Canals v railways, Old Wolverton

If there ever was an ironical situation in the battle between the British canals and railways, this is it! The photo shows the Loco or Locomotive Hotel or Inn (now the Galleon pub) alongside the Grand Union Canal at Old Wolverton, Milton Keynes. The irony of course, is naming a canalside pub, built to serve the working boatmen, after the very thing that caused the demise of the working canal system in the UK. The reason behind it though, was that Wolverton became the centre for repairs to railway engines for the London to Birmingham railway, and although the Hotel was quite a way from the railway, it was actually quite close to the workshops and sidings. It's nice to see the shape of the pub hasn't changed too much.

Old wolverton, canal and hotel poster by puddled_clay

The area has seen considerable change since the building of the city of Milton Keynes, and one canalside and railway casualty, was just down the canal at Wolverton Station. The building has only in the last few years been completely replaced with a modern station, so apart from the canal itself, little remains from this photo. Probably taken around the 1940s at a guess, the Fellows, Morton and Clayton narrowboat Bison carrying a load of coal in winter on the icy canal below the old signal box with the station in the background, possibly on it's way to Croxley Paper Mills.
The narrowboat has since been restored and converted, and the owners blog gives more history and progress since restoration http://fmcbison.blogspot.co.uk/

FMC Bison in winter Poster by puddled_clay

A sunny week on the Nivernais, part 2

Sunrise at Sauzay

One of the things I like best about canal cruising is the chance to see spectacular sunrises, with a lot of mist. It was barely light when we set off for a 4km walk with the dogs on a deserted towpath below Sauzay lock on the Canal du Nivernais, and the lovely thing about French canals is a towpath both sides. On the Nivernais it's tarmac one side (much loved by cyclists) and grassy farm track the other - but wide - so you can walk up to a bridge, down the other side to the next bridge and back in a round trip.

Les Hâtes de Seia

By the time we reached the location above, the sun had just risen, and we were at a wide part that must have been a halt though I wouldn't trust the depth, at Les Hâtes de Seia (PK 26).

Once it was light enough we set off again. The canal is straighter now that it's left the hills, but the countryside is still rolling, and now and then you can catch a glimpse of the Morvan hills. A few kilometres further on you come to the only lift bridge on this southern part of the canal, the pont-levis du Tremblay, dramatically overlooked by the château of the same name. I believe the wooden bridge was built for the château and recently restored, but it's hard to find out much about it. In the background the Morvan national park is quite clear now, and reminds me just a little of the Llangollen canal - but with less traffic and more châteaux!

The lift bridge and chateau at Tremblay, near Isenay

Roche - ooh look! A boat!

Next comes Cercy-la-Tour where the canal briefly joins the river Aron before turning a very sharp right through an open stop lock, and you're in a pound of nearly 8 km without a lock. The canal gently meanders, sometimes through low hills and sometimes through woodland until you reach the lock and small aqueduct at Roche.

It was about this time that we discovered our fridge wasn't working, it was a gas fridge, and with no instructions we had no idea how to start it. We found out later it was because they'd cut the gas to repair the oven and not reset it!  Somehow a day or two later, by pressing various buttons, it started again.

7 kilometres and two locks later, we found ourselves in the port at St-Léger-des-Vignes (which is not as pretty as it sounds). This is the southernmost point and the next lock takes you into the Loire to crossover to the Canal Latéral à la Loire. By the time we'd moored, next to a much coveted powerpoint, it was getting on for 5.30, and yep, half a mile walk to the Mairie to find it's closed and you can't get a card for power or water. Luckily we met a lovely lady living on a narrowboat who charged our mobile for us.

Port de St Thibault, St-Léger-des-Vignes

 Next morning, another lovely misty sunrise, and walking down to the Loire we were astounded to see a camel across the river. The circus was in town and we found out when we got home that only 5 days previously, a lion had escaped.

