Soggy Stratford

On Thursday we stopped off at Grove Lock to buy gas and diesel from the marina there. It's an impressive-looking business. Not only is there a very pleasant marina, but also two large and inviting camping sites dotted with caravans and campervans. The next stop was at Linslade, for water, Tesco and lunch. Rain had been promised, but hadn't so far amounted to much.

Mooring at the end of the day was problematic. We wanted to stop at Old Linslade Manor. We made several attempts to pull in to the bank, but found the water too shallow, and had to reverse out, move on and try again. But we were successful eventually, and tied up between bridges 108 and 109. It was an even more suitable mooring than the ones at which we'd failed.

The sky was piled high with fabulous clouds, but still there was no rain.

The CRT guy I met on Monday had said that the Grand Union main line was "really busy", but seriously you wouldn't think that even if you were seeing double! The canal continued to be very quiet. Our five-mile dawdle to Fenny Stratford was peaceful and beautiful, and we met perhaps four other boats, one of which bore Donna and her other half on their way back to their home mooring. Sadly, the five-year-old intermittent engine fault had recurred and forced them into submission, and they'd had to cut short their trip. We waved them farewell and wished them all the best in sorting it all out.

Oh look! A pile of boats!! 

Soulbury Three Locks were bleak and deserted. The pub was empty. Odd. Vladimir Putin was walking back and forth agitatedly in the car park, his phone to his ear. At least, I think it was him. Very odd.

By the time we got to Stoke Hammond, it was raining on and off. When it was on, it was quite hard but mercifully brief. The worst of it was being saved until we got to Fenny Stratford. Here we met up with NB Nutshell, whom we'd seen several times over the past weeks. They were about to enter the lock, so we slipped in next to them. Then it started to rain.

We closed the top gates, and it rained harder. Dropped the paddles, harder still. Opened the bottom paddles - it was really raining hard now! Opened the gates and let Nutshell out ahead of us, was unable to close the swingbridge because - dunno why, closed the bottom gates and dropped the paddles, moored Kantara and wrang the water out of some very wet things, hurried back to figure out why the swingbridge wouldn't swing, figured out why and swung it, re-closed a recalicitrent gate, and hurried back to Kantara.

Drenched! Sodden!! Soaked!!!

 (Photos taken next day!)

It wasn't raining as we set off the next morning, and there were a lot more boats on the move - most of it hire boats from the Wyverne fleet. But the weather wasn't in their favour; cold to very cold with strong winds, mainly sunny but with outbreaks of ice. We didn't go far. After about six miles we stopped at Giffard Park, Milton Keynes, to have a bite to eat and to do some shopping. When we were ready to move again - we only had about two more miles to do to get to a favourite mooring - the sky loured, the ice descended and the wind it did blow.

We went in for further refreshment. And stayed the night.

Giffard Park turned out to be a much better mooring than we had expected it to be. It was very peaceful, and the towing-path was little used. There was open parkland opposite us, and quiet housing next to us on our side. It was clean and tidy. We've marked it as a favourite on our map.

 (Photos taken the next day!)

Favourite boat name of the day, "Flat Bottom Girl".

Did I tell you about the last time we were on this stretch of canal, and saw a duck flying away with an egg in her beak, angrily (?) pursued by two males? Weird!

And on we go...

Fenny Stratford to Soulbury Three Locks, to Linslade Tesco, to bridge 109, to Slapton Wharf, and then to Marsworth Bottom Lock on Tuesday. Progressing slower than usual, and loving it. Drama free, stressless, cold but getting warmer. Then came the drama.

Okay, it was only a minor drama. We set off alone up the Marsworth Flight on the foggy Wednesday morning,

and got stuck almost immediately. Literally stuck! The pound above our first (bottom) lock was very low, and Kantara grounded as Grace tried to ease her out of the lock. There's only one thing to do in this situation. Unless there's a vollie around, then you let them do it for you! I opened a top gate of the next lock, Grace took Kantara back into her lock, and I closed the gates in front of her to protect her from the coming deluge. Then it was a matter of opening one paddle in the bottom gate of the lock above us and watching the ensuing flood, waiting for the water to rise enough for Kantara to pass through and into the second lock. Fortunately, the pound above the second lock is a longish one, and draining that much water out of it didn't make too big an impact upon it. It's always a danger!

