Lord Hay's Canal - part 2

Lord Hay's Canal - part 2

Fishley No 2 Bridge to Newtown Bridge

Wyrley and Essington Canal

October 2011

We left the trail of the three mile Lord Hay's Canal at Fishley No 2 Bridge, just over half a mile into its course and soon after it became choked with rubble.

Looking west from Fishley No 3 Bridge

For a while the course is all but lost, the line marked out by a lonely winding hedge, with the land on the north side much lower than the south. Tucked in behind the hedge there are a pair of bee hives, their inhabitants alive in the autumn sunshine as they prepare for the onslaught of winter. I gave them a wide berth and set off on the southern side of the hedge taking care not to trudge over growing crops.

Infilled Fishley No 3 Bridge

After maybe quarter of a mile the stand of trees reasserts itself, marking out both the width and line of the abandoned cut. At the start it is quite possible to walk through the trees, following the exact line but then the vegetation thickens forcing you out into the meadows to the north. 

Fishley No3 Culvert

After dodging through a couple of gates I came across a track running over the canal, clearly the site of Fishley No 3 Bridge. I could see two parallel lines of bricks running across the track - indicating the top of the bridge supports. A bit of a scramble through the thicket and there it was, the bridge supports but with the parapets collapsed and the bricks loosely stacked in the old navigation channel.

West from Fishley No 3 Bridge

That wasn't all there was to this location. After casting round a bit I found a concrete cover with one section removed covering a brick lined overflow culvert. Ground water still oozes across its base and the remaining stump of the cast iron paddle sear sits lost and forlorn.

Looking east from Stafford Road

The undergrowth soon forces you out into the fields again so I continued along the northern edge of the track. Eventually, in the corner of the field, I found a gate which, after another barrier of brambles, took me to the site of Newton Bridge and Stafford Road - the end of this section.

Reflections on Kazakhstan

Reflections on Kazakhstan

November 2011

I have just returned from a business trip to Almaty in Kazakhstan, my first visit to an ex Soviet Union country.

Mountains behind Almaty

Almaty is six hours ahead of us and in spite of being there for four nights, I never managed to overcome the jet lag issue. The trip was very successful but I am now on my knees with fatigue and trying desperately to stay awake to try and slot straight back into the UK sleep pattern. This is really important because we are moving the boat to Stafford boat club tomorrow, where it is being slipped and re blacked over the next week.

So what did I make of Kazakhstan? Well it has to be said that it is different, its people are warm and welcoming but as a non Russian speaker, communication is a complete nightmare.

Almaty

I was fortunate enough to spend a lot of time with a local who provided a fascinating insight into the city. In a nutshell, till the time of Stalin, Kazakhstan was a nation of about three million nomadic herders, devoid of any significant settlements. All that changed when Stalin decided to establish communities in the area, shipping in a broad assortment of ethnic minorities which has resulted in an unusual blend of races and a very tolerant population.

Rixos Hotel Almaty

Kazakhstan was the last country to leave the Soviet Union and you get the impression that they were not entirely unhappy with rule coming from Moscow. The city is therefore very young, laid out in a gridiron pattern, with long straight dual carriageways, just right for a speeding tank. Whilst the city has everything you need, it has no real centre and certainly no "old area". The traffic lights at the many intersections do come with a twist - the countdown boxes which tell you how long till the lights change. This results is a huge number of close calls among  drivers who are, how shall we put it? - somewhat competitive and embrace an automotive version of Russian Roulette as something of a national support.

I stayed at the Rixos, a posh up market hotel with prices which eclipse even those of London. This location necessitated a four mile commute to the office, most of which was in Gypsy Taxis. Now these need a bit of explanation - basically you stand by the road, stick your hand out and most times someone will stop, a price will be agreed and off you go. Hopefully, the car will be safe and the driver honest, but this informal approach to taxis appears to be a potential rapist's paradise.

Inside the Rixos

Kazakhstan is therefore a relatively new country and dosn't have a democratic constitution that we would recognise. It has been stable with just one president in office since independence, but as he ages and succession is unclear, clouds are gathering on the horizon. Logic says that the country has a bright future, with massive mineral potential and about 5% of the worlds undeveloped oil reserves. But the country needs stability to encourage inward investment to realise this potential - how many times have we seen dictatorships come to a destructive end.

The  city has a lot going for it, close proximity to lovely mountains and skiing, lakes and of course a lot of the great out doors - a country which is the size of Western Europe and only 15m inhabitants - mostly in Almaty and the new capital Astana. Almaty does have one other remarkable natural resource - the girls. Now don't get me wrong, I am a happily married man and no one can hold a candle to Belle's charms, but the Kazak girls are simple stunning, pettite, dark, slim, oriental with just a touch on Mongol - mix it all together, add a racy line of micro skirts and high heeled knee boots and the end result is remarkable. Not that I noticed of course....

Lord Hay's Canal - part 1

Lord Hay's Canal - part 1

Wyrley and Essington

October 2011

A physical walk of the Lord Hay's one mile canal of 1800 presents a bit of a challenge. The canal was privately owned during its working life and its line has reverted to private ownership following its closure in 1954, which means no public footpaths either along its length or crossing its path. So, if you want to take a look its going to be private land all the way, a veritable Mastermind walk - once you have started you have to finish, with no expedient get outs till you emerge at Stafford Road at the far end.

Lord Hay's Branch Canal - taken from Richard Chester Browne's "The Other 60 Miles".

