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At Ducie Street Junction, we turned right on to the Ashton Canal and our boating friends came along this way too. We had heard all sorts of stories about this canal, how the local youths board your boat and run through the inside, taking what they can, or leap onto the roof and throw everything off, or throw things at boaters, etc., so we were a little apprehensive, to say the least, though we're well aware that stories get magnified out of all proportion. In the event all was fine, the only problem we encountered with the local wildlife being some "lads" throwing water bombs from a sixth floor balcony. We weren't hit but a man on the other boat was, and, although it didn't hurt him, it startled him. BW staff were at the lock and were waiting for the police to come and sort it out.
On the Ashton Canal
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There are eighteen locks on the Ashton Canal, all single width, so we couldn't share this time, but nevertheless one of the men on the other boat came and helped us when he could. It was a scorching hot day, and Trev got tired cycling up and down the canal opening, setting and closing the locks. At the very last lock, there was a group of lads with bicycles, and they were probably harmless enough, but I said to Trev that, as it was the last lock, maybe it would be safer to put the bike back onto the boat. That was my BIG MISTAKE! I got the boat into the bank with some difficulty, as the canal was very shallow, and Trev put the bike back on the boat, but I couldn't get off again, I was grounded. In the end Trev pushed me off the side and then I had no power. The prop was fouled, I couldn't go forwards or backwards, and just drifted over to the opposite side of the canal. Fortunately our friends on the other boat came up trumps. They pulled alongside and took a rope and pulled us back to the towpath side. Trev, and Phil from the other boat, spent about half an hour trying to unwrap the obstruction from the weed hatch, but to no avail, so in the end, they all pulled us through the last lock and round the corner, where we moored up. Then Trev and Phil tried again for another half hour, but no more luck. At this point, the other boat had to go on, as it was a hire boat and they were on a schedule. They had been great company and we were sorry to see them go. If you read this--Thank you all so much!
So, now we were moored up in an area we didn't know, still a little too close to the urban area for comfort, with a boat that wouldn't go! Trev spent the next three hours trying to remove the obstruction, and managed to get a little of it out, but not much. It turned out we had someone's mattress springs well and truly coiled round the prop. In the end I managed to persuade him to call it a day. We belong to an organisation called River and Canal Rescue, rather like the AA of the canals, and so he 'phoned them and made arrangements for them to come in the morning. The place where we were moored was OK, as it turned out, and we spent a quiet enough night.
We'd had quite a day. It had started in Manchester at 8.15, we'd done twenty-seven locks, on a very hot day and then Trev had spent hours upside down in the weedhatch. He was tired out and we were both feeling pretty grubby. We had a shower and our dinner and then sat down to get over it!
5 miles 27 locks
Wednesday, 3rd June
RCR arrived about 11.00 a.m. and it took two of their men another three hours to remove the mattress springs from the prop. They were a cheerful pair, and did it with their bare hands! We fed them copious cups of coffee and sandwiches to keep their spirits (and energy) up, and eventually all of the springs came out. They set off back to Stafford, from whence they had come, and we set off along the last part of the Ashton Canal. What a relief. We'd wondered if we had done more damage to the boat than just fouling the prop, as we'd lost power, but fortunately we were lucky.
It's surprising how quickly the scenery can change. Just a few hundred yards, and it was all so different. Blocks of flats gave way to pretty cottages and houses with attractive gardens. We stopped for water at Portland Basin and then turned right at Dukinfield Junction onto the Peak Forest Canal. Almost immediately we were out into the countryside again, even if we could see the Manchester high rises on the horizon. We travelled along, enjoying the views, the lush vegetation and the interesting buildings along the way. We were somewhat surprised to be asked to slow down as we passed Warble Boats. As I said to the man who made the request, any slower and we'd be going backwards. We really don't go fast past moored boats, but I think it's because we have a deep draught and pull a lot of water.
Eventually we found a delightful mooring by Bridge 10 and pulled in to enjoy the views and tranquillity. It really was a lovely spot, but I'm a worrier, and so, when I heard what sounded like a police helicopter hovering over us at about 1.00 a.m., I was convinced there was a convict on the run who was going to break in at any moment. So it was after 3.00 before I dropped off!
