Macclesfield Canal. Bollington Wharf.

 Hello again!

No doubt, Dear Reader, you’re wondering where we’ve been for the last seven months.

Well, as planned, at the beginning of November last year (2022) we slid into a very cosy and secure mooring at Bollington Wharf.

Legend would be under the watchful eyes of our friends Brian and Ann Marie while we went off to stay with Frankie and Harry in France until New Year. (To avoid confusion, our Ann-Marie has a hyphen, and Bollington Ann Marie doesn’t.)

The car journey down to the south of France didn’t go exactly as planned; we were booked on the Newhaven – Dieppe ferry and had arranged to stay with Mum and Dad in Fleet the night before, however our car broke down on the way. Thankfully it made it to Mum and Dad’s driveway, but instead of boarding the ferry, our first day travelling was spent shopping for a new car. Two days later we were back on track, happily motoring through the French countryside in a new (to us) Citroen C3 Picasso. We stopped in Brittany to stay for a couple of nights with Jacqui and Al in the lovely house that they’ve just finished renovating...

...before carrying on south to Jussas, near Bordeaux, where Frankie and Harry live.

The time flew while we were there. The main reason for going was so that Dave could give Harry a hand in the workshop, and Ann-Marie could help looking after Thibault and Axelle. It sort of worked like that, but in reality it was a lovely long holiday. December was full of birthdays, and of course once Christmas loomed closer and other family folk began arriving, work in the garage dwindled somewhat, so Dave didn’t get as much done as he’d hoped. He did get quite a lot of the time consuming rubbing down done however, and on his days off he took advantage of the workshop facilities (and Harry’s expertise) and gave our car a new cam belt & water pump and a good service.

Christmas and New Year were fabulous, with Jon & Jo and Chloe & Shandy arriving with all their kids, turning Jussas into a delightfully chaotic melee of cousins.

Here are a few photos of the highlights.

 The journey back home was nice and smooth with another stop off at Jacqui and Al’s, then three  nights at Karen’s before driving back up north to the Wharf.

Before we went to France we’d both had Achilles injuries and had to stop running, so while we were down there we restarted the Couch To 5K program. We went out first thing in the morning two or three times a week, so by the time we came back we were ready to return to parkrun. Karen’s local one at Frimley Lodge was the test, and we both did OK; no ankle pains and respectable finish times.  

Back at Bollington we had a few days sorting ourselves out before discussing with Brian and Ann Marie about what they needed us to do to help around the boat yard. Dave was tasked with crewing with Brian on Nb Alton’s fortnightly three-day run, delivering coal, gas and diesel on the Macc and Peak Forest canals, plus going with Brian or Ann Marie on van deliveries to the places the boats can’t access while the winter closures are in place, and generally helping out around the yard. Meanwhile Ann-Marie would be working alternate weeks in the chandlery/office; serving passing boats with coal and diesel, general admin and taking hire boat bookings.

This was Ann-Marie's workplace....

This was one of Dave's.....

...and this was the other.

Van deliveries may be hard graft, but driving round the Cheshire countryside first thing in the morning does have it's perks.

The original plan was that we’d do a few weeks work in return for Legend’s mooring, but it soon turned into something a lot bigger. For various reasons, by the end of January one of their boat crew had left, and the person they had on trial as a replacement only lasted a day and a half. On top of that, the couple who were running the office and yard every other week gave notice, leaving B&AM desperately short handed. We couldn’t bring ourselves to leave our mates in the lurch, so we agreed to stay on till the end of March while they got sorted. It was hard graft; Alton’s weekend coal load alone was about 10 tonnes in 20kg bags. But we got every other week off, and having free use of the workshop, partial gas bottles, split coal bags and shore power, as well as not using any diesel, made boat life through the winter months dramatically easier.

It also meant that when Chloe and Shandy began building their ICF house in Randlestown, Co. Antrim, we could zoom over there on our weeks off to help. Ever since he left the RAF, Shandy had been trying to join the NI Fire Service. He’d been through the recruitment process, been accepted, and was just waiting for a start date. About a year ago they’d sold their house, bought a plot of land with foundations and planning permission for a four bed bungalow, and were living on-site in a static caravan until they’d sorted out their finances enough to start building. That happened a lot quicker than they’d hoped, and of course Sod’s law decreed that - almost to the day - the ICF materials turned up at the same time that Shandy got his basic training start date, meaning that after the first month of building he wouldn’t be there much. And when he was there he’d be either knackered after running hoses all day, or polishing his shoes and ironing his uniform. 

We’d already arranged to go over for a week to give them a hand, going by ferry from Liverpool to Dublin and slotting in an Irish Parkrun on the way.  As the week wore on it became obvious that they were going to need more help, we needed to get home for the coalboat run and a pre-booked holiday in Wales, but could just fit in another week between that and a party, so we agreed to come back, but had to fly this time.

