For Timothy West and Prunella Scales, nothing compares to narrow-boating.  Yet they both developed a passion for canal cruising for diametrically opposing yet surprisingly similar reasons: "I'm rather a 'snail' person," explains Prunella, "I like to carry my home with me.  I don't really like travelling, to do with childhood, being evacuated and careering round the world when my father was in the army."  Similar reasons had the opposite effect on Timothy; "I adore travel, having been evacuated and my father being an actor so it's strange really."

Neither Prunella nor Timothy's childhood love of boating stems from canals. "Not canals but rivers," says Timothy; "my father was very fond of boats.  We used to go on the Thames in launches."

Prunella fondly remembers the sea: "I've always had the most tremendous thing about water. " She says, "I remember when I was little wanting to sail around the world in a square-rigged ship. I grew up spending a lot of time by the sea and always longed to sail like the kids in Swallows and Amazons."
"I can crew, I do what I'm told, but I couldn't sail single-handed.  We took care that the boys went to sailing school when they were little to learn to sail properly.  But they love the canals as well.  We tend to think that people who sail in dinghies and yachts won't abide canal boats, but actually they love it."

Timothy explained what brought them to canals years later; "we were lent a boat by an actress friend on the Oxford canal when our kids were very young.  They had the most marvellous holiday, and the great thing was that they got so wonderfully tired, working locks and swing bridges."  Prunella agrees; "They'd have supper and go to sleep.  We'd chat and play chess or whatever and it was a wonderful holiday for us all."  They were hooked.  "That was our first canal holiday and we both fell for it completely and in the end bought a half share in that boat."
Some years ago, their son Joe, then aged ten, took his parents' instruction a little too literally when, while carrying a windlass in each hand, he fell into the canal.  "He was perfectly able to swim, actually quite a competent swimmer, but he'd been told never to drop a windlass," says Prunella.  "He sank like a stone," laughs Timothy, "and as he came up for the third time, we had to tell him to drop them!"

"Canal people are tremendously helpful," says Timothy, "and there's a community and if you're in trouble, they'll always help you."  Timothy explained that they were grateful for such help last year;  "we lost a mooring and the boat drifted out into the middle of the canal with nobody on board."  Fortunately for both, a passing canoeist came to their rescue, recovering the mooring rope.

Timothy obviously draws an enormous pleasure at the helm.  "There's just enough to do to think that you're not being carried along on somebody else's say-so.  There's a certain amount of skill involved in navigating a narrow boat and handling all the locks and bridges is interesting and informative.  You learn an awful lot about a fascinating and important part of our economic and engineering heritage which has really been alive in more or less the same kind of way since the 1770s or before."
"What I love about the canal system is that you're always seeing England from the back.  If a river is an actual thoroughfare of a town or village, the canal is its service road.  You find bits of a town or a village or a city that have not really altered around a canal because nobody goes there much anymore.  Since the mercantile aspect of canals has tailed off, you find wonderful old wharves and warehouses, cranes and landing stages, which have just stayed as a forgotten monument to Victorian technology."

"On the other hand," adds Prunella, "out in the open country it's instant countryside and deep countryside.  The flora and fauna and the birds, on the whole, are quite specialised, and there are plants you see along the canal you don't see in other places."

Both are well known for their association with the Kennet and Avon canal, and Timothy explains their special relationship with this waterway: "I went with old school friends in Bristol in the early 1950s to the first meeting of the Kennet & Avon Canal Society.  It was saving the canal at that time from a Government Bill planning to abandon the canal completely.  The meeting was held at the bottom of Widcombe Lock in Bath.  It was a very lively meeting, the Bishop of Bath and Wells spoke and Tudor Ede MP who was then, I think, Home Secretary, spoke very movingly.  There was a very strong faction of farmers who had begun to feel that the canal bed was their own and they didn't want it open at all.  They were quite vociferous, and a fight broke out in which one of the farmers was actually 'ditched' into the dry, but very muddy, Widcombe Lock."

The meeting sufficiently impressed Timothy to keep a watchful eye on its proceedings and progress.  "Then I heard that it was getting on and that things were getting done," he says.  "Of course, restoring the canal is one of the major engineering feats of this century.  It's absolutely astounding what's been done in terms of rebuilding and reclaiming back the route of the canal."  "Dredging and sealing, building locks, building bridges, reclaiming wharves and aqueducts.  But particularly, of course, the enormous staircase of locks at Caen Hill, which in anybody's terms is a major engineering feat."

When finally, the canal re-opened in 1990, Timothy and Prunella's boat was the first to travel the entire length of the Kennet and Avon, all but for a 400-yard stretch encompassing lock 43 at the summit of the Caen Hill flight.  "The four hundred yards were reserved for the Queen to open," explains Timothy.  "We were craned out and taken on the back of a low loader through the streets of Devizes and put back in the canal."  The Queen officially re-opened the Kennet and Avon canal by navigating through lock 43 on the 8th of August 1990.  Timothy emphasises the role of volunteers in canal restoration, citing his own experience of the K&A:  "It was restored almost entirely by voluntary work under the direction of skilled engineers."

But do they think commercial carrying will ever return to the canals?  They both doubt it.  "Canals are only really viable if you can take the goods by rail to a rail-head where you can load it immediately onto barges," believes Timothy.  If you've got to put it onto a lorry, you might as well drive the lorry to the destination."  "But also, the expense," adds Prunella, "two men to carry coal from Manchester to London is terribly expensive, to put it on a train is infinitely more sensible, economic, and efficient."  Nevertheless, they do believe there is a place for commercial carrying, as Timothy pointed out: "If you don't mind things happening at a slower pace and both you and your business co-respondent live on the canal, it's the obvious way to do it."

