Tenterhooks, astonishment and unbelievable fortune

Setting a goal and being thwarted can be a challenge. We’ve been thwarted many times in our aim to reach our first ever winter mooring, but last Saturday was the first chance for us to try and make the trip across and up a river to reach our spot – and we went for it.


We started later than intended on Saturday morning, being unsure if the first lock that had been shut since September was actually open or not. Canal and River Trust had said it should have been opened at 4pm on the Friday, but no update appeared electronically to give the green light. Our aim was to go and see if it was open, and if it was, to keep going on through that and the next few locks until we reached the one which Canal and River Trust categorically said was shut because it wouldn’t equalise. That meant we would have to sit on the river somewhere near Zouch (pron. Zotch) or on the lock landing until the lock was fixed and available for use – never idea.



So we bid farewell to the Erewash, and did a slalom round Saturday morning rowers enjoying the Trent as we crossed to the River Soar. Canada geese, who’ve had the river much to themselves for the past two months seemed startled by our presence, taking off in flurries and landing just ahead of us time and time again. As we got alongside the residential boats at Red Hill Marina, people were leaning out to ask ‘Is it open?’ We gave the only reply we could – that if it wasn’t we’d see them again very soon!

Approaching Ratcliffe Lock we could see workboats still alongside the landing area and catch fencing still in place. I felt deflated as I stepped off onto a workboat and made my way towards the fencing, but then suddenly I saw another boater operating the lock. Despite me yelling for her to save her efforts and leave the gate for us, she carefully closed it behind her boat before turning and ruefully pulling a face as she spotted me. At least it meant the lock was open for businesd do I really didn’t care that I then had to battle the heavy gate to get it open for Preaux.



We were in, up and though – our progress noisily monitored by the vocal security cameras on site. And then we were heading towards Kegworth, through the flood lock, and approaching the deep New Lock. Suddenly, we were seeing boats coming the other way. Like travellers of old, we shouted between each other to find out the lie of the land ahead, to discover they had all come through the apparently unusable Zouch Lock that morning. In an instant, our journey took on a new perspective. Instead of sitting on a river for an undeterminate amount of time until a repair was carried out with rain in the immediate future forecast raising the levels, it looked like we might be able to get to our mooring that very day.



We pressed on, going slow, though, as we encountered rowers from Loughborough Boat Club. We know very well what rowers in our family used to say about narrowboats on that stretch…



As the rowers pulled ahead towards their landing stage, we turned sharp left to the lock at Zouch. It was empty, so I opened the gate, let the boat in, and began the test of whether it would actually equalise enough to let us rise and get out of the lock. There was leakage, one paddle was inoperable, but the boat rose, and with two of us shoving, we got a top gate open, and the boat was through.




On past the weirs and stilted chalets, past the emergency flood dolphins giving home to terns and rafts of invasive pennywort but luckily not needed by us or any other boats. I’m struggling to find the definitive etymology of a dolphin as a mooring point, so if anyone knows, please put me out of my misery.


On through the picturesque village of Normanton on Soar with its 12th century Church of St James and over the route of the chain ferry. It’s one of the few remaining chain ferries still operating in the UK and the last in Nottinghamshire. It was first mentioned on a map in 1771 and is still operated by volunteers every weekend afternoon between April and September. Popular with walkers, the fees used to be and probably still are £1 per person and 50p for a dog or a bicycle – a bargain for a unique experience. It also means you can walk across the fields on the far side and be ferried over to a rather good pub!

Next, we cruised alongside Dishley a bit late in the day for the parkrun we helped set up there, but now we’re back in the area forna bit we look forward to getting involved in parkruns again here. On then to Bishop Meadow Lock via an apparent boating graveyard. A very sorry sight, two boats half sunk, and yet sadly, they weren’t to be the last we saw that day. Whether the result of earlier floods, I don’t know, but the problem of boats that have sunk or partly sunk is very real on inland waterways. They aren’t cheap to raise – often in difficult to access places, requiring costly cranes to lift them out. Not every boat is insured. It’s something CRT are well aware of, and a problem they cannot afford to resolve.

They tell boaters clearly “Should your boat unfortunately sink, it’s your responsibility to salvage it, not ours.” They will check the site of the sinking for pollution containment and ensure the boat isn’t in the way of navigation, and they can put owners in touch with specialist recovery contractors but the boat owner has to foot the bill, and some just refuse to do so leaving a wreck in the water.



On then for us past the wrecks, past another sunk boat on the moorings after the lock, through Loughborough where the water was high, and through Pillings Flood Lock which was still open, to the impressive arches of Barrow Road Bridge. The last time I saw it, there was a sunk narrowboat rammed against the arches by the weight of floodwater, which had swept it and its mooring pontoon and slammed them against the brickwork.

Up then to Barrow Deep Lock, the last before our winter mooring. We couldn’t keep the grins from  our faces. We had made it. We hadn’t expected to, but we had. We moored up with glee and headed in the gathering drizzle to one of the nearby pubs for a celebratory very late lunch (the light was beginning to fade).



A quick look at the weather forecast as we ate determined that we really couldn’t spend too many days settling in before we moved to get essential diesel and coal. Our supplies were running very low, and because our batteries are beginning to fail (reaching the end of their lives after an impressive innings), we need to be running the engine to repower the batteries and give us power to live with. Such are the delights of living off grid and at the moment there isn’t much solar most days although we still have occasional glorious bright and power-full November days. The other day I put all the washing in and no sooner had everything I the machine got wet than I had to cut the power to the machine as the battery levels plummeted alarmingly. Eventually we got enough power to get the clothes washed which was a relief. But we are nursing the batteries to keep going as the new battery installation has been delayed, and while we hope it will be sorted before Christmas, that’s a hope rather than a certainty.

