John Evans has always been fascinated by industrial archaeology and messed up his GCEs by spending too much time watching the disappearance of steam locomotives at his native Northampton. Right from an early age he was equally fascinated by canals and took his very first colour photo at Stoke Bruerne on the Grand Union in 1965.

He spent much of his career working in the motor industry, latterly as General Manager of Corporate Communications for Mercedes-Benz UK. Throughout his career he has always written for magazines about aviation, railways and classic cars.

Since retiring, he has made most of his 2,000 colour slides taken in the 1960s and 1970s available on photo sharing sites, and from seeing these, Amberley Publishing asked him to write a book about steam railways.

He has now written ten books for Amberley on railways, buses - and latterly the Rochdale Canal. This is located only a mile from his home in West Yorkshire and he has walked and sailed it regularly.

A real bonus when writing the Rochdale Canal book was meeting Nigel Lord, who lives just a few hundred yards away, but was able to help with much of the story of the canal in its revival days. Nigel was a key part of the reconstruction team.

John has an MA in English, is a regular canal and river sailor (renting, admittedly) and is married with two equally boating-minded adult children.

The Rochdale Canal - a review

"Twenty years have passed since the Rochdale Canal reopened following a restoration scheme that faced almost impossible hurdles. One of three commercial waterways across the Pennines, the canal links the industrial North West and North East, flowing through mill towns, beneath dramatic bridges and traverses spectacular hilly scenery. Its 91 locks present a strenuous challenge for boaters, while it has become popular with walkers, cyclists, houseboat residents and casual sailors. The revival of the canal has helped to bring new life to the towns and villages along its route. This book takes a journey on boats and on foot along its 32-mile length, telling its story in colour through historians, canal users, lock keepers and all those who today utilise the canal in ways its originators never conceived."

I had heard of the Rochdale Canal, of course, but I didn't know much about it other than it rose out of Manchester. The Manchester section, I believed, was a place to get through as quickly as possible, as it was subject to vandalism and unsociable behaviour. Beyond this, all I knew was that the canal passed over the Pennines, so would have some beautiful sections; that there were an awful lot of locks; and that there was a great shortage of water. Not then a canal which would appear on my list of places to explore.

This little book by John Evans, however, has completely changed my mind. OK, there are still a tremendous number of locks, and the canal does occasionally run low on water, especially near the summit. But I have been caught up in John's enthusiasm and fondness for the canal, and I now firmly believe it is a canal well worth tackling - and before I get much older!

The book is fascinating. When I first picked it up, I was grateful that there were only 34 pages of text, while the next 60 pages or so were photographs. But the text engrossed me straight away, and by the time I had read it, I immediately went on to read the captions for every stunning photograph.

Of necessity, the book goes into a great deal of history relating to the Rochdale Canal: it has opened, had its heyday, been closed and re-opened after an almost inconceivable amount of foresight, determination and effort. The book also includes a complete guide to the canal from end to end, enlivened by comments and stories from boaters, bar tenders, walkers and cyclists. And all the time the author's love for and interest in the canal surroundings - whether industrial or picturesque - has us wanting to see everything for ourselves.

There are several moments through the book when I have been surprised, sometimes shocked, once horrified, and a couple of times when I have had to laugh out loud. What more can you ask from a book on a canal?

John Evans lives a mile away from the Rochdale Canal. He loves Britain's industrial heritage, and enjoys the urban sections of the canal as much as the more picturesque parts. His book is a must read for any boaters who are tempted to face the challenges of the Rochdale Canal - or for boaters who can be tempted.  John has published many books, prior to this one. They are mainly about the history of our railways, but would always be worth a read by those boaters who are fond of steam.

John's books are available to buy through Amberley Books or through Amazon

I survived cancer and my brush with serious illness helped me realise what’s really important to me. I went on to live very happily and healthily aboard a narrow boat as a continuous cruiser.

