Back on the move again!

Monday, and we're moving on again – at last! Two final locks took us off the Audlem Flight, and Kantara chugged her way happily through them, though she was emitting more exhaust than usual. It's to be expected, Ian had told us, and it could continue for some days. It's pretty bad for Grace when she's down in a lock, because the smoke has nowhere to go until the boat's risen to the top where it gets blown away by any breeze.

Shortly after those locks, we were climbing the Adderly Locks, five of them, then on through more, beautiful countryside. At Market Drayton, we stopped for full services (sigh of relief! - we were very short of water), then moved on a few hundred yards to a visitor mooring where we munched our lunch, and restocked our fridge at a nearby Asda.

Tyrley Locks were next, very similar to the previous flights – not very deep, and with culverts emptying excess water from above the lock out into the pound below, causing strong currents, and making entry to the lock a challenge each time.

Within a mile of Tyrley Top Lock, the canal enters a deep cutting. There's a warning as you enter that there's a danger of falling rocks (they don't mention trees, but there's a very real and present danger of some of these falling, too), and a directive not to exceed 2 mph. Another interesting feature is that most of this mile or so is only wide enough for one boat, with passing places for those awkward moments!

We moored at Goldstone Bridge, the Shroppie Ledge being a hindrance to us for the first time. There's a lot of craft here.

Interesting mooring!

We've done 22 lock miles today! If we keep up this pace, we'll still get to the IWA Festival!

And so we wait

Saturday
9:30 Ian phoned, the guy contracted by RCR to fix Kantara. He should be with us today, he said, though possibly quite late. Meanwhile, would we go to BCBM Boat Share Ltd in Audlem village to collect the lift pump which is being delivered there, for him to collect? He's not sure he'll get there before they close.

I have to confess my anxiety about the boat. Sam did say that the fault might be with another component, and the he was simply going with the cheapest one first. So Ian may well fit the lift pump, and then find that the problem's still there, and have to order another part. And there's still the possibility that damage has been done because the lubricating oil became so badly diluted with diesel. This could turn out to be very costly.

We walked into Audlem and collected the parcel from BCBM, sent directly by Barrus, the makers of our engine. It felt very light for around £50's worth of pump! We did some more shopping at the Co-Op while we were there - who knows how long we're going to be stranded here? - and returned to Kantara for a day of reading, writing and card games.

The batteries are running low. We can't run the engine to charge them, obviously, and our solar panels can make very little of the heavily-clouded sky. In the evening, there's no TV or DVD-watching, and no use of our laptops, so it's Scrabble, Skip-Bo and RummiKub under the light of two LCD lamps.

We share one LCD lamp when we read in bed. Energy has to be saved for the fridge and the water pump.

Oh, and our water's not going to last forever.

Well, this is fun!

Grace woke to a strong smell of diesel inside the boat. I got up fast, lifted the deck board, and looked down into the engine compartment.

Remember yesterday? I ask, "Will the diesel and the oil continue to seep into the engine?"

Sam answers, "No, not without the engine running."

I'm now looking at the result of the diesel and oil having continued to flow, and to fill the engine to overflowing. Sam hadn't closed the fuel stopcock. I closed it and swore. Only mildly, you understand.

I phone RCR and updated them, and cursed - only mildly, you understand - the rain that had started, and which is forecast for the whole day. RCR will pass on the information to Ian, the man who'll be fixing our boat. He'll be with us later, they say.

1:45pm No Ian. I phone RCR to chivvy them up.

"I'll check with Ian, and phone you back."

2:30pm I'm still waiting for them to call back.

2:45pm I call back. The pump has not been delivered as promised. Ian's working in an area with bad phone signal, and can't be contacted. I repeat my 8:00am update about the bilge flood. She seems to know nothing about that.

"Surely it's on your system?? You do HAVE a system, don't you?"

"I'll speak with Ian as soon as I can, and get back to you."

4:15pm No callback.

5:00pm The rain stops. the sun comes out, and boats and people are steaming as they pass. I'm steaming, too, but not because I got wet. People brighten up along with the weather, their customary greetings now more animated and genuine. Our solar panels begin to push some real power into Kantara's batteries, and eventually, the sun seems to do the same to me, too.

7:00pm OK, this is getting ridiculous. I know from experience that RCR engineers are excellent, but I'm seriously beginning to doubt the capability of their office staff. Time was that "I'll get back to you" meant that I'd hear from whoever it was, one way or the other. I'd know what was going on, where I stood, what I might expect to happen next. As it is, we're left feeling that no-one actually cares that we're very low on battery power, with weather forecast that's not going to replenish it, we can't use the engine to do it, and we're going to need water soon, and we can't drive the boat to a tap. And I'd have to carry a full cassette over a mile to the nearest Elsan point.

I'll be on the phone to them again first thing tomorrow, with my best teacher's-not-pleased voice.

So tonight, it'll be Scrabble by the light of one LED lamp, in order to conserve energy for essentials like the fridge and the water pump.

An unexpected delay

Wednesday
I rang RCR at 8:00 this morning, and reported our plight. At 9:00, I got a call back, saying that an engineer had been given the job, and we'd hear from him when he'd finished his current one.

I'm now pretty certain that the problem's a blown head gasket. That would explain the smoky exhaust and the oil in the water, which I discovered this morning. I can't imagine that it's a job which can be done on the cut, and I think the nearest boatyard is miles away, in Market Drayton, so I'll be interested to learn what RCR intend to do about it. We're thinking now that it's likely we'll not get to Pelsall in time for the festival, though we do have a few “spare days" on our itinerary. We shall see.

