Moving on from Etruria

Moving on from Etruria

June 2014

After a frantic weekend at the Etruria Festival we took our leave on Monday morning, saying goodbye to Barry and Sandra who will be heading north and out of our radius for a couple of months till me meet up again in September at the Black Country Boating Festival.

Goodbye for a couple of months! (selfie)

I always find it odd when a festival dissipates. One minute its all there and the next everyone has dribbled away and suddenly you find yourself the only boat / tent on the ground.

And so we set off north, returning to base "the long way round" via Middlewich and Nantwich. No matter how many times we pass through the Harecastle Tunnel its always a bit of an event. This time the tunnel keeper handed us the usual instruction sheet and given the tragedy last week I made sure Helen was aware of the alarm code should anything go wrong. Of course, all went well and we were soon passing through Red Bull Junction and into the top end of Wheelock Hill.

Rode Heath

Steady progress was made and we ended up in Rode Heath where we met something of a Roving Traders convention - The Justina and Mark (Rosette Boat) who are a victim of their own success, Vapours and another boat selling canal craft nick nacks. Whilst we didnt open for business we did have some jam on the roof which was purchased by a boat following us down - all seven jars of it!

Justina, Mark and their dog just before my windlass hit him! Sorry.....

The second day of our travels took us to Wheelock for lunch where the horesboat Maria was moored and we paused in the Cheshire Cheese where we had a pub lunch washed down with a pint of Hydes Ale. Not a bad little waterside watering hole if you are in the area.

Jacqueline - Ducks 2 Water

Then its was on to Middlewich and into the Middlewich Branch via the diminutive Wardle Canal. Having looked at the weather forecast we ditched the plan to visit the Weaver and settled on a more relaxed trip back so stopped early mooring just in front of Jacqueline on Ducks 2 Water.

Caldon 2010 - Wheelock to Nantwich

Caldon 2010

Wheelock to Nantwich

4th November 2010

20 miles - 9 locks - 8 hours

The forecasts predicted heavy rain but thankfully it all fell overnight. I woke several times to hear the rain drumming on the roof, but by a small miracle the last squall passed over at dawn and held off all day. We had grey skies all day with a constant promise of better things to the south west, but we never quite made it to the brighter lands on the horizon.

Middlewich canalscape

Yesterday's solitude was maintained as we made our way north along the Trent and Mersey and into Middlewich. We were two hours into the Middlewich Branch before we met another craft, a Middlewhich Cruisers hireboat hurrying back to base. The area around Middlewich used to be home to some sizeable chemical works but sadly these have now closed and we are left with yet another empty plate of concrete with a huge cairn of rubble in the middle. A sad sight repeated all round the system these days. The altered empty building rate relief policy has a lot to answer for.

Lost industry at Middlewich

One benefit of late autumn cruising is the scope for views that are usually obscured by foliage. This length of the Middlewich Branch canal crosses many small deep valleys which are choked with trees. Suddenly, we were able to peer down into these grottos, each complete with a  little beck running through a carefully monitored culvert. This is all agonising stuff for an aqueduct hunter - which of those flights of steps lead to a dull culvert and which lead to an aqueduct?. Its impossible to tell.

Autumn on the Middlewich Branch Canal

We stopped off at Venetian Marina for a much needed pump out (10 days cruising since the last one) who charged a reasonable £15 including Blue. One snag of cold weather cruising is kindling. We need a fire every day and whilst we carry a good supply of fuel we always run out of kindling and resort to scavenging to replenish our stocks. Jeff made the sensible observation "Why don't we have an axe on board to let us split logs into kindling?" The boy's got a point and a quick foray into the chandlery yielded one serviceable and axe for the princely sum of £8.50.

Escaped pig at Minshull Lock

Then it was on to Barbridge Junction as the light started to fail, continuing beneath Hurleston Locks and on to Nantwich, mooring up about 8 hours after we started. With just a glimmer of sunset left we undertook the first half of the end of season service, extracting the still hot engine oil and replacing the oil and air filters. I would have liked to replaced the small drive belt which is so stretched and thin that it squeals for the first two minutes of each day till it warms up enough to stick. However, by then it was so gloomy I couldn't see the nuts so left it for another day.

Juliana at Barbridge Junction - another classic from Taylors of Chester

It wasn't a great photographic day as it was far too grey to bring out the colours.

