CanalPlanAC's collection of waterways quotations
Know Your Waterways by Robert Aickman
The waterways are charged with magic, but nothing about them is more magical than the difference made by the few feet of water which separate the boat from the land. Those few feet instantly set the boatman in a world of his own, and his vision of the outer world though which he glides, becomes magically calmer and clearer. Again, this may sound whimsical and improbable: the degree to which it is true can be confirmed only by experience. (1955)
The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan
Yet my great-grandfather was but a water-man, looking one way, and rowing another: and I got most of my estate by the same occupation. (1678)
A Shropshire Lad by John Betjeman
When Captain Webb the Dawley man,
Captain Webb from Dawley,
Came swimming along the old canal
That carried the bricks to
Lawley,
Swimming along, swimming along,
Swimming along
from Severn (1940)
The List of Seven by Mark Frost
The river conveyed them uneventfully through the night, past Halstead and Rose Green, Wakes Colne and Eight Ash, wending through the knotty sprawl of ancient Colchester near dawn and then down past Wivenhoe, where the river widened out, preparing to meet the sea. Although they passed a number of barges and other small ships at anchor during the night, here they began to encounter for the first time larger vessels under steam. (1993)
A Caravan Afloat by C.J. Aubertin
I don't think you would know the boat - it is so homely and comfortable - seven beer bottles on the side table at present waiting to be thrown away. (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C.J. Aubertin
The foregoing pages have dealt with canals as a playground. Needless to say, however, this is not their true vocation. They should be - and are capable of being made - great arteries of national traffic. (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C.J. Aubertin
By and by, when times change again, I suspect that the sweetness of the Thames Valley will begin to cloy; the old Wander-lust will return, and we shall fare forth again to make our nightly camp under the stars in regions to which our bows have not yet turned (1916, final lines)
Narrow Boat by L.T.C. Rolt
But, if the canals are left to the mercies of economists and scientific planners, before many years are past the last of them will become a weedy stagnant ditch, and the bright boats will rot at the wharves, to live on only in old men's memories. It is because I fear that this may happen that I have made this record of them. (1944)
The Worst Journey in the Midlands by Sam Llewellyn
The climb out of the Avon valley means more locks. There are compensations however; you are getting away from Leamington Spa, for one thing. (1983)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
It is one of the phenomena of the inland waterways that you can go for hours without meeting another boat, then will encounter one on the sharpest and nastiest bend in the system. (1971)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
We got the tyre off by restarting the engine, then tentatively letting in the clutch. Eventually a lucky pull from the boathook flipped the propeller free and we proceeded into the Stygian gloom of night-time Banbury. We passed through the next lock, negotiated the spiked gate and moored at Tooley's yard for the night. A motion that the tyre be wrapped up and sent to Banbury Town Hall was passed unanimously and promptly forgotten about. (1971)
Thanksgiving for a Habitat VIII - Grub First, Then Ethics by W.H. Auden
A poet may lament - 'where is Telford
whose bridged
canals are still a Shropshire glory?' (1958)
Number One! by Tom Foxton
To those of us whose business was on inland waterways, it seemed inconceivable that the trade should ever cease. Small carriers might go out of business, a few outlying sections of canal might lose their trade, but to imagine that the great canalside power stations served by fleets of boats should ever close, that the paddles on "The Junction" might one day fall silent, or the water of the Wyrley & Essington become deserted and weedy, was wholly beyond our imagination. (1991, describing the mid 1950s)
Number One! by Tom Foxton
We may suceed in preserving the canals themselves as strips of water, but we seem intent on destroying everything that gave them interest and meaning, creating instead a Disneyland in which Roses and Castles feature prominently but shafts and shovels do not. (1991 )
Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson
Manchester doesn't seem to have a very clear image of itself. 'Shaping Tomorrow's City Today' is the official local motto, but in fact Manchester seems decidedly of two minds about its place in the world. At Castlefield, they were busy creating yesterday's city today, cleaning up the old brick viaducts and warehouses, recobbling the quaysides, putting fresh coats of glossy paint on the old arched footbridges and scattering about a generous assortment of old-fashioned benches, bollards and lampposts. By the time they have finished, you will be able to see exactly what life was like in nineteenth century Manchester - or at least what it would be like if they had wine-bars, and cast-iron litter bins and directional signs for heritage trails and the G-Mex Centre. (1996)
Horae Canonicae V - Vespers by W.H.Auden
I have only to close my eyes, cross the iron footbridge to the tow-path, take the barge through the short brick tunnel and there I stand in Eden again (1954)
Painting the Boat by A.P. Herbert
There is paint in my ears and in my hair. I have a fear that one morning I shall wake and find that the family have painted the anchor. Last night I dreamed that I had painted the carburettor. I smell of turpentine. There is paint in the bathroom and paint on the drawingroom chairs; and all the family have chilblains. Never mind. We have painted the boat. (In Mild and Bitter, 1936)
Housework by A.P. Herbert
Do not write to me and say that Mr. Conrad did not approve the expression 'casting anchor'. Mr. Conrad travelled in big ships, where somebody said 'Let go!' and the anchor was then dropped. If any one said 'Let go!' in my ship nothing would happen. I have to go forward myself, pick the anchor up, and throw, fling, or cast it over the side. The expression, in this queer vessel, is correct. (In Mild and Bitter, 1936)
I'd Go Back Tomorrow by Mike Lucas
Gradually the pubs have either closed or been "modernised", which means making them open-plan, removing all the character of the pub and replacing it with "stylish decor", and turning the back parlour into a restaurant. Economic necessity has demanded this in some cases, but often it is a result of a survey which has been carried out by a brewery or pub company. This, apparently, tells them that we all want to eat in plastic palaces from an identical menu where even the number of chips and peas on a plate can be guaranteed, and we certainly don't want proper local pubs serving a good selection of real ale, hearty home-cooked food and an atmosphere conducive to live music, darts, dommies and conversation. (2001)
Four Quartets - The Dry Salvages by T.S.Eliot
I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river
Is
a strong brown god - sullen, untamed and intractable,
Patient
to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier;
Useful,
untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce;
Then only a problem
confronting the builder of bridges.
The problem once solved,
the brown god is almost forgotten
By the dwellers in cities -
ever, however, implacable,
Keeping his seasons and rages,
destroyer, reminder
Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured,
unpropitiated
By worshippers of the machine, but waiting,
watching and waiting.
(1944)
The Question by A.P.Herbert
You cannot suddenly, out of the blue, ask the Chancellor of the
Exchequer:
"Whether he is aware that a small boy of repulsive
appearance threw a stone the size of a duck's egg at the
passengers in Mr. Haddock's boat proceeding under Lambeth
Bridge on July 4th last, and nearly killed a lady-mariner, and what
does he propose to do about it?"
For the Chancellor of the Exchequer is not responsible for small boys or Lambeth Bridge. (In Sip! Swallow!, 1937)
The Flower of Gloster by E. Temple Thurston
What is more, these people are lovers of brass — a sure sign of the gypsy. Inside many a cabin of the boats which ply their long journeys and are the only homes of those who work them, you will find the old brass candlesticks, brass pots and pans, all brilliantly polished, glittering in the light. A brass lamp hangs from the bulkhead. It does not swing, for the motion of these barges is like to no other vehicle in which I have ever ridden. It is no motion, or it is motion asleep. (1911)
The Ebony Box by Mrs Henry Wood
Passing down Broad Street towards the bridge, he turned to the left and sauntered along beside the Severn. The water glittered in the light of the setting sun; barges, some of them bearing men and women and children, passed smoothly up and down on it; the opposite fields, towards St. John's, were green as an emerald; all things seemed to wear an aspect of brightness. (1890)
A Tour thro' the Whole Island of Great Britain, divided into Circuits or Journies by Daniel Defoe
I chose to give it the title of circuits, in the plural, because I do not pretend to have travelled it all in one journey, but in many, and some of them many times over; the better to inform myself of every thing I could find worth taking notice of. (1724)
England is Rich by Harry Hopkins
The ''Parrot'' began to move away from the wharf, nosing out into the inky waters, past Mrs Shore's ''Aberlystwyth'', with the washing fluttering from the line, answering the tiller, pointing its long, narrow shape straight down the canal.
The blank sides of great factories stared down on us, walling us in. Sometimes there was faded lettering on their sides to give a clue to their contents: Compressors . . . Tubes . . . Tangye's Cornwall Works. It was an uncanny sensation. We were passing through the heart of a great city. Yet one had an oddly isolated, almost disembodied, feeling as we chugged steadily on through the black, still water, our engine echoing hollowly under the old cast-iron bridges. (1957)
England is Rich by Harry Hopkins
And there was the vale of Evesham, the whole vale, lying at my feet like a Promised Land - a vast green plain, soft and warmly sunlit, dotted with villages that clustered around square stone towers, flecked with the lighter green where the willows traced the meanderings of the Avon. (1957)
England is Rich by Harry Hopkins
I was running down that long, narrow, busy main street to the great Avon bridge in Evesham. And there it was, just as I had imagined it, the placid river, swinging round into the great bend that contains the town, the swans, the white boathouse, and, then, on the other side - through the high riverside curtain of limes - the Bell Tower of the old Abbey. (1957)
England is Rich by Harry Hopkins
It seemed hard to believe - yet there were old people in Evesham who could still recall the days when barges of coal and corn had come into the town by the river. But since then the Avon, like so many once thriving waterways of England had fallen into decay. Debris choked its course. Its wiers were broken down. The locks had silted up or caved in from neglect.
But "Save the Avon" appeals had gone up on Evesham walls. A number of Birmingham Businessmen had got together to form the "Lower Avon Navigation Trust" with the object of reopening the river from the Severn up to Evesham. At Chadbury a party of young Royal Engineers from a neighbouring camp were rebuilding the first lock down the river from Evesham. (1957)
England is Rich by Harry Hopkins
She and Tom Shackleton had been travelling up and down the canals of England almost as long as they could remember. Both of their fathers had been boatmen; for that was the way it was on the canals and that was the way it had to be; this was a world, a whole world of its own, a world you had to be born to, which was neither of the town nor of the country, of the past nor yet of the present, a timeless world, without newspapers, without the cold war, or television, or all the familiar furniture the rest of us knew; yet a world peopled by its own rich personalities, whose news drifted in shouts from the backs of passing boats, a world of busy movement too, not at jet-age speed but at a speed the human heart could compass (1957)
An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson
Of all the creatures of commercial enterprise, a canal barge is by far the most delightful to consider. It may spread its sails, and then you see it sailing high above the tree-tops and the wind-mill, sailing on the aqueduct, sailing through the green cornlands; the most picturesque of things amphibious. Or the horse plods along at a foot-pace as if there were no such things as business in the world; and the man dreaming at the tiller sees the same spire on the horizon all day long. It is a mystery how things ever get to their destination at this rate; and to see the barges waiting their turn at a lock, affords a fine lession in how easily the world may be taken. There should be many contented spirits on board, for such a life is both to travel and to stay at home. (1878)
An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson
The chimney smokes for dinner as you go along; the banks of the canal slowly unroll their scenery to contemplative eyes; the barge floats by great forests and through great cities with their public buildings and their lamps at night; and for the bargee, in his floating home, "travelling abed," it is merely as if he were listening to another man's story or turning the leaves of a picture book in which he had no concern. He may take his afternoon walk in some foreign country on the banks of the canal, and then come home to dinner at his own fireside. (1878)
An Inland Voyage by Robert Louis Stevenson
I am sure that I would rather be a bargee than occupy any position under Heaven that required attendance at an office. There are few callings, I should say, where a man gives up less of his liberty in return for regular meals. The bargee is on shipboard - he is master of his own ship - he can land whenever he will - he can never be kept beating off a leeshore a whole frosty night when the sheets are as hard as iron; and so far as I can make out, time stands as nearly still with him as is compatible with the return of bed-time or dinner-hour. It is not easy to see why a bargee should ever die. (1878)
The Ship That Found Herself by Rudyard Kipling
There's nothing so contagious in a boat as rivets going (1898)
The Sea and the Wind that Blows by E. B. White
If a man must be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most. ()
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Some people are under the impression that all that is required to make a good fisherman is the ability to tell lies easily and without blushing; but this is a mistake. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We had come out for a fortnight's enjoyment on the river, and a fortnight's enjoyment on the river we meant to have. If it killed us! well, that would be a sad thing for our friends and relations, but it could not be helped. (1889)
Boatbuilding with Steel by Gilbert C Klingel
Few objects, in this mechanised modern world, instil in their owners as much concern and love as their boats. (1978)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. (1908)
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
The sea-reach of the Thames streched before us like the beginning of an interminable waterway. In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand still in red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished spirits. (1903)
Rosencrantz and Guildernstern are Dead by Tom Stoppard
Rosencrantz: Do you think death could possibly be a boat?
Guildenstern: No, no, no... Death is...not. Death
isn't. You take my meaning. Death is the ultimate negative.
Not-being. You can't not-be on a boat.
Rosencrantz: I've frequently not been on boats.
Guildenstern: No, no, no - what you've been is not on
boats. (1966)
You've Got Mail (film script) by Nora and Delia Ephron
There're all these people who wouldn't be caught dead polishing a doorknob in their house but put them on a boat and they want to rub down everything in sight. ()
possible apocryphal by attributed to Mark Twain
Twenty Years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bow lines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the tradewinds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. ()
The Cruise of The Snark by Jack London
The acquisition of the knowledge of navigation has a strange effect on the minds of men. (1913)
Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare
The barge she sat in, like a burnishd throne, burnd on the water; the poop was beaten gold, purple the sails, and so perfumed, that the winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made the water which they beat to follow faster, as amorous of their strokes. For her own person, it beggard all description. (c1607)
The Wigan Observer by Editorial
Under the heading "A Wigan Fairy Tale" a writer in the Manchester Guardian Miscellany column tells us that "Wigan Pier" is to be dismantled. That is rather like announcing that four o'clock tomorrow afternoon is to be thoroughly overhauled and painted green.
What do they know of Wigan Pier who say it can be dismantled? You might as well talk about spring cleaning a rainbow or arresting the Wandering Jew for loitering without visible means of support.
Wigan Pier is a deathless resident in the realm of original ideas - it abuts on the infinite and not on any mere material canal.
Let Wigan do what it likes with the iron structure that many people regard as the pier. The true, trancendental Wigan Pier of a thousand music hall nights is imperishable. (Saturday 14 December 1929)
Death in the Thames by J. R. L. Anderson
The river wound and gleamed ahead, each new reach opening a new vista of green-and-gold willows and green water meadows, the general scene pleasantly unchanging, but each new reach always subtly different from the one before it. (1974)
The African Queen (film script) by James Agee and John Huston
I don't wonder you love boating Mr Allnut (1951)
Fruit Flies Like a Banana by Steve Haywood
One thing I've learnt subsequently about canal people is that on the whole they are some of the friendliest and most laid-back you'll meet anywhere in the world. Perhaps it's something to do with the pace of life on a canal, for at three miles an hour, life's boy racers hardly gravitiate towards narrowboats for their kicks. Or maybe it's something to do with the ambience which surrounds these quiet byways threading through the countryside, for there's something about water — any water — which seems to act like a sedative, making people calmer and quieter, and on the whole more considerate and forgiving than totally land-centred people. (2004)
Fruit Flies Like a Banana by Steve Haywood
In the early 1970s you were part of a secret, undiscovered world which was of the present, yet separate from it. The canals then were winding, overgrown ribbons of water which took you across aqueducts and embankments, and through cuttings and bat-filled tunnels to a world that seemed unchanged for centuries. Or they were black inacessible ditches tucked away behind factories and leading to the dark, oily recesses of cities unfamiliar even to the people who lived in them. (2004)
The Old Canal, from More Green Fingers by Reginald Arkell
The old canal, from bank to bank,
Is filled with reeds and
rushes rank;
And down this lane of living green
March
memories of what has been.
The painted barges came from town,
And busy life flowed up
and down;
But there is nothing left to show
Where those
old barges used to go.
Progress is always marching on;
The old canal is dead and
gone,
But still we seem to hear it say:
"I, too,
was progress–yesterday." (1938)
The Keys to the Street by Ruth Rendell
In the dark canal a full moon was reflected, like a round white light under the water. Trees trailed thin branches across its surface as if to catch the moon in their net. It could have been some broad sluggish river they sat beside, with dense vegetation growing down to its banks, a mass of complex leafiness that might have stretched, for all that could be seen, back across the city for miles, covering buildings in a dark wilderness. (1997)
BBC radio broadcast by George Orwell
At one time on one of the little muddy canals that run round the town, there used to be a tumble-down wooden jetty; and by way of a joke someone nicknamed this Wigan Pier. ...to judge from the photographs it must have been about twenty feet long. ...I made a journey specially to see it in 1936, and I couldn't find it. ...I am afraid I must tell you that Wigan Pier doesn't exist. ...the place itself had been demolished. (2 December 1943)
The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens
The boat came close to the bank again, and before she had had any more time for consideration, she and her grandfather were on board, and gliding smoothly down the canal. The sun shone pleasantly on the bright water, which was sometimes shaded by trees, and sometimes open to a wide extent of country, intersected by running streams, and rich with wooded hills, cultivated land, and sheltered farms. Now and then, a village with its modest spire, thatched roofs, and gable-ends, would peep out from among the trees; and, more than once, a distant town, with great church towers looming through its smoke, and high factories or workshops rising above the mass of houses, would come in view, and, by the length of time it lingered in the distance, show them how slowly they travelled. Their way lay, for the most part, through the low grounds, and open plains; and except these distant places, and occasionally some men working in the fields, or lounging on the bridges under which they passed, to see them creep along, nothing encroached on their monotonous and secluded track. (1841)
Song "The Bargemaster" from "Chigley" by Gordon Murray and Freddie Phillips
Chugging along between banks of green willow,
Buttercup
meadows, sweet nettle and dock,
Sheep in the meadow so peaceful
and still-o,
And just 'round the bend we reach
Camberwick Lock.
Nothing is better than being at large
In
charge of a gay inland waterway barge
The sun on the water is glinting and gleaming
Soon we are
leaving the Camberwick Lock
Pass by the anglers all drowsily
dreaming
And far in the distance chimes Trumpton town clock
Nothing is better than being at large
In charge of a gay
inland waterway barge
(1969)
Interview on CNBC by George W Bush
One of the things I've used on the Google is to pull up maps. It's very interesting to see - I've forgot the name of the program - but you get the satellite, and you can - like, I kinda like to look at the ranch. It remind me of where I wanna be sometimes. (23 October 2006)
The Times by Ben Macintyre
The survival and revival of the canal is a reflection of its enduring place in British culture: a strange admixture of commerce and pleasure, history and modern development, back-breaking labour and reflective leisure. Canals always mattered more than the money they made.
In an age of dirt and speed, the canal is not only a vital artefact, but a form of therapy. Puttering along a man-made ditch seems a peculiar form of relaxation, but once one has seen Britain passing slowly and serenely at eye level, it is impossible to see it in the same way again. (1 June 2007)
Twitter by Victoria Coren
"knits jumpers for battery hens"; "has created a computer programme of English canal routes" - it can only be Only Connect (05/10/2011 01:23)
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
For about seven or eight years the little tavern had been kept by a man and his wife, with two servants, -a chambermaid named Trinette, and a hostler called Pecaud. This small staff was quite equal to all the requirements, for a canal between Beaucaire and Aiguemortes had revolutionized transportation by substituting boats for the cart and the stagecoach. And, as though to add to the daily misery which this prosperous canal inflicted on the unfortunate inn-keeper, whose utter ruin it was fast accomplishing, it was situated between the Rhone from which it had its source and the post-road it had depleted, not a hundred steps from the inn, of which we have given a brief but faithful description. (1844)
The Pit Prop Syndicate by Freeman Wills Crofts
“But,” he said to Hilliard, “I am afraid you are in error in coming up this River Lesque. The canal you want to get from here is the Midi, it enters the Mediterranean not far from Narbonne. But the connection from this side is from the Garonne. You should have gone up—stream to Langon, nearly forty miles above Bordeaux.”
“We had hoped to go from still farther south,” Hilliard answered. “We have penetrated a good many of the rivers, or rather I have, and we came up here to see the sand—dunes and forests of the Landes, which are new to me. (1922)
The Pit Prop Syndicate by Freeman Wills Crofts
"Hilliard and I are on a motor launch tour across France," Merriman went on. "He worked from England down the coast to Bordeaux, where I joined him, and we hope eventually to cross the country to the Mediterranean and do the Riviera from the sea."
"How perfectly delightful," Miss Coburn replied. "I envy you."
"Yes, it's very jolly doing these rivers and canals," Hilliard interposed. "I have spent two or three holidays that way now, and it has always been worth while." (1922)
The Shadow of The Wolf by R Austin Freeman
"He is very partial to the Eastern Counties, especially the Broads and rivers of Norfolk. You remember he was on his way to Oulton Broad when he disappeared?"
"Yes; and one must admit that the waterways of Norfolk and Suffolk, with all their endless communications, would form an admirable hiding-place. In a small yacht or covered boat a man might lose himself in that network of rivers and lakes and lie hidden for months, creeping from end to end of the county without leaving a trace." (1925)
The Eye of Osiris by R Austin Freeman
I strolled down to the Embankment, and, leaning on the parapet, contemplated the view across the river; the grey stone bridge with its perspective of arches, the picturesque pile of the shot-towers, and beyond, the shadowy shapes of the Abbey and St. Stephen's.