Reading the story now, I also realise how lucky I was to complete the Voyage of Friendship in the winter of 2014 / 2015, managing to avoid stoppages and floods, having good people helping me all the way and having loads of fun, too.

Sally,  June 2023

Hello again family and friends.

Although pleased with my new found confidence, having been to the theatre alone, I was nevertheless anxious when awoken at 2am that night by a voice calling "Rosie and Jim, Rosie and Jim”; I sensed it could mean trouble. Young male voices shouted "wakey, wakey" as my boat windows were thumped. Bunty immediately woke up too and started barking and growling. I was very surprised, especially when the youngsters ran away.

For mothers day I was treated to a fabulous meal with Jenny, Struan, Edith and Thomas, followed by a nice walk along the canal with the children's bikes. Then, arriving late on Sunday evening was my next guest Tracey.

In the morning, Tracey helped me take Therapy further on to fill up at the water point, which was just past a turning place. We cruised on hopefully upstream but didn’t find another place to turn before reaching a lock we couldn't go through. By now it was raining steadily and we had no choice but to reverse all the way back past the water point to the previous turning circle.

Poor Tracey's experience aboard was not the best, but she was great at keeping my spirits up. Back in the town centre, we were joined by another friend, Jess and all had supper together. As they left, Tracey spotted that Jersey Boys was the next show at the theatre across the road and she said it was a good one. Next day I bought 3 tickets for the first night to treat my friends Sheena and Shona to a surprise night out.

My Scottish pals, who live quite remotely, arrived next day and enjoyed the urban delights of Woking, including the musical. Then they helped me back through the locks out of the Basing and back onto the river Wey. The boat became a den of laughter and jollity as I caught up with the news from the highland glen where I used to live.

Nights were like a girly sleepover as we watched scary movies and played scrabble. I missed them when they left.

Ally is a friend with a very busy life as a GP and she visibly relaxed on board Therapy. We left the river Wey and cruised once again out into the river Thames with its electrically operated locks. Chantal joined us again as we cruised through Staines and Ewan was able to meet us for a day on Sunday before the mad, intense period of lambing takes over our lives at home. Lauren also met up with us in Maidenhead for an evening of scrabble.

Much of the Thames is lined with either people's gardens or private land protected by "No Mooring" signs, and more than once we've had to stop the boat at a posh garden for poor Bunty to do a wee. The houses we see from the river are huge and some very ostentatious, as my guidebook suggests, "some illustrate a greater awareness of the value of wealth than of good taste".

I said goodbye to Ally at Marlow then cruised on to look for somewhere to stay the night. All I could see were "no mooring" signs and "strictly no mooring" signs and "moored boats will be clamped" signs, (ok, I jest) but there was a copse of trees on the opposite bank and I crossed to check the sign; I was delighted to read "mooring £5 a night". I tied us up to the trees and jumped off to give the puppy a run. I'm quite tired after a busy week and happy to have a night to myself in this pretty spot.

I'm on the " home straight" now and looking forward to seeing the West Berkshire friends who are meeting me on these last few days.

Best wishes to all,
Sally
X x x

Hello family and friends,

The most remarkable thing about my trip so far has been that it has gone roughly according to my plan. However, for the last few weeks I've been on the river Wey while I would like to have been on the Basingstoke canal which runs very close to my daughter's home in Farnborough. Unfortunately the Basingstoke canal, or "Basing" as it is fondly known, will not open all its locks now until early April but I was told that the first flight are in use and that I could travel as far as Woking, a place I knew little about.

Having brought Therapy back to Guildford last weekend I left her there to have a few days on land with Jenny and her family, have my washing done and play with the children. My plan had been to moor up around the corner from them but I had a lovely time anyway.

On Wednesday morning John and Jill, friends from Scotland met me at Guildford station and became the next crewmembers. John, like most men who take the tiller, quickly learned to control the steering. Women friends are often more reluctant to drive; for some (including me) its not intuitive and we take longer to pick it up.

