Jemma slips into the canal and not for the first time.

Poor Jem managed to slip into the canal on a Sunday cruise up to Whaley Bridge. She was in such a rush to get to the bank, that the gang plank tipped her into the air and then into the cut. Several people rushed to help but she amazed us by swimming with confidence. In spite of her arthritis, her back legs seemed to work perfectly in the water. First mate was just about to leap in after her but Captain calmly pulled her out by the scruff of the neck. She weighs quite a bit already but given the gallons of water clinging to her coat, this was a feat of strength. She had spent the weekend with little Lucy who was most upset by this incident. She kept saying "Jemma's alright?" and we kept repeating "Yes she's fine. She can swim."

We had had a lovely weekend which included a trip on the tiny train round Buxton's Victorian park, a cruise up the Peak Forest Canal to Whaley Bridge and a very good lunch at the Pear Tree Cafe. We even managed to eat outside in the sunshine. Jem has already forgotten all about it and is none the worse for the experience. At least it wasn't Lucy who went in. But more care is needed with Jem as she can't really see that well and she seems to misjudge the gap between boat and tow path quite frequently. That said, for an old lady who has only recently taken up narrow boating, she's doing OK.

There is progress on the shower room. We have a new sink which will give us space for a heated towel radiator and a bit more floor space. Captain has done a great job custom-building the cupboard out of old bits of recovered Ash paneling and a door that we removed to make space for the multi-fuel. We are hoping that the room will start to function by adding a new corner mirror cabinet, and couple of new lights.It was so dimly lit in there that Captain was shaving blind.  Hopefully, he will now be able to see, and will lose the lop-sided beard.

Crises in confidence and moments of inspiration

Our captain's fastidious research into the canals that never were and his explanation of why we can't get to Sheffield in under two weeks, reminds me of why we bought Lucy B. It was October when we made this reckless purchase having never set foot on a narrow boat before. Shoot first and ask questions later. Why wait until Spring to hire one and then pay around £1000 for a wet week to find out if it works out?  Once such a daft idea forms in our heads, it's unwise to risk a cooling off period in case good sense prevails.

 But Lucy Belle was never going to be just the mental and physical challenge which the journey home delivered in spades. It was always meant to be inspirational too. I can see a book about all this canal stuff some day. It could actually happen. I had high hopes of re-kindling a love of painting but this probably won't happen because gazing out the window is a default choice over risking failure. And then of course there is the all-consuming nature of boating which I hadn't reckoned on. It's cruise, eat and sleep. I am not short of inspiration. Everything I have seen so far has offered a moment of wonder - even the Dickensian marshes of the river Soar in flood dominated by the giant edifice of Ratcliffe power station puthering out miles of acid-rain. There were lots of live aboards on these muddy banks and I feared for their safety and was awed by their ability to survive such a harsh environment. So it's hardly been all weeping willows and meadow.  We have passed by so many things that you just would never see. The artist in me responds to this. It just may stay as a cerebral experience for now. I am taking it all in. Storing it all up.

The inspirational moments are matched by crises in confidence that all the Captain's arty plans and drawings may stay as just that. I experienced a motivational dip last Sunday when even putting a print up of the Cheshire Ring proved almost impossible because of the sloping steel. It took over an hour to do what should have taken 10 minutes max. Have we bitten off more than we can chew with this boat? Surely not? Not the dream team of fixers? A nagging thought persists that the boat will become a black hole for time, money and labour instead of the inspirational pursuit it was meant to be. In reality we have to accept that it will be both, for a while at least, until its made into something we feel is ours. The list of jobs seems to grow faster than anything that can reasonably be achieved. The boat will get older and may deteriorate faster than we can enact its preservation.  It is easy to get distracted by other more pristine boats. Lucy Belle has been through the wars on the way to Furness Vale and she will always be a boat with an Italian feel for life. That is, with plenty of scrapes and scratches. We have always admired the Italians for their lack of preciousness about their cars. Cars are for bouncing off the walls in the narrowest of streets, wine is for drinking not counting units, pasta for eating huge bowls of. We will keep this spirit even when she is eventually repainted. We are learning that no job is straightforward and that things take a long time. With tiny spaces, sloping sides, the watery world of narrow boating makes even fixing window coverings a challenge. And, does anyone have any brilliant ways of securing wooden blinds so they don't hang away from the windows at the bottom? I see plenty of other boats with them.

