Last night brought the first deep frost of the year. With the morning sun, our surroundings shone with an ethereal beauty. Jack Frost had been busy overnight.

Jack Frost has an unclear history. There are numerous stories of his origin, but all agree that he brings the frost and ice of winter. In some he is also responsible for colouring the leaves in autumn. The term ‘jack’ was once used similarly to ‘lad’. ‘Jack the Lad’ was used for a brash young man, a bit of a show-off. A jackanapes was a mischievous, impudent rascal. Jack o’ lanterns were lights flickering over a bog, perhaps to mislead travellers. So, Jack Frost’s name would seem appropriate to the stories told of him.

Although drawn in the shape of a person, the character is always ‘other-worldly’, fairy-like, elvish or a sprite. There are frequent crossovers to other personifications of winter such as Old Man Winter.

The earliest printed reference to Jack Frost is a brief mention in a 1734 leaflet called Round About Our Coal Fire, or Christmas Entertainments.2 The author describes the winter season as “when Jack Frost commonly takes us by the Nose”.

In stories, poems and pictures, his age can be young or old, and his character ranges from fun, through mischievous, to being a prankster and occasionally darker and more mysterious. His portrayal is not generally one of kindness.

The 1875 poem 'Little Jack Frost. A Rhyme for Flossie', by Charles Sangster (3) creates a vivid picture of Jack Frost:

‘Nobody saw him, still he was there.
Nose-biting, prank-playing, everywhere,
All through the houses, out in the street,
Capering wildly through storm and sleet.’

The undated poem 'The Frost' by Hannah Gould (1789-1865) (4) takes him one step further, when, in the last verse, frozen fruit and shattered crockery and glass are seen as revenge.

‘But he did one thing that was hardly fair;
He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there
That all had forgotten for him to prepare –
“Now just to set them a-thinking,
I’ll bite this basket of fruit,” said he,
“This costly pitcher I’ll burst in three,
And glass of water they’ve left for me
Shall ‘tchich!’ to tell them I’m drinking.”’

In the short stories of Jack Frost and Betty Snow; with other tales for wintry nights and rainy days, by John M. Chanter et al. of 1858, (5) Jack Frost and his wife are portrayed as even more impulsive spirits who freeze everything and even kill.

I’m hoping that this year, Jack Frost concentrates on his artwork!

References

1. Maxfield Parrish (1936) Jack Frost. Magazine cover for Collier’s.

2. Anonymous (Earlier editions) (1734) Round About Our Coal Fire, or Christmas Entertainments.

3. Charles Sangster (1875) Little Jack Frost. A Rhyme for Flossie.

4. Hannah Gould (undated) The Frost.

5. John M. Chanter et al. (1858) Jack Frost and Betty Snow; with other tales for wintry nights and rainy days.

6. Margaret Tarrant (1927) Jack Frost illustration from 'The Weather Fairies'.

Keats’ description of Autumn brings to mind a rich image and a distinct feeling, with the growing chill in the air, the earthy scent of leaves underfoot and the rich colours of the trees, hedgerows and fields.

Inevitably, the less barriers that you have between yourself and nature, the more you will see the changes that happen as the seasons move from one to another. Living, or spending time, on a boat, puts you in almost direct contact with the environment as you navigate your way along canal or river.

The term “Autumn” has been with us since the 1300s. “The fall”, which I always consider as particularly American, was, in fact, in common use in England until the end of the 1600s. The “falling” and “springing” of the leaves were physical changes that measured the seasons for our forebears.

Autumn is a time of change. The colours of the leaves and fruits on trees, along with the crops in the fields, create a tapestry across the landscape. Vincent van Gough said, “As long as Autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas and colours enough to paint the beautiful things I see. (1) In truth, this beauty is a sign of shorter, colder days, which themselves presage a time when nature will sleep.

The falling of the leaves, the gathering in of the harvest and that period of rest are all necessary to make space for new growth in the coming spring. In the same way, for us, we may need to reflect the changes of the seasons, to be ready for what next year brings.