6 miles
Thursday, 4th June
Ahead of us now we had the joys of the Marple locks, a flight of sixteen locks, and all quite deep. First we had about three miles of pretty countryside and then we arrived at the first lock. Trev got the bike off the boat and did his usual trick of riding ahead to set the lock then riding back to let me out and shut the gate of the previous one. He's a bit like a dog--he covers the same ground about three times! These locks were so pretty and there were lots of Gongoozlers about, which made for a bit of company, even if we do get asked the same questions almost every time:
Do you live on board?
How long have you lived on board?
How long are you going to do it for?
What do you do about your post?
What do you do about the doctor?
Is it cold in the winter?
And so on! The pounds were shallow (the pounds are the part of the canal between the locks) and I got grounded a couple of times. Trev had to let more water down through the locks to set me afloat again.
We moored up, with difficulty, near the juntion of the Peak Forest and the Macclesfield Canals. I say with difficulty, as it was shallow and we couldn't get the back end of the boat in, but we got near enough to be able to get off, which is what we did later in the evening and went for an excellent Italian meal at La Dolce Vita. We ate there about four years ago, when we last came through and it was good then, but we wondered if it would still be as good. It was! It seems to me that with privately owned Italian restaurants, the families tend to keep the restaurants for years, even passing them down through the family, rather than moving ever onwards and upwards. They don't have a website, so I can't direct you to it.
4 miles 16 locks
Friday, 5th and Saturday 6th June
Today we set off for Bugsworth Basin, at the end of the Peak Forest Canal. It's allegedly a wonderful piece of industrial heritge, maybe it is, but unfortunately it rained whilst we were there, and we were moored near the Chapel-en-le-Frith bypass and didn't find it the most excting of places. We stayed here for two nights, only because of the rain, but luckily there is a Tesco within walking distance and so Trev fetched me my Saturday "Daily Telegraph". I don't buy this because of its political affiliation, I would like you to know, but I enjoy the General Knowledge crossord, and all of the different sections. I also love "C'est La Folie" a weekly column by Michael Wright, who has moved to live in France and writes about his life in La France Profonde. He writes a really good column about the locality, the people and how he's adapting to it all. Sometimes he brings a tear to my eye, he write so sensitively. He certainly makes me want to go and live in France.............. The high spot of this sojourn was that our friends Angela and Michael came from Cheadle Hulme and took us to their house for a meal. Thank you both, that was brilliant. Angela and I were at school together, so we go back over fifty years, but we'll draw a veil over that...........
6.5 miles
Read about Bugsworth Basin here
Read about Michael Wright in deepest France here
Saturday, 6thJune
OK, we're out of here! We made our way back along the Peak Forest canal to Marple. It's a beautiful canal, we can see The Peak District, the hills rolling away green and inviting, with isolated farms and cottages. There are no locks, just two lift bridges and two swing bridges, and then we were back in Marple. It's a BIG night tonight, for those of us sad people who have been watching "The Apprentice", it's the final.So we have to find somewhere to moor up where we will get good tv reception. We tried one spot, which I thought wasn't too bad but it didn't suit Trev, so we moved on a bit to try elsewhere, and then the heavens opened. We kept on trying here and there and couldn't get in anywhere, because our draught is deep, and we were getting wetter and wetter by the minute. It was like a tropical storm. Eventually we gave up in Marple and turned left onto the Macclesfield Canal and went about a mile out of Marple, and found somewhere where we could a) get in and b) get good tv reception. Hooray! We lit the fire to dry out and yes, we watched "The Apprentice"!
7.5 miles
Sunday, 7th June
Trev walked back to Marple to get us some shopping and then we set off for Higher Poynton, where we're going to have the engine serviced. We filled up with water and bought a new gas cylinder at "The Trading Post" and then were lucky enough to find a mooring.This is a popular spot and boats tend to get left here for rather a long time, which is a polite way of saying that some people tend to overstay the fourteen day mooring limit. Now we're waiting for Charles Mills to come and do our boat service.
2.5 miles