Neither would see living on their narrow boat as a permanent 'home' because of the hectic and varied nature of their work, though they have from time to time.  "When we were living on it while working in Bristol," explains Prunella, "we were rehearsing a very, very difficult play and we were iced-up.  But we were very warm, and very comfortable because we've got bottled gas central heating."  They were in fact better off than the rest of the cast, as Timothy pointed out; "They'd all been frozen up in their digs.  They used to come on board for a shower because our water was okay.  We were in a marina, which was snowed over.  There were a couple of inches of thick ice, and snow all over that.  Around us, there was this little one-inch 'moat' generated by the heat from the hull, and we were very comfortable."

They have travelled the canal system quite extensively and have in the past taken their boat by road quite a long way.  "There are a few land-locked canals we'd like to try," they say, "but if you do own your own boat, it means either craning it out or hiring someone else's boat, which doesn't feel quite right."  The Monmouth and Brecon Canal is one of Timothy's ambitions, while Prunella would like to try the Chichester Canal.

They've owned their current boat for over ten years.  "It was built for us," explains Timothy, "custom built onto a standard steel hull and our friend Barry Morse of Morse Marina in Banbury fitted it out."

And what would Timothy West and Prunella Scales have to say to people who see canals as dirty ditches and narrow boats as cold and comfortless?  "Try it," they say, "Just try it."

If midsummer’s day is kind of important to me, on account of it being my birthday, then so is the winter solstice. I’d have been six months old when I saw my first one. I was held as a baby whilst the sun came up, and again when it went down. I remember absolutely nothing, nor will my little friend Joshie here. I was asked to take him with me for my walk along the towpath. I know I wanted to be alone, but the little lad talks to me in a way that someone that has language can’t. I look at him and his big blue eyes look back. There’s all these expressions he has that let me know that he’s aware exactly how I’m feeling. Like when his mum had the baby blues a bit on the heavy side, he somehow got that I was looking after him so that she could get herself into the right headspace. I guess he managed to get the message to his mum that I wasn’t taking him away too. Right now he seems to be just looking at me as though he wants to know something. Even if I look away, he still gets my attention. I mean who’d want to look away from such a beautiful little face anyway.

What I want to tell him is that things work out, but when I try to actually say anything he just looks right through my eyes and fires the same back at me. He’s telling me that things in my life will work out too. I mean, how can he know so much when he’s only been in the world for around half a year. He has no concept of Christmas, birthday, spring or anything much else. I think he can see what’s happening to nature though. The trees are bare of leaves, there’s been snow which, with today’s milder weather, is melting and dripping on me from the branches. He can’t write anything and, according to the health visitor, he isn’t even that aware that he’s an individual human being. Well Joshie, all of that’s a load of old cobblers isn’t it. Yes, I know I’m from the north and we don’t do rhyming slang but it’s cobblers anyway. You know far more than anybody thinks you do. I’m pretty sure the lad spots what others may well miss. Like the wild animals, he can sense that the trees aren’t dying but instead are preparing for when the victory over cold sees the days lengthen. He knows when he looks that there are buds slowly getting ready to burst into leaf. What I know for sure is that what’s going on in that little head is kind of pretty awesome. He also knows when I’m busy going too deep into thinking stuff out. This time a little arm popped out of my coat and pulled my hat down over my eyes.
“Who put da lights out!” I said, using a funny voice to amuse the godson that I’m technically too young to be godmother to.
It always makes him chuckle in his own special little way when I say daft things, which then makes me laugh and forget whatever was bothering me. I told you the lad was smart didn’t I. Anybody walking past might think I was talking a load of rubbish into mid air as Joshie is tucked up all cosy and warm in a baby sling under my coat. Also I’m mostly not actually speaking in words.

This is all going between him and me as he snuggles up to me. I love moments like this, you know, just wandering along the towpath then standing on top of the bridge looking out along the canal, and also sitting on the damp lock-side bench. I could happily sit here for hours today but I know Joshie is either going to pee himself, do a poo, or start dropping rather heavy hints that he wants a feed. He knows where to look too, and if I could I would but he understands that too. I can usually work out when it’s time to head off back to the farm though so he doesn’t ever get too restless. Right now we’re just happy here as we watch whatever comes into view. I kind of think that when that social worker thought he was my son, he knew that I was annoyed with her assumption of me being some reckless teenager. I felt his little arms pulling himself closer to me and then thought, well, what if? Where else but Bank Top could I do something like that and know I’d get support and not judgement? I’d be proud to be his mum but I’m not, that’s all. He knows that, I know that, and I also know he probably needs a feed, definitely needs a nappy change and I need a fresh sweater. Thanks Joshie. I guess this one needed a wash anyway!

So we’ll head back on the track across the meadow running diagonal to the towpath as the drizzle increases in pace making the canal shimmer in the haze as we move on up the slope. In front of us is the big old farmhouse that has been home to a lot of people since what is referred to as either a hippy commune or the freak farm began a good long time before even my mum was born. Back then the rather beautifully restored canal was no more than a ditch, the house was crumbling and we had no electricity (so I’m told). Over the decades our little community has survived though. So I guess the solstice is a good excuse to party as well as to contemplate. I think Joshie and I are quite ready for a good sing song around the bonfire now. Well we will be once we’ve cleaned up and wrung the weather out of my coat, hat and scarf. Seasons greetings folks.

Meet Paddington!

If you travel the waterways or walk the canal towpaths of Britain, you may meet Paddington Bear. He can be seen sitting in the prow of his very own vessel, a 25-year-old, 60-foot narrowboat in royal blue and red colours that bears (not meant to be a pun!) his name of Paddington. He is very much admired by the children who discover him moored at Aston Marina, Staffordshire.

