Making our way off the Bridgewater Canal

 Moving on from Pennington Flash on Thursday morning, we hurried through Leigh, which is less beautiful. Worsley is a colourful, characterful corner of the Bridgewater Canal, and almost the only part of it Grace seems to like! We stopped to get milk here. There is one shop. A newsagent, though it does sell a small range of other stuff. Including milk. Very small bottles only!

Just across the canal from where we moored is a boatyard advertising that it sells Calor Gas. We drove across, and I bought a bottle, swapping it out with the empty one from the deck of a barge 50 yards further on, with our prow sticking out rather obstructively into the centre of the canal. It was another quiet day on the water, though, so we inconvenienced no-one. We only met four boats in the whole day.

The result of too-late a cuppa?

Not easy to see, but this juvenile heron has a rat in its beak!

We were on the look-out for a Bridgewater Company employee noting our presence on their waters, and today we spotted him, photographing us with his phone and tapping in details – our name and number, no doubt. Would someone now flag us down and demand payment for having returned to their canal before the required 28 days had passed, or would my email conversations with Head Office have persuaded them not to press charges?

We passed again over the Manchester Ship Canal, mighty but shipless. How often do they have to swing this bridge to allow the passage of big ships? we wondered.

The Trafford (shopping) Centre

The canal through Trafford Park was a potential stopping-place for us, but as we cruised along, it became clear that is was less desirable than we had hoped. The concrete canal edge and footpath was a major part of the problem. How would we actually tie up the boat? We moved on, bearing right off the Leigh Branch at the junction with the Manchester junction, and down through Stretford and the sprawl of Sale. 

Beyond Sale, the canal winds out into lovely, welcome countryside, and we moored for the night at a beautiful spot in Dunham Massey.

Still no problem from the Bridgewater Company.

On to Plank Lane (broken) Bridge

Wednesday

The flipping alarm woke us at 6:00 this morning! OK, I had set it for that, but that's no excuse! We left at 7:15, giving ourselves more than enough time to get to Plank Lane Bridge before 2:00pm. There was no knowing what might happen to delay us, and we really didn't want to risk missing today's bridge opening, and have to wait until Friday for the next.

Our first delay was at the first lock, just 15 minutes after we'd set out! I'd forgotten that this lock is padlocked closed between 8:00pm and 8:00am each day through the summer months (whatever they are!), to “preserve water” (CRT).

So we made hot drinks, and sat back and enjoyed them until the CRT man arrived and unlocked the paddle mechanisms.

Five more locks followed, and, as I said on our way in to Liverpool, these must be the worst locks on the system. There are broken paddles that can't be opened, and heavy gates that either wouldn't open more than half way or were extremely heavy and difficult to move. And then there's the total lack of gangplanks across the lock gates, so that you have to use the footbridge – and even a major road bridge in one instance – at one end of the lock to get to the other side. All of these contrived to slow us down considerably. But we'd allowed plenty of time, so that wasn't too big a deal.

We met absolutely no other boats until we got to Plank Lane.

The nicest thing about the canal through Wigan, I have concluded, is the Elsan Disposal point at Henhurst Bridge Lock. Just above Poolstock Locks is a CRT notice promoting the “flashes” which we would encounter over the next few miles. We moored at Pennington Flash and later at Scotman's Flash a few weeks ago, and they're lovely. This sign has “Wigan Flashes” in big letters across the top. Wigan flashes? Flashes?? It doesn't even glimmer!

We arrived at Plank Lane at 12:30, and joined the queue of those waiting for the bridge to be opened. NB Gerty was two boats ahead of us. Boaters stood around, chatting happily, and we joined in. We were all glad the weather was fine.

We had lunch, and were ready to move at 2:00. We we now sixth in a convoy of nine going east through the bridge. Fourteen boats were waiting the other side to go through the other way. By the time we got to the raised bridge, there was a long line of cars waiting on both sides. The convoy was fun. It really looked as if we were all at a canal festival or something similar.

We pulled over for the night at Pennington Flash while the other eight boats carried on.

A day by the lake

After NB Adagio had left, were were alone here. There's another boat behind us, but there's no-one there, so we have the whole stretch to ourselves. The footpath is well used, though, with lots of cyclists and walkers passing with some regularity, but there's little disturbance. 

