Trouble in Market Drayton

When I take a punch to the mouth and end up in the canal

September 2019

Its odd how sometimes you can just see trouble coming your way.

Post dunking

For all those of you who expressed their shock and sympathy on Facebook, here is a fuller explanation of events.

We have taken a leisurely week long trip up the Shropshire Union on a forging expedition (damsons and apples) between Alvecote and the Black Country Boating Festival and on Saturday reached the end of the trip in Market Drayton, winding, watering, using the elsan and had planned to take advantage of then supermarket to restock the depleted larder.

I moored on the first visitor mooring on the embankment immediately south of Talbot Wharf and was engaged in a spot of blackberry picking by the school fields when two teenage boys (15 ish) came walking towards he canal dressed in the obligatory grey trackies and hoodies and I was immediately a bit wary. They settled themselves onto the bench with a couple of mates, which was next to the butty, and were immediately rowdy. Helen was on the motor so I edged closer to keep an eye on things. I wasn't happy with the group so  I decamped to the back cabin of the motor where I could maintain a discrete watch. 

The developing "trout pout" later that evening

It wasn't many minutes before there was an almighty bang and something (probably a bottle) slammed into the butty. I glanced up and he bang was immediately followed by one boys jumping onto the roof and another preparing to get in through the back hatch.

Whats one to do? Well, me being me jumped out to challenge them, but in my haste didn't put any shoes on - and therein lay the seeds of my downfall.

The one of the roof hopped off fast, but the smaller one decided to taunt me from his position on the stern. I ordered him off with the customary threat of a dunking in the cut and ended up dragging him off by his hoodie. This phase of the process was successful but sadly I took my eye off the other one who managed to swing a punch into my mouth. 

With no shoes on my grip was poor and as I continued to swing the kid round and off the boat he dropped to the floor and I overbalanced right into the canal!  Yoof number two (the puncher) then thought i would be a good idea to push me back in as I got out but I pointed out that if he came within my reach he would be "in the bloody cut with me". He backed off.

Meanwhile the little git I had slung off the boat stood there with a torn hoodie realised that in the struggle his shoulder bag, which presumably contained his phone, had ended up in the water which was satisfyingly waterlogged. 

I hopped out with an aim of protecting Helen and the boats (in that order) and my objective was then to drive them away rather inflict vigilante style retribution. So dripping wet I walked at them and they promptly withdrew towards town. I followed, barefoot, for a few hundred yards till I was sure they were away and I then splodged back to the boat, retrieving my phone for a 999 call to report the assault ,and explain my dishevelled state to a disbelieving Helen. She had been on the phone a mere 70 feet away and had heard absolutely nothing.

Given that it was attempted burglary and assault I was rather surprised that the Police didn't dispatch a car whilst the offenders could have been apprehended (its a 10 min walk back to town) and instead logged it and I had a call back from the local force the next day when they apologised that the 999 call didn't trigger the dispatch of a car. At least they know there is a problem in the area.

I have since spoken to other local boaters who know of at least four similar incidents in the recent past, so Market Drayton is clearly currently a flashpoint and a place where you need to be vigilant. 

My take away thoughts are, wherever possible, not to moor close to seats beside the canals. These are places where kids congregate and they are likely to focus on whatever is close by. Had I selected a mooring 400 yards up the towpath I would probably never have had the trouble. Some suggest that a weapon such a a mooring spike or windlass would have had an impact, but in the same way I am sure that little will come of my report to the police, had I wielded a heavy weapon at them I would have been the one prosecuted for assault.

So, in the end I did protect the boats and their contents, I did manage to drive them off, one sustained a torn top and probably a wrecked phone but for my part I took a thick lip and a dunking. The dunking was probably a blessing in disguise because it cooled a growing rage and prevented me escalating an altercation beyond what was considered reasonable force. 

So, take care in Market Drayton at the moment. This was mostly a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time but local info suggests its my no means an isolated incident. 

We decided that discretion was the better part of valour, so quietly slipped away and spent the night the other side of the Tyrely Locks, well away from any possible overnight reprisals where we would have been sitting ducks. Such it the power of the internet / boating grapevine that as we travelled south to Gnosall on Sunday, heads kept popping out of moored boats asking if my lip was ok!