Paddington finds sailing on a narrowboat a very sociable and relaxing way to travel around the country – and he is never seasick! He usually takes a month’s holiday every year and also spends weekends with his partners, co-owners of the boat since 2016, and their family and friends.

A year ago, he took 17 days to sail a clockwise route via Autherley Junction, Wolverhampton, Birmingham, Worcester, Stourport on the Severn and back home, sailing by day and mooring by night. He always enjoys an evening meal in a pub if it is canalside. Paddington said that cruising through central Birmingham and mooring near Gas Street Basin close to the Symphony Hall was special.

This year he and his friends took the boat north to the Llangollen Canal, cruising along the iron clad Pontcysyllte Aqueduct and parts of Cheshire.

He met many interesting people along the way – live-aboard boaters, holiday cruisers and others busy on working boats. One of the most interesting was a working blacksmith towing an unpowered butty boat at over 71 feet 6 inches, which only just fitted into the locks.

Among these interesting people were the Waterways Chaplains, who are always ready to help boaters negotiate locks or lend a sympathetic ear to their problems and concerns, giving advice and help where they can. They also talk to folk walking the towpath or fishing in the canals. Paddington says that sometimes it is a great relief to unburden yourself by chatting to a friendly chaplain. And visiting the lovely old churches along the way is always a pleasant and peaceful experience.

As for next year – he’ll be off again and says that the waterways of Britain offer miles of natural beauty for everyone to enjoy. Perhaps he’ll sail by you along some peaceful stretch. If so, do shout, “Hello, Paddington!” as you pass. You can be sure he will raise his hat and wish you well. He is such a well brought up little bear!

River Canal Rescue reports its teams, from 1 June to 31 August this year, responded to an unprecedented number of call-outs; 50 major incidents involving submerged, partially sunken or grounded craft, and 1200 general call-outs, typically for electrical, fuel and engine issues, flat batteries, over-heating and gear box failures.

This equates to nearly half the 121 major incidents RCR attended last year, and around a third of the whole year’s 3335 general call-outs.

A high proportion of the major incidents were due to boats being trapped and submerged in locks, after getting stuck on lock cills, people missing signage, and underwater damage. There were more incidents on rivers than canals, and the river Trent at Sawley appears to be an incident hot-spot.

General call-outs were evenly spread across the UK with the top three reasons being fuel issues, fouled props and engine overheating.

RCR managing director, Stephanie Horton, comments on the major incidents: “There are numerous reasons why boats get trapped on lock cills; you may not be used to the lock and accidentally push your boat further over the cill or perhaps lose concentration for a second which can be disastrous. Not seeing signage or poor signage is an issue; on the river Trent at Sawley there’s a huge sign with chevrons telling you to keep left, but people miss it, and frequently become grounded in the wrong channel.

“There are many cases of people going the wrong way – usually when rivers are in flood and weirs and locks may be difficult to see. Then boaters sometimes don’t have enough power to change their route and end up trapped on weirs.”

Underwater damage to props, hulls, skegs and tiller cups is equally common, mainly due to the amount of debris found in rivers and canals due to fly tipping. Dumped mattresses, clothing and wiring are the main culprits, with low water levels making things worse.

With canals silting up, grounding is also becoming a problem, as are clogged-up fuel filters caused by sticky fuel and diesel bug.

Stephanie continues: “This spike in numbers certainly stretched our entire staff. Everyone at RCR is rescue-trained, but for major incidents we have six rescue engineers. As there were high demands on their time, our 19 general breakdown engineers pitched in to help, which in turn put pressure on their call-outs and return visits with parts. We were however, able to support everyone who called us, meeting our ethos to get boaters moving again as soon as possible with minimum disruption and cost, and to keep the navigation clear.”

She concludes: “With the Met Office reporting this summer was the coolest since 2015, I thought the poor weather may have put people off taking to the water, but this wasn’t the case. There seems to be more boaters enjoying our inland waterway system, and I suspect our high call-out figures are either due to the cost-of-living crisis, prompting more people to enjoy a staycation on the water, or owners spending less on boat maintenance.”

Case study

Lock 13, Tilston lock, the Shropshire Union canal, a hiring from Anglo-Welsh. Boat was caught on the lock cill, causing the stern to stay in place while the bow lowered in line with the dropping water level, sinking the vessel.

Sunday 21 July - RCR three-man team attended to find the vessel was held on the lock cill by one inch of rudder, making it unstable. As the team could not enter the boat, due to health & safety issues, the only option was to flood the lock and float it off the cill. After approval from Anglo-Welsh, the lock was flooded and the boat sunk to the bottom of the lock safely with guide ropes and winches.
Now stabilised, after emptying the lock, the team sealed entrances and pumped-out the vessel while the lock was refilled. Once refloated it was moved and recovered by Anglo Welsh.

I have spent the last few months frantically scrabbling around researching and recording the YouTube videos for Heatherfield Heritage’s contribution to the annual Heritage Open Day’s event, (shameless plea, go online and watch them so I haven’t gone grey for nothing) and the theme this year was “routes, networks & connections.”

Sticking to home territory, I explored Preston Brook wharf’s links and connections - the Wharf Wide Web - but the caveat I had to work with was to keep it mostly family-friendly. This, you can probably already guess, was a struggle for me and thus the topic of today’s scribble; I have to tell someone some of the grisly details.

