Bats and Stick Insects

 

Stenson Deep Lock

Morning Jotters

Can you believe it? The dratted sun is out now!! After the greyest August on record, we are finally bathed in the warmth of glorious sunshine just as we decide to head for home. We’re dragging our feet down this last stretch, visiting our favourite moorings and lingering through the villages, reluctant to reach the marina and moor up after our long trip.

Ratcliffe Flood Lock

This week we have travelled from Loughborough to Wychnor and tonight we are moored on our favourite river mooring just outside Alrewas We ventured into Loughborough on Bank Holiday Monday and reached the basin to find that all the pontoons were full. Carl squeezed us onto the quayside, which is not really a mooring but he managed to tie up to the railings while I nipped here and there to get our supplies. I was disappointed not to get a mooring as I was looking forward to wandering into town for coffee and cake but Carl went off for milk and came back with flowers for my birthday and the day was saved. Onward towards Zouch, along the river which looks so pretty when the sun shines but is just steely and grey under the cloudy skies. We moor up and watch the wind whipping the trees along the bank and light the stove to banish the chills. A typical English Bank Holiday.

Up the Trent to Sawley

We shared the journey from Zouch to Ratcliffe with a young couple, out on their boat for the first time. They had bought the boat for a song and were gradually doing it up. I hope for their sake that it isn't a cold winter this year - it can be tricky to get the hang of keeping your stove going through the night and without that, you will wake up with icicles on your nose. Still, they are young and will soon get the hang of it or, if they don’t, the boat will be back on the market come the spring. We lost them after Ratcliffe Lock - I worried about them as we turned onto the Trent, in case they had broken down but they chugged past after we’d moored for the day at Derwent Lock and waved so I guess I’ll never know what happened to them. That’s the thing about boating partnerships, some are fleeting and leave you wanting more and some make you sigh with relief as they chug off into the distance. Today, our peace was shattered when a boat moored close by with Fog Horn Leghorn aboard. In fact, everyone on board had their volume turned up to 11 and we felt like we knew them intimately after just a few minute of listening to them discussing their boating day. We pulled the boat back several boat lengths to escape them and diluted their conversation with our music player. It was a massive relief when they set off again and our peace was restored. Their loud voices were audible long after their boat disappeared!

Sawley to Shardlow

We were up early on Wednesday and met a boat at every lock as we left Shardlow and tackled the last of the remaining broad locks up to Stenson. We stopped for coffee and cake at Swarkestone Garden Centre and while we were there, a message popped up from our friends on the Naga Queen to say they were on there way. Hurray! We celebrated with Prosecco (thanks Jean-Bean) and a nice bottle of red wine later that evening and put the world to rights while Tricky perfumed the air, overcome with joy at seeing her best pals again.

Paired up at Stenson

We planned to eat out at Stenson on Thursday night so the next morning we had a pleasant chug for all of 3 miles and one lock to the moorings by the Stenson Bubble. There was a bit of confusion about where we could sit, all the doors were open downstairs and at first we were seated in a draft by the door. I went off to check out the gin stocks and when I enquired about another table, they found us a cosy spot upstairs - I must have looked like I was going to spend my pension on their gin! It’s a few years since we visited this pub, we had our works leaving party here in 2008, and I can’t help reflecting on the happy times we have had boating since that time. We ended the night back on the Naga Queen and had so much fun we decided to have one last night with them before they had to go home. We arranged to meet the following night at bridge 25, a favourite mooring spot for them and us. 

Dinner at the Bubble

We left Stenson and chugged onward the next morning, still under grey, drizzly skies. I left Carl watering up at the services in Willington, while I trotted off to the Co-Op for supplies. There was a drama occurring outside the shop - a car had gone into the ditch and an elderly chap who was driving the crashed car was sitting on a bench, looking traumatised. The street was blocked with emergency vehicles and police and fire crew milled about while paramedics attended to the driver. A recovery vehicle turned up and as I walked back to the boat, an ‘Incident Support’ vehicle arrived with his sirens blaring, he was a bit late but maybe he was bringing the refreshments. It gladdened my heart to see that, in an emergency, the 999 response can still be relied on. 