Here's some photos of the build.

WEEK ONE

Leaving Liverpool on the Dublin Freight ferry.

Insulated Concrete Formwork (ICF) 

The panels are easy to handle and quick to build. 

The house is progressing well

The bracing in place. This keeps the walls straight while they're being built and stops them deforming when the concrete is poured.

Scaffolding planks so we can reach the top.

Getting up to wall-plate height.

The Static family home while the building happens. We were cosy in the caravan.

Back to Liverpool on the ferry for another stint at in the wharf .

 

WEEK TWO

After a frantic week got up to wall-plate level just in time for the first concrete pour.

Lunch on the scaffolding. No time to stop.

The walls are full of concrete.

Back on the plane home again. There's still loads to do before the roofers can take over, so it won't be long before we're back again.

So, between those two weeks, as well as a damp, muddy coal run...

...we had a fabulous, relaxing and fun-filled five day break in Anglesey with Bob and Mandy. They'd got an apartment in Beaumaris for a fortnight and had very kindly invited us to join them for the second week after their grandchildren had gone home.

The fantastic Beaumaris Castle.

South Stack lighthouse on Holyhead.

Newborough Country Park

Last day dinner with our terriffic friends at the Boathouse in Red Wharf Bay.

We chose Leeds Bradford for our second trip to Ireland so that we could go straight to Kate's 70th birthday party in Keighley when we got back.

That was a really good do with lots of Kate and Dave's friends that we hadn't seen for yonks. Somehow we found the energy to boogie all night long. We had a night with Kate & Dave, before heading back to the wharf.

So for the first three months of 2023 - apart from a short trip to Wales - we were either working in a coal yard in Cheshire, driving to catch a ferry or a plane, or running around a building site in Northern Ireland. Understandably, we were a bit broken by the end of it all, and things like monthly boat maintenance and this blog had dropped off the list of priorities.

However, we did find time to take care of one bit of boat maintenance. In a corner of the workshop at the wharf, Dave noticed an industrial sewing machine. We’d been needing a new cratch cover for a year or two, so we figured that if we bought some material and some new zips, it would not be beyond the wit of man (or Dave) to rustle one up using our old one as a pattern.

Taking our old cratch cover apart.

The new material. It's PVC backed acrylic canvas, so it's inherently waterproof without any treatment and should last for ages. 

Our new cover in progress.

 So when we pulled out of Bollington Legend was wearing a new, zippable, and beautifully waterproof front cover. We’re very pleased with it.

Somehow, we managed to slot a bit of a social life in-between everything else. Dave and Kate came to stay for a couple of days, and Clive and Fiona came and had dinner while they were here; a fab reunion for all concerned.

A lovely catch up with or old 2cv club mates.

At the end of March, after lots of goodbyes, tearful hugs and promises of return visits, we left our friends’ cosy yard and moored up about half a mile away on Bollington Aqueduct so we could get to the other side of the boat before moving on. It didn’t take us long to adjust back to our quiet little boating life; Legend got cleaned up after a winter under the trees, Dave caught up with the monthly boat checks, and we felt like ourselves again.

We’re sorry we left you for so long, Dear Reader, but we’re back now and hope you’ll stay with us. This year our plans include the Standedge Tunnel, the Calder and Hebble and South Yorkshire Navigations, an upstream trip on the River Trent through Newark and Nottingham, (including a run up to the top bit of the Chesterfield that we couldn’t get to last time) and the River Soar through Loughborough and Leicester. Somehow we’re going to squeeze in trips to France and Ireland as well, so there’s plenty of excitement to come.

Scholar Green to Bollington. Macclesfield Canal.

 With Legend moored for more than just one night at Scholar Green, we had the opportunity to do more than just boat and car moves. Dave got a message from Brian saying that Jason on Nb Bargus - one of the Four Counties Fuel Boats - would be single-handing up Heartbreak Hill on the Tuesday morning and would appreciate someone lock wheeling for him if we could spare the time. Dave jumped at the chance. We have developed our own spheres of expertise when it comes to locking. Dave steers the boat and Ann-Marie does the majority of the lock wheeling, which means we get many comments from gongoozlers about Dave loafing about on the back while Ann-Marie does all the hard work. Although that is true, we are perfectly happy with the situation. Ann-Marie gets claustrophobic in the bottom of a lock and loves the chance to chat to people up on the lock side, while Dave is much more at home out of earshot, and he puts his fair share of physical effort in when it comes to firewood.

Incidentally, the term “Lock Wheeling” we think comes not from the act of turning a windlass to open paddles, but from the working boats, when they would use of a bicycle to get back and forth between the locks on a flight, in order to set ahead, close behind and keep the boat moving as swiftly and efficiently as possible. During WWII the “Idle Women” had a crew of three on each pair of boats; one on the motor, one on the butty and one whizzing up and down the towpath on the bike.

