Monday 24th September 2007
Shouting and waving our goodbyes to Elsie and Eric on Bendigedig (no sign of them so they must still be in bed) we slipped out into the main stream in the direction of Fazeley on the Coventry Canal, south of Streethay Wharf.

Following a dawdler we eventually got waved on at the approach to a bridge. Slipping into gear I discovered we were going backwards. I could change prop speed but not direction so it was time to leave the boat race and jump into the engine room. Cable dropped off the gear linkage, may be something to do with my lubrication schedule back in Fradley, hmmmm.

He hadn’t gone far and we passed the slow boat before the second bridge.

Plenty of fun at Glascote locks, the first one leaked so badly that it was taking 17 minutes to fill each lock.

We ran a book on it and we came joint second with 14 minutes. With only two passages an hour each way it was inevitable that boats would bunch up each side of the lock and it came as no surprise when Molly May 2 (Pete and Pat) caught us up.

Not a long cruise by any means, we decided to keep Atherstone locks for another day and in company with others we’d met at Glascote we settled down for the night.

Tuesday 25th
Still on the Coventry Canal getting ready to leave the bank we were hailed by a fella standing in the bow of nb.Andrew. Read yer blog, he said. Right, you get a mention. Had I been quicker we would have had a picture to show.

Up through Atherstone locks we had an easy climb with enough boats coming t’other way to ease lock work. An unhurried shop in Atherstone, buying the remaining bits for our dry dock next week, we sat at tables in the mushy peas and chips diner. Who says I’m too tight to eat out.

Wed 26th
Boy was it cold today. Had every conceivable layer of clothing on and I still couldn’t get warm.
There was nothing much to brighten the day until we reached Charity Dock where we were greeted by a junk yard feast, not without its humour, sporting a Wonder Woman, Bedworth style.

Turning left at Hawkesbury Junction, onto the Oxford Canal, we picked up a loaded coal boat drifting on the canal current, and you know how slow that is, because his prop was digging up and hanging onto everything from the mud below. Mile after mile we tailed him until we were joined by another at which point he pulled over and let us pass. That gave us an incentive to keep going and put as much distance between him and us as possible.

Later, in Rugby, after we’d shopped and eaten and it was getting dark, he passed us. Chug, chugging into the night he would be waiting, somewhere in front of us tomorrow, I just knew it.

Thurs 27th
Out of Rugby we joined the boat race on another cold, grey, windy day and I set my slitty eyes towards Hillmorton locks. Cold wind in the face makes my eyes run and I get funny looks from walkers who assume I’m upset because we’ve had a barny. There’s nothing for it but to let my eyes stream and wear a waterproof top to keep clothes dry.

Twin locks at Hillmorton made the job easier and we got through in no time. Saw some funny manoeuvres as a hire boat coming downhill was blown into the boatyard while they waited for their lock to fill. Didn’t laugh and the ice on my face stopped me smiling.

Found our coal boat serving his customers, but my “Oh no” soon became an “Oh yes” as we squeezed past and beat him to Braunston.

Shared Braunston locks with a couple on Lilazan or something like that. She steered and we nattered like mad to the annoyance of lock gate pushers. Well, there’s lots to share when you only get a few minutes side by side in the locks. Noticed the top lock cottage is still for sale. She looks a proper picture all painted and gardens in excellent shape.

We parted company with Lilazan after Braunston tunnel, just north of Norton Junction, but there was so much more to discuss!!

We knew it was time to moor up when we heard the M1 buzzing in the distance.

Friday 28th
Leaving our little haven near Welford we hit the Watford Locks about mid morning, (in the dry) and were safely through Crick’s tunnel (soaking wet) and parked up outside the marina just as the drizzle descended.
Plenty of mooring on the towpath, permit holders aren’t due in until the 1st October.
But rattle – rattle, clang – clang, there’s heavy machinery on the showground side of the canal as the dirt is dug for the new marina extension.

The weather couldn’t be trusted so we kept our heads inside, wrote letters and fiddled with the fire.
We weren’t the only ones in the wet, England played Tonga in the rain AND WON AGAIN.

“Rain on our heads, floods at our feet, perfect for rugby, we can not be beat”.

Sat 29th
Time to move out into the countryside again. Passing the destruction work for the new marina we couldn’t help wondering how this could affect the tranquillity of the Leicester Line.

The farmer was out in his field doing aeroplane impressions as he swept downhill, huge arms out to the side, dragging a nasty looking orange cloud behind him. Don’t think we’ll stop here, thank you.

Under bridge 20 we spied empty piling where we usually see a cluster of old timers putting roots down into the canal bed.