The canal arrived at Preston Brook around 1770. At the same time, the village’s new owner, Thomas Brock, was beginning an extensive plan of modernisation and expansion to match. Brock and his family were all solicitors, and at least 3 of his close family were working directly for the Duke of Bridgewater so Brock knew exactly what was coming and how to capitalise on it.
The local area now had an influx of fit men with heavy machinery and it had a dirty, great, water-filled building site slashed across the countryside.

Inevitably, the first casual casualty came quickly. 26 year old Thomas Potts was heading back to his home on the outskirts of Norton near the Keckwick Brook when he, presumably, fell in the water and didn’t manage to climb out. I say presumably because the parish register only states “Kill’d in the Duke of Bridgewater’s canal.” The phraseology is curious, as the clerk is usually more specific in saying ‘drowned’. Could there be a more sinister story behind it?

A few months later, a Preston Brook man is buried and the clerk notes he drowned. Closer inspection of the registers suggests that this was a labourer who’d moved to Preston Brook with the work. Accidents were a common occurrence, and it appears that either fatal occurrences lost their fascination or the bishop put his foot down as the clerk stopped noting such things. However, it’s almost certain that the two labouring brothers interred on the same day a few months after that were killed during an accident of the tunnel construction.

The tunnel managed to go 16 years before it claimed a boater, and even sadder than the simple loss of life was the fact he remains unidentified to this day. What had probably happened was his body had been dropped off at the wharf and the boat carried on after collecting a replacement crew. Wharf men organised transport to the churchyard and when the clerk came to record the man’s name, it was realised that no one knew it and the boat was too far gone to find out, if her crew even knew it in the first place, as at that time it was very common for a man to be known only by his by-name such as “Black Jemmy” rather than the one he was baptised with.

Another boatman drowned the following year, this one named William Hurstfield. This young man was known by someone in the area, for the clerk was able to note that the deceased was 26 years old.

It wasn’t just drowning that occurred at Preston Brook. One of Thomas Brock’s most calculated constructions was that of the Red Lion Inn, completed in 1776. There was already an inn up the hill, the Royal Oak, but by all accounts that one was more of a multi-use farm, and it was, of course, up a hill.

Brock’s new inn was close to the shiny new canal, directly on the side of the A56 and was purpose built. The Royal Oak never stood a chance of competing.

Brock was Chester’s legal-beagle and so not only did he have quasi-insider knowledge of the canal plans through his family, he also knew what the local civic area were planning. He would have been well aware that there were serious efforts to get the Warrington to Chester road made into a turnpike so as to make it less wheel destroying, thereby allowing the fancy new mail coaches to pass through and hopefully stop some of the highway robbery.

It would take a further 10 years before the road was actually turnpiked, and by that point Brock was dead, and the Red Lion was actively used by the local highway, thieves and vagabonds on their way about business.

Indeed, the big stables at the Red Lion were regularly full of boat horses, and more than once also held stolen horses in their ‘sick bay’, with an apocryphal tale being that one stolen horse was discovered after it was sold to a boatman whose own horse had dropped dead, and this new one took a look (fell in the canal) on the way to Runcorn, and came out of the water a different colour.

Another of Brock’s constructions was a windmill, in the field directly behind the wharf, and there was a quiet rumour that it was used as a hide for highwaymen and/or stolen goods, with things being hidden in sacks of flour and sent off by boat. There’s no evidence to confirm or deny this, nor the tale I found that some of the barrels of “brandy” being sent along the canal bound for Liverpool also contained pickled corpses for the anatomy tables.

Anatomists were a terrifying reality back then, and one packet boat arrived at the wharf with two young men and a suspiciously heavy box. They managed to heave the box off the boat and eventually persuaded the reluctant coachman to allow them tickets to Chester. They’d only gone 8 miles down the road when a fellow passenger made a hole in the box and screamed like a banshee because there was a coffin in it. The two young men were arrested and it later transpired the occupant of the coffin was the 15 year old sister of one of the men, who’d died in Manchester and they were trying to get her home to Hawarden. They, and the coffin, were released to carry on their journey.

The packet boats were heavily used, with a calculated passenger figure of around 33,000 people in 1800. The boats, though intended to carry 80 and 120 passengers respectively, were often grossly overloaded, and this could lead to serious problems if one passenger just happened to be ill. In 1849, Margaret Nixon was sick with cholera but got on the packet boat in Manchester to go to Liverpool. The newspaper described how the “deceased complained of being very sick, vomited violently, and her bowels were relaxed”, only an hour after leaving Manchester.

A doctor travelling on board advised the helpless captain to get the boat to Runcorn, presumably because that was where there was a quasi-cholera hospital, as fast as possible. Around Preston Brook it seems she was transferred into a narrowboat and another doctor was retrieved, who treated her as best he could as the boat hastened to Runcorn.

Unfortunately, the word had clearly spread that cholera was on board and it took two hours before someone would let them bring the patient ashore. She was eventually taken off the boat but died shortly afterwards, leaving the captain of the passenger boat to be accused of “impropriety” and of hastening the death of the woman in allowing her to be removed. He also, of course, had to scrub his boat from stem to stern with carbolic soap.

The train station was regularly drenched in blood, with people getting mown down as they endeavoured to cross the lines. The newspapers tended to alternate between gory detail (“his teeth having been found on the engine on arrival at Crewe”) and coy euphemism (“His clothes in great disorder and rucked up,”) and when the Bridgewater cashier Mr Halliwell became a casualty in 1848, the Liverpool Mercury plumped to go for the middle road and describe the injuries, but politely, in deference to the high regard in which he had been held.