South Pennine Ring - Nantwich to Barnton

South Pennine Ring - Nantwich to Barnton

30th March 2009

Shropshire Union, Middlewich Branch and Trent & Mersey

25 Miles

8 Locks

9 Hours

We set off past Nantwich, flying over the rooftops of "executive" housing which has been built alongside the embankment. Unusual carved wooden object have been erected every few hundred yards along the towpath, mostly small and difficult to make out from a distance but the final one, opposite Nantwich Marina, is a stunning full sized representation of a shire horse. Truly magnificent.

Just before this statue is the home of Empress Holidays and their fleet of very dated narrowboats. I hope they they are cheap because they look like an aquatic version of Pontins in the jaded, gone to seed1970's! Certain to disappoint.

From Nantwich the bridges broaden out to reflect the widebeam status of the waterway. Even the channel feels wider and deeper, allowing the boat to pick up speed and clip along at a good pace as we pass Hurleston Junction, gateway to the west. Hurleston is guarded by high earthen banks which hold the reservoirs of drinking water for the people of Nantwich and Crewe. From a boaters perspective they look more like a modern take on an iron age hill fort.

Belle decided that this would be a good opportunity to do a spot of running, and after taking instructions to turn left at Barbridge, she jogged off into the distance. We chugged along, past the many moored craft, turning left onto the 9 mile Middlewich Branch Canal, cutting across the grain of the land which a regular series of embankments over steep ravines and then cuttings through sharp ridges. With no sight of Belle for several miles I began to wonder if she was pounding her way towards Chester and came to a stop, wondering at what stage I should worry and think about turning round. Thankfully, just as I came to a stop she emerged round a bend in front of me and huffed and puffed her way back on board - all flushed with exertion.

The branch canal may have only four locks, but they built them deep - three descend eleven feet or more.

nb Hurcules

We encountered feverish activity in the cutting before Bridge 6, with both BW and the Shropshire Union Canal Society hard at work. BW were trimming back the undergrowth and using a wood chipper to fire the trimmings into nb Hercules. Sadly the chipper was angled wrongly and more chips were being blown into the canal than the hold! I suppose it makes unloading easier... Meanwhile the canal society, on a small flotilla of narrowboats were busy building a lovely picnic area complete with tables and chairs on concrete plinths. They were doing a great job, as they have done up and down the whole Shroppie over the years.


Church Minsull sports the brand new "Aqueduct marina, all bare and new, but surprisingly full of boats.

Lunchtime brought us to the hurly burly of Middlewich complete with a gaggle of new hireboats fresh out of Diamond Resorts, Middlewich Narrowboats and Andersen Boats. Andersen are by far the smartest fleet but I have a soft spot for the rugged work weary fleet of Middlewich narrowboats whose every scratch and dent seems to exude happiness of holidays past. Used and abused but much enjoyed.

We moored just before Big Lock, the first broad lock on the northern T&M designed to accommodate Weaver Flats, and went in search of provisions. The Fudge Boat had warned us of the closure of Somerfield so instead we hunted down Liddle who had most of what we needed. As we waited and waited for the Barge Lock to fill (the boaters coming up had forgotten to close a bottom gate paddle) we were joined by the hotel boat Away4aWhile, travelling light from Brimingham to Anderton to pick up new passengers. The two man crew were gaining a day of shore leave by making the passage in four 12 hour days. We shared the lock, BCN anecdotes and mugs of tea before striking out for Anderton, 9 miles distant. They made fast progress with their newly rebuilt engine, zipping past the various flashes with us trailing in their wake.

The Chemical plant at Rudheath hisses and spits its caustic brew much as it has done for a hundred years, which was more than could be said for the rather sad remains of the old Lion Saltworks which seems nearer and nearer collapse each time we pass. The ancient buildings are steadily decaying back into the briney landscape they plundered for so long.

Lion Saltworks

The rather smart ground of Northwich Victoria lies next to the canal, its prosperity probably more a testament to it also being the home ground of Manchester United Reserves than the skill of the team which bears the name of the nearby town. We parted company with Away4aWhile at the ABC base, recovering the tea mug and promising to meet up again in Birmingham.

We pushed on through the Barnton Tunnel in the gathering gloom, mooring up in the delightful lagoon which separates it from its northerly twin, the Saltersford Tunnel.