Our first night on the mooring was peaceful and we were exhausted so we slept well. The next morning was a small footballer’s Sunday league match and his delight at unexpectedly seeing us join the rest of the family support  team was everything we could have hoped for. He waved with glee, hurtled towards us with his arms , dropped to the ground to hug Boatdog tightly! A perfect welcome!


Since then, we have now made it up river to our former mooring at Sileby Mill for diesel and coal, so we are fully stocked for another few months and can relax. It seems we moved just in time as we’ve also had rain, snow, the river was shut to navigation when it went into flood for 48 hours, and now there’s more snow forecast. It’s been a busy week on the water!

How do you wait?

How do you wait – patiently, productively or frustratedly?

By the time you read this we hope the enforced hebetude of the past weeks will have left us and we will be on the move, making our way at last in the chill morning air across the misty River Trent onto the River Soar.


Every week we’ve been driving to the other side of the rivers and walking across the fields that border the Soar in the shadow of the former Ratcliffe Power Station. We have been to see how work is going to replace both sets of lock gates at Ratcliffe Locks, the initial stoppage started on 16 September and still preventing us from getting across to our winter mooring.

The lock was initially due to be open on 28 October, so taking that into account, we booked our first ever winter mooring on the Soar effective from 1 November. Our thoughts then were that the volatility of the Soar in terms of flooding might be the barrier stopping us getting there on time. Flooding did indeed happen, not directly but indirectly affecting our journey.  The working area for the team working on the lock was inindated and put repairs back.

By the time we cruised down the high and fast flowing Trent from the Trent and Mersey Canal, the work had been delayed by two weeks because of heavy rain and subsequent flooding. We thought we would use that waiting time productively with a leisurely cruise all the way up (and back down) the Erewash Canal. Covid had previously prevented us travelling the entire 11.5 miles and 14 locks of the canal. This time, we made it! All the way up to Langley Mill and back, and then we began the next stage of the wait. We had to come back down to the only full services area on the canal so we had access to empty the loo, fill with water, and dispose of our rubbish.

Every time we move from the boat, we can see towards the Soar, to where we want to be. We have waited, anxiously watching weather forecasts and hoping the dry weather will stay with us. Rain now would delay the lock repair, and if heavy, it would have the potential of pushing the Soar into flood once more and stopping our journey that way.

9

We seem to have made it weatherwise and our walk this week had the team on lock repairs telling us that the lock would reopen at 4pm on Friday 15 November (I’m writing this listening for the ping of the CRT email with the news that it has opened). When we visited, the single remaining crane on site was being used to load equipment from around the lock onto workboats. They were actively moving that kit to the next winter stoppage point, and planning where they would be working next. Our stagnant wait has been a frantic time of activity for them, frustrated too by the enforced delay caused by flooding.



We have tried hard to use the time we have been here on the Erewash productively.  We have celebrated 4 family birthdays, walked in the Peak District, explored the local area finding new walks, met up with old friends, had some necessary welding done in preparation for new battery installation, begun new work projects, eaten way too much cake, become involved in a new community fundraiser, continued with existing work projects for clients, and crafted a great deal ready for Christmas Markets (if you’re in the area do come and find us at the MMC Mountsorrel on 1 December).


For the past two weeks, we have been static on a two day mooring (as have many other boats, although none are heading onto the Soar as we are). We have kept busy, but every day, multiple times a day, we wonder if we will ever get across to our planned mooring.


The “Ifs…” have come to the fore from time to time. If it rains, resulting in floods before the lock is open – what will we do, where should we go for the winter? We can’t go anywhere apart from up and down the Erewash in that instance because we couldn’t get across the river. We couldn’t go too far up the canal either as it has faced problems with vandalism over the past months, creating a major problem for navigation because of impassable water levels. If it looked like Ratcliffe Lock was going to be delayed further, should we try and get back up the Trent and onto the Trent and Mersey Canal? We ruled that one out as this week, the main lock from the T&M onto the River Trent was closed for repairs to leaking gates, lock ladder work, and repairs to the brickwork of the lock chamber. It’s feeling a little like a certain children’s story book – we can’t go back, we can’t go sideways up the Trent or down the Cranfleet cut because the latter would just lead us back onto the Trent and that’s a river we don’t want to have to spend the winter on. We now also know that even when we get through Ratcliffe Lock, there is another lock currently out of action between us and our destination, at Zouch. We’ve been told that might be fixed by Monday, so even if we get through Ratcliffe this weekend, we may have to pause on the Soar until we can get through that lock. More waiting…

So, we need to wait hopefully and patiently. It is often like this in the winter when weather and the winter stoppages for work on the canal and river network make moving something that doesn’t always go to plan. As with any uncertainty, purposeful distraction is essential. We need to stop worries about what we can’t change or know with certainty, taking over daily living. We don’t have any guarantee we are going to get across and get to our winter mooring, but then we don’t have any definitive proof that we aren’t going to, so when faced with uncertainty the most useful thing to do is to stay busy.

The swans swimming up and down and banging impatiently on the side of the boat for snacks remain apparently serene whatever they face in terms of water or weather. We can all benefit from being like them, and adopt Reinhild Niebuhr’s Serenity Prayer advice to “…accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

The emails tonight tell me that another lock on the Soar beyond where we want to go still has problems and hasn’t reopened as expected, and that the Erewash remains closed beyond our mooring for the weekend. Hopefully, technology like webcams may help CRT identify the cause and culprits once water levels recover enough to reopen the navigation.

It’s now gone well past the time the office staff at CRT will have gone home for the weekend, and there’s still been no email telling us that Ratcliffe Lock is open for business. We’ve made the decision to leave here anyway and travel there in hope in the morning. If the lock is open, we will go through. If not, we will either turn round and come back or wait somewhere nearby. I’m not feeling particularly serene or philosophical.



