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.

Harecastle Tunnel

It was just a mile from Westport Park to Harecastle tunnel. There were three narrowboats waiting to go through, and another joined the queue behind us soon after we arrived. It was good timing. Traffic is one-way through the tunnel, so there's a timetable, scheduling craft times to enter in alternating directions.

The tunnel is 2926 yards long, the fourth longest on the UK canal system, and it has something of a reputation for being tricky because of stretches of low roof about half-way through. Sadly, there was a death last year, probably caused by the man hitting his head on the roof, and falling backwards off the end of his boat. There was no-one with him at the stern at the time. Needless to say, CRT are now very much more sensitive to safety issues here now. Before our entry, all waiting boaters were gathered together by the duty Keeper, and given a sheet of safety instructions, which he gave to us orally as well.

There are actually three parallel tunnels at Harecastle, needed to deal with the volume of traffic which once went this way. One was a railway tunnel. But two of these have been closed over the decades since, and only the one is in use now. Built by Thomas Telford in 1827.

After a convoy of five or six boats had emerged from the gloom of the tunnel into the sunlight, our keeper beckoned our group in, one by one. He urged us to maintain normal cruising speed. And to mind our heads! Unfortunately, however, the front boat went very slowly at times, and this is a problem in a narrow tunnel like that, because at very slow speeds it becomes more difficult to steer boats, and no-one wants to bang their shiny boats against the rough brick walls.

But all went well, and we duly drove out unscathed about forty minutes later. A striking phenomenon here is the striking change in the colour of the canal water. Where it had been normal greenish-brown at the eastern portal, it is now bright, rusty yellow. From iron ore in the ground.

Several boats were gathered here, waiting to take their turn in the other direction. I waved to working boat NB Halsall, a Twitter contact of mine I'd never seen before.

Almost immediately after the tunnel comes Harding's Wood Junction, where the Macclesfield Canal turns left off the Trent and Mersey, runs parallel for a hundred yards, then turns sharp right onto an aqueduct over the T & M, to head off north-east while we continue north-west.

The aqueduct carrying the Macclesfield Canal

Five more locks now, the Red Bull flight, nothing at all to do with the energy drink, followed by another six at the start of what is known by some as Heartbreak Hill. It's not that bad, really! Most of the locks from here on for several miles are twinned narrow locks, like those at Hillmorton.

The sign says "Lock Closed" - that's the one, on the left, with all the reeds growing in it!

At one of the locks, a vollie was training a man with no previous canal experience. It was his first day of training, and his instructor was giving him masses of detailed information. He looked over at Grace bringing Kantara into the lock.

“And this young couple”, he told the learner, “are quite clearly not without experience. The gentleman holds his windlass the right way up, and the lady brings the boat in without bashing into anything!”

The countryside has become gently hilly, and there are beautiful views from the canal.

Anyone know what make and model this fine old car is?

After the six locks, we were in Church Lawton, the village we'd designated as the place for our mooring at the end of the day. But we'd made faster progress than we'd anticipated, and it was only one o'clock, so we had a bite to eat and moved on another ten lock-miles to a beautiful countryside spot below Pierpoint Locks.

Cows and donkeys chewed grass contentedly in the field opposite, the weather was good, the scents of wild flowers filled the air, the coffee was superb. This couldn't be beaten!