BCNS lecture - Lost Canals of Tipton

Keith Hodgkins talk on:

The Lost Canals of Tipton

January 2013

I was tempted along to the BCN Society's monthly meeting by the prospect of an illustrated talk by the author and local historian Keith Hodgkins, covering the lost canals of Tipton. 

It is said that to become an expert you just need to narrow your chosen field to the point that the subject matter is so restricted that you become the de facto expert, but by that time there is no one interested in what you have to say! This criticism could in no way be levelled at Keith Hodgkins. 

Keith is a Tiptonian through and through, having gone to school on the banks of the Toll End Communication Canal and has taken a very active interest in the history of this area ever since. 

His presentation included a huge number of photographs of the canal features linked together by some amazing areal shots which put the whole local network into perspective. 

To someone with only a passing interest in the subject this could find this a bit dry, but to someone who has walked every yard of this post industrial landscape in search of 21st century remains it was fascinating. Suddenly, all those ditches, embankments and linear open spaces sprang to life as water (or more often reedy) filled channels, winding their way point to point as the canals threaded their way though the landscape. I have often thought that if I could use a time machine for a day I would probably visit the Tiption area, and this came a close second. 

I was delighted to see that the routes I had identified were all pretty accurate, but the old images showed me some nooks and crannies I had never noticed before. This is a problem of using any one set of maps - they only offer a view as a slice in time and what came earlier or later can be missed. Did you know that the Lower Ocker Hill Branch we know today is the second version. An earlier one which fed the original culvert to the pumping station suffered from mining settlement and was later replaced? Its these sort of titbits which keep drawing me back for more. Understanding this complex network is a never ending project. 

So, my visit to the January BCNS meeting far exceeded my expectations and was well worth the effort. 

Keith's published works are well worth a look, with his latest offering "Tipton Through Time" providing some great comparative images of what he describes as the epicentre of the UK canal network - a claim I agree with wholeheartedly. Curiously, I had exactly the same discussion with the late John Whitehouse in September and our pinpoint at the top of the Tipton Green Canal was just a few hundred yards from Keiths Watery Lane Junction alternative. Great minds and all that. 

February offers a similar insight into the lost Stourbridge canals - an area which is the next on my to do list. I can see these events becoming a fixed item on my agenda. 

Fixing a hole where the rain gets in.....

Or: what Father Christmas does on his dress down day

January 2013

It all seemed so easy. Christmas was coming and guests were arriving and there was just time to redecorate our back bedroom which we finished with nearly a week to spare.

But there was a snag, or two. First up I noticed a dribble of water inside the bay window which could only come from the flat roof. Its got to be 25 years old, so its no great surprise and an hour or so up the ladder with a pot of felt cement knocked the crack on the head, at least for the time being. Bingo - problem solved for Christmas.

Alas it was not that simple. Sure I fixed the flat roof but then I noticed the wet patch on the wall, just there the chimney stack is. I had noticed some dodgey pointing a while back but due to its inaccessible position I put it off for another day/ week/year...

There was only one answer - repoint the chimney but it would have to wait for some mild dry weather, maybe March? The first weekend in Jan dawned clear and bright, dry for several days and the thermometer hovering at a steady 13C - and I had nothing to do. How better to spend a Saturday morning than perched precariously 25 feet up with a bucket of cement in one hand and a trowel in the other.

That said, the deed is done and I escaped without injury. One repointed chimbley and a rapidly drying guest room wall. Now, what colour did I paint it?

Black Country Living Museum

Black Country Living Museum

Jan 2012

These wintry days you have to get your boaty fixes wherever you can.

You may remember that way back in Jan 2012 I won some tickets to the BCLM courtesy of the then to be Canal and River Trust who were looking for some photos for their new website. These tickets had a 16th Jan 2013 expiry date on them and with the BCLM closing for the first two weeks of Jan it was a case of now or never.

Basin at BCLM

And so a cold and blustery Sunday morning on the last weekend of 2012 found us in deepest Dudley taking in the sights of this local landmark. We were not alone but the crowds were very thin and there was little jostling for space. Its got to be over 10 years since I entered the site by the front door, but have had an occasional peep at the boats via the canal entrance. 

We were treated to VIP service in the various shops where the guides were pleased to be able to share their knowledge. I was particularly taken by the Chemists shop transplanted from Netherton and set out just as it would have been in the 1930's. The host warmed to his task and gave a lovely insight into local life at the turn of the 20th century.

