Hello dear readers and welcome to a nautical episode of my Blog. Indeed, this adventure had been a trip planned for years only to have been thwarted by the dreaded “C” word (The Global Pandemic). Well, now we are semi-retired and back in the UK, Mrs. C and I have a new “C” word, Carpe Diem!
So, Mrs.C booked us on a 3.5 day epic canal adventure with the lovely people at The Wyvern Shipping Company, on the Grand Union Canal between Leighton Buzzard and Cosgrove.
Where is Leighton Buzzard (or as the locals refer to it Leighton-Be-Buggered) I hear your cry. To be fair I had to dig out the atlas myself (for those readers under the age of 30 that’s a book with maps in; call it an analogue sat-nav) and found it to be located somewhere in the vicinity of those two great British cultural icons of Milton Keynes and Luton. Well that’s all I needed to know so I packed the Billingham with the Leica SL2 with the 24-90 Vario Elmarit and the 50mm Noctilux F0.95 as well as my little Fuji XF10.
Now in an adventure like this, regular readers will know that Mrs. C takes over the admin and planning role whilst I ensure that the no less important but more esoteric matters are fully considered. In this case I ensured that I had appropriate head wear and that I had cultivated a look that was a panaché and would scream “salty sea dog meets semi-retired merchant banker”! Of course, that is for you to judge dear reader.
Uncle Phil was assigned the role as Captain on account that he has a boat and actually has some clue as to what he is doing. The Girls would take care of the handling and operation of all Locks as well as preparation of in-trip sustenance (Mrs. C had baked her famous lime drizzle cake and Aunty Jackie had prepared her mega flapjacks). For me they had kindly reserved the role of First Mate. Naturally I assumed this was a more supervisory role that would allow me to monitor operations from the poop deck of our vessel, offering advice and guidance whilst recording our adventures in glorious monochrome. How wrong that assumption turned out to be!
So we fired up the Polo, dialed Leighton Buzzard in to Trixie (that’s the lady in my car’s sat-nav) and headed up the M3 to Leighton Buzzard.
Mrs. C had set me some homework to learn a few knots that might prove useful in the operation of our vessel. I attach below said homework for those Topologists who wish to delve deeper in to this dark art. For me, I just settled on the old nautical favourite of left over right, right over left and cross your fingers.
We finally arrived at the Wyvern Shipping Co, situated in Linslade, Leighton Buzzard and a 5 minute drive from the local Tescos where we collected our vittles.
What a beautiful scene with our trusty vessel, The Countess, moored and gleaming in the sun, fully prepped and ready for us to assume command. Mrs. C was on top of the admin and the lovely people at Wyvern made the handover a breeze.
Once we loaded everything on to the Countess we were joined by Shaun, who provided a full tour of the boat and its facilities, gave a mechanical briefing, as well as explaining some basic need to know items about canal etiquette and boat handling. I saw him looking at my hat and it was clear that he had acknowledged my nautical origins.
Shaun would be accompanying us for the first mile of so, to provide on the go instruction and to take us through the first lock, before alighting just before the Globe pub, at which point we would be left to our own devices.
The Countess.
Always time for an arty shot.
OMG - we can’t even see the pointy end!
And Away - Giving the Countess the “Full Noctilux”.
Now all went very smoothly during Shaun’s short tenure as part of our crew. The only worry was what started as a sunny afternoon with a gentle breeze had now turned to darkened skies, intermittent rain and a 35 mph cross-wind!
As Shaun alighted, just before the Globe pub, he waved goodbye and clearly had a religious bent as he made the sign of the cross. What could possibly go wrong?
From that point onwards the weather went from bad to worse. The skies darkened, the rain started (there is no cover on the back of a canal boat) and the wind was blowing in gusts of up to 35 mph.
Most sane canal goers had moored up for the afternoon and called it a day. Not the Chivers boys. “When Needs Must the Devil Drives” and we were determined to push-on through to our planned first night’s mooring at Fenny Stratford.
Just when we thought we were getting the hang of things we approached a very severe hairpin bend with a broad beam canal boat coming in the opposite direction. The other skipper was clearly of questionable parentage and even though he could see we were novices clearly wasn’t going to give way. The fickle finger of fate seemed to be pointing directly at us. At that moment Uncle Phil looked me in the eyes and that telepathy that only brothers have kicked in. In that instant we both new that there was only one thing to do…..Engage the Warp Drive!