But of all the lessons one could learn from this incident is - if you decide to tackle rampaging teenagers, remember to put your shoes on first!

My lips are healing well and it will take more than a couple of louts to dampen my enthusiasm for canals or boating. It's just not what one would expect in sleepy Shropshire.

To all of you who sent me your best wishes of Facebook - Thanks. The pain in my lips was more than balanced by the outpouring of love and compassion you all expressed. 

Take care and keep those shoes handy.

Days of industry

Days of industry

September 2017

A trip up the Shroppie wouldn't  be complete without a visit to Industry Narrowboats at Stretton Wharf, birthplace of The Jam Butty. 

Stretton Wharf - Birthplace of The Jam Butty

We have a standing invitation to pop in and our progress northbound the day before had already been noted. On this occasion the visit was with the specific purpose of foraging down their driveway where all sorts of seasonal goodies were promised, and we were not disappointed. We picked a huge bag of cooking apples, a smaller bag of rosy red eaters, sloes for sloe gin, rosehips for rosehip jelly and quite amazingly, three kilos of late red plums which were clinging into the branched by their fingertips.

The fruit foraged at Industry Narrowboats

One snag occurred whilst harvesting - my extendable fruit picker decided to jam in the retracted position and refused to open up. I tried everything but in the end asked to borrow their workshop vice which did the trick. Whilst I was in the workshop I couldn't help but see Canis Major up on the blocks. Canis Major is a shortened GU motor built in the 1930's and is noteworthy as she was the last boat converted by  Peter Keay of Walsall. 

Canis Major stripped to the bare bones

I have to admit that I have a real fascination with historic boats in the "raw", and they don't come much rawer than this one. She has just had her wooden bottom removed and her knees are exposed with great holes cut into her sides where new steel is being welded into areas which must have been paper thin. The is a fine craft, unusual in that she still has a wooden top conversion and her old Lister engine waits patiently for the next phase of her life. 

No bottom but nice lines!

Industry Narrowboats specialise in the old and the unusual and its always a delight to have a look round the yard and see the projects they have on the go. Perhaps the most interesting are the odd "bits" of boats hanging around, a habit which of course led to the birth of The Jam Butty four years ago made from two back ends welded together.

An unexpected encounter with Halsall

Our return through Autherley Junction was delayed as the coal Boat Halsall's bows edged into the junction bridge hole just as I was coming out of the stop lock. Brian McGuigan was at the helm and took the setback in his stride. He backed off a bit and I kind of jack knifed round his stern with both of us busy taking photos of each other! I got the impression he was rather taken with our little butty and credit goes to him for the photo of me getting our pair out of the weeds opposite the junction.

Brian McGuigan's shot of me

We pressed on to Coven and a good meal at the Fox and Anchor which used to be our local when we moored at Calf Heath. The food was good quality and washed down with a couple of pints of Proper Job.

Pendeford in the later afternoon sun

Friday was another industrious day after a very late start. The red plums were prepped and turned into a couple of dozen jars of Cinnamon Plum Jam. At the same time the butty had a good sort out, clearing up the mess after the rain impacted shut down ant Netherton.

Those plums in their new format....

The late afternoon was spent making the short hop from Coven to Gailey, passing Hatherton Marina at Calf Heath which was our home mooring for so many years. I certainly don't need a map for this twisting waterway, every curve is indelibly imprinted on my memory.

Bye Bye BCN

Escape to the Country

Sept 2017

The back mooring at the Black Country Living Museum is always peaceful and this time was no exception, it even has its own tap for total convenience, which is handy when you are doing the laundry.

We set off at about 9.30am, passing a gathering array of trade boats preparing for this weekend's Tipton Canal Festival, which we have decided to skip favouring a leisurely 10 days to get to Huddlesford and hopefully some autumnal foraging along the way.  The run to Deepfields was uneventful but Deepfields to Bilston was thick with floating weed. 

 Coal Boats Roach and Triumph

Along the way we passed coal boats Roach and Triumph deeply laden and making slow going in tricky conditions. Just getting the butty round them was a challenge as both the coal boats and the butty draw three feet and both hulls naturally searched for the same deep water channel. We kind of swung round each other in a ponderous pirouette and slipped by without so much as a kiss - with enough time for a few shots which captured both craft in action.

I think I have got a bladefull!