(1)Letter from Vincent van Gough to Theo van Gogh. Arles, c.26 September 1888.

In a past life, I was an occupational therapy service manager with an office base at St Bernard’s Hospital, on the Uxbridge Road, in West London. At the time it was the mental health wing of the local NHS Trust. It had once been Hanwell Pauper and Lunatic Asylum, renowned for initiating therapeutic employment and discontinuing the management of patients by mechanical restraint. ¹

In the 1830s, the grounds of the asylum were farmed by the residents and the asylum was self-sufficient, with a laundry, bakery and brewery.

The Grand Union Canal runs behind the wall at the southern boundary of the site. It was not until I was on our boat going up the Hanwell flight that I noticed the bricked-up entrance to the asylum’s own docks, where barges delivered coal and took away surplus produce for sale. ²

There was an information board which made me realise, here was a completely different view and understanding of the St Bernard’s site. I really valued having new insight into where I had once had my office.

Time and time again, while journeying along the canal, you see buildings or relics from the past. You read personal accounts of how individuals and families lived and worked on or alongside the canals. Canals can give you a different view of life, past and current.

As we travelled further north last Autumn, we couldn’t help but notice the mills which dominate the skyline. Rock Nook textile mill, at Summit on the Rochdale Canal, was still standing when I took this photo. It struck me how church-like the tower is.

In Victorian times, the mill must have been as dominant and influential in the lives of local people as Holy Trinity Church, in nearby Littleborough. With dereliction, fire and now the demolition of the mill, this part of the local industrial history has gone.

The canals are a huge part of the nation’s history, but does that justify saving and maintaining old buildings, or creating museums and experiences to educate visitors? It’s a difficult question to consider when there doesn’t seem to be enough in the pot to maintain the current waterways.

I wonder if this links to my previous article which asked how to engage locals to care for and enjoy their local stretch of canal? Historic places promote the human stories of the people who built, lived, or worked in them.³

In learning these stories, people may see how the structure and culture of their communities have been shaped. If people can make a link with their local canal history, might they become invested in maintaining it today?

1.  St Bernard’s Hospital, Hanwell
   Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Bernard%27s_Hospital,_Hanwell
2.  Lost Hospitals of London - St Bernard’s Hospital
   Available at: https://ezitis.myzen.co.uk/stbernards.html
3.  Preservation Virginia website
   Available at: https://preservationvirginia.org/why-preservation-what-are-the-benefits

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change¹

Over the Autumn we made our way along the Rochdale Canal from Manchester to Sowerby Bridge. At various places along the canal, we were warned away from stopping, primarily by other boaters, but also by CRT volunteers and once a local security person.

I have read of real attacks on boats and boaters and do not doubt that they happen, but now I wonder how much my personal perception of possible danger was based on reality, or how much it was fed and encouraged by rumour and anxiety. All the negative warnings we were given early on our journey certainly coloured my experience of the south end of the Rochdale but we didn’t actually experience any real trouble. Although the Manchester end of the canal comes across as unloved at times, there are many people who volunteer to keep this canal beautiful.

When we moor, we always try to find a place with other boaters, where the towpath is well used by dog-walkers, runners and others, or is so remote that no one is likely to bother us. The only real nuisance we have ever experienced was on the Macclesfield canal when we had our ropes partially untied by a youth, probably as part of a dare. Ironically, at that time we were moored with others on visitor moorings. It would seem that you can’t plan for everything!

Once on the Rochdale, when waiting for a lock to fill, I stood talking to a passerby. He was bemoaning the state of the canal so I asked him what he would do to change it. How would he engage locals to care for and enjoy their local stretch of canal? Sadly, we didn’t come up with any instant answers during our chat.