So by the time you read this, the sun will have set on our time on the Erewash. Where we will have got to remains to be seen. Whether we will reach our final destination this coming week or merely shuffle a bit further on to wait somewhere new, we know we need to make the most of wherever we are. Like you, we can’t wish our lives away, but we can make the most of them. I’ll update our Instagram as we go in case you can’t wait until next week’s blog to hear the next instalment!

Going for a festive make or break?


This is the run-up to Christmas in our family – four birthdays in rapid succession, then barely a pause before the festive season presents take over our thoughts.

It is a time that, for many, can literally make or break how they manage financially for the next 6 months, at least. Black Friday, that American time pre-Thanksgiving (last time this week, I shall mention our poor transatlantic neighbours this week), that has now spread across the ocean. Already, there are ‘bargains’ being promoted heavily, and for some, there really will be benefits to be found that will ease the cost of Christmas. For many, though, a ‘bargain’ seems just an excuse to spend money we haven’t got or can’t afford, often without checking that it really is genuinely a bargain.




For me, Christmas is a time to show how much I care for those I love by investing of myself in their gifts. Before they all panic, I will reassure that this festive season will be a mix of making and buying in. I am currently revelling in making items for craft sales but also creating  personalised gifts for each individual family member. Homemade items for me have always been so important. I still treasure the often strangely shaped items that the girls painstakingly carried home from nursery, schools, Rainbows and Brownies, to present to us with a flourish, bursting with pride. Every single time I get these items out, I am reminded, and warmed, by the love with which they were made and given.


I’m out scouting hedgerows and woodland foraging for some of the present making items this year, as well as buying in supplies for weaving and crafting. As many of those requirements as possible are coming from small producers. This week I’ve been lucky enough to be able to get into Leicester, and buy yarn on cones directly from some long-standing small producers. The boat now seems even smaller as part-made, finished items and kits for others to enjoy the joy of making, begin to pile up in boxes ready for selling either from the boat, or at craft fairs locally, or online via Moving Crafts on Instagram.

Even if you don’t make your own gifts this year, you can make a huge difference by thinking who and where you buy what you give. Buying locally and/or buying from small businesses and craftspeople means you are getting a gift that’s been made with thought, care, and skill. Your purchase could give that maker a massive confidence boost and help them keep going for another day, another week, another year. These individuals produce work that is often unique – giving the recipient of our gift something they can really treasure and delight in.



I’ve also had the joy this month of sharing birthday gifts of workshops – painting pottery and making candles in teacups. The amount I’ve learned, the fun we had in shared new endeavours, is something that is impossible to put a price on. In the past I’ve had a fantastic time at willow weaving and Christmas wreath making workshops run by skilled individuals passionate about their crafts and keen to share them with others. Their generosity and gift for passing on their knowledge and skills makes for a very special present, even better if you get to share that creative experience with the giver and spend special time together.

So this festive time, let’s all think before we give and gift. Each of us could make a massive difference to many people, not just the lucky person directly getting a present from us.

It really can be so much better and more powerful to give rather than receive, especially if we do so thoughtfully.

Go slow and say no for a better life

We move slowly through life living and working on a narrowboat, but we get as much if not more done than we used to, at a fraction of the stress.



Our stresses are perhaps different, but the pace at which we approach and deal with them appears to make that difference. I am particularly aware that when the pace of life ramps up, that’s when the that’s when the pace of stress increases.

I had a discussion with a client this week about saying no and how that disappoints people, how it can make us feel bad that we see it as a negative when actually saying no to things that don’t chime with our values or that we feel would be wasting our precious time is actually really important.  Doing less is no bad thing. It gives us more time to invest in those things that really matter to us. We can slow down without losing anything. Saying no isn’t negative – it means we’re being considered, and evaluative, and that’s what slowing down actually allows us to do, be more effective in what we do do.

This inability to say no and to feel pressure to do everything seems a gendered issue – would you agree or disagree?



As we travel slowly through our chosen way of life, it is evident we gain a different perspective through this change of pace. We are able to cultivate good habits like building in relaxation and our own self-care. We actively have time to think of nothing but enjoy where we are and what we’re seeing around us. This week it has been the colours of autumn.  We savour this just like a good meal – we are savouring our time and how we spend it.



We are moving even more slowly now because we are waiting for repairs to a lock to allow us to move to our chosen winter mooring spot. That has meant we’ve had time to do things we wouldn’t generally do, like in my case, taking the bus for an exciting if exhausting city shopping trip.



All those people rushing about around me made me take stock and actively slow down (probably to the annoyance of those behind me on the crowded pavements). Why was I joining the rush when I didn’t need to? Moving to one side and taking my own pace, making my own choices rather than getting barged along gave me back control, and control is important to give us autonomy and active mindfulness.

As we travelled down the Erewash this week, we found ourselves travelling even more slowly thanks to problems with locks but this gave us invaluable time to spend with people we would never have otherwise met.

Strangers are wonderful – they stepped in to help with closing gates, shoving and pushing gates that wouldn’t move, offering advice, and helping, and this was strangers of all ages from youngsters to pensioners. We were so grateful for their willing and generously offered help. Many said it made them feel better, being able to know they had done something for someone else. We will pay that help forward and benefit too.

During this period of waiting, this time of enforced calm, we are using the even slower than usual pace to plan. We’ve begun planning ahead whilst we’re slowing down even more for winter, using the time to make changes to our precious living/working/travelling space. We want something that works for us and how we live, that makes us smile every time we see it for years to come, that makes us think fondly of those who crafted it for us, and makes the most of our space.

Rather than rushing in, we are taking time, researching, talking to other boaters about what works (or doesn’t work) for them, and slowly making decisions, considering options, giving time and being prepared to change our views in the slow process of making the right moves.

We are happy to say a firm no to the ready-made, to the chipboard solutions in favour of handmade, handcrafted and inevitably more expensive solutions that will make us smile with joy as we move forward slowly through the years ahead. We may not manage to afford everything we would love to do in this way, but we have years to continue this project, so we don’t want to rush, but to do it right.