Then it was on to Wolverhampton with a hire boat on our tail. They were catching fast but became ensnared in the Bilston weed trap and resorted to the weed hatch, letting Peter Baldwin's Saltaire to pick up the chase. I had a mile or so to go to the top of the "21" and I decided to wind it on a bit and so take the locks first. We held out lead and arrived at the top lock with maybe three boat lengths lead, closely followed by the unfortunate Anglo Welsh craft.

With the early locks in our favour we set off,  me resorting to running back and forth to pre fill the lock ahead, where the gaps were small enough. With a bit of effort we managed to stay a clear lock ahead of Saltaire till the locks space out near the race course. At this point we realised that they were operating with a crew of three with our friend Richard Alford, a Waterways Chaplain, undertaking lock wheeling duties. When the finally caught us at lock 20 the considered opinion of Saltaire was that we had put in an impressive show, especially with only two on board. Our time was just under three hours with about 14 locks set against.

One of the nice things about boating is the ability to change plans as we go. As we came down the "21" we debated our schedule to Huddlesford and in the spur of the moment decided to spend a couple of days on the Shroppie. Having just completed the 21 we were weary and moored up north of the M54 bridge, sheltered by a thick hedge from the high winds which were forecast. And did it blow! The wind raged all night and was so hard the boat shook and shuddered.

The morning dawned clear but there was still a very strong cross wind which caught several hire boats out as they emerged from the cuttings and banged down our side. Towing in high winds can be a tricky exercise, but when moving the butty is pretty steady and no mishaps ensued. We paused at Wheaton Aston services and then moved on to Turners where we refilled with Diesel at 57p per litre. We have used about 80 litres since Stratford three weeks ago, which isn't bad.

Foraging Quince

One snag about Turners when approached from the north is the absence of a winding hole, and reversing with a butty to the one the other side of the bridge is a non starter. We therefore pressed on north to the winding hole at High Onn, Along the way we remembered an open offer to harvest a boaters quince crop. We had seen an unharvested canal side tree for several years before we met the owner and sadly we have never been in the area at the right time since. However, this year the tree was heavily laden with fruit and a swap of fruit for jam was conducted - a good swap which will supply us with Quince Jelly for next season.

 Quince, glorious quince

All that wind played havoc with the trees and we encountered a very early case of "Shoppie leaf soup"  where all the cuttings are full of floating sycamore leaves. Individually they are not a problem but en mass they clog up the blades and you have to reverse every half a mile or so. Oh the joys of those wooded cuttings.

A little rest and relaxation

R&R in Chester

December 2013

My apologies for the lack of posts recently. The sad fact is that I have had no boating in recent weeks, and no meaningful waterways related activity - and therefore nothing to blog about!

But all that changed this weekend when we finally got a boaty fix courtesy of Barry and Sandra aboard Areandare at their winter moorings near Chester. We may not have moved the boat but we did get to spend two nights afloat tucked up snug in their front cabin, rocking with the wind and listening to the trains sighing their way past the marina.

We spent the day in Chester which offered lots of scope for photography and beer - lots of beer come to think of it. Barry's home brew, my home brew, sampling the selection of Woodfordes  bottled ales and then there was the real ale served in the Albion Inn - but more of that another day. Then there were the chocolate girls, handing out Galaxy bars to all who passed by. These chocolate girls may be generous but they had lousy memories - we were handed a bar every time we passed and we found reason to go through the cross roads no less than three times!

Barry and Sandra have made themselves very much at home in the marina, adopting a pair of persistent ducks who were as fat as they were skilled at blagging bread. But perhaps the most notable adoption is an abandoned swan whose father died and whose mother's new mate took against him. But undaunted the swan has found himself a new dad in the shape of Barry who has developed a trusting route to satisfying a swan sized hunger:

Then there was the six handed rummy which extended through the evening, northern hemisphere facing south and after three long hours we came to an emphatic stalemate - with  a drawn score and honours even. Its a shame the English cricket team cant aspire to such mediocrity!

Barry and Sandra - thanks for such a lovely weekend.

The last run of the season

Norbury to Calf Heath

November 2013

The autumn run, lovely as it is, does come with a bit of a sting in its tail. It represents the last trip of the season and much as we always plan to have a cruise or two in the winter the reality is that at best we will have a night or two aboard before the leaves start to emerge next Easter.