Phil opened up the engine and with some pretty deft steering, the holding of breath and with squinty eyes we narrowly avoided the oncoming vessel. No time to be complacent because up ahead the bank of the canal was approaching at a rate of knotts (well about 4 mph actually). Again Wharp Drive engaged but this time in reverse. Suffice to say we narrowly avoided disaster and soon had The Countess back on the straight and narrow.
Things were strangely quiet on the bridge of the Countess for about 5 minutes as we both regained our composure. As we continued onwards the rain continued to sting our faces and the wind grew ever stronger.
Our respite was only a short one for up ahead loomed our next challenge. The Three Locks. The Three Locks are a series of three locks located next to a pub called The Three Locks. You can see where I am going with this.
We were passing through these locks with another boat, also from Wyvern. We successfully navigated the first lock but as we were waiting our turn in the waiting pool, a strong gust of wind caught our bow and pushed us sideways. Now the pool was about 40 feet wide and our boat had a length of 65 feet so we were in danger of being wedged.
I was immediately dispatched to the pointy end which required a 65 foot dash through two bedrooms, the kitchen and the lounge before I was able to retrieve the “Pole of Panic” and push us away from the concrete wall, all whilst trying not to fall in. Meantime, Uncle Phil was undertaking a similar activity at the rear of the boat whilst also operating the rudder and throttle. This is what you call real teamwork and finally we managed to regain control and we passed through the remaining two locks without incident.
Fortunately for us, the bad weather had ensured that there were no alcohol enthused locals outside of the pub, who would have no doubt proffered their “encouragement” as we fought to save our vessel and our pride. With both intact we pressed on although we knew that we had definitely dodged a bullet.
It goes without saying that I did not have one opportunity to capture any of the aforesaid events. It was literally all hands on deck. As we cruised to our planned mooring point at Fenny Stratford both Uncle Phil and I were completely knackered. This was supposed to be a relaxing canal boat holiday but my back was aching, my knees were throbbing and we were already at stress level ten! The remainder of the afternoon passed without controversy or incident and we managed to find a suitable mooring at Fenny Stratford.
This seems to be a sensible moment to mention Mooring:
Ideally steer towards the bank at nothing more than 0 mph to avoid sinking.
Put the fenders over the side of the boat that will be next to the bank whilst not falling in to the canal. NOTE: Canals are filthy. If you fall in there is a danger of contracting Weils disease. Google it; You do not want to contract Weils disease.
One of the crew steps off the pointy end on to the bank with a rope attached to the boat. If you do not attach the rope to the boat you are buggered ( nautical terminology referring to placing oneself in an unforeseen unfortunate position).
Our skipper then points the rudder to the right and gives it some throttle and the back of the boat comes in to the bank.
At this point The First Mate, yours truly, steps off the stern of the boat with a rope in hand, said rope being attached to the centre of the boat. It is my job to hold all 20 tons steady whist the skipper drives a mooring pin in to the ground, both fore and aft, before attaching the mooring ropes. Then for good measure, we put a third mooring pin in to the ground at the centre of the boat where I was standing and attach the centre rope.
We decided that my right over left, left over right and cross fingers didn’t actually cut it. So we used the old yachting knot of 0800 or Locking Hitch / Cleat Hitch. Basically wrap the line once around the base of the cleat and bring it over the top. Then wrap the line around the opposite side of the cleat and bring it over the top of the cleat again. Wrap the line under the first arm again forming a figure eight pattern over and around the cleat. Then form an underhand loop and slip it over the first arm you started with. Then pull the free end of the rope to firmly secure the cleat hitch. Finally, always tie the knots on the cleat on the boat and not on the mooring pins. This will secure the boat but allows for easy release. Clear as mud. Then perform such operation in fading light, torrential rain and a 35 mph gale. You get the picture!
You are now successfully moored and can go back on board and crash out on your bed in order to overcome your nervous breakdown.
Our skipper, windswept, soaking wet and shell-shocked after our first afternoon’s adventure.
A well earned rest.