The sketch above is one of many. I began to think that we would never solve the problems of how to fit any standard bathroom fittings in to our tiny shower room. I know what our new friend Sarah's Jim would say - it's a boat not a house! But... this is an ex-hire boat and even purists might forgive me for trying to stamp out the hire-boatiness. The Canaltime fleet were built to work - and they do. There is no way I am messing with the layout or cooker or anything that is perfectly serviceable but the kitchen sink, work tops and sanitary fittings are at least 11 years old and have seen scores of users. I have a ridiculously glamorous and impractical vision for the shower room. It involves walnut flooring and cream and black tiles, a sort of Orient Express wash room. Will it happen? Probably not with cheap-as-chips, and frankly shoddy, fittings from IKEA. A girl has to dream. You have to have a dream.

The Grand Commercial Canal

Reading Sarah’s blog about the Sheffield and Tinsley canal about how abandoned it seemed and how little used it is, got me thinking about how different it would undoubtedly be if Sheffield Basin was not a “dead end” but was a through route. Now by car (or train) we live about 30 minutes from Sheffield, but to get our boat from Furness Vale would take around a fortnight (111 miles and 149 locks CanalPlan says). Actually at our usual pace, it would be much longer than that.

But there were, in the nineteenth century, various proposals to connect Sheffield by canal with Manchester. The first of these came in 1813 from a Mr Chapman. His idea was to leave Sheffield along the Sheaf valley, rising 440 feet in 6 miles. Then, at Strawberry Lea, the canal would enter a 2 ¾ mile tunnel, emerging at Padley Mill, near Grindleford. The canal would then join the proposed “High Peak Junction Canal” which in turn would join the Peak Forest canal at Bugsworth. The route proposed is almost identical to the Hope Valley railway line (apart from the Bugsworth end where the canal was to drop down quite quickly).

See Google Books for full text

Nothing became of this proposal, and it was not until 1824 that "The Grand Commercial Canal" was proposed by Joseph Hazlehurst. Again he would join onto the planned route of the High Peak Junction Canal near Grindleford/Padley (although the High Peak Junction Canal proposal, connecting Cromford to Bugsworth, was pretty well abandoned by this time), but then his route differed: The canal would enter a tunnel which would emerge much further south and take the canal past his own colliery at Unstone, and from there the canal would climb around a hundred feet, before descending into Sheffield.

There were further proposals in 1824: James Dean ambitiously proposed not only linking Manchester, and Sheffield, but also linking this canal to Chesterfield, via a branch near Dronfield, and then linking the Chesterfield Branch to the Cromford Canal via a branch between Cutthorpe and Pentrich. His Sheffield to Manchester canal revised the route from Bugsworth, keeping the canal lower, and the two tunnels much longer. He also called this The Grand Commercial Canal and there is more information on his proposed canals on this blog.

From The New Monthly Magazine, 1824

In the same year Thomas Telford joined the growing band of engineers to propose an idea. But this was very different. His canal would connect Sheffield and Manchester via a much more northerly route, following the course of the River Don, west out of Sheffield, and then the course of the River Etherow. This is roughly the routes of the A616 and A628 (Woodhead Pass). This canal was to join the Peak Forest Canal much nearer to Manchester, at Hyde Bridge (No 6). Telford's canal would have been cheaper to build, but in avoiding the longer expensive tunnels resulted in a canal of 39 ½ miles with 146 locks!

None of these proposals came to anything. Writing in 1826 Sanderson suggests that most of these proposals would have cost over £400,000, and with an estimated annual income of around £20,000 it is easy to see why this was unattractive to investors.

Shame though. It would have been nice to get to Sheffield in under a fortnight.

