Monthly Archives: September 2023

canals on the decline

dawncraft chronicles

canals on the decline

We live in a canal side cottage, or rather we did in 1805 when the Somerset Coal Canal was opened. The canal actually ran so close that they piled the earth up against the cottage, so the kitchen appears to be 3-foot underground. Indeed, the neighbours still have the bridge in the garden and the loading bay for the earth mill. An evening's walk to the pub in Combe Hay passes bridges well cut with gritty ropes, and deserted locks complete with gates that haven’t seen a barge since 1898. It was then that the canal was replaced by the Camerton Branch Railway – which ran almost through the bottom of the garden and was immortalised by the 1950s film the Titfield Thunderbolt (about a group of railway enthusiast who wanted to save their line).

This sort of leads us neatly into this article as I have just read Sou'wester, the Inland Waterways Magazine and this has got me thinking.

The work being carried out and dedication to the cause should be applauded and recognised: parts of the old Coal Canal in Timsbury and Paulton now have water in them for the first time in over 120 years. Add this to work on Wilts and Berks, various canals in Gloucester etc., and it could be true to say that there are as many canal projects on the go now as there were during the  canal mania (the period of intense canal building in England and Wales between the 1790s and 1810s). One cannot but think the future of our network is a foregone conclusion considering the benefits to wildlife and to humans with walking, cycling and water pursuits. Plus the re-instatement of a simpler slow pace of life.

However, my concern is history will repeat itself.

The Somerset Coal Canal is a good point: it was extremely profitable in its day, making money for the company and more importantly for its share holders,  by moving a commodity that was becoming essential for the industrial revolution - coal. The canal was shut down and business converted to rail, because you could move more coal quickly and easily and thus make even more money. Until, eventually, 50 years after it was built, that too closed down because they mined out. The Bath council made good use of the canal's bed by filling it with the town's rubbish- which promptly caught fire and burnt for years !!! but is still a good source of old railings, glass bottles - you name it (even most of the toilet block from the old Somerset and Dorset railway station)!

Combe Hay, Bath derelict lock

Dundas - Coal Canal near Bath

So here’s the rub in the same magazine DEFRA have cut the grant to CRT by £12.6m a year. to quote the magazine, that means that means:

  • Being unable to do winter maintenance on 586 miles of waterway.
  • Being unable to operate maintain and repair 156 miles of waterway.
  • 50 0/0 of the spend on reservoirs will be unfunded (one assumes these are to feed the canals with water?)

Add into this a recent BBC article on the Regent Canal boat dwellers, which I felt was skewed to highlight the fact that most residential canal boaters burn fossil fuel – the very thing the canals were built to transport - as well as running their diesel engines for hours in the winter to make and store a minimal amount of electricity compared to the energy used to make it – all rather bluntly pointed out in the article.

We are all struggling financially, none of us can really sustain an increase in licence fees, along with fuel costs etc. We have tightened our belts to the last hole and there’s worse: we have no time. Many of the people who are near retirement, or have already retired, are now raising grandchildren to keep their own children working to pay the endless bills. The skills required to maintain and restore a canal are dwindling, "retired stone masons , blacksmiths, brickies..." Soon the only skill any one can offer will be  "management or IT".

If we are going to save our way of life, we all need to start thinking up better arguments than environmental / green and social benefits and concentrate on the only thing government ministers ever understand. They are, I suppose, the equivalent of the old shareholders £ Sterling, and their 20% cut on any revenues raised. Today we have grown weary of the deadline headline. Ten years to save the planet, etc and gluing yourself to a canal could be problematic. However, I am concerned that history will repeat itself and the slow painful decline of our precious waterways will become evident by the end of my time.

should we stay or should we go?

should we stay or should we go...

Our travels this year so far have been anything but straightforward with the amount of different issues we've had with every canal we've been on.

We've had restrictions due to low water levels, broken locks and bridges on the Macclesfield, Trent and Mersey and the Peak Forest canals so far.

We're currently 'stuck' on the Peak Forest Canal because of a broken lift bridge, although we did have the opportunity to leave the canal on an assisted passage before CRT closed the bridge a few weeks ago.

We chose to make the decision to stay between Bugsworth Basin and the broken bridge (24) because there's just so much to do in the area and we love the town of New Mills.

Edale

map of the Peak Forest Canal

There are 2 train lines running through New Mills giving us access to Sheffield, Manchester, Buxton and the Peak District and as we're keen walkers, we're happy to be able to walk in so many beautiful places.

We've been to Edale, Hathersage and Grindleford to walk in the surrounding areas and visited the East Lancashire Railway via Manchester and Bury.

New Mills is a great little town with a real community and there are fabulous cafés and pubs everywhere.

