On the cut again!

And when Michelle arrived on Saturday, the wind speed was extreme. I'd already contacted her to tell her to take it easy on the roads, there was no hurry because we weren't going anywhere in that wind. Nor did we on Sunday, for the same reason. Only wetter. So we chatted, had a Sunday roast at The Wheatsheaf, played games and enjoyed the pattering of the rain on the roof and the rocking of the boat by the gale.

Monday was much better, so off we went, Crick Tunnel, Watford Locks, and first stop below Buckby Top Lock.

As you can see from the photos, the weather was in our favour. Once moored, we wandered down a few hundred metres to the Anchor Cottage Crafts Canal Shop. Grace and I had sailed or walked past it so many times, but never given it more than a glance. We expected it to stock bread, milk, tea and coffee, that kind of thing, along with a handful of crafts. How wrong were we!? Its tiny space was cram packed with a huge range of lovely crafted items. Not a loaf of bread or bottle of milk to be seen, though there are ice-creams.

Grace bought a wooden egg-box, having searched low and high for one for months. It now sits happily on our galley worktop.

Our descent of the rest of the Buckby flight the next day was simplified by sharing with another boat, and more often than not finding locks ready for us to enter. There was a nationwide shortage of water across the whole network and, like many other locks no doubt, opening times were restricted and boaters encouraged to share as often as possible.

We stopped at the bottom of the flight for shopping at the marina, and for lunch, before moving on to Weedon Bec.

 

The weather was perfect until the next morning, when it poured with a wind-driven rain that made the camper-vans opposite look bleak. When that eased off, we pushed on towards Stoke Bruerne, but the rain paid a return visit and Grace and I got totally soaked while our guest was under orders to stay inside. Blisworth Tunnel was very welcome - it was a lot drier in there!

courtesy of waterways.org.uk

We changed out of our dripping attire and had lunch. Then an abatement of the downpours allowed us to go out for a stroll around the wharf, and the afternoon was really pleasant. Until I ran the engine.

Our batteries had been showing signs of failing. They're six years old, way past their guarantee age, and no longer holding their charge very well. I ran the engine for a couple of hours to recharge them so that we'd have 12v power throughout the evening, and I was on my way to switch it off when the engine coughed, spluttered and stopped. After a good deal of head scratching and not daring to try to restart it more than once, we left the flipping thing and went to the Boat Inn, where Michelle treated us to a fine dinner.

I called RCR first thing the next morning, and Dylan duly arrived within a couple of hours. It didn't take him long to find what was wrong. Diesel bug!

We were fortunate. There is a filter in the fuel line that extracts water as the diesel passes through, and this had collected all of the gunk that the bug creates (as seen above). It had got to the point where the fuel flow became totally blocked, stopping the engine. The second filter down the line was totally unaffected, but Dylan changed both filters anyway to be thorough, and left to attend to his next call-out. Excellent service!

The previous day, we'd moored a few tens of metres past the winding-hole, so we stern-hauled Kantara back to it, turned around and headed into the tunnel, on our way back now to Yelvertoft.

The weather was up and down, but never too extreme. We overnighted at the same spots we'd chosen on our way out, and stopped for an hour or so at Weedon for Michelle to see the old church, and to buy food and chocolate. Buckby Locks had to be navigated alone. There were no other craft behind us for miles as it happened. Anyway, the restrictions had been removed, so there wasn't the urgency about saving water any more. But that didn't excuse me for allowing a top gate to swing open and drop the level in the pound above quite significantly. Michelle and I hurried back to close it when Grace saw how low the water had got.

Watford Locks was... Watford Locks, Crick Tunnel was navigated behind a rather slow hire boat, Yelvertoft Marina presented a stiff breeze while Grace struggled a bit to reverse into our berth. We ate at The Wheatsheaf again, played our final game of cards, and Michelle drove home on Sunday morning. It had been very good to be out and on the move.

Being, not doing

For most of us, the largest part of our lives is spent doing, so I really enjoy those days that can be spent simply being. Yesterday was like that, and the day before, when there were few locks or swing-bridges or lift-bridges or any other kind of distraction, and our time is spent simply chugging along at 3 mph - less when passing moored boats (and we've passed a lot of those!) - enjoying the canal and the countryside, the peace and quiet.

Tuesday was the same. After another cold night, the morning was mild and sunny as we ascended the last two locks up into and through Stoke Bruerne Wharf. We met no other craft in Blisworth Tunnel, and the journey on through Blisworth, Gayton Junction, Bugbrooke, and Nether Heyford was simply beautiful and beautifully simple.

One of our favoured moorings - just before Stowe Hill, opposite a farm and its camping site - had only two other boats, and we happily tied up there.

It rained hard overnight and into the morning, torrential at times, and with a strong wind. Our hatches were already battened down. We stayed where we were, and pitied the hire-boaters who hurried past, who didn't have the luxury of time to spend moored up, who had to be back at their base by Friday regardless of the weather. We remember it well. Been there, done that, T-shirts were unavailable.