Spotted a lonely nasturtium flower in the nettles under the hedge but as I cleared the weeds around it with my shears I accidentally clipped the stalk and now we’ll have to wait till next summer to see it again. That’ll teach me to leave things alone.

It’s a bit busy today with hire boats scampering off here and there and the odd Kennet and Avon boat heading south before the glaciers return for the winter.

Split the remains of last winter’s logs that I found in the cratch and stoked the fire ready for a cold night. Passing liveaboards are stacking fuel on the roof ready for this winter that comes hard on the heels of the hottest summer of all time, sorry, I was reading January’s long term weather forecast by mistake.

Hadn’t been settled half a day when we had a call from Spanish John and Jean – heading up the M1 and joining us for the evening. Bearing gifts they arrived and swapped news (in English) of their place in the sun while I tried out the new fishing rod, spinning for pike in the fading light.

Sunday 30th September 2007

Someone went to buy papers and bread at an unearthly hour this morning (6am?) which meant an earlier start than usual for me. But can’t complain because we still had cooked breakfast - yummy.

J and J rolled up their beds and headed back south as the fire coals cooled, one staying UK and one returning to the hot sandy deserts (with fish and chips in News of the World and Watneys Red Barrel?).

It just might be an oil change day today, depends if the yellow thing stays out long enough. I’m not going down the engine hole if there’s a risk of rain, thank you very much.

There’s no real rush, we’re on course for our dry dock next weekend at Debdale and that’s an easy two days away from here. There should still be enough time to shop in Harbro’ and stock up before our helpers arrive (Mike and Roger). Our thoughts go out to Mike’s other half as she faces a visit to hospital tomorrow. Any excuse to put your feet up, Pat.

Saturday 15th Sept, 2007 - Audlem
Moored opposite the Shoppie Fly we popped our heads out in time to catch sight of the new No Problem arriving in town.
Haven’t seen Sue and Vic for months so we got them aboard and caught up on all the latest boat news and checked out the new signwriting, new cratch cover and new gimmicks.

More visitors, Tezzer and Claire (family) arrived early afternoon to stay the night. Brought mail, news and goodies to share, thanks you two.

Sunday 16th Sept
Found a broken mobile phone on the tow path close to the Bridge Inn. Got it going, sort of, and waited. It wasn’t long before the owner called saying “You’ve got my phone!” Collecting it later he gave us the story but the question remains, why would a taxi driver throw a punter’s phone at the canal?
A relieved Simon with his mobile phone.

Sue and Vic continued on their way to Nantwich and Tez and Claire helped us up through the remaining locks to higher ground before heading off for home.

Near the top we met Chas and Ann on Moore2Life and stopped for a cuppa before moving on up the hill while the weather held.

Ann helped with the last two locks while I steered and chucked sticks for an overactive Molly who never seems to get tired.

It rained in the night which was a blessing. The rain dissolved the tree sap on the roof and the paintwork looked fresh again next morning.

Monday 17th
A short run to Market Drayton and a walk to the shops. Took the canal book’s advice on the route there and used the GPS to find our way back. There were a few pauses at road junctions while I summoned the satellites but we found it more reliable following our noses back to the boat. There’s a ‘new’ program to load when I get a few minutes and that should put an end to the CoPilot problems.

Spotted nb.Stella with its fresh green paintwork and number 515868. New boats must be into the 5160’s by now but there don’t seem to be any in these parts.

Arriving at a rock cutting we were gob-smacked at the peace and beauty of the place.

Chas had mentioned it yesterday and I could see why he liked it. Little gems like this pop up from time to time and it puts both icing and a cherry on the canal exploration cake.
Further on the cutting turned into a deep ravine with sides of mud and rock where notices warned of the dangers of driving too fast.

Later on we added to the environment’s sensory delights by lighting a fire and burning unsustainable carbon fuel and valuable English oak. The warm cosy glow of the stove soothed our eco consciences.

Noticeably fewer boats about now that the summer holidays are over and the weather has turned wet. Lovely rain.

Tuesday 18th
The fire coals were still glowing this morning so added a couple of lumps (naming them Jim and John – just for Mike and Pat) and noticed the smoke went higher than usual thanks to Roger’s roman centurion chimney hat. We had a few comments about this and boat hirers pointed to it as they passed but I didn’t catch what they said so guess they were jealous.

Wished we hadn’t filled with diesel at Middlewich because we’ve passed three pumps on the Shroppie selling ‘red’ at under 45p/litre.

Reaching the old chocolate factory we were a little disappointed to find the place had been cleaned out, not a single piece left, hardly a wrapper to be seen. A couple of old working boats were queuing and we thought of waiting our turn under the chocolate bar chute but time was not on our side.