It was a pleasant scene, restful and quiet, with a touch of life and a hint of sober romance, when a barge swept down through the middle arch of the bridge with a lugsail hoisted to a jury mast and a white-aproned woman at the tiller. Dreamily I watched the craft creep by upon the moving tide, noted the low freeboard, almost awash, the careful helmswoman, and the dog on the forecastle yapping at the distant shore (1911)
The D'Arblay Mystery by R Austin Freeman
I walked slowly up the street looking for number 23—my patient's number—and the canal which I had seen on the map. I located them both at the same instant, for number 23 turned out to be the last house on the opposite side, and a few yards beyond it the street was barred by a low wall, over which, as I looked, the mast of a sailing-barge came into view and slowly crept past. I stepped up to the wall and looked over. Immediately beneath me was the towing-path, alongside which the barge was now bringing up and beginning to lower her mast, apparently to pass under a bridge that spanned the canal a couple of hundred yards farther along. (1926)
The D'Arblay Mystery by R Austin Freeman
I looked out of the window, which commanded a partial view of the canal. The moon had now risen and its light fell on the white-painted hull of the Dutch sloop, which had come to rest and made fast alongside a small wharf. It was quite a pleasant picture, strangely at variance with the squalid neighbourhood around. As I looked down on the little vessel, with the ruddy light glowing from the deck-house windows and casting shimmering reflections in the quiet water, the sight seemed to carry me far away from the sordid streets around into the fellowship of the breezy ocean and the far-away shores whence the little craft had sailed, and I determined, as soon as our business was finished, to seek some access to the canal and indulge myself with a quiet stroll in the moonlight along the deserted towing-path. (1925)
Private Eye by Issue 1318
never mind that towpaths have been on Ordnance Survey maps, and online service OS getamap, for years, as well as on specialist map sites like canalplan and walkit" (July 2012)
The Ionian Mission by Patrick O'Brian
'But at all events, on his return he found that the projector, the thaumaturge, had plunged into wild expense, carrying out vast operations, even digging the traditional canal.' 'Yes, yes, of course, the canal,' said Sir Joseph, and Stephen, seeing the knowing look in his eye, said, 'It would be idle to pretend that I am not speaking of Jack Aubrey. I dare say you have seen the monstrous ditch in Hampshire?' 'I have, indeed,' said Sir Joseph. 'It has caused a deal of comment. (1981)
The Fifth Elephant by Terry Pratchett
On a clear day, from the right vantage point on the Ramtops, a watcher could see a very long way across the plains. The dwarfs had harnessed mountain streams and built a staircase of locks that rose a mile up from the rolling grasslands, for the use of which they charged not just a pretty penny but a very handsome dollar. Barges were always ascending or descending, making their way down to the river Smarl and the cities of the plain. They carried coal, iron, fireclay, pig treacle and fat, the dull ingredients of the pudding of civilization. In the sharp, thin air they took several days to get out of sight. On a clear day, you could see next Wednesday. The captain of one of the barges waiting for the top lock went to tip the dregs of his teapot over the side and saw a small dog sitting on the snowy bank. It sat up and begged, hopefully. (1999)
The Wrong Box by Lloyd Osbourne and Robert Louis Stevenson
Providence dispatched into these waters a steam-launch asthmatically panting up the Thames. All along the banks the water swelled and fell, and the reeds rustled. The houseboat itself, that ancient stationary creature, became suddenly imbued with life, and rolled briskly at her moorings, like a sea-going ship when she begins to smell the harbour bar. The wash had nearly died away, and the quick panting of the launch sounded already faint and far off, when Gideon was startled by a cry from Julia. (1889)
True Tilda by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
His next business was to fetch a horse from the stables at the Canal End and tow the boat back to her quarters; and having taken another glance around, he set off and up the towpath at a pretty brisk pace. It would be five o'clock before he finished his work. (1909)
True Tilda by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
Canal End Basin lay hard upon three-quarters of a mile up stream, and about half that distance beyond the bend of the Great Brewery—a malodorous pool packed with narrow barges or monkey-boats—a few loading leisurably, the rest moored in tiers awaiting their cargoes. They belonged to many owners, but their type was well nigh uniform. Each measured seventy feet in length, or a trifle over, with a beam of about seven; each was built with rounded bilges, and would carry from twenty-five to thirty tons of cargo; each provided, aft of its hold or cargo-well, a small cabin for the accommodation of its crew by day; and for five-sixths of its length each was black as a gondola of Venice. Only, where the business part of the boat ended and its cabin began, a painted ribbon of curious pattern ornamented the gunwale, and terminated in two pictured stern-panels. Wharves and storehouses surrounded the basin, or rather enclosed three sides of it, and looked upon the water across a dead avenue (so to speak) of cranes and bollards; buildings of exceedingly various height and construction, some tiled, others roofed with galvanised iron. Almost every one proclaimed on its front, for the information of the stranger, its owner's name and what he traded in; and the stranger, while making his choice between these announcements, had ample time to contrast their diversity of size and style with the sober uniformity that prevailed afloat. (1909)
True Tilda by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
Two hours later, as the Brewery clock struck eleven, a canal-boat, towed by a glimmering grey horse, glided southward under the shadow of the Orphanage wall. It passed this and the iron bridge, and pursued its way through the dark purlieus of Bursfield towards the open country. Its rate of progression was steady, and a trifle under three miles an hour. (1909)
True Tilda by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
But about that swan — Mortimer must 'a-been talkin' through his hat. Why to get to the Thames that bird'd have to go up the Stratford-on-Avon to Kingswood cut, down the Warwick an' Birmingham to Budbrooke—with a trifle o' twenty-one locks at Hatton to be worked or walked round; cross by the Warwick an' Napton — another twenty-two locks; an' all the way down the Oxford Canal, which from Napton is fifty miles good. (1909)
True Tilda by Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
And as for dawdlin', why if you understood about canals you'd know there's times when dawdlin' makes the best speed. (1909)
The Riddle of the Sands by Erskine Childers
'We had a splendid sail to the East Scheldt, but then, like fools, decided to go through Holland by canal and river. It was good fun enough navigating the estuary — the tides and banks there are appalling — but farther inland it was a wretched business, nothing but paying lock-dues, bumping against schuyts, and towing down stinking canals. Never a peaceful night like this — always moored by some quay or tow-path, with people passing and boys. Heavens! shall I ever forget those boys! A perfect murrain of them infests Holland; they seem to have nothing in the world to do but throw stones and mud at foreign yachts.' (1903)
The Riddle of the Sands by Erskine Childers
The exact arrangement made on the day before the fatal voyage was that the two yachts should meet in the evening at Cuxhaven and proceed up the river together. Then, in the ordinary course, Davies would have parted company at Brunsbüttel (fifteen miles up), which is the western terminus of the ship canal to the Baltic. (1903)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
To anyone who is capable of appreciating the beauties of Nature in the slightest degree, there must be something soothing and elevating in constantly being brought face to face with Nature in all her varying charms. Now gliding calmly past a water-side village, with the children running out to give you a greeting; then through a waving, poppy-starred cornfield, or past low-lying meadows, with the meditative cattle standing knee-deep in the sweet pasturage, and anon a bend in the canal carries you past wood-lands where the trees meet overhead and form a cool canopy through which the rays of the sun can only penetrate here and there in slanting beams (1899)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We next reached Harecastle, in Cheshire, where we landed for lunch. Re-starting, after doing justice to a good feed, we soon encountered a cluster of thirty-five locks (think of it) all grouped together within a distance of six miles. Finding the negotiating of two or three a weariness of the flesh, we cast around for help, and fortunately came across a "locked-out" coal-miner, who for two shillings cheerfully trotted on ahead, and opened each of the remaining locks ready for us by the time we arrived, thus giving us a welcome rest after a spell of hard work (1899)
The Mystery of Dr Fu Manchu by Sax Rohmer
With her crew of three, the party numbered seven that swung out into the Pool, and, clearing the pier, drew in again and hugged the murky shore. The night had been clear enough hitherto, but now came scudding rainbanks to curtain the crescent moon, and anon to unveil her again and show the muddy swirls about us. The view was not extensive from the launch. Sometimes a deepening of the near shadows would tell of a moored barge, or lights high above our heads mark the deck of a large vessel. In the floods of moonlight gaunt shapes towered above; in the ensuing darkness only the oily glitter of the tide occupied the foreground of the night-piece. The Surrey shore was a broken wall of blackness, patched with lights about which moved hazy suggestions of human activity. The bank we were following offered a prospect even more gloomy—a dense, dark mass, amid which, sometimes, mysterious half-tones told of a dock gate, or sudden high lights leapt flaring to the eye. Then, out of the mystery ahead, a green light grew and crept down upon us. A giant shape loomed up, and frowned crushingly upon the little craft. A blaze of light, the jangle of a bell, and it was past. We were dancing in the wash of one of the Scotch steamers, and the murk had fallen again. Discords of remote activity rose above the more intimate throbbing of our screw, and we seemed a pigmy company floating past the workshops of Brobdingnagian toilers. The chill of the near water communicated itself to me, and I felt the protection of my shabby garments inadequate against it. (1913)
Turn Coat by Jim Butcher
I navigated. Sheesh, listen to me, “navigated.” The boat had a steering wheel and a lever to make it go faster. It was about as complicated to make move as a bumper car. Granted, simple isn’t the same thing as easy, but even so. The actual process of pointing the boat and making it go is not complicated enough to deserve to be called navigation.
Moving a boat using forward and reverse gears and a steering mechanism is simply helming. Navigating is much more. Choosing, planning and understanding the journey with all its limits dangers and good bits.Then completing safely. (2009)
Rudder Grange by Frank Richard Stockton
When we had finished our supper and had paid for it, and were going down to take our little boat again,—for we had rowed up the river,—Euphemia stopped and looked around her. Then she clasped her hands and exclaimed in an ecstatic undertone: "We must have a canal-boat!" And she never swerved from that determination. (1879)
Rudder Grange by Frank Richard Stockton
I was rapidly becoming frantic when I met a person who hailed me. "Hello!" he said, "are you after a canal-boat adrift?" "Yes," I panted. "I thought you was," he said. "You looked that way. Well, I can tell you where she is. She's stuck fast in the reeds at the lower end o' Peter's Pint." "Where's that?" said I. "Oh, it's about a mile furder up. I seed her a-driftin' up with the tide—big flood tide, to-day—and I thought I'd see somebody after her, afore long. Anything aboard?" (1879)
Rudder Grange by Frank Richard Stockton
But it was of no use getting angry with Waterford, especially as I saw he intended walking all the way down to the ferry with me, so I told him I didn't live in any house at all. "Why, where DO you live?" he exclaimed, stopping short. "I live in a boat," said I. "A boat! A sort of 'Rob Roy' arrangement, I suppose. Well, I would not have thought that of you. And your wife, I suppose, has gone home to her people?" "She has done nothing of the kind," I answered. "She lives with me, and she likes it very much. We are extremely comfortable, and our boat is not a canoe, or any such nonsensical affair. It is a large, commodious canal-boat." Waterford turned around and looked at me. "Are you a deck-hand?" he asked. "Deck-grandmother!" I exclaimed. "Well, you needn't get mad about it," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings; but I couldn't see what else you could be on a canal-boat. I don't suppose, for instance, that you're captain." "But I am," said I. (1879)
The Slowcoach by E. V. Lucas
Bidford is not drunken now; it is only sleepy: a long steep street, with, at the top, the church and a beautiful old house, now cottages, once the Falcon Inn, where Shakespeare used to drink, and where the chair came from that they had seen at the birthplace yesterday; and at the foot the Swan Inn and the old bridge. Bidford is built very like a wateringplace—that is to say, it is all on one side of the river. The water to-day looked very tempting, especially as a great number of boats were lying on it waiting to be hired; but Robert sternly ordered his party onwards. (1908)
The Slowcoach by E. V. Lucas
And so Moses (with a beautiful new shoe) was put into the shafts again, and they went gently over the soft green meadows to the weir, and there they had their supper, and explored the mill and the shaggy wood overhanging it, and rowed a little in a very safe boat, and stood on the little bridges, and watched the rushing water, and then walked slowly beside the still stream higher up as the light began to fade, and surprised the water-rats feeding or gossiping on the banks—none of which things could they have done had Moses had the poor sense to retain his near fore-shoe. (1908)
The Slowcoach by E. V. Lucas
Robert had been rightly told about the summit of Bredon Hill, for there the grass is as short as on the South Downs, and there is a deep fosse in which to shelter from the wind. The hill at this western point ends suddenly, at a kind of precipice, and you look right over the valley of the Avon and the Severn to the Malverns. Just below on the south-west is Tewkesbury, where the Severn and the Avon meet, after that becoming the Severn only all the way to Bristol and the sea. In the far south-west rises the point of the Sugar Loaf at Abergavenny, and the blue distance is Wales—the country of King Arthur and Malory. To the north-west is the smoke of Worcester, and immediately beneath the hill, winding shiningly about, is the Avon, running by Bredon village and the Combertons and Pershore, past Cropthorne (where Mr. MacAngus was perhaps even now painting) and Wood Norton (where the Duke of Orleans, who ought, Hester held, to be King of France to-day, lives) to Evesham, and the weir where they had rowed about, and so on to Stratford. Robert's maps, fortified by what he had picked up from the old man last night, told them all these things, and told them also, more or less, what the "coloured counties" were that they could see; for of course Mary wanted to know that: Warwickshire, Gloucestershire, Oxfordshire, Worcestershire, Herefordshire, Monmouthshire. (1908)
The Slowcoach by E. V. Lucas
On the other side of Cirencester is a very beautiful park, with a broad avenue through it from the gates right in the town itself. The farmer's wife had told them of its attractions, and also of a ruined house known as Alfred's Hall, and a point called the Seven Ways where seven green avenues met, and a canal that ran through a tunnel, and, all within the possibilities of good walkers, the source of the Thames itself (1908)
The Devil Doctor by Sax Rohmer
I could hear the tide, lapping upon the wharf, could feel the chill from the river and hear the vague noises which, night nor day, never cease upon the great commercial waterway. (1916)
The Fifth Elephant by Terry Pratchett
Eventually they stopped at the edge of a canal, its waters lapping in the darkness. A small boat was tethered there, with a waiting guard. Dee urged them into it. There was a clink in the gloom, and then a lamp was lit. The guard was punting the boat under an arch and into a small lake. Apart from the tunnel entrance, the walls rose up sheer. ‘Are we at the bottom of a well?’ said Vimes. 'That is quite a good way of describing it.’ Dee fished under his seat. He produced a curved metal horn and blew one note which echoed up the rock walls. After a few seconds another note floated down from the top. There was a clanking, as of heavy ancient chains. 'This is quite a short lift compared to some in the mountains,’ said Dee, as an iron plate ground across the entrance, sealing it. ‘There’s one half a mile high that will take a string of barges.’ Water boiled beside the boat. Vimes saw the walls begin to sink. Now the boat was rocking in the bubbling water and the walls were blurred. ‘Water is diverted into reservoirs up near the peaks. Then it is simply a matter of opening and closing sluices, you see?’ ‘Yes,’ mumbled Vimes, experiencing vertigo and seasickness in one tight green package. The walls slowed. The boat stopped shaking. The water lifted them smoothly over the lip of the well and into a little channel, where there was a dock. (1999)
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
Down the swift dark stream you go
Back to lands you once
did know!
Leave the halls and caverns deep,
Leave the
northern mountains steep,
Where the forest wide and dim
Stoops in shadow grey and grim!
Float beyond the world of
trees
Out into the whispering breeze,
Past the rushes,
past the reeds,
Past the marsh's waving weeds,
Through the mist that riseth white
Up from mere and pool at
night!
Follow, follow stars that leap
Up the heavens
cold and steep;
Turn when dawn comes over land,
Over
rapid, over sand,
South away! and South away!
Seek the
sunlight and the day,
Back to pasture, back to mead,
Where the kine and oxen feed!
Back to gardens on the hills
Where the berry swells and fills
Under sunlight, under day!
South away! and South away!
Down the swift dark stream
you go
Back to lands you once did know!
(1937)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
It was the last sunshine of the year as Sally Ann cut through the icy water between the sleeping fields. Dolly curled up on the hatch, purring while Ralph stroked her with his free hand - the other was on the tiller. Marnie uncorked a bottle of Aussie red and poured two generous glasses. There were herons on the bank at almost regular intervals and voles about at the water's edge. (2001)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
On one such evening in 1874 a boat carrying munitions had exploded along this stretch of canal, killing the three-man crew and a boy passing on the towpath and destroying Macclesfield Road bridge, subsequently rebuilt and ever after called the 'blow-up bridge'. Marnie could see its sturdy steel columns in the beam of the lamp. She took care to steer Sally Ann between the bank and the flotsam in the water, straining her eyes to make sure it was just another plastic bag floating on the surface and nothing more substantial that might damage the hull. She slowed down to ease past, watching carefully to make sure it did not slide under the stern and foul the propeller. Her cheeks suddenly tingled as she realised that the shape in the water was not a plastic bag. She pushed the heavy lever into reverse gear and revved the engine to bring the boat to a stop, while she lunged forward to grab the torch from its hook by the control panel. The shape in the water was a body, face down, barely visible on the dark surface. (2001)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
Ralph's boat, Thyrsis, thoroughly checked over and locked up by Marnie and Anne, receded, its green paintwork turned to grey in the half light, and vanished in the gloom behind them. As they broke clear of the spinney and passed the last willow trailing fronds in the water, the fields spread out from the canal on both sides, stretching off towards the horizon, like a monochrome lithograph. As usual on a long journey, Marnie stood in silence at the outset, listening to the beat of the engine, getting the feel of the boat under her control, the balance of the tiller. Anne stood quietly beside her, taking in the sights and sounds, feeling the cold air on the tip of her nose. She saw a heron in the light of the headlamp, fifty metres away, apparently frozen solid on the bank, and even as she pointed it out to Marnie, it hunched forward and flapped off in a great circle over the fields. Now there was enough daylight to see sheep and cattle, humps in the landscape, clustered together on the slopes. A few lamps were glowing inside the cabin, making a faint shadow of light that ran along the bank beside them. Anne wondered how they looked to anyone who saw them across the countryside, and almost at once she saw in the far distance a train, tiny and silent, a phosphorescent worm cutting through the dark landscape at a tremendous pace. There was no other movement to be seen. They were suspended outside the real world, and this could be any time, any place, ever. Anne felt so thrilled she wanted to jump in the air and shout, turn cartwheels on the roof of the boat, fly with the heron over the frosty fields. Instead, she took hold of Marnie's hand on the tiller in both of her hands, squeezed and smiled broadly into her face. Marnie smiled back and nodded, knowing. She had been through these feelings herself many times on Sally Ann during her journeys, especially when setting out on the first stage. She understood. (2001)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
"Ee, man, you know little about boats," said the lock-keeper's wife, and Hornblower's ears burned with embarrassment. He thought of the examination he had passed in navigation and seamanship, he thought of how often he had tacked a monstrous ship of the line in heavy weather. That experience was not of much use to him here in inland Gloucestershire or perhaps it was Oxfordshire by now and in any case the lock was empty, the gates opening, the towlines tightening, and he had to leap down six feet or more in a hurry into the already moving stern, remembering to take the stern-line down with him. He managed it, clumsily as ever, and he heard the lock-keeper's wife's hearty laugh as he glided on below her; and she said something more, too, but he could pay no attention to it, as he had to grab for the tiller and steer the hurrying boat out under the bridge. And when he had first paid for their passages he had pictured to himself the leisurely life of the canal boatman! (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
Having climbed up through the locks, the canal boat was now winding over the pleasant Cotswold country. Hornblower was bubbling with good spirits, on his way to take up a new command, seeing new sights, travelling in an entirely new way, at a moment when the entirely unpredictable English weather had decided to stage a clear sunny day in the middle of December. This was a delightful way of travelling, despite the cold. (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
Maria, with the sleeping little Horatio in her arms, gave a sigh at her husband's restlessness and shifted her knees to allow him passage, and he rose under the restricted height of the first-class cabin and stepped out through the forward door into the open bow of the passage-boat. Here he could stand on his sea chest and look round him. It was a queer craft, fully seventy feet long and, judging by eye as he looked aft, he would think hardly five feet in beam—the same proportions as had the crazy dugout canoes he had seen in use in the West Indies. Her draught must be less than a foot; that was clear as she tore along behind the cantering horses at a speed that must certainly be all of eight knots —nine miles an hour he told himself, hurriedly, for that was the way they measured speeds here inland. (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
The passage-boat was making her way from Gloucester to London along the Thames and Severn Canal; going far more smoothly than the stage coach, it was very nearly as fast and decidedly cheaper, at a penny a mile, even in the first class. He and Maria, with the child, were the only first-class passengers, and the boatman, when Hornblower had paid the fares, had cocked an eye at Maria's condition and had said that by rights they ought to pay two children's fares instead of one. Maria had snorted with disdain at such vulgarity, while the onlookers chuckled. Standing on his sea chest, Hornblower could look over the canal banks, at the grey stone boundary walls and the grey stone farms. The rhythmic sound of the hoofs of the cantering tow horses accentuated the smoothness of the travel; the boat itself made hardly a sound as it slid along over the surface of the water—Hornblower noticed that the boatmen had the trick of lifting the bows, by a sudden acceleration, on to the crest of the bow wave raised by her passage, and retaining them there. (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
With the wings fitted he and the steersman on board, and the horseholder on the bank, took their places along the side of the Queen-Charlotte. A strong united shove sent the boat gliding into the cut, heading for the tunnel. "Keep 'er goin', sir," said the steersman, scrambling forward to the port side wing. It was obvious that it would be far easier to maintain gentle way on the boat than to progress in fits and starts of alternate stopping and moving. Hornblower hurried to the starboard side wing and laid himself down on it as the bows of the boat crept into the dark tunnel. Lying on his right side, with his head inboard, he felt his feet come into contact with the brick lining of the tunnel. He pressed with his feet, and then by a simple backwards walking motion he urged the boat along. "Hold hard, sir," said the steersman—his head was just beside Hornblower's—"there's two miles an' more to go." A tunnel two miles long, driven through the solid rock of the Cotswolds ! No wonder it was the marvel of the age. The Romans with all their aqueducts had achieved nothing to compare with this. Farther and farther into the tunnel they went, into darkness that increased in intensity, until it was frightfully, astonishingly dark, with the eye recording nothing at all, strain as it might. At their entrance into the tunnel the women had chattered and laughed, and had shouted to hear the echoes in the tunnel. "Silly lot o' hens," muttered the steersman. Now they fell silent, oppressed by the darkness, all except Maria. "I trust you remember you have your good clothes on, Horatio," she said. "Yes, dear," said Hornblower, happy in the knowledge that she could not possibly see him. (1937)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
As on her solo journey of the previous summer, Marnie felt elated to be in command of her boat. She loved the cold air and the wintry landscape, the animals and birds, the pastoral surroundings and the freedom. She had had this feeling before, that she had escaped and was playing truant. She was travelling on a highway that led on to every waterway and ocean in the world. She could go anywhere and do anything. It surprised Marnie, not normally given to flights of fancy, that she could think like that. But travelling on the canals had this effect on her, especially when she was alone and her imagination was free to wander for hours at a time, while the engine chugged below her feet and the country slipped by. (2001)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
Her mouth opened and Marnie was transfixed, unable for a few seconds to move. Coming steadily towards the lock on the exact course for entering the chamber, was Sally Ann. Marnie ran down the towpath, unclear as to how she would get on board to avert a disaster, at a loss to know how the boat had managed to free herself from her mooring rope, engage gear and steer herself away from the bank. Within a few yards though ... Marnie skidded to a halt, turned round and walked casually up to perch on the balance beam with her back to the boat. As Sally slid quietly into the lock, Marnie called over her shoulder. "You might as well put the kettle on. We're probably both ready for coffee." In reply she heard a shriek of laughter and looking round she saw Anne, in red and white ski-suit, standing at the tiller smiling broadly. (2001)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
"Yes, I think so ... it's quite distinctive. Now, where were we? Oh yes, you were telling me about the difference between a barge and a narrowboat. Do go on." Marnie was drawn further into a description of boats in general and Sally Ann in particular, of trads, semi-trads, tugs and Joshers. Grant's questions were intelligent and perceptive, and she gradually came to realise that, for a man, and a politician at that, he was that rare species, a good listener. He seemed genuinely interested, and Marnie could not believe it was just the politician's technique of making someone feel that they were the most important person around. (2001)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
The faint winter sun filtered through the trees of the spinney, bringing dappled light and shade all around the docking area as they sat on deck wrapped up against the cold, drinking their coffee. They gripped mugs in both hands to keep their fingers warm, and the steam rose straight up from the drinks in the still air. The water in the canal shone, reflecting a faded blue sky. A few birds were singing. There were no other sounds, no cars, no aeroplanes, nothing to intrude. (2001)
Death in Little Venice by Leo McNeir
Both sides of the canal were lined with brightly painted narrowboats, attractive in the dappled street lighting that flickered between the trees on either bank. This was where Marnie had first kept Sally Ann and where she still had friends. They cruised by Mrs Jolly's house before entering the tunnel entrance below the cafe where she had eaten with Malcolm, and soon found themselves gliding under road and train bridges to enter Regent's Park, with the sky now perceptibly brightening by the minute. "This is beautiful," Anne said. "How far shall we go?" "How about down to the pagoda and back? That should make a nice run. About half an hour." "Okay. And breakfast? Could we tie up somewhere in the park?" "I think, strictly speaking, that isn't allowed, but I don't see anyone around to stop us." "Great." Anne steered a straight course down the middle of the canal through the zoo, where the kudus looked down on them from their compound and unfamiliar foreign birds preened themselves on high branches in the aviary. "This makes a change from the sheep and herons back home," Anne laughed. "It's all so exotic for a narrowboat on the canal. (2001)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
Hornblower had to spring for the stern sheets, line in hand, and he had to grab for the tiller. Maybe Maria was still expostulating, but if she were, Hornblower was already far too busy to hear anything she said. It was impressive how quickly the Queen Charlotte picked up speed as the horses, suddenly breaking into a trot, pulled her bows up on to her bow wave. From a trot they changed to a canter, and the speed seemed fantastic—far faster, to Hornblower's heated imagination, now that he was at the helm instead of being a mere irresponsible passenger. The banks were flying by; fortunately in this deep cut of the summit level the channel was straight at first, for the steering was not perfectly simple. The two towlines, one at the bow and one at the stern, held the boat parallel to the bank with the smallest use of the rudder—an economic employment of force that appealed to Hornblower's mathematical mind, but which made the feel of the boat a little unnatural as he tentatively tried the tiller. (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
Crack-crack-crack-crack—that was Jenkins with his whip—was not the speed already great enough for him? Round the bend, coming towards them, there was another canal boat, creeping peacefully along towed by a single horse. Hornblower realized that Jenkins' four whip cracks were a signal, demanding a clear passage. He hoped most sincerely and fervently that one would be granted, as the canal boat hastened down upon the barge. The bargee at the tow horse's head brought the beast to a standstill, edging him over into the hedge beside the towpath; the bargee's wife put her tiller over and the barge swerved majestically, with her residual way, towards the reeds that lined the opposite bank; so between horse and barge the tow-rope sank to the ground on the towpath, and into the water in a deep bight. Over the tow-rope cantered Jenkins' horses, and Hornblower headed the passage boat for the narrow space between the barge and the towpath. He could guess that the water beside the path was shallow; it was necessary to steer the passage boat to shave the barge as closely as possible, and in any case the bargee's wife, accustomed to encountering skilled steersmen, had only left him the minimum of room. Hornblower was in a fair way towards panic as the passage boat dashed forward. (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
There was still plenty of daylight when they came out into the Thames valley and Hornblower, looking down to starboard, could see the infant river—not such an infant at its winter level—running below. Every turn and every lock brought the canal nearer to the stream, and at last they reached Inglesham, with Lechlade church steeple in view ahead, and the junction with the river. At Inglesham lock Jenkins left his horses and came back to speak to Hornblower. "There's three staunches on the river next that we have to run, sir," he said. Hornblower had no idea what a staunch was, and he very much wanted to know before he had to "run" them, but at the same time he did not want to admit ignorance. Jenkins may have been tactful enough to sense his difficulty; at least he gave an explanation. "They're dams across the river, sir," he told Hornblower. "At this time o' year, with plenty of water, some o' the paddles are kept out for good, at the towpath end o' the staunch. There's a fall o' five or six feet" "Five or six feet?" repeated Hornblower, startled. "Yes, sir. 'Bout that much. But it isn't a real fall, if you know what I mean, sir. Steep, but no more." "And we have to run down it?" "Yes, sir. It's easy enough, sir—at the top, leastways." "And at the bottom?" "There's an eddy there, sir, like as you'd expect. But if you hold her straight, sir, the nags'll take you through." "I'll hold her straight," said Hornblower. "O' course you will, sir." (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
Lechlade Bridge just ahead of them—the staunch was half a mile beyond, Jenkins said. Although the air was distinctly cold now Horn-blower was conscious that his palms, as they rested on the tiller, were distinctly damp. To him now it appeared a wildly reckless thing to do, to attempt to shoot the staunch inexperienced as he was. He would prefer — infinitely prefer — not to try. But he had to steer through the arch of the bridge—the horses splashed fetlock deep there—and then it was too late to do anything about his change of mind. There was the line of the staunch across the stream, the gap in it plainly visible on the port side. Beyond the staunch the surface of the river was not visible because of the drop, but above the gap the water headed down in a steep, sleek slope, higher at the sides than in the middle; the fragments which floated on the surface were all hurrying towards it, like people in a public hall all pressing towards a single exit.