But hey, were not finished with this trip yet. The autumn sun is out and the mild weather is holding so we potter along, picking sloes and rosehips and creating a one boat water hazard to all and sundry who happen to come past whilst we are in picking mode.

 Montgomery taking shape

We decided to make Brewood our destination for the night but in the event we never quite made it. We approached Stretton Wharf and slowed to take a further look at Montgomery and just as we were about to carry on, the guys came out and invited us to moor alongside the rebuilt Phyllis May and take a closer look at their work. It was good to be able to examine the new steelwork and so share ideas for the next phase of the project. With the main bulkhead in place with one door handing on its hinge, attention is turning to the front deck and its associated bulkhead. The crucial thing about such a short boat is to make it look right and it would be so easy to make it all look top heavy. I am happy to leave this to Keith who has an expert eye for good proportions and what he is producing is exceeding my expectations.

Steel patchwork

As we were wandering round Montgomery Sara and Jim climbed down out of Bakewell, which is currently out of the water undergoing some repairs and blacking. We were invited in for coffee and one thing led to another and suddenly we found ourselves back at Wheaton Aston enjoying yet another great pub meal. Three nights out in a row - a very sociable return trip.

Drysdale overplating

Whilst we were looking at Bakewell I realised that Drysdale was alongside and had its waterline overplated. It appears that the boat, which has been moored at Calf Heath for years, was bought without survey on e-bay and it was a case of buyer beware when the sides were found to be down to a scary 1mm! Its a small miracle it made it to Stretton for repairs and rather than trip out the interior they opted to fill it with CO2 to prevent internal fires. This is not a technique I have come across before and I am advised that it involved regular tests involving candles in jam jars being lowered into the hull but always being careful not to inhale!

We spent the night next to Phyllis May but heard none of the ghostly goings on which Terry used to remarked on in his book. The signwriting is absolutely great - it made me laugh out loud.

And so it was off to Calf Heath, picking late elderberries as we progressed. Sadly there was a  literal sting in the tail - I hopped off the boat straight onto a wasps nest. One stung my ankle and one got me on the bum, which encouraged me back onto the boat in double quick time. I hope all the elderberry cordial lovers appreciate my suffering for the cause.

Shroppie foraging trip 2013 - Norbury

Back to Norbury
November 2013

The Shroppie ma be very tranquil but you have to admit that it a bit short on shops. We had just about cleaned Brewood out of supplies for jam making and I had been holding Market Drayon out as a promised land for shopping. The reality is of course that Mkt Drayton is a town which has had its centre wrecked by out of town supermarkets but it does have a good Asda (I think) which is about 10 mins walk from the canal.

Tyrely Locks - Shropshire Union Canal

I was weighed down with 10kg of sugar (the max load I will carry without complaint) and it was back to the boat for a late season engine service and then a lazy start through the locks in a lovely still autumn morning with hardly a cloud in the sky. It wasn't a day to hurry so we pottered along picking sloes as we found them.

Misty Woodseaves Cutting

Last night my brother had been in touch and we agreed to meet up for a meal at Gnosall but all our messing around coupled with over an hour on the Norbury water tap caused us to run out of time and daylight so they diverted to Norbury and drove us the three miles to Gnosall. Two nights an two meals out - things are looking up.

Herbs at Tyrely Locks

Knowing my interest in DIY cider, my brother arrives with a couple of sacks full of eaters destined for the press. If you saw any other boat with sacks on the rook you would assume coal. Not with us - foraged fruit more like! 

Anyway, it was one of those great days which slide by like a good pint, satisfying and leaving you wanting more.

Autumn Forage on the Shroppie

Foraging on the Shropshire Union Canal

November 2013

For several years I have clung to the misguided notion that my solo autumn trip along the Shropshire Union Canal is just that - a solo trip.

Shebdon Ebankment

But lately I have come to realise that it is a long time since I did my solo trip alone, and have had the pleasure of a number of companions over the years. Most recently it has morphed into a late autumn foraging trip, stocking up on sloes, rose hips, and even damsons and elderberries all in the company of Mrs Ahab.

Just half our haul of sloes - for sloe jelly and sloe cordial (cheats Sloe Gin)

The solo trips were the product of a particularly difficult time in my life when I needed some solitude, but this is a time which which has passed for which I am very grateful.

