Four Counties Odyssey

Part five. Completing the Ring, then homeward bound.

(Once again, I’m afraid, this post will be too long for some emails. Please open it in your browser to see it all. Thank you.)

Although the morning began much like most on this journey, thing’s took an unusual twist before we ‘set sail’.

As you can imagine, towpaths are very popular with dog walkers, there usually being a friendly exchange as they pass by. What I don’t normally expect to encounter is a popular film and tv actor or, at least if not, someone who is the absolute spitting image of one. I had to look twice, then look again. Could it be?

For a brief few moments I had a very friendly conversational exchange with Neil Morrissey (or his absolute doppelgänger if not). That was it, just a few kind words between two people enjoying being out in the fresh air. Well, maybe a touch more, as his manner seemed more forthcoming than your average pooch walker. Maybe he recognised the slightly befuddled smile on my face as we passed, maybe even heard the cogs whirring frantically in my brain, who knows? And that was it. He continued on his stroll and we proceeded to cast off in the opposite direction. Irene let out a little whoop when I mentioned who I might have just been talking to but, sadly, it was too late by then for her to see as it all happened so quickly.

The rest of the day went without any major incident or excitement, just stopping briefly for a top-up shop near bridge 106. It often comes as a slight shock to the system when you have to face the ‘normal’ pace of life, as we did when walking up to the convenience shop at the garage on the busy road next to the bridge. It’s always good to get back down on to the Cut, where life slows down again to a more civilised pace. We moored that night just after Meaford bottom lock.

Coming through lock 29 the following morning didn’t go quite as smoothly as we’d have liked. Somehow I’d missed seeing that one of the side doors on the counter had swung open over the lock wall. By the time I’d seen it, Graham had already started letting water out of the lock to ease us down. The door was wedged tight on the stonework as the boat started tip sideways. I hollered to Graham to close the paddle, but he couldn’t hear me over the roar of the escaping water. As you can imagine, my stress levels suddenly went stratospheric as the boat rolled ever further. These doors are mounted on open-ended hinges, designed to come off relatively easily but, unluckily, our door’s hinges were a little rusty and stuck. Eventually, and much to our huge collective relief, the rust gave and the door popped off like cork out of a bottle, landing with a deafening clatter on the counter as the boat steadied itself. Well, we emerged from the bottom of the lock with more than slightly twisted, frayed nerves but, luckily, no more than a slightly twisted but fixable hinge on the door.

Taking in the views around the Canal Cruising Company’s boatyard as we wait at the top of the Stone Flight.

After a quick watering-up stop at the bottom of the lock, we continued on our way into the market town of Stone, stopping at the top of lock 28. We temporarily moored on the lock pins to wait for Hyperion. This took a little while, giving me time to admire the view over our immediate vicinity, particularly the quaint old boat-shed workshop opposite, where I could just make out a vessel in the dry dock within. We could hear the steady thump-thump-thump of music coming from a festival taking place over the other side of town. It turned out that there was also a floating market taking place just along from where we eventually moored for the day at the bottom of the flight of locks. Once settled, we had a quiet wander along to see the wares on sale.

A couple of weeks previously I’d been in contact with my good friend Amanda Claire Vesty, of Ancient and Sacred Trees. Living in the area, she suggested the possibility of meeting up. We’ve known each other for about twelve years, first connecting on facebook on her excellent page ‘Ancient and Sacred Trees of Britain’. I’ve been quiet on there for some time, but we’ve kept some level of contact over the years, though we’ve never met in person. I was delighted when we managed to organise a meet-up while we were in the area. With the festival going on, parking nearby was decidely tricky though, luckily, Amanda and her friend, Simon, managed to find a spot in the carpark of the Star Inn, next to the aptly named Star Lock.

I wandered up to greet them in the pub’s garden. After hugs all round, we sat for a good, long chat over a welcome drink. A little later, we all wandered back down to Jubilee, where Simon, Amanda and her lovely little dog, Bella, were introduced to Irene and Percy. Further thoroughly enjoyable conversation ensued. Even Bella and Percy accepted each other’s presence without issue. All went exceedingly well. So well, in fact, that we forgot to take any memento group photos. Ah well, next time, hopefully. It was an absolute joy to finally catch up face to face and it’s been my privilege to promote her very worthy cause at the end of each of my articles, here on the ‘Stack, ever since I first started two and a half years ago.

After a little bit of early morning top-up shopping at the nearby M&S we headed off around our usual time the next day.

CRT ‘butties’ lashed to trees on the bank until they’re needed. They bob about like corks on the ocean in a passing boat’s modest wash. Sadly, the trees take a bit of a bashing.

The highlight of the day was seeing a wondrous old tree in a field made golden by a sea of buttercups. Where the field met the canal at the water’s edge, we encountered a young family of geese, Mum and Dad carefully guarding their precious fluffy bundles and, possibly, one or two from other families.

That glorious tree and those cute, fluffy bundles.

We moored up just after bridge 77.

After bridge 77

After one hundred and ten miles and ninety four locks, we finally ‘closed the circle’ the following morning, arriving back at Great Haywood Junction. This seemed like a good time to moor up and put the kettle on for a brew while we waited for Hyperion to water up at the boatyard.

lrene feeding the swan near bridge 77, Percy making sure she did it right. That little fella had quite an appetite.