The Captain Looking Serious

We were very sorry to part company with the Naga Queen as she slipped onto her moorings next morning and they waved us off towards Burton. The narrow locks are a joy and a delight after so long on the broad locks - a bit like taking your boots off and finding your slippers after walking a marathon. I was a teeny bit hungover after our three nights of carousing with Pat and Malc - I might have got a little carried away with the Baileys (glum faced emoji). We had planned to walk into Burton but after we’d backed onto the diesel pump in Shobnall Marina and loaded up with coal and gas supplies, we just wanted to get to Branston and call it a day. I was really looking forward to an early night but a boat arrived in after dark with searchlights blazing and immediately struck up his generator. The noise was magnified as he had chose to moor under a bridge and I hung out of the hatch listening to the racket and hoping he would soon switch off. Then the fireworks started somewhere over Branston Village so I gave up and went to find my earplugs. As I closed the hatch, I glimpsed a bat swooping along the canal, caught in the headlights of the boat behind us – wow! I wish I could capture that image – it was spooky! Every cloud, as they say.

Leaving Naga Queen on her moorings

I think this will be the final Jotting for this year and I'm looking forward to taking a break from talking to you via the blog and to be meeting up with you in real life again. See you soon, I hope.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers


ps Almost mown down by the rush of pensioners in the garden centre, we arrived just as lunch was served. Some things never change.

is this a Stick Insect?

Pps On the nature table this week is a thing that looks like a Stick Insect. It hopped aboard and kicked the ornaments off the bookcase before Carl ejected it. Have a look at the photo – what on earth is it??

Let's Have Some Cake!

Leafy Lock 

Morning Jotter

Captain Carl here on jottings duty. Hello again, dear reader. Can you believe it? We're almost into September! I have some exciting dates for you to enter into your diary for the coming month:-

3rd Sept: “Bring Your Manners To Work” Day.

9th Sept: “Buy A Vicar A Beer” Day.

19th Sept: International “Talk Like A Pirate Day”.

Looking ahead, I’m looking forward to 2nd of January, which is “Run It Up The Flagpole And See If Anyone Salutes It” Day.

Early Morning Reflections

Well, so much for the calendar. Back to boating. Last Sunday we were near Debdale Wharf on the Leicester Arm of the Grand Union Canal. We sprang into action on Monday morning, cast off, and were soon approaching Saddington tunnel. This tunnel (like the tunnels at Braunston, Crick and Husband Bosworth) is wide enough for two boats to pass. Having said that, driving a boat through the bowels of the earth without meeting a craft coming the other way is always preferable and today we were lucky – we had the tunnel to ourselves. The tow path on the other side of the tunnel had been reclaimed by Mother Nature and was no longer there. A shame for anyone who might have walked over the hill hoping to rejoin their boat on the other side.

Kibworth Top Lock

Soon after leaving the tunnel we came to Kibworth Top Lock, the first of around forty between us and Sawley, on the River Trent. These are all wide locks and quite heavy work. Usually, wives, girlfriends or mistresses deal with locks. I don’t know why, but there it is. Husbands, boyfriends or paramours are delegated to merely piloting the boat. Linda is no exception to the rule and I often feel guilty, standing at the tiller of the Lady Aberlour, watching Linda heaving on the heavy gates but she insists that's her job!

Down in the Depths of Freeman's Lock

An empty lock chamber is a gloomy place. Dripping walls, strange plants hanging from the bricks and outlandish shrimp-like things squirming here and there. Then the pounding of water as the paddles are raised and the chamber begins to fill. Slowly the boat rises up, buffeted by the sudden turbulence. Eventually the swirling currents subside and the lock is full. The last bit in a nutshell: gate opens, boat comes out, paddles are lowered, gate closed again and crew back on board. Job done. We're always happy to see a boat approaching so we can leave the gates open!