Finally, it was time for a leisurely cruise back to base. Although the map says water at Champvert, there was nothing to fit an adapter to, so it was on to Cercy-la-Tour. Negotiating the stop lock was a challenge as most locks have a low bridge on the down side, which means having to get lined up before ducking at the last minute. I'm afraid to say we clipped that one! We made up for it though by perfectly mooring between two boats on the pontoon at Cercy (bowthrusters again) and filling with water. In to the lock, and the lock keeper said she could only allow two boats through, so drove down to the pontoon to interrupt a French group's lunch and commandeered them to go up the lock with us. We tested our speed between 2 kilometre boards before Cercy, and we were just on 8km/hour flat out (the speed limit), however, that didn't stop the French boat tailgaiting us all the way to la Saigne, where we stopped for the night (see pic, part1).

We woke to another lovely sunny morning, with Charolais cows peering through the mist at us, and another very pretty stop. Being well ahead of time, we set off and stopped for a long lunch just before Meulot while the French boat went on. It was so hot by now we had to put the parasol up. Having arranged to get to the next lock at 3pm, we set off as the lock keeper passed going in the opposite direction, so when we got to the lock, there was no one there. That gave me ample time to practise lassoing the bollard, which I managed on third attempt.

Penduline tit

With Chatillon getting ever closer, it was my last chance to get out my zoom lens (a 150-600mm Tamron) and as it's heavy, I lay on the front deck with it, still waiting for a perfect shot of a heron or buzzard, when we saw some little birds in a bush on the bank. My first ever sighting of a penduline tit, though sadly not a brilliant photo.

Then it was through the stop lock at Chatillon, then the final lock (lassoo'd the bollard first time!) and into the base - which was full, so we moored up on the bank after asking a fisherman to move. He wasn't too upset and shared a beer with us later - he'd been there all day and hadn't caught a thing - why do they do it?

A lovely trip, and it's only reinforced our determination to live on a Dutch barge one day, family responsibilities permitting! It's a beautiful canal, though not the place to go if you want a restaurant at every bridge, but we like quiet, and it certainly is that.

The stop lock, Châtillon-en-Bazois

A sunny week on the Nivernais

Ecluse de la Saigne in the early morning

A long time since I've posted on this blog, but we've just returned from a glorious week on the Canal du Nivernais in Burgundy, and what a pretty canal it is. It's a very good time of year to go if the weather's good, as it was. The day we drove home the rain started and hasn't stopped since - I pity the people on the canal this week!
This was the first time on this canal, although we had a drive along it a few years ago, and decided it was a "must do". We picked up the hire boat from the base in Châtillon-en-Bazois, where the castle overlooks the wide basin. Fortunately, as every interesting building in France seems to be covered in scaffolding when I arrive, there was a handy clump of trees in front of the château.

Châtillon-en-Bazois

Although there were only two of us, and two dogs, we hired a Tarpon 37N (9 berth) from Canalous, having been severely lacking in space on a previous trip, and like a lot of hire boats, it was a little tired in places. We'd decided we would go north to Baye and then return and go south towards Decize. We had planned to at least go through the tunnels at Collancelle, but it wasn't to be. After we set off on the Sunday morning, 3kms and 1 lock later I opened the hatch to check on the dogs to be greeted by an alarm - engine temperature - so we called the base who sent out an engineer. The water pump on the engine had lost a fin, so that was a replacement and a few hours lost.

When we started off again, the lock keeper at Mingot, a student holiday stand-in, asked us if we'd like to listen to his music, and of course for entente cordiale's sake we said yes. When the lock was full he picked up his vielle (hurdy gurdy) and gave us three marvelous traditional French folk tunes. A cheerful interlude after an annoying breakdown! He was a skillful player and the instrument was beautiful with hand inlaid mother of pearl. I forgot to take a photo, but here is one I took earlier at a show though it isn't nearly as pretty. It's quite a popular instrument in France and looks quite complicated to play.