New Mills

Edale

It seems perverse to choose to stay in one place whilst living on a narrow boat, but being able to fully immerse ourselves in the area feels very special and it really will be a struggle to leave when the bridge is finally mended....let's hope it's not too soon, we've still got walks to do!

NB Grace at Bugsworth Basin

Cracked Edge, with Karen and Rob

washing day

the boating bard

washing day

I've been feeling wishy washy
On this narrow boat of mine
I'm an uneasy Widow Twanky
Cast in a personal pantomime

I have urgent laundry needs
The basket is very full,
But the weather's not looking too favourable
The skies are grey and dull

You can almost guarantee it
As the machine begins to drain
There'll be a few preliminary spots
Followed closely by biblical rain

washing hanging up to dry

There are hazards of drying inside
There'll be moisture in the air
But I need to get my washing on
Because I'm short of underwear

There'll be a lot of condensation
On windows, blinds and bungs
Misting up my plastic cratch covers
And settling on my lungs

With dripping knickers and socks
and damp clothing in my face
Every available surface gets used
But there's really not the space

I've a couple of collapsible airers
And folding spider creations
And radiators that I won't turn on
Not keen on steamy inhalations

Towels are a drying nightmare
They don't vaporise as they should
In Winter I put them by the fire
But then they stink of coal and wood

Drying bedding is most unwieldy
Ghostly sheets hang upon the doors
Pillow cases drape like wet bunting
And I can't cope with all the vapours

I could book for a service wash
If I can find a launderette
But I don't air my washing in public
Preferring my soils to stay private

rags to rich things

rags to rich things

Part of the joy of owning a canal boat is having a floating second home. It is here that you can really go to town with decor.

This is the space to get in touch with your inner eccentric.

A canal boat can be as unique as you are.

Bright colours, everything painted, not so much retro as nineteenth century, capturing the essence of the original boat traders.

Crafts are back as YouTube means that skills are easy to learn and the growth of knit and natter style crafting groups makes it easy to pick more experienced brains (and hands) for tips and advice.

Rag work is great. Charity shops are overflowing with fabric. Coffee shops sell (or even give away) hessian sacks. Rag rugs are easy to make, machine washable, apt for a canal boat and add that little touch of you, your own work, your own style, to your floating home.

With a little forethought you can co-ordinate fabric in patchwork and rugs. Scatter cushions are a good project as they are small enough to complete in a month of evenings.

Beginning a large project like a quilt is best left until you really do have the time to get to the end.

Rugs grow quickly and can be made in an hour here and an hour there.

Bunting is very in at the moment. It’s easy to make and adds a great touch to your boat. Just make a triangle pattern from any old paper. A4 is an ideal size to cut down. An afternoon with a sewing machine is ample to make enough bunting for a boat. After all, the whole point of messing about on a canal is to have fun. Bunting says party. This is what you chose your boat for isn’t it?

If you are interested in making your own rag rugs you may like to check out my YouTube video by clicking on the link below.

The disadvantage is that your friends will soon be asking you to make a rug for them too.

Rag work can also be addictive. You’ll soon find yourself trawling charity shops for interesting fabric. It’s great fun.

grounding advice from rcr

grounding advice from rcr

River Canal Rescue says a recent callout on the river Severn, where a vessel became grounded upstream after taking the wrong turn at a junction, underlines the importance of knowing what to do if a boat becomes stuck. And with low water levels, sand bank and silt build-ups, debris and weed-filled waterways increasing the risk of grounding, RCR managing director, Stephanie Horton, offers the following advice:

Grounding can occur anywhere if you stray from the middle of the water course, cut a corner to take the shortest route or fail to check water levels before setting off. It’s therefore really important to find out, where possible, the protocols and what’s happening in the area you plan to navigate. Situations will develop all the time, so be aware of the risks around you and be cautious while cruising.

If you run aground, put on a life jacket and put your boat in reverse to see if you can move away from the obstruction. If this doesn’t work, walk around the vessel testing the surrounding water depth with a boat pole. This will pinpoint where the water’s shallower and where the problem is. On rivers you can usually see it - rocks or gravel for example - as the water’s clearer.

narrowboat grounded

If the front of the boat’s grounded, move some of the ballast that may be holding it down. The water tank is always at the front of a narrowboat so turn on the taps to empty it and move heavy items such as gas bottles, the anchor and any chains to the rear – this will give the boat more buoyancy at the front and potentially lift it a vital few inches which may be all it needs to clear itself. Half a ton of water can create a six inch difference. If it does clear, put the boat in reverse.

If the boat’s grounded on one side, it’s a similar scenario; move anything that’s weighing it down in this area to the opposite side. Do this in cautious stages - if you over-balance, the vessel will list and it could end up taking on water.

If there are people onboard, position yourself at the helm and ask the remainder to rock the boat gently; the momentum may move it. If the rear of the boat’s aground and the propeller’s lifted (which is a rare scenario), you’ll probably need a tow.