Pound overflowing into the lock.

A few weeks ago I would have called the next paragraph a rant. However, seeing what’s happening in Afghanistan, I am reminded of how fortunate I am to be living in England. It would be shameful of me to moan and whinge about petty irrelevances. So the next section is a mere 'observation'.

We've noticed that many parts of the canal network are showing a general air of neglect. Locks crying out for maintenance, paddle-gear broken and gates leaking like sieves. The navigation choked with rushes, reeds and overhanging trees. Protruding brick/stonework by narrow bridges, obscured by brambles and saplings. Some tow-paths totally overgrown, impassable and abandoned; the list goes on. The demise is evident for mile after mile of canal. Maybe this is some sort of “rewilding”. While the concept is admirable, people could be forgiven for thinking that its just an excuse to do nothing, save money and let the canals slowly become silted-up weedy ditches...

Just room to squeeze through!

After travelling through Leicester we arrived in Birstall, where we moored just above Birstall lock. It’s a lovely mooring here, the cutting to one side and the Water Park on the other. Shops are close by, so its a really handy place to stop. There was a social vibe going on, too; on Wednesday afternoon we met up with some friends of ours, Jan and Keith, and enjoyed a couple of hours chatting, drinking coffee and eating some delicious home made cake (thank you Jan!). Coincidently, the next morning was international “see Keith And Jan Again, Enjoy Some Good Company, And Have Some More Coffee And Delicious Cake” Day. So that’s what we did. It was nice to “catch up”.

Birstall Mooring

On Friday, Jean and Eric came over for a visit. The subject of a cruise was broached, put to the vote and, being a unanimous result, we threw the lines off and made our way downstream to Thurmaston. There are nice picnic moorings through Thurmaston lock, but unfortunately they were all taken. Heading further downstream for half a mile we found a secluded place to tie up for lunch. “What’s this?” I thought to myself. Yes, Jean had baked an apple cake! I’ve been thoroughly spoiled. Home made cake for the third day in a row. Living the dream, eh? We had an enjoyable afternoon walking around a nearby lake and finding a handy ice cream van to round off the day. Both Jean and Eric are keen walkers and walked back to their car after tea rather than us take them back on the boat, which was nice of them as it would have been a tight spot to turn in. We'd noticed a gang of youths showing an unhealthy interest in our boat, gawping through our windows as they swaggered by. I didn’t he look of them so as soon as Jean and Eric left, we cast off and found a more “secure feeling” mooring a couple of miles further down the river. Better safe than sorry.

Carl in the Weed Hatch

We were up with a late lark on Saturday morning and wasted no time in getting underway. The weather was disappointing, as it has been most of this week. Cloudy and chilly. We were hoping to moor at Sileby Milll, around two miles and three locks away. Linda got us though Junction, Cossington and Sileby Mill locks and, as luck would have it, there was just space for us to squeeze in behind a wide-beam boat. Phew, close call folks. Then the sun came out and brightened things up.

Sileby Mill 

Jim and Elaine, the last of this week’s visitors, arrived yesterday afternoon and we spent several very pleasant hours drinking tea, walking along the riverbank, chatting and laughing. An extremely nice pizza, followed by cheese and biscuits and strawberries for tea. Before we knew it, it was time for our last visitors to leave. Sad face emoji. We left Sileby Mill just after 09.00 this morning and cruised down the river to Bridge 34, which is handy for Loughborough tomorrow and a “big shop”. Next week we will be back on the Trent and Mersey, heading for our new home mooring at Kings Bromley. Linda will be back on the keyboard as I expect it will be the last jotting for a while.

Bye for now, love from

The Floating Chandlers

ps Entertainment this week was provided by numerous day boats let out along the Soar to terrorise everyone with their antics.  We were very happy to moor up and hope that we were safe in the lee of the wide beam behind us.

Lovely Lilies

Spreading along the Soar - escaped from a pond and becoming a weed

Last rays of sun

The Locks are deep along here

Tricky is happy to stop for lunch

Down in the weed hatch again!