This week let’s think clearly about saying no to what doesn’t chime with our values and goals and take time to move slowly enough to allow us to enjoy,  to savour what it is that we do choose to do.

Celebrations, challenges and meeting Winston

We made it up to Langley Mill and through the first lock on the Cromford Canal, gaining our 10th IWA Silver Propellor Challenge location on my birthday to acquire the delightful present of a rather unique location plaque!


Getting here up the Erewash was a challenge itself, to be honest, but one worth undertaking. It hasn’t been an easy canal to navigate, and one that ends up in a vicious cycle. Because it so little used, repairs and basic maintenance it would appear are low on the CRT list of priorities, and thus things deteriorate more, and then the state of the infrastructure means boaters are less inclined to head this way. We never saw another moving boat all day.


To detail our findings; there are 11 locks between Sandiacre where we set off and this final one onto the mooring basin on the Cromford. Each normally has 4 gates (2 top and two bottom, 2 ground paddles and 4 gate paddles).

  • The first, Pasture Lock had both ground paddles not working, and the top lock gate paddles were stuck part open
  • A burnt out cruiser was sunk under the M1 bridge between this and the next lock (we had seen a warning about it)
  • Stanton Lock worked but was hard
  • Hallam Fields worked
  • Gallows Inn lock the ground paddle and top gate paddle on the towpath side were jammed and wouldn’t open fully
  • Between there and Greens Lock a sunk cruiser was floating about
  • Greens Lock one ground paddle inoperable, the other won’t open fully, offside gate paddle jammed at 25% open and neither of the top gates would open so I squeezed the boat out through the middle gap
  • We were beginning to feel grumpy at this point, but the autumn colours and whizzing kingfishers raised spirits, and Potters Lock came with a bonus.  Local youngsters on half term were happy to help and learn how a lock worked. They said they’d never seen a boat going through so glad we could enlighten them
  • The next 4 locks worked but were heavy and hard but worked, so that was Barkers, Stenson, Shipley and Eastwood
  • Then we arrived at the end. Langley Mill Lock is looked after by the volunteers of the ECP and DA…Erewash Canal Preservation and Development Association. That lock into the final basin works smoothly, easily and everything moves like clockwork, a mechanical testament to the advantages of regular maintenance.

I look forward to the day when they extend the Cromford Canal and we can go further into Derbyshire along its length.

It’s been handy being up here for shops and pubs. We managed to celebrate both our birthdays this week and contributed our bit clearing up rubbish and scrubbing signage en route.

We also managed a walk from Derbyshire to Nottinghamshire and back along the Iron Giant, the towering Bennerley Viaduct strides quarter of a mile 20m high across the Erewash Valley just a stone’s throw from the canal. It is well worth a visit and is a remarkable tribute to the power of volunteers, are are the Erewash and Cromford Canals. The Iron Giant is going to get a visitor centre and new paths in the coming months so will offer even more on a visit, although the highlight for visitors old and young when we went was the responding toot from freight engines below to a hopeful wave from high above.

We gained an excellent view of Winston the Wind Turbine. He appears on Google maps as such – I love the unusual on a map. He’s apparently located at the Newthorpe and Giltbrook Sewage Farm and was actually named Windy Winston by the pupils of Awsworth Primary School nearby. He is said to be the tallest wind turbine in the country. Anyone know any different?


Waste disposal demands we return south again (back through those 11 locks plus another 3) even though we can’t yet cross the Trent to the Soar. The only CRT waste disposal on the canal that we’ve found is at Trent Lock, so we need to return there to get rid of our rubbish some ours, some picked up en route.

The river updates over the past week have been in flood and out of flood and the Ratcliffe Lock is now scheduled to reopen on 15 November so we won’t get onto our winter mooring for 1 November but with a long day and no more flooding we could, should, might make it on 16 November. Everything crossed!

Fraud, dripping and fraught navigation

Ey up mi duck – we made it! If you read last week’s update we’ve completed the first part of Plan C. We’ve donned our life jackets (all 3 of us) and hurtled down the Trent before Storm Ashley sends it back into flood, and executed a sharp left turn from the river onto the Erewash Canal.

Gongoozlers gather at Trent Lock for good reason – it’s a great place to watch dramas unfurl as skippers of narrowboats, widebeam and cruisers navigate their way on a five-way watery junction overlooked by the massive and now redundant cooling towers Ratcliffe Power Station. The Cranfleet Cut, the River Trent which goes right through, the River Soar and the Erewash Canal all meet at this point, and the two tricky turns are from the Cranfleet or the Trent onto the Erewash. You need to get cut across the flow of the Trent which is barrelling towards a non-navigable weir at this point to navigate between the abutments of the bridge onto the lock landing for Trent Lock (the bridge over the Erewash mouth bears the scars of innumerable collisions).

The junction (the white sign unser the left tower is the route to the Soar where we want to end up for the winter if we can.

The Skipper executed a perfect turn disappointing the onlookers, and we made it up Trent Lock to moor by the facilities and head immediately to celebrate our successful achievement of the first part of Plan C – not into one of the two hostelries that flank the lock, but to the unsurpassable Trent Lock tea rooms. 

Where else would you discover Rabbit Stew and Pork Dripping on Toast with Scratchings? I tucked into one with nostalgia but lacked courage for the other… maybe on the return journey?

But should I try pork dripping on my return?

The Erewash is another world, unlike waterways we’ve already encountered. It isn’t an ‘easy’ canal, but it began by repaying the effort of actually getting onto it. (Our last visit here was cut short and passed in delirium with Covid). Back to this trip and we could be forgiven for thinking we were hallucinating again – within minutes we were passing houseboats with ornate balconies like exotic Mississippi Steamboats, boatyards redolent with authenticity rather than modernity and then we faced our next pretty daunting challenge. We are in a constant state of flux at the moment, still renovating the boat around us, updating things and making changes for the way we want to live aboard. This entails a very major and rather expensive investment in terms of batteries (more on this when we get near to that point I promise). The first stage requires welding in the engine bay to safely hold the new battery installation. Quite how we manage our existing batteries in the meantime we haven’t quite established but Heath Robinson is assisting with that issue. 