Llangollen Canal 1984

Llangollen Canal 1984

Just when I thought that my accounts of boating trips in the 1980's was complete, along comes some evidence of yet another journey along the Welsh Canal.


This trip was undertaken during Easter 1984 in the company of Jon, my best friend and later my best man, plus Rod and Rita, married friends from Norwich. Whilst I have lost all my photographic records of this trip, Jon has been more organised and was able to track them down in a rusting photo album.

Rod and Rita

A young Captain Ahab

We had planned to attend Spring Harvest, an Easter time church event in Prestatyn, but our inefficiency in submitting a booking form left us out in the cold. So we decided to go to Wales anyhow, and hire a cruiser form Maestermyn Cruisers - much to Rita's delight who insisted on referring to them as Mr Men boats, a joke which was probably funnier in the Roger Hargreaves heyday. The actual boat was the Maestermyn Countess.

I am sure that flat caps were in fashion in the 1980's!

Even in 1984, the canal was familiar territory but the trip was rich in anecdote:

We stared by heading west, initially over Chirk Aqueduct where we discovered Rita's aversion to heights, and then onto Pontcysyllte where Rod and Rita took refuge in the front well deck. With nothing much to do at the back except "mind the shop", Jon and I hopped off leaving the boat to find its own way across whereupon we wandered along to the front of the boat, engaging them in idle chat. This continued for a couple of minutes before a horrified Rita realised than no one was steering, and went ape. No amount of assurances did any good, we were reprimanded severely and chivvied back to the stern to do who knows what. A cheap schoolboy prank, but as I often say ,"a cheap laugh is better than no laugh at all". I have to admit that as a principle for maintaining healthy relationships it is somewhat deficient and has caused me all sorts of grief over the years.

A less common view of the aqueduct

Next up it was the Woody Allen film "The Sleeper". Now Woody Allen is an acquired taste and The Sleeper is his only film that I have ever enjoyed, and that is probably because I watched it on the boat with Rod, Rita and Jon. If you have never seen it you should, at least once. The basic plot is that he was cryogenically frozen for about 150 years and the film traces his reactions to life when he was thawed out. By the time he re-entered the land of the living ,sex was a thing of the past, having been replaced by the Orgasmatron - a sort of small wooden cupboard - a bit like an on board loo. You can see where this is going. Even to day I get the urge to refer to the toilet cubicle as the Orgasmatron - but no one would get the joke.

You can see why Belle married me.... fresh out of the Orgasmatron!

We then retraced our steps back across the aqueducts (staying at the tiller this time) and on down the Grindley Brook flight to Hurleston junction.

Grindley Brook staircase

Somewhere along this stretch we witnessed a portion of the televised Miss World competition. Rita's enlightened views were way ahead of the times, a period when we were accustomed to regular near nudity on shows such as The Sweeny and Minder. The more Rita vented her strongly held feeling about this "cattle market" the less Jon and I could see the problem. As I recall, Rod valued his marriage more than a cheap laugh and remained firmly on the fence, leaving the Rita baiting to the two of us, who has so much less to lose.

Monkey business on the lift bridges

The Llangollen still had some of its old style lift bridges in the early 1980's, the sort with a big box of rocks at the end of the balance beam and two lovely steel bars running up each arm. Having looked at the photos I can now remember how I managed to climb to the top as a teenager! It looks like I still enjoyed the stunt in my 20's.

Minshull Lock - Middlewich Branch

The trip included a journey part way down the Middlewich Arm, passing Minshull Lock which sold delicious apple pies. I mentioned this to Jeff as we passed this Easter and his question was "did they taste good?". Well actually, yes they did. Even now, all these years later, I can still taste those excellent Bramley pies.


I also remember the weather on the Middlewich. We hit one of those freak Easter storms where hail descends in a solid sheet, so fast that the boat became a sheet of ice in about one minute flat, and then melted away again almost as fast.


This was a memorable trip but sadly I have lost track of Rod and Rita. The last I heard of Rod he had become an Anglican Vicar and a quick search of the web reveals a very familiar face, but where has the hair gone?

As for Jon, he is still my best friend even though we live 150 miles apart and we don't see each other as much we would like. I guess that best friends are for life, not just the Welsh canal.