Uses for a Lifebuoy

When we bought Lucy Belle, it came with a Lifebuoy (or is it a life ring?) tied on the roof just behind the tunnel light. "What use is it there," I was asked, "I mean, how would I get to it if I needed it?" This was a good question. Perhaps it was tied there as it was considered of little use, but then again, maybe the same person thought they ought to keep it? I don't know,

Now being a little short of space on our 45 foot boat, we are always delighted when we find a dual use for something. Now we haven't made a lot of progress in putting this thinking into practice, but we have used wine and coal as ballast, and we do have an idea for a bathroom door that also doubles up as a corridor door (although this idea is very much at the folded beer mat stage.)

So the Lifebuoy was moved to sit on top of the main door hatch. This means that in the event that we need to deploy it - we can actually reach it.

But more importantly it has become a safe and secure place from which items cannot fall into the cut. It has been use for sandwiches, buns, tea, coffee, phones, books, keys, gloves, hats ... just about anything really.

And here is a photograph taken last weekend when we briefly sat out under the stars. The lifebuoy was again used to keep our valuables safe and secure.

The Work Begins

Lucy Belle (we will paint out the old name Florence one day - honest) has been on her home mooring (at Furness Vale) for a fortnight now. The initial beaching on a bank of silt seems to have improved. Things got better when the canal level went up almost 2 inches, but since then the canal has dropped again. However, a couple of trips out - coupled with liberal use of the propeller, has definitely improved the situation.

Her first trip out from Furness Vale was last Tuesday - just to The Navigation at Bugsworth. It was a reward for changing two of the engine mountings by lunchtime. With the invaluable help of a neighbour, Rod, the engine mountings, one of which our surveyor had identified as "weak," were removed and replaced. The engine was aligned nicely with the transmission, and by noon, we were on our way to Bugsworth. The engine mounting proved to be in rather worse condition than "weak" and the source of the annoying tapping noise that had been irritating us since we bought the boat, was revealed when the mounting was removed in two pieces. The other two engine mountings will be swapped in the next couple of weeks.

New deck boards have also been made - as there is a real danger that the existing crumbly ones might give Jemma a closer view of the gearbox than she might want! This weekend though we needed diesel, coal and a pump out, and we arranged to meet Brian and Anne Marie of Alton along the Peak Forest Canal. We tied this in with an overnight near the Strines (Strines near Marple) and popped down to The Sportsman and The Royal Oak. On Sunday morning we waited for Alton. It was worth it: what they have on that boat is amazing!

Now, at home we are big fans of the "home delivery". And living 20 minutes and £5.00 of diesel from the nearest supermarket - it makes a lot of sense (to both time and pocket). It struck me that Alton is just the same: they come to you. Why would I want to to carry bags of coal from goodness knows where, when Anne Marie can just throw them on our boat?

Next (apart from 2 more engine mountings) is a new bathroom. The sink arrived on Saturday, so all hands below deck!

Just when you think you're home and dry....

We woke to a diamond last day on Lucy Belle. We were tied up in open countryside. As with most of the Macclesfield canal it is fairly shallow and mooring tight alongside can be difficult. However Jemma's new plank had the opportunity to be used in anger. We even opened the side hatch for the first time and the back cabin was dappled with sunlight. The ducks were very polite even when tempted by Hovis biscuits.

The cruising went smoothly as did the 2 swing bridges and 2 lift bridges. As we approached our mooring, a casual remark about it being an easy one to moor at, was ill timed. 

We went on to struggle for an hour trying to bring her alongside the jetty. The boat was beached and feet away from the landing. It was a good job our neighbour, the appropriately named 'Muddy Water' wasn't around as we doused their boat with months of silt. Lucy Belle just churned it all up but wouldn't shift. It took brute force and rope to get her near. 

Lucy Belle at Furness Vale

I suppose this might be because no one has been on that mooring for 6 months now, and she remains about a foot away from the tyres. I am hoping 'nature' will sort it out, but any advice (that does not involve waders) would be appreciated.

Jem had really started to settle in to life afloat in the last 2 days especially with no locks. She looked quite proud as walked up and down the gang plank. And she clearly enjoyed the ever changing tow path sniffs.  But she was upset by all the revving up and shouting. When we finally got the boat near enough to get a gang plank down, she slipped into the water and had to be pulled out. 

The unpredictability of boating will continue to keep us on our toes and, hopefully, Jem on all four paws.