Several boat owners, however, landed on our stretch over the next few hours, furiously banging in pins and fastening lines, and longing to get inside to dry off, warm up and recover.

And after a day of on and off winds and teeming rain, it all cleared away to reveal a newly-washed sky pierced by a bright sun and adorned by scraps of cotton-wool cloud.

All that, and I didn't have to do a thing.

Spring has sprung

Tuesday morning was distinctly cold, so we set out very well wrapped. At least it wasn't raining. The smiles on our faces were widened as we passed the boat with the best name - Jeriatrix! It was a lazy day for me. There were no locks, so I had plenty of time to watch the passing countryside. Spring is in more than just the air. Blackthorn blossom, Marsh Marigolds, daffodils, lambs and calves all displayed under a blue sky and bright sun. I wouldn't have called it warm, though! We made only slow progress because of the large number of moored boats we passed, but we were in no hurry.

We were through Blisworth Tunnel (1¾ miles long) in 25 minutes. Strangely, the sign outside both portals say that that is the average passage time. We've know people take 45 minutes and more, so the fastest must be ballistic! Arriving in sunny Stoke Bruerne, we moored and settled down for a quiet afternoon while the temperature rose.

It was a chilly morning we awoke to, though, but the wharf was beautiful under the bright sun. It really is a lovely place to relax in.

While Grace did some painting I went for a walk. First of all up to the tunnel and across the top of it...

I had intended to walk to the other end of it, along the road that would have been taken by the boat horses back on the day, while their barges were being legged through the tunnel - a 1½  hour job! However, when it joined a main road I couldn't see where it continued on the other side, so I turned back and carried on down the lock flight.

After a couple of pints and a very good lunch at The Boat, we relaxed and enjoyed an afternoon doing very little, but being very content.

On the move...

Thursday was altogether brighter, sunnier and warmer from the start. There were more boats on the move, we thought. I heard from a fellow boater the evening before that Stoke Bruerne Bottom Lock is being repaired, and wouldn't be passable until some time on Saturday. This will slow our progress a bit, but it's a good place to spend time, so we wouldn't mind. We continued our descent of Buckby Locks, solo all the way down, and I was glad to be doing the locking, and walking from lock to lock. It was warm and still. Daffodils lined the hedgerows and verges. Birdsong filled the air. Perfect.

The locks were straightforward enough until we came to the second to last one (don't remember what number that is). As the chamber emptied slowly, it became quite clear that neither of the sluices was fully closed, despite the paddles being right down. I checked them, just in case. The sluice in the wall on the towing-path side was the worst, but both continued to pour water into the chamber at such a pace that we didn't think it was going to empty enough for me to open the bottom gates. Eventually, very slowly, it did, and Kantara made her way to the bottom lock.

The problem here was at least in part caused by the previous lock. I found the top gates closed, the chamber full, and the pound above it so full that water was pouring over the top gates into the chamber. Against that weight of water, I found it difficult to open the gates to let Kantara in. Once she was in, opening the bottom gate paddles started to lower the water in the lock. As you would expect. But then the lock above us, refilling because of the faulty top paddles, started to overflow at an alarming rate. And the level of the pound below rose to the point that the water again started to overflow our top gates and refill the chamber. Kantara rose slowly, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I was joined by one of the crew from a pair of boats who were now in the faulty lock above. It took him a while to grasp the situation, and it was amusing to watch him try to open a bottom gate against a huge weight of water. The time came, though, when the level of the top pound had dropped enough for it to stop filling our lock, and allowing the water to fall again. The bottom paddles were fully open, remember.

All seemed fine at last. The two boats left the lock above us and chugged down to wait to enter our lock in their turn. The lock they'd left would have to fill up again before it could overflow the gates, reflood the pound below, overflow our top gates and repeat the problem for us. All was well.

Until it became very obvious that the crew of those two boats had failed to close either of the bottom gates. So yet again, the water rushed over the top of our top gates and... you get the picture.

Eventually, after half an hour in the bottom lock, we escaped and continued a now lockless journey to a lovely mooring opposite some very grand houses just around the corner from Stowe Hill Wharf. It was a beautiful, mild evening.

Looking back at the offending lock

Stowe Hill

The next day, Gayton Junction was the first place of any importance, being the entrance to the Northampton Arm of the GU. When we've wanted to use the services here in the past, there have been other craft moored there, and we've had to wait – where there isn't really anywhere to wait. That day, the moorings were vacant – and we didn't need them! Ironic.

Blisworth village has a small but usually useful general store, which was totally useless to us on this occasion, so we moved on to the tunnel. Two working boats were behind us as we approached it, and we allowed them to pass before entering. The extreme flooding we'd seen on YouTube had subsided, leaving behind grassy banks in muddy disarray. But the amount of water falling from the roof of the tunnel, throughout the 35 minutes we were in it, was soggily amazing.