Not sure what’s going on here but these dummies seem to have been evicted from the house. Probably something to do with the new regulations cos she’s smoking a clay pipe.

Might have been the height going to my head but it was tempting to sing “I’m the king of the castle and you’re the dirty rascal” to the motorists below on the A5 as we crossed the aqueduct.

Wed 19th
This is our last day on the Shropshire Union Canal for we shall shortly be arriving at Autherley stop lock and turning left up the Staffs and Worcester Canal.
Rain plopped on us from time to time, it looked like being a dull day from the start. But to brighten things up we caught up Molly May2 just past the first bridge, unbeknown to us we’d stopped a few hundred yards short of proper moorings.

Out of the Shroppie we gaily headed off through the rocky pinch on the outskirts of Wolverhampton, happily meeting no one on this single width stretch of canal.

We passed an interesting factory on the way. It used to manufacture lamp blacking but this week’s pongs were reminiscent of carbolic soap, wood preserver and gents loo disinfectant.

Gailey Wharf came and went, its round look out tower (toll keeper house) now a shop, adding to the interest of the lock side.

Must have been a dangerous job collecting tolls if they have to have castellated walls.

We almost did another boat fire reporting job at Penkridge, but the evidence had gone and all that remained was police tape for sealing off the area.

With all the excitement and seven hours standing at the tiller I’m afraid the day had taken its toll and the ‘Closed’ sign on my eyelids went up at 9.30pm.

Thursday 20th
A new day, a new adventure and Acton Trussell appeared around the corner. A smart hotel-type place came and went (I wish they’d put signs up on the canal side of the building as well as on the road side) with guests still chomping on the toast and marmalade.

Should have stopped longer at Deptmore lock because the way the lady asked about Balmaha’s name and the building’s clues to a rich and interesting past shouted “stay and talk”.
I guess there’s much to learn within these walls.

Talking of names, in the East Midlands we have no end of puzzled looks when walkers spot our boat but ever since we crossed to the west we daily meet those in the know, mostly Scots of course, who link Balmaha with Loch Lomond. Most of them know the town so well that they recall names of local hotels and guest houses that cater for walkers on the West Highland Way.

Sometimes it’s easier to skip the full story on our links to Loch Lomond but for those who haven’t fallen asleep by this time I sometimes describe our travels on the Pass of Balmaha, an orange painted chemical tanker, that plied the shores of Britain and the Continent with cargoes of liquid nasties. Ahhh, but those were the days, fond memories of bouncing up and down in force nines around Land’s End and sleepy cruises along the Manchester Ship Canal.
Children put paid to that. Thank you K and D, you know who you are. On the other hand you probably saved my life or at least my liver.

Once we’d reached Tixall Wide we knew we were near the end of our cruise.

This was obviously a favourite spot for social boaters, groups stood around nattering, fold up furniture cluttered the tow path and women’s faces peered at us from side doors. Moving over to the other side of the lake I gave it some welly and wobbled the reeds just for the fun of it.

At Great Haywood we left the Staffs and Worcs and turned right onto the Trent & Mersey.

Eye-Spied boat number 515939 near Shugborough.

We stopped at Rugeley for edibles and bits for our bottom blacking (that’s not rude, alright). We’d just got up steam again when we saw Mike’s face on Snecklifter. Mike just happened to be hanging out as we passed and there was no time to do anything more than shout and snap a picky.

I’ve often wondered if we’d ever meet some of the more famous names on the cut because we don’t cruise the popular canals often enough. This is probably a ‘9’ in the boat Eye-Spy book because residents were caught on the premises.

King’s Bromley were privileged to have us over night. As darkness descended owls tried keeping us awake with their breakfast requests while late cruisers sent us to sleep by rocking the boat as they hammered past.

Friday 21st Sept
Up early we hit the locks at the same time as boats coming up from Fradley Junction. It wasn’t a fast passage down the three locks to the Coventry Canal but we weren’t going far enough to worry about it. Round the corner (… whoopee - a 1950’s song wasn’t it?) and we pulled out of the race onto the 48 hour moorings. Soogi’d down the decks, polished brass and had time to relax.

This was our week for meeting boaters, by lunch time we’d been hailed by Dave and Dil onboard Trundle. These guys come from Raynsway, north of Leicester and keep a really friendly marina. We’ve stopped there many times.
By 7.30 we had Chris and Stelle from Belle onboard for a natter around a few glasses of Rioja.
I’m afraid it was a late night but at least the canal was quiet when we hit the sack.