To get to the recommended welder we headed to the boatyard at Sheet Stores Basin where once they made the massive ‘sheets’ or tarpaulins that covered cargo on rail wagons and barges. We were told to back into their working yard under a bridge presumably without hitting the widebeam moored opposite. The the Skipper did it perfectly, mooring under a bridge to a tree for the first time as instructed! Examination of the job over, and our requirements written in chalk on a piece of angle iron, we set off and will manoeuvre our way back in there from a different angle on our journey back down the Erewash for the new battery tray to be welded into place. 

From Sheet Stores we made our way up to Long Eaton and moored up on the edge of town by a beautiful park, the formidable architecture of former lace mills now populated by furniture makers and small industrial units, past greedy squirrels, kingfishers that dart by in a flash of turquoise and always lift the spirits en route (no, I still haven’t got a decent picture but I keep trying), squawking moorhens and a solitary heron. 

Long Eaton houses an exquisite library building – small but highly popular when I called in to work there for a change. Moving on up through Long Eaton Lock we came to Dock Holme Lock and promptly ground to a halt. An elderly cyclist adorned with a trilby sagely watched me setting the lock for the boat to enter and declared, “You won’t be *** going any further duck,” before accelerating away on his electric machine. I soon realised what he meant – looking ahead the pound (the section between two locks) was looking low. Not knowing to what it’s normally like, I managed to get us into the lock and as it was filling wandered up a little way, to see to my horror a boat completely out of the water, hull exposed, a narrow channel of water in the centre of the canal and nothing but reeds and mud at the sides. Certainly not enough for navigation. Explaining briefly to Steve and abandoning him with the boat in the lock I set off up to the next lock to see if I could resolve the situation by letting water down from above (hopefully without creating more problems).

A few faces of the Erewash – glorious, drained and artistic

It is a long half-mile pound between Dock Holme and Sandiacre and on the way I saw other boats, cruisers and narrowboats at horrendous angles because of the drained pound. Shouted conversations across the cut told me that it was the result of vandalism and had happened several times recently. I made it to Sandiacre Lock and began the slow process with a pound that long of letting water down whilst contacting Canal and River Trust to tell them of the problem and explain what I was doing. They promised to send someone but in the meantime I managed to get enough water down to refloat the stranded boats in the pound, and for Steve to limp our boat over the cill (step) of Dock Holme Lock and out into the centre channel. Just as he appeared at Sandiacre Lock a rather irate boater brandishing a windlass appeared to berate me for leaving all the paddles open and draining the pound above, causing her boat to list! I hastily explained and she was immediately understanding but told us just how often the issue had happened in recent weeks, and then she kindly helped us through. Most boaters are supportive of each other in this community we pull together. 

Coming through Sandiacre Lock brought us into another world – one of bustle and history. Sandiacre itself was once renowned for starch works, brickfields and lace. The Padmore Moorings were once coal wharves and overlooked now by 21st century cctv cameras but also by 19th century gas lights – donated by Terah Hooley (wonderful name) who built the impressive Springfield Mill on the other side of the canal. The mill complete with its four beautifully semi circular staircase turrets is now apartments but in its day it had its own gas works, and Hooley donated 50 lamps to the village on the understanding the gas to power them was bought by the council from his works! 

Gas lamps, beautiful mill buildings, signs of the times and a bobbin milestone

Incidentally Hooley’s son, Ernest Terah Hooley was mill manager for its first five years of operation. He though is ‘credited’ with being one of the most prolific financial fraudsters, cooking up schemes worldwide which resulted in him being declared bankrupt four times, sent to prison three times and en route getting nearly made a peer. He floated the companies that were behind names we know today like Singer, Raleigh, Dunlop, Bovril and Schweppes. But he overstretched himself, attracting investment into many of his floatation schemes when they were little but smoke and mirrors, and that was the downfall of “The Splendid Bankrupt” as he became known. 

If Ernest had ever sought penitence (which seems pretty unlikely) he could have made his way up Starch Lane to the ancient church of St Giles. Parts of it date back to the 12th century, its broach spire is 13th century,  and within the original Norman Arch are carved the “Sandiacre Imp” and apparently a dragon (looks more like an attempt at an ox to me!). 

Looks like there’s going to be plenty to keep us occupied here on the Erewash as we wait for the expected floods to abate and work to be completed on Ratcliffe Lock to let us cross the Trent onto the Soar – hopefully next month. We still have another 7.5 miles and 10 locks to travel before we reach the navigable end of the Erewash and the Langley Mill basin on what was once the Cromford Canal. 

Building resistance while getting scuppered

Our coddiwompling is coming to an end for a while as winter draws near. It is possibly my favourite season living afloat and we’ve decided to try something new this year.

For the first time, we’ve determined to try staying in one place for the winter months near our family. A couple of weeks ago we sat outside a pub at 8am (not desperate for anything stronger than a decent internet connection), to ensure we could log onto the Canal and River Trust website to book a place on the winter mooring of our choice. Some winter moorings are very popular apparently and being winter mooring virgins we have no idea if the one we want would be one of those.



We managed to get on and have booked for four whole months from November 1! Four whole months in one place will allow us to be close to family and friends for the winter, a chance to help out, to be involved parents and grandparents for a time, and to enjoy being part again of local clubs and groups. It should be a sociable winter and hopefully also allow us to attract lots of additional paid work.