Finding a good mooring in Stoke Bruerne shortly after exiting the tunnel, we tied up for the night. We like it here.

Stoke Bruerne and beyond

Friday morning was sunny and bright. Jess spent an hour or so at the Stoke Bruerne Museum, feeding her interest in things historical, and looking for inspiration for a song. It seems that the museum has improved enormously since its refurbishment. We'll have to visit it again some time.

Grace baked another banana cake!

After an early lunch, we moved on. In Blisworth Tunnel - which was a very wet experience! - we saw two of the mysterious tunnels in the east wall, the apparent sighting point of the tunnel's ghosts. We stopped for bread and milk at Blisworth village beyond the tunnel, then again for services at Gayton Junction.

Warehouse/apartment conversion at Blisworth

It was a lovely day for cruising again, and the scenery was beautiful. We stopped for the night at a good, open spot opposite a farm camping site.

Heavy rain was forecast for Saturday, and at first light there was the first of it, for about thirty seconds, complete with thunder. Then it stopped... Until 9:30 when we started on our way! We spent the first 45 minutes crawling along behind a hire boat with a very grumpy crew, who eventually pulled over rather grudgingly to let us pass.

We arrived at Buckby Bottom Lock to find that it took over ten minutes to empty to let Kantara in; the top gate was overflowing faster than the bottom paddles were letting out. By the time I had opened the bottom gates, we had been joined by another boat - but fortunately not the grumpy guy one! NB South Downs shared the locks with us up the whole flight of seven. With four of us locking, we did it in very good time. What's more, the rain stopped, the sun came out, and we started to steam dry.

We left South Downs filling with water at the top lock, and moved on, turning into the Leicester Section at Norton Junction, and mooring up a few hundred yards up to have lunch.

It was still bright and sunny when we'd eaten, so we carried on to Watford Locks. There was no delay, Jess helped with the locking, and the hire boat with the drunken crew ahead of us was being assisted by a lockie, so our ascent was smooth.

We arrived back at the marina at 6:00pm, the end of a fun week with Jess, and of a good, three and a half week cruise, 149 miles and 160 locks. Sunday morning, we took Jess back home, and we'll be in St Albans for a couple of days.

Our first cruise of the year starts here!

Wednesday, 14th May.
The sky is blue, the clouds are fluffy and white, and there's little wind. A perfect start for our return cruise down to Brentford. We left the marina at around 11:30 and headed south, passing several moving boats before Crick Tunnel. We passed one in it, too, but after that, the traffic on the canal was very thin, and all was very peaceful.

We had just a ten-minute wait at the top of Watford Locks, after which we descended quickly. We had a relaxed lunch shortly after that, and moored for the night at a favourite spot of ours, opposite the pair of abandoned BW butties, just above Norton Junction. That was around 3:30pm, and no boats passed us for the rest of the day. Why is it so quiet?

Thursday
It was a beautiful morning when we woke at 7:00, and it continued that way for the rest of the day. Setting off under a clear, blue sky, we arrived at Buckby Top Lock behind a 35 foot NB Kes being taken to Rugby Boats at Stowe Hill by two ladies, one of whom was the wife of the owner of the boat dealership, and the other was Mortimer Bones, a regular writer for Canal Boat magazine. (Good grief! I'm currently moored at Stoke Bruerne, and just been passed by 30 whippets, being walked along the towing path by their owners! No, make that 35!)

We were fortunate to have a boat to share the wide locks with, and even more so, that they were such good company. Since Mortimer (her nom ne plume, I'm sure) did most of the locking down this flight of seven, I got to chat a lot with her, and she was a lot of fun.

Ahead of us were two, 70 foot boats, tied together side by side. The owner of one of them was at her tiller, the other owner was doing the locks. It wasn't without its difficulties, and our progress behind them was slow, but the weather was the best we'd seen for ages, we were in no hurry, and we met lots of folk along the way.

We parted company with Kes after the bottom lock. The two ladies had to get to Stowe Hill as soon as possible, and Grace and I needed some lunch. Since we didn't want to arrive at Stoke Bruerne before 6:00pm on Friday, we moored about half a mile below the lock, had lunch, and stayed there until the next morning.

Friday

Awaking to another fine, sunny morning, with only the occasional sound from the railway a few hundred yards away to break the silence, we got off to a lazy start towards Blisworth Tunnel. Again, we were surprised at the small number of moving boats we encountered. We started to tan under a clear sun.

We moored in the village of Blisworth, where we did a bit of food shopping, and had lunch. We stayed there until 5:00 before going through the Tunnel in a record 29 minutes, having met no oncoming boats at all. We found a good mooring close to Stoke Bruerne wharf, and tied up for the weekend.

On a sad note, Terence, of Canal Arts, the teacher at the Roses & Castles painting course Grace is attending here, was the victim of a burglary yesterday morning. Thieves stole 185 of the pans, buckets and other items on which he paints his beautiful designs, for sale.

So we're here until Monday morning. And it's one of my favourite spots!