Hornblower steered for the centre of the gap, choking a little with excitement; he could feel the altered trim of the boat as her bows sank and her stern rose on the slope. Now they were flying down, down. Below, the smooth slope narrowed down to a point, beyond which and on each side was the turbulent water of the eddy. He still had steerage way enough to steer down the point; as he felt die boat answer the helm he was momentarily tempted to follow up the mathematical line of thought presented by that situation, but he had neither time nor really the inclination. The bows hit the turbulent water with a jar and a splash; the boat lurched in the eddy, but next moment the towlines plucked them forward again. Two seconds' careful steering and they were through the eddy and they were gliding over a smooth surface once more, foam-streaked but smooth, and Hornblower was laughing out loud. It had been simple, but so exhilarating that it did not occur to him to condemn himself for his earlier misgivings.
Jenkins looked back, turning in his saddle, and waved his whip, and Hornblower waved back. (1937)
Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester
The winter evening was closing round them, the light mellowing while it faded over ploughland and meadow, over the pollard willows knee-deep in the stream, over the farmhouses and cottages. It was all very lovely; Hornblower had the feeling that he did not want this moment ever to end. This was happiness, as his earlier feelings of well-being changed to something more peaceful, just as the surface of the river had changed below the eddy. Soon he would be back in another life again, plunged once more into a world of cruelty and war—the world he had left behind in the tide-water of the Severn and would meet again in the tide-water of the Thames. It was symbolic that it should be here in the centre of England, at the midpoint of his journey, that he should reach this momentary summit of happiness. The cattle in the fields, the rooks in the trees—were they part of this happiness? Possibly, but not certainly. The happiness came from within him, and depended on even more transitory factors than those. Hornblower breathed the evening air as though it were divine poetry, and then he noticed Jenkins waving to him from his saddle and pointing with his whip, and the moment was over, lost for ever. (1937)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Slowly the golden memory of the dead sun fades from the hearts of the cold, sad clouds. Silent, like sorrowing children, the birds have ceased their song, and only the moorhen’s plaintive cry and the harsh croak of the corncrake stirs the awed hush around the couch of waters, where the dying day breathes out her last.
From the dim woods on either bank, Night’s ghostly army, the grey shadows, creep out with noiseless tread to chase away the lingering rear-guard of the light, and pass, with noiseless, unseen feet, above the waving river-grass, and through the sighing rushes; and Night, upon her sombre throne, folds her black wings above the darkening world, and, from her phantom palace, lit by the pale stars, reigns in stillness. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Then we run our little boat into some quiet nook, and the tent is pitched, and the frugal supper cooked and eaten. Then the big pipes are filled and lighted, and the pleasant chat goes round in musical undertone; while, in the pauses of our talk, the river, playing round the boat, prattles strange old tales and secrets, sings low the old child’s song that it has sung so many thousand years—will sing so many thousand years to come, before its voice grows harsh and old—a song that we, who have learnt to love its changing face, who have so often nestled on its yielding bosom, think, somehow, we understand, though we could not tell you in mere words the story that we listen to. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
And we sit there, by its margin, while the moon, who loves it too, stoops down to kiss it with a sister’s kiss, and throws her silver arms around it clingingly; and we watch it as it flows, ever singing, ever whispering, out to meet its king, the sea—till our voices die away in silence, and the pipes go out—till we, common-place, everyday young men enough, feel strangely full of thoughts, half sad, half sweet, and do not care or want to speak—till we laugh, and, rising, knock the ashes from our burnt-out pipes, and say “Good-night,” and, lulled by the lapping water and the rustling trees, we fall asleep beneath the great, still stars, and dream that the world is young again—young and sweet as she used to be ere the centuries of fret and care had furrowed her fair face, ere her children’s sins and follies had made old her loving heart—sweet as she was in those bygone days when, a new-made mother, she nursed us, her children, upon her own deep breast—ere the wiles of painted civilization had lured us away from her fond arms, and the poisoned sneers of artificiality had made us ashamed of the simple life we led with her, and the simple, stately home where mankind was born so many thousands years ago. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Maidenhead itself is too snobby to be pleasant. It is the haunt of the river swell and his overdressed female companion. It is the town of showy hotels, patronised chiefly by dudes and ballet girls. It is the witch’s kitchen from which go forth those demons of the river—steam-launches. The 'London Journal' duke always has his “little place” at Maidenhead; and the heroine of the three-volume novel always dines there when she goes out on the spree with somebody else’s husband. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We pulled up in the backwater, just below Cookham, and had tea; and, when we were through the lock, it was evening. A stiffish breeze had sprung up—in our favour, for a wonder; for, as a rule on the river, the wind is always dead against you whatever way you go. It is against you in the morning, when you start for a day’s trip, and you pull a long distance, thinking how easy it will be to come back with the sail. Then, after tea, the wind veers round, and you have to pull hard in its teeth all the way home.
When you forget to take the sail at all, then the wind is consistently in your favour both ways. But there! this world is only a probation, and man was born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.
This evening, however, they had evidently made a mistake, and had put the wind round at our back instead of in our face. We kept very quiet about it, and got the sail up quickly before they found it out, and then we spread ourselves about the boat in thoughtful attitudes, and the sail bellied out, and strained, and grumbled at the mast, and the boat flew. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Harris let the sail down, and then we saw what had happened. We had knocked those three old gentlemen off their chairs into a general heap at the bottom of the boat, and they were now slowly and painfully sorting themselves out from each other, and picking fish off themselves; and as they worked, they cursed us—not with a common cursory curse, but with long, carefully-thought-out, comprehensive curses, that embraced the whole of our career, and went away into the distant future, and included all our relations, and covered everything connected with us—good, substantial curses.
Harris told them they ought to be grateful for a little excitement, sitting there fishing all day, and he also said that he was shocked and grieved to hear men their age give way to temper so.
But it did not do any good. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Marlow is one of the pleasantest river centres I know of. It is a bustling, lively little town; not very picturesque on the whole, it is true, but there are many quaint nooks and corners to be found in it, nevertheless—standing arches in the shattered bridge of Time, over which our fancy travels back to the days when Marlow Manor owned Saxon Algar for its lord, ere conquering William seized it to give to Queen Matilda, ere it passed to the Earls of Warwick or to worldly-wise Lord Paget, the councillor of four successive sovereigns.
There is lovely country round about it, too, if, after boating, you are fond of a walk, while the river itself is at its best here. Down to Cookham, past the Quarry Woods and the meadows, is a lovely reach. Dear old Quarry Woods! with your narrow, climbing paths, and little winding glades, how scented to this hour you seem with memories of sunny summer days! How haunted are your shadowy vistas with the ghosts of laughing faces! how from your whispering leaves there softly fall the voices of long ago! (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We had a good deal of trouble with steam launches that morning. It was just before the Henley week, and they were going up in large numbers; some by themselves, some towing houseboats. I do hate steam launches: I suppose every rowing man does. I never see a steam launch but I feel I should like to lure it to a lonely part of the river, and there, in the silence and the solitude, strangle it. (1889)
The Thames to the Solent - by Canal and Sea by J. B. Dashwood
Into these beautiful oak plantations we now entered by a perfectly straight and deep cutting, about a mile and a half in length, with numbers of low stone bridges crossing the Canal at intervals, which presented a very striking effect. It is from these highlands that many of the tributaries of the Rivers Wey and Arun spring— Hindhead, not many miles distant, being the watershed of this district. Our route now lay through a most refreshing and picturesque country of a broken and undulating character, densely clothed with a forest of oak-trees, opening out and giving peeps into deep hollows verdant with luxuriant ferns and purple heather. Here and there were breaks in the woodland, and the small round hills, rich in pasturage, appeared—the ancient folds of the Weald. (1868)
The Thames to the Solent - by Canal and Sea by J. B. Dashwood
He suggested that we should try the plan generally found to answer by the bargemen, viz. to blindfold the animal, but this was of no avail, and rather made matters worse. Sussex was always famous for its ingenious gates, but this three-barred arrangement beats anything one ever saw; they seemed to find favour with no one, for all whom we met abused them, and they gave us endless trouble. At last we discovered the quickest plan was to lead the pony to the gate, the bars being fastened down, then to lift one leg over and place it firmly on the ground on the opposite side, and so coax her over. By means of these and other dodges we progressed on our way. The tide was strong against us, but the pony was still stronger, so we quickly went ahead. (1868)
The Thames to the Solent - by Canal and Sea by J. B. Dashwood
No more locks to open; no more aggravating gates to pass; nothing to prevent me lying down in my plaids, and smoking my pipe in peace, whilst the winds and the waves did all the work for us. Our trip by canal had been quite charming, but rather hard work, and after our four days' labour, we were glad of the change. We soon passed the towns of Middleton and Bognor, with their esplanades and white-fronted houses lighted up by the sun, and giving Pagham harbour a wide berth, we steered a little out to weather the point of Selsea Bill. (1868)
Lock Keeper's Daughter by Pat Warner
When a couple decided to be wed, the parents decorated the new floating love nest with crepe paper, bunting, flowers and ribbons. They would be married in the church nearest to where the boat was tied. The bridegroom would carry his bride from the church to the boat, unless, of course, she was a fairly hefty wench. And then, away they would float in their gondola... (1986)
Lock Keeper's Daughter by Pat Warner
If a boatman died and he was away from his home town or village, he would be brought back in his coffin, slung from the beams of his boat which would be drawn back to the home depot or port by his relations or workmates. All other boats would give way to a vessel that was carrying its skipper on his last journey. Although all manner of dangerous fuels and acids were carried on the canal, accidents were few and far between and seldom did you hear of the loss of life through negligence. (1986)
Lock Keeper's Daughter by Pat Warner
The donkeys knew every part of the canalside and just where to stop at the locks. Although they didn't know when to start, they invariably knew when to stop. They also knew the whereabouts of every stable and that as soon as they left Tardebigge there would be a little girl waiting at Lock 53 to give them some carrots. I love them still. (1986)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
At Reading lock we came up with a steam launch, belonging to some friends of mine, and they towed us up to within about a mile of Streatley. It is very delightful being towed up by a launch. I prefer it myself to rowing. The run would have been more delightful still, if it had not been for a lot of wretched small boats that were continually getting in the way of our launch, and, to avoid running down which, we had to be continually easing and stopping. It is really most annoying, the manner in which these rowing boats get in the way of one’s launch up the river; something ought to done to stop it.
And they are so confoundedly impertinent, too, over it. You can whistle till you nearly burst your boiler before they will trouble themselves to hurry. I would have one or two of them run down now and then, if I had my way, just to teach them all a lesson. (1889)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
He thought his happiness was complete when, as he meandered aimlessly along, suddenly he stood by the edge of a full-fed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before–this sleek, sinuous, full-bodied animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with a gurgle and leaving them with a laugh, to fling itself on fresh playmates that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was a-shake and a-shiver–glints and gleams and sparkles, rustle and swirl, chatter and bubble. The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spell-bound by exciting stories; and when tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
The Rat said nothing, but stooped and unfastened a rope and hauled on it; then lightly stepped into a little boat which the Mole had not observed. It was painted blue outside and white within, and was just the size for two animals; and the Mole's whole heart went out to it at once, even though he did not yet fully understand its uses.
The Rat sculled smartly across and made fast. Then he held up his forepaw as the Mole stepped gingerly down. 'Lean on that!' he said. 'Now then, step lively!' and the Mole to his surprise and rapture found himself actually seated in the stern of a real boat.
'This has been a wonderful day!' said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. 'Do you know, I've never been in a boat before in all my life.' (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
The Mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with the sparkle, the ripple, the scents and the sounds and the sunlight, he trailed a paw in the water and dreamed long waking dreams. The Water Rat, like the good little fellow he was, sculled steadily on and forebore to disturb him. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
'And you really live by the river? What a jolly life!'
'By it and with it and on it and in it,' said the Rat. 'It's brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It's my world, and I don't want any other. What it hasn't got is not worth having, and what it doesn't know is not worth knowing. Lord! the times we've had together! Whether in winter or summer, spring or autumn, it's always got its fun and its excitements. When the floods are on in February, and my cellars and basement are brimming with drink that's no good to me, and the brown water runs by my best bedroom window; or again when it all drops away and, shows patches of mud that smells like plum-cake, and the rushes and weed clog the channels, and I can potter about dry shod over most of the bed of it and find fresh food to eat, and things careless people have dropped out of boats!' (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
Leaving the main stream, they now passed into what seemed at first sight like a little land-locked lake. Green turf sloped down to either edge, brown snaky tree-roots gleamed below the surface of the quiet water, while ahead of them the silvery shoulder and foamy tumble of a weir, arm-in-arm with a restless dripping mill-wheel, that held up in its turn a grey-gabled mill-house, filled the air with a soothing murmur of sound, dull and smothery, yet with little clear voices speaking up cheerfully out of it at intervals. It was so very beautiful that the Mole could only hold up both forepaws and gasp, 'O my! O my! O my!' (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
'Toad's out, for one,' replied the Otter. 'In his brand-new wager-boat; new togs, new everything!'
The two animals looked at each other and laughed.
'Once, it was nothing but sailing,' said the Rat, 'Then he tired of that and took to punting. Nothing would please him but to punt all day and every day, and a nice mess he made of it. Last year it was house-boating, and we all had to go and stay with him in his house-boat, and pretend we liked it. He was going to spend the rest of his life in a house-boat. It's all the same, whatever he takes up; he gets tired of it, and starts on something fresh.' (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
The Rat was sitting on the river bank, singing a little song. He had just composed it himself, so he was very taken up with it, and would not pay proper attention to Mole or anything else. Since early morning he had been swimming in the river, in company with his friends the ducks. And when the ducks stood on their heads suddenly, as ducks will, he would dive down and tickle their necks, just under where their chins would be if ducks had chins, till they were forced to come to the surface again in a hurry, spluttering and angry and shaking their feathers at him, for it is impossible to say quite ALL you feel when your head is under water. At last they implored him to go away and attend to his own affairs and leave them to mind theirs. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
'O, pooh! boating!' interrupted the Toad, in great disgust. Silly boyish amusement. I've given that up LONG ago. Sheer waste of time, that's what it is. It makes me downright sorry to see you fellows, who ought to know better, spending all your energies in that aimless manner. No, I've discovered the real thing, the only genuine occupation for a life time. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
Such a rich chapter it had been, when one came to look back on it all! With illustrations so numerous and so very highly coloured! The pageant of the river bank had marched steadily along, unfolding itself in scene-pictures that succeeded each other in stately procession. Purple loosestrife arrived early, shaking luxuriant tangled locks along the edge of the mirror whence its own face laughed back at it. Willow-herb, tender and wistful, like a pink sunset cloud, was not slow to follow. Comfrey, the purple hand-in-hand with the white, crept forth to take its place in the line; and at last one morning the diffident and delaying dog-rose stepped delicately on the stage, and one knew, as if string-music had announced it in stately chords that strayed into a gavotte, that June at last was here. One member of the company was still awaited; the shepherd-boy for the nymphs to woo, the knight for whom the ladies waited at the window, the prince that was to kiss the sleeping summer back to life and love. But when meadow-sweet, debonair and odorous in amber jerkin, moved graciously to his place in the group, then the play was ready to begin. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
And what a play it had been! Drowsy animals, snug in their holes while wind and rain were battering at their doors, recalled still keen mornings, an hour before sunrise, when the white mist, as yet undispersed, clung closely along the surface of the water; then the shock of the early plunge, the scamper along the bank, and the radiant transformation of earth, air, and water, when suddenly the sun was with them again, and grey was gold and colour was born and sprang out of the earth once more. They recalled the languorous siesta of hot mid-day, deep in green undergrowth, the sun striking through in tiny golden shafts and spots; the boating and bathing of the afternoon, the rambles along dusty lanes and through yellow cornfields; and the long, cool evening at last, when so many threads were gathered up, so many friendships rounded, and so many adventures planned for the morrow. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
The line of the horizon was clear and hard against the sky, and in one particular quarter it showed black against a silvery climbing phosphorescence that grew and grew. At last, over the rim of the waiting earth the moon lifted with slow majesty till it swung clear of the horizon and rode off, free of moorings; and once more they began to see surfaces–meadows wide-spread, and quiet gardens, and the river itself from bank to bank, all softly disclosed, all washed clean of mystery and terror, all radiant again as by day, but with a difference that was tremendous. Their old haunts greeted them again in other raiment, as if they had slipped away and put on this pure new apparel and come quietly back, smiling as they shyly waited to see if they would be recognised again under it. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
'Now it passes on and I begin to lose it,' he said presently. 'O Mole! the beauty of it! The merry bubble and joy, the thin, clear, happy call of the distant piping! Such music I never dreamed of, and the call in it is stronger even than the music is sweet! Row on, Mole, row! For the music and the call must be for us.' (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
On either side of them, as they glided onwards, the rich meadow-grass seemed that morning of a freshness and a greenness unsurpassable. Never had they noticed the roses so vivid, the willow-herb so riotous, the meadow-sweet so odorous and pervading. Then the murmur of the approaching weir began to hold the air, and they felt a consciousness that they were nearing the end, whatever it might be, that surely awaited their expedition. (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
Restlessly the Rat wandered off once more, climbed the slope that rose gently from the north bank of the river, and lay looking out towards the great ring of Downs that barred his vision further southwards–his simple horizon hitherto, his Mountains of the Moon, his limit behind which lay nothing he had cared to see or to know. To-day, to him gazing South with a new-born need stirring in his heart, the clear sky over their long low outline seemed to pulsate with promise; to-day, the unseen was everything, the unknown the only real fact of life. On this side of the hills was now the real blank, on the other lay the crowded and coloured panorama that his inner eye was seeing so clearly. What seas lay beyond, green, leaping, and crested! What sun-bathed coasts, along which the white villas glittered against the olive woods! What quiet harbours, thronged with gallant shipping bound for purple islands of wine and spice, islands set low in languorous waters! (1908)
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame
'Toad Hall? Why, I'm going that way myself,' replied the barge-woman. 'This canal joins the river some miles further on, a little above Toad Hall; and then it's an easy walk. You come along in the barge with me, and I'll give you a lift.'
She steered the barge close to the bank, and Toad, with many humble and grateful acknowledgments, stepped lightly on board and sat down with great satisfaction. 'Toad's luck again!' thought he. 'I always come out on top!' (1908)
Sarum by Edward Rutherford
They encountered marshes, and large woods. Trees appeared that they had never seen before: elm, alder, ash and oak, birch and even pine. They investigated each one in turn. The pine in particular they smelt with interest, and felt the sticky gum that oozed from its soft bark. There were huge luxuriant rushes by the water, and lush green grass in enormous tufts. Signs of game appeared; one morning when he was trapping a fish in a stream, the children came to his side and silently led him a hundred paces upstream. There, ahead of him, were two long brown animals with silky fur playing on the riverbank in the sunlight. They had not seen otters before and for the first time in months, the travellers smiled with pleasure. That same night, however, they heard another new sound — the eerie, chilling cry of wolves in the woods— and they huddled close together in fear. (1987)
Sarum by Edward Rutherford
A few nights later, a remarkable sight could be seen at the place where the five rivers met. On the riverbank, where the river made its lazy sweep to the south west, two large fires were burning. Over one of these, a wild horse was roasting and over the other, a deer. Between the fires, in a large circle, sat no less than fifteen families of hunters who had come from miles around to hear the old man. The blue smoke rose into the late summer night. The hunters ate well; there was a constant murmur and occasional bursts of laughter from the festivities beside the crackling fires. It was many years since there had been such a large gathering, not since long before the settlers had come to their valley, and as they feasted on the meat, the fish and berries that the land had always given them, the hunters could almost forget that anything had changed. (1987)
Sarum by Edward Rutherford
They came up the river in a large curragh—twice the size of the boat in which he had left—which was painted white. Wise Omnic, remembering the message of the auguries, which all the people knew, had covered the girl's head not only with a coronet of gold, but an intricate golden net that reached down her back, and he had made her stand in the front of the boat so that the people in the settlements along the river would see her clearly as the boat passed. His choice was excellent: the girl was tall, high-breasted and slim. She was not beautiful; she had a long nose, solemn grey eyes and her skin was pitted; but she was the daughter of an Irish chief who had parted with her for a handsome payment, and her mother and grandmother had each borne twelve healthy children. (1987)
Farmer Giles of Ham by J. R. R. Tolkien
Just at that moment the dragon got up from under the bridge. He had lain there concealed under the far bank, deep in the river. Now he let off a terrible steam, for he had drunk many gallons of water. At once there was a thick fog, and only the red eyes of the dragon to be seen in it.
"Go home, you fools!" he bellowed. "Or I will tear you to pieces. There are knights lying cold in the mountain-pass, and soon there will be more in the river. All the King's horses and all the King's men !" he roared. (1949)
Farmer Giles of Ham by J. R. R. Tolkien
Garm heard a thump-thump coming along the river-bank, and he ran to the west side of the low hill on which the farmhouse stood, just to see what was happening. Suddenly he saw the giant stride right across the river and tread upon Galathea, the farmer's favourite cow, squashing the poor beast as flat as the farmer could have squashed a blackbeetle. (1949)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
Cropredy is not a canal village. The fine church, with its beacon tower, and the street of thatched stone cottages that slopes down to the canal bridge were old in 1644, when they watched the plumed cavaliers sweep by in brave array to do battle for King Charles in the meadows by the Cherwell. Yet the gulf of years narrows with age, so that Cropredy has come to accept the canal, dreaming beneath its old brick bridge, as a part of itself, for it is a hundred and sixty years since the first boat passed by. (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
On an afternoon of the last week in July the great moment arrived when we slipped Cressy's mooring-lines and drew slowly away from the boatyard, heading northwards. Only Herbert Tooley on the bank and the blacksmith at the smithy door watched our unostentatious departure. Beside us on the aft deck stood Mr. Tooley senior in his Sunday suit and best bowler. He had suggested "giving us a hand" as far as Cropredy, such a childlike eagerness lurking beneath his deliberately casual offer that we had not the heart to refuse the old man. As we rounded the bend in the canal that had been the tempting limit of my view for so long, I looked back over the churning wake of our screw for a last glimpse of the familiar yard before the tall hedgerow beside the tow-path hid it from sight. (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
Inland navigation must be the safest form of transport ever devised, and compared to the death-dealing turmoil of the modern motor road, the canal or river is a veritable sanctuary. (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
By this time we had become so accustomed to travelling on broad rivers that it seemed strange to find ourselves once more confined to such a narrow channel of dead water. The banks, overgrown with tall reeds, appeared to crowd in upon us, an effect that was heightened by the great clumps of reed which had broken away from the banks and floated into deep water, often forming what appeared to be an impassable barrier until they were swung aside by Cressy's bows. By the time we had worked our way through the first two canal locks and had come to Shardlow, darkness was falling fast, so we moored for the night in the meadows just beyond the village. (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
A pair of narrow boats were coming out of the lock opposite, numerous holiday-makers in minute pedal-driven craft were darting hither and thither like so many water-fleas, with a joyous abandon that cared nothing for the rules of navigation, while, to complete the congestion, a race was in progress for small sailing-boats and, since there was a head wind, these last were tacking from bank to bank across the stream. Turning left-handed, we forged steadily up-river, keeping a wary eye on the pedal boats, which were reminiscent both in appearance and behaviour of the "Dodgem Cars" at a fair, and at the same time taking care to pass the amateur sailors on the right tack. (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
As this was the height of the holiday season, we had been surprised at the absence of pleasure craft on the quiet reaches of the Soar, but the next few hundred yards of the river above Sawley amply accounted for the deficiency. A dozen or more cabin cruisers were moored head to stern along the banks, whose grass, bruised and flattened, was bestrewn with an untidy litter of paper bags, empty tins, orange peel and the embers of picnic fires. Nearly all the boats had crews aboard, of whom some were bathing, while others lolled on the decks to the accompaniment of the inevitable gramophone or radio. Evidently the townsman afloat is as gregarious as his confrere of the roads, whose habits I have frequently pondered with amazement. Often on a bank holiday I have walked or driven through fields and lanes for hours on end without meeting a soul, but, on coming upon a main road, found its verges crowded with cars and picnic parties within a bun's throw of each other. It would seem that the close confinement of great cities has re-awakened the herd instinct of the primitive. The countryman knows no unease in the elemental silence of lonely places; but when the people of the towns return to the land they have forsaken, impelled by a craving they do not understand, it is to find its solitude intolerable, so complete is their estrangement. This is one of the tragic results of the drift to the towns. (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
Being "off the land" Mrs. Hone was the only member of the family capable of reading or writing, and was regarded with a certain awe in consequence. On Sunday mornings it became customary for her to stand at the cabin hatch of the "Cylgate" as before a lectern, reading extracts from the Sunday newspaper in a slow, expressionless monotone to a rapt audience, consisting of the rest of the family and any other canal folk who happened to be within earshot. They habitually stood in a silent group on the tow-path, never interrupting, but pondering each word as though it was a pearl of wisdom from some remote and god-like intelligence. (1944)
The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells
We remained at Weybridge until midday, and at that hour we found ourselves at the place near Shepperton Lock where the Wey and Thames join. Part of the time we spent helping two old women to pack a little cart. The Wey has a treble mouth, and at this point boats are to be hired, and there was a ferry across the river. On the Shepperton side was an inn with a lawn, and beyond that the tower of Shepperton Church–it has been replaced by a spire–rose above the trees.
