Macc is one of the last narrow canals ever built, created to serve mills (cotton and silk), mines and quarries. It was opened in October 1831 and operated commercially until the 1960s. Now the commercial operation is limited to the essential and friendly fuel boats that ply their trade along its length, and hire boats bringing tourists for blissfully relaxing days and weeks on its waters.

Coal Boat Alton outside the Adelphi Mill. We look forward to a visit from Coal Boat Alton next week!

It has two swing bridges both of which appear on the outskirts of Macclesfield, that notable silk town. The swing bridges of the edge of the Cheshire Plain aren’t toughies like the Leeds and Liverpool types, but the easily power operated Royal Oak and the manual but still easy to use Broadhurst.

Bridges too bear witness to possibilities of combining practicality, commercial considerations and beauty. The turnover, changeover or snake bridges have sinuous curves which saved the horse drawn barges time, enabling the horses to cross the canal without needing to be time-consumingly unhitched and rehitched when the towpath changed sides (time being money) , and the Macc has some of the most exquisite examples.

There are stupendous stone aqueducts at the foot of the Bosley Flight over the River Dane, and at Bollington. The views from these testaments to 19th century engineering and craftsmanship are well worth seeing, whether you make it to them by boat or foot or bike. In the case of the Bollington Aqueduct be warned of the 43 steps up!

Stone also features in the milestones along the length of the canal. During World War II they were nearly all buried to prevent invading enemies using them to find their way through England’s countryside. All bar 3 were found and reinstated, the gaps being filled with new milestones carved from stone quarried from Kerridge Hill behind Bollington.

Bollington is another treasure on the Macc. A small town which boasts two stunning mills, the Adelphi and the Clarence are no longer spinning world-class cotton but are homes to new 21st century businesses including cafes, gyms, offices, upholsterers etc.

The glorious Clarence Mill, now a creative hub

Bollington sits in Happy Valley which enjoys all sorts of therories about how it got its name, from a preponderance of pubs ( currently 15) but apparently really because of a philanthropic mill owner called Samuel Greg Junior. He developed the area around his mill to make life better for his workers with medical attention, a school, library and allotments. He called this Goldenthal, German for Happy Valley. Today the name is used for the whole of Bollington and has also appeared on a continental style ale from the Bollington Brewing Company.

The walks from the Macc are outstanding – as long or as short, as flat or hilly as you could wish for. One of the most accessible is from Bollington rising to White Nancy, an iconic landmark which was originally built on the top of Kerridge Hill as a remarkable summer house by a wealthy landowner. My photos here are from now and when we climbed to enjoy White Nancy in the summer sun last year.

The only thing the Macc doesn’t boast is a tunnel, but with everything else it has to offer quite frankly I think that’s a bonus!

Crisis? It really is an opportunity!

A new year is here that appears for most to herald times at least as difficult and uncertain as its predecessor. That is stressful situation and just adds to the pressures many were already facing as 2021 ended.

Wellbeing and mindfulness increases our resilience to stress, our ability to cope with whatever life, work, colleagues, family, circumstances etc. throw at us. Moving to live and work on a 50ft x 7ft narrowboat 24/7 might be considered the ideal way to increase stress levels, particularly in the winter that drives us inside more.

It seems that for me though that our alternative floating lifestyle has reduced stress whilst interestingly significantly increasing my resilience. Why that might be, I’ll return to in a moment, but first the evidence of how my resilience has increased.

On Monday we left the delightful Staffordshire canal town of Stone where we spent New Year. It was an incredibly mild day and we made good progress through the 5 locks at Stone arriving not far from Trentham Gardens outside Stoke-on-Trent after an excellent short day of cruising amid the winter sun. All was well with the world and it felt like an auspicious start to the new year.

The next morning we set off, looking forward to travelling though Stoke and mooring up that evening on the far side, just by the Harecastle Tunnel, ready for our booked passage through on Wednesday morning. Tuesday was another day of wintery sunshine, mild for the time of year – fortunate as it turned out. We were standing on the back stern deck chatting as we cruised, the dog in his usual place lying at our feet. Within 20 minutes the three of us were engulfed in smoke and steam, billowing from the engine below our feet, accompanied by a piercing alarm and a red overheating warning light.

Smoke and steam abating by this point as we’d managed to stop and moor the boat.

Luckily we were on a part of the canal where we could instantly get to the side and stop. Steve brought the boat in, I grabbed a rope, and leapt off, pulling against the boat’s forward momentum to bring her to a stop, as he switched off the engine, and leapt off holding a second rope to help. Together we pulled the boat in and as soon the boat was stationary, the dog joined us (he tends not to rush).

I hammered in pins and moored the boat whilst Steve explored the issue. There was no panic, no yelling, no stress, just a recognition that we had a problem that needed resolution. It struck me forcibly just how much I personally have changed.

My previous response to what appeared to be a potentially serious situation would have been a drama, with a significant rise in noise and stress levels – pounding heart, raised blood pressure, worry about what might happen (boat on fire – boat sunk – home underwater), what that might mean, what the implications would be. Strangely as I hammered in mooring pins with the remnants of steam and smoke around me, I realised that I was calmly thinking how lucky we were. No snow, no rain, somewhere we could actually moor, and no flames to be seen. I was also thanking my lucky stars we weren’t in the 1.5 mile Harecastle Tunnel when it happened – that would have been a new challenge!

