Four Counties Odyssey
Part four. From Cheshire down to the Potteries.
[Advance notice: this post is very long and will be too long for some emails. I hope you bear with me and open it in your browser. Thank you.]
We never really got to see the middle of Middlewich, just the suburban outskirts near the canal.
Although no sightseeing was to be had, we were able to replenish supplies at the local supermarket, before heading off around midday. We aimed for a fairly easy day, before mooring up in a quiet spot just after the railway bridge, no.158. Although the light was fading a little, I did manage to grab a couple of shots on EM of some interesting looking allotments opposite. Just getting the old tlr* out for a play satisfied my desire (need?) to shoot a little film that day.
The following morning found us heading through Wheelock, with a brief stop at the wharf to offload an accumulation of rubbish bags at the facility and a quick stroll to the little convenience shop along the way. We desperately needed boxes of tissues, so I was relieved to see the shelf within was well stocked. Luckily the friendly shopkeeper wasn’t too fazed at me taking most of the boxes he had, of all shapes and sizes.
Onward we travelled and through the Wheelock Eight. As we came into the bottom lock, a guy heading the other way warned us of an issue with one of the gates on lock 63, the water coming through it looking like a mini Niagara, as if someone had left the paddle wide open (presumably a damaged mechanism or something jamming it). As a result, the water level in the pound above was apparently somewhat on the low side - something of a worry. Luckily it wasn’t quite as bad as we thought and both boats got through without too much bother.
We moored above the top lock, no59, for the night.
A shorter day followed and we were moored up at Rode Heath not long after two o’clock. We had a pleasant chat with a couple who were constant cruisers that were moored nearby. The lady was also rather taken with Percy. That evening we were once again blessed with a glorious sunset.
A quick visit to the local post office was in order the following morning before we cast off. These next two days were also fairly laid back in terms of lock miles, though a certain unease was starting to settle in. Were we in good shape to face Harecastle Tunnel in a couple of days?
En route, we had about an hour’s wait just below bridge 136.
It sits tight up against the bottom of lock 48. I’d have gone back to help Hyperion through the previous lock, but we were moored on the lock pins, so I couldn’t leave Jubilee in case anyone else was coming through. Apart from having time for a brew, it did give me the opportunity to scratch my itchy ‘trigger’ finger whilst having a look around the lock and bridge. Like a number of locks on this stretch, one half had been abandoned many years previously, offering plenty of photographic possibilities. Eventually Hyperion caught up and we moved on together.
A little way on from here, we headed through Church Locks, mooring shortly after.
Heading off the following morning, we clambered through the next six locks, to moor up at Kidsgrove full of hope for another visit to a laundrette in the town.
It was a fair walk to the establishment, bags in hand. When we got there, though, the door was open, the lights were on, but nothing worked and there was nobody home. A rather odd, somewhat vexing experience…
As we cast off the next morning, thoughts of the previous evening’s wander into the twilight zone gradually faded, though, as we refocussed on the task in hand for the day - our navigation of Harecastle.
There are various horror stories online of folks whose boats fell foul of the tunnel’s ancient brickwork, emerging at the other end somewhat the worse for wear. So, we were thinking ‘is everything on the roof low enough to get through without being smashed off? Were our head and navigation lights working ok? Oh, and the horn, of course....?’ We’d been through the tunnel in a hire boat about twenty years previously, but the memory of that occasion was decidedly murky. Anyway, all seemed ok as far as we could tell...
Once through lock 41 we headed for the tunnel’s north entrance, where we were greeted by a very friendly and helpful chap from Canal & Rivers Trust. He was there to check all really was ok both the boat and it, occupants and that we were suitably prepared. We thought there would be a fair wait for the allotted time to go through, allowing boats through from the other direction, but traffic was minimal. As such, once Hyperion had caught up and was ready, we slowly manoeuvered to the entrance. Once inside, I opened the throttle to a respectable cruising speed and headed off into the bowels of the Earth.
The first section is deceptively high, with plenty of headroom, but this was deceptive. Due to the hill settling somewhat over the two and a half centuries since it was built, the top of the tunnel gradually gets closer and closer to the top of one’s head. Even at my modest height of around five foot eight, there was a point towards the middle where I had to duck my head just to be sure I would come out of the other end without losing any more of the few brain cells I have left. Still, as long as I remained focussed on the job in hand, all would be well, keeping Jubilee and her passengers free from harm. As you keep heading through the darkness, you begin to wonder if you’ll ever see the other end of it’s one-point-six mile length, beginning to feel like this is an endless voyage into oblivion. Eventually, though, a small, bright dot becomes perceptible in the far distance. As you go along, the height of the tunnel’s roof gradually increases again, too, back roughly to where it was at the entrance. The door at the far end is kept closed until we’re within shouting distance of the exit. This is needed for the tunnel’s air conditioning system to function. It is essentially a huge fan that draws the air and all the exhaust fumes through and out of the tunnel so that you don’t get gassed as you go along.
Suddenly, the door swung open and I was thinking “hello beautiful bright daylight, good bye gloom!” as I blinked and squinted at it’s brilliance.
As it turned out, it was actually rather good fun going the tunnel. I probably thought this the last time we’d come through, too. It’s funny how the memory dims.
We moored a little way along and I walked back to grab a couple of snaps of Hyperion emerging from the gloom and to have a closer look at the entrance to Brindley’s old tunnel ‘next door’.
This tunnel has been impassable since a partial collapse just prior to the first world war. Telford’s wider, higher tunnel has been the only navigable one since. It’s hard to imagine having to ‘leg it’ through this narrow space with very little light available
We continued on our journey until we moored shortly after the Middleport Potteries. Just before this, though, I couldn’t help but notice the derelict and dilapidated factory buildings at the canal-side.
This was the old abandoned works of Price and Kensington’s Teapot Works. I couldn’t resist walking back with both my 6D dslr and EM tlr. I lost count how many photos I took as it was one of those places that, as a subject, really ‘floats my boat’ as they say.
We fancied a look around Middleport Potteries the following morning, but this meant reversing Jubilee back down the cut a few hundred yards to moor up on their wharf.
There were a number of seats and picnic tables in fairly close proximity and, of course, there were also a number of people sat there. Usually when there’s an audience, things have a habit of going awry. Fortunately on this occasion all went smoothly. Once lashed to the mooring rings, I managed to get Irene and wheelchair up the cobbles, where we met up with Viv and Graham for a mooch around the factory, shops and cafe. All very enjoyable.
We had a spot if lunch before climbing back onboard and casting off once again.
Eventually we moored between bridges 112 and 109. Or was it 110 and 109? There seems to be some confusion in the Nicholson’s Canal guide. Either way, it was a peaceful enough stay. Interestingly, the towpath must be a popular route, as the path is way-marked with illuminated ‘cats eyes’.
Ah, you’re still here with me? Excellent! Thank you for sticking it out to end, I do appreciate it.
Hopefully see you next time for the final installment.
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What a magical set of photos, Ralph! I especially love the sunrise photo and the one under the bridge! What a magical corner of the world!
I would be hard pressed not to stop and try to get into that old wire factory ;) great stuff!