Sat 22nd Sept
Another easy day, we wander slowly down to Streethay Wharf. Went so slow through the clutter of boats I almost moored up amongst them.
Several minutes later we emerged the other side and we didn’t stop until the A38 was down to tolerable noise levels. Here we shall rest and catch up on letter writing, small repairs and maybe chop wood for the winter. Cousin Roger on nb.Megan called for a chat and there’s a thought now that we might join them on the trip down the Oxford next March and help dredge the Basingstoke Canal as far as Bridge Barn. I say dredge but it’s more like push the mud to the sides so that we can attend the rally.
Anyway, it’s a thought, it means buying a Gold Licence next year but it could tie in with an itch to revisit the Thames, cruise the K&A and give us an excuse to return to EA waters. We shall wait and see.

Sunday 23rd September 2007 – Day of Rest
Thought we might see Elsie and Eric on Bendigedig but after twenty or so boats had come through from Atherstone it dawned on us they may have turned left down the Birmingham and Fazeley Canal.

But needn’t have worried, they’re just late starters, by midday there was a shout and we were getting to know the Bendigedig boaters.

A tour of the boats and a natter followed. Super people from over the water from where we used to live in Bristol.

Eye-Spied boat number 515981. Sorry but it’s my hobby.

Sundays are always more interesting than weekdays, boat traffic goes crazy and the skies fill with flying things. Today’s object was an autogyro that raced across the field next to us, scaring the horses, and took off into the skies. Worth a mention because you don’t see many of those. Someone said they were dangerous but it looks like a lot of fun to me.

Monday 10th September 2007 – At Anderton Lift

Visitors from up norf.
Mike and Pat (remember Hyperion?) made a special trip down country to deliver my birthday cake (ahhhhh) and their new dog Tilly the Chihuahua for starters. So small it would have fallen through the barbeque grill so we let it live, to eat another day.

Yes, yes, it’s well past my birthday but the cake was promised when we’d planned to be up the Trent in Skipton and a whole lot closer to M&P’s house. What with the floods and a swollen river Trent we didn’t go up the east coast after all but played safe on the canals and this is the closest we will get to see them.
Created in a tasteful (accidental pun) two layer sponge with icing to match Balmaha’s colouring and fancy work on the bow it was a work of art. My only complaint is that the cake wasn’t 60 feet long.

Mike brought lots of odds and ends, useful boaty things like a plug-in mozzy zapper and a fold-up spade. The spade comes in a carrying pouch that goes on my trouser belt so no one need know what I’ve been doing on the tow path. I’m just looking for a way to disguise the boater’s briefcase (Thetford cassette) so I can do the business and call in the pub on the way back.

The afternoon’s obligatory walk took us down to the river Weaver and back through the nature park and if I’d known how strong Pat’s dogs were I’d have taken all three leads on the way back up the hill.
I can see now why people have dogs, it’s a whole lot easier going for walks with a four-wheel-drive pooch pulling your arm off.

Fun over we parted company (sigh) and floated downhill to the woods between bridges 177 and 176 for the night.

Tues 11th
Our feet have been up for too many days and it’s hard getting out of bed but thanks to two hire boats that thundered past in the eraly hours we’re up and at our brekkies by 8 o’clock. A mysterious mist drifted up the canal as we continued south but before long we were out of the trees and back into fields on the approach to Middlewich.
Through the “Big Lock”, wondering what’s so special about this to warrant a pub with the same name, and down to the park in town.

A short run (on foot) to the Post Office, then across to the bakers for the last meat and veg pie on the shelf and then down to Kings Lock Chandlers finishing off the pie as we went. A quick shop at the Tesco Express (a bit casual in here) and back to the canal.

On the way we bumped into nb.Quidditch and asked them if they blogged with the same name. After some hesitation the answer came back, no, but they were the original Quidditch even though they weren’t so well known. I guess they’re fed up being asked the same question over and over again.

Back onboard we turned right into the lock at the junction with the Shroppie and encountered Kiwis coming out (there’s a lot about this year, is there a special deal on for 2007?) and we entered the Wardle Canal, the shortest canal in England, says the sign on the bridge.
V met Mrs lock keeper and the BW blue-shirt fella before I got in there, and reported later (out of earshot) that she’d found her to be a lovely lady, very knowledgable.
Pleased to be on the Shropshire Union (the Middlewich Branch) we were glad to be back in the countryside. Smashing views from time to time and little bunches of boats gathered round them. We settled for an empty straight bit with the Weaver valley and the village of Church Minshull on our right and a breeze stiff enough to keep a hang glider happy. Breeze or no breeze the Barbie came out and added the distinctive flavour of burning sausages to the less sophisticated countryside smells.