A vielle or hurdy gurdy

Moving on, we followed the tree lined canal through the three sets of staircase locks at Mont Marré and Chavagne, then through Bazolles, finally reaching Baye and the lake. I must say at this point, it's the first boat we've ever had with bowthrusters, and even though it feels like cheating, they are a boon when mooring with just a crew of two! The canal is separated from the lake by a rather scary narrow wall with mooring bollards, well, it's scary if you have to walk dogs that have been cooped up for a couple of hours along it. Dogs being dogs, and not terribly well trained ones at that, can be a bit of a handful, and though we planned to walk to the tunnels from there, it was hot and the dogs were pulling, so we walked back through Aqua Fluvial's boatyard, the dogs bravely taking the open mesh walkways on the gates over the lock which leads into the lake in their stride, and back to the boat after Raffles had a plunge in the lake to cool down (a soggy froggy doggy!). It was quite windy though warm, and a couple of people were courageously sailing dinghies on the lake, and one did manage to capsize.

The wall separating the lake from the canal at Baye

Setting off after a moment of relaxation on deck, we headed back South stopping above Bazolles overnight, a pleasant rural stretch surrounded by fields and not much else. Due to foreseen circumstances, we had to be back at the boatyard by Monday evening for a spare part to be fitted to the oven, and to hook up to power. Typical of French canals, it's quite hard to find a power connection - they're either not working, need a card or some such from the mairie which is closed by the time you get there, or everyone else has got there before you and there are no places left. This was the case when we got back to Châtillon, the only available spaces were too far from the power sockets, though we did try draping the power cable over a for sale boat which had been there for some time, it wouldn't quite reach. No matter, the engineer came and fitted the part while I walked the dogs, and we had tartiflette for dinner.

Next morning bright and early, we entered the lock out of the basin at Châtillon with another privately owned boat. We could see that they were concerned about the proximity of our boat to theirs, so we were using the controls to keep away, when suddenly - no forward or reverse! I went to the inside steering position and managed to get us gingerly out of the lock from there, peering through misty windows. We moored up again, still within sight of the hire base this time, so went and gave them the glad tidings. While there, I had time to get out my long lens and caught a black redstart on the fence.

Black redstart

An hour and a half later, the engineer arrived, and this time changed the controls on the bridge, having to cut a chunk out of the boat to do so. The lucky dogs got a second walk while that was happening, and in spite of everything possibly, because of the good weather, we managed to retain our sense of humour.

Making up for lost time again, we pushed on through the winding section until we came to rest below Sauzay lock, operated by a very cheerful lock keeper so he got two bottles of beer instead of the usual one. The whole southern part of this canal is very rural but this part seems particularly isolated - lovely!


To be continued....

Soggy doggy on the sun deck - Ginny and Raffles relaxing

Aylesford, River Medway and Thames barge Onward

Aylesford village and sailing barges

The stern of barge Onward

Along with my love of canals, I also love collecting old postcards and photos. I've never been anywhere near the River Medway, but I came across a magnificent largish vintage glass plate negative by an unknown photographer. It was a bit of a struggle as I had to scan it in two parts, and then several hours of retouching small spots and scratches, but I think it was well worth the effort. The image is of Aylesford village and bridge near Maidstone, Kent, with two Thames sailing barges resting on the mud. It's very detailed as you can see the rigging and pulleys, the name of the nearest barge which is "Onward", the time on the church clock - five past twelve, and even a Fry's chocolate advert in a shop window. There are a couple of empty horse carts on the right hand side, two men sitting under a tree and one working on the boat.

Researching, I've found details of three similar barges called Onward, built between 1867 - 1874, unfortunately I don't know which one it might be, or indeed if it is one entirely different. The earlier two were built in Rochester and Frindsbury, so I think it's quite likely to be one of those.

Leeboard

I only just found out recently that the paddle-shaped bits on the side of the barge are called leeboards, used as stabilisers. They're more common on Dutch barges such as Tjalks - the sort of boat I want to live on one day!
These barges are also called spritsails - the main sail is attached to both the main mast and the angled "sprit" or spar. Wiki link that explains.