Anyway, back to Nb Bargus on Heartbreak Hill. Dave was keen to help because it meant he could get to do the locking for a change, so he was up and six and, windlass in hand, off down the flight to find Jason. As he got further down it became apparent that someone had got their wires crossed as there was no sign of anything moving. Dave phoned Jason a couple of times, but it went to voicemail and he eventually reached Wheelock without finding him. Later that day, he found out that Jason had gone up on the Monday and would indeed have loved having someone to help. Oh well, at least Dave got a nice walk and Ann-Marie got him out of her hair for a while. She turned our Halloween pumpkin into some very nice soup, and we spent the afternoon cosied up with a fire and a film while it got all wet and windy outside.

It was still windy in the morning, but we went out anyway; along part of the Gritstone Trail and up Mow Cop where we nearly got blown off the top.

When we got back, we found out that Chloe had fallen off her horse and broken her collar bone, poor love. From the x-rays it looks like she may need surgery and a plate to put it right, so she'll be in our thoughts for a while.

While we were stopped Dave got the last bit of painting done on the swan neck, when that’s dry he can get the Turk’s heads cleaned up and whitened and the anchor back in its stowage place and we’ll be back to normal.

You won’t see pictures of the visitor moorings in Congleton on a chocolate box or a jigsaw. “Handy for the shops” is about the most glowing anyone has ever got in describing the stretch of canal that sneaks, unnoticed, through a gloomy cutting and below a motley collection of bridges near the railway station. It’s a shame because it’s quite a nice town. We moored just south of it at Henshall’s bridge where we found some marigolds and cape daisies in the hedge, no doubt abandoned by summer cruisers on their way back to their marina. Ann-Marie re-homed them with the nasturtiums which, considering they’d had at least one severe pruning and it was now November, were still looking quite good.  The next day we boated through Congleton and across the aqueduct over the disused railway line to moor up on the offside in an old railway loading branch. We’ve moored there before and love it. It’s quiet and secluded with plenty of space and even a bench. If we’d had more time we’d have stayed for much longer, but with Bosley locks only opening on Friday, Saturday and Monday each week, we had to crack on. The next day was a Sunday, so we had an early start and took the car to the middle of the Bosley flight followed by a lovely walk back along the Dane Valley way and a bit more of the Gritstone Trail which took us up and over The Bosley Cloud. It was fabulous to be up there and although it was a bit hazy, the views from the top were terrific.

We pulled the pins and set off as soon as we got back and almost made it to the bottom of Bosley locks before it started raining, ready for our climb up the flight the next day. The locks were open and manned from nine till four, but we had to go off for an appointment first and didn’t get back to Legend until after eleven o’clock. As we were walking down the flight from the carpark, we met the volunteers who were working Adam on Nb Saramanda up the flight. We had a quick chat with him as we passed and found out that he’d only had his boat for six days and had single handed it from Nantwich. Talk about a steep learning curve! We told Adam that we’d be on our way up soon and we’d see him at the top. One of the volunteers reminded us that the last entry was at one o’clock and they locked up at four, no doubt worried that we might make him late for his tea, but unknowingly laying down a gauntlet. When it comes to boat handling, every day is still very much a school day, but we’ve been at this for quite a while now, and with four thousand-odd locks behind us we’ve got a few slick tricks up our sleeves. So they were a bit surprised when, having done eleven of the twelve locks by ourselves, we popped up behind them just as they were locking the top lock, not long after Saramanda had come out of it.

Entering the bottom lock

Halfway up with The Cloud in the background.

Nearly at the top.

We had thought we’d carry on, but after making full use of the services at the top lock we changed our minds and decided to stay put till the morning.  Our next stop was at Gurnett Aqueduct on the outskirts of Macclesfield. We stopped there for a few days while we caught up with all the little jobs on the To-Do list, including an oil change, so there will be fresh oil in the Lister while were not using it. We also went to see Brian and Ann Marie at Bollington Wharf to finalise arrangements for leaving Legend there while we go away. We now just have a huge packing list of stuff to take for seven weeks away - including Christmas and New Year in a foreign country - and another list of things to do to winterise the boat.

So no, Dear Reader, just in case you were wondering, after nearly twelve years of idly messing about on the water, we still haven’t Become Listless.

Our last bit of boating in 2022 was from Macclesfield to Bollington where, with an enormous sense of achievement, we tucked Legend in at the wharf.

Arriving at Bollington.

Legend having a rest for a while.

On more than one occasion, with all that had gone on over the year, we hadn't honestly believed that we'd make it, but here we were. We could go off to stay with Frankie and Harry and our gorgeous grandchildren till the new year and not worry about the boat.

On our final walk back for the car we had a short, sharp climb up White Nancy and along the Saddle of Kerridge in the gorgeous November sunshine..

 

We're going to put the blog on hold till we get back, so we'll take this opportunity to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. We'll see you in 2023.