Farewell, Pelsall, it's been good to know you!

On Tuesday morning, we were one of the last to leave Pelsall. Most had gone the opposite way from us, we noticed, so our progress wasn't going to be hindered by other boats. Though we weren't in a hurry.

Boaters waved and called, "Goodbye! Have a good trip!" The weather was glorious. Several people we spoke to said that they were going to take the short detour up the Chasewater Arm on their way off the Wyrley. It was tempting. It sounded really lovely. But we wanted to feel now that we were "on our way back" now. This was a change of mindset from that of the previous months, when all the time we were headed for somewhere new.

The junction with the Cannock Extension Canal 

The Wyrley this side of Pelsall was rather different from the other. The water was cleaner and far less weedy, still narrow in parts, but opening out for much of the time.

So we passed on Chasewater, turning right at Catshill Junction instead, and onto the Daw End Branch. We stopped briefly at a convenient Tesco, moored at a crazy angle with our bow tied at the bank and our stern to an old BW butty, and for services and lunch at Longwood Junction.

Looking up the Chasewater Arm...

...we turn right under the bridge

We were on the Rushall Canal after that, and nine locks that proved something of a challenge, locks which are going to be closed for several weeks from next week, locks that desperately need major maintenance work. They leak very badly, and the pounds between them got progressively shallower as we descended the flight, slowing us more and more, and forcing us to keep to the middle of the channel, despite the problem then of passing oncoming boats. Many of the gate beams were rotten and crumbling, the bolts holding the winding mechanisms loose and wobbling in the old wood. Many of those winding mechanisms were themselves stiff and jammed.

Tired and hungry, we stopped at the bottom of the flight, and moored for the night.

IWA Festival of Water - Sunday and Monday

OK, I forgot. It rained on Saturday. Quite heavily, in fact, and for much of the afternoon. Grace and I got back to the boat not long before it started. It must have been a great disappointment to lots of folk. But it had cleared up by the time the evening entertainment started, and there was a good turn-out for that.

Sunday, however, was warm and sunny, and everything was steaming dry when we left Kantara. People had turned up in large numbers, and the sun shone on them. Business was going well at the traders' stalls, and there was a good festive spirit again.

I found this in the engine compartment on Thursday, when we arrived here.

My first thought was that it was something Ian Skoyles had dropped when he was fitting the lift pump. It certainly wasn't something he'd forgotten to fit. I'm sure the boat wouldn't have run so well, if he had. I showed it to two engineers at the festival. Both of them said it was a "lovely bit of engineering", and that it probably cost a lot. But neither of them had a clue what it was!

Sunday evening's entertainment was an open-mic event. We didn't have the courage to take part, but we went along to see what the talent was. The first several acts were regulars from the day-time programme, and they got had the "I wish they'd turn it right down! We're trying to have a conversation here" attitude from the audience that Duchess and the Dukes had had the night before. We just didn't understand it. People could have gone somewhere else to talk. This was where they were supposed to listen.

But then an amazing thing happened.

An elderly lady, small and frail with a quaking voice went up on stage, and introduced a song she had written. No-one listened to her. Then she started to sing. And within a minute, the marquee was silent, apart from her. She wasn't loud. She wasn't always tuneful. Once or twice, she forgot the words and had to pause to recollect them. But everyone listened, and she got massive applause. The song was brilliant, I thought. The lyrics were outstanding, the tune a good English folky melody. She was just brilliant.

Some of the following acts were popular because they were so awful, and people loved to laugh at them. One singer's guitar was badly out of tune, and he quite seriously blamed it on the fact that he'd had to plug it into the PA system. Another's ukulele was in tune, but his voice was rarely even close to it. Another of the regulars sang, too - another Roger - and he was both musically competent and very funny.

At 9:00, many of the audience left the marquee, including us, to see a sail-past of a number of illuminated boats. It was quite a spectacle. The hugest cheer went up for a 10'4" rowing boat!

We returned to the open-mic after that, but didn't stay long. I just couldn't take any more of the audience's rudeness.

Monday was even sunnier and hotter than Sunday, and the crowds were even bigger. The car park was full by midday. People were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and excitement hung in the air.

We spent the day soaking up the sun and the festival atmosphere. We strolled around the common again, bought some of the fabulous things for sale on the craft stalls, ate another crepe, supped another ale and enjoyed excellent entertainment by the Somerville Gentlemen.

Somerville Gentlemen

There was supposed to be an "informal singalong and musical jam session" in the evening at 8:00, but by 9:00 no-one had turned up to lead the event, so we left, returned to Kantara and watched a film.

We were treated to a fabulous sunset, and a beautiful, warm night. A lovely way to finish a great weekend!

IWA Festival of Water - Saturday

Saturday, and the Festival starts officially, though the official opening by the local MP doesn't happen until 1:30pm. Perhaps he just can't get up in time. Contrary to expectation, the rain, which started at around 9:00am, stopped at about 11:00, and, by the time Grace and I got out to see it all, things were almost in full swing, and the weather was OK.

We did a tour of the stalls first - several charities, CRT, IWA, RCR, crafts, clothing, "traditional" sweets which turned out to be a modern version of traditional. And there was a cheese boat and a jam and chutney boat, and a boat selling maps and other navigational aids for boaters.

Our lunch came from the Indian Street Food stall, Chicken tikka wraps, very tasty, equally difficult to eat. Other days, we tried crèpes - cheese and mushroom, and "posh veg". Really good food, all of it.

The entertainment in the marquee was day-long. Our favourites were The Chase Jazzmen playing trad jazz very competently, the Walsall Academy of Dance, children who performed with great enthusiasm and not a little talent, The Harvesters, a bluegrass ensemble, also very talented, Martin Francis, a solo folksy singer/guitarist, and the Somerville Gentlemen, who played a range of styles.

Other attractions were a fairground organ, a downscaled steam traction engine, birds of prey to handle, vintage and classic cars, a digger to drive (kids only, I was sorry to discover!) and a strolling bagpiper whom we didn't find very attractive at all.

Saturday's evening entertainment was a 4-piece band called Duchess and the Dukes who played 2½ hours of songs from the 60s to 80s. They were very good, though rather let down by the sound engineer, and by the large numbers in the audience who didn't realise that the word "audience" has a lot to do with listening, and who spent the evening shouting at each other over the band's sound system. It was just as well that the system was loud! We sang along.