That evening we walked in to Fenny Stratford and after a few beers and a delicious Thai curry we relaxed and were able to have a giggle about the days adventures, or should I say mis-adventures. The main thing was that we had overcome adversity and worked as a team. The Chivers Boys can deal with anything.
I don’t remember my head hitting the pillow and I slept like a baby and snored like a Lion according to the rest of the crew. Harsh but true :-)
However, everything starts early on the canal and by 6.30 a.m. I was wide awake and captured the following image of tranquility and calm (to my relief) through the rear door of the boat.
Morning view from our bedroom.
This was more like it.
Whilst the girls were knocking up a hearty breakfast of steaming coffee and bacon rolls, we performed the necessary daily engine checks and left the engine on tick-over so as to keep the batteries charged whilst we used the appliances such as toaster and microwave. On this particular type of boat you can only use two appliances at any one time.
The skipper working through engine checks.
The First Mate ensuring everything is ship-shape.
Like coiled springs our crew prepares for the day-ahead.
As we slipped our mooring we then gently cruised in to the centre of the canal with a view to reaching The Black Horse Pub for lunch and then mooring for the evening just before the Cosgrove Aquaduct…hold that thought.
Finally we were in control which enabled me to take in the beauty of our surroundings and also grab a few images. I started with some of the wildlife.
Serene and beautiful but with a beak like a chainsaw.
Canada Geese.
Posing for the camera - A Heron looking for its lunch.
Canal folk are in interesting bunch. Most are just like you and me except that they have decided to step off life’s treadmill and seek a more tranquil existence on the canal. I am a believer that all that glitters is certainly not gold and we met a number who had definitely gone off the radar for one reason or another. However, I found most genuinely hospitable, eager to lend a hand and often keen to stop and have a chat. Indeed, there were many living a solitary life although perhaps they may have lived a similarly solitary life on land. Loneliness can be a dreadful thing and perhaps a friendly chat with a stranger is often enough to keep up one’s motivation.
You could also see many vessels projected the nature and state of mind of their owners:
The perfectionsit.
The Artist.
The Botanist.
The Horticulturalist.
The Priest.
The Wine Lover.
The Fixerupper.
One thing is for sure, when you are chugging along at a snails pace I found it all a very zen-like experience and it was very easy to let your mind wander and lose concentration. That is when accidents happen and there was plenty of evidence of this along the way. So for all canal newbies, be alert at all times.
It only takes a moment.
Not much leeway when passing under bridges.
This is when concentration is really required.
By this time the girls were operating the locks with consummate ease. Generally they are straightforward and come either singularly or in series. Some have added complications like the one below at Fenny Stratford which had a swing bridge in the middle of the lock, which acted as a pedestrian bridge. This had to be unlocked and manually swung to one side before the lock could be operated and we could pass through. Remember to put the bridge in place afterwards. It is a methodical process but there are often locals or volunteers on hand to help you out if you have a problem.
Shaun from Wyvern had helpfully explained the operations of the locks but one thing is for sure, you will know when the lock gate is ready to open as the water levels and pressure will equalize and it will move quite easily. Until that moment, there is no way you can open the lock gate.
Note: When operating the locks take your time, take care not to fall in and do not drop the winding handle in to the lock.
I managed to grab the girls operating the swing bridge using my little Fuji XF10 whist stood on the towpath holding the boat steady with the centre rope.
The girls operating the in-lock swingbridge at Fenny Stratford Lock.
I found the most comfortable and safest position to capture imagery was in the bow of the boat. I regretted forgetting my polarizing filter and the light could sometimes prove to be challenging. However, there are many opportunities to grab interesting reflections and also catalogue the changing environments as we passed through country side, through towns and past industrial locations.
We had two main challenges. The first was crossing the two aquaducts, at Bradwell Mill and Cosgrove and the second was to turn our vessel around at the Cosgrove Winding Point … hold that thought.
The narrow approach to the Bradwell Aquaduct.
Having passed through the Bradwell Aquaduct without incident we found a suitable mooring point and settled in for the evening. As it happens luck was on our side as just as we finished mooring and battening down the hatches we had thunder & lightening, followed by very large hailstones and then pouring rain.
We had a lovely dinner on-board in the lounge of the boat, played board games and generally chilled out. This was the canal boating I had been promised and a welcome detox from everyday life.