But there is something else about boating which has slowly started to dawn on us - boating is no longer a holiday. Sure, it happens when I am on holiday from work, but its not a holiday as such. That's not to say we are unhappy with boating, far from it. No, what has become apparent this year is that boating is our "other" way of life. We slip from one life to another and being absolutely honest, its the simpler one afloat we want more of. Just as well given the plans afoot!

Anyway, after visiting Stretton Wharf we pressed in through very indifferent weather to a blustery Norbury, picking another five kilos of late damsons, about 8 kg of sloes plus we spied out some late elderberries for picking on the way back (hot elderberry cordial is a standing favourite product at Christmas fairs). 

 Weed clogged prop on a Trust workboat - had been pressure washing the edging stones.

The following day took us on through Grub St Cutting and then later the even more spectacular Woodseaves cutting - impossibly narrow, deep and unstable. This deep tree lined slot in the land opens out into the pleasing flight of five locks at Tyrely, which in turn lead into Market Drayton - our destination. 

The dying embers of an autumn day were spent sitting on the stern forking off the elderberries, another load destined for the elderberry vinegar.

Bridge over Woodseaves Cutting

We ate at the Talbot who served good food and were getting rid of their old glasswear, so we left with full stomachs clutching half a dozen Pedigree glasses - bought for the princely sum of £5. Mkt Drayton was something of a BCNS rallying point with no less than three local boats moored next to us and we all ended up in the same pub for the evening.

Return from Norbury

Return from Norbury

3rd August 2013

All that rain hammering on the roof gave us a broken nights sleep, struggling to get to sleep and then to stay that way. The storms also dropped the temperature and we woke shivering under a thin throw and went in search of the duvet to keep us warm.

We winded at Norbury, taking advantage of the water and elsan point, passing Sue Cawson (Historic Narrowboat Society) who emerged from her boat just as we had passed.

Whilst the wind had got up, the day remained warm enough for tee shirts and shorts as we journey through Gnosall and then Stretton, catching a fleeting glimpse of Montgomery on the hard standing.

Shropshire Union Canal at Stretton

Brewood was heaving with the visitor moorings rammed and the Overflow area to the north of the bridge packed for a long way towards Countrywide Cruisers. I'm not sure what was on my Brewood was clearly the place to be.

Montgomery under wraps

Brewood is also home to some interesting craft including Eric Bloodaxe, Citus and most recently Tycho - an old ice breaker with the most amazing ram on the front.

There is only only Tycho!

Our journey took us back past a long line of cherry trees which we took full advantage of. We pulled in to the offside and picked from the room, hanging on to the branched. Each time a boat came past we were sucked forward to the next tree so we gradually slid down the entire row. Of course, this attracted much comment from passers by who's curiosity was satisfied by a handful of cherries lobbed across the canal.

This was followed by a couple of hours of stoning and ended up with about 8 kilos of cherries which morphed into 50 jars of yummy Wild Cherry Jam.

It was a long day of travel and got back to the marina at 8.30, spending a final night aboard before leaving for church and another week at work. If you are attending Blisworth Festival next weekend why not seek us out and try some of the Wild Cherry jam for yourselves?

Foraging ahead to Norbury

Weekend wanderings to Norbury

2nd August 2013

My lack of posts recently has much more to do with a lack of time rather than any lack of desire!

In fact, we have had two successive weekends away on the boat making full use of my altered working hours which effectively gives me a three day weekend every week. Not that we have travelled very far as foraging the first of the summer crops was the primary objective - cherries and wild raspberries.

 Paused at an inoperative Aldersley bottom lock

This weekend saw us move further afield, turning north up the Shropshire Union at Autherley Junction and soon spied a big cherry tree laden with shiny black cherries which were obligingly hanging over the canal. This allowed us to participate in out favourite form of foraging - rooftop gathering. In a few minutes we had gathered 5kg of these beauties. Big, sweet and containing a thick and succulent juice which soon covered the back deck.

Cherry harvest - part one

Along the way we found yet more cherry treed containing a  mix of red and black berries, a little smaller but very plentiful. We didn't pick as we already had about three hours of stoning ahead of us so they were left for the return journey.

Along the way we passed Stretton Wharf and couldn't resist a visit to see Montgomery aka The Jam Butty - but more of that in a future post.