Here we found an excited and noisy crowd of fugitives. As yet the flight had not grown to a panic, but there were already far more people than all the boats going to and fro could enable to cross. People came panting along under heavy burdens; one husband and wife were even carrying a small outhouse door between them, with some of their household goods piled thereon. One man told us he meant to try to get away from Shepperton station. (1898)
The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells
Across the Thames, except just where the boats landed, everything was quiet, in vivid contrast with the Surrey side. The people who landed there from the boats went tramping off down the lane. The big ferryboat had just made a journey. Three or four soldiers stood on the lawn of the inn, staring and jesting at the fugitives, without offering to help. The inn was closed, as it was now within prohibited hours.
"What's that?" cried a boatman, and "Shut up, you fool!" said a man near me to a yelping dog. Then the sound came again, this time from the direction of Chertsey, a muffled thud–the sound of a gun.
The fighting was beginning. Almost immediately unseen batteries across the river to our right, unseen because of the trees, took up the chorus, firing heavily one after the other. A woman screamed. Everyone stood arrested by the sudden stir of battle, near us and yet invisible to us. Nothing was to be seen save flat meadows, cows feeding unconcernedly for the most part, and silvery pollard willows motionless in the warm sunlight.
"The sojers'll stop 'em," said a woman beside me, doubtfully. A haziness rose over the treetops. (1898)
The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells
"Get under water!" I shouted, unheeded.
I faced about again, and rushed towards the approaching Martian, rushed right down the gravelly beach and headlong into the water. Others did the same. A boatload of people putting back came leaping out as I rushed past. The stones under my feet were muddy and slippery, and the river was so low that I ran perhaps twenty feet scarcely waist-deep. Then, as the Martian towered overhead scarcely a couple of hundred yards away, I flung myself forward under the surface. The splashes of the people in the boats leaping into the river sounded like thunderclaps in my ears. People were landing hastily on both sides of the river. But the Martian machine took no more notice for the moment of the people running this way and that than a man would of the confusion of ants in a nest against which his foot has kicked. When, half suffocated, I raised my head above water, the Martian's hood pointed at the batteries that were still firing across the river, and as it advanced it swung loose what must have been the generator of the Heat-Ray.
In another moment it was on the bank, and in a stride wading halfway across. The knees of its foremost legs bent at the farther bank, and in another moment it had raised itself to its full height again, close to the village of Shepperton. Forthwith the six guns which, unknown to anyone on the right bank, had been hidden behind the outskirts of that village, fired simultaneously. The sudden near concussion, the last close upon the first, made my heart jump. The monster was already raising the case generating the Heat-Ray as the first shell burst six yards above the hood. (1898)
The Time Machine by H. G. Wells
The calm of evening was upon the world as I emerged from the great hall, and the scene was lit by the warm glow of the setting sun. At first things were very confusing. Everything was so entirely different from the world I had known–even the flowers. The big building I had left was situated on the slope of a broad river valley, but the Thames had shifted perhaps a mile from its present position. I resolved to mount to the summit of a crest, perhaps a mile and a half away, from which I could get a wider view of this our planet in the year Eight Hundred and Two Thousand Seven Hundred and One A.D. For that, I should explain, was the date the little dials of my machine recorded. (1898)
The Time Machine by H. G. Wells
There I found a seat of some yellow metal that I did not recognize, corroded in places with a kind of pinkish rust and half smothered in soft moss, the arm-rests cast and filed into the resemblance of griffins' heads. I sat down on it, and I surveyed the broad view of our old world under the sunset of that long day. It was as sweet and fair a view as I have ever seen. The sun had already gone below the horizon and the west was flaming gold, touched with some horizontal bars of purple and crimson. Below was the valley of the Thames, in which the river lay like a band of burnished steel. I have already spoken of the great palaces dotted about among the variegated greenery, some in ruins and some still occupied. Here and there rose a white or silvery figure in the waste garden of the earth, here and there came the sharp vertical line of some cupola or obelisk. There were no hedges, no signs of proprietary rights, no evidences of agriculture; the whole earth had become a garden. (1898)
The Time Machine by H. G. Wells
I must confess that my satisfaction with my first theories of an automatic civilization and a decadent humanity did not long endure. Yet I could think of no other. Let me put my difficulties. The several big palaces I had explored were mere living places, great dining-halls and sleeping apartments. I could find no machinery, no appliances of any kind. Yet these people were clothed in pleasant fabrics that must at times need renewal, and their sandals, though undecorated, were fairly complex specimens of metalwork. Somehow such things must be made. And the little people displayed no vestige of a creative tendency. There were no shops, no workshops, no sign of importations among them. They spent all their time in playing gently, in bathing in the river, in making love in a half-playful fashion, in eating fruit and sleeping. I could not see how things were kept going. (1898)
The Time Machine by H. G. Wells
About eight or nine in the morning I came to the same seat of yellow metal from which I had viewed the world upon the evening of my arrival. I thought of my hasty conclusions upon that evening and could not refrain from laughing bitterly at my confidence. Here was the same beautiful scene, the same abundant foliage, the same splendid palaces and magnificent ruins, the same silver river running between its fertile banks. The gay robes of the beautiful people moved hither and thither among the trees. Some were bathing in exactly the place where I had saved Weena, and that suddenly gave me a keen stab of pain. And like blots upon the landscape rose the cupolas above the ways to the Under-world. I understood now what all the beauty of the Over-world people covered. Very pleasant was their day, as pleasant as the day of the cattle in the field. Like the cattle, they knew of no enemies and provided against no needs. And their end was the same. (1898)
David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
'Yon's our house, Mas'r Davy!'
I looked in all directions, as far as I could stare over the wilderness, and away at the sea, and away at the river, but no house could I make out. There was a black barge, or some other kind of superannuated boat, not far off, high and dry on the ground, with an iron funnel sticking out of it for a chimney and smoking very cosily; but nothing else in the way of a habitation that was visible to me.
'That's not it?' said I. 'That ship-looking thing?'
'That's it, Mas'r Davy,' returned Ham. (1850)
Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne
The railway, on leaving Benares, passed for a while along the valley of the Ganges. Through the windows of their carriage the travellers had glimpses of the diversified landscape of Behar, with its mountains clothed in verdure, its fields of barley, wheat, and corn, its jungles peopled with green alligators, its neat villages, and its still thickly-leaved forests. Elephants were bathing in the waters of the sacred river, and groups of Indians, despite the advanced season and chilly air, were performing solemnly their pious ablutions. These were fervent Brahmins, the bitterest foes of Buddhism, their deities being Vishnu, the solar god, Shiva, the divine impersonation of natural forces, and Brahma, the supreme ruler of priests and legislators. What would these divinities think of India, anglicised as it is to-day, with steamers whistling and scudding along the Ganges, frightening the gulls which float upon its surface, the turtles swarming along its banks, and the faithful dwelling upon its borders? (1873)
Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne
About noon Mudge perceived by certain landmarks that he was crossing the Platte River. He said nothing, but he felt certain that he was now within twenty miles of Omaha. In less than an hour he left the rudder and furled his sails, whilst the sledge, carried forward by the great impetus the wind had given it, went on half a mile further with its sails unspread.
It stopped at last, and Mudge, pointing to a mass of roofs white with snow, said: "We have got there!" (1873)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
A thousand lives seemed to be concentrated in that one moment to Eliza. Her room opened by a side door to the river. She caught her child, and sprang down the steps towards it. The trader caught a full glimpse of her just as she was disappearing down the bank; and throwing himself from his horse, and calling loudly on Sam and Andy, he was after her like a hound after a deer. In that dizzy moment her feet to her scarce seemed to touch the ground, and a moment brought her to the water's edge. Right on behind they came; and, nerved with strength such as God gives only to the desperate, with one wild cry and flying leap, she vaulted sheer over the turbid current by the shore, on to the raft of ice beyond. It was a desperate leap–impossible to anything but madness and despair; and Haley, Sam, and Andy, instinctively cried out, and lifted up their hands, as she did it.
The huge green fragment of ice on which she alighted pitched and creaked as her weight came on it, but she staid there not a moment. With wild cries and desperate energy she leaped to another and still another cake; stumbling–leaping–slipping–springing upwards again! Her shoes are gone–her stockings cut from her feet–while blood marked every step; but she saw nothing, felt nothing, till dimly, as in a dream, she saw the Ohio side, and a man helping her up the bank.
"Yer a brave gal, now, whoever ye ar!" said the man, with an oath. (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
"Wal, Missis, de Lord he persarves his own. Lizy's done gone over the river into 'Hio, as 'markably as if de Lord took her over in a charrit of fire and two hosses." (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and turbulent; great cakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and fro in the turbid waters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore on the Kentucky side, the land bending far out into the water, the ice had been lodged and detained in great quantities, and the narrow channel which swept round the bend was full of ice, piled one cake over another, thus forming a temporary barrier to the descending ice, which lodged, and formed a great, undulating raft, filling up the whole river, and extending almost to the Kentucky shore.
Eliza stood, for a moment, contemplating this unfavorable aspect of things, which she saw at once must prevent the usual ferry-boat from running, and then turned into a small public house on the bank, to make a few inquiries. (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Eliza made her desperate retreat across the river just in the dusk of twilight. The gray mist of evening, rising slowly from the river, enveloped her as she disappeared up the bank, and the swollen current and floundering masses of ice presented a hopeless barrier between her and her pursuer. Haley therefore slowly and discontentedly returned to the little tavern, to ponder further what was to be done. (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
"We must cross the river tonight, no mistake," said Tom.
"But there's no boat about," said Marks. "The ice is running awfully, Tom; an't it dangerous?"
"Don'no nothing 'bout that,–only it's got to be done," said Tom, decidedly. (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
The La Belle Riviere, as brave and beautiful a boat as ever walked the waters of her namesake river, was floating gayly down the stream, under a brilliant sky, the stripes and stars of free America waving and fluttering over head; the guards crowded with well-dressed ladies and gentlemen walking and enjoying the delightful day. All was full of life, buoyant and rejoicing;–all but Haley's gang, who were stored, with other freight, on the lower deck, and who, somehow, did not seem to appreciate their various privileges, as they sat in a knot, talking to each other in low tones.
"Boys," said Haley, coming up, briskly, "I hope you keep up good heart, and are cheerful. Now, no sulks, ye see; keep stiff upper lip, boys; do well by me, and I'll do well by you." (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
At midnight, Tom waked, with a sudden start. Something black passed quickly by him to the side of the boat, and he heard a splash in the water. No one else saw or heard anything. He raised his head,–the woman's place was vacant! He got up, and sought about him in vain. The poor bleeding heart was still, at last, and the river rippled and dimpled just as brightly as if it had not closed above it. (1852 )
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
The Mississippi! How, as by an enchanted wand, have its scenes been changed, since Chateaubriand wrote his prose-poetic description of it, as a river of mighty, unbroken solitudes, rolling amid undreamed wonders of vegetable and animal existence. (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
But as in an hour, this river of dreams and wild romance has emerged to a reality scarcely less visionary and splendid. What other river of the world bears on its bosom to the ocean the wealth and enterprise of such another country?–a country whose products embrace all between the tropics and the poles! Those turbid waters, hurrying, foaming, tearing along, an apt resemblance of that headlong tide of business which is poured along its wave by a race more vehement and energetic than any the old world ever saw. Ah! would that they did not also bear along a more fearful freight,–the tears of the oppressed, the sighs of the helpless, the bitter prayers of poor, ignorant hearts to an unknown God–unknown, unseen and silent, but who will yet "come out of his place to save all the poor of the earth!" (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
The slanting light of the setting sun quivers on the sea-like expanse of the river; the shivery canes, and the tall, dark cypress, hung with wreaths of dark, funereal moss, glow in the golden ray, as the heavily-laden steamboat marches onward. (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
The boat moved on,–freighted with its weight of sorrow,–up the red, muddy, turbid current, through the abrupt tortuous windings of the Red river; and sad eyes gazed wearily on the steep red-clay banks, as they glided by in dreary sameness. At last the boat stopped at a small town, and Legree, with his party, disembarked. (1852)
Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe
When they arrived at the Mississippi river, George, having learned that the course of the strange lady was upward, like his own, proposed to take a state-room for her on the same boat with himself,–good-naturedly compassionating her feeble health, and desirous to do what he could to assist her.
Behold, therefore, the whole party safely transferred to the good steamer Cincinnati, and sweeping up the river under a powerful head of steam. (1852)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Laurie had vanished round the bend, Jo was just at the turn, and Amy, far behind, striking out toward the smoother ice in the middle of the river. For a minute Jo stood still with a strange feeling in her heart, then she resolved to go on, but something held and turned her round, just in time to see Amy throw up her hands and go down, with a sudden crash of rotten ice, the splash of water, and a cry that made Jo's heart stand still with fear. She tried to call Laurie, but her voice was gone. She tried to rush forward, but her feet seemed to have no strength in them, and for a second, she could only stand motionless, staring with a terror-stricken face at the little blue hood above the black water. Something rushed swiftly by her, and Laurie's voice cried out...
"Bring a rail. Quick, quick!"
How she did it, she never knew, but for the next few minutes she worked as if possessed, blindly obeying Laurie, who was quite self-possessed, and lying flat, held Amy up by his arm and hockey stick till Jo dragged a rail from the fence, and together they got the child out, more frightened than hurt. (1869)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
After this Amy subsided, till a mania for sketching from nature set her to haunting river, field, and wood, for picturesque studies, and sighing for ruins to copy. She caught endless colds sitting on damp grass to book 'a delicious bit', composed of a stone, a stump, one mushroom, and a broken mullein stalk, or 'a heavenly mass of clouds', that looked like a choice display of featherbeds when done. She sacrificed her complexion floating on the river in the midsummer sun to study light and shade, and got a wrinkle over her nose trying after 'points of sight', or whatever the squint-and-string performance is called. (1869)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
An impromptu circus, fox and geese, and an amicable game of croquet finished the afternoon. At sunset the tent was struck, hampers packed, wickets pulled up, boats loaded, and the whole party floated down the river, singing at the tops of their voices. Ned, getting sentimental, warbled a serenade with the pensive refrain... (1869)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Jo pointed, and Laurie sat up to examine, for through an opening in the wood one could look cross the wide, blue river, the meadows on the other side, far over the outskirts of the great city, to the green hills that rose to meet the sky. The sun was low, and the heavens glowed with the splendor of an autumn sunset. Gold and purple clouds lay on the hilltops, and rising high into the ruddy light were silvery white peaks that shone like the airy spires of some Celestial City.
"How beautiful that is!" said Laurie softly, for he was quick to see and feel beauty of any kind. (1869)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
The sail up the Rhine was perfect, and I just sat and enjoyed it with all my might. Get Father's old guidebooks and read about it. I haven't words beautiful enough to describe it. At Coblentz we had a lovely time, for some students from Bonn, with whom Fred got acquainted on the boat, gave us a serenade. It was a moonlight night, and about one o'clock Flo and I were waked by the most delicious music under our windows. We flew up, and hid behind the curtains, but sly peeps showed us Fred and the students singing away down below. It was the most romantic thing I ever saw–the river, the bridge of boats, the great fortress opposite, moonlight everywhere, and music fit to melt a heart of stone. (1869)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
MY BETH
Sitting patient in the shadow
Till the blessed light shall
come,
A serene and saintly presence
Sanctifies our
troubled home.
Earthly joys and hopes and sorrows
Break
like ripples on the strand
Of the deep and solemn river
Where her willing feet now stand. (1869)
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
"And then, what do you say to the good Cirongilio of Thrace, that was so stout and bold; as may be seen in the book, where it is related that as he was sailing along a river there came up out of the midst of the water against him a fiery serpent, and he, as soon as he saw it, flung himself upon it and got astride of its scaly shoulders, and squeezed its throat with both hands with such force that the serpent, finding he was throttling it, had nothing for it but to let itself sink to the bottom of the river, carrying with it the knight who would not let go his hold; and when they got down there he found himself among palaces and gardens so pretty that it was a wonder to see; and then the serpent changed itself into an old ancient man, who told him such things as were never heard. Hold your peace, senor; for if you were to hear this you would go mad with delight. A couple of figs for your Great Captain and your Diego Garcia!"
Hearing this Dorothea said in a whisper to Cardenio, "Our landlord is almost fit to play a second part to Don Quixote." (1615)
Just So Stories - THE ELEPHANT'S CHILD by Rudyard Kipling
Then Kolokolo Bird said, with a mournful cry, 'Go to the banks of the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees, and find out.'
That very next morning, when there was nothing left of the Equinoxes, because the Precession had preceded according to precedent, this 'satiable Elephant's Child took a hundred pounds of bananas (the little short red kind), and a hundred pounds of sugar-cane (the long purple kind), and seventeen melons (the greeny-crackly kind), and said to all his dear families, 'Goodbye. I am going to the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees, to find out what the Crocodile has for dinner.' And they all spanked him once more for luck, though he asked them most politely to stop.
Then he went away, a little warm, but not at all astonished, eating melons, and throwing the rind about, because he could not pick it up. (1902)
The Canterbury Tales and Other Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer
A garden saw I, full of blossom'd boughes,
Upon a
river, in a greene mead,
Where as sweetness evermore enow is,
With flowers white, blue, yellow, and red,
And colde welle
streames, nothing dead,
That swamme full of smalle fishes
light,
With finnes red, and scales silver bright.
On ev'ry bough the birdes heard I sing,
With voice
of angels in their harmony,
That busied them their birdes
forth to bring;
The pretty conies to their play gan hie;
And further all about I gan espy
The dreadful roe, the
buck, the hart, and hind,
Squirrels, and beastes small, of
gentle kind.
Of instruments of stringes in accord
Heard I so play a
ravishing sweetness,
That God, that Maker is of all and Lord,
Ne hearde never better, as I guess:
Therewith a wind,
unneth it might be less,
Made in the leaves green a noise
soft,
Accordant the fowles' song on loft.
(139?)
Tess of the d'Urbervilles: A Pure Woman by Thomas Hardy
The bird's-eye perspective before her was not so luxuriantly beautiful, perhaps, as that other one which she knew so well; yet it was more cheering. It lacked the intensely blue atmosphere of the rival vale, and its heavy soils and scents; the new air was clear, bracing, ethereal. The river itself, which nourished the grass and cows of these renowned dairies, flowed not like the streams in Blackmoor. Those were slow, silent, often turbid; flowing over beds of mud into which the incautious wader might sink and vanish unawares. The Froom waters were clear as the pure River of Life shown to the Evangelist, rapid as the shadow of a cloud, with pebbly shallows that prattled to the sky all day long. There the water-flower was the lily; the crow-foot here. (1891)
Tess of the d'Urbervilles: A Pure Woman by Thomas Hardy
The dull sky soon began to tell its meaning by sending down herald-drops of rain, and the stagnant air of the day changed into a fitful breeze which played about their faces. The quick-silvery glaze on the rivers and pools vanished; from broad mirrors of light they changed to lustreless sheets of lead, with a surface like a rasp. But that spectacle did not affect her preoccupation. Her countenance, a natural carnation slightly embrowned by the season, had deepened its tinge with the beating of the rain-drops; and her hair, which the pressure of the cows' flanks had, as usual, caused to tumble down from its fastenings and stray beyond the curtain of her calico bonnet, was made clammy by the moisture, till it hardly was better than seaweed.
"I ought not to have come, I suppose," she murmured, looking at the sky.
"I am sorry for the rain," said he. "But how glad I am to have you here!" (1891)
Tess of the d'Urbervilles: A Pure Woman by Thomas Hardy
Men were at work here and there–for it was the season for "taking up" the meadows, or digging the little waterways clear for the winter irrigation, and mending their banks where trodden down by the cows. The shovelfuls of loam, black as jet, brought there by the river when it was as wide as the whole valley, were an essence of soils, pounded champaigns of the past, steeped, refined, and subtilized to extraordinary richness, out of which came all the fertility of the mead, and of the cattle grazing there.
Clare hardily kept his arm round her waist in sight of these watermen, with the air of a man who was accustomed to public dalliance, though actually as shy as she who, with lips parted and eyes askance on the labourers, wore the look of a wary animal the while.
"You are not ashamed of owning me as yours before them!" she said gladly.
"O no!"
"But if it should reach the ears of your friends at Emminster that you are walking about like this with me, a milkmaid–" (1891)
Tess of the d'Urbervilles: A Pure Woman by Thomas Hardy
She could answer no more than a bare affirmative, so great was the emotion aroused in her at the thought of going through the world with him as his own familiar friend. Her feelings almost filled her ears like a babble of waves, and surged up to her eyes. She put her hand in his, and thus they went on, to a place where the reflected sun glared up from the river, under a bridge, with a molten-metallic glow that dazzled their eyes, though the sun itself was hidden by the bridge. They stood still, whereupon little furred and feathered heads popped up from the smooth surface of the water; but, finding that the disturbing presences had paused, and not passed by, they disappeared again. Upon this river-brink they lingered till the fog began to close round them–which was very early in the evening at this time of the year–settling on the lashes of her eyes, where it rested like crystals, and on his brows and hair. (1891)
Tess of the d'Urbervilles: A Pure Woman by Thomas Hardy
Its waters, in creeping down these miles of meadowland, frequently divided, serpentining in purposeless curves, looping themselves around little islands that had no name, returning and re-embodying themselves as a broad main stream further on. Opposite the spot to which he had brought her was such a general confluence, and the river was proportionately voluminous and deep. Across it was a narrow foot-bridge; but now the autumn flood had washed the handrail away, leaving the bare plank only, which, lying a few inches above the speeding current, formed a giddy pathway for even steady heads; and Tess had noticed from the window of the house in the day-time young men walking across upon it as a feat in balancing. Her husband had possibly observed the same performance; anyhow, he now mounted the plank, and, sliding one foot forward, advanced along it.
Was he going to drown her? Probably he was. The spot was lonely, the river deep and wide enough to make such a purpose easy of accomplishment. He might drown her if he would; it would be better than parting to-morrow to lead severed lives. (1891)
A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
TITANIA. These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain, or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea Contagious fogs; which, falling in the land, Hath every pelting river made so proud That they have overborne their continents. The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain, The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard; The fold stands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrion flock; The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud, And the quaint mazes in the wanton green, For lack of tread, are undistinguishable. The human mortals want their winter here; No night is now with hymn or carol blest; Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound. And thorough this distemperature we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose; And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which. And this same progeny of evils comes From our debate, from our dissension; We are their parents and original. (1596)
King Henry The Fourth Part 1 by William Shakespeare
Hotspur (Henry Percy):
Methinks my moiety, north
from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours.
See how this river comes me cranking in
And cuts me from the
best of all my land
A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
I'll have the current in this place damm'd up,
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
In a new
channel fair and evenly.
It shall not wind with such a deep
indent
To rob me of so rich a bottom here.
(1598)
The Thames of Henry Taunt by Henry Taunt
LAYS OF A LAZY MINSTREL
A Streatley Sonata
Ah! Here I am! I've drifted down -
The sun is hot,
my face is brown -
Before the wind from Moulsford town,
So pleasantly and fleetly!
I am not certain what's
o'clock,
And so I won't go through the lock;
But wisely steer the Shuttlecock
Beside the
'Swan' at Streatley!