Plan A – al panning with canalplan.uk

So our plan is to return to Leicestershire for the winter. We didn’t make that last year because of flooding, so we knew it could be a risk, but the long-range forecast looked hopeful. However, getting there now isn’t actually going to be as straightforward as we or you might think. On the day we decided and paid (a LOT of money), we saw some horrendous pictures from the canalised River Soar, and yes, that’s the river where we intend to be mooring.

So going straight there from the Caldon was out. Plan A involved 72 miles, 6 furlongs and 51 locks. It would have taken us down onto the Trent and Mersey Canal, travelling its length to Shardlow, where we would join the River Trent at Derwent Mouth. From the Trent we would then turn onto the River Soar. At the time we planned this both the Trent and the Soar were in flood so closed to navigation. Plan A catered for this climate change weather situation because over the years we’ve come to expect this. There was some planned work expected to be finished on the Soar on 25 October so we had time to sit and wait for both rivers to come out of flood and that work to finish for us to do a dash (such as you can in a narrowboat) to our mooring location. That section of the journey, particularly with a fast flowing Trent, could be done in one very long day.

Plan A was scuppered by Canal and River Trust and the weather. They had begun replacing both sets of lock gates at Ratcliffe Lock on the Soar before the flooding began, but as the water levels rose, they had to abandon the work. This was a repair that was due last year in the winter stoppages programme, which operates from November to April annually. Guess what? Flooding then meant they couldn’t do the work then, so they started it this autumn.

Thanks Simon and gulp that’s a narrowboat sunk beyond Kegworth lock!

So we then started to look at Plan B. That involved a detour, a serious detour. It was 144 miles, 2 3/4 furlongs, 97 locks, 2 moveable bridges and 5 tunnels resulting in over 3 miles travelling underground.

It would take us to Fradley Junction on the Trent and Mersey, onto the Coventry and  ultimately via a series of waterways onto the Leicester Line starting in Northamptonshire. We would then work our way down to Foxton Lock Flight, and right through Leicester before arriving on our planned River Soar mooring.

But Plan B was also scuppered by Canal and River Trust and circumstance. In order to get there, we would need to wait until the river Spar section was out of flood, and that could take us into another problem. One lock at the Leicester end of the Soar is already out, and work to resolve structural damage and a hole in the bottom gate there is awaiting flooding to abate so that won’t even be started until the waters go down. At that point it’s highly likely that a planned stoppage at Whetstone Lock south of Leicester will have started if the river has dropped out of flood. That work to replace lock gates and repair brickwork of the lock chamber is expected to take until 19 December to resolve assuming it starts on time on 28 October. So, no way through and highly unlikely that we could get through both hurdles given time scales and flood levels.

Fradley – our last chance to get onto the Coventry…

On then to Plan C…this involved Plan A but at the River Trent junction with the Soar there’s also a junction with the Erewash Canal and we haven’t yet made it up the full length of the Erewash.  Covid scuppered that plan during our initial foray there in June 2022. So Plan C involves the Plan A route plus a voyage up and down the Erewash by which time we will hope to see the river Soar out of flood and Ratcliffe Lock mended so we can do our mad dash to our winter mooring better late than never. That’s a 96 mile, 6 furlongs and 81 lock plan.

Plan C

Will it work? We can but hope it will, remembering from past experience that the unexpected is often invaluable. As I write, both the Soar and the Trent have dropped out of flood, which makes me optimistic . If Plan C doesn’t work, then we’ll just have to magic up Plan D whatever that might be, find a new winter mooring, lose all out money for the original mooring and pray that nothing en route will literally scupper us!

Poo from Peru and centuries of waste recycling

Industrial discoveries are remarkable. Recycling and world trade are nothing new. We were reminded of these this week. Poo from Peru was just one of a Staffordshire mill’s stock in trade until the 1970s. 

The gloriously named Shirley’s Etruscan Bone and Flint Mill has been in operation since 1857, and remains the last steam powered potters’ mill operating in the world. It ground flint, bone and guano (bird poo) from Peru to support the pottery and agricultural industries. The guano was ground down for fertilisers.

Peru became for a time the largest global supplier of bird excrement thanks to anchovies which thrived in the waters off the Chincha Islands located on its southern Pacific coast. These fishy morsels attracted cormorants, pelicans and boobies who lived and then thrived on the islands. The dry climate preserved their droppings and from the Inca on, these droppings were recognised as a powerful fertiliser. While the Incas sought to preserve the birds that ‘laid’ the crop, those who came after them were not as astute and their decimation of millions of tonnes of guano was done at the detriment of the birds and the islands. Man’s greed ultimately destroyed them all. 

It seemed astonishing that an aged industrial site in the Potteries heartland of Stoke-on-Trent was the global centre of this business. Bringing in materials from across the world and initially using canals to send them back out to customers globally. The ground powders of bone, stone, and flint were used to make pottery base materials and glazes. They still are to this day. Powdered flint is added to clay to create earthenware, powdered bone ash, and stone makes bone china and porcelain, while guano is ground down as fertiliser. 

Situated at the junction of the Trent and Mersey Canal which plied its commercial way from Nottingham towards the international port of Liverpool and the Caldon Canal which brought limestone from the Staffordshire Moorlands, this factory now forms the Etruria Industrial Museum. 

This was an industry and a business empire built on making use of items that would be discarded or overlooked – animal bones and poo, stones, and flint. It is a business that continues today in a modern factory, making use of waste that demands disposal and turning it into valuable commodities. 

Generally, the bones used were animal bones, contacts with slaughter houses, and farmers being the main source, but just occasionally, the bone china of our great grandparents may have contained rarer, more exotic ingredients. There are tales of two elephants from travelling circuses, one named Jimona and one more prosaically called Nick, whose skeletons ended up creating elegant tableware after their untimely demises in Stoke-on-Trent. Circus owners were apparently grateful for a quick and easy way of disposing of their corpses. Allegedly some of Jimona’s giant bones (or models of them) adorn the walls of the Mill’s Pan Room where burnt, crushed bones (rarely elephant) combined with Cornish stone and flint, from Nothern France and Eastern England, were ground to slop with water from the canal. The slop was dried, and the resulting powder sold to the pottery and agricultural industries for blending with clay and using as fertiliser. We still use bonemeal in horticulture and agriculture today, as well as it being a fundamental element in bone china production. 