A quick flash of Montgomery's shapely bottom!

It was a hot still day which got stickier as time moved on. We had a vague plan to moor at Gnosall but decided to wind before night. The snag was that I had forgotten that the next winding point is at Norbury, nearly and hour and a half further on. We had just reached the embankment before Norbury when the towering clouds behind us started to rumble and flash and put us in urgent need of a mooring. The problem is that on the embankment the margins are barely under water so when we spied push tug Atlas and two mud hoppers tied up on the offside we found our prayers answered.

Impromptu mooring near Norbury

In no time we were tied to these River Canal Transport craft and ducked inside just as the first big fat blobs of rain spattered on the roof. Its a good job we stopped as the rail hammered away to a greater or lesser extent for the next 8 hours.

We wounded off our evening  with a dictionary less game of scrabble which against all the odds, Helen won with her last couple of words. A bad scrabble player always blames his / her tiles....

A chilly Easter cruise

Easter 2013

April 2013

45 miles, 4 locks, 14 hours

We had a plan - four days out on the water with some old friends with Market Drayton as a likely destination.

Snowdrifts on the Shroppie

But then spring failed to materialise and we were left in the grip id winds from the Baltic, howling round the residual snowdrifts left behind from last weekend. Not the spring idyll we were hoping for! Plans were rehashed from the warmth of Malta and a limited two day trip was devised for Easter Sunday and Monday.

A wintry ice fall on the Shropshire Union Canal

In the event we set off on Saturday afternoon, just reaching the Fox and Anchor at Coven where we retired for an excellent meal and several pints, catching up on the months which had passed since we last met up. Of course, the boat was toasty and warm and we converted yet another couple to six handed rummy.

Sunday offered some intermittent sunshine and encouraged us to press on along the Shroppie, shaking the winter cobwebs from Wand'ring Bark. The plan was to stop at Gnosall but I forgot that the next winding hole is at Norbury so we went a bit further than planned. To my surprise a CDWF Banter was in full swing at Gnosall but as we were entertaining I didnt show my face.

Monday, by contrast, saw near zero temperatures and a penetrating wind from the east, chilling me to the bone as I steered the boat back for 7 hours. That said, it takes more than a bit of cold to put me off my boating and with the festival season rapidly approaching I cant wait to get back out there.

Can you recognise the un named wooden boat?

The trip offered an opportunity to test out some winter boat improvements including the new cassette loo (fully functional), the new Taff Rail (bears my weight) and the new mattress (very comfy).

Come on spring - this is getting ridiculous....

The sun shines on the righteous

Shroppie Autumn Cruise

Calf Heath to High Offley

Friday and Saturday 2nd and 3rd November

The sun shines on the righteous - well that's what they said when I returned to work after a long weekend on the Shroppie with Helen.

Autumn colours at Brewood

The preceding week has been wild and windy and after our return the cold winter weather closed in again, but for the four days of our trip the sun shone from a cloudless sky, and we made the most of it.

Grub Street Cutting

My autumnal sojourn up the Shroppie has become something of  a fixture in my boating calendar, and a journey I never tire of. Sure it is so familiar that I know every bridge and corner rendering maps unnecessary but the cuttings and embankments are stunningly beautiful cloaked as they are in autumnal reds and golds. The more exposed woodland may be stripped bare by the first storms of winter but in the shelter of the cuttings time was rolled back a month and we even discovered large quantities of Elderberries.

Norbury Wharf

The snag with our choice of weekend is that falls after the clocks go back so the days are short so our aspirations were curtailed and instead of aiming for Market Drayton we settled on the Anchor at High Offley, just before the Shebdon Embankment which will be closed for weeks for repair.

Shelmore embankment

It was an outbound journey which provided a surprising bounty of Apples, Elderberries and in spite of the widespread crop failure, a goodly haul of sloes all picked from the offside of the canal where only boaters can reach them. 

The elusive Kingfisher!

The first night was spent at Wheaton Aston having topped up the diesel tank  and then after a pause at Norbury we spent the second at High Offley, a remote an quiet mooring if ever there was one. All along the route we saw Kingfishers, flitting from branch to branch but these little birds are as fast as they are elusive, defying my attempts to get decent photos. My interest in photographing Kingfishers is bordering on the obsessional.