Pavlov's Duck

Some startling conclusions are making themselves known as I sit musing over a glass of vintage cava, the remains of tapas, admiring a blood-orange sun as it dips down over the surrounding hills: ducks know that narrowboats mean someone might feed them, if you spend most of the day sailing into a freezing wind then your face explodes when you warm up too quickly, that my broad muscular shoulders (useful as they are at moving 12 foot lock gates) probably mean that my family is descended from navvies, that I now have permanent hat hair and look exactly like my brother Keith, that Macclesfield has a very good Italian restaurant called Fino where you can lunch and get away from wearing fleece, that even here we spend way too much time looking at smart phones and tapping tiny keyboards, that in 15 days I have read nothing, written only 2 pages of journal and managed no drawing or painting, that all I have done is cruise, battle the elements, learned to steer, eat, drink and sleep like a log, that this simple agenda is satisfying especially aboard the cosy and comfortable Lucy Belle. I can only speak for myself, of course, Jem may have a different story. The Captain will have to come to his own conclusions.

God willing, tomorrow should bring more sailing headlong into gusting wind as we head for our home mooring in Furness Vale.

Flying up Bosley

The Captain was ordering his first beer in the splendid Sutton Hall bar, a manor house and former convent, when he occasioned a passing remark about his glowing phizzhog. The bar man asked if we'd been in another country. Only Cheshire, we replied.

A full day of sun and high winds made the ascent through the 12 locks of the Bosley flight quite interesting. In the end, we figured  that the only way to make any progress was to keep going at speed; one of us running between locks to avoid Lucy Belle being pinned against the bank by the high winds. It was quite a marathon.

The countryside changed as we moved closer towards Macclesfield with familiar high peaks and gentle farmland. We badly needed a tea stop and somewhere for Jem to stretch out after banging off the sides of the narrowest locks in the country.

We tied up in a tranquil, sunny spot at a lovely mooring just down from the Fool's Nook. The pub said it was "currenty closed due to flooding". Curious. This was our planned dinner stop  but it looked flyblown.

We pressed on to Sutton Lane where we are tied up for the night. We had yet more excitement with an electric swingbridge and a jammed manual swingbridge. Luckily, we met young adventurers on their way to Leeds. It took all 4 of us to get out of trouble. There always seems to be something unexpected to foul your plans on the water. But, all in all, it turned out to be gorgeous day and evening for us.

Not so good for Jemma who endured a solid 2.5 hours of lock mania and managed to fall down the steps into Lucy Belle's saloon.  Although shaken, she has since stirred, and is now stretched out in front of a roaring stove having her ears rubbed. So we are hoping she'll recover. Tomorrow we meander slowly homeward towards Furness Vale. We plan to have an easier day with visits to Macclesfield, Bollington and our last sleepover in High Green.

Robin Hood, Buglawton

Easy day. Through Congleton to Buglawton. Bosley flight tomorrow.

Hair raising Harecastle

Today brought fresh challenges. After a temporary sigh of relief that we hadn't been murdered in our bed by Stoke druggies. We had tied up in a beautiful but very remote urban landscape. All we had encountered outside our Festival Park mooring were some peace loving ducks and perfectly decent people cycling, jogging and walking their dogs (in truth we expected nothing else).

We met Chrissie and Chris outside the Middleport Pottery (Burleigh) after buying some black willow pattern pieces for Lucy Belle. A nice souvenir of our trip. They cruised with us as far as the Harecastle tunnel. Convinced this would be the last time they saw us, they waved bye bye as we disappeared into the 2 mile pitch black tunnel. Jemma crouched inside, similarly sure of our certain deaths.

"You made it?" Chrissie said when I phoned her. She sounded surprised and maybe just a little disappointed.

We are not easily scared or impressed but Brindley was both mad and a genius to concieve of this method of conveyance. We've passed through the Panama Canal and it is equivalent in skill and daring.

The one foot lock just outside Congleton seemed tame. Our neighbours from Littonslack were kind enough to bring wine and emergency tea bags. We had a lovely dinner with them in The Rising Sun in Scholars Green. We are promised a modest lie in tomorrow.