Drama over, we carried on up the flight. At the next lock we met NB Daisy from Wyvern Shipping Co., out for ten days on a trip down into London, and we shared locks up the rest of the flight. It was easy going, and the weather was really good by now. Enjoying the locking too much, I neglected to take any photos. There were a couple of vollies around who might have taken the load off for long enough for me to take a few snaps, and they did indeed promise us three times that they would prepare the next lock for us. They did the top lock.

It was well past lunch time, and we were very thirsty and hungry, so we paused below Bridge 135 for refreshments, continuing afterwards, now without Daisy, down through Cowroast, Dudswell and Northchurch locks to moor for the night just above Bushes Lock.

Grove Lock to Stoke Hammond (cruise retrospective)

We slept late. Yesterday had been unusually enervating for some reason. But no matter. We're in no hurry. Except for the slight pressure to leave before Jules leaves.

Late yesterday afternoon, two Jules Fuels boats came down Grove Lock and moored outside the pub (see photo above). They travel together, tied together for the main part, and we didn't want them to get ahead of us and slow our progress. So we were glad to set off towards Linslade and Leighton Buzzard.

The weather was cold, bitterly so at times, with a persistent gusty winds and some nasty, albeit briefish downpours of icy rain. I ended up wearing the same layers of clothing as I'd worn when travelling from Debdale to Yelvertoft in the snow of March 2013. Crazy weather!

Shortly after leaving Grove Lock, we moored at Leighton Buzzard Tesco to do a bit of shopping. Later, as we prepared to cast off, the Jules boats arrived, and moored behind us. What a good job we hadn't dillied at Grove Lock. Or dallied, for that matter!

It was raining, windy and chilly, and we were only one hour away from what we'd normally call lunchtime. There's a two-hour limit to the Tesco moorings, so we moved on just a quarter of a mile or so, past the Wyverne Boats yard, and moored again. We decided that it'd be best for us to eat early and spend the rest of the afternoon in uninterrupted travel. Fingers crossed that Jules would be shopping for long enough for us to have lunch!

We arrived at Leighton Lock less than an hour later, to see NB Suchar Daval pulling away from the bottom gates. She hadn't passed us recently, so she must have only just moved from their overnight mooring, probably having already driven their car on the next leapfrog, and cycled back. We waved as we passed them tying up again, below the lock, perhaps for watering.

photo - chalicecruises.blogspot.co.uk

We passed NB Naughty Lass round about here, too, but Robbie was not to be seen. 

Soulbury Three Locks next, where we found no less than four vollies, who saw us down the flight. I stood at the middle lock, and watched with interest as the bottom paddles were raised, and water flooded into the middle pound.

I came down this flight two years ago, with Jess, and we watched frozen with horror as the water rose in the pound until it overflowed the walls and and ran across towards the doors of The Three Locks pub. It was only the combination of Jess dropping the paddles while I fled down to open the top paddles of the bottom lock that averted disaster.

Today, I watched the start of the same flood. But today, there were vollies waiting at the bottom lock, and when the water started to overflow the gates, they calmly opened the paddles, and there was not even the threat of a flood. I suggested to the nearest vollie that it might be a good idea for CRT to put notices up to warn boaters of the danger, and instruct them in how to avoid it. How on earth would a canal newbie, a hirer from nearby Wyverne, perhaps, know?

photo - geograph.org.uk

We pressed on to Stoke Hammond Lock, where we'd now decided we would moor and escape the cold wind and rain. We met NB Achenar moored just above the lock. They've been out cruising for some weeks now, but like to travel slowly, often staying at one mooring for several days. We hooted as we drifted past them, and Phil came out to chat while we waited for a pair of boats to come up the locks. Determined to do just one more lock, we descended, and moored for the night a few hundred yards further down.

It was cold. Silly-wooly-hat cold.

photo - www.sierratradingpost.com