Celebrations!

On this day ten years ago, I was celebrating the fact that I, newly retired from teaching, wasn't at the Training Day that my ex-colleagues were having to endure. Callous, wasn't I? But I was celebrating even more that we had just taken possession of NB Kantara. The next day, when I'd got my breath back, I blogged about it.

 

Now we REALLY start!

We could actually have hoped for a colder day yesterday, the day Kantara was handed over to us.  We allowed two hours for a one and a quarter hour journey, and it took three hours, a large chunk of which was spent sitting in a jam on the road from hell - the M1 - in very hot weather.  So we arrived late at Crick, to meet Bob, the last owner of Kantara, a lovely man who had lived with his wife full-time in the boat until poor health had forced them to sell.  He clearly loves Kantara, and his greatest wish now for her was that someone else would love her as much, and be as happy in her as he had been.  We think that describes us well.

Bob spent a good deal of time with us, explaining all sorts of details, and making sure that we had all the information we needed to get the best out of Kantara.  After he left, having given us his contact details and assured us that we were to feel free to get in touch with him if we needed any help, we drove to Yelvertoft Marina, left the car there, and walked back to ABNB in Crick to collect Kantara and sail her back to the mooring we had booked at Yelvertoft. It was a good feeling, knowing that she was now actually ours.

Then began the process of unloading the car, and getting things into the boat, listing the things we had overlooked and would need to pick up from home the next time we return. Time flew, and we realised we had not eaten since we munched a sandwich on the M1, so we had to stop to prepare and eat a meal, drink a bottle of wine Bob had so kindly left for us (along with some port and a bottle of a fiery spirit we had never seen before), before falling into bed, exhausted.

We awoke late this morning, to a dreary and windy day, but still warm, and the day was spent shopping for food, tidying our things properly into the many cupboards in the boat, and sorting out a few technical problems, most of which were due to our ignorance, and were solved by reading the manuals. One needed Bob's help, and he was onto it like a shot.  We are so grateful to him for his promise of support on such occasions.

And here we are, 10:20 on Saturday evening, sitting in the moorers' lounge in the marina - the best place to connect to the wi-fi - a lot closer to being ready to cruise a bit. We are in no special hurry. We want to be as comfortable as possible when we start to cruise, and not be irritated by some detail we have overlooked. The biggest challenge at the moment is getting our 3G router and antenna set up properly, so that both of us can get the best possible Internet connection for our laptop computers. I tried this evening before we ate, but I think I was just too tired, and I had to give up. But there's time to do that - I don't go back to school on Monday! 

Here's Kantara in her new setting...

And today, Grace and I celebrate that day; the beginning of a new way of life for us. The next few years are chronicled in the books I wrote later - Life with our feet under water, and Moving home with our feet under water. Hints and tips for life with YOUR feet under water followed, after we had gathered a mass of lessons learned from experience, and loads of advice from more experienced boaters. Those books, all Amazon best sellers, can be found HERE or via the links in the column to the right of this page. Please go and take a look.

What have we liked best on board Kantara? Well, the cruising, obviously. And my favourite trips? In no particular order...

• The Leicester Ring (our first cruise on Kantara)
• Liverpool, Salthouse Dock
• IWA Festival of Water at Pelsall on the Wyrley and Essington Canal
• Stratford-upon-Avon
• River Trent
• Oxford
•  Ashby Canal
• Down through London, and up the Lee and Stort navigations

For various reasons, we've done less cruising over the past four years, and that's regrettable. But Kantara was a lovely home during Covid lock-downs, and we plan to be back on the move next year after I've had my surgery. Covid allowing. And be assured, we'll be celebrating then, too.

I raise a toast to Kantara on our joint ten-year anniversary. Cheers! Here's to the next ten!

And we're back, with mixed emotions

Intent on getting to Yelvertoft today, we left Butcher's Bridge just after 8:00. Our exhaust emissions have been increasing day on day for the past week, blue and smelly. I had thought this would indicate worn piston rings, but the oil level's not dropping, and the engine starts without problem, so I guess that rules out piston rings. What it is eludes me. The smoke's been a real problem to Grace when she's been at the bottom of a lock, and the exhaust's had nowhere to go. And we had locks today, two flights of them. Grace wrapped a scarf around her face, and we started the locks.

Braunston Locks, six of them, double width, which we ascended solo. Then Watford Locks, five in a staircase with two normal locks below and one above. We know these well now, of course, and navigated them all in good time.

Braunston and Crick Tunnels supplied a good draught of air, which kept the exhaust fumes away from us, but the smoke was something of an embarrassment as we passed moored boats along the Crick Visitor Moorings, boats with their doors and windows open and people sitting on their decks. Profuse apologies were offered to all as we smoked past. One elderly boater who'd shared locks with us some time in the past said, "She wasn't smoking like that when I saw her last!" To which I answered, "She's never smoked like this before. She gave it up when she was young."

Back in the marina, Grace sped Kantara into her berth, and turned the engine off immediately. All was silent. Twelve boats from our pontoon are out on the cut. All around the marina, there are empty spaces. A tangible peace rests over the water.

Karen and Carol were the first to greet us. Nothing exciting had happened here while we were away, they said. Frank and Millie came to say hello, too. 

We've had a great cruise. Been places we'd never before been to, seen all sorts of new things, met loads of people, had challenges and overcome them. Enjoyed nearly all of it. It was a lot of fun. But there was something good about being back, too. We realized that having deadlines to meet - at Liverpool and at Pelsall - had put pressure on us, and we couldn't be as relaxed as we would have wanted. Next year, we said, we'll not impose any deadlines, any schedules upon our cruising. We'll just go, and be, and do as we choose, one day at a time.