Onward we travelled when Hyperion joined us again. Up to this point, we had been remarkably lucky with the weather, most of any precipitation falling at night. I guess, though, that Mother Nature had decided that now we’d achieved our goal and were embarking on our homeward stretch, we’d had our fair share of fine weather. As the afternoon progressed, so did the onslaught of much colder, wetter conditions. Wrapping up well against the elements, we eventually moored just before bridge 57 in Handsacre.

Handsacre.

Despite less than optimal weather, we needed to press on in order to get home on time, so a cunning plan was hatched. Apparently, though, Fate and Lady Luck were still colluding and hadn’t finished messing with us yet, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

As we set off, (once again at around our usual time, about half an hour after the planned time,… as usual) the heavy skies started to reveal what they really had in store for us.

Clouds incoming..

Down came the rain in bucket loads. Then it would ease off and the sun burst forth with it’s hot radiance, warm enough for the rainwater on our roof to evaporate into it’s own little cloud system. The light would fade and then the gusty winds would pick up, followed by the next deluge. This cycle repeated itself several times over the next two or three hours.

A delude, then glorious sun, all within just a few minutes.

Changeable.

We began to execute our cunning plan when we stopped at Shade House Lock, the first of the Fradley flight, while Viv and Graham took Hyperion down through to Fradley Junction. We watched and felt the weather’s volatile temperament while we waited for Graham to return. Once back with us, the three (sorry, Percy, four) of us carried on down through, eventually mooring on the other side of the village. With the strong wind blowing, holding the boat in the pounds while Graham worked the locks was a bit of a challenge, but all went well, right up until approaching lock seventeen. While the boat in the lock was about to exit, I held on near the junction with the Coventry Canal with enough space to creep forward and into the lock before the wind took us. All would have been well if they’d eased out at a reasonable speed, but they came at a snail’s pace. By the time they’s passed us, I was rapidly running out of room to manoeuvre, getting blown towards the wall and it’s barrier in front of the lock. In an attempt to avoid hitting the wall I opened the throttle and powered my way into the lock, though unfortunately not without leaving a small token of paint behind. Not great, but it got the job done. The rest of the way to our final destination of the day was fairly gentle, eventually mooring between locks fourteen and thirteen.

Here, Graham left us to hike back to Hyperion for the night, returning in the morning to see us back to our marina, while Hyperion sat tight at Fradley.

Variations on a theme. Bullrushes against an ever-changing sky

From there the plan was that, once safely back at base, I would drive Graham back to meet Hyperion, then returning to base to await their return. When Graham walked back to us in the morning, we’d received the news from a passer-by that there was a tree down right across the cut just the other side of Branston Lock. The last lock of our travels. Little more than a mile from the marina. So near, yet so far. As we set off we hatched a new plan, aiming to moor before the lock and, if we can, somewhere near a road where could bring the boat close to.

To Fradley and beyond. The blue elephant us watching..

As luck would have it, we managed to moor before bridge 34 near a quiet cul-de-sac that was literally a few hundred yards away from the canal on the other side of a hedge, with easy access between. At least this way we could pack and make it home in time, leaving Jubilee for Graham and Viv to bring her home when the way was clear in a day or two (they had more spare time at their disposal than us). Graham and I walked back along the towpath to the marina to collect our van, whereupon I drove Graham back to Fradley, then returned to find the cul-de-sac. As I mentioned, Fate and Lady Luck were still messin’ with us.

Along the way as we walked back to the marina. Poor old willow.

Hyperion caught up with us the next day, mooring a few boat-lengths behind. Around the middle of the day, we heard the glorious news that the waterway was, once again, free of obstruction. Hyperion continued onward to moor just outside the marina, where Graham walked back to the lock to meet us shortly after. Onward we travelled, through the lock with Graham’s assistance once again, then back to base. Getting into the marina is always a bit of a challenge, as it has to be done in reverse. Nose into the winding hole opposite, then ease back under the very narrow bridge, through a canopy-covered access channel little wider than a lock. Once through, there are a number of other boats moored in close proximity, as the boat is eased backward and gently nudged into the narrow gap next to the jetty.

And so endeth our big adventure. Time to relax a little and have a well earned cuppa, so, kettle on!

Jubilee back at her home. The access channel is visible behind the planters in the foreground.

Hyperion decided to stay just outside the marina for the night, Graham and Viv walking the short distance to meet us on Jubilee. At this point, I fancied stretching my legs again, so walked back along the towpath to yesterday’s mooring to collect the van.

Along the way I stopped briefly to photograph a beautiful swan’s nest, with Mum sat sleepily on top, keeping her brood warm, while Dad stood guard. Witnessing these things always seems such a privilege. Onward to the van, with a few more snaps along the way.

That poor willow again, and a last look at the last lock.

All packed and ready to face the big noisy world again the next day, we bid farewell to our wonderful travelling companions, Irene’s Mum, Viv and her husband Graham and, of course, Jubilee. Until next time and wherever the water takes us..

Percy is there, too, already in the van, wondering what’s taking us so long.

---

Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed coming along on our voyage and thank you for being here. See you next time. Take care.

---

---

Thanks again. Please consider making a contribution to our collective future and help Amanda plant a tree. All proceeds go to:

---

---