hidden marks and messages
in our canal network
masons' marks
Whilst travelling around the inland waterways network I have been interested to see dates, inscriptions and shapes cut into the stones that form the canals, especially around the lock chambers. The smaller hand chiselled inscriptions are Masons’ marks, more specifically, Banker marks. Banker marks are made by the skilled stone masons who cut the quarry stones into the regularly squared blocks or more complex sections of a structure. These people were almost always paid more than the stone worker who built with the stone. Documental evidence describes the way that masons were paid. With piece-work frequently the norm and it is this that accounts for the use of banker masons’ marks. Masons’ marked their stones to let the paymaster know how much work they had done. They would have undergone lengthy training before they were able to achieve the accuracy that was needed to do their work.


There is little evidence to suggest the way in which masons’ marks were allocated. They may have chosen their own marks or been given one when they joined a site. Later masons sometimes based their mark on the master that trained them. 20th Century masons often used their initials joined in a pattern. Marks sometimes form groups and this may indicate that they belonged to a team of masons who worked together. An example of this is a mark like a capital letter ‘W’ which can be found in that form or with extra strokes across the ends of one or more lines. The marks are mostly drawn freehand although compasses are sometimes used for marks based on circles and consist of lines that meet or cross in a pattern. The marks are made with a chisel or a punch and a point is sometimes used to drill the ends of the lines. Although it was important that marks were not easy to confuse it is clear that masons did not spend a long time cutting elaborate marks made up of a large number of lines. Most marks consist of between four to six lines and marks of more than seven or eight are rare.
date inscriptions
Many of the locks that I have passed through have stone plaques at their entrances showing the date that the lock was completed. Two of the most notable examples that I saw were displayed on Grand Union Leicester Line flight between Loughborough and Leicester and on The Leeds Liverpool canal as it passes through Wigan. The latter depicts the date as Roman numerals. The inscriptions ranged from very detailed, precise carvings on selected stones to more prosaic and simple legends.





This plaque commemorating John Tasker can be seen in lock 6 on the Ashton canal just outside of Manchester: I wonder who he was?
EDITOR'S NOTE
A short while ago I had an email from a lady named Clare Tasker. She writes that Susan Gebbels "mentions and shows a picture of a plaque commemorating John Tasker at lock 6 on the Ashton Canal just outside Manchester. She asks the question "I wonder who he was?" John Tasker was my father and he worked for British Waterways from 1980 - 2003 (when he retired). The plaque was put there by his friend the lock keeper Shaun after he died in 2006. My dad was a big Man City fan, hence its location near the Etihad Stadium. He truly loved his job on the canals / cut - even in the winter with the ice."
Clare also included some photos of her father.

John Tasker

John Tasker's British Waterways badge























So, for pancakes, I’m sure most of us know a pancake recipe. The easiest one I have used in the past is simply:
Back to wild garlic, there are endless uses, pesto being a favourite, which I’m going to put together on a separate article because I’m running out of the suggested 1,000 word guideline. This weekend I made Salmon and Wild Garlic Potato Rosti Cakes with a Sweetcorn Salsa. I also made a new potato salad with wild garlic and mayonnaise and served with some salad leaves. Here’s the recipe:-
Oh well, I suppose I had better regain some grasp on reality, and even your average Viking didn’t use the boat during the winter, much preferring to hole up somewhere, pull the boats out of the water, stock up on booze and food and wait for spring. Indeed, I remember a time when all boating roughly followed suit from October, to re start again at Easter. Indeed, many vessels buried under a heavy-duty tarpaulin (not the flappy things you buy now that rip in a force 3) away from the damaging weather, all items removed for storage to the garden shed at home standing a better chance to be eaten by mice, which amuses me seeing as we don’t get many on the Kennet and Avon so its better off on the boat.


Samuel married a Runcorn girl and the first of at least 8 children arrived in 1786. By now the canal was open from Manchester to Liverpool, and on through to the Midlands via the Trent and Mersey. This was a time of huge changes across the country. As the industrial revolution kicked off thanks to the canals, the agricultural revolution gained speed as well, but the technological advances meant less manpower was needed to work the land. Samuel must have realised quite quickly that there simply wasn’t going to be enough farm to share among his 4 sons.
At this time, the wharf was thriving. It was the only true through-route to the Midlands and would remain so until the opening of the Macclesfield canal in 1831. It was shipping hundreds of thousands of tonnes of goods every year, and its warehousing was gradually spreading across the site.
In 1851 we see William at the head of a family well acquainted to the wharf. He is a warehouse porter, along with son Thomas. Youngest son William is now a boatman, and the eldest son, Peter, is “porter for canal carrier.” Peter and his wife Ann have just welcomed their third child to the world and the two older children are staying with their grandfather to give mum a chance to recover. Also in the house is Samuel. Now 62, he is given the description of “inferior from youth,” so it would be reasonable to assume that he is now unable to work. Perhaps the increase in machinery, for the wharf now has a mighty steam engine powering it’s hoists and cranes, has made it too dangerous.
Buying a narrowboat is a consideration not to be taken lightly. We bought our boat to cruise the cut and experience the nature and the seasons at close hand, to visit all the places that the canal system granted us access to and spend time in the company of kindred spirits. The quintessential English idyl that many dream of, however, as in life, things conspire, plans change and sometimes matters can unravel very quickly.
Primarily the lack of space, the required tools and building materials along with clothes, food and all the essentials needed for cooking and eating, washing and dressing, somewhere to sit, somewhere to sleep, it may sound odd but with so little room, we must move things about just to be able to work.
It’s not just the geography, the landscapes and the flora and fauna that requires our further investigation and quiet contemplation, it’s the journey of self-exploration and expression. Getting off the hamster wheel is a life choice and trade off; we have given up comfort and security to slow right down. We may not have an alarm, but the clock is relentless and being able to enjoy our fitness and good health to pursue ones’ aspirations is our reward.
A major contributing factor for our mental wellbeing is being able to live within this close-knit community of persons who are alternative thinkers, decision makers and risk takers. The achievers that choose their destiny and find their own and unique pathways, gives us a sense of belonging and helps us feel comfortable as our adventure unfolds. It’s also a very social environment that requires our engagement and attendance of events and some considerable quaffing. After all, your vibe is our tribe eh!