Wed 12th
It’s a promising day with the occasional glimpse of yellow in the sky and the merest hint of a breeze. We trundled on towards the junction with the Shroppie proper, passing a sight you don’t often see, in fact I can’t remember the last time I saw this. It’s a pylon (a tower if you work in the industry) on a straight section of overhead transmission line doing a job it wasn’t designed for. I wonder if this is down to salt mine settlement, it certainly wasn’t a windy day.

Turning left at the Shroppie we almost joined the queue for the Llangollen, such was the demand for the first lock on this the flight.

Moving on, we crossed beautiful countryside with hardly a soul to be seen. Into and out of Nantwich with hardly a mooring space to be seen, through a linear leisure area (Coole Pilate, yes, I’ve spelt that right) with its bench seats and individual barbeques, mowed grass and not a drop of litter to be seen.

There on the approaches to Audlem locks we spotted nb.Wild Thyme, first encountered on the Upper Peak Forest and last seen at Anderton. We exchanged greetings and asked them why they were following us before we climbed the first three locks into town. A space opposite the Shroppie Fly was too tempting and we ground to a halt on the steel piling. It turned out to be a superb day weather wise and we wandered up the town before returning to test the ale.
The sign outside the Shroppie announced a live band but we couldn’t make that 100yds or so and settled for listening to an excellent blues band from the boat until we fell asleep.

Thursday 13th
Still at Audlem, we made a dent in the list of boat jobs. Portholes were sanded and varnished, chimney checked, repaired and painted ready for winter.
The opportunities for washing the outside and slapping on polish are few, very few these days. It’s either too hot (I can remember one day like this), or it’s too damp, or we’re low on water, or we’re under a tree that drops sticky stuff and greenfly. Half the roof has taken 4 weeks to do.

Taking advice from better boaters than me I intended buying an after-polish polish, anti UV stuff that claims to protect the polish and stop paint fading. But while I was looking at the tins on the chandler’s shelves in Stone the lady convinced me I should buy a PTFE polish that works wonders. She said she had a customer in Ireland who rings up every few weeks and orders another half a dozen bottles because it’s so good.
She convinced me and I parted with £18 but it wasn’t until we were well out of the area that I realised what I’d done. First of all she claimed it was an Irishman and they can tell some stories, secondly why was he buying so many bottles if the stuff worked? He’d only have to buy one if it was so marvellous wouldn’t he? Am I stupid or what?

Friday 14th September 2007
Still at Audlem.
Checked email and oh goody, No Problem and Moore 2Life aren’t far away. We should be passing them in a few days and it will be good to see Sue and Vic, Chas and Anne and catch up on all the news.

Here’s another boat we bump into from time to time.

We shared Foxton Locks’ protests with nb.Molly May 2 last November and appeared in one of the waterways magazines with them thanks to Andrew Denny on nb.Granny Buttons. We’ll be on their tail next week all the way back to Leicestershire and likely meet up again at Debdale Wharf when we come out of the water for hull blacking.

Pretty good weather today but I’m using the sticky tree excuse for not cleaning the boat.
It’s live music tonight at the Shroppie and we’ve no idea what genre. Tomorrow will be another bash until 11.30pm and we shall have Tezzer and Claire with us to savour that one.

Meanwhile we’ve booked seats in front of the tele for the England v South Africa match. It promises to be an interesting game.

Later… the less said about the Rugby the better.

Monday 3rd September 2007 – Trent & Mersey Canal, Wedgwood factory.
Up early and left Wedgwood at 8am. Through Stoke like a rat up a drain pipe and into Harecastle Tunnel. 2926 yards in the dark, under Harecastle Hill, and wasn’t it cold in there. Wind against us and a snail in front, we barely managed to get through in 36 minutes. Might be a record (for the longest transit).

Passing under the Macc’ we started down Heartbreak Hill, under the A50, past Church Lawton and pulled in to the side on rings, nice. We were whacked as it had been a long day but it was very satisfying getting well clear of Stoke and the worst locks on H-H.

Tested newly downloaded software for the XDA’s GPS and it worked perfectly. No need for that phone call after all.

Tuesday 4th to Thursday 6th
Quit Church Lawton in favour of Paddy’s Wood. We covered 20 locks and 6 miles in 4 hours and rewarded ourselves with a few days off for boaty type jobs. Bit quiet in these parts, no complaints, but had expected more than the few we saw. One benefit was clearer water and seeing the fish nibbling the weed off the boat. Talking of fishing, this chap must have been asleep because the fish was fed up with waiting and had jumped out of the canal onto the lawn.

It was lovely to see BW cutting the trees back on our way through and I swear I saw autumn kick in as trees turned red and gold when we passed them.

Crossing the M6 brought back horrid memories of journeys from the south coast to Manchester and seeing three trucks for every car made me realise just how fortunate we are on the water.