Where boatmen made mistakes, the papers had no such qualms. Eli Pollard was poling his boat along the wharf when his foot slipped and his head was flattened, or possibly removed entirely, between the moving boat and one moored up on the wharf, while John Wilkinson fell asleep on the sidebed as his boat was coming through the tunnel and his clothes caught fire from the range. He was still on fire by the time the train of boats came out of the tunnel and they finally managed to put him out, by which time there was no saving him.

The newspapers all agreed that it was Shocking, Horrible and great for selling copy.

Animal cruelty was common and therefore less interesting as far as the newspapers were concerned, but some cases were recorded.

The Speed brothers took a boat from Preston Brook to Manchester and beat their horse so hard it died a few hours after arriving. The magistrate fined them the equivalent of 10 days wages, plus costs, and made a point of telling the Bridgewater Trustees they needed to keep a better watch on the conduct of their employees.

A couple of decades later, a long suffering horse finally snapped and actively attacked its owner as they made their way to the tunnel. The boatman suffered broken ribs, lacerations and the loss of 3 fingers, while the horse was allegedly put down for being dangerous.

It wasn’t all death and destruction though. Both the Red Lion and the light-fingered boaters were distributing liberal amounts of alcohol to the population with predictable consequences, and the village constable was regularly called out to attend for drunk and disorderly people. A set of Irish labourers, well lubricated, were walking back up the hill late one night and started a bout of fisticuffs for unknown reasons. One participant rolled down the hill and into the wharf while another carried on the argument with a tree.

A couple of “women of loose character” found themselves being sentenced to hard labour for “disorderly conduct”, and another was found passed-out in a hedge near Daresbury with her 3 year old grandson crying nearby.

Some drunkenness was less distressing; a boatman was charged for refusing to stop singing a dirty song, and even when he was being arrested continued singing because he wanted to get “to the good bit”. History doesn’t relate what the song was, but we can presume it was fairly filthy or he was an especially bad singer, given the noise and music that surrounded the canals at the best of times!

Fortified with lunch, we set off down the flight, swapping Joshie minders as we went. The locks looked like they’d been there for ever, built of big stone blocks that would probably look as perfect as the day they were made if the green slime was cleaned off. I know they were originally built as a means of getting cargo moved cheaply and weren’t supposed to be the monuments that they are, but we really should treat them with respect for the folk that built them and the boaters that used them. It was annoying when we crossed with a hired boat with a mixed “crew” who all seemed pretty drunk. We said to be careful as we saw them drift towards the top gate which, on this flight, has a paddle in the gate rather than two ground paddles. I did wonder why they built the culverts for the ground paddles but when you see the water rushing out of the gate onto a boat that’s too close, you realise why canal hardware needs to be treated with respect. I guess that’s why being a proper boater required skill. Suggesting a quickie to Ella, Casey, me or all three of us is definitely not part of that skill set, so I’m afraid we grassed them up to the hirers. The worst part for us was that the drunks had managed to drain a pound further down, meaning we had to phone the trust. We didn’t want to try fixing it ourselves and causing more damage. Frances, who answered, was happy to listen and, when Casey gave the name of the boat, she recognised it.
“Doing another award this year?” she asked.
That prompted the story of the three of us heading to the Bank Top gathering along with my status as a sort of political exile.

An hour later the repair team arrived during which time we had a visit from a police officer who asked us about the incident, then headed off to question the crew of the hire boat.
“Right mess they’ve made,” Andy from the repair team, said. “They’ve gone and sunk their boat two locks up and all. Lucky they didn’t drown themselves.”
“It’d sober them up I a bit guess,” Ella laughed.
“We’ll get you down, but we’ll have to temporarily close the flight. We’ll have to use the overspills and just carefully raise the levels over a few hours. If we’re not done by the end of the day we’ll see you down the rest of the locks tomorrow,” Andy smiled.
“Tayo,” Joshie smiled, having sensed that the guys were helping us.
“He’s a cracker of a lad that one,” Andy replied.
Cue another telling of the story, and a few hours waiting for the pound to gradually fill up. Whilst this was all going on, we brewed several coffees for the team, and made them sandwiches. With them being mixed we felt safe inviting everyone aboard. The galley was a little snug with eight plus a toddler but we had a pleasant time chatting to them about waterways and our interest in them. I told them about Uncle Jim and Auntie Amanda’s little boat “Mayfly” and how she’d been rescued by Jim, also Auntie Vera’s narrowboat and, guess what. Frances knew of them.
“So you’re from a legendary group of canal people,” she smiled.

It took the rest of the day for the pound to fill, and we stopped for the night where we were. Pretty much exactly on time, two of the team turned up and helped us through the rest of the locks for what would have been our day's run. They asked us if we needed help through the tunnel but we’d read that it was quite wide, if a bit on the low side, so they headed off again. It’s always good to have a chat with other people, but Ella, Casey and I liked sharing our time with little Joshie too, who had amused the team with being quite vociferous in his charming little way. We were mulling over the idea of canal festivals when we came to the rather odd looking tunnel. In the distance it looked like a bridge, but as you got closer it was definitely a tunnel, wide and with a low roof. In contrast, the next one was going to be pretty narrow. Before we got there we were passing the yard that had hired the boat out when someone on the towpath called and waved for us to stop off. Not being in much of a hurry, we followed her directions to one of the jetties, and were ushered into the office.
“I want to say how sorry we are for the incident yesterday,” the woman (who had hailed us) said. “We will be far more careful vetting the people we hire to in future.”
“We got a bit or rudeness from them, that's all” I said. “You and the repair team got the worst of it.”

