The curious case of the drip at midnight

The curious case of the drip at midnight

Sept 2017

Have you ever woken in the middle of the night and heard the rythmic tic, tic, tic of a drip? Annoying at the best of times but on a boat the sound of a water drip is never good news and one which cant be ignored.

It all started a few nights ago at the Black Country Boating Festival when I woke sometime after 2.00am to the steady sound of the drip. At first I thought is was the dodgey pipe joint under the sink which has leaked intermittently into an ice cream tub ever since we set out in April. But the resonance was all wrong and whats more, by moving my head I could tell it was coming from the back of the boat, not the galley. 

I tried to get back to sleep but there it was, drip, drip, drip. Unable to sleep I got out and stuck my ear next to the engine cover to see if it was the stern gland. Unlikely I know and no, the noise wasn't coming from the engine bay. Its more like the gas locker - so I lifted the lid and sure enough it was louder. But that's impossible cos there is no water in the gas locker. But, the path outside was wet so maybe, just maybe, the drip was water emerging between the bricks next to the gas locker and echoing through. Not a perfect answer but it was plausible enough to let me go bask to sleep.

There followed a whole string of drip related dreams: Drips from the ceiling soaking the house, drips from the stern gland filling the engine bay - you get the drift....

Imagine my consternation when I woke at 3.00am in the Black Country Museum and there it was again, a steady sequence of dips maybe 30 seconds apart. There is no way its the tow path this time, so I ventured out in my pajamas (again) and opened the lid of the gas locker. 

Yup, there it was again - but louder with the lid off. 

And then a moment of realisation. I keep a trigger operated water spray cannister in there to help then I use cutting compound on the paint. But last time I had moved it was in Birmingham to replace a gas cylinder, and when I put it back it went in upside down. In fact it wasnt a drip at all but instead a bubble, like you get in an airlock with home brew. 

The source of troubled dreams

As the night cooled so did the cannister, The air contracted and sucked in more air from outside which them bubbled up, one bubble at a time.

Turn the cannister over and the problem was solved instantly.

Peaceful sleep has returned to the good ship Wand'ring Bark.

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.

Black Country Floating Festival

Black Country Boating Festival 2017

Sept 2017

I don't think 2017 will go down as a vintage Black Country Boating Festival in anyone's book. Most years the weather is good and sometimes we get one wet day, but this year we had two wet ones which both dampened the spirits and halved the crowd numbers.

Stylishly ready for rain

Normally the central area is littered with attendees lounging around in the autumn sun drinking ale and listening to the bands. This year the grass was closer to a Glastonbury mud bath and entertainment was enjoyed inside.

Winding the butty

For the traders a post event wash up (an apt description if ever there was one) in Ma Pardoes concluded that for everyone sales were about 50% of usual, and us regular attenders were busy explaining to the first timers what its like when its really on song. But we can take cheer that it could have been worse. Most traders managed to continue between the frequent showers and Adrian (the nearly harbour master) assured me that he had seen worse when the level rose and water started to seep into the main tent.

Traders in the rain

The event offered in interesting new twist in the shape of the plaque. Usually they are heavy cast items which I seem to collect as ballast and end up in a drawer in my shed at home. This year a local woodworker offered to make them out of eco friendly ply and the end result was rather lovely - almost justifying a place on the Christmas tree.

That said, the Black Country Boating Festival is more that a trading opportunity and it represents the last "big bash" of the season, one where loads of traders gather and who tend to see the Saturday night in the beer tent as the end of year party. They certainly seem to form the core of the dancers in front of the stage. From our perspective this was more than a bit frustrating because Helen's slowly mending knee wasn't up to the walk to the tent, let alone a knees up if we got there. So for us it was an evening in with a DVD and listening to the music from a distance. We did, however make it onto Ma Pardoes courtesy of Sandra and her borrowed set of wheels.

David Litchfield and Barry Teutenberg between the rain showers

Monday didn't dawn clear and bright, and we left with a damp gazebo and we battled the high winds to the Black Country Living Museum in Tipton. The back slot near the museum entrance was free so we winded both boats and moored in the illustrious company of Sagatia and Bittel. We had a late lunch of fish and chips from the museum chippy and restocked with provisions at the Aldi which had been built on the site of a pub just up the road from the main entrance.

Stoned Out

Stoned Out

September 2017

The last time I used the expression stoned was in the pages of Waterways World and on that occasion it elicited letters of complaint about the endorsement of illicit drugs, especially whilst controlling a narrow boat.