Audlem Locks have been very busy since 7:30. There's been an almost constant flow of boats in both direction. I put a notice up at Lock 4 above us, telling boats on their way down that we're moored, and not waiting to go up (so don't leave the bottom gates open for us, thanks).

The water that rushes out of the culvert at the bottom of the lock is a problem to everyone, regardless of their experience, though it has to be said that it's the hire-boaters who have the biggest problems. The strong currents hit the boats broadside as they head into the chamber, and this almost invariably results in them being knocked off course, and crashing into the entrance wall.

I used the waiting time to wash Kantara. The roof in particular was filthy, not helped by the fact that we'd moored in the shade of trees which dropped a sticky sap over the boat overnight. We moved her this morning, just a few yards to a place where we were less in the way of other boats. While I washed the boat, Grace was making a couple of meals' worth of soup. It smelled delicious.

The RCR guy arrived before 1:00. I was talking to a passing boater when he arrived. The boater was commiserating over the head gasket, and saying how he'd had to call in RCR a week or so ago, to fix an oil leak, and that the young man who'd done it had been most impressive. Lo and behold, it was the very same man who arrived at that moment.

“I get around”, he said.

He lowered himself into the engine compartment, and looked around. I was wrong about the head gasket (thank goodness!). It's not water in the oil, it's diesel(!) An oil seal in the lift pump has failed, allowing fuel into the lubrication system. It's far more easily fixed, and cheaper, but there's still a chance of damage having been done to the engine before it cut out. We can only hope and pray about that one.

Having taken photos of the pump needed to fix our sick Kantara, Sam the engineer towed her up the next two locks to a Visitor Mooring where we'd be right out of the way of other craft. He took the lead, very carefully manoeuvring the boat into the locks, steadying her as they filled, and out again. Grace towed at the stern, I managed the locks and took a centre line when needed. It was clear that he'd done this job before, at the same locks. He was very impressive.

  

I asked him, "Will the diesel and the oil continue to seep into the engine?"

"No," he answered. "Not without the engine running."

That's a relief. I had visions of waking up in the morning and finding the bilges full of a nasty mix of oil and diesel.

It seems that we'll have to wait a day or three for the problem to be fixed. Meanwhile, Sam will order a new lift pump, and he'll call when it arrives.

As I type, a man's just cycled past, calling out in a silly, high-pitched voice to Percy and Isaac, his two dogs.

"Come on, Percy! Isaac, hurry up!." This several times. Then, "Who's that over there, Percy? Isaac, who's that?" They didn't answer. Perhaps they didn't know.

"It's Mummy! Go to Mummy!"

Since the dogs were different breeds, I looked out to see what their mother was like.

"Come on, my little darlings!!" It was a woman. I was disappointed.

Fellow-Tweep Fuel Boat Halsall passes us

Thursday was spent basking in the glorious sunshine. RCR called to say the pump had arrived, and it would be fitted tomorrow. They'd call to let us know when.

One odd place to another!

Nantwich is an odd sort of place. Pleasant enough. But odd, we thought. The cruise from there on to Audlem was beautiful, however. Dairy herds spread out across lush pastures, hillier countryside beyond. Swallows graced us with their presence a lot of the time, singing shrilly in the trees between sorties for food over the canal.

Hack Green Locks interrupted the tranquillity for a short while, and a brief encounter with shallows on the off-side whilst waiting for an oncoming boat to pass an obstacle. Kantara lurched quite violently to port as Grace drove her onto the invisible mudbank, but no harm was done, and we reversed off easily enough.

The Secret Nuclear Bunker is marked clearly on the OS map, and canalside signs make sure that all passers-by know about it. We didn't visit it - it claims to be a day's entertainment - but we've added it to our Llangollen/Weaver trip.

Arriving at Audlem, we filled up with water and disposed of rubbish after the first two locks, then moored at the Visitor Moorings above Lock 13. We had lunch at The Shroppie Fly ("No hot food today because of the hot weather"), and perused the fascinating Audlem Mill Canal Shop adjacent to it.

We strolled into the village, too, but it was here that we discovered that Audlem's also a pretty strange place. It has the feel of a very old village where not much has changed over time. There are few shops, and most of those were either closed or closed down. A Co-Op and a traditional butcher's shop appeared to be the only suppliers of food.

Back at the boat after two hours, we decided to carry on up the Audlem Flight, and stop for the night at the top - 15 locks up. It was a good decision. Nearly all of the locks were set in our favour, and, apart from the really tricksy sluices at the bottom of each one of them, pouring water out from the side across the canal in currents that made steering difficulty, all went well.

Until Lock 4, when the engine cut out without warning, just as Grace was taking Kantara in. The engine exhaust had been unusually smokey for a while, but nothing else had seemed to be wrong, and I thought, "Oh-oh!"

I took a centre line, and pulled the boat back to a place where we could moor her without being too much in everyone else's way. I tried to phone River Canal Rescue, found my phone had no signal, took it up to higher ground and tried again, failed and went back to the boat, tried Grace's phone, heard RCR's phone ringing. And it rang, and it rang, and it rang. They were closed for the day, except for emergencies. And this was not one of those.

So here we are. Stranded. I'll phone RCR first thing in the morning. It's a pleasant spot between two close locks, with the constant background sound of rushing water.