Pulling a traditional pint at the BCLM

Helen announced a desire to visit the Dudley Tunnel and as our entrance had been free, why not? We booked a slot of the 2.00 pm trip and wandered round the lower end of the museum before purchasing a piping hot lunch at the fish and chip shop. If that wasn't enough we then made our way down to the pub and settled into a very warm spot by the fire and downed a couple of pints of bitter whilst watching the world come and go.

 Entrance to the 1988 tunnel

Then it was into the mines / tunnels. I visited with Mr Truth on the way back from the Black Country Boating Festival back in September but I am always happy to revisit sites like this. Its amazing how different guides tackle their task from alternate angles and whilst I was engaged during September's visit I learned a whole lot of new facts this time. The big difference was the wetness of the tunnel. Sure it was a bit drippy in the autumn but we have had three months of solid rain since then and water was pouring through the tunnel roof.

Helen with her sexy hat

And so it was time for home. It was very odd to wander round the moorings and not see Wand'ring Bark tied up and awaiting our return, But on the other hand, I am not sorry to be missing a descent of the 21 in the pouring rain.

As I said, one gets ones watery fixes where you can at this time of year.

Mersey and Irwell Navigation - book review

Mersey and Irwell Navigation

by Alfred Hayman

January 2013

This account represents a neat counterpoint to my last review covering the Aylsham Navigation.

Both were river navigations built in the mid 1700's, and both came to unusual conclusions, but there the similarities end. Whereas the Norfolk navigatation used an obscure river to reach an equally obscure town, the latter linked the mighty Mersey with the growing city of Manchester.

The booklet was written as a labour of love by Alfred Hayman in 1981, long before the introduction of computers. It's all hand typed and then reproduced, so the quality varies a bit here and there, but his passion for the message blazes through. As manager of the Bridgewater Department of the Ship Canal Company for 20 years he was well placed to pull together a detailed record of this unusual waterway, working from his home in Bridgewater House at the foot of the Runcorn Locks.

This was a navigation ahead of its time, developing the Mersey from a shallow tidal ditch into a viable communication route, and making the shareholders some serious money into the bargain. 

Just consider this as an investment:

• Each of the 500 original £20 shares was fully called up between 1781 to 1799
• A series of further calls was made between 1800 and 1806 amounting to £80
• Total investment £100 per share
• Between 1810 and 1816 75% of the capital was returned to the shareholders 
• Each share therefore had a paid up value of £25.

• From 1803 to 1807 a dividend of £3 (3%) was paid - not bad as a start
• By 1817 when the capital repayment programme had ended the dividends had reached over £30 pa - a return of 120% pa - bonanza time
• During the 40 year period 1803 to 1843 a total of £260 was paid out, plus £75 (75%) of the original investment.
• Its little wonder that these changed hands for many times the face value, peaking at £1,350 each, and represented one of the most keenly sought investments of its time.
• The canal shares really were the dot.com's of the 1700's - and many other less credible schemes suffered a similar fate. 

The account trawls the minute books and local historical records of the navigation and charts its meteoric success, its competition with the later Bridgewater Canal, the railways and ultimately its demise as a bigger and better Navigation assumed its course. The Mersey and Irwell was ultimately overlaid by the Manchester Ship Canal which, during the first half of the 20th Century propelled Manchester onto the world trade stage and carried many millions of tons of product to and from its huge inland port.

The level of detail in this account is fascinating. The issues and problems associated with running a waterway are all there, faithfully laid out and awaiting analysis.

In the late 1800's the canal became part of the wider Duke of Bridgewater's interests and after much wrangling, the Manchester Ship Canal bill was passed in 1885 and the sum of £1,710,000 paid to the Bridgewater Navigation Company.

So, what of the line of the old navigation today? Much was absorbed into the MSC's 25 mile length, but some fragments remain in the shape of the bits bypassed as the line was straightened, plus the remnants of the associated Runcorn and Latchford Canal and a few olsd waterside warehouses.

Its strange to reflect on the rise and demise of such a successful waterway which rather than evolving in ever greater incarnations, was completely overridden by the UK's greatest ship canal which itself now stands largely idle awaiting a new lease of life. 