But from the Hill, I understand
You gaze across rich
pasture-land;
And fancy you see Oxford and
P'raps Wallingford and Wheatley:
Upon the winding
Thames you gaze,
And, though the view's beyond all
praise,
I'd rather much sit here and laze
Than
scale the Hill at Streatley!
And when you're here, I'm told that you
Should mount the Hill and see the view;
And gaze and wonder,
if you'd do
Its merits most completely:
The
air is clear, the day is fine,
The prospect is, I know, divine
-
But most distinctly I decline
To climb the Hill at
Streatley!
I sit and lounge here on the grass,
And watch the river
traffic pass;
I note a dimpled, fair young lass,
Who
feathers low and neatly:
Her hands are brown, her eyes are
grey,
And trim her nautical array -
Alas! she swiftly
sculls away,
And leaves the 'Swan' at
Streatley!
(1872 (extract from 1989 edition))
The Thames of Henry Taunt by Henry Taunt
Oxford is, more often than any other place, the starting-point for
a long Thames trip, and is one of the best places for that purpose,
as every convenience is there to be met with.
Dean Stanley speaks of Oxford as a mass of towers, pinnacles, and
spires, rising from the bosom of a valley, from groves which hide all
buildings but such as are consecrated to some wise and holy purpose;
and it is perhaps - if a day can be spared - a wise plan to run down
by rail and spend it here, among the beautiful specimens of
collegiate architecture which give a semi-ecclesiastical air to the
city; a trip which will be more than repaid by the pleasure which
will be derived from the visit; and as Oxford is one of the most
noted spots on the river, not to have seen it is to have missed a
huge treat.
Information of every description required, guide books, guides,
photographs, or letterpress views, can be readily obtained from Henry
W. Taunt & Co.'s well-known establishment, 9 and 10,
Broad Street, Oxford; the proprietors of which lay themselves out to
furnish strangers to the city with any needed help.
Oxford is connected with London by two railway lines: the Great
Western from Paddington (63 miles; fares 11s., 8s. \d., and Par. 5s.
3d.), on which run the best fast trains; and the London and
North-Western from Euston Station (78 miles; fares as from
Paddington). The stations for both lines are close together at the
bottom of Park End Street, cabs and 'buses meet each train,
and a new line of tramways from just outside each railway station
leads up the main streets of the City.
The Post Office is a fine new building in St Aldate's
Street (leading to Folly Bridge and the river), where letters can be
posted for London till 12 midnight, the office being open for
inquiries, etc., on week days from 6.30 a.m. till 10 p.m., and on
Sundays from 7 a.m. till 10 a.m.
(1872 (extract from 1989 edition))
The Thames of Henry Taunt by Henry Taunt
There has been much discussion as to which should be considered
the head waters of the Thames, whether this or the Churn, rising at
Seven Springs, near Cheltenham; also on the question whether the
river should be called Thames or Isis on its upper part, before
joining the Thame near Dorchester.
Without entering deeply into this matter, we would call attention
to the fact that these Cotswold springs rising near Coates have been
called Thames Head, and the stream formed by them the Thames, from
time immemorial, whereas the other head is called the Seven Springs,
and the stream issuing from it the Churn. Moreover, the stream from
Thames Head is considerably larger than the Churn where their waters
unite at Cricklade; and this is even more apparent in times of flood,
when the engine at Thames Head is still. As to the name, old records
at Oxford and far above call it Thames, and surely a river rising at
'Thames Head' ought not to change its name into the
classic Isis, and afterwards re-assume its patronymic of Thames. The
Thame at the junction is a rivulet compared with the Thames: indeed,
it is so small that the mouth is often overlooked by oarsmen passing
up the parent stream, even though on the look out for it.
(1872 (extract from 1989 edition))
The Thames of Henry Taunt by Henry Taunt
One of the best modes of reaching Cricklade is by rail to Lechlade
(GWR), sending the boat to that station by carriage truck; the agent
to the company will deliver the boat at Lechlade Wharf at a cost of
2s.; then rowing up to Inglesham Round House, and paying the toll
(10s.), pass on to the canal through the Inglesham Lock (fall varies
from 6 ft to 4 ft according to height of river). Six furlongs on is
Dudgrove Double Lock, with its fall of 11 ft 6 in altogether, and
then passing Kempsford it is 5½ miles to Eisey Lock (fall between 6
and 7 ft). The old lock-keeper will help through the first two locks,
but a winch will be required at Eisey, there being no lock-keeper. In
another mile and a half Cricklade Wharf is reached, and here, with
the help of the wharfman, the boat can be carried across the road and
lowered into the Churn, which runs by its side; then passing under
the road bridge, a short distance brings us into the Thames a few
yards above Rose Cottage, the owner of which is kind enough to allow
boats to be left there.
Leaving Rose Cottage, we pass under a curious plank bridge, just
above which baptisms in the river used to be solemnized, a ceremony
which has not taken place here for a number of years.
The river has been by the Thames Commissioners thoroughly dredged
and cleaned out from some distance above Cricklade right down to
Inglesham; the flams* and shallows removed, so that now, in fair
water time, it forms a continuous stream of something like 30 ft wide
and 3 ft in depth. But this must not be taken to mean that the depth
of water will always be found. On the contrary, the removal of the
weeds and flams in all probability will, during short water time,
allow the stream to waste so fast as to leave little to float even
the shallowest draught of boat, and as far as oarsmen are concerned,
effectually cut them off the river above Inglesham whenever the water
is low, as the flams and rushes did in past summers.
- - misprint, dams?
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
There is something very strange and unaccountable about a
tow-line. You roll it up with as much patience and care as you would
take to fold up a new pair of trousers, and five minutes afterwards,
when you pick it up, it is one ghastly, soul-revolting tangle.
I do not wish to be insulting, but I firmly believe that if you
took an average tow-line, and stretched it out straight across the
middle of a field, and then turned your back on it for thirty
seconds, that, when you looked round again, you would find that it
had got itself altogether in a heap in the middle of the field, and
had twisted itself up, and tied itself into knots, and lost its two
ends, and become all loops; and it would take you a good half-hour,
sitting down there on the grass and swearing all the while, to
disentangle it again.
That is my opinion of tow-lines in general. Of course, there may be honourable exceptions; I do not say that there are not. There may be tow-lines that are a credit to their profession—conscientious, respectable tow-lines—tow-lines that do not imagine they are crochet-work, and try to knit themselves up into antimacassars the instant they are left to themselves. I say there _may_ be such tow-lines; I sincerely hope there are. But I have not met with them. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
He and three other men, so he said, were sculling a very heavily
laden boat up from Maidenhead one evening, and a little above Cookham
lock they noticed a fellow and a girl, walking along the towpath,
both deep in an apparently interesting and absorbing conversation.
They were carrying a boat-hook between them, and, attached to the
boat-hook was a tow-line, which trailed behind them, its end in the
water. No boat was near, no boat was in sight. There must have been a
boat attached to that tow-line at some time or other, that was
certain; but what had become of it, what ghastly fate had overtaken
it, and those who had been left in it, was buried in mystery.
Whatever the accident may have been, however, it had in no way
disturbed the young lady and gentleman, who were towing. They had the
boat-hook and they had the line, and that seemed to be all that they
thought necessary to their work.
George was about to call out and wake them up, but, at that
moment, a bright idea flashed across him, and he didn’t. He got the
hitcher instead, and reached over, and drew in the end of the
tow-line; and they made a loop in it, and put it over their mast, and
then they tidied up the sculls, and went and sat down in the stern,
and lit their pipes.
And that young man and young woman towed those four hulking chaps
and heavy boat up to Marlow.
George said he never saw so much thoughtful sadness concentrated
into one glance before, as when, at the lock, that young couple
grasped the idea that, for the last two miles, they had been towing
the wrong boat. George fancied that, if it had not been for the
restraining influence of the sweet woman at his side, the young man
might have given way to violent language.
The maiden was the first to recover from her surprise, and, when
she did, she clasped her hands, and said, wildly: 'Oh,
Henry, then _where_ is auntie?'
'Did they ever recover the old lady?' asked
Harris. George replied he did not know.
(1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Of all experiences in connection with towing, the most exciting is
being towed by girls. It is a sensation that nobody ought to miss. It
takes three girls to tow always; two hold the rope, and the other one
runs round and round, and giggles. They generally begin by getting
themselves tied up. They get the line round their legs, and have to
sit down on the path and undo each other, and then they twist it
round their necks, and are nearly strangled. They fix it straight,
however, at last, and start off at a run, pulling the boat along at
quite a dangerous pace. At the end of a hundred yards they are
naturally breathless, and suddenly stop, and all sit down on the
grass and laugh, and your boat drifts out to mid-stream and turns
round, before you know what has happened, or can get hold of a scull.
Then they stand up, and are surprised.
“Oh, look!” they say; “he’s gone right out into the middle.” (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
“Well, who’s going to be first in?” said Harris at last.
There was no rush for precedence. George settled the matter so far
as he was concerned by retiring into the boat and pulling on his
socks. Montmorency gave vent to an involuntary howl, as if merely
thinking of the thing had given him the horrors; and Harris said it
would be so difficult to get into the boat again, and went back and
sorted out his trousers.
I did not altogether like to give in, though I did not relish the
lunge. There might be snags about, or weeds, I thought. I meant to
compromise matters by going down to the edge and just throwing the
water over myself; so I took a towel and crept out on the bank and
wormed my way along on to the branch of a tree that dipped down into
the water.
It was bitterly cold. The wind cut like a knife. I thought I would
not throw the water over myself after all. I would go back into the
boat and dress; and I turned to do so; and, as I turned, the silly
branch gave way, and I and the towel went in together with a
tremendous splash, and I was out mid-stream with a gallon of Thames
water inside me before I knew what had happened.
“By Jove! old J.’s gone in,” I heard Harris say, as I came
blowing to the surface. “I didn’t think he’d have the pluck to
do it. Did you?”
“Is it all right?” sung out George.
“Lovely,” I spluttered back. “You are duffers not to come
in. I wouldn’t have missed this for worlds. Why won’t you try it?
It only wants a little determination.”
But I could not persuade them. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Rather an amusing thing happened while dressing that morning. I
was very cold when I got back into the boat, and, in my hurry to get
my shirt on, I accidentally jerked it into the water. It made me
awfully wild, especially as George burst out laughing. I could not
see anything to laugh at, and I told George so, and he only laughed
the more. I never saw a man laugh so much. I quite lost my temper
with him at last, and I pointed out to him what a drivelling maniac
of an imbecile idiot he was; but he only roared the louder. And then,
just as I was landing the shirt, I noticed that it was not my shirt
at all, but George’s, which I had mistaken for mine; whereupon the
humour of the thing struck me for the first time, and I began to
laugh. And the more I looked from George’s wet shirt to George,
roaring with laughter, the more I was amused, and I laughed so much
that I had to let the shirt fall back into the water again.
“Aren’t you—you—going to get it out?” said George,
between his shrieks.
I could not answer him at all for a while, I was laughing so, but,
at last, between my peals I managed to jerk out:
“It isn’t my shirt—it’s yours!”
I never saw a man’s face change from lively to severe so
suddenly in all my life before.
“What!” he yelled, springing up. “You silly cuckoo! Why
can’t you be more careful what you’re doing? Why the deuce
don’t you go and dress on the bank? You’re not fit to be in a
boat, you’re not. Gimme the hitcher.”
I tried to make him see the fun of the thing, but he could not. George is very dense at seeing a joke sometimes. (1889)
A Boater's Guide to Boating by Chris N. Deuchar
Firstly, it is generally agreed (although some disagree) that they are called winding holes (i.e. as in the blowing thing, rather than the twisting thing) because boatmen, in horse drawn days, used the wind to help blow their boats round. This is an eminently sensible thing for us, even with engine assistance, to continue to do - regardless of the origin or pronunciation of the word. (1997)
The Flower of Gloster by E. Temple Thurston
These things are easily said. It is the devil and all to
accomplish them. Everyone I knew, I asked. "Where can I get
a barge?"
It was a foolish question to make, and one to which, as often as
not, I received the foolish reply, "What for?"
What in the name of Heaven could one want a barge for, unless it were in which to travel on those waters where all barges may be found? Out of its element, doubtless, it is the ugliest thing the hand of man ever created; but sinking low in the still waters of those silent canals, its blunt, good-natured nose thrusting the long ripples to either side, travelling from one old town to another with its happy-go-lucky two and three miles an hour, it is the most wonderful vehicle in the world. (1911)
The Flower of Gloster by E. Temple Thurston
"There's a barge at Oxford" he informed
me. "She used to be on the Thames and Severn Canal —
carried stone — wood sometimes. She's just been done up at
Braunston and brought along there. If you went down there at once and
saw the owner, he might hire her to you for a couple of months, and
make a bit out of it himself."
"What's her name ?" said I.
"The Flower of Gloster"
Now when he said that, then I knew she was mine. The Flower of
Gloster! The name alone would have disinfected her of all the
disagreeable odours in the world.
(1911)
Invictus by William Ernest Henley
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with
punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am
the captain of my soul. (1875)
The Day of Creation by J. G. Ballard
Capped by the crowns of mist, the green walls of the valley slid past us. During the following days the landscape had changed, and the rain-forest of the equatorial hills gave way to the flatter ground of the savanna. Some twenty miles from Port-la-Nouvelle the last of the great softwoods fell away behind us, and the banks were crowded with smaller trees, flowering shrubs, desert lavender and magnolia. The river was wider here, almost two hundred yards from one bank to the other. Sometimes it divided to embrace a narrow island, and then seemed to wander in long curves, as if aware that my own imagination had flagged. Frequently we were halted by floating barriers of sudd, a water plant like small polyanthus with long trailing roots that fouled the propeller. (1987)
A Caravan Afloat by C. J. Aubertin
Here, where the embankment carrying the canal leaves the side of the glen, we moor beneath an ash, with the wooded hillside above us and the open vale below, and when the summer twilight has deepened into darkness and the stars shine out with a brilliance unknown to the city sky we sit beneath our awning and drink in the multitudinous silence of the night—the sudden squawk of the startled bird, the patient gnawing of the watervole at his reed, the hooting of the silent-winged owl, and below us in the glade the tinkle of the tumbling rill. Then round the curve there comes into our ken the pad, pad, pad of a straining horse. The boat sinks almost imperceptibly, and anon rises again. The rushes rustle in unison and bow their heads towards the approaching sound as if before a ghostly wind. It is the suction of the oncoming barge; and never a real distinguishable sound except the horse's footfall until the cheery good-night of the bargees breaks the spell and warns us that it is time to exchange the chill of the summer dew for the comforts of the fireside awaiting us within. (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C. J. Aubertin
The silence of the moving barge is one of the most noticeable features of life on the waterside. Often when lying awake at night I have heard the horse's footfall and felt our mooring ropes tighten and relax under the movement of the displaced water. But the passing of the seventy feet or so of barge—a few inches, perhaps, from our open windows— has been quite inaudible. Once we left at home an important part of our equipment, and lo ! a miracle— two mornings later it was lying on our roof. It had come by post to our point of departure, and thence by the friendly conveyance of a ship that passed in the night. Of its arrival we heard nothing, nor do we know to this day whom we have to thank for the courtesy. (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C. J. Aubertin
As for myself I bathed in the river and dressed on the bank; the lady stayed within her bower. I constantly expatiated on the beauties of the early morn and on one occasion even went so far as to hang a looking glass invitingly upon a tree, thinking thereby to ease the trials of the more lengthy part of the feminine toilet. I pointed out that the only creatures in sight were of her own sex - cows, to wit - but all my efforts were in vain. (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C. J. Aubertin
Let us take a stroll together—not down Fleet Street, but into the countryside. A bridlepath across an undulating field leads us to a steep and narrow bridge which spans nine feet of chocolate coloured water and a cinder-spread towing path. It is the canal, once one of the main highways of the nation's traffic, now an abode of rural peace. Let us rest awhile on the parapet this warm October day and look about us. To right and left winds the waterway in graceful curves—-on one side a wooded bank, on the other a narrow path bounded by a well-trimmed hedge, beyond which the land drops away to a brook meandering among green water meadows. In the canal itself the summer's growth of rushes has not yet been cut and has usurped some feet of the already narrow channel. Beneath us cows have made a drinking place and have pushed forward beyond the line of rushes a rounded cape of sloshy mud, from which, their thirst assuaged, they extricate themselves with many a heave and snort. Fifty yards away on the water's edge stands a heron—one-legged, motionless—with head poised at such an angle that we know he is on the lookout for any suspicious movement on our part. (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C. J. Aubertin
It may be that we have snatched an hour from a day of toil in
order to take our little stroll; it may be that we are night workers
enjoying a brief spell of daylight to fortify us for a
night's toil under the glare of electric lamps. Whatever we
are we envy that boatman and his family their 'dolce far
niente'* life. But with him it is not so. To his mind he is
the downtrodden worker, you the capitalist; he one of the props of
the nation, you a specimen of the lazy rich. You, in short—and at
last we have it—are a gongoozler—an idle and inquisitive person,
with nothing to do, and probably with no need to do anything, except
to stand and gaze for a prolonged period at anything—even a canal
barge—the least bit out of the common.
- An old Italian expression: "sweet doing nothing" or delicious idleness.
Bradshaw's Canals and Navigable Rivers of England & Wales by Henry Rodolph de Salis
In a paper on the past and present condition of the River Thames read before the Institution of Civil Engineers, January, 1856, by Mr. Henry Robinson (Minutes of Proceedings, Inst. C. E., vol. 15, p. 198), we read :— "The traffic on the Upper Thames was in the last century principally conducted by large barges carrying as much as 200 tons each, and hauled against the stream by 12 or 14 horses, or 50 or 80 men; these men were usually of the worst possible character, and a terror to the whole neighbourhood of the river." (1904 (2012 Old House reprint))
Bradshaw's Canals and Navigable Rivers of England & Wales by Henry Rodolph de Salis
Constable's picture of "Flatford Mill" in the National Gallery gives an excellent representation of the lighters in use on the River Stour. (1904 (2012 Old House reprint))
Bradshaw's Canals and Navigable Rivers of England & Wales by Henry Rodolph de Salis
Horses are sometimes ferried over on the boat or barge itself, as
on the River Trent and River Stour (Suffolk). The latter river is the
only navigation remaining in the country where the old system of
transferring the horses from one side of the river to the other on
the vessels themselves, without stopping them, is still in use. The
system may be worth describing as a relic of times gone by, and as
being one which requires special training of the horses.
The
traffic on this river is conducted by lighters of a type closely
resembling the Fen lighters of the Bedford Level, being about 47ft.
long and 10ft. 9in. beam. They always travel in pairs, chained
together one behind the other; the fore end of the fore lighter has a
deck sufficiently large to afford standing room for the horse; wood
strips are fastened to the deck both fore and aft and across it, and
a covering of litter is placed on the top to afford foothold. At the
point of the towing-path crossing the river two piers or jetties are
built out, one from each bank, constructed so as to give deep water
alongside their extremities, but they are not placed opposite each
other, one always being some few yards further up or down stream than
the other. When a crossing has to be made, the towing-line is cast
off on approaching the first pier and the horse is walked to the pier
head, the lighters are steered alongside the pier head, and as they
pass the horse jumps on to the fore end of the fore lighter, the
lighters are then steered sharp over to the pier on the opposite side
of the river, on passing which the horse jumps out ready to resume
work. (1904 (2012 Old House reprint))
Bradshaw's Canals and Navigable Rivers of England & Wales by Henry Rodolph de Salis
The following are about the average speeds attained by a narrow or
monkey boat hauled by a horse in a narrow boat canal in fair order
:—
1 narrow boat loaded, hauled by one horse, about 2 miles per hour.
1 narrow boat empty, hauled by one horse, about 3 miles per hour.
2 narrow boats loaded, hauled by one horse, about 1½ miles per
hour.
2 narrow boats empty, hauled by one horse, about 2½
miles per hour.
(1904 (2012 Old House reprint))
Bradshaw's Canals and Navigable Rivers of England & Wales by Henry Rodolph de Salis
A remarkable instance of road, canal, and railway, on three different levels, is to be seen near Hanwell in Middlesex. Here the short aqueduct carrying the main line of the Grand Junction Canal over the Great Western Branch Railway from Southall to Brentford is also surmounted by the bridge carrying the high road from Greenford to Osterley Park. The three ways of communication make approximately angles of 60 degrees with each other at their point of crossing, and an imaginary plumb line could be drawn to intersect all of them. (1904 (2012 Old House reprint))
A Caravan Afloat by C. J. Aubertin
Your daydream is of Oxford at her best and bonniest—her grey towers embosomed in fresh verdure of early summer, the leafy Cher alive with punts and canoes, the sparkle of Isis water churned by the passage of many craft. You see yourself young, supple, lithe, trained as hard as nails, escorting to the Barges your sisters, your cousins, and your aunts in all the finery of their Eights' week toilettes. Perhaps—who knows?— your mind fixes on one particular frock—and the wearer of it—and, if the course of true love has run smooth, you wonder idly how many similar dresses she has cost you since. With her by your side you pass under the overhanging trees of the Broad Walk and ensconce her and hers, who shine with a reflected glory, on the deck of your college barge. (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C. J. Aubertin
The essential difference between a canal and a river is that a
river is always part of the scenery in England, while a canal as
often as not looks down on it from a hillside. The difference was
first discovered by the Admiral and the Admiral told it to me. .....
When the Admiral told me, of course I saw at once what the great
difference was, because I had some notion of how and why canals were
built, but when he showed me once at sun-rise from a canal which ran
along the edge of a fir wood two great counties stretched below us
beyond the towing path and the hanging meadow where the cows were
grazing on the dew-steeped grass, then I began to understand this
strange craze of his that he should build a barge and tour for ever
on the canals of England. (1916)
John Knill's Navy - Five Years on the Cut by Sir John Knill
Halfway up Hatton flight there used to be a lunatic asylum and there is a story of some of the inmates sitting on top of the wall roaring with laughter at the antics of the boatmen working their way up through the locks and telling them they ought to be inside with them! (1998)
John Knill's Navy - Five Years on the Cut by Sir John Knill
I have always been heartened and a little astonished by the
willingness of the majority of the boat people to help out when you
were down on your luck, as I most certainly was now. Canal boating in
the old style always seemed to be governed by the example of the Good
Samaritan. It did not seem to matter if the problem was a little one
or a big one; sheeting-up a perishable cargo like sugar or grain on
the sudden coming of a downpour of rain; starting up a recalcitrant
engine, even dismantling and rebuilding it; help through a lock if
you were short-handed; the lifting of a paddle; the closing of a lock
gate; all done with good humour and friendliness.
Then there was the friendly chat when another captain jumped on your counter as you gave him a lift to the next lock. There was always a friendly wave from the captain of a passing pair and an exchange of useful information: that the locks were all ready to the top of the next flight; to warn you that you only had one ready because a two-handed pair had passed them just above the next lock; occasionally, who had just had an addition, or married, or died. (1998)
John Knill's Navy - Five Years on the Cut by Sir John Knill
This (the Shropshire Union) is a really wonderful canal and on this second trip I was more able to appreciate the impressiveness of the engineering, the deep cuttings, the height of the embankments and above all, the directness of the line. There was the delightful corniced and balustraded bridge near Wheaton Aston. There were the high bridges in Woodseaves cutting; impressive singly, but two in line seem to accentuate even more Telford's genius. There was the charm of the little tunnel at Cowley, just 80 yards long, but with a towpath. We passed on, joining the Chester Canal Navigation at Nantwich Basin, then past Hurleston Junction, turning right at Barbridge Junction and tying up at Cholmondeston on the Middlewich Branch of the Shropshire Union Canal. We set off again the next morning along the Wardle Lock Branch of the Trent and Mersey Canal, to join the canal at Middlewich. We were now on the canal that Brindley had called the Grand Trunk, but these days it is normally referred to as the Trent and Mersey. It is unusual, some people think, for Brindley in that it is quite level for 17 miles from Middlewich. Even this pales into insignificance however, on reaching its end you turn into the Duke's Cut or Bridgewater at Waters Meeting and find that it has a pound 40 miles in length - unsurpassed on any British canal. (1998)
John Knill's Navy - Five Years on the Cut by Sir John Knill
Fast passenger boats used to operate along Telford's
improved canal. They were light-weight, built of wrought iron, and of
narrow beam with covered accommodation, similar to a modern bus in
layout. They were probably about 60 feet long and pulled by four or
possibly six horses. They worked on the principle of using the
primary wave. Telford's Birmingham canals were virtually
straight, shallow (able to accommodate craft with a draft of about
three feet six inches) and not over-wide, although wide enough to
allow two craft of seven foot beam to pass each other easily. A boat
passing along such a canal acts as a piston, pushing a wave perhaps 9
to 18 inches high in front of it. Starting off at a pace that would
be increased to a slow trot, the wave would be pushed ahead of the
boat; the horses would then be whipped to a gallop, which would jerk
the boat forward and lift it on to the primary wave, thereby
increasing the draught of the canal from three foot six to perhaps
four foot six inches or more at the wave as it moved along the canal.