We were safe and moored, the weather was OK for ripping up the floor over the engine, piling stuff on the towpath and exploring the issue. If we really needed it we knew could call on our Bronze package of rescue insurance with River Canal Rescue, so I scrambled back on board with the dog through the cratch at the bow (no way of getting on at the back as the floor was up), and put the kettle on.

Perhaps the lack of time pressure helped – we cancelled the booking through the Tunnel which was our only demand. I checked wifi and the signal was good, so my booked work later in the week could happen from the breakdown spot if needed, and we weren’t that far from shops, so we wouldn’t starve. There was no feeling of acute stress, just a curiosity about what might be the cause and how long it might be before we were chugging along again.

When you are already stressed, adding a crisis on top can be the straw that breaks the camel’s back as we have seen for so many during the pandemic. Family illness and even death, furlough or loss of work, have all added incrementally to base stress levels created by uncertainty and fear.

So what is it that has increased my resilience to a crisis? What allowed me to step back and calmly take the steps needed without adding to the drama of the situation? I believe the increase in my wellbeing has been created by a slower pace of life (should have heeded my mother-in-law years ago when she exhorted me to slow down!); proximity to water with its infinitely calming properties; feeling close to nature and the beauty of the world around us that brings daily joy; and cruciall downshifting so the hamster wheel of apparently endless activity has stopped madly spinning. We live life, not watch it fly by. There’s also of course, the recognition that in the time since we moved to live aboard we have encountered all sorts of hiccups and managed to deal with each in their own way. Our survival success rate to date is 100%.

One example – our last journey through the Harecastle (renamed Scarecastle) Tunnel comes to mind. We picked something up as the doors slammed shut behind us and it fouled the steering although we had propulsion. While Steve worked to resolve it, I fended us off the sides of the tunnel from the bow of te boat with the first thing that came to hand in the near darkness – a table leg. It might not have been textbook cruising, and that table was never the same again, but we made it through with our home intact!

Back to the current crisis – just a day later we were underway again – RCR came to the rescue and diagnosed a perished pipe whose almost invisible pinholes had leaked coolant resulting in the engine overheating. The leaked coolant turned into steam as it came into contact with the heat, while paint flecks began to smoke. The pipe was replaced and rerouted so it doesn’t come so near the engine which should increase its lifetime.

We had to cancel our booked passage through the tunnel and in winter the tunnel is only operating on certain days, so we rebooked for Friday. That gave us two extra days once the engine was functioning, and we made the most of that extra time in the Potteries. I began my BBC reporting career in Stoke some 30+ years ago.

We moored on Hanley’s Festival Park moorings, remnants of the 1986 Garden Festival. From there we managed to explore the former site, discovering a brick scultpure of Josiah Wedgwood near his former Etruria Hall home (now an hotel), a different use for clay than he profited from… and “Windborne”, aka The Feather by Keir Smith which is now surrounded by mature trees and overlooking a McDonalds in the retail park below.

We managed a pint or two – taking on at The Holy Inadequate – a fantastic CAMRA pub which takes you back in time and on a taste trip. And giving – I managed an appointment at the Donor Centre to give my 54th pint in record time (7mins 40 seconds) before enjoying the ubiquitous Club biscuit and a soft drink.

Making the most of our ‘extra’ day we cruised onto the tunnel, moored up in carrot-coloured water (dyed by the iron ore in the surrounding ground), ready for our passage.

No filters – this really is the colour of the water thanks to iron in Harecastle Hill

We walked up to visit the former Goldendale Ironworks site at Tunstall. When working the site would have been easily identified by a constant flame burning off noxious gasses produced in the manufacturing process. Now it is marked by a 21 metre high sculpture, Golden: The flame which never dies created by Wolfgang Buttress. It contains wishes for the future written by local people that were sealed into each of the 1500 glass light spheres when the sculpture was erected in 2016.

I wonder how many of those wishes have come true. Many, I hope, and for those which haven’t maybe 2022 is the year they will.

My own wish for 2022 is for everyone to actively increase their sense of wellbeing, their resilience and their enjoyment of life, and for every employer and manager to make it their business to ensure this happens.

Slow is the only way to go

A new year, a new start and a new month – January named after Janus as my erudite cousin Liz reminded me. Janus was the Roman god of transitions, whose two faces were both reflecting and looking forward. It’s easy to reflect on the calm of the inland waterways (until you meet another boat at a blind bridge of course!).

So as we float gently into another year we look back with gratitude on another year afloat. Steve completed the London Marathon despite Covid delaying his attempts and training. We cruised south for it, after enjoying time on gorgeous waterways in the north. We’ve been hugely fortunate with a year of health, family and friends, love and laughter, work in balance and 365 days of discovery.

My resolutions for 2022 are simple:

Continue to live slowly and seasonally – recognising how rewarding that makes our lives. Slow living allows us to savour moments at work and rest, making the most of life. Work/life balance is about feeling good about what we do and how we do it. We shouldn’t feel bad about doing things slowly and well.
Give at least one smile a day – family, friend, or stranger.
Look for the positive lessons in everything. I won’t beat myself up about things that don’t work but take positives from why they didn’t to move on effectively.
Walk more (aim on 2000+ miles this year) and cut food miles.
Capture a decent close up photograph of a kingfisher – so 365 days of trying!

Thank you for joining our journeys and coming with us as as we float gently through inland waterways, living and working a much enriched life en route.

We look ahead to finding out what lies ahead in another fresh new year, glad to have learned in time that the little things are what really matters.

Life is a journey for us all to enjoy and savour.

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