Autumn Fields

Paddle broken - awaiting a repair

Heron by the Soar

Floating Debris by Lime Kiln Lock

Graffiti or Art?

North Lock

Blue Lips and Sour Dough

Foxton Locks - Passing Place

Morning Jotters

Are you feeling a bit Mondayish? I will never get over the joy and wonder of waking up on a Monday morning with a whole new week of boating ahead. Whatever the weather, we’re chugging along, never in a hurry and with no particular destination in mind. This week we've travelled from the ‘green man’ mooring near Husbands Bosworth, down the locks at Foxton, stayed a few days in Market Harborough and now we’re tucked in between the reeds, on our way to Saddington and the long descent through Leicester to the River Soar. Get the kettle on Jan - we’re coming your way!

Wet Morning

We timed our arrival at Foxton to perfection, arriving just as the locks opened and we were first in the queue to go down the 10 locks. There was time for Carl to fill up with water while we waited and I nipped to the Top Lock Cafe for refreshments for the Captain to eat on the way down and something for me, for later. It only takes a couple of hours to work down these pretty locks, they are easy to wind and I had plenty of willing volunteers to help open and close the gates. There was a bit of a wait whilst a paddle was repaired (something jammed in the mechanism) and I passed the time by chatting to a group of paramedics, who were on a break from a training course nearby. They had been weeks into their initial training when Covid arrived and were thrown in at the deep end, training abandoned, to do the best they could. Only now were they finally able to pick up their training again, still smiling and making light of their efforts. What a great bunch of people.

Steerer's View

We slipped onto a mooring right by the Foxton Locks Inn and had a great view of the procession of boats coming in and out of the basin - it’s very entertaining when you’re tied up securely and watching the fun. It was a nice day and the pub garden was busy with holiday makers so it wasn’t our usual peaceful mooring but handy for staggering home later that evening after meeting our friends Richard and Mel for dinner.  Eating out has been a bit of a theme this week - we found a nice place in Market Harborough where the jacket potatoes were oven crisp and the waitress brought Tricky a bowl of water before she even took our order. Not quite up to ‘Ginger Fox’ standards (I hope they are open again in Bourne) Tricky gets a sausage there. 

New Bed for Tricky

There was a boat on the best mooring spot when we arrived in Market Harborough but we kept watch until they moved off and jumped right in it. Most of the visitor moorings are in the shade along here but there is just this one spot that gets the full sun. Carl put up the panels and we donned our rucksacks and wandered down into the town, to stock up on our supplies. It has taken two days to get everything we need, Tricky has a new bed, Carl has a new coat, I bought a bunch of birthday cards then realised I’m too late to post them ( Happy Birthday Terry, Gloria and Emma - sorry you didn’t get a card in the post but I was thinking about you!). The fridge is full again and I topped up the ‘Treat’ tin with Penguins. I only found out yesterday that Penguins are just bourbons dipped in chocolate. I don’t know why I thought you might be interested in that nugget of information, maybe everyone else knew this already and its just me. We feasted on salmon and fresh raspberries to make up for earlier in the week when the best I could do was Meaty Eggs (scrambled eggs with spam chopped up and mixed in). We were just collecting milk from the Co-op when I got a message to say Ian and Di were nearby and could they call in. Of course they could and we hurried back to the boat to tidy up so they wouldn’t be shocked by the sight of my underwear airing on the curtain rails. After a cuppa and a catch up, we went over to the Waterfront, a very nice restaurant right on Union Wharf. We had a ring side seat to watch a group of paddle boarders practising in the basin. It was a warm evening for their lesson which was fortunate as they spent more time in the water than balancing on their boards.

