The Running Boat!

The daffodils were so beautiful in mid March

In November last year we took ourselves to the local Everyman cinema to watch The Running Man. Settled on the comfy sofas, enjoying wine and nachos, we watched the futuristic tale of a reality gameshow contestant who is on the run, narrowly avoiding disaster at every turn. Not my usual choice in movies, but we were keen to see Lucy's boyfriend Roberto in action, as he was performing many of the crazy stunts.

Our recent, and for reasons which we will explain later, last trip on Dun Eideann felt as though it was from the very same action genre. What should have been a gentle pootle along the Rochdale Canal, turned into an unpredictable adventure and narrow escape at every turn. We started our journey in Sowerby Bridge where we had abandoned the boat last summer with the canals closing due to water shortages. After a very wet Winter, the hope was that there would be enough water in the Rochdale Canal to float us across the Pennines. So on a rare sunny March weekend we set off, heading for the Middlewich Canal in Cheshire. After one last visit to The Hogs Head for hot pork scratchings (so tasty!), we queued for assisted passage through the first four locks.

The waterfall in Tuel Lane Lock

Only open for four hours once a week due to water management, they included Tuel Lane Lock, the deepest in the country.  It comes complete with its own waterfall courtesy of a massive leak. Luckily we had a buddy boat (interestingly Pete the skipper has a day job constructing sugar glass windows for film and tv stunts), and other than taking over three hours to pass through the locks, the passage was uneventful. After a night in Hebden Bridge we hit our first problem. Lock 16 had only 1/2 a working paddle (the norm is two and sometimes four) and took an hour to fill. Having let the Canal and River Trust (CRT) know the problem, they promptly shut the lock for 5 days - thankfully we were the other side of it and off to Todmorton. First issue averted!

Pretty Hebden Bridge

I was somewhat shaken by a very nasty altercation (think 90 degree turn out of bright sunshine into pitch black) with a solid steel guillotine lock gate just inside the tunnel at Todmorton.  Thankfully the only casualty was two whisky glasses and later that day after a slow trek up the hill of heavy locks we eventually made it to the summit of the canal and began our descent into Manchester. This is a notoriously challenging run, with anti vandal keys on all the locks and advice to stop only in very limited places. As we moored just over the summit we were surprised to find the pound lower than expected, but after re-floating the boat at 9pm (I gently pushed us off with my legs, earning  me my first ever dunking up to my knees!), we headed to bed. Roll forward a few hours to 4.30am and we woke to find the boat at what felt like a 45% angle. The pound had been emptied by what was almost certainly local youths raising the paddles on the lock ahead, and it was all action stations as we refilled the pound and re-floated the boat in complete darkness. Unable to go back to sleep, we had an early start that day. 

The rubbish on the second half of the Rochdale defied belief
Most too disgusting to show here!

We carried on through Rochdale (where the floating rubbish is almost incomprehensible) and arrived late afternoon to moor at the top of a small flight of locks on the outskirts of town. As we exited the last lock of the day on Monday afternoon, we met another boater coming in (only our second meeting with another boat in four days). "Hope you don't want to go any further", they announced, "CRT have shut the flight in front". Four days later and we were still there. We had stopped showering on Tuesday to preserve water. Diesel for heating and propulsion was still fine, but we were conscious it would not last indefinitely. The repair of the void discovered in the lock landing, scheduled for Thursday, had not happened. And so with heavy hearts we made plans to turn around and go back to Sowerby Bridge - particularly unappealing as the lock mechanisms we had encountered on our way across were so heavy and clunky Ian had to operate almost all of them. A last ditch call to CRT in desperation, and we got our miracle. We had an hour window and they would help us down the flight. We were there in ten minutes, abandoning our booking to visit the local swimming baths for a shower. Euphoria reigned and on a high, we tackled the 20 heavy locks into Manchester.  Finally, as we moored in the centre, just in front of the local "pirate boat" whose skipper assured us he knew all the local lads so we would be safe,  we felt we could breathe again. We stayed put for two nights, visiting Altrincham market and the Lowry, and thoroughly enjoyed riding the trams in a city we don't know particularly well. 

We loved an immersive presentation of  Lowry's "Going to the Match"

On the Monday morning as we left Manchester, the CRT shut lock 76 behind us which we had transited on Saturday afternoon, just 36 hours before.  Out of action due to a rotten gate, it remained shut for three and a half weeks until 24th April, suggesting we have probably been the only boat to sail East to West on the Rochdale canal so far this year. Rather more shockingly, 48 hours after we departed our mooring in Manchester, the canal drained completely due to a leak. Had we still been moored there we would have woken up to find ourselves grounded on the muddy bottom. I am sure those waking up to find themselves beached suspected an April Fool prank. But one month on and this section of the canal is still shut. 

We were moored directly in front of the "Pirate Boat"

Monday morning found us on the Ashton canal and enjoying the relative ease of narrow locks (literally we fit in with an inch to spare on either side). We tracked up past The Ethiad, thinking of Stephen who has been a season ticket holder there for most of his life. It was another so called no-moor zone, but we covered the ground in a few hours at which point we turned onto the pretty Peak Forest canal and normal boating as we know it resumed. It had been a hugely challenging 10 days, not helped by icy rain and cold winds. But every evening found us toasty as we lit our coal burner along with the central heating. The rest of our journey was delightful. We collected Mum at Marple, a pretty Yorkshire village - she loves her annual trips on the boat so much that she took three trains via Leicester and Sheffield to reach us. 

Mum joins us for her 5th trip aboard

On her first full day we tackled the 16 lock Marple Flight (shut for much of last summer), and on the second we cruised lock free towards Macclesfield. The lock closure on the Macclesfield Canal had thankfully been fixed by the time we went through, though one of the swing bridges behind us on the Peak Forrest closed for a few days after our passage through it.

       

Sunrise over Red Bull Aqueduct at the end of the Macclesfield

                                               

Turning on to the Trent and Mersey brought a sense of deja vue. We had travelled this route two years before, and this time I opted to helm the tight left hand turn onto the Middlewich Canal, watched closely by other boat owners. Somewhat surprisingly I feel more at home helming our 15 ton narrowboat than driving a car, and when Ian went to collect our car from Sowerby Bridge, I even helmed solo for a few hours, mooring confidently single handed. 

Our last mooring with Carole as solo skipper

                                                                       

On the final day of cruising we headed into Venetian Marina which has very friendly staff and a great cafe for breakfast and lunch. In just over 24 hours we cleared the boat of our personal possessions and said our goodbyes - the vast storage capacity on board became evident as we literally could  not fit everything into the car. We have decided to sell the boat while we still love her, having travelled, we reckon, over 70% of the network in the last four years. 

We relived so many good memories as
we highlighted our network coverage

                                                       

Over 365 days on board in total has given us extraordinary adventures and many happy memories. Two and a half years travelling away from Edinburgh has caused us to reflect on what our retirement will look like going forward. And a return visit to Hermanus in South Africa reinforced how much we like warm sunny winters (Ian is a convert!). The town is delightful with a stunning coastline and a top notch Bridge Club. Throw in exceptional wines, two local park runs, golf, and a cornucopia of cafes and restaurants, and we could not resist the little cottage we viewed while staying there in January. 

Much rationalisation of assets is now needed, so that we will end up with our flat in Edinburgh where we hope to spend most of the summers, a small London bolthole,  and a winter home just along the coast from Cape Town. As we juggle with a fair degree of upheaval to get things sorted, we are always mindful of our catchphrase painted on the sides of Dun Eideann which along with her name, was much remarked on during our travels: "Happiness is a journey, not a destination”.