We celebrated our glimpse of the sun by sacrificing burgers on the barbeque. If we waited for summer weather we’d never get another Barbie in before the end of the season. There’s definitely a pattern to the weather, the nights have clear skies and the cloud arrives about 9am, staying until 9pm when the sky clears again. It happens so regularly that I’m setting the ships clock to it.
Cloud gone? Must be bedtime.
Foxes are barking mad and owls are screaming their heads off, must be Spring.

Friday 7th
Cool overcast day to start with. Left Paddy’s Wood, bound Middlewich. Kept having to go below to put on another jacket, just couldn’t get warm. Must have looked funny to the hire boat crews who wore T shirt and shorts but I was chilled to the bone.
As if that wasn’t enough something started me off on a sneezing bout. Contractors cutting grass around lock 68 didn’t help either.
But who should be coming up through lock 69 - Maureen on Madasa-soles, snapping away with her camera. Showed us a lovely picture of a kingfisher. The things you can do with a telephoto lens. Ooooh I feel a purchase coming on.

Kings Lock Chandlery – dashed in to buy red oxide and canvas clips. Smell from the chippy across the road was almost too much to resist but we’re off again. Down through the lock for water right next to the left turn into the Shropshire Union Canal. Made a note - we’ll be back to check this out in a few days time.

Middlewich stop to shop. Wandered up to the shops and couldn’t get any guidance on the sat nav’ for the supermarkets. V’s instincts took us straight to Somerfield and we were soon back onboard and on our way.

Astounded to find floating pennywort up here on the Trent and Mersey, thought it only grew on rivers but here it is between bridges 175 and 176 alive and well, three clumps which spells doom for this canal if it spreads.

Passed some serious salt works. Thought it had been snowing but these are salt dunes.

Moored in the woods, high above the river Dane down there in its steep sided valley. Spade got used tonight but it has seen its best days. 18 months for £4,99 isn’t bad I thought.

Fixed canvas splashback on stern and dropped one of my new clips in the canal. Will it respond to the magnet? No it won’t. Flippin’ stainless steel.

BBQ on the stern, it was still warm enough but as usual, no sign of sun – could this be our last one of 2007?
France lost to Argentina, serves ‘em right for selling them Exocet missiles.

Saturday 8th
Cruising above caves today. Salt mines lurk a few feet below us and occasionally the ground plummets into the void and someone has to add a few feet of concrete to the canal bank edges to stop the water getting away. Don’t know what happens to boats that disappear into the salt mines, no one is talking about it so it must be pretty serious. V tells me we pass a secret WW2 underground bunker next week. Not supposed to talk about that either.

We found a boat that didn’t quite disappear into the mines. Lucky escape for someone I reckon.
They call these lakes flashes. The ground sinks in a flash. There’ll be no stopping here tonight.

I thought the funny accent up here was our proximity to Liverpool but maybe it’s Russian, workers from the salt mines.
They try to take your mind off it by pointing out a new nature reserve and it certainly makes a pleasant change from the undulating scrub land that borders the canal. But old factories with leaning chimneys tell us we’re not out of the woods yet.

But morbid thoughts evaporate as we approach the Anderton Lift. A wonderful invention built to drop boats slowly into the salt mines using hydraulics. Hydraulics were replaced by sensible electrics and now that has been replaced by hydraulics because that’s even better (uhhh?).

Enough for one day, we shall sleep and visit it tomorrow, if we’re still here.

England only just beat the USA by loads of points which didn’t satisfy the Rugby commentators.

Sunday 9th September 2007
The sun was already shining as we arose. It delayed its departure until 11am, hooray, we’re making progress.
It was thought too dangerous to take our boat down the lift to the river Weaver. Not especially dangerous using the lift but in danger of losing our mooring space, so we walked and sat and waited.
Doing the display area and café and gift shop and control room and observation area and gift shop again we amused ourselves for an hour.

The trip boat can’t be rushed so after boarding her we waited some more and eventually floated into the lift’s iron innards which took forever and then at a blink of the eye we were down fifty feet four inches and out in six minutes. That’s a pound a minute.
The guy who counted us in, waggled the steering wheel and did a dozen other jobs was excellent with his talk. What he didn’t know wasn’t worth hearing. It was a bit tense watching him though, every time he bent forward the microphone cut out and we saw his lips move but no sound came out. So we willed him to stand up straight as he pattered out the amazing facts to do with building and repairing and re-repairing the Anderton Lift. Something cost two and sixpence in 1908 but he leant forward and I missed it.

Would I do it again? Yes of course, but next time I’d sit in the front seats so I don’t miss anything.