The extra speed now achieved by the boat automatically increased the
speed of the wave, friction was thus reduced and the horses could
maintain a speed of perhaps 12 miles per hour to their first change,
which would probably be at the Junction already mentioned at Tipton.
The journey from Birmingham to Wolverhampton of 13½ miles could be
undertaken in between one and two hours, according to the conditions
and the number of changes.
A similar scheme was in operation between Bath (Darlington Wharf) and Bradford-on-Avon on the Kennet and Avon Canal. The Bath boats also had a string band on board, and light refreshments were served. The fare was 1s 6d and the journey time one hour for the nine miles. (1998)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
On our left the river wound through sunlit levels of pasture which glowed most richly green against the steep slopes of the Chase beyond, which were in deep shadow. These included Oakedge Park, Haywood Warren and the Satnall Hills, heights of bracken and ancient trees that have seen little change since Plantagenet and Tudor hunted the boar along their flanks. Below Colwich Lock an ancient labourer with long white side-whiskers, clad in a sky-blue overall jacket and trousers of buff corduroy buckled below the knee, was sitting at his cottage door enjoying the last of the evening sun, and waved cheerily as we passed by. (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
It was in this quiet, dim place that we moored for the night, awaking to see moted beams of sunlight glancing on the water through gaps in the network of branches, as through the clerestory windows of some cathedral nave. Between the boles of the trees we could see the river spanned by Essex Bridge, surely one of the most beautiful and least celebrated in England. It is a pack-horse bridge reminiscent of Hugh Clopton's bridge at Stratford, but executed in stone. To my mind it surpasses Clopton, even if due allowance be made for its more favoured and secluded setting. The impression of permanence and power conveyed by the massive cut-waters of the buttresses is perfectly counterbalanced by the graceful pitch of the arches, a curve which is subtly emphasized by the concentric string courses above them. Essex Bridge is an enduring memorial to the ability of the early masons to combine simplicity and utility of construction with beauty, a gift that was once as instinctive and unselfconscious as the poetry of country speech (see Wikpedia for photo etc). (1944)
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
There is a second bridge worthy of note at Great Haywood. It carries the towing path of the Trent and Mersey over the mouth of the canal to the Severn, the breadth of its single span being remarkable in a bridge of this type. The reason for this is not readily apparent, for it exceeds the combined width of the waterway and tow-path beneath by several feet. The line of the low balustrade is also unusual, for instead of following the curve of the arch in the customary manner, it consists of two slight reverse curves culminating in a pointed apex over the keystone. Whatever may have prompted the canal engineers so to depart from the orthodox will never be known, but the result is an arch so light in its flight from bank to bank, so airy and insubstantial that it might have been inspired by a Dulac fantasy. Beside this bridge, an ivy-covered warehouse crumbling to ruin, a dock filled with tall reeds, and a shuttered toll office no bigger than a garden tool-shed are all that make up this meeting-place of coast-to-coast waterways. It seemed typical of the remote and unassuming manner in which the canals make their way through the countryside that the village of Haywood, although only a quarter of a mile distant, had remained aloof from this important junction, as though unaware of its existence. It would have presented a very different aspect had it been chosen as the meeting-place of railways or of trunk roads. Green fields and tall trees whose beauty the canal enhances would have given place to blackened railway yards or petrol pumps and road-houses. But because the canal is a forgotten relic of a more leisured past, its banks are not considered " desirable building plots," and so remain the haunt of the coot and heron. (1944)
The Cotswold Canals Walk by Gerry Stewart
Roundhouses are unique to the Thames and Severn, and five were built, at Chalford, Coates, Cerney Wick, Marston Meysey and Inglesham, providing accommodation for lengthsmen. They consisted of three stories connected by a curving stairway built into the walls, the ground floor being stables and the first and second were living accommodation. Two had convex roofs, as here (at Chalford), while three, at locations where fresh water was not easily available, had inverted roofs to collect rainwater. (2000)
The Flower of Gloster by E. Temple Thurston
When you join the Thames and Severn Canal at Stroud, it is but twenty-eight miles and a few odd furlongs before you come to Inglesham, where the water of the canal joins the Isis and all signs of the tow-path are lost to you for ever. But those twenty-eight miles are worth a thousand for the wealth of their colour alone. (1911)
Wikipedia by Anon
The Foss Dyke, or Fossdyke, connects the River Trent at Torksey to Lincoln, the county town of Lincolnshire, and may be the oldest canal in England that is still in use. It is usually thought to have been built around 120 AD by the Romans, but there is no consensus among authors. It was refurbished in 1121, during the reign of King Henry I, and responsibility for its maintenance was transferred to the city of Lincoln by King James I. Improvements made in 1671 included a navigable sluice or lock at Torksey, and warehousing and wharves were built at Brayford Pool in the centre of Lincoln. ()
Maidens' Trip - A Wartime Adventure on the Grand Union Canal by Emma Smith
We awoke to the racketing of a gale, and by gale our day was
distinguished. There were no hills to break its fury. The wind tore
straight across flat fields and caught us broadside on. The boats,
poor empty shells, staggered against the bank and there were pinned
as helpless as butterflies on a board. Again and again we shafted
them out and whipped the engine up to its full speed. Again and yet
again they disobeyed us and obeyed the cruder strength that bore down
on them across the thorny hedges. By inches, by feet we struggled on,
keeping the bows of the Venus turned sideways across the cut into the
wind.
It was in emerging from a lock that the chief danger
lay, for the Venus then had had no time to get up a speed, and with
speed a resistance: with a weigh on, the propeller blades dug
themselves deeper down, rooting the boat more firmly in the water. In
addition, at the mouth of each lock the mud and stones were more
plentiful than anywhere else, and conspired with the evil wind to
catch us prisoner. (1948)
Maidens' Trip - A Wartime Adventure on the Grand Union Canal by Emma Smith
Quite suddenly the rain, still teeming down, was something from
which escape would be a pleasure.
'Well, I
don't know about that,' said Herbert.
'They've got some stuff on F. Wharf - they might
want to do you there. Better hang around a bit and see.'
So we hung around and watched while Sam Stevens' boats
were loaded down with snaky-thin steel billets, bending in mid-air
like rods of willow. Presently, tiring of this, we drifted apart.
Charity went off to buy provisions and Nanette trundled away to find
the Thames. She found it at full tide, seething with the race of
hidden currents, blown by the rainy wind into stormy yellow crests,
so impelling and energetic, so romantically resourceful in the
various craft that fought their way downstream or bucketed up, so
wild in the smoky tangles that passing tugs cast upon the air, that
she was moved by real excitement and threw her arms above her head
and hollered as though she was mad.
Like Charity, she longed
to go to sea. She saw herself battling her way across the rough
Atlantic, drenched and tossed, and afterwards being congratulated by
everyone she knew. Still dreaming of her modest answers, she returned
to D. Wharf, and there found Charity, her feet surrounded by string
bags and cabbages, gazing down with dismay at the Ariadne. The Venus
was missing.
'Over at F. Wharf,' said
Herbert. (1948)
A Boater's Guide to Boating by Chris N. Deuchar
For a couple of centuries there was another general rule that power should give way to sail. This was logical until the advent of the supertanker which simply couldn't readily give way to sail and so the rule was modified to read that power should give way to sail except when sail is overtaking or where the powered boat, by virtue of its size or lack of manoeuvrability (including draught), is unable to do so. To me a full length narrow boat has negligible manoeuvrability compared with a sailing dinghy and so should maintain a steady (and therefore predictable course) through the melée. In my sailing days it was much preferred when powered boats took this strategy rather than trying to weave through us. At the other extreme there were those who were so filled with contempt that they would happily speed through and see if they could knock us out of the way. Like most things it's all a question of balance and consideration for one's fellow man. (1997)
A Caravan Afloat by C.J. Aubertin
THE water gurgled pleasantly against the bows as the old horse did his steady three miles an hour. A pine wood cast a grateful shade across the canal, and the valley beneath us was one sweep of purple heather interspersed with stacks of brown peat. I lolled in the stern giving the rudder the occasional twist necessary to keep us out of the bank. Beside me was a map which made it plain that the nearest road was some two miles off—and that only a dotted line (not recommended to cyclists) which terminated at World's-end. The canal was eerie. There had evidently been difficulties of construction in crossing the peatlands. The waterway ran above the level of the surrounding country, and one side of it was composed of old barges, now mere rotting timbers, among which purple loosestrife struggled for life with ranker water-side growths. Two miles beyond World's end, and as near to nature, I suppose, as any spot in England ! (1916)
A Caravan Afloat by C.J. Aubertin
The approach to Oxford along Port Meadow is uninteresting, nor is
the way through the city, uniting the dolce-far-niente* windings of
the Upper River with the battleground of the Eights, to be commended.
Even Oxford must have gasworks and railways, and perhaps the people
are wise to collect them into one rather unpleasant district. At the
start the omens are unfavourable. You must first of all find where
you can obtain the key to open a lock which joins the canal and a
stagnant pool communicating with the Thames. Scarcely a boat goes
this way, and the lock is kept locked. The canal people tell you that
the key is at the ferryman's, who lives half-a-mile in the
opposite direction. The ferryman is out, and his wife cannot give you
the key without a sight of your "permit." The
"permit" is in your boat half-a-mile away. This
puts you in a bad temper, and you are not surprised to hear that the
lock is known as Louse Lock.
- An old Italian expression: "sweet doing nothing" or delicious idleness.
Narrow Boat by L. T. C. Rolt
When all the work had been accomplished, and the "Florence" was floated out, her captain stood beside old Mr. Tooley on the dock side. After an unhurried, critical scrutiny, " Well, George," he said, "I reckon she looks well." This remark, coming from a boatman, was high praise, and to my mind it was certainly well merited. A modern economist would have pointed out quite truthfully that she would have been just as serviceable had she been painted battleship grey throughout at a great saving of labour. But because the men of the canals are not economists, and have a standard of values which is not based upon paper money, the "Florence" bore a coat of many colours, and lay resplendent in the morning sun. (1944)
The Flower of Gloster by E. Temple Thurston
At a quarter past four that afternoon in May, I sat in the stern
of the Flower of Gloster and watched the tow-line tauten, saw the
water-drops shake from off the sodden rope that glistened like a
twisted thread of silver in the sunlight, and felt that first faint
movement of the barge as she swung round into her gentle, gliding
pace. I pushed the tiller over hard a-starboard, and out went her
nose into the canal's centre.
One by one the ripples gathered and lengthened on the water, and soon we were leaving the towers and roofs of the old grey town behind us. Some twenty yards ahead upon the path walked Eynsham Harry with his horse, the tow-line sagging and tautening, sagging and tautening, as she strained or lingered on her way. (1911)
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES, IN PROSE by John Aikin and Anna Lætitia Barbauld
The Genius of the Canal eyed him with a contemptuous look, and in
a hoarse voice thus began:
“Hence, ignoble rill! with thy scanty tribute to thy lord, the Mersey; nor thus waste thy almost exhausted urn in lingering windings along the vale. Feeble as thine aid is, it will not be unacceptable to that master stream himself; for, as I lately crossed his channel, I perceived his sands loaded with stranded vessels. I saw, and pitied him, for undertaking a task to which he is unequal. But thou, whose languid current is obscured by weeds, and interrupted by mishapen pebbles; who losest thyself in endless mazes, remote from any sound, but thy own idle gurgling; how canst thou support an existence so contemptible and useless? For me, the noblest child of art, who hold my unremitting course from hill to hill, over vales and rivers; who pierce the solid rock for my passage, and connect unknown lands with distant seas; wherever I appear I am viewed with astonishment, and exulting commerce hails my waves. Behold my channel thronged with capacious vessels for the conveyance of merchandise, and splendid barges for the use and pleasure of travellers; my banks crowned with airy bridges and huge warehouses, and echoing with the busy sounds of industry. Pay then the homage due from sloth and obscurity to grandeur and utility.” (1792)
Inspirational at bedtime by
Life is too short to make it a race, Always take the scenic route breathe in the air, Allow your mind to focus. Wherever your going too make it a safe journey.
My thoughts (28th March 2017)
The Roar of the Butterflies by Reginald Hill
Lock-keeper's Lane had indeed once been a lane, and a busy one too, carrying traffic down from the main highway to the Luton-Bedford Canal created to form a link with the Ouse to the north. Twentieth-century improvements in road and rail services had long since put paid to the canals commercial claims to survival. From time to time proposals were made to revive it recreationally, but they always collapsed under the sheer weight of investment necessary to reconstitute the canal from the sorry string of silted-up, overgrown and usuall stagnant pools it had degenerated into. At its urban end, Lock-keeper's Lane had become just another dusty suburban street with few of its inmates sufficiently curious even to wonder where the name came from. (2008)
"The Lost Traveller's Guide" (fictional) quoted in "The Roar of the Butterflies" by Reginald Hill
Leck's Bottom is a stretch of boggy land covering approximately five hectares and acting as a sink for all the waste moisture of the surrounding area. Its unattractive ambience and noisome effluvia did not, however, daunt the Victorian engineers creating the Luton-Bedford Canal and for a while this useful waterway ran through the Bottom. Indeed, one of its most important locks was situated here. But such a situation required high maintenance and once the canal had outlived its usefulness the Bottom rapidly reverted to what it had been, or perhaps, because of the unsavoury traces of man's interference, something rather worse. A man would want to be a psychopath or a social historian to want to linger here. Certainly, to find an example of the non-picturesque rural ruin more dreary and depressing than the old lock would be difficult, even in central Iraq. (2008)
The Tartan Ringers by Jonathan Gash
It's one of the most exciting scenes to see an early-morning fairground with wagons and tents and fanciful structures. I love their colours, for the same reason I love them on canal boats; they are the brilliance of an earlier century showing through modern grot. (1987)
Through England's Waterways by Montague & Ann Lloyd
We played for safety and stopped, holding on to the low wall with our hands. The tug passed us and the skipper greeted us, obviously unaware of our impending danger, and only as he passed did we realise our terrible position. The leading barge passed and missed us by a few feet, but by then it was obvious that the second must hit us. We none of us moved, almost hypnotised by the monster approaching. She towered some eight foot above us, a steel barge, obviously light and completely out of control. The sickening blow came at last, and we were crushed between the barge and the canal wall. It was exactly like squeezing an empty match-box in the palm of one's hand. The sides of our light mahogany boat caved in. Within one minute she had sunk with almost everything we posessed on board. The last thing I did before she disappeared was to jump back as she was half submerged and switch off the engine that was still running. Somehow I could not endure the feeling that she was going to her doom with her heart still beating. (April 1948)
Experience Lakeland by John Ruskin
There is no wealth but health (1890)
Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
A barge was being towed towards her, and she sat down on the bank to rest and watch it. As the tow rope was slackened by a turn of the stream and dipped into the water, such a confusion stole into her mind that she thought she saw the forms of her dead children and dead grandchildren peopling the barge, and waving their hands to her in solemn measure; then, as the rope tightened and came up, dropping diamonds, it seemed to vibrate into two parallel ropes and strike her, with a twang, though it was far off. (1864)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
George towed us steadily on to Penton Hook. It seemed early to think about shutting up then, with the sun still in the heavens, and we settled to push straight on for Runnymead, three and a half miles further. We wished, however, afterward that we had stopped at Penton Hook.
Three or four miles up stream is a trifle, early in the morning, but it is a weary pull at the end of a long day. You take no interest in the scenery during these last few miles. You do not chat and laugh. Every half-mile you cover seems like two. You can hardly believe you are only where you are, and you are convinced that the map must be wrong; and, when you have trudged along for what seems to you at least ten miles, and still the lock is not in sight, you begin to seriously fear that somebody must have sneaked it, and run off with it. (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The second day was exactly like the first. The rain continued to pour down, and we sat, wrapped up in our mackintoshes, underneath the canvas, and drifted slowly down. On one point we were all agreed, and that was that, come what might, we would go through with this job to the bitter end. We had come out for a fortnight’s enjoyment on the river, and a fortnight’s enjoyment on the river we meant to have. We felt that to give in to the weather in a climate such as ours would be a most disastrous precedent. (1889)
Ownersnips by Peter J Scott
Our first forays on the cut were as hairy and revolting students, at the tail-end of the era of giving way to real working boats. The maintenance backlog was at its worst, hire boats had a 3-foot draught, the channel still went around the outside of the bends, and a small navigation error caused much pushing and shoving to get off the mud. It was all good fun, and a week on a hire boat was cheaper than a week's rent in College.
As November twilight was turning to pitch-black, we miscalculated a double bend and blocked the cut. The steerer of the loaded pair behind, thinking we ought to have sent him past half a mile back, described a range of innovative and discomforting things he wanted to do to us with his windlass - none of which was described in our hire brochure - while pushing his boats through his channel and leaving us higher and drier than we have been before or since.
It was still good fun, but not a golden age of civility, mutual consideration and bank-saving-speed that hindsight might suggest. (1995)
Ownersnips by Peter J Scott
Round the bend, and there ahead on the towpath half a boatlength apart are two seekers-after-fish.
The further one has all the gear: big basket to put innocent maggots in and sit on, long pole, lots of layers against the cold with a red and yellow anorak on the outside. Head covered with a woolly balaclava not wholly concealing some sticky-out ears. They must have names, these stoical bank-sitters: this one must be a Charles, with those ears.
The nearer one is in grey and white, with more meagre equipment, but none the less stoical - standing unflinching lest something happens with the fish on which he is concentrating. He looks like a Ron.
"Morning Ron" as we go by. But boaters can't hear comments from the bank above the noise of the engine, and this fishing position allows him to turn his back on us as we go by, then resume where he left off with minimum recognition that we were ever there.
The other raises his rod for us to pass underneath, fails to return a jaunty "ow do" and pays as little attention to his companion as he has done to us. They have probably been there all morning, if not their whole lives, not communicating with one another any more than with passing boaters. And they say fishing is a sociable activity...
We are almost at the next bend and chance a quick look back to see if anything has changed. The now-nearer fisherman is still staring ahead. He - Charles - is still trying to keep those protruding ears warm. But there is a surprise after all; from a glance at the further fishing position and its occupant, for...
... he-Ron, has flown away. (1998)
Small Boat Down The Years by Roger Pilkington
CAMBRIDGE 1937: At Welches Dam we got out and were given our spades and bundles of sacks. Our job was to contain the flood on the section of the bank from Welches Dam, where the Forty Foot Drain was pumping its surplus contents through the bank. We were not alone. There were labourers from the Catchment Board, County Council men, farmers and their hands, we dug and heaved away in the downpour, even if we had not slept for a day and a night. We were warned by a foreman that if anyone felt the bank move he was to shout, and we were to drop everything and run back along the top. For if it had moved it would have let go a tremendous force of water.
Oddly enough, there was no means of co-ordinating the output of the pumps which emptied the drains and lodes. They were not on the telephone. So the Catchment Board had set up a headquarters, to which reports on water levels and the state of the banks could be phoned from the few call-boxes in that desolate countryside. A master mind then decided that this weir should be open more, or that pump shut down, so that a united front could be held until the tide sweeping through distant King's Lynn was falling back. The detailed orders were phoned to the BBC, which interrupted its broadcasts as it does for "Attention all shipping" gale warnings. So Beethoven's Violin Concerto might fade away and be replaced by a voice exhorting a pump on the Old West or Popham's Eau to reduce to so many cubic feet per minute.
Around midnight we took a quick break for a cup of tea in the Forty Foot pump-house. It was warm inside and the machine was chuffing away with long, considered strokes. The engineer sat in an old wicker-chair, his feet on a small table on which stood a wireless. Soon, its music faded, and a polished voice introduced a bulletin from the Catchment Board. There was heavy flooding in the Bedford area. The weirs at St Neots and elsewhere on the river were to be kept open to capacity, but to allow a quicker run-off less water was to be voided into the Old Bedford River. "Welches Dam Engine, reduce to half capacity". We felt important. We were on the air, known to the mighty, paternalistic, all-caring and efficient broadcasting authority. We all sensed a holy respect for the wonder of wireless.
Except the engineer. He leaned forward and flicked off the set. "Bedford! They can keep their own blinking floods. We're not taking them down here”. He got out of his chair, examined the steam pressure gauge and opened the valve another three or four turns. The gleaming connecting rod began to flash faster, the chuffing of the steam exhaust became more hurried. Satisfied, he resumed his seat. We drank our tea, then trudged out into the damp darkness to resume our work. (1987)
Slipstream by Elizabeth Jane Howard
The most notable trip was in a small hired boat called Ailsa Craig, in which we explored the northern canals; for six weeks we journeyed in it and its engine never failed to fail us. Somehow, between them, James Sutherland and Tom Rolt kept it going.
I learned to work locks, cook suppers on a primus with steamers, and to steer. The high point of our journey was the navigation of the Huddersfield Narrow Canal, which ran across the Pennines from Ashton to Huddersfield. It had seventy-four locks in its nineteen miles, all of them in bad repair, and at its summit a tunnel, Standedge, that was three and a half miles long with adits to the main railway line, which meant it frequently filled with dense black smoke. We got stuck in it, and had to remove our rubbing strakes, which gave us an extra three-quarters of an inch leeway. It was an adventure, and we were the last people to go through the tunnel.
I grew to love canals and narrow boats: their secretive beauty, the way they slipped though large industrial towns and into country at a speed so leisurely - less than four miles an hour – that you could notice where you were. I loved the ingenious simplicity of the engineering: the locks that took you up or down and the occasional staircases that rose or fell dramatically in the landscape. The tunnels dripped silently, sometimes with a towpath in them, sometimes not, and aqueducts bridged wide valleys.
There was the amazing swing bridge in an iron trough at the junction of the Bridgewater and Manchester Ship Canals and the wonderful hydraulic mechanism that lifted boats bodily from the river Weaver up to the Welsh section of the Shropshire Union Canal.
The boat trips taught me a lot about the country that I might never have known. Robert and I slept in a tent that had to be pitched every night in pouring rain - it seemed always to rain. All the same, that whole trip in the north was a wonderful adventure. (2002)
THE EYE OF THE WIND an autobiography by Peter Scott
In the month of the tour on Beatrice, we covered 450 miles, and passed through 273 locks. There is a strange beauty and peace about these little-used thoroughfares running deep into England. We became proficient at working the locks and sliding our tight-fitting boat into them. We learned with nice judgment to slip the stern rope over the bollard on the lock gate in passing, so that the way on the boat pulled the lock gate shut behind her and the pulling brought her to a standstill before her bows hit the lock gate at the other end. The locks fitted Beatrice like a glove and there was a whole field of satisfaction in passing her through them smoothly and without mistakes. Above all we enjoyed the leisureliness, once we had caught up with our schedule.
This voyage brought home to me the essential good sense in trying to save our canals and navigable rivers from abandonment and destruction. For two generations the railway companies had been trying to rid themselves of canal competition, buying many canals and letting them rot. Now many people thought that because they did not pay for commercial traffic they should be abandoned and filled in. They had not the vision to see that here was a great new recreation ground for our overcrowded people. Perhaps the canals could not pay that way either, but with a combination of uses these multi-purpose waterways could (and can) be turned into one of the country's most valuable amenities. I remain convinced that the costly alternative of filling them in is stupid and wasteful. (1961)
LANDSCAPE WITH CANALS an autobiography by L T C Rolt
Our train ran into Diggle station and we could see Ailsa Craig moored just outside the mouth of the tunnel. Straight ahead of us rose the sooty-green flank of Standedge quartered with blackened dry stone walls. Beneath it, the black hole of the canal tunnel looked no bigger than a mouse-hole in a wainscot.
Begun in the last years of the eighteenth century, the driving of the tunnel took twelve years, a seemingly endless battle between man and stubborn rock, fought by dim candle light in the bowels of the Pennines. The height above was so great that few working shafts were driven; one of these, left open for ventilation, is 600ft deep. It appeared to me that whenever the miners had encountered rock of soft or doubtful quality they had cut it back until they found a safe roof; it was difficult otherwise to account for the fact that a tunnel of the minimum width of 7ft6in (officially) and only 8ft6in above water level would, every now and again, open out to such cavernous proportions. There was, of course, no towing path and such great variations in size must have made it extremely difficult to propel the boats through the tunnel. Traffic was operated on the 'one-way' principle and boats were 'legged' through. In that case, I thought the boatmen of those days must have had telescopic legs.
Our passage through it was one of the most eerie and sensational experiences of my life and must have taken us at least two hours for we took it extremely slowly. The jagged rocks on either side looked peculiarly menacing and I was only too well aware that there was only half an inch of rotten wood in our hull. In the narrow places, contact with the rock was unavoidable and in one of these Ailsa Craig stuck fast. As we had just about reached the middle of the tunnel by this time, it was not a situation calculated to appeal to sufferers from claustrophobia. The trouble was that Ailsa Craig's hull was the wrong shape for the job; her beam nowhere exceeded 7feet, but 7feet at a height of about 4ft6in above water level was too much for the low arch of the roof. Fortunately the jagged walls of the tunnel provided plenty of purchase in our efforts to free the boat, which were not helped by the atmosphere which was as thick and sulphurous due to the cross-galleries at intervals connecting the canal tunnel to the parallel railway tunnels. As we struggled in the choking darkness to free Ailsa Craig, an occasional thunderous reverberation followed by a fresh blast of smoke signified the passage of a train.