We'd been out for 71 days. We travelled 452 miles, and been through 242 locks, 44 moveable bridges and 23 tunnels.

Now, we prepare for two visits from friends, all of whom we'll take out for a few days. Before then, we have to cure the smoking engine, wash and clean the boat inside and out, get the washing machine fixed, and probably get the packing in the stern gland replaced. In a relaxed sort of way!

Pelsall Bound

Thursday started misty and mysterious. The canal was peaceful, and everything smelled damp and perfumed. We set off for Sneyd Junction with time to spare. We needed to use the services there, as well as meeting Ian.

The beauty of this canal is different from that of all the others we know. It's lined on both sides with reeds and rushes, and lilies yellow, white and pink. The countryside stretches are wooded with occasional parkland. On this misty morning, the colours are many subtle shades of green and brown with highlights of purple and yellow.

Ian arrived shortly after we'd pulled in at Sneyd Junction services. He identified the leaky fuel problem, and out it right fairly quickly. He told us some tales, too! Then off we went again, Pelsall-bound.

Old working boat and butty on their way to the festival

There is problem with all of the plant life, in that it makes the channel so very narrow. Fortunately, we only met one boat in the miles before Pelsall (and that was in bridge-hole!), but this canal is single file only, with passing places. And the reeds grow in clumps, and these break up with time and motion, sending islands of the stuff floating away across the water. Add to that the cast-offs of the locals – wood, tyres, shopping trolleys, carrier bags, a door, two windows and a toilet seat, then navigation becomes a slow slalom, made slower by the shallowness of the water. My full-time occupation is to keep an eye out for hazards on the starboard side while Grace watches to port, and there are frequent shouts of “Island ahead, skipper!”, or “Watch out for the crocodile!” (codeword for any Unidentified Floating Object). 

But frankly, the visual experience of the Wyrley is well worth the annoyance of the rubbish in the water, a huge tangle of which I had to remove from the propeller, and another mess of which got sucked into the bow-thruster. Fortunately, it got thrust out again later.

It had started to rain, and this became very heavy as we arrived at Pelsall Common. We moored at the first available space, and were soon attended by the “Harbour Master”, who directed us to our designated space right next to the main common area, breasted up outside NB Valiant No. 7, owned by a very friendly Sue and Trevor.

We were drenched. Lots of boaters were, but there was already a good festival feeling, a joviality that boaters have in the rain.

A week ago, we were afraid that we were going to have to miss the festival because of the time we lost, broken down in Audlem. But here we are now, a day early!

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!

Liverpool Thursday and Friday

Thursday and Friday have been quieter days, with nothing pressing us to be done or to be seen. We had food shopping to do, since it'll be quite a few days before we get to any decent shops otherwise. And we "did" the Museum of Liverpool, too, because it's there, and we didn't want to discover after we'd left the city that it really is unmissable.

A pristine 1983 Ford Escort, 163 miles on the clock.

  

Model of the original design for Liverpool Cathedral

And we had another leisurely walk around the whole docks area.

They're more recognisable in profile than eye-to-eye

Back by the boat, the water was swarming with tiny fish enjoying the sun.

And some of the swans were out for a paddle.

Surprisingly, there are almost as many empty berths in Salthouse Dock than there are moored boats. We're wondering if people have been put off by the Bridgewater Canal license issue.

So, tomorrow we set off early - we have to be at the Mann Island Lock by 8:00 to start our assisted ascent to Lock 9. We'll probably moor at Lock 10 at the end of the day, as we did on the way down. We now have 20 days to get to Pelsall for the IWA Water Festival, but there's a stoppage at the lift-bridge this side of Pennington Flash which may cause us problems. We shall see!

Farewell, Liverpool. It's been good to know you!

Done deal

It's decided then. Even Grace, who doesn't like to plan much in advance, has agreed to my plan. I've booked our passage through the Liverpool Link on 31st July. After a stay of seven days, we'll have a leisurely trip to Pelsall for the IWA Festival of Water over the Bank Holiday weekend, then saunter back to Yelvertoft. There'll be no hurrying on the outward journey, either, so we reckon we'll be out for about eight or nine weeks. Unless we decide to carry on and not go back to Yelvertoft straight away, of course.

CanalPlan tells us,

"The total distance is 452 miles and 242 locks. There are at least 44 moveable bridges, of which 8 are usually left open; 154 small aqueducts or underbridges and 21 tunnels (including Crick Tunnel (1528 yards long), Braunston Tunnel (2042 yards long), Newbold Tunnel (250 yards long), Harecastle Tunnel (2919 yards long) [see navigational note 2 below], Barnton Tunnel (572 yards long), Saltersford Tunnel (424 yards long), Preston Brook Tunnel (1239 yards long), St Nicholas Place Tunnel, Mann Island Tunnel (96 yards long), Cowley Tunnel (81 yards long), Wolverhampton Tunnel (109 yards long), Factory Tunnel and Curdworth Tunnel (57 yards long)."

Some of those "tunnels" sound rather more like fat bridges, to be honest!

Sandy and Dave on NB San Fairy Anne went to Liverpool last year, and highly recommend it. We're really looking forward to it.

(www.docbrown.info)

(www.docbrown.info)

Until then...

Well, it had to happen, didn't it? Because of the rather extreme weather which is prompting many cries of anguish from friends back in the marina, we postponed our return to Kantara. And now that we've committed to a number of endeavours which will keep us here till next week, the weather improves considerably! The sun's out, the sky's very blue. It was the same yesterday, and the forecast says it will continue. So now there's plumbing to be done, serious hedge cutting, a tumble drier to be delivered, and an old one to dispose of.

I wonder how long the weather will hold. At least the wind seems to have past.