While it’s tempting to ask a passing boater for a tow, this should only be undertaken by an experienced boater. We’ve had cases where the person towing the vessel has got into trouble and we’ve ended up rescuing two boats. Also, anyone on a hire boat will invalidate their insurance if they try to tow you, so it’s better not to put them in that position in the first place.

If you‘re able to free your vessel, check it thoroughly at the first possible opportunity – particularly the hull – as this could have been damaged.

During the peak season, RCR regularly gives phone assistance to people who have become stuck, and although many callers are then able to move their boats, around 40% require support from a rescue team.

living on a boat

living on a boat

that's too darned small to live on

a tale from Amanda's perspective...

When you’re young and you run away from all that you know, you don’t really get time to think of anything much that is practical. You just go, often to be picked up by concerned and somewhat annoyed family members a few hours later. When I embarked on my waterways adventure I really was at least practical enough to get as many home comforts aboard as I could but I never thought about spring turning to summer and thence to autumn and colder weather.

Much as I love her, Mayfly is just fifteen feet and six inches long, made of rather thin wood, has no heating and very little space. Way back when I was a stroppy teenager though, this was my chosen home as we set off to prove that you could carry cargo (ours being a box of wristwatches) and to sort the situation that made me take the seemingly desperate measure of effectively stowing away on a boat belonging to someone I hardly knew. My parents were, out of necessity, in Spain so there wasn’t anybody around to repossess me as we set off on what a lot of people would see as a fool’s errand.

wintry shot of canal

moored boats

The weather was kind to us at first but time does move on and the almost imperceptible signs of a turn towards the autumnal started encroaching. Colder mornings, shorter nights, rain and drizzle making just about everything damp. Even my socks went mouldy one day, which could have put me off the lifestyle but didn’t. What I was becoming aware of was the fact that this part of the adventure was finite. I still loved where I was though and kept coming up with seemingly daft ideas, one of which was to keep the cabin warm at night with hot bricks in an old deed box. It worked a bit and we felt like we’d beaten the weather as we watched the leaves turn brown and then fall all over the place.

This may be very picturesque to the photographer or calendar maker but when you are trying to work a lock whilst walking on a surface that feels like it’s been treated with the best quality axle grease, the romance can fade a little. Actually, after the third time you land on your backside whilst working your way up a flight of narrow locks, I can assure you that it fades quite a lot! There’s always a but though and I remember so well the feeling of triumph over adversity as we sailed out of the top lock. We were both well plastered with mud and it was drizzling but it was another obstacle that I’d traversed without any injury, except to my pride!

Frost was a new thing which, when added to the leaves, made life really treacherous but we still plodded on with out little boat and its polished black outboard. If anything, the weather brought out a sort of house proudness that neither of us knew we had. Yes, of course, we were two youngsters travelling around in rather less regulated times, on waterways that the government would have loved to have filled in. We often travelled all day, or days even, without seeing another boat on the move or even a human being.

moored boats on canal

lonely canal

Mayfly could have been filthy and smelly but she wasn’t. Every bit that was made of brass was burnished until it was so bright it could have been mistaken for gold, the woodwork buffed up with the beeswax polish that I liberated from what had been my home before I was evicted by people that wrongly thought it was theirs. Finally that shiny black outboard was shone up with some very good car wax that we bought during the summer when our funds were in a bit better shape. If I felt any remorse for running away, or lack of enthusiasm for the next day, all I had to do was take a look at this beautiful little varnished clinker cabin cruiser that was little more than a day boat and I felt that all would be well.

We were clueless back then, even to the point of not being sure if the strip of water we were moving along was a canal, a remaindered waterway or (heaven forbid) a cruiseway! We achieved things almost by accident but still we progressed. To say that it changed my life would be understatement. It pretty much blew everything I knew clean out of the water. We were not supposed to be where we were and certainly doomed to failure according to pretty much all prevailing opinion. The fact is that we were both alive, well fed, mostly warm, and progressing. I was aware that the progression would eventually lead to us having to return to what was my home and face the music but that wasn’t for the moment we lived in. We were facing up to the ever worsening weather as well as the tasks we’d set ourselves and we appeared to be slowly winning.

Of course now I’m a lot older, and Mayfly is sitting as beautiful as ever on the water whilst the leaves slowly begin to match her beautifully varnished hull and cabin. I can’t help thinking how absolutely stupid I must have been to even think of setting off on a voyage with a stranger over half a century ago when I was still of school age. Back then though there was an atmosphere that anybody could do anything and big changes were afoot, so I went without a second thought. My reflective mood was set off by a radio program about diaries from various celebrities’ school years and what advice they’d give themselves from today’s standpoint if they could. What would I say to my young self if I was suddenly plonked back over fifty years
to that first day. My answer is nothing at all. I’d do the same again in a shot and I blooming well know it!