We’d seen the bedraggled boat sat on blocks in the yard and it was in a really sorry state.
“Needs a complete refit,” the manager frowned. “We won’t get nearly enough back from the insurance to cover it. Still that’s our problem. I hope you won’t think we’re trying to buy you off, but we’ve got a few bits and pieces as a gift from us. And something for your lovely little boy too. Absolutely no strings attached.”
“Thanks,”Casey smiled. “We weren’t going after you for anything. Not your fault the people were so tanked up when they got to us.”
What the hirers did for us was to top up our diesel tank, emptied the toilet cassette (horrible task), filled our water and gave us a hamper of rather nice treats. For Joshie they had bought a soft toy of a narrowboat made of a good quality cotton. He loved it.
“Tayo,” he smiled, his eyes saying far more than the words could.

Autumn has well and truly arrived, bringing us the celebration of the harvest and all the wonderful produce that it provides.

Those earthy smells, magical twilight hours and beautiful colours, remind us that boating keeps us very much in tune with the seasons and the ever changing picture of our surroundings.

Enjoying Autumn walks with my dog Rosie, I’m often on the lookout for useful bits and bobs, be it kindling, pine cones and foliage, or berries and fruits, they all have their good uses. It’s mushroom season too!

The hedgerow berries have also been put to good use, some of my recipes can be found in previous Autumn articles.

Now it’s time for apples, I’m sure we’ve all had our first crumble of the year, there is nothing finer than a comforting homemade crumble with custard! I’ve got a lovely cake recipe using apple with cheese along with a few other ideas.

A tip for those apples as you prepare them to avoid discolouration, immerse in a bowl of cold water with a good tablespoon or more of lemon juice.

I’ve also made pear jam again this year, it’s a simple method of half quantity sugar to fruit, ½ tsp mixed spice, simmered slowly for at least 90 minutes until smooth and boiled until setting point reached, skim off foam and spoon into sterilised jars.

It has to be the ultimate warm and hearty feeling of satisfaction, to watch the fire and enjoy good food after a few hours out in the fresh air.

Here are some of my favourite Autumn recipes, along with some one pot dishes, my trusty base curry recipe and some ideas for using pumpkins. Slow is the secret for many curries, so if you’ve got a Cobb cooker don’t put it away yet, it’s the perfect way to get your curries going and may just attract new friends!

SAUTÉED MUSHROOMS WITH SWEET APPLE AND WALNUT ON SOURDOUGH

Use chestnut mushrooms if you can for a good nutty taste and Cox’s sweet apples.

For the dressing: 4 tbsp crème fraiche, 2 tbsp white or red wine vinegar, 1 tsp Dijon mustard, pinch salt and pepper, combine the ingredients together.

Add a few freshly chopped chives or parsley (if you have them) before serving.

Prepare 2 apples by quartering, peeling and slicing.

Slice and sauté 8 to 12 mushrooms in a dash of oil, season and add the sliced apples and a knob of butter just to warm the apples through.

Thickly slice the bread into 4 pieces and lightly toast or pan fry.

Top with the mushrooms and apples, a few walnut pieces and the dressing to serve.

WHOLEMEAL SAUSAGE AND APRICOT ROLL

This recipe uses part wholemeal flour and reduced fat sunflower spread for a healthier option.

For the pastry
225g flour, wholemeal or half and half with plain
140g reduced fat sunflower spread
1 tsp poppy seeds
Rub the flour and the spread together to resemble fine breadcrumbs and then stir in 2 tbsp cold water and a pinch of salt, bring together to form a dough and wrap tightly and chill for 20 minutes.

For the sausage-meat filling
450g lean minced pork (or use herbed sausages, squeeze the meat out of the casings)
1clove garlic, very finely chopped
1 large cooking apple cut into small pieces or grated
75g dried apricots, finely chopped
½ tsp dried (or fresh) herbs such as sage or mixed, if using plain sausagemeat
½ tsp each salt and pepper.

Preheat the oven to 220/gas 7.
Roll out the pasty on a floured surface to form a rectangle (about 25 x 30cm) to fit onto a greased/lined baking sheet. Trim to shape if necessary.
Combine all the filling ingredients and squeeze together to form an oblong shape to sit over the pastry.
Brush the edges with cold water and fold over, press firmly to seal.
Score the top to make a lattice, then lightly brush with water and sprinkle the poppy seeds over.
Bake for 25-30 minutes until the pastry is golden.
Serve warm or cold as a ploughman’s lunch with pickles, tomatoes and a chunk of cheese.

I use lots of fresh lemons and limes in my recipes, and sometimes get caught out when I haven’t any fresh ones in. It’s only recently that I’ve discovered supermarket convenience citrus juices, like those we used to buy for pancake day, they work out much cheaper, although they do have preservatives added, but nonetheless are very useful to keep in.

PINK PICKLED ONIONS A lovely accompaniment to the sausage and apricot roll.

1 red onion, finely sliced
2 limes, juiced, or 2-3 tbsp shop bought lime juice
pinch salt
Combine the onion with the salt and lime juice, leave to pickle in the fridge overnight. The acidity will draw the colour and turn everything into a lovely pink colour.

HARVEST PORK CASSEROLE This is an easy one pot satisfying meal, makes plenty to keep in the fridge for a few days or freeze for another day.

4 Pork shoulder steaks (or boneless leg approx. 600g)
1 celery stick,
1 carrot, onion and leek, all roughly chopped
1-3 potatoes, depending on size, cut into small pieces
1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed
1 tbsp fennel seeds, ground in pestle and mortar or spice grinder
1 tbsp each ground cumin and coriander
2 tbsp plain flour
300 ml chicken or vegetable stock
300 ml cider or apple juice
2 small sweet apples salt and pepper to season

Batch fry the pork in a little oil in the casserole pot and set aside. Then add the onion and garlic to the pot to gently fry for a couple of minutes, add the spices and stir in the flour. Turn the heat right down, add the stock and cider, then add the pork back to the pot, followed by all the vegetables, apple and seasoning. Nestle the meat down under the liquid, cover and cook low and slow in a moderate oven or over the stove for about an hour. Check the meat for tenderness, depending on the cut, continue to cook for another half hour or so.