I cannot believe how many times over the years we have travelled this stretch of the Trent and Mersey, passing the Etruscan Bone and Flint Mill but never finding it open for us to call in an discover more. This week, we found out when it was open and retraced our steps to ensure we could visit. Now, this incredible place, run by volunteers, is trying to open every Friday, and this month, they will fire and operate the huge steam beam engine Princess for visitors on both October 19 and 20. Do visit if you can. The massive 1903 steam boiler (which was itself recycled as it used to heat the nearby Tunstall Swimming Baths) takes 5 days to warm up gradually to operating temperature, requiring hand-stoking all the way. 

The story this unique museum expounds of recycling, waste into wealth, discovery, manufacturing, engineering and now history and the passion of volunteers committed to keeping it working and available for us all to visit is nothing short of remarkable. So often we pass by places like this, missing what they have to tell and teach us. I never knew until this week that bones, stones, and poo made Stoke-on-Trent invaluable. It’s a lesson to never pass by, never ignore history, and never miss a chance of discovery.

Wonder what we’ll find next week as we continue a route we’ve travelled many, many times?

If you think it’s worth it – give it a go!

Well we made it – we scraped the profile gauge that was supposed to be the indicator of whether we would get through the lowest openly navigable tunnel on the inland waterway network, but thought it was worth a try.

Let’s try, there’s only our home and office to lose, and the chance to get to the end is too enticing

If you think it’s worth it – give it a go – seems a worthy mantra for most things.

Froghall Tunnel has a reputation for leaving boats (and their crews) battered and dejected, scraped and defeated. It’s only 75m long but what a breath-holding, knuckle-scraping length that is. It is also approached and exited on irritating bends which make it difficult to line up to get a straight entry and easy exit.

It has loomed over (if a tunnel can do that) us for the past few years, acquiring as the unknown tends to do, a fearsome hold on our minds. Every boat we hear that hasn’t made it is another alarm (is that boat similar to ours? will we? Won’t we? Should we? will we get in and get stuck?)

Then there are the boating colleague we hear who have made it through (often with a few scrapes) and delighted in the calm of Uttoxeter Basin beyond. We recalled their boats, studied photos of them on social media and tried in vain to compare with our own but it honestly was a fool’s game.

Turning from the Leek branch to mainline

We originally thought to leave the Leek Branch of the Caldon Canal and make it to the tunnel on the ‘main line’ in two gentle days but once underway it seemed to get increasingly urgent to get there and see if we would fit through. We left the Leek dead end through the Leek Tunnel, helped an Anglo Welsh hire boat which had been trying to get past a fallen tree and got stuck in silt, then got stuck ourselves for a bit, before chugging on and turning at Hazlehurst Junction onto the ‘main line’ (which is just another branch now).

From there we dropped down onto the River Churnet for about a mile (this time whilst doing the lock onto the river I sent a photo of the river flow indicator board to the Skipper to ask if he was happy it was in the green. That’s after I mistook weed on the a river Aire board for a green indicator and we ended up accidentally travelling rather rapidly up it in flood…). I was surprised it wasn’t in flood after the weekend’s horrendous downpours but it wasn’t.





The only way to really know if we could get our boat through this tunnel was to try it. We began planning (stupid not to really) at the last waterpoint before the tunnel, at Consall. We filled the water tank in the bow with as much water as it would take, to weigh the boat down and sit her as low in the water as possible. Then we took everything off the roof, the plants, the boxes, the gangplanks, the rake and brushes, the boat scraper winter step that gets us through the winter (and autumn) mud, and we lowered the solar panels flat to the roof. We also took off our canvas cratch cover and folded it inside the boat. The highest part of the boat by the time we’d done all of this was the tiller pin… so Jemima was carefully removed, to be replaced with a totally flat cable tie to ensure the tiller doesn’t slide or get bashed off the swan neck that connects to the rudder which gives us direction.



After that started the Tetris-like game of trying to find spaces somewhere inside for everything we had just removed from the roof. Eventually everything was fitted somewhere, albeit a bit chaotically, and we set off again just as the drizzle started.



The section between Consall and Froghall Tunnel has some highlights – firstly the platform and waiting room for the Churnet Valley Steam Railway overhangs the canal because the two are so close together, and then the canal is incredible narrow and shallow in places, meaning going is slow and heaven help you if you meet another boat! So there were a few distractions, but the tunnel was looming large (actually small and narrow) in our thoughts as it approached.


You come at it from a bend and through the brambles and greenery at the entrance it is actually difficult to see it clearly, and to line up effectively for it but suddenly, there it was and there we were, edging towards this low dark space.



OK so it is short this tunnel and you can see the end from the beginning which helps but it is INCREDIBLY low. So low that I filmed going through from below the roof with my phone just peeking up and the highest part of the boat turned out uncomfortably to be the Skipper’s knuckles resting on the tiller. We edged in and bent double – steering and filming from the most contorted positions.

Not much room in here…

It wasn’t until we emerged blinking that we realised we’d probably been holding our breath for most of the journey through.

Once out in the sunlight, and straightening ourselves as well as the boat out, we cruised on to Lock 1 of the Uttoxeter Canal that now leads down just into the Uttoxeter Basin. It offered a totally deserted choice of mooring pontoons alongside what the Canal and River Trust online map assured us was a full set of services – Elsan, rubbish and water points.