It was sunny and warm and we had an idyllic journey, quietly cruising back down the river. I had arranged by phone to take Therapy on to the Basing on Thursday and we met the ranger at the junction at 10am. It is fed only by rainwater and every drop must be preserved, so after we had negotiated each lock, he "caulked up" each one behind us by pushing silt into the gaps that would otherwise leak through the gates.

We were the first boat to go up this season and passers by and "live aboard" boaters seemed pleased to see the canal coming to life again. It is a very weedy canal and having gone through the flight of 6 locks poor Therapy was struggling to move. On checking the propeller inspection hatch we found not only handfuls of weeds but plastic bags wrapped around the blades. Its all part of the privilege of being first up the canal!

Moorings often allow us to live in some wonderful places for a short time and in Woking we found a great spot very close to the station, the theatre and an art gallery, yet within yards of Horsell Common woods (where I could take Bunty for walks) and an old oak tree that blew down in 2007 had been carved into a huge horse by the Tree Pirates, led by Captain Chainsaw.

On Friday morning we checked out the headquarters of the World Wildlife Fund (which was also yards away) and a superb display of their work, enjoyed the gallery and had coffee and cake, all before 11am when John and Jill left for Oxford. Jenny's husband then picked me up in the car and we had a fun day with the children in Legoland, followed by supper at their house. Although I'm not around the corner, I'm making the most of being close-ish.

On Saturday I walked into Woking past the theatre and noticed that "Spamalot" was showing. I thought I'd love to go but I'm so reluctant to go by myself. I can drive my narrowboat, stay aboard in any lonely or busy place, I can even manage her through locks by myself but I'm afraid to go to the theatre alone! I gave myself a good talking to and bought a ticket. The show was brilliant and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

As Ewan is getting very busy at home in preparation for lambing, I'm enjoying the last couple of weeks of my journey. I look forward to having time with next week’s guests as we leave the Basing to start the journey on the Thames back to Reading.

Take care,
Warm wishes to all,
From Sally

Hi family and friends,

After taking a week off from my adventures for an amazing holiday in Iceland, I've now returned to the river Wey where I left Therapy, my floating home. Ewan picked me up at the boat to go to the airport and brought me back here afterwards (so no cheating!) and now after nearly 3 months aboard she really does feel like home.

I had a day to restock and clean Therapy before my next friends, Philip and Caroline, my son in law's parents, arrived. We have grandchildren in common so there was lots of praise and photo sharing of our beautiful Mary and gorgeous George. Philip has been a ship's doctor and although a narrow boat is different, they both embraced learning the ropes and even started to think about getting one for themselves.

The weather was fine, if a bit cold, and we made good time up the river Wey to Guildford, where I changed crew. My friends had time to say hello to each other before I put Philip and Caroline on the train and took my Scottish friend Val back to the wharf where Therapy was moored. Despite being 72, Val eagerly took on lock duties, climbing up and down the ladders or jumping onto the boat roof.

We travelled on to Godalming where the limit of navigation is (canal speak for "boats can't go any further") and turned the boat, mooring up in a pleasant open meadow for the night leaving ourselves a couple of hours cruise back to Guildford.

Poor Val drew a short straw in timing her visit, as next day was my 3 monthly check up with my oncologist in Swindon and we needed to be on the train by noon. We were up bright and early and did all our regular checks to the engine. When we moor up in the countryside where there are no mooring posts, we use big stakes, hammered into the ground to hold the mooring ropes.

Val worked at the front (bow) to pull out the stake and cast off while I did the back (the stern) and also pulled in the gangplank. I didn't pay any attention to poor Val's struggle with her peg, and jumped on with rope and plank to find the boat slowly drifting out at the back. I quickly threw the plank back into place but didn't have the courage to use it to get back ashore as it was now 2meters and increasing from the bank.

I had time to pick up the gangplank and take it aboard but in no time the current took the stern and whipped it out into the river. I immediately tried to drive back in but the current was way too strong and quickly reversed the direction of the silly boat- how did that happen???