The next morning were were up early and ready to meet the morning’s challenges. The first was to cross over the Cosgrove Aquaduct. You can see below that it is narrow and there is only room for one vessel. Fortunately the canal is quiet in April and so there were no queues and we slipped across without delay.
You will note that on one side there are railing and on the other nothing but a 100 foot drop. However, from the middle of the aquaduct the view was stunning.
The Cosgrove Aquaduct - Note the sheer drop on the right.
What a view - England glorious England.
We then entered the Cosgrove winding point, a 70 foot wide pool that was situated in front of Cosgrove Lock. Again, we were the only vessel there and this could have proved much trickier in the middle of summer.
By now our crew was operating like a well-oiled machine. The girls were on look-out on either side of the boat, I was positioned at the pointy end, ready to spring in to action with The Pole of Panic and Uncle Phil operated the rudder and throttles with the dexterity of a concert pianist.
In no time we had made the turn without any incident and were back on our way across the Cosgrove Aquaduct.
Laser like focus.
The First Mate positioned at the pointy end.
Whoop whoop we had made it - Well done team!
Our elation lasted but a minute as up ahead there seemed to be something moored on the Bradwell Aquaduct. as we moved closer we found that someone had decided to moor on the acquaduct even though there was ample room before and after the aquaduct. We passed the boat with literally inches to spare as the vessel owner came around the corner grinning saying that he just had to walk his dog! Don’t even get me started on that one!
Is that something moored on the viaduct!
Some people are extremely inconsiderate.
Out with the analogue sat-nav.
If all else fails follow the sign post.
We had made such good time that we were able to take a very leisurely cruise on our final full day. In fact 800 rpm or slightly less than 2 mph is the way to go.
We had planned to go through The Three Locks and moor-up by the Globe Pub for the night, before passing through Leighton Lock and deliver the vessel back to Wyvern by 9.00 a.m. the next morning.
It was time for elevenses so we pulled over, moored up and soaked up the sun and scenery over a cup of tea and a slice of cake. We were all in our happy places.
Absolute tranquility.
Sharing a cuppa and a slice of cake,
The old salty sea dog.
Our skipper being given the full Noctilux.
You had to be there to appreciate how beautiful and relaxing it was.
Now that we were in complete control I thought that I would be able to record us passing through The three Locks on our return journey.
Fortunately this time the weather was calm and although the girls were in full control of operating the locks there were volunteers present from the Canal Trust to help smooth our way through.
Lining up for the First Lock.
Passing through the Lock Gates.
Built in 1879 and still working fine.
View from Inside the lock.
The waters rise and so do we as the locals watch with a degree of respect at our competence.
Volunteer Adrian.
Volunteer James asking where I had bought my hat - clear a man of style and taste.
The view down through The Three Locks.
We moored up Just after the Globe Pub and settle in for a coffee and a flapjack. At that point a large Heron was seen walking along the towpath and stopped directly in front of our boat to undertake a spot of fishing. This is my favorite image of the trip. I particularly liked the Pigeon on the branch above seemingly waiting to see if there might be any leftovers should the Heron be successful.
The Fisherman
The First Man - I had finally earned the right to wear my hat.
The next morning we cruised through Leighton Lock and on to Wyvern to hand back our trusty vessel.
Shaun was waiting for us on the dock and as we gently slipped in to our mooring berth, without the slightest hitch, he gave us a smile and simple nod, which said it all. We were now canal people.
What a wonderful 3.5 days on this beautiful stretch of canal. We always have such a great time with Uncle Phil and Aunty Jackie. We all like the same things and everyone is prepared to muck-in and roll-up their sleeves. For me it is a wonderful thing to spend quality time with my little brother, my best mate and someone I love dearly.
Having well and truly scratched the itch that is canal boating we will definitely be returning for a second go. However, that will be after the trip to Seville, Rhonda and Cadiz so watch this space.
Ah, you thought I had forgotten. Even on a canal boat I managed to find a Bench of contemplation.
The Bench of Contemplation
I do hope you have enjoyed this nautical episode but stay tuned as Mrs. C and I have much more planned for the rest of the year.
Warmest regards to you all from a relatively warm and sunny Plymouth.