We’d already been to a marked rubbish point at Consall when we were sorting the boat, only to find the bins marked as pub only, no boater waste, so we’d had to wedge the rubbish bag back in with everything else. I was thrilled to get to Froghall and begin clearing out but no – more bins marked as not for boater waste. A lovely lady cleaning toilets which turned out to be council provided pointed us to a waste bin beside the road, so thank goodness we’re pretty sustainable in terms of waste!



It was clear there was a CRT rubbish bin sign by the bins we weren’t supposed to use, so I photographed it and contacted CRT to ask just where we were supposed to put our waste, and if they knew boaters were unable to dispose of rubbish at either Consall or Froghall as marked. The reply was astonishing – these facilities closed in 2020! You’d have thought they might have updated the map in the ensuing FOUR YEARS! It literally stinks though because as continuous cruisers our the licence we pay to CRT for using the canals, facilities and being able to trade from the boat has doubled for us over the past 4 years. It appears the facilities are shrinking and this could have alarming environmental consequences for the environment we value so much  around our canals.



So it is a lovely place here in this basin at Froghall, worthwhile getting to particularly with the excitement of the tunnel, but without facilities, we can’t stay for too long.



The one major excitement we have discovered, which we weren’t expecting, is The Railway Inn. If you’re in the area don’t miss it. A family run pub with excellent local ales, home-cooked food, and a warm welcome for all of us, including unlimited dog treats! One of the family even refused to hear of us getting a bus to fetch our car and drove us back to Leek! Such kindness keeps us afloat and makes us want to pass it on in any way we can.


So next week, we’ll have another go at that tunnel – we just need to recover from our first attempt and play Tetris with everything before trying again! Then it’s back down the Caldon, along the Trent & Mersey, hopefully over the River Trent (flooding permitting) and an attempt to complete our voyage along the Erewash Canal which Covid so dramatically stopped some years ago. After that, I’m really really hoping for a winter cruising schedule unlike any other we’ve ever tried – more on this anon.

New waters and nerve-wracking decisions

A change of scene does us all good, as boaters know only too well.

James Brindley welcoming us at the start of the Caldon

This week we’ve begun exploring the Caldon, somewhere we’ve wanted to travel for the past five years. Problems with locks and water levels have stopped us until now, but now we are here. The Canal takes off from the Trent & Mersey Canal in the heart of the Potteries at Stoke-on-Trent. From there it wends its way through industry, housing, Edwardian parks with 21st century mugas (multi use games areas), through deeply wooden glades to the foot of the sweeping hills that crown the Staffordshire Moorlands.


The skipper has classed it “Llangollen without all the boats” as the ‘Golly’ attracts boaters in their hoardes. I have no idea why the Caldon doesn’t do the same. It is beautiful, peaceful, and offers its own breathtaking challenges, even if not a world-class towering aqueduct.

Winding through the Churnet Valley, the canal becomes two-pronged. One branch winding its way to the creative market town of Leek known  well by William Morris; the other, mainline, working its way to Froghall. The Leek branch was built to bring water to the rest of the canal, and the entire waterway was built to transport ironstone and limestone. Both were used in making ceramics.

This is a waterway which like so many in Britain today, we can only navigate and enjoy because of the incredible, unstinting work of thousands of volunteers. These are people with vision, with passion and determination.

The Leek Arm or Branch, which we are currently enjoying, was abandoned in 1944. In 1957, Leek Urban District Council bought it and filled in the section between the Churnet Aqueduct and Leek Basin. That land now houses part of an industrial estate.

In 1961, a formal notice of closure of the Canal was posted, and two years later, the Caldon Canal Committee was formed to campaign to keep it open. The individuals involved fought and worked hard, and in 1974, the waterway was officially reopened to navigation (although without the length that sits under the industrial estate).


So this year marks 50 years since the Caldon Canal reopened due to the efforts of so many people, and today  there is a major celebration event which we will be attending at the Stoke-on-Trent boat club at Endon on the canal itself. It is due to them that we along with kingfishers, green woodpeckers, moorhens, ducks, walkers, fishermen, runners, cyclists, and other boaters can enjoy this beautiful waterway. We want to support and salute their efforts by using the waterway, and joining in the celebrations.

That’s before we dash off, not by boat, to another great celebration of heritage boats, traders, and traditional music at Tipton on the BCN – the Birmingham Canal Navigation The Tipton Canal and Community Festival is another example of boaters and supporters of the network coming together to meet up and celebrate the privilege of living, workin,  and supporting the inland waterways. It promises to be a chance to meet up with great friends and enjoy some fun together.



As a drect result of the efforts of Staffordshire volunteers, there are now 20 navigable miles of the Caldon, 17 locks (one a staircase), 3 lift bridges, and 2 tunnels. The Leek Tunnel often puts people off because they’re unsure if they can turn after it, but there is a winding hole before the final end of the navigation, where we turned happily in and then we reversed up towards the end.

Next week, we will make it along the second arm of the canal towards Froghall, and that is going to be a heart-stopping experience. Heaven knows if we will be as fortunate to have such an easy passage.  Froghall Tunnel is LOW… very low.

Will we make it without wrecking our home or getting stuck?

Before it, there is a gauge that is supposed to tell you if you can make it through the tunnel or not. People say (alarming phrase really…) that it’s pessimistic by several inches so the advice is if you look close, give it a go as there’s a beautiful wharf with great mooring beyond, close to a wonderful tearoom. Some hire boat companies refuse to allow their boats to try Froghall in an attempt to reduce damage – to the boats and the tunnel.


We’ve seen 4 different dimensions of clearance for Froghall… and we’ve had friends who have made it and friends who have not. We aim to check in at the gauge, fill with water to get us as low as we can be, remove our cratch cover, and hope we can inch our way through the tunnel. I think this will be one for the skipper to take the tiller on!



Will we make it? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. We will try, and next week, you can find out how we did (unless, of course, we are still wedged in there without an internet connection)!