Few boats have passed, too, but we did have one "craft" pass us which you don't see often. A couple of miles back down the canal, we passed a floating pontoon being constructed at the side of the canal. A huge section of it was being craned over tall trees and onto the canal, to be attached to what was already there. Thankfully, the crane operator waited for us to pass.

Today, much to our surprise, the finished article floated up behind us.

The young men were pulling it - yes, manually! - from where it had been constructed to the site of a new marina half a mile or so ahead of us.

There's a lot of house construction going on there, and there is no room for the crane that's needed to put these floating pontoons together, so they've chosen the nearest possible place to do the job, and the pontoons have to be towed to their final resting place. On this occasion, the towing-boat hadn't arrived, so these guys had been commissioned to tug the thing. Not an enviable job.

Some hours later, they went by again, this time riding the pontoon as it was being towed by the boat.

We've not been idle during our stay here. Last night, apart from cooking a superb curry for supper, Grace made a large jarful of hummus, and an apple cake. Today, she's been castle-painting. I tightened the stern gland, hoping to slow the drip there, and did a number of engine checks and cleaning. The sun's not been out much today, though it's been very warm, so the solar panels have been challenged in their production of electricity - they're old, and not as efficient as newer units - so we've had to run the engine for a couple of hours. 

It's lovely here, but it'll be good to move on, to see new places and new things.

Pennington Flash

Was it the thunder that woke me up, grumbling loud and close in the 7 o'clock sky, or did that raucous crow land on the roof before that, running up and down the roof above me, and cawing as if in anger? Either way, I was awake on a beautiful morning, and Grace almost was.

We weren't hurrying to move on. We only had a few miles' journey ahead of us today, this mooring was very pleasant, and the weather was totally laid-back. I stood on the stern, enjoying where we were, and along came a wide-beam boat. Not just any wide-beam, mind you, but a grey, speeding wide-beam, pushing around 26 or so tons of water away from it in waves which raised my eyebrows. Four miles an hour is the permitted maximum speed on canals. Three is more normal. Two or less would be the considerate speed for passing moored craft. This one was most certainly going faster than four.

Being generally non-confrontational by nature, I didn't do the boaty-screamy thing which others adopt in such circumstances, but the skipper must have at least wondered why my jaw had dropped so low, and why I didn't return his cheerful greeting. Kantara lurched as the fiend passed, and I turned towards the bank to see the stern mooring pins struggling to remain in their appointed position. They weren't going to manage it.

I jumped off in time to catch hold of the rope as the pins finally pulled out of the bank. I cast a glance towards the bow, just as the pins there ripped out of the ground and headed towards the canal. I called Grace. I called Grace again, louder and with rather more urgency. She arrived, the pins were banged back in, the ropes re-tied, Kantara's security re-established.

It wasn't long after that that we pulled them up again, and cast off towards Leigh, thinking that this town might be worth a visit. But it was one of those towns that makes you want to sail through, in fact. Not inviting to boaters. So we sailed on through.

It was on our way through that we saw the last of the canalside cranes that are a common sight on the Bridgewater Canal. Ancient, immobile, they stand next to a stack of heavy wooden boards. Both canal sides at this point have a slot cut in them, into which the planks can be lowered by use of the crane, one on top of the other, to form a barrier across the canal. The stretch of canal between two of these barriers can then be drained for maintenance.

Fascinating clouds!

At the top of Leigh, Leigh Bridge 66 has a large sign, welcoming boaters to CRT's Leeds and Liverpool Canal. We carried on to Pennington Flash, a huge lake standing in a country park. It's beautiful. What a place to moor!

I'd been having an email conversation with Steve on board NB Adagio. Steve and Viv are from Yelvertoft, too, and they were on their way back there from Liverpool. Steve had been recommending various places to moor along our route, and pubs and eateries. I'm following their travels on their blog.

We'd had a few exchanges over a period of some days, along the lines of, “We're here, where are you?”

“We're here. It'd be good to meet up and have a drink somewhere.”

“Yes, keep me informed.”

“Are you still in Lymm?”

“No, we're at Pennington now for a couple of days”

“Roger?” A voice.

There was a knock on the side of the boat. It was Steve. We'd moored just a matter of tens of yards in front of Adagio, but not recognised her. It was good to see them and have a chat, but we didn't get around to having that drink. I'm about to investigate a local pub which we found on the map, but Adagio passed us first thing this morning (Thursday), and we missed our chance.

We took a walk down to the lake yesterday afternoon.

Today's a day of odd jobs.