We tried everything we could think of to turn Therapy back towards Guildford but she just didn't want to go. It was now about 10am and we had a train to catch to Swindon. Flustered, I started looking for turning points upstream but Val was calm and sensible and suggested walking the mile and a half into town.

The day was fine, Bunty enjoyed her first train journey, Ewan met us as planned at Swindon station and all went well at hospital. We took takeaway Chinese food back to the boat for our supper and looked forward to another boating day tomorrow.

Val had a Scottish friend, Anne in Godalming who kindly invited us for supper and so next day we followed the boats nose back to the start of the navigable river. I quickly warmed to Anne and we enjoyed an evening of superb food and lively discussion about Scottish independence.

Val left from Godalming and I spent the next day taking Therapy back to Guildford. I now feel quite confident about taking her through locks by myself, something I thought I would never be able to do. A kind lady on the bridge at one lock even remarked that I made it look easy. The weather has suddenly improved, it's sunny and warm, the birds are singing and spring is in the air. The towpaths are now full of people jogging, strolling, riding bikes and walking dogs, and everyone is happy to say hello and remark on the warm weather. I see several other craft passing me as people bring their boats out of hibernation, and I begin to feel a sense of pride at having come through the winter.

I hope you're enjoying spring too,

Lots of love, Sally

Dear friends and family,

The last time I wrote to you I was in central London, about to make my way out of town by myself. It was forecast to be a very wet day and I'd never moved Therapy anywhere near so far by myself before. I grounded her as I moored up for lunch but otherwise managed well, there being no locks to deal with all the way from Paddington to Maypole Dock where Ewan and I both drew up at 3pm, exactly at the appointed time. I was delighted to see Bunty again (and Ewan too) and was really looking forward to having her back on the boat with me now that I was out of the city. She is a remarkably adaptable puppy and quickly switched from farm routine to boat routine.

Ewan helped me through a couple of locks before dusk and reunited, we settled down for the evening. Ewan had plans to visit his daughter Steph in London next day and an old friend from school, Chantal was meeting me at lunchtime. Following my success the day before I decided to try the next flight of locks, the Hanwell six by myself. As well as opening and closing gates and winding paddles up and down, this meant climbing out of the lock on a side ladder after Therapy was lowered to the bottom of it by the reducing water level. It was tricky. However, at every lock I was helped by passers by and for the final three, a young couple took over the windlasses (the winder things) and then came on board for a cup of tea.

Chantal arrived as planned and we had a very relaxing afternoon with only one lock to get through. Like others, Chantal fell on love with my little dog and tried to hide Bunty about her person when she left.

I pushed on to Brentford where I met Ewan and we moored up for the night. The next stage of our trip was on the tidal Thames and early Sunday morning saw us leaving the Grand Union Canal through a big lock and catching the last two hours of the incoming tide to take us to Teddington. It was very exciting and Therapy seemed very small on the big river.

Ewan had to go back home, but it was now half term holiday and my next guests, my grandchildren, Mary, 8 and George, 6 joined me the next afternoon. Oh yes, and their parents Katy and Mark too. That evening we moored on a small island in the middle of the huge river, that we had to ourselves; it was such fun.

Next day we cruised regally up to Hampton Court Palace, where we met up with more grandchildren, Edith, 4 and Thomas, 2. Oh, and yes their mummy and daddy, Jenny and Struan too. It was a very ​relaxed way to arrive and we pretended to be kings, queens, princes and princesses, (and of course a royal dog) as we disembarked.

The week passed very quickly and in no time we'd got upstream to Shepperton where we left the Thames and took off on a much smaller river, the Wey. It was time to say goodbye to the children and extricate Bunty from their luggage.

Its tough being on holiday for such a long period, so Ewan and I had arranged for a little holiday from this long holiday- tomorrow we will be going to Iceland. But that's another tale...

