It’s been a bit of a dash across Yorkshire for the last few
days. After passing the amazing array of weird and wonderful watercraft moored
downstreamfrom York , we arrived at Naburn the day before our tidal crossing was
booked. We were joined later by Shambles and Mandakini, plus Chris & Jan on
Squeezebox who were all going to be on the tideway with us. The gates were due
to be opened at quarter to three in the afternoon, so just like Selby on the
way up, we had the morning waiting around, checking and re-checking everything
and drinking far more tea than was good for us. This time of course it was a
lot more sociable; our little gang had been together for a week or so and we’d
all become quite friendly.
By three o’clock a little line of five narrowboats and
a plastic cruiser were out on the river.
For the first hour or so we were pushing the tide, (The lock-keeper lets you
out before high tide so that there’s still enough water in the river when you
get to Selby to get you over the lock cill.) but after it turned – which
happened over a period of about 5 minutes – we started picking up speed. Legend
and Shambles were the last two boats in our flotilla,
and as there is only room
for two boats at a time through Selby lock we backed off and let the others get
well out of sight, that way there’d be time to get it set for us. The GPS was
reading 5.9mph as we passed under the swing bridge at Cawood; we’ve never been
that fast, ever! 45 minutes later we passing the Hovis flour mills and rounding
the final turn before the lock
Doing a right angle turn into a lock from a flowing river is
a test of nerves. The theory works like this: you are travelling downstream on
the opposite side of the river to the lock. Just before you get there you turn
the boat 180 degrees so you are facing upstream. You adjust your speed to that
of the water so you are stationary with the back of the boat level with the
upstream lock wall. You steer in the flow so that you are about a boat length
from the bank, then stay like that till the lock-keeper opens the gates. In our
case that was about 10 minutes. When the gates are open you slow down a
fraction and turn towards the lock. The current turns the nose and when it just
clears the upstream wall you put the power on and go in, watching out for the
area of dead water just at the entrance which makes almost everyone bump the
wall. Dave had been rehearsing the whole thing in his head ever since we’d left
Selby, and it’s fair to say he was a bit hyped up about it. We had slight
concerns about Legend’s power capabilities; could she stem the tide enough to
hold our position? In the event it was fine. In fact it was bob-on perfect, and
we’re very proud of our efforts. As far as power was concerned we were
surprised how little we needed to stay still; the 10 minutes we spent
stationary were very educational, and stopped us using too many revs when we
went for the lock. Arthur went for the alternative method, turned below the
lock, then pushed upstream into it and came alongside. It all looked incredibly
professional.
Of course there are things you can’t plan for, like a tree coming
down the river, or a sudden gust of wind, but we’d be more than happy to do
that again and it’s made Salters Lode, a similar set-up between the Bedfordshire
Ouse and the Middle Level, a lot less scary.
As we were all moored in Selby basin for the night, Gordon
and Helena invited the intrepid gang members aboard Mandakini for Celebratory
Drinks & Nibbles. We had a smashing evening swapping stories and laughing a
lot. In the morning we all said very emotional goodbyes and we chugged off
through the swing bridge and down the still very weedy Selby canal.
We had another night at Beal and in the morning felt an
irresistible urge to re-visit the tea room. Just as we got back to the boat
Shambles came through the lock so we did the last bit up the River Aire to
Knottingly with Arthur behind us. He was turning left down the Knottingly and
Goole Canal while we were turning right back on the Aire & Calder
Navigation towards Woodlesford, so we had yet more goodbyes, which is when
Mandakini turned up. Gordon and Helena were going the same way as us, which
turned out to be a wet, windy and choppy voyage through Ferrybridge flood lock
and on to Castleford.
On one of the wilder stretches by Ferrybridge Power
Station, a big gust took the Chinese Hat off the chimney, and the little
lantern off the top of the cratch cover, and dumped them both in the river.
Neither of them were physically attached to the boat, which of course they
should have been – once again hindsight is the greatest teacher of all; their
replacements will be – and it just goes to show that although we might have looked
good getting into Selby, we’re not really all that river savvy. Yet.
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