In August 2022, the results of a study into the benefits gained from visiting canals and rivers were published. It found ‘positive associations between visits to canals and rivers and mental wellbeing, as well as a positive experience for feelings of safety and social inclusion relative to all other types of environments.’²

It is easy to see this when you experience the most beautiful areas of the canal network, but is it possible to create the same positive association when stretches of the canal have become no-go areas?

How can those areas be reclaimed as places for everyone to enjoy and benefit from? CRT, who supported the above study, believe that it is possible. Their website provides information on the possible economic, environmental and social well-being benefits of waterways.³  Is it something we, as boaters, can play a part in, along with other local stakeholders? Can we see canals and canal communities as part of a real and sustainable answer to wider social issues? It’s an interesting conversation to have.

1. Wayne Dyer, author and speaker.

2. Bergou N et al (2022) The mental health benefits of visiting canals and rivers: An ecological momentary assessment study. PLOS ONE. Available at: https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0271306

3. Canal & River Trust (2020) The values and benefits of waterways. Available at: https://canalrivertrust.org.uk/specialist-teams/planning-and-design/planning-policy/the-values-and-benefits-of-waterways

Several times I have heard it said that lockdown proved most people can work from home. This was true for myself as a freelance writer and my husband as a company director. Previously, my mother had been living with us, but when she moved into a care home and my sister took over as her main family carer, it allowed us to consider a different way of living.

Narrowboating runs in my husband’s blood, but not mine. We had talked about living on a narrowboat ‘one day’ without giving it too much thought, but it had suddenly become possible. For me, the idea was both exciting but also nerve-wracking. It was going to be a huge learning experience.

Very early on, my mother-in-law gave me Susan Woolfitt’s book, Idle Women. These were the volunteers of WW2 who kept the supplies moving on the canals. Prior to their recruitment, there was a belief in some quarters that women would not be strong enough. An official from the Transport Ministry suggested women would be unable to open a lock gate. Instead, they would ‘just have to sit down and wait till somebody came along to help them.' ¹

Eventually, the Ministry of War Transport’s only requisite was that those who applied needed to be ‘of robust constitution'.¹ Looking at alternative words for ‘robust’ you will find healthy and vigorous, strong, tough and forceful. Also, but perhaps less appealing, are full-bodied and stout! It makes you wonder what a woman needs to be in order to live and work on the canals.

Since we bought our fourth-hand boat, we have met and negotiated with many engineers and craftspeople. I have come to realise that there aren’t many women involved in the canal-side nuts, bolts, grease, saws, hammers and varnish of narrowboat work and wondered why this is. In June this year, CRT had an online piece celebrating women in leading engineering roles, which was encouraging, but there were no examples of women at a more local level.²

I did an O-level in engineering many years ago, hoping to make it my career. My experience of that single year put me off due to the completely inappropriate behaviour directed at me and that was just the tutor! This experience has always made me wary of openly taking on a role, or activity that is seen as traditionally male-led. If I bury my head in the engine bay of the boat, I am just waiting for a passer-by to make a comment. This is only my perception and I know it’s not everyone’s choice, but I wonder if this fear and wariness of other peoples’ responses is what keeps women from being a visible part of the local canal workforce or being the ones maintaining the boats.

Maybe for some, it’s about self-belief. ‘Can I, as a woman, carry out such and such a task?’ An inspiring piece in the Guardian online from last year, captured how skilled women are battling to find gender parity in the boat-building industry.³

They described being ‘outsiders’ and ‘made to prove themselves’, but also believed that anything is possible. I hope that as we travel, we will meet more women who are happy with having oily hands and paint-covered trousers. I know that I am loving the learning and I am growing in confidence and I am finally using the skills of that long-ago O-level.

1. Staveley-Wadham R (2021) Far From ‘Idle:’ The Women Canal Workers of the Second World War. The British Newspaper Archive. Available here
2. Canal & River Trust (2023) Celebrating our women in engineering. CRT. Available here
3. Larner C (2022) ‘We are outsiders’: the female boatbuilders of Instagram. The guardian.org. Available here