The Damson barricade

I was actually referring to the experience of taking incoming fire from the bridges of Darlaston on the Walsall Canal, but on this occasion I am thinking about Damson stones and the removal thereof.

One of the snags of our nomadic existence in the summer months is the collection, processing and storage of fruit used in winter preserve making. Specifically I am thinking about Damsons which need to be picked in September.

Damsons in the natural

To overcome this issue we have made a few trips home in recent weeks and during these visits we have filled the freezers with the raw materials we will need for next year's products. Today it was the turn of the humble Damson, a vital ingredient in Damson Chutney, Damson Vinegar, Damson and Ginger Tea Jam and Damson and Bramble Jam. 

A growing haul

Our seasonal picking programme always includes a trip to a friend near Lichfield who has several Damson Trees in her garden, which even in the lean years provide a good crop. 2017 is, however, a year of bounty and an hour or so picking the low hanging fruit filled two big bags. When I got home they weight in  at a hefty 26 kilos which were duly weighed, washed and then stoned ready for the freezer. Now stoning these diminutive members of the plum family isn't to be underestimated. The fruit is small and the stones hang in for dear life.

Classic "plum stoners staining"

We have tried several methods of extracting the stones but in the end settled on a Lakeland Cherry Stoner which, with a bit of practice, will stone one kilo in less than 10 minutes. Of course, that still means a couple of hours with stoner in hand before the monster pile can be tucked away in the freezer.

All in all not a bad days work with the promise of many jars of tasty preserve in 2018.

Back into Brum

Back to Brum

September 2017

Monday dawned drizzly and damp but progress had to be made so I was up and away by 9.00am.

If I am honest the long drag up the North Stratford from Dickens Heath is a bit of a trudge, with the shallow canal making for slow progress and the narrowness of the navigation channel making passing difficult. It's at times like this I resort to my trusty i-pod supported by the rather amazing Bose earphones which both block out the rumble of the engine and offer a great sound quality. On this occasion it was two Dido albums and no doubt the passers by were startled to experience my unaccompanied rendition of the same!

Delays at Shirley Lift Bridge

I handn't been going for more than an hour when the canal suddenly stank of diesel and then around the corner some CRT contractors were unloading a load of logs into the hedgerow. The work boat clearly has both a leak and a diesel soaked bilge. The guys were cheerful enough and given our relative speeds I let them past twice (the second time when they picked up a small pontoon). I was more than a bit surprised to see them again 30 minutes later with the work boat moored on the jaws of the Shirley lift bridge. It appears that they didn't have a BW key so figured I would be along in a bit and used mine instead. I have to say it made negotiating this particular obstacle a whole lot easier.

Entering your home town is always a pleasure because you start to see familiar faces. As I approached the tap at Warstock I was thinking about the Halfies and their overstaying issues earlier in the year. And so I turned the corner and there was Jubilee moored up inviting another e-mail form CRT! Sadly the boat was empty and John and Jan were no doubt attending to their property in the area. I pulled in for water and was immediately asked for three jars of preserve, which I duly dispensed and then a chad like head and hands appeared over the fence opposite which is home to Angela and Wayne Attwood (Caggy). I received an update on the progress of the Caggy repairs form Angela and promised some of the new Sunshine Plum Jam at BCBF at the weekend. I have been needing a gas cylinder for over a  week but  there were none to be had on the South Stratford. I therefore had high hopes for Lyons Boatyard who did have some in their cage, but they are closed on Mondays. Grr.

Kings Norton Guillotine

I eventually emerged at Kings Norton Junction at about 2.30pm, blasted my horn and nudged round into the Worcester Birmingham, heading for town. I was part way through my manouver when a blast came for the Netherton Tunnel side and there was Harnser, making its way to Bournville for an overnight stop. 

The plod into Birmingham was entirely predictable with no other traffic on the canal. Peter's mooring at the university was empty as he has already gone to Netherton and so I was left to my thoughts. The elsan point at The Mailbox was visited and a further three jars sold. I am always struck that so often I sell preserved just as I am tying up.... 

And so I slipped into Nick and Victoria's mooring at the rear of Symphony Court, packed up and legged it to the bus for Aldridge and a couple of nights at home. Not that it will be quiet - I have a huge quantity of Damsons to pick, stone and freeze ready for use this autumn.

Sorry for the lack of pics - I left the camera on the boat!