Serve with greens such as cabbage or kale.

CRUMBLY APPLE AND WENSLEYDALE CAKE

This is an easy bake, delicious when served warm, it’s moist, sweet and tangy with the perfect combination of ingredients.

575g apples
175g self-raising flour tsp baking powder
75g light brown sugar
50g each raisins and sultanas
50g Brazil nuts or walnuts roughly chopped
2 eggs
90ml sunflower oil
225g Wensleydale cheese
Sprinkling icing sugar to finish

Grease and base line a 9 inch loose bottomed tin or flan dish.
Peel, core and thinly slice the apples.
Sift the flour and baking powder into the bowl. Stir in the sugar, raisins, sultanas, nuts and apples. Mix well to combine.
Beat the eggs with the oil and add to the dry ingredients, thoroughly combine.
Turn half the mixture into the prepared tin, crumble the cheese over the top, then spoon the rest of the mixture over and spread to the edges of the tin.
Bake at 180/gas 4 for about 50 minutes, checking and turning after 25 mins, until just firm in the centre. Allow to cool slightly before turning out. Enjoy warm, sprinkled with icing sugar.

LEEK AND CHEESE BREAD AND BUTTER PUDDING
A savoury take on a good old fashioned recipe!

6 – 8 slices wholemeal sliced bread
1 tbsp each of butter and Dijon mustard
1or 2 (depending on size) leeks, trimmed and finely sliced
50g jarred sun dried tomatoes (or use fried bacon pieces for a non-veggie version) 250ml milk
3 eggs
85g grated cheddar cheese

Trim the crusts off the bread (save for a savoury crumble or stuffed veg topping)
Melt the butter and stir in the mustard, spread over the bread slices and make into sandwiches.
Cut in half and arrange tightly together in the base of a buttered ovenproof dish.
Gently sauteé the leeks in a little oil or butter and arrange over the bread with the chopped tomatoes or bacon.
Whisk the milk with the eggs and pour over the dish, allow to soak for 30 minutes.
Heat the oven to 190/gas5.
Sprinkle the grated cheese on top and bake for 25-30 minutes until golden and risen.

Not to waste those crusts, they are the perfect topping for a pumpkin tray bake, stuffed vegetables, or a cauliflower and broccoli gratin. Whatever your base of vegetables, just add a creamy cheese sauce and top with those breadcrumbs and a few broken pieces of walnut and extra cheese! Bake in the oven or finish under the grill for an extra crispy top.

PUMPKINS

Pumpkins are in season from now until November and have lots of uses other than the messy job of carving out for lanterns, best bought after Halloween when they are a bargain! Ideas run from chutney to tagines, soup, curries, casseroles, pancakes, risottos, sweet pastry pies, the list goes on.

Nothing beats a good warming, thick and wholesome soup. Here’s a version using orange zest for an extra twist.

PUMPKIN AND ORANGE SOUP A quicker method by boiling the pumpkin instead of roasting in the oven.

1 medium pumpkin, peeled, de-seeded and chopped into small pieces
1 tsp finely grated orange zest
juice from 1 small orange
1 onion and 1 carrot finely chopped
1 tsp caster sugar
1 inch ginger finely chopped
1½ pint vegetable stock
salt and pepper to taste
2 tbsp crème fraiche, yoghurt or cream (optional) to finish

Gently fry the onion in a dash of oil until it starts to soften, add the carrot, pumpkin, ginger, stock and orange. Simmer with the lid on for about 20 minutes.
Allow to cool slightly, then blitz to a smooth consistency.
Return to the pan and check for seasoning adding salt and pepper to taste.
Stir in crème fraiche if using.
For an extra twist to finish, sprinkle with freshly chopped chilli or dried flakes and a few roasted pumkin seeds.

PUMPKIN RISOTTO WITH HAZELNUT BUTTER

Hazelnut butter (can be made ahead and kept in the fridge)

25g skinned hazelnuts, gently toasted for a few minutes until golden brown. If you can’t get skinned, dry toast skin on nuts in a pan and then rub together between your fingertips to remove the skins, not to worry if they don’t all come off.
60g butter
1 tbsp parsley (finely chopped fresh or use dried)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Finely chop the hazelnuts when cool and combine with the softened butter, parsley and seasoning.
Spoon onto a piece of baking paper or cling film and roll up into a tight sausage shaped roll, keep in fridge until needed.

For the risotto

450g pumpkin, peeled, de-seeded and diced
25g butter 85g onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
110g Arborio risotto rice
330ml hot vegetable stock
Finely grated zest of ½ orange
25g freshly grated parmesan
Salt and pepper to taste

Melt the butter in a pan and gently fry the onion until soft but not brown.
Add the diced pumpkin and simmer for 5 to 10, until just beginning to soften, without overcooking.
Add the garlic and rice and stir round the pan to combine the ingredients.
Now add the stock one ladle at a time, ensuring each addition is absorbed before adding the next, this takes about 20 minutes.

The risotto is ready when the rice is creamy but still has a bite, depending on how accurate your quantities are, you may need to use more or less stock.
Stir in the orange zest, parmesan and seasoning to taste, top with slices of the hazelnut butter to serve.