This is quite a common view of Aylesford, but possibly the best example that I've seen. I believe it was taken sometime around 1900 judging by the height of the trees and the fact that the bridge doesn't yet have the strengthening ties seen in later photos.

This reproduction is available on a wide range of gifts which would be ideal for sailing barge or social history enthusiasts, from keyrings and postcards to a 36" stretched canvas. See the complete range here.

Crossing the Loire in the 1800s

So with the 'how it started' bit out of the way, I'm going to jump to the present. We've just had a week on the Canal Latéral à la Loire, from Briare to Dompierre. This is a bit of history about the Briare end, but as other people have done much more in depth articles, this is a summary.

Before the Pont-Canal de Briare (the aqueduct) was built, commercial boats had to go from Briare  down the 'parallel to the Loire' canal to les Combles, from there, in low water the boats could be hauled across into a man-made channel running diagonally 1km, to Mantelot. In high water it was a different kettle of fish, as boats had to be hauled 800m up the Loire and then get themselves across to the Mantelot lock by means of anchors. This was not only dangerous but time consuming, taking up to 6 hours just to cross the river, as well as waiting time for a 'slot' or for safe water levels. In 1880, the crossing was made a little easier with the introduction of a steam tug, but there were still long waiting times. With technology improving at last it was decided that an aqueduct could be built to cut out that stage, and it was opened to traffic in 1896. Before this there was an annual average of 10 shipwrecks - I don't know how many lives were lost.
The suspension bridge at Châtillon-sur-Loire is notable as it has a spiral towpath called l'escargot (the snail) on one pillar which allowed the towing power (horses, men) to get to the new towpath level.
Today it's possible to to see the old canal route which runs alongside the new canal for much of the way, and indeed moor above the lock at Mantelot (a lovely little basin if a bit weedy!).

The canal basin at Mantelot

The aqueduct that solved all the heartache:

Pont-canal de Briare

This very ornate structure is often wrongly attributed solely to Gustav Eiffel - although he was responsible for the masonry, the steelwork was completed by the metal construction company Daydé & Pillé, and the chief engineer was Léonce-Abel Mazoyer . There are two very ornate pillars at each end of the channel, and each side lined with lamps. In the picture below the old canal can be seen heading towards les Combles.

An ornate pillar and old canal below

One of the lamps that line both of the towpaths

 More information:
in French: http://www.amis-canal-loire.org/historique.htm
in English: http://structurae.net/structures/combles-lock

On the Llangollen Canal

My road (or waterway) to becoming a canal anorak started in 1970 when my parents suggested a holiday on the Llangollen Canal.
We had a leaky wooden hire boat which dripped water on to the sleeping bags when it rained - which it did - but no matter, I was hooked! Since then I've luckily had several friends with their own boats, and since moving to France ten years ago, I now have a whole new canal system to explore.


The Llangollen is a good starter canal - it has a lot of interest. The scary-for-beginners Grindley Brook staircase locks (we got our feet wet there!), tunnels, aqueducts, lift bridges and beautiful scenery.
One of the highlights for me was the old Montgomery canal arm and the disused Frankton locks. Since then, I've had a complete fascination for old canals.

We went back on foot many years later and already restoration of the lock chambers was underway.

 The 38m high Pontcysyllte aqueduct of course is the most well known.

There was an old chap at the aqueduct who, for a shilling, would tell the story of how the mortar between the stonework was made with ox-blood and lime, and the channel's iron plates sealed with sheep's wool dipped in boiling sugar. Apparently they also had to blindfold the horses to get them along the towpath.  How much of that is true I don't know, but I don't suppose the old chap is there anymore to ask.
The aqueduct is not for those who are scared of heights, as the side away from the towpath seems impossibly close to water level with a severe drop to the river Dee and surrounding fields below.

The lift bridge at Froncysyllte - this has changed a bit since 1970!

So this is the start of my canal journeys, my only regret for past-visited canals is not having had a good camera (or a good camera operator!) and not taking enough photos.