Was it impressive? Yes, of course, though not as big as I thought it was going to be, the pictures in magazines seem to give the wrong impression, but it is a feat of engineering and worth a visit.

Down on the Weaver I was heartened to see huge clumps of Floating Pennywort, the largest dollop was right opposite BW’s marquee at the bottom of the lift. No one cares so why should I?

An icecream at the boatyard and a quick check of second hand boat prices for Pam and Terry saw us back at the boat by early afternoon just in time for the new Alvechurch boat hirers to come round the corner.
One made us laugh, sorry smile, as they hit the bank on the corner and got hooted at by an old timer going the opposite way. Taking that as the norm they hooted at every corner from then on, thinking it was the thing to do. Doing their best to miss us the girls were sent scampering inside as the bow buried itself in the trees. Conkers rained down and ducks scattered and reverse gear sent a wave of water across to us. I joined them in laughter and wished them well as they shot off towards the next corner, making a note to be out of here by next weekend.

Tomorrow we hope to see Mike and Pat. These lovely people (ex nb.Hyperion) are travelling down from the far distant north, we haven’t seen them for ages and there will be loads to catch up on.

Sunday 26th August to Sunday 2nd September 2007

Bugsworth Basin
This is week two of Kass and Maisy’s holiday with us on the Upper Peak Forest and Macclesfield Canals.
Bugsworth’s 48 hour limit is strictly observed on this Bank Holiday, a prominent BW presence takes boat names and numbers which prompts us to leave today.
Overstayers are charged £10/day and non payers are refused their next boat licence until debts are settled. Illegal parking just isn’t fun any more.

Anyway we plodded back down the UPF, bouncing off submerged canal bank edge stones all the way. It’s a little embarrassing passing boats on narrow stretches because both boats tilt alarmingly as they catch on underwater obstructions and almost touch handrails until a breath catching minute later they wiggle their back ends and sink back into the water, parting the best of friends.
At least the steerers are all smiles, their partners inside might not feel the same as they clear up books and ornaments that tumbled from the shelves.

The sweet factory (Matlows) was closed for the weekend but the smells were still there, ummmmmm, 200 yards of Swizzles smells, makes your mouth water.

Chris Wells wasn’t exaggerating in his Blog when he spoke of overgrown bushes and trees and nowhere to moor on the Peak. There were two spots worth having but you have to get your name down for these at least a year ahead of your cruise.

Nevertheless, it’s a lovely trip up to Bugsworth and back with adorable wooded bits and lovely views across the valley but oh what a neglected canal. If the terminus wasn’t so well restored I would vow never to come here again.

Might have stopped overnight at Marple but its half a dozen spaces were all taken so we pushed on down the Macclesfield Canal.
Making the most of a wider canal we shot out into the countryside before pulling over for the night. As it got dark the furry monster awoke and after scoffing food from a bowl she stood by the door as if to say “Time for walkies”

Harness on, Maisy strutted her stuff up and down the roof, fascinated by the water and then down onto the tow path, brave as anything until a walker appeared on the horizon. Long before I heard shoes on gravel she was either half way up a tree or trying to force her way back through the air vents on the stern doors.
Has anyone had a cat that sleeps 23 hours a day and only goes out at night? Perhaps it is something to do with a red ‘neckerchief not being cool for cats of her age.

Bank Holiday Monday
Just like the M25 at 8 in the morning, everyone’s out for a cruise, doesn’t matter what they’re in, they pootle along smiling, waving beer glasses (not for long) while we take it in turns to smile, saying “Hello, lovely morning (it was sunny for a while), how do you do, have a lovely day, you all come back now (makes Americans feel at home), see you again at the next bridge-hole on a bend behind the overhanging trees”.

Someone was filming boats with his camcorder outside one of the old mills and it was difficult not to make faces so I didn’t resist the temptation.

Recognise that boat ahead? Yes, it’s Mike and Jo on Sarah-Kate. Nattered as you do until a queue threatened to form behind us and we scooted away leaving them heading north to the Upper Peak Forest. Jo’s a keen photographer so encouraged her to snap those mason’s marks in locks and under bridges. Found the ultimate mark which could be just 1829 vandalism in the name of Thomas Stallard (bridge 83 on the Macc’).

The Eye-Spy book came out today when I caught a glimpse of boat number 515787. Didn’t note the name, stupid boy.

When it comes to different boats and The Blues you can’t get much better than this one.
Just look at Muddy Waters’ windows. The interior was lovely in off-white with a very ‘clean’ look.

Not everyone’s cup of tea but I admire the individuality and I’m looking forward to the day when someone brings out a narrowboat shaped and painted like an old steam loco.

You just can’t trust some people on boats, there I was winding my token lock paddle when I was caught on camera.