STICKY GINGERBREAD

150g preserved stem ginger in syrup, plus 3tbsp syrup from the jar
1 large cooking apple (about 225g)
125g black treacle
125g golden syrup
175g dark muscovado sugar
175g unsalted butter
225g plain white flour
125g wholemeal flour
1tsp ground mixed spice
1 ½ tsp bicarbonate of soda
2 eggs

Grease and line a 7 inch square cake tin, use 2 small loaf tins if you don’t have one. Peel core and quarter the apple, then stand in a bowl of cold water with a squeeze of lemon juice to prevent discolouration.
Put the treacle, syrup and sugar in a pan and add the butter, gently melt and allow to cool to slightly.
Sift the flours, mixed spice and bicarbonate of soda into a bowl. Grate ¾ of the apple into the bowl and toss into the flour mixture.
Add the melted syrup mixture, eggs and ¾ of the ginger pieces, beat well to combine. Turn the mixture into the prepared tin, spreading into the corners.
Using a potato peeler to thinly slice the remaining apple, scatter the slices and the remaining ginger over the top of the gingerbread and press down lightly into the mixture using a the back of a spoon.
Bake at bout 160 to 170/gas 3 for about 1 hour until just firm and slightly springy to touch.
Leave to cool in the tin, then turn out onto a wire rack and drizzle the ginger syrup over the sponge.

Gingerbread will keep for a week in an airtight container and is best stored for a few days before eating to allow the flavours to develop.

My intentions for every article are to share some curry recipes and as usual I overrun the space allocation! So here’s just a quick taster of my basic curry sauce below. One useful tip is to have a ginger and garlic paste available, I make my own from simply peeling and equal quantities of fresh ginger and garlic, blitzed in a blender or pestle and mortar with just enough water to make a smooth paste. Store in an air-tight container in the fridge or freeze as individual ice cube sizes. It’s such a handy thing to have at the ready for curries and stir fries etc. Chilli paste can be made in a similar way.

Tandoori chicken or vegetables are a favourite with this sauce, simply marinate whatever you’re using, be it chicken or vegetables, with tandoori masala spices, a squeeze of lemon juice and natural yoghurt. Fry in a little oil and add the base sauce.

BASE CURRY SAUCE

As this is a slow process, when the weather permits, I will use the Cobb cooker for this one and other curries, the added bonus is that the boat doesn’t smell of curry for days!

4 or 5 onions, depending on size, roughly chopped
100ml rapeseed oil, add a little more to the pan if needed
1carrot (about 60g) roughly chopped
½ each of red and green pepper, roughly chopped
1 tin tomatoes, or 3tbsp tomato pureé with water
3 tbsp ginger and garlic paste (see above)
1tbsp each of garam masala, ground cumin, ground coriander, paprika
½ tbsp ground fenugreek (optional, don’t worry if you don’t have it)
2 tsp ground turmeric

Place the prepared onion in a large pan, add the salt and oil. Stir well and add the remaining vegetables, the ginger and garlic paste and enough water just to cover. Simmer very gently for about 45 minutes, until the vegetables are soft and the liquid reduced. Add the remaining ingredients and a little more water if required, give a good stir, cover and continue to simmer for about 30 minutes. Skim off any surplus oil from the top if you like, save for frying when making your choice of curry. Allow to cool slightly and blend to a smooth consistency, if too thick add a little water or stock. Can be used immediately, stored in the fridge for a few days or frozen.

I hope you enjoy trying some of these recipes out, have a wonderful Autumn season and we’ll catch up again in December. In the meantime, do look back on previous articles for other recipes, or follow me on my Facebook page Canal Cuisine. You can either contact me through my page or by email.

We've spent a significant part of this year on the Leeds-Liverpool Canal; we went up the Wigan Flight in February and came down in July.

We cruised up to Stanley Ferry on the Aire Navigation, turned around and came back the same way.

During our time on this canal,  we noticed a significant deterioration in lots of ways. Obviously, the seasons changed during our time there and moorings we'd enjoyed heading towards Leeds were totally overgrown as we headed back towards Wigan making it impossible to get into the bank.

The Bingley Five Rise locks were leaking so much more on our return journey and it was entirely due to the CRT Volunteers that we were able to manage the flight safely and without incident.

Most of the locks along the canal take some managing as paddles are often broken and water levels are difficult to manage.

When we came down the Wigan Flight in July, there had been an issue between CRT and the regular volunteers on the flight, so there was no one to highlight the problems to look out for.

We did have a very frightening situation where the button fender on the bow got caught on a gate and we very nearly sunk...not an experience we ever want to repeat.

The Leeds-Liverpool is such a lovely canal with so much to recommend it and so many great places to visit, but if it isn't better maintained in the future, I feel it'll become a 'ghost' canal.

We've spoken to many people who've said 'never again' when talking about Wigan and it seems such a shame. We know the financial difficulties CRT are facing, but it's clear the north is falling behind in terms of maintenance.

What happened to levelling up?

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.

I thought you were getting frisky
When you rolled on me in the night
But the mattress was on a slant
When our mooring ropes went tight

We moonwalked down the boat
Then tried our best to dress
It's hard to put a leg in a pant
Whilst you're leaning to the left

Breakfast was quite a challenge
Cooking on a tilted vessel
What with our sausages rolling
And a sliding boiling kettle

The shower drain doesn't
Nor does the kitchen sink
We've gone all Brahms and Liszt
But we haven't had a drink

Our cupboard doors are wide open
With all our wares on show
We're sitting on the canal bed
No longer in the flow

We'll have to dance for rain
For we really are quite stuck
It's most discombobulating
All this wallowing in the muck

So when you leave a lock
Shut your gates and paddles tight
And ladies won't get squashed
By their husbands in the night