The Waterfront Restaurant, Market Harborough

We set out early from Market Harborough the next morning and it wasn’t until I went down below to make our morning coffee, that I discovered I had forgotten the bread. Carl does like a boiled egg with a slice of fresh brown bread for his breakfast on Sundays and I could only find the remains of a decidedly dry loaf in the cupboard. We were just coming into Foxton so we tied up and I hurried off to catch the bus back to Market Harborough - I couldn’t let the Captain go without his Sunday egg! I puffed my way up the hill from the swing bridge and looked along the road for the bus stop sign. Wait a minute! what’s that sign say? ‘Fresh Artisan Bread’. I could hardly believe my eyes - a bakery here in Foxton. When did that happen? I trotted down the road and found a delightful couple running a tea room and bakery called ‘The Stables’ just by the Black Horse pub. They had fresh bread, scones, baguettes, sourdough loaves, rolls, cakes and cookies, jars of marmalade and jam - all home made and very delicious. I lingered over a cappuccino and chatted to the baker and his wife and went home with a nice fresh loaf, still warm and a couple of baguettes too. It was a very wet afternoon so we settled in the cabin for a lazy afternoon with our books, only venturing our later in the evening when the sky cleared.

The Stables Artisan Bakery

This morning, we left Foxton and turned down the Leicester arm and found a ‘one boat’ mooring in amongst the reeds. It's another wet afternoon and I’m tapping away in the cabin with Tricky snores away in her new bed by my feet. Carl is doing something Spanish on his ukulele, but the sound is drowned out by the rain drumming n the roof again.  I’m hoping the weather picks up again this week for our trip, I’m not quite ready to get my winter boots out.

That’s all for this week my friends, I’ll write again soon.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

Ps it was my turn to make a sacrifice to the Canal Gods this week. I dropped the long handled sweeping brush into the canal, while I was washing the cobwebs off the tunnel lamp. I walked to the back of the boat to get the boat hook to fish it out with but by the time I got back, the hollow handle had filled with water and it had sunk. I fished and fished but it was gone for good.

In amongst the reeds

Pps Met a man painting his boat on the moorings in Market Harborough. He was wearing an Ipod and headphones as he slapped on the navy blue paint with brush and roller. I was fascinated by his navy blue lips and the splashes of navy blue covering his iPod and headset. The boat looked a treat when he'd finished but I couldn't help wondering how he got the stain off his lips!

Bridge view

Sunny morning

Leaving Foxton

Dull Day at Foxton

Nice mooring by the Foxton Locks Inn

Mooring overlooking the valley

Here's the View

Is this a Mottled Beauty moth?

Boat Jam and Pickled Onions

 

Watford Locks

Morning Jotters

Don’t you just love a rainy Monday morning?  We got up late, pottered around, drinking coffee and watching the procession of boats passing us by.  Pat and Malc were still moored next door and neither of us were in a hurry to move so it was early afternoon before we waved goodbye to them as they set off towards Napton.  The sun came out and the boat traffic thinned out a bit so we set off too, heading towards Braunston.  We were picking up our visitors, Ian and Di, the next morning for a cruise towards Rugby, a picnic lunch and an slow chug back for dinner at ‘The Boat House’. What could possibly go wrong!

Working Pair at Braunston

We were all shipshape and ready for inspection on Tuesday morning when our guests arrived, loaded with goodies (home made bread and pickled onions, home grown rhubarb, lettuce and tomatoes - yummy).  We set off up the towpath towards the marina and had breakfast in the little garden by the Gongoozlers Rest - bacon butties never tasted so good!  Back down the towpath and it’s ‘All aboard the Skylark’ for our little jaunt.  Carl and Ian stood ready to cast off, but there was a constant stream of boats coming by, making it difficult to get going.  I walked to the next  bridge to see what was coming and waved them on when there was a suitable gap and hopped on as they glided by. Finally! We’re off! Except we were stuck behind a  Black Prince boat, who sounded like he was flat out but was crawling along at a snails pace.  I went up front and called to them that they had something on their prop.  It took a bit of sign language to get them to give it hard reverse, to try to clear their prop but eventually, they gave up and pulled over.  Carl knocked the throttle up a gear and we raced by (if you can call 4mph racing).  The next boat we came up behind was tootling along on tick over and with so many boats coming the other way, we had no option but to follow behind - it seemed like a very long 5 miles to our destination - the winding hole just before Hillmorton Locks. We hoped to make better progress going back but we soon caught up with another BOTO (Boat On TickOver) and crawled along behind him too.  I had planned to moor at Olney on the way back, for a lazy picnic lunch but by the time we turned, it was way past lunchtime.  We ate as we cruised along in the sunshine and arrived back in Braunston just as a convenient mooring spot was vacated, that was lucky.  We rounded the day off with supper in the Boat House pub and it was the perfect end to a lovely day.  Come back soon Ian and Di and don’t forget the pickled onions!  