It looks like I’m getting instruction, and well I might have been because it’s not often I get to pick up a ‘windy’.

Nearing the end of the day and the end of the Macc’ we had a funny five minutes. Putting some distance between us and the boat behind we shot into the side at Hall Green and grabbed water at the same time as preparing the lock. Keeping an eye on the horizon we willed the tank to fill faster until we couldn’t wait any longer. Almost too late we shoved off from the side and belted for the lock only to see him pull in and tie up a hundred yards away.

A needless hurry but sometimes the urge to grab a lock and a mooring the other side is too great and daft things happen.

We spent the night opposite the weir near the aqueduct at Red Bull Basin. The sound of running water all night did funny things to dreams and I got up twice more than normal.

This was the end of the Macclesfield, a non too reedy canal but terribly shallow most of the time. Light on hire boat traffic, the bridge holes are unusually well preserved, not so many of those corner bricks missing at roof height.

An early start saw us pass narrowboats Argy-Bargy and Flirty-Girty in the Basin before we joined the queue at Harecastle tunnel.

Water levels were low so it was easy to miss the roof this time, but not without its funny moments. We were almost through when reduced revs were called for at the ‘fan’ end. Squeaky tiller arm sounds behind us were followed by the crash of steel on stone as number six hit the wall, again and again. I didn’t laugh, been told before about doing that, but I did smile loudly. I’m sorry but things like that make me want to laugh. Too much nitrous when I was born I think.

Stoke came and went with an hour’s queue at the locks on the Caldon junction. Bunched up and eager to get going the men steerers joked about their ladies holding everyone up while they gossiped at the locks.
Kass got to take her turn holding the boat during lunch so being a hard sort of person I took her plate of sarnies out to her.

The run back down to Stone was uneventful under grey skies. Rain clouds circled most of the time and the cissies amongst us wore cagouls all day long.
Maisy made the most of her midnight walks and embarrassed me no end by racing off (still on her lead of course) and stopping outside every boat with a dog. What people thought as they looked out and saw K’s cat sniffing their portholes I can only imagine. She insists on stopping for five minutes at a time while she sniffs the ground, the air and animal deposits.

I wouldn’t have minded but Friday night in Stone was the pits. I just couldn’t get her to walk when I needed her to and a police car took an undeserved interest in me while I did my best to stifle walk-on commands. The police car with two lady drivers wouldn’t go away and as Maisy sauntered along the grass verge they crept along the road beside us. Just to prove to them I wasn’t loitering but performing innocent cat walking tasks I tried to pick her up to show them but got hissed at and threatened with two sets of claws. The police eventually got fed up and left and Maisy got bundled back onto the boat.

We shall miss our two passengers, the chatter, the laughs, their idiosyncrasies, their music tastes, their piles of stuff. Our little girl has almost disappeared inside this grown woman in her late somethings but the occasional nuance reminds us of a youngster we knew in the early eighties. It might be a look or a word, the competitive nature or a noo-noo. As noo-noos go this one doesn’t look too special but you should hear the fuss when it gets stretched or thrown or, as in this case, electrocuted on the mozzy zapper.

This brings us to yesterday, Saturday in Stone on the good ol’ Trent & Mersey Canal. In some ways it was nice to be back, it felt like home. But this is dangerous, we could be getting attached to the place and that wouldn’t do.
We wave goodbye to Kass and Maisy and clear off down to the water point. Yes, it was hair washing day and all 150 gallons of water had gone.

Back up to Roger Fuller’s yard we settled down next to the LED mooring rings (sheer luxury) and marvel at the sight of empty chairs and empty bathroom worktops. We caught ourselves calling the cat once or twice but otherwise all returned to normal. We slept well.

Sunday 2nd September 2007
A gentle wander north saw us reach the Wedgwood factory in time for lunch. It’s grey and overcast again but this is the start of another adventure, we’re off on the Four Counties Ring, whatever that is. Tomorrow we’ll whiz through Stoke again, hi to Robbie Williams, and maybe get through Harecastle tunnel before the day is done.

I’ve discovered that the GPS program for the XDA mobile phone isn’t so wonderful. Eight satellites give me an accuracy of 200 feet at best. This means that Lisa, Jane or John give me silly directions when there are two roads close to each other. It seems I’m always on the wrong road and when I turn right it gives me grief with shouts to stop and turn around. Lisa screams abuse at me until I switch to John who issues instructions in more measured tones.
One day this week the satellites told me I was smack in the middle of the M6, several miles away. Any more of that and the XDA will be.
And another thing, you can only exist on a road. There’s no allowance for taking a footpath or a towpath and field walking is a definite no-no. I think someone at O2 will get a phone call tomorrow.