At length our boat floated freely astern. There was only room to crawl between the roof of the cabin and the low vault of the tunnel, but by lying on our stomachs we contrived to prise off the wooden rubbing strake along each side at cabin roof level and gained us about an inch and a half overall, which made the vital difference between go and no go. The only course was to drive Ailsa Craig full ahead into the narrow place in the hope that she would go through - which, with a certain amount of creaking protest, she did. Fortunately, we encountered no similar obstacle until eventually we glimpsed the wan arc of daylight that marked the Marsden end of the tunnel.
Ailsa Craig was not the last boat to pass through Standedge Tunnel. Some years after the closure of the canal, British Waterways continued to run special trips through it for societies and parties interested in such things. But I think we may well have been the last boat to travel through the whole twenty miles of waterway from Ashton to Huddersfield. (1977)
THE EYE OF THE WIND an autobiography by Peter Scott
The Beatrice crew varied from six to nine and included Robert Aickman, Chairman of the IWA., one of the most erudite of men and most excellent company. We sailed out into the open estuary of the Mersey in order to get from Liverpool to Weston Mersey lock, a fifteen-mile journey on salt water in a fresh breeze; we crossed the Barton Aqueduct and descended in the famous Anderton Lift which carried the floating Beatrice in a tank eighty feet down from the Trent and Mersey Canal into the River Weaver Navigation.
We got firmly stuck in Harecastle Tunnel which is one and three-quarter miles long and has subsided owing to adjacent coal workings. Beatrice was wedged against the roof 1,000 yards in, a situation about as conducive to claustrophobia as any I have ever experienced, but after a great deal of hard work pulling her back, loading her with bricks and trying again a number of times we eventually got her through six and a half hours later, and emerged black from head to foot into an April snowstorm. (1961)
The River Runs Uphill by Robert Aickman
After a careful breakfast, Beatrice entered the Harecastle Tunnel tunnel at 9am and chugged ahead into the thick blackness; until we saw that the bore of the tunnel was about to become much smaller, the roof much lower. We edged through the murk into the small aperture ahead. The Harecastle towpath was broken away and under water at several places, and so cannot reasonably be used for a transit of the tunnel on foot, but none the less forces boats out of the tunnel centre and against the far wall and Beatrice came to a gentle but total stop: wedged between the tunnel arch on the steersman's right, and Telford's immense wooden rubbing strakes, vast planks edging the collapsed and soggy towpath, on his left.
James Sutherland succeeding in sawing through and removing a portion of the towpath planking: we tried again, and advanced considerably further, when we stuck once more, so tightly that we could not even retreat. The only hope lay in the piles of slimy bricks thoughtfully placed at intervals along the even slimier towpath; the wedged navigator loaded these bricks on to his vessel until her hull went down far enough into the water for the superstructure to clear the arch of the tunnel roof. Peter Scott organised the whole party into a human chain and we started transferring the nearest pile of bricks to Beatrice's floor. It was discouraging work; there was just enough light for us to see Beatrice's gracious interior becoming ever more filthy and slithery; and soon a youthful member of the party began screaming that he could stand no more and must get out, a bad case of claustrophobia. It was fascinating to see how Peter dealt with him; an impressive demonstration of natural leadership and moral force. He reminded the lad that he was going to a good school, a place where one just couldn't behave like that; he even spoke of the Empire, and of the conduct expected of an Englishman. The effect was astonishing. The boy quietened at once, resumed work on the bricks, and gave no more trouble. We loaded more than two hundred bricks before Beatrice could be made to budge.
We crept ahead once more, woodwork and ironwork screeching and ripping off from time to time, and emerged from the tunnel at 3.40pm. It was snowing. There was an assembly of working boats hideously delayed by our misadventures. There was an official of the Docks and Inland Waterways Executive: his task was to bid us unload the Executive's bricks immediately; which we did under his stern eye, piling them up in the snow, while the working boat crews cursed us as they entered. We were relieved when a call upon us late that night by the same official of the Executive proved merely to be on behalf of his daughter, who wanted all our autographs. (1986)
PETER SCOTT Painter and Naturalist by Elspeth Huxley
To meet the accommodation need of staff, members and important visitors at Slimbridge, the Trust bought a narrow-boat called Beatrice and moored her by the bridge over the canal.
This marked the start of a long association between Peter Scott and a movement to rescue and restore to use the network of canals that had been allowed to decay after the coming of the railways. The founder of this movement was Robert Aickman, who had a fire in his belly concerning canals that burned at least as fiercely as Peter's fire in relation to wildfowl.
It has been said (by one John Smith) that 'to further a cause, you have first to gain attention. There are two ways of doing this: you can cajole and influence and generally stroke the ears of those in authority, or you can attract a person's attention by punching him on the nose.' Peter belonged to the first school of thought, Robert Aickman to the second. (1993)
PETER SCOTT Painter and Naturalist by Elspeth Huxley
Lecturing was an important part of Peter's fund-raising activities. In 1949, at Robert Aickman's instigation, he planned a lecture tour in Beatrice through the Midlands and up to Liverpool. Beatrice's engines kept breaking down, the schedule got disorganized and Peter had to hire taxis to drive for miles to keep his appointments. However he discovered 'a whole field of satisfaction' in navigating through the many locks without a bump or scratch, and then across the estuary of the Mersey, fifteen miles of almost open sea.
On the homeward journey, disaster nearly struck. The neglected canals were frequently blocked, and tunnels were especially unsafe. In the Harecastle tunnel, one and a half miles long, they got stuck about halfway. Peter, who was steering, put the engine into reverse. Nothing happened. Part of the roof had collapsed, it was pitch dark, airless and very frightening. The only way to free the boat was to lower her level in the water. Her crew had noticed a pile of dirty bricks stacked near the entrance to the tunnel, so they waded back along the tow-path which was waist-deep in water, carried the bricks armful by armful, deposited them in the boat and tried again. Beatrice edged forward but stuck once more - more than once, many times. Six and a half hours after they had entered the tunnel they emerged, black from head to toe, to encounter April snow. In a month they covered 450 miles, passed through 273 locks and netted for the Trust £484. (1993)
FIGHTING ALL THE WAY by Barbara Castle
A more certain source of satisfaction was what I was able to do for the canals. I had always been fascinated by inland waterways. I had been on a couple of canal holidays and had been struck by how quickly one could escape from drab industrial surroundings as one slipped between the hedges lining the towpath in a flat-bottomed boat. I believed that messing about in boats was a leisure activity which should be increasingly available to everyone.
I was therefore horrified to discover that one of the Treasury's money-saving exercises in 1967 involved closing down miles of inland waterways which were no longer commercially viable. I was alerted to the danger by a vocal band of canal enthusiasts led by a certain Mr Monk, whose main political weapon was verbal vitriol to be thrown in the faces of all politicians. I did not need any kind of threat to launch me into the attack because my heart was in their cause. Getting money out of the Treasury at that moment of economic crisis was like the proverbial getting of blood out of a stone, but when I moved in on Jack Diamond, who as the Chief Secretary to the Treasury was responsible for cutting public expenditure, I found he was human after all, or as human as his job allowed. I got him to agree to give me enough subsidy to keep open 1400 miles of non-commercially viable canals for pleasure cruising; we called them 'leisureways'. Jack stipulated, quite rightly, that the job of opening up and maintaining further stretches of disused canal would have to fall on the voluntary bodies.
In fact the voluntary canal societies have responded magnificently, as I found when as Euro-MP for one of the Manchester area constituencies I was made president of the Huddersfield Canal Society and attended their annual canal festival.
When my White Paper on inland waterways was published I enjoyed one of the few rewarding moments in a minister's battle-scarred life. I walked into my ministerial room to find my civil servants staring at a large bunch of red roses from the vitriolic Mr Monk, who had been a thorn in all our sides. (1993)
Slipstream by Elizabeth Jane Howard
In August 1950, the IWA staged a Festival and Rally of Boats at Market Harborough. By now Tom Rolt and Angela had parted and Tom was very much in love with a girl called Sonia Smith, who'd been an actress and then married a boatman.
Tom had resigned from the Council, so the main effort of staging the event fell to Robert, and he did it very well. A play was to be performed in the Assembly Rooms. Robert [Aickman] wanted the piece to be light entertainment, and chose Benn Levy's 'Spring Time for Henry'. The cast of four were Barry Morse, Nicolette Bernard, Carla Lehman and, surprisingly, Pete[r Scott], who decided he would like to have a go. He was very good in it. The farce was on the short side, and it was decided to have a curtain raiser. I'd written a two-hander called Illusion and showed it to Nicolette and Barry, who both said they'd like to do it. Robert couldn't bear the idea that a play of mine would be performed. He was adamant, and decided upon Schnitzler's 'A Marriage Has Been Arranged' instead. It went very well, but I was desperately disappointed not to have this chance of seeing my play performed by professionals. Eventually it was consigned to oblivion.
The festival was a great success, largely because it put the idea of waterways as a recreation on the map. The IWA ceased to be a small society of cranks with wild bees in their bonnets and became a body whose influence is still felt today. It's interesting that this began just as its core was splitting. A civil war had started, with Robert and Tom vying with each other for the claim that he had started the whole enterprise. (2002)
The River Runs Uphill by Robert Aickman
The A.P.Herbert Market Harborough Challenge Trophy was one of the large silver fantasies from Postons of Cannon Street for annual competition, and is presented to the craft that has covered the greatest number of toiling miles to the Festival.
Peter Scott's Challenge Trophy is for the vessel that on the way accomplishes the greatest distance on salt water. We hoped for many entrants from abroad, but there were none at Market Harborough.
My own Challenge Trophy is for the entrant who en route slays the greatest number of dragons, and rescues the highest total of maidens (more mundanely, for the most enterprising and meritorious voyage). From time to time it has tempted novices into achieving the impossible, which, of course, is all that matters in this life, and especially on the waterways. (1986)
PETER SCOTT Painter and Naturalist by Elspeth Huxley
There was also fishing in the River Kennet. Peter Scott and Tim Maurice, son of the local doctor shared a punt, and developed an unorthodox form of fishing. Peter became adept at striking grayling while they swam under water, a feat demanding close coordination of hand and eye and lightning execution. (1993)
LANDSCAPE WITH CANALS an autobiography by L T C Rolt
Cressy could have carried us to Huddersfield but she would have had to return by the way she had come.
Lancastrians and Yorkists had different ideas about canal gauges, the former favouring narrow boats and the latter Yorkshire keels which are short but broad of beam. So it came about that at Huddersfield, the Narrow Canal made an end-on junction with the Huddersfield Broad Canal which is virtually a short branch of the Calder & Hebble Navigation and, like the latter, has locks less than sixty feet long. Consequently only minuscule boats that were both narrow and short could use this waterway as a through route.
This is one of the more crazy results of the fact that the English waterway system, if such it can be called, was the product of many local undertakings, each considered in isolation at the time of construction. (1977)
VOYAGE INTO ENGLAND The Canal that No Longer Was by John Seymour
The lock-keeper said that he thought we could get through the Runcorn & Weston Canal to Runcorn, and thence up the Runcorn Locks and into the Bridgewater. We came to a little basin and a lock, after first having to open a very neglected swing-bridge.
The lock looked unbelievably run-down, and there had obviously not been a boat through for months, if not years. We managed to open the bottom gates, and ran in, but I could not close them again. I hove on the windlasses, but this beam would have broken off before the gates yielded.
I tried flushing the gates shut by drawing all the upper paddles and letting a weight of water through, but this did not work. The water was very low in the pound above I realized that too much of this would empty it. I cast about and found some old corrugated iron sheeting. I half-opened one upper paddle, and used the flush of water to hold one piece of corrugated iron up against the opening between the two lower gates. I was able to push it down without it falling askew. With another sheet of corrugated iron I was able to push if right down to the sill. The other sheet filled the gap above.
I drew all the top paddles and let the water come. The corrugated iron bonked and buckled under the pressure of water. I looked about for timber, and more corrugated iron, to make a real strong job of it. Then there was a bang - the weight of water had lifted the sagging gates up on to their sill and bang them shut. We quickly got ‘a level'. (1966)
The Life Of LTC Rolt by Victoria Owens
The blockage on the Stratford-upon-Avon Canal had come about in 1945 when a lifting bridge at Tunnel Lane, Lifford, collapsed under the weight of a heavy goods vehicle. The GWR installed a fixed steel structure in its place which served the needs of road users but made the canal impassable by any vessel larger than a canoe. George and Sonia Smith had been eloquent upon the subject of the inconvenience caused to boaters.
Primed by Robert Aickman, IWA Member Lord Methuen asked some pointed questions in the House of Lords about the legality of the obstruction. It resulted in an assurance from the GWR that the Lifford bridge would be lifted on notice of an intended passage at any time. Tom decided to write to the GWR and simply ask for a passage through the canal.
His chosen date was 20 May 1947. Although the exercise of his right of navigation promised to catch the public eye. Tom anticipated it with mixed feelings anxious lest Cressy should either stick beneath the bridge, or get damaged in the course of her passage.
Robert arrived to join him on board Cressy and they worked their way up the nineteen Lapworth locks, aware of the presence of Bilster, the motorboat which the GWR had chartered to precede them through the bridge, going just ahead. All went well until they reached the near-derelict canal's summit, where the weeds were so thick that they had to 'resort to bow-hauling'.
Tom and Robert set off aboard Cressy the following morning to find that Bilster had grounded in a bridge hole right in their way, jammed fast 'on a mound of debris'. They managed to persuade the driver of a tractor who had been ploughing a nearby field to abandon his work and tow her clear of the obstruction. Not long afterwards, Bilster grounded again but this time, with some adroit steering, Tom managed to manoeuvre Cressy ahead and contrived to pull the GWR boat free. Cressy, grounded soon afterwards; Robert and Tom managed to haul her clear unaided and Bilster signalled to Tom to cast them off, and abandoned their passage.
Proceeding with the utmost caution and at the slowest conceivable pace, Cressy advanced and found a crowd of spectators on hand to witness their passage under the bridge which a posse of overalled GWR gangers' had jacked up in anticipation of their arrival. Cressy just about got underneath it, albeit with much manhandling beneath the girders. It was hardly a triumphal progress but Robert and Tom had accomplished what they set out to achieve. (2024)
The River Runs Uphill by Robert Aickman
It behoves one to be very careful indeed when assembling a party for a long trip in a small boat. One finds not only that boon companions on land can become bossy bores afloat, or, alternatively, sheer mudweights of negation; but, more surprisingly, that some who had seemed to lack sparkle at a reception, prove sympathetic and charming (not to say indefatigable) friends on a boat.
A good working rule when organising a trip with people with whom one has not travelled the water before, is to make private provision for an escape channel at an early stage: for use by incompatibles or, at the worst, by oneself. For a love affair afloat I have become inclined to recommend an ocean liner.
The chief cause of trouble among hire-craft crews is individual or mass incapacity for fantasy: an insistence upon treating the transaction as if it were a part of ordinary day-to-day living. (1986)
WATERWAYS WORLD obituary for Sir Peter Scott by Robert Shopland
Once at Slimbridge, Beatrice became both useful and a great attraction at her moorings. In the spring of 1950, she undertook a month-long, 450-mile voyage to the North-West of England where Peter Scott carried out an extensive lecture tour. The Beatrice was both transport and base. Robert Aickman, who devised the complicated itinerary, accompanied Peter Scott throughout his tour.
The voyage was plagued with problems from the outset, not least with the engine. The Beatrice had got no further than Tewkesbury when the decision was made to take out the Model 'T' and replace it with another engine. The replacement proved to be little better than the original but, nevertheless, the Beatrice travelled as far north as Wigan and accomplished the crossing of the Mersey Estuary from Stanley Dock to Weston Mersey Lock, where the party navigated the Manchester Ship Canal to Runcorn.
Here Beatrice ascended the now long closed Runcorn flight of locks, progress up which was delayed by meeting a gang of lightermen descending the flight who were arguing angrily as to whether it was Wednesday or Thursday. Scott's party were able to advise them that it was, in fact, Tuesday. (November 1989)
WATERWAYS WORLD The First Rally of Boats by Robert Aickman
By 1949 we thought it was time IWA "did something for the members". and Tom Rolt suggested “a small rally of members' boats". Few places in Britain could be more inland than Market Harborough as a venue. We were unsure of our reception there: we knew that often in official circles any inland boat person was deemed to be a mere unregistered vagrant. Councillor Hudson (whose trade was the manufacture of gravestones) remarked: "This is about the best thing that has ever happened to Market Harborough"; and we departed our planning meeting with the promise of a special rate to help the finances. The District Council set up a town-wide scheme for the housing of Festival visitors in the homes of their citizens, gave us free use of a fine stone building in the central plaza as an office, and paid for our fireworks display, an enormous event in those easy-going days.
The show we mounted at Market Harborough proved to be of great help to the waterways: the District Council estimated the attendance of the public at about 50,000; which they, and we, thought fabulous. it made it possible to invite a galaxy of celebrated and influential people who would not have been drawn simply by the pleasure of gazing at a fleet of moored boats and their occupants; and upon those celebrated and influential people the inland waterways experience made an impression which undoubtedly establishes the Festival as the major turning point in the dire modern history of our Inland Waterways, the first point of real take-off for the future.
What the waterways movement is really about is the creation of a whole new civilisation: on the waterways the energy crisis and the conservation crisis meet and are concurrently solved. Every now and then there is room for a vast burst of joy and self-expression; a demonstration of all, in diverse fields, that a great national movement has to offer. As well as experts, let us have prophets. The Market Harborough Festival could not, perhaps, be altogether rationalised; but precisely therein may well have lain its power. (August 1974)
IWA BULLETIN No76 by Robert Aickman
Our Lifford Lane Protest Cruises perhaps, added to our native genius and the sacramental quality of our cause, and put us on the map.
The Great Western Railway Company, then the navigation authority, claimed that a lorry had damaged the opening bridge across the upper Stratford Canal at Lifford Lane, and promptly fixed the bridge so that it did not open at all. Our Member, Lord Methuen, already a stout campaigner, asked question after question in the House of Lords, and in the end obtained an assurance that the bridge would be lifted at any time upon twenty-four hours notice being given, and that posters to that effect would be displayed along the waterway.
We immediately gave the notice, and a party of us set out from Kingswood in Cressy. We first looked for a poster: the only one we could find, or ever saw, was on the back of a towpath structure; viewable only by scrambling down a bank and through vegetation.
The cruise included several remarkable incidents but immediately we emerged from the western end of King's Norton Tunnel we heard our public. The roar of them was like the distant crowd at Wembley. There were hundreds of them: on rooftops; up trees; shoulder-high. The Inland Waterways Association had arrived. The bridge was lifted; by much plant and many men. Cressy crept beneath. The bridge was then immediately lowered and sealed down again.
Then came the second Protest Cruise; on Peter Scott's Beatrice with Mr Scott at the helm. The Daily Mirror said he was responsible for wasting public money; but the opening bridge was restored and the crystal ball sent on its headlong way that ended with Her Majesty the Queen Mother at Stratford in 1964; the cannon were charged that have blown away so many other waterway abuses provided there are available those resolute enough to fire. (May 1966)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We found ourselves short of water at Hambledon Lock; so we took our jar and went up to the lock-keeper’s house to beg for some. George was our spokesman. He put on a winning smile, and said: “Oh, please could you spare us a little water?” “Certainly,” replied the old gentleman; “take as much as you want, and leave the rest.”
“Thank you so much,” murmured George, looking about him. “Where—where do you keep it?” “It’s always in the same place my boy,” was the stolid reply: “just behind you.”
“I don’t see it,” said George, turning round. “Why, bless us, where’s your eyes?” was the man’s comment, as he twisted George round and pointed up and down the stream. “There’s enough of it to see, ain’t there?”
“Oh!” exclaimed George, grasping the idea; “but we can’t drink the river, you know!” “No; but you can drink some of it,” replied the old fellow. “It’s what I’ve drunk for the last fifteen years.” (1889)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We stopped under the willows by Kempton Park, and lunched. It is a pretty little spot there: a pleasant grass plateau, running along by the water’s edge, and overhung by willows. We had just commenced the third course—the bread and jam—when a gentleman in shirt-sleeves and a short pipe came along, and wanted to know if we knew that we were trespassing. We said we hadn’t given the matter sufficient consideration as yet to enable us to arrive at a definite conclusion on that point, but that, if he assured us on his word as a gentleman that we _were_ trespassing, we would, without further hesitation, believe it.
He gave us the required assurance, and we thanked him, but he still hung about, and seemed to be dissatisfied, so we asked him if there was anything further that we could do for him; and Harris, who is of a chummy disposition, offered him a bit of bread and jam. I fancy he must have belonged to some society sworn to abstain from bread and jam; for he declined it quite gruffly, as if he were vexed at being tempted with it, and he added that it was his duty to turn us off.
Harris said that if it was a duty it ought to be done, and asked the man what was his idea with regard to the best means for accomplishing it. Harris is what you would call a well-made man of about number one size, and looks hard and bony, and the man measured him up and down, and said he would go and consult his master, and then come back and chuck us both into the river.
Of course, we never saw him any more, and, of course, all he really wanted was a shilling. There are a certain number of riverside roughs who make quite an income, during the summer, by slouching about the banks and blackmailing weak-minded noodles in this way. They represent themselves as sent by the proprietor. The proper course to pursue is to offer your name and address, and leave the owner, if he really has anything to do with the matter, to summon you, and prove what damage you have done to his land by sitting down on a bit of it. But the majority of people are so intensely lazy and timid, that they prefer to encourage the imposition by giving in to it rather than put an end to it by the exertion of a little firmness. (1889)
Mars and Its Canals by Percival Lowell
Interdependence, not independence, marks the attitude of the canals. Each not only proceeds with absolute directness from one point to another, but at its terminals it meets canals which have come there with like forthrightness from other far places. Nor is it two only that thus come together at a common junction. Three, four, five, up to as many as fourteen, thus make rendezvous, and it is a poor junction that cannot show at least six or seven. The result is a network which triangulates the surface of the planet like a geodetic survey into polygons of all shapes and size.
From this arrangement it is at once evident that the canals are not fortuitously placed. That lines should thus meet exactly and in numbers at particular points, and only there, shows that their locating is not the outcome of chance. If very thin rods be thrown haphazard over a surface, the probability that more than two will cross at the same point is vanishingly small. Increasingly assured is it that this would not happen generally. The result we see is therefore not a matter of chance (1906)
VENETIAN LIFE by William Dean Howells
It is true that the streets in Venice are canals; and yet you can walk to any part of the city, and need not take boat whenever you go out of doors, as I once fondly thought you must. But after all, though I find dry land enough in it, I do not find the place less unique, less a mystery, or less a charm. By day, the canals are still the main thoroughfares; and if these avenues are not so full of light and color as some would have us believe, they, at least, do not smell so offensively as others pretend. And by night, they are still as dark and silent as when the secret vengeance of the Republic plunged its victims into the ungossiping depths of the Canalazzo! (1867)
WATERWAYS AND WATER TRANSPORT IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES by J. STEPHEN JEANS
It would be the idlest of idle dreams to expect that the canal system of this or any other country can be resuscitated in competition with railways. Canals have no longer any function to fulfil that is worthy of serious consideration. Their mission is ended; their use is an anachronism. They do not provide the means of cheaper transport, and they have no other advantage to offer to offset the tedium of their transport.
The canals of the future must be adapted to the new conditions of commerce. Our great centres of population and industry shall be made seaports - Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield, and other places, shall not suffer hurt because they are inland towns. The existing canals may serve as a valuable nucleus for the new departure. Their importance as a means to this end has already been practically recognised.
The Manchester Ship Canal Company has acquired the Bridgwater Navigation. For the purposes of the projected Sheffield and Goole Ship Canal it is proposed to acquire several of the old navigations, including the Dearne and Dove Canal, the Stainforth and Keadby Canal, and other waterways.
Other improved canals have been suggested, and Mr. Samuel Lloyd has advocated the construction of a great national canal which would connect all the principal industrial centres of the kingdom with each other and with the sea. There appears to be no insuperable difficulty in the way of realising such a project. Capital alone is wanted. Whether that essential will be forthcoming is, however, very doubtful.