Ian and Di are glad to be back on dry land!

I couldn’t wait to get going on Wednesday morning, we slipped off before anyone was up, past the Gongoozler's Rest and started up the Braunston broad locks before Zoe Ball started her screeching.  There was a work boat at the top of the locks and a gang of workers chatting and supping tea - not much work going on there!  We plunged into the depths of Braunston tunnel and Carl threshed along at 14 thousand revs (I know this because I was sitting under the hatch with only the instrument panel and Tricky for company).  It was all going so well until we got to Watford Locks!  A queue of boats stretched ahead of us and disappeared around the corner, we were 6th in line and would be waiting here until the 6 boats already on their way down from the top, got through.  I set off up the locks with my windlass and made myself useful, opening and closing paddles and gates to help the boats down so that we could get up the locks before they closed.  Boating in the summertime does have its disadvantages and Boat Jams are one of them.  We didn't mind the waiting, it was a pleasant couple of hours chatting to passing boaters and the very busy Volunteers.  They were buzzing up and down, directing operations, working the locks and still managing to smile.  A couple of them were painting the marker posts and it looked like hard work with all their protective gear on.  I reflected to myself that the unpaid volunteers seemed to be working much harder than the paid ones.  Once we'd got to the top, we pressed on through Crick tunnel and found miles of free mooring by the marina and settled in for a cosy evening, disturbed only by the very occasional boat passing by.  A far cry from Braunston where we were continually getting clattered as boats tried to pass us – that will teach us to moor by the water point! More painting for Carl.

Early start 

The summit pound from Watford to Crick is very rural and, because of the restrictions on the lock opening hours, not too busy.  We have dallied along from one idyllic mooring to the next, enjoying the cooler weather and the noticeable changing of the seasons, as autumn approaches.  The hedges are speckled with blackberries, not yet ripe but promising their juicy sweetness in a few weeks.  The fields are busy with machinery as the farmers race to gather in the harvest, leaving behind giant rolls of straw and stubble fields thick with black crows. I love the long summer days but already I am looking forward to the cosy evenings, when we light the stove and hunker down with our books and a glass of something warming.

Braunston Top Lock

We should be arriving in Market Harborough sometime this week, its one of our favourite canals and we will probably be spending a couple of weeks floating around between Foxton and the town moorings. Carl has some rust to banish and I have brass to polish ( it has been sadly neglected and I am put to shame after visiting Naga Queen - their brass and copper gleamed!)

Have a great week and I’ll be back soon with more Hedgerow Jottings

Take Care

The Floating Chandlers

Ps We do see some great boat names and the prize this week goes to ‘Filthy Oar’. A beautiful boat with a memorable name.

Gongoozler's Rest

Pps Their are some great holiday cottages on the canal but the most memorable must be the Crooked Cottage on the Braunston Locks.  I can never resist taking a photo every time we pass by.

The Crooked Cottage

Ppps Met the very talented Charlotte, who runs a pair of working boats and sells her painted wares along the way.  Thanks for my ‘Blackbird’ Charlotte - I hope we meet again somewhere along the way.

Charlottes Arts

Poor little fella didn't survive

Love this Cottage at Norton Junction

Peacock Butterfly in the sunshine

Watford Staircase Locks

Nice to meet this happy band of Volunteers