The trip is going by very quickly and there will be only 4 weeks left when I come back from my holiday. Some people have not managed time on the Voyage of Friendship and there are only two nights when the bed is still free, Tuesday 23rd and Wednesday 24th March when I'll be on the Thames around Windsor. Let me know if you'd like to join me. Also, you are very welcome to come aboard for a day, or even a couple of hours, anytime over the next month; I'm really looking forward to seeing some of my former work colleagues as I get nearer and nearer to home reaching Newbury on Friday 27th March.

Love and best wishes,
Sally
X x x

Hello family and friends,

I've been in London this week and what an adventure it's been. As one dear friend (who should know better as she lives aboard a boat!) said after her visit "I had no idea there were canals in London".

Having moved from moorings at Little Venice to a quiet spot at Primrose Hill I was staggered when my stepdaughter Steph arrived on Saturday morning and took me a few hundred yards up the towpath to Camden Lock market. Lauren, a youth work colleague who also knew the market joined us and we explored all kinds of stalls. I bought some neon shoelaces that subsequently shone beautifully in the next tunnel.

Next to arrive were Orla and Hilary, colleagues from the Youth Offending Team who brought huge quantities of bedding, food andtreats for us all for the weekend. With a novice all girl crew we set off to do our first lock, Camden lock, which is overlooked by food stalls, pubs and a crowded bridge; on a very busy Saturday afternoon, it meant for us some very public boating. Gosh, we were fantastic!

We spent a surprisingly quiet night in Islington enjoying all the nice food and drink. Next day was gloriously sunny and my brother "can't keep away Bob", joined me with his wife Angie. I'm sure he's hoping that she'll enjoy it as much as he does. Heading east on the river Lee towards Stratford where Steph lives, I was disappointed to find that all the waterways around the Olympic park were blocked and we couldn't get close. However, we were approaching Limehouse Basin from where boats go through a big lock on to the Thames.

Spaces were short and we moored up outside a scruffy warehouse and walked the last half-mile. It was full of ocean-going sailing boats and looked gorgeous in the setting sun. What's more there was only one boat in the visitor moorings leaving plenty of space for Therapy.

My team raced back to fetch her and moored her proudly among the big boats just as the sun set. Bobby and Angie had to say goodbye, then Hilary and Orla too. It had been a great weekend.

I stood on the roof so that Jennie could see me, after all we were a small boat in a big pond. I know Jennie from my community worker days in the Highlands of Scotland and we had some very happy memories to mull over.... which was just as well as I discovered while having a shower that the boats water pump was broken. After some 'phone calls we bought some big containers of water and decided to push on until I could find a boatyard. Poor Jennie didn't
complain but quickly picked up lock duties and fell in love with Therapy and life aboard. Even when, a day later, during a routine call with Ewan, I realised that the water tank had simply run out, she​ didnt make fuss but continued to enjoy the experience. Perhaps it had something to do with the happy news that her second grandchild was born today and a huge smile never left her face.

My good friend Sue met us as Therapy retraced her route back along the Regents canal to Islington and back to Camden lock, where I now knew my way around and sniffed out some good food. Here Jennie left us and we stayed again at the quiet spot at Primrose Hill. Next day, it was back through the zoo, back through Regents Park, back through Maida Vale tunnel (with glowing shoe laces) and back to my favourite mooring in Little Venice. Sue stayed another night and kept me company with some essential jobs like laundry and restocking with food and gas.

A few months ago I was interviewed by email and telephone by a journalist writing an article about womb cancer for the Guardian.

Daloni works hard to raise awareness of this wretched disease, and now here she was trotting along the towpath to meet me. She lives in Kent and came up to Paddington bearing warm, homemade bread for me. We quickly felt like old friends and spent the rest of the day cruising back to the zoo and of course chatting.

After a week of continuous company I was alone again and planning the next stage of my journey. I'm not skilled or brave enough to return by the Thames, past Westminster, the London eye and houses of parliament, so I must now return up the Grand Union to the junction where I can take a left turn to Brentford and join the tidal Thames further upstream. And for the first time on the voyage I'm travelling alone. I'll let you know how I get on.

Warmest wishes, Sally