Much is likely to depend on the extent to which the Manchester Ship Canal is successful. It would be a mistake to go too quickly. If ship canal transport is likely to be a means of salvation to British trade and commerce, we shall not be much the worse if we wait for it a little longer. (1890)
THE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED ON THE CANAL (Half-Past Seven Stories) by Robert Gordon Anderson
Marmaduke looked up the towpath and had a great piece of good luck, for a big boat came by, a canal-boat, shaped like a long wooden shoe, drawn by two mules who walked on shore quite a distance ahead of it. A long thick rope stretched from the collars of the mules to the bow of the boat. A little boy walked behind the mules, yelling to them and now and then poking them with a long pole to make them go faster. My! how they pulled and tugged on that rope! They had to, for it was a pretty big load, that boat. And it had a big hole in it laden with black shiny coal–tons and tons of it!
The Man With the Red Shirt and the Pipe, and the Round Fat Rosy Woman With the Big Arms, and all the children waved their hands to Marmaduke and he waved back, then hurried ahead, to catch up with the boy who was driving the mules.
After quite a journey they drew near the Lock, a great place in the Canal like a harbour, with two pairs of gates, as high as a house, at each end, to keep the water in the Lock. Outside one pair of gates the water was low; outside the others, the water was high; the pair at the end where the water was high would open and the canalboat would float in the Lock and rest there for a while like a ship in harbour. Then those gates would shut tight, and the man who tended the Lock would open the gates at the end where the water was low. And the water would rush out and go down, down in the Lock, carrying the boat with it until it was on a level with the low part of the Canal. And the boat at last would float out of the harbour of the Lock and away on its journey to the Sea. (c.1910)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
Early in 1906 a correspondent of The Standard made an experimental canal journey from the Thames, at Brentford, to Birmingham, to test the qualities of a certain "suction-producer gas motor barge." The barge itself stood the test so well that the correspondent was able to declare: "In the new power may be found a solution of the problem of canal traction."
He arrived at this conclusion notwithstanding the fact that the motor barge was stopped at one of the locks by a drowned cat being caught between the barge and the incoming "butty" boat. (1906)
The Trouble With Canals by John Liley
A friend at school had been on a canal with the boy scouts. Of these, the leader had wangled somehow the use of a narrow boat to camp in. The boat had been horse-drawn, and this brought problems. In an area remote from assistance in such matters, the animal inconsiderately died.
'What was it like?' I asked, having heard about the trip, though not the demise.
'Terrible' he replied. 'Have you ever tried burying a horse? Then we had to pull the boat. Miles. It took us ages.' (2017)
German Invasion Plans for the British Isles by Bodleian Library University of Oxford (translated and published)
The horizontal and vertical layout of England provides extremely good conditions for the development of an effective system of waterways: no point on the island is more than 120 kilometres from the coast, and the low watersheds are easily overcome, allowing the individual river systems to be linked without great effort. Despite the favourable natural conditions, the modern waterway system is practically meaningless. The canals themselves are numerous, but most of them originated in the eighteenth century and have been heavily neglected The banks have been insufficiently strengthened, and the number of locks is far too great for modern transport. (1940)
The Trouble With Canals by John Liley
A month before the Canal & River Trust was launched, another watery event took place. The Diamond Jubilee Pageant, staged upon the Thames, was in honour of the 60 years reign of Elizabeth II. 670 craft took part, in a sail-past through the centre of London. Vessels of every size, shape and purpose had been assembled, some of them from distant lands.
Unhappily, the rain descended as if from a hosepipe, but the procession soldiered on. A million people watched from the banks. Ten million more tuned in to the BBC's a coverage that was curious, to put it kindly. That four-and-a-half-hour coverage hard-won reputation for descriptive accuracy, and depth of detail, was regrettably abandoned here. The broadcaster Michael Buerk, who was unconnected with this production, raged at the 'cringingly inept' commentary that the BBC provided. He was a good deal ruder than I would care to be in print. But, on a bigger point:
By special arrangement, the Thames Barrier down at Woolwich was closed for the occasion, to limit the flow and provide a suitable amount of water. The question arises: if the Barrier can be used once for such a purpose, why not on every tide? There may be scientific reasons for this not being done, but let them be carefully and dispassionately examined.
To repeat the view expressed over a hundred years ago, London could be revitalised by such a move. I would write this in foot-high letters if I could. (2017)
The Trouble With Canals by John Liley
East of Richmond, the benevolent atmosphere of the Thames Conservancy came to an end. From there onwards the Thames was tidal. When the water went away, there was mud or rubble at the edges. The banks themselves were fortified and where landing stages existed, their use by the casual [canoe-]traveller was forbidden. Water-buses and the launches of the administrators were allowed to call at them, but not us. It took a deal of pleading, on reaching the pontoon by Charing Cross Bridge, to appeal to the better nature of the attendant there. We had a celebratory muffin at the Festival Hall; then, with sinking hearts, saw the water getting choppy as an easterly wind began to blow.
The objective now was Whitstable, where our sister lived, but when the current is in one direction, and wind in the other, the waves get steeper. Which they did. Lighters banged together on their trots, and the big steel mooring buoys, each the size of a lorry, surged to and fro as if they were guard dogs. I remember seeing a bus crossing Tower Bridge, and wishing we were on it. Even with the tide in our favour we could not keep it up. A dozen miles downstream Stickleback ground to a halt.
There seemed to be a beach there, a place where we might land. There was, but this was Beckton, where the Northern Outfall Sewage Station is located, and this was no ordinary beach. Whether it was entirely of sewage nobody cared to say, but it wasn't fresh air we were breathing. Having scrambled through this, we were allowed to camp on the ornamental lawn for the night in order to recover. I remember the grass heaving and pitching, just as the Thames had been doing. A worker dropped by to relate the consequences of Weill's disease, and we wondered if we had got it, but it was only some affliction of the inner ear. We paddled to Erith when things died down, then sought out a train to take us home. (2017)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We put the kettle on to boil, up in the nose of the boat, and went down to the stern and pretended to take no notice of it, but set to work to get the other things out.
That is the only way to get a kettle to boil up the river. If it sees that you are waiting for it and are anxious, it will never even sing. You have to go away and begin your meal, as if you were not going to have any tea at all. You must not even look round at it. Then you will soon hear it sputtering away, mad to be made into tea.
It is a good plan, too, if you are in a great hurry, to talk very loudly to each other about how you don’t need any tea, and are not going to have any. You get near the kettle, so that it can overhear you, and then you shout out, “I don’t want any tea; do you, George?” to which George shouts back, “Oh, no, I don’t like tea; we’ll have lemonade instead—tea’s so indigestible.” Upon which the kettle boils over, and puts the stove out. (1889)
Bradshaw's Canals & Navigable Rivers by Henry de Salis
Gongoozler: an idle and inquisitive person who stands staring for prolonged periods at anything out of the common. The word is believed to have its origins in the Lake District of England (1904)
The Canals of England by Eric de Maré
Representatives of the Inland Waterways Association paid a visit to a high official of the Ministry of Transport. They asked him if the Ministry, having taken over the railways, had any plans for the future use of the many railway-owned canals. The high official looked astonished. So also did his callers when he cried out in a loud voice, 'Oh, do we get them too?' (August 1949)
The Flower of Gloster by E. Temple Thurston
For more than three miles, the canal divides the wooded hills, a band of silver drawn through this valley of gold. Lock by lock it mounts the gentle incline until it reaches the pound to Sapperton Tunnel, and at the summit spreads into a wide basin before it passes into the last lock, some few hundred yards before the tunnel's mouth. The whole way from Stroud upwards is almost deserted now. We only met one barge in the whole journey. An old lady with capacious barge bonnet was standing humming quietly to herself at the tiller. ...
The passage through that tunnel of Sapperton, which, on a sudden bend of the canal, opens a deep black mouth into the heart of the hills, was the only time when the voyage of the Flower of Gloster had in it the sense of stirring adventure. Into the grim darkness you glide and, within half an hour, are lost in a lightless cavern where the drip drip of the clammy water sounds incessantly in your ears.
Some time ago, when there was more constant traffic on this canal, there were professional leggers to carry you through; for there is no tow-path, and the barge must be propelled by the feet upon the side walls of the tunnel. Now that the barges pass so seldom, this profession has become obsolete. There are no leggers now. For four hours Eynsham Harry and I lay upon our sides on the wings that are fitted to the boat for the purpose, and legged every inch of the two and three-quarter miles. It is no gentle job. Countless were the number of times I looked on ahead to that faint pin-point of light; but by such infinite degress did it grow larger as we neared the end, that I thought we should never reach it. I saw the pin-point of light growing to the pin's head, and still we laboured on, only resting a few moments to light a fresh piece of candle or take breath.
It was evening when we came out into the light again and, though the sun had set, with shadows falling everywhere, it almost dazzled me. A barge in the next lock rose above the lock's arms, with every line cut out against the pale sky. (1911)
The Hunting of the Snark by Lewis Carroll
"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the
top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.
"Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a
Snark! I have said it thrice:
What I tell you three times is
true."
The crew was complete: it included a Boots—
A maker of
Bonnets and Hoods—
A Barrister, brought to arrange their
disputes—
And a Broker, to value their goods.
A Billiard-marker, whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps
have won more than his share—
But a Banker, engaged at
enormous expense,
Had the whole of their cash in his care.
There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
Or would
sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said)
saved them from wreck,
Though none of the sailors knew how.
There was one who was famed for the number of things
He
forgot when he entered the ship:
His umbrella, his watch, all
his jewels and rings,
And the clothes he had bought for the
trip.
He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name
painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the
fact,
They were all left behind on the beach. (March 1876)
The Tom Puddings by Duncan Davis
Sometime in 1974 someone told me about the "Tom Puddings" of the Aire and Calder Navigation. "What a brilliant film that would make" so I gathered some cameras and travelled from London to the grey, murky landscape of Goole in Yorkshire.
I arranged to stay with a tugboat captain and his family while I shot some photographs as research. Goff Sherbum was a cheery Yorkshireman; he and his family made me welcome, fed me, settled me into my room then broke the news that I would need to be up early to catch the tide out of Goole. We were to take a line of tubs each filled with 40tons of coal up to the power station at Ferrybridge by way of the Aire and Calder Navigation.
I was shaken awake at 4 o'clock with a mug of tea, and Goff shoved me out of the front door into the dark street of terraced houses leading to the docks. Photographing tubs of coal instead of pretty girls advertising jewellery didn't strike me then as one of my brightest ideas.
We reached the wharf and the other two crewmen were already aboard the tug "Wheldale". George was pouring steaming tea from a brown tea-pot. I had never seen such black tea. George, had only recently been released from hospital after a bout of 'tea poisoning'. Judging by the amount of this black stewed liquid he consumed on the voyage I could only imagine the doctors surprise when they peeked in and saw the colour of his insides. The stuff certainly woke me up. (2013)
On The River by ALF WILLIAMS
It was a skillful job, being a tugboat skipper. You'd go up river with half a dozen barges in the tow, about two thousand ton. The art of it was to make use of the tide. It came off the point into the bight, or from the bight into the point. And through working it dozens and dozens of times, we'd get to know every point so we could find our way even in the dark. That's the art of it to know your way in the dark, not only on moonlight night. Or you'd get in plenty of trouble, if you hit one of those bridges.
The tide sets onto the bridges, like at Waterloo, it sloshes round there. If you want to make a successful passage through the archway, you want to steer to the abutment, because you'll get carried away from it. The abutment is the of the bridge that's in the water, the sharp bit. If you hit it you part know you've hit it! You steer towards the abutment because the force of the water goes through the open arch, and if you steer your tug towards that abutment, and then at the last minute come away from it, the force of the tide took you through. This is at the time when tugs weren't as powerful. (1989)
Narrow Boat Venture by John Poole
My mind is taken back some fifteen years to a mooring on a canal arm.
The enthusiast on the next mooring owned a small 15ft. cabin cruiser. He lived in London and would arrive every holiday time with some new equipment or fitting. These innovations would be installed with great ceremony and with many assurances as to their safety value when eventually he would take his boat into the river and down to the estuary. His wife in the background would raise her eyes from her knitting and, with a tolerant smile on her face, slowly move her head from side to side. She knew, without any doubt whatever, that he would never take the boat from the mooring and in fact, for as long as we were there he never did.
One holiday time he arrived with a new sea toilet and this, for ease of connection was mounted as near as possible to the sea-cock outlet. To connect it he had brought a length of 2½in. bore, semi-rigid transparent plastic tube. As, due to the acuteness of the bend, it was impossible to make a short connecting link, the whole length had to be employed. It must have been an absolutely fantastic experience to sit and work the pump handle and watch the contents of the loo describe a graceful arc before one's eyes before disappearing over the left shoulder and out of the sea-cock. (1975)
Pontcysyllte Aqueduct Restoration Winter 2003 - Spring 2004 by Richard J Turner-Thomas
Being a Welshman entrusted with the 2003-04 restoration of a Grade I National Monument and Welsh treasure, Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, I was on cloud nine with pride. This was the culmination of a varied career with projects supervised in 15 countries worldwide and was the jewel in the crown.
Needing final funding approval from the EU and National Welsh Assembly, the project was three weeks late starting, and on a cold winter night in November I arrived at Trevor Basin site offices with a car full of bedding and clothes. Having held on for the start of the contract for almost two months, I was £4,000 in debt and strapped for cash. Jimmy, the security guard, looked at the ice on the canal and offered the warmer site-canteen to sleep in, rather than my car. He guessed, to my amusement, that I was a site labourer rather than the new site supervisor. We spent the evenings that week watching television and eating a meal cooked on site discussing that another security guard was needed for the south abutment of the aqueduct, which could not be reached by vehicle.
British Waterways’ solution to not being able to deliver a security guard's cabin was to supply a narrow boat, but could not find a guard prepared to be on a narrowboat in an isolated country location. The position also required a degree of knowledge of submersible pump operation. I offered to do this job, and BW were notified that I was staying on the narrowboat at night, and probably not connecting that I was also carrying out the duties of the night security guard. I was working a 60 to 70 hour week on the dayshift and servicing the dewatering submersibles every four to five hours at night. My debts were rapidly repaid.
A week later I was joined by my 11-stone Leonberger dog who adopted the boat as his home, allowing no one else to enter the cabin and deeply growling his authority. Big Bob’s booming bark let the world know if anyone was aboard during the night. He had a job to do and he did it well. (2005)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We got to Waterloo at eleven, and asked where the eleven-five started from. Of course nobody knew; nobody at Waterloo ever does know where a train is going to start from, or where a train when it does start is going to, or anything about it. The porter who took our things thought it would go from number two platform, while another porter, with whom he discussed the question, had heard a rumour that it would go from number one. The station-master, on the other hand, was convinced it would start from the local.
To put an end to the matter, we went upstairs, and asked the traffic superintendent, and he told us that he had just met a man, who said he had seen it at number three platform. We went to number three platform, but the authorities there said that they rather thought that train was the Southampton express, or else the Windsor loop. But they were sure it wasn’t the Kingston train, though why they were sure it wasn’t they couldn’t say.
Then our porter said he thought that must be it on the high-level platform; said he thought he knew the train. So we went to the high-level platform, and saw the engine-driver, and asked him if he was going to Kingston. He said he couldn’t say for certain of course, but that he rather thought he was. Anyhow, if he wasn’t the 11.5 for Kingston, he said he was pretty confident he was the 9.32 for Virginia Water, or the 10 a.m. express for the Isle of Wight, or somewhere in that direction, and we should all know when we got there. We slipped half-a-crown into his hand, and begged him to be the 11.5 for Kingston. “Nobody will ever know, on this line,” we said, “what you are, or where you’re going. You know the way, you slip off quietly and go to Kingston.”
“Well, I don’t know, gents,” replied the noble fellow, “but I suppose _some_ train’s got to go to Kingston; and I’ll do it. Gimme the half-crown.” Thus we got to Kingston by the London and South-Western Railway. We learnt, afterwards, that the train we had come by was really the Exeter mail, and that they had spent hours at Waterloo, looking for it, and nobody knew what had become of it.
Our boat was waiting for us at Kingston just below the bridge. (1889)
Narrow Boat Venture by John Poole
We did not leave Bow Locks till an hour or so after high water, in company with a tug and its lighter: we fairly flew down the two miles-long, tortuous, muddy creek and shot out into the broad waters of the Thames like a cork out of a bottle. The tug with its lighter skidded off down-river on the strong ebb with the skipper waving his arms and pointing vigorously up-stream. The steerer just had time to collect his wits before taking action to prevent us from being swept on to a large mooring buoy, almost as big as Barrhead. The buoy, straining at its cable was showing an impressive bow wave and though our engine was at full throttle, equivalent to 7 knots over the ground, we did not appear to be gaining on it. We were not in real danger, but the narrow boat was out of her element in these conditions and any false move or misjudgement could have put us at hazard.
By moving as close inshore as possible we found that we could make some progress. There were two separate two-way traffic systems, with the large freighters in the middle, tugs, pleasure steamers and the like on either side and lines of moored lighters- like taxi ranks-on the outside. We crept along between the lighters and the shore.
As the river swept round a long bend we found ourselves travelling much further than we cared for. Taking his courage in both hands Jeremy waited for the traffic to thin out and crossed to the other side. We were about in the middle of the main shipping lane when a hovercraft appeared from nowhere and roared past. As it left the water it raised a large wave and this, after a few seconds, was straddled by Barrhead.
Once on the other side of the river progress improved greatly, the current being much weaker on the inside of the bend. The river now swung right-handed so we decided to change sides again. Jeremy had almost completed the manoeuvre when the boat was again caught in rough water. We had a big tanker to port of us and a hovercraft coming up astern. Just as we were about to ride the tanker's wash the hovercraft took off, setting up a rolling wave that added further confusion to the water ahead of us. Jeremy turned into the biggest waves and hoped for the best. Our blunt fore-end hit them with a hearty smack and disappeared into a cloud of flying water. Barrhead pitched forward alarmingly and the engine raced away as the propellor came out of the river. There were cries of alarm from below and we could hear the sound of breaking crockery and the clatter of cooking pans as they slithered to the floor of the galley.
Once through the broken water, we lost no time in regaining our refuge behind the lines of moored lighters. It was plainly apparent - if indeed we needed further convincing - that flat bottomed narrow boats are definitely not suitable for these conditions. (1975)
WINDLASS No 5 - From Camden to Aylesbury by Tim M Thornton
Our craft was a nine foot pram dinghy powered by a 1 hp "Seagull" outboard motor; oars and a hauling rope were carried for emergencies. We had almost reached Rickmansworth by night, where we decided to leave the boat. A surprised, but kind lady allowed us to leave the boat in her garden, and we returned on the following Tuesday afternoon, laden with food, sleeping bags clothes and petrol.
We planned to reach Boxmoor that day, and about a mile short we met a lock-keeper at the Apsley flight. He offered us a private back-water to moor up for the night, he added that it was mainly blocked by gravel. I misunderstood his directions, and ran aground with a jolt. After shoving clear we moored up successfully, and thought no more about it.
"Tim, Tim, we're sinking" hummed through a delightful dream, I grunted "shut up," and continued sleeping. Again I was disturbed by being violently kicked, and a voice saying "the boat is full of water, I am getting out." Reluctantly, and sceptically I touched icy cold water! I leapt from my sleeping bag and scrambled ashore.
Not being on speaking terms, we stood and shivered on the bank in the cold night air at 1.30am. The night was too far spent to disturb people, so we peered around in the darkness for a hut. We found near the canal a workshop with its door open, and settled down to sleep on the floor.
Just after 8am we finally awoke, staggered out of the hut and were grabbed by an irate foreman, who called it all sauce. He had sent for the local police, who soon arrived by car, followed by a motor-bike. Three young, amused, policemen set about questioning us, about the colour of our eyes, and the size of our shoes. We showed them the half sunk boat, and there insued a long conversation about canals.
We had to remove many half-pints of water from the craft before she was ready to leave. (June 1957)
THE WATERWAYS ANNUAL Canals And Rivers by Robert Aickman
The technical problems of boating are much exaggerated in waterside saloons, though nothing can save people from themselves, ashore or afloat; but the romance it would be difficult to exaggerate.
The family man cannot suddenly take his family to sea for a holiday. It is far too dangerous, unless they are thoroughly used to it. A rapidly increasing number are, but it is still a small minority. If the family go on an inland waterway, they will find much the same scope for initiative, much the same element of adventure, without the element of danger. Most of all they will find that the few feet of water between the boat and the land are magical. You think this is whimsy? Once more, go and see. When about to navigate, it reduces anxiety to remember one fact: all but a very few miles of all our canals and rivers are beautiful in one way or another, and good to visit. I hope you will not rest until you have seen the whole system.
Ladies of all ages should wear trousers when boating, young children should wear life- jackets; gentlemen should not look as if they had just escaped from a compulsory spell in Siberia. Domesticity should be shared - and navigating. It might be sensible to aim at a minimum of twenty miles a day.
Waterways everywhere stand for deep philosophic truths: the equation of beauty with function; the equation of work with joy; the reconciliation of man with nature; the reconciliation of all men and women in a common experience. (1965)
INLAND CRUISING Intrusion by Sir A P Herbert
I was in Australia; my brave wife, with three small children, took our first boat, 43 feet long, from somewhere near Stratford to Birmingham. She could not work the engine, so she hired a horse, and a man. Neither horse nor man was trained to the canal. Sometimes the horse fell in, sometimes he thrust his way through a hedge and began grazing.
A few miles from Birmingham, the man took my wife's purse and departed, leaving her with a large boat, a large horse, three children and no money. But she got to Birmingham - and home, by train.
You can have adventures on these placid waters. (1966)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Harris threw away the sculls, got up and left his seat, and sat on his back, and stuck his legs in the air. Montmorency howled, and turned a somersault, and the top hamper jumped up, and all the things came out.
I was somewhat surprised, but I did not lose my temper. I said, pleasantly enough:
“Hulloa! what’s that for?”
“What’s that for? Why —”
No, on second thoughts, I will not repeat what Harris said. I may have been to blame, I admit it; but nothing excuses violence of language and coarseness of expression, especially in a man who has been carefully brought up, as I know Harris has been. I was thinking of other things, and forgot, as anyone might easily understand, that I was steering, and the consequence was that we had got mixed up a good deal with the tow-path.
It was difficult to say, for the moment, which was us and which was the Middlesex bank of the river; but we found out after a while, and separated ourselves. (1889)
My Holidays On Inland Waterways by P Bonthron
So as not to lose any time, we were towed right to Sapperton Tunnel, some seven miles on. This Sapperton is a fine piece of tunnelling, and, one of the longest in England, being 3,808 yards, or 2¼ miles in length. Our intention was to motor through, but with the engine racing a little, and with patches of weeds here and there in the tunnel we decided to work the boat through with the aid of our boathooks and of a wire running along the side. We accomplished this rather exciting piece of work in one hour and 35 minutes - all hands being at work. Both at the entrance to the tunnel and at the exit the rural scenery is very striking.
After this, the lock work begins seriously from the summit at Daneway, with group after group of locks, there being 28 for the remaining seven miles to Walbridge Stroud (Glos), and this took us from 2.15 p.m. up till half-past eight. The scenery on the latter run is of the finest description: one has the splendid advantage of seeing what is known as the Golden Valley to the fullest extent. As one wends one's way down the scenic effects are very fine indeed; in fact this part of the trip amply repaid us for any tediousness there was in coming through the multitudinous locks, which are so slow in filling. After the tunnel, our motor, working well, was brought into requisition, and we continued with it right through from there. We had the service of lock-keepers nearly all the way down, otherwise it would have entailed a heavy day's work. We were rather unfortunate with our locks here, in so far that a barge was ahead of us and the locks were against us all the way through. In consequence of this, our day's run was curtailed by, say, a couple of hours, but one must accept the inevitable in canal life. We duly reached Walbridge Stroud, the end of the Thames and Severn Canal. (1916)
I'd Go Back Tomorrow by Mike Lucas
I had grown fond of playing Napoleon Diggle, despite the discomfort of wearing an animal costume made out of very cheap fur fabric. I had a request from a teacher bringing a class of seven-year-olds to Tunnel End in Marsden. So I could be seen walking up the towpath from my house to the tunnel wearing my Diggle costume, and noticed that the children were already there. I slithered down the hillside scratching my ears and behaving generally Diggle-like.
Not only did the children not know who I was but the teachers didn't either. Not the right school party. Eventually, the right group arrived and I again ran down scratching and preening myself. This time the reaction was staggering with pertinent questions about my life in the tunnel as a Diggle who lived on mushrooms and brewed fungal ale (2001)
The House by the River by A. P. Herbert
It was nearly high tide. Stephen Byrne stood at the end of his garden and regarded contentedly the River Thames. The warm glow of sunset lingered about the houses by Hammersmith Bridge and the tall trees on the Surrey side. The busy tugs went by, hurrying up with the last of the flood, long chains of barges swishing delightfully behind them.
High tide was a great moment at Hammerton Chase. There was a tremendous feeling of fulfilment, of achievement, about the river when the flood was still sweeping up, wandering on to the road on one bank and almost topping the towpath on the other, making Hammerton Reach a broad and dignified affair. The time went quickly when the tide