But that's jumping ahead. Lets start at the beginning and follow this line methodically.To do this one justice will take three posts:

1. Wyrley and Essington junction to Fishley Bridge Number 2 - this post

2. Fishley Bridge 2 to Bridge 3

3. Newtown Bridge (Stafford Road) and beyond

Junction with the Wyrley and Essington Canal

The line starts with the junction at the Wyrley and Essington Canal, its splayed entry still plain with the first hundred yards completely infilled by BW who use the area as an official dredging site. Then its Fishley No1 Bridge which carries Fishley Lane over the line. The southern end is choked with rubble but the northern portal is visible among the undergrowth.

 Fishley No 1 Bridge

The line north is choked with brambles so if we are to make progress a detour is needed. My initial thought was to make use of the fairways of the adjacent Bloxwich Golf Club whose grounds border the first half mile. Such an approach would dictate a late evening sortie but this opportunity arose in late morning to I decided to probe the line from the fields to the north. Access to the start, the site of the old Fishley Colliery, is hampered by copious barbed wire but a couple of hundred yards up the road a public footpath provides a walk on route.  Don't bother to look for the Fishley Colliery basin. Where once there was an inlet there is now a mound of relocated spoil. 

Overgrown channel north of Bridge No 1

You catch glimpses of a bramble choked channel as you head north and then a fence forces you into the channel itself, a clear saucer shape indent sitting atop an earth embankment.

The clear channel beside Bloxwich Golf Club

This section represents a perfectly preserved canal track, remote and therefore devoid of the usual debris, not a lorry tyre in sight. This situation persists way beyond the Golf Club when suddenly you are faced with a huge pile of rubble. This point neatly illustrates the problem of canal hunting. Where you expect to find a depression you can so often end up standing on a mound!

Start of the rubble infill

From here the whole line has been used as a tip, this section filled in from the remains Fishley No 2 bridge, of which there is no sign. The site is still used as a dump with a farm track winding across the fields. This also marks the end of the broad canal track, with the course ploughed into the fields but its line marked by hedge.

Fishley Bridge 2 - site of an active tip

Journal of a Voyage - book review

Journal of a Voyage

From Liverpool to Hobart Town and Sydney in the ship Othello in 1833 - 1834

by CM and NB Abbot

November 2011

A most unusual book, given to me by a friend who knows of my fascination for Watery Tales.

Its the verbatim journal of Thomas Mitchell, surgeon on Othello, a transport ship from Liverpool to Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania) which offers a brief day by day account of his journey which lasted over a year. From the off it was apparent that disease and death were constant companions and with little or no formal medical training the surgeon was in reality little more then a carer. 

Its an everyday tale of an extraordinary journey followed by thousands seeking out a better life on the other side of the world, in an age when life was cheap and emigration normally a one way ticket. The journal was never written to be read as a public document so you get a very gritty account of what happened, but very little insight into its author. A rare and fascinating perspective.

Just once, on 14th September 1834 and 13 months into the journey he open up a bit and we see a glimmer of the real man:

Fine day with more wind which is sending us homeward rapidly which makes everyone glad except myself who am as much or rather more at home here than in my native land. I certainly feel pleasure in seeing England, I can scarcely say home, for home I have none, pointed at and scorned by my relatives; but they never can persuade me to think myself the rascal they picture me; Tis' strange that none except themselves should think so but if God gives me health what need I care (it's bad enough now).

The authors strike me as amateur historians who stumbled over the original manuscript and became captivated by the subject, using the tale as a thread to research places and events along the way. By way of a counterpoint, they found correspondence relating to the Fenton's, an Irish family some of whom migrated on the Othello. The subsequent family history reveal what life was like for emigrants. 

This is therefore a book of two halves, a first rate journal at the front and a patchwork composite family history at the back. I am not convinced that the two sit very easily together but taken as a whole its insight is a unique gem, rare, unusual and one not to be missed.

One final and very personal twist comes in the provenance which brought this book to me.

As far as I can tell, the author died a few years after the voyage and the journal returned to his mother in Beverley, Yorkshire. It then stayed in Beverley till it was found for sale by the the father of the Abbot brothers, the authors and editors of this book. The journal than passed to the brothers who, in the 1980's, produced this volume. This particular copy was signed and given to John Bourne, a history professor at Birmingham University as a gesture of thanks for services rendered, who passed it on to my colleague Jim on his retirement as he cleared his shelves. Jim lives with my watery obsession and gave it to me to satisfy my interest in watery tales. If for no other reason, this known set of links sets this book apart from the ordinary.

Cape Arm - part 2

Cape Arm (southern section)

Birmingham Canal Navigations

October 2011

We left the Cape Arm with a northward look into the arm from Cranford Street Bridge.

Cape Arm south from Cranford Street

Cape Arm south from Cranford Street

So lets pick up the train looking south. One glance over the parapet of this 1906 bridge tells you that there is more to this arm than you would expect. The canal runs deep and wide behind the Thandi Coach depot before curling round under a huge concrete loading gantry, its roof gently slipping into the channel below.

GKN's loading gantry

The canal continues beyond this under a blue steel footbridge before coming to an abrupt end where a low level roadway crosses over. Whilst you cant see the next section, Google Earth suggests that  a short section remains in water on the other side leading to a residual element of a further arm which headed towards the Cape of Good Hope pub. I couldn't gain access to the site so there is no way of validating if this last bit still exists. Maybe one for another day.

Plaque on Cranford St Bridge

The loop used to continue on to the south, its path still visible as a roadway lined by old warehouses before petering out as it enters the only element of the site with operating businesses.

The final blue footbridge

The southern exit is obliterated but can be identified by following the line of the Winson Green Loop opposite and noting a slight change on the canal edging.

Line of the lost southern section

This arm offers a wealth of opportunity as and when the block is redeveloped. If it is used by industry this is probably the last we will see of it but if it is used for residential purposes the reopened canal would four a very attractive centre piece.

Who knows, one day we may be mooring our boats by the bar in Cape Square - but then again - maybe not!