I have no idea where you would get a copy of this limited print run item - mine was borrowed. But if you are interested in waterway history, and particularly that in and around Manchester, this is a must find item. Not necessarily an easy read, but like the waterway which preceded it, it pays a high dividend if you invest the time in it.

Sail and Storm, The Aylsham Navigation

Sail and Storm, The Aylsham Navigation

by The Aylsham Local History Society and Sarah Spooner

Jan 2013

Well, lets start the new year with a review of a book for rivet counters and a pechant for anoraks.

Actually, that's not entirely fair. You know when you start to read with a book produced by a local history society that you will soon be drowned in the minutiae of local historical detail. You know - who said what at which parish council meeting. In some ways this criticism can me leveled at this book but Sarah Spooner has done a pretty good job in editing it into a readable format.

Its an in depth review of the Aylsham Navigation from conception, through construction and operation and into decline and dereliction. But far from being just a commentary of a six mile rural canalised river, it is also a cross section of rural life at the end of the agricultural revolution and through the distant reverberations of the industrial revolution, an earthquake which shook the foundations of our nation.

Having grown up in Coltishall I have always been aware of the Bure, and spent a large part of my youth on or on it between Wroxham and Aylsham. There therefore isn't a reach or structure along its course that I am not familiar with. In more recent times I have revisited the structures and posted updates in this Blog. However, I have never really given much thought to it as a working waterway and this book filled in all the gaps.

First, the basics:

The Navigation was about six miles long, from Coltishall Lock to Aylsham Mill.

• It had five locks (Coltishall, Buxton, Oxnead, Burgh and Aylsham)
• It was approved buy Parliament in 1773 and completed in 1779
• Was over budget when built, needing a second subscrition and costng about £8,000 - nothing new there
• Four of the five locks were made of wood, which had to be rebuilt in brick later on
• Carried up to 1200 boat movements per year at its peak
• Toll income only once exceeded £1000 per annum
• Was never really profitable as an entity (but did boost the local economies no end)
• Its decline can be linked closely to the construction of the East Norfolk Railway
• Its demise was sudden and dramatic amidst huge floods in August 1912
• The route has been closed to all but paddle power for the last 100 years

OK, so they are the bald facts about the track, but the book also explores the villages, industries, wherries and the people who were impacted by the waterway. Amid the welter of facts you get a picture of life in North Norfolk over a 100 year period when the industrial revolution was being embraced by local entrepreneurs and changing the face of the area.

Perhaps the strangest thing when reading the account were the names of the characters involved in the navigation at Coltishall - family names like Neave, Rivett and Money are there in all their glory and if you visit the village of Coltishall and ask around they are still there today. This consistency of population is a bit scary and not least the constant references to the Cookes - a band of millers who had interests up and down the valley. This clan included my own Grandfather (Thomas Cooke) and my father who married into a dusty dynasty, operating Aldeborough Mill on the Scarrow beck, a tributary of the Bure, and in the Maltings below the navigation in Coltishall. 

The book also links in the huge lime and marl workings in Coltishall whose abandoned  excavations represented my childhood playground - my friends daring each other to penetrate the furthest recesses of the gloomy kilns.

The end of the navigation was in some ways commonplace with falling movements and tolls and the Commissioners struggling to maintain the infrastructure within their reducing income. Left to its own devices the route would have withered and died for lack of interest during the 1st world war but fate intervened with a flood of Biblical proportions, damming up briefly behind a railway embankment before crashing down the valley Tsunami like, tearing out most of the bridges and the locks.

This devastation left a number of wherries stranded on the adjoining meadows with only the Zulu worth salvaging. This boat was stranded above Buxton Lock and was manhandled over the remains and floated down to Coltishall to repair.

And bar the shouting over who was responsible for what, that was that. The Navigation was left to its own devices and has largely followed is "navigation" route for the last 100 years, appreciated only by intrepid canoeists, fishermen and the occasional walker who has to persevere to force a route along what can at times be a very overgrown towpath.

This is starting to change with the creation of a Navigation Trust who are actively promoting it as a tourist attraction, making the most of the centenary of the flood to raise awareness. 

As for restoring it to navigable status, it wouldn't be impossible and would offer a particularly twin to the North Walsham and Dilham Canal located a few miles to the north. However, the idea of boater operated locks on the Broads does not seem to attract too much enthusiasm so for now the best way to enjoy this rural navigation is to take a canoe trip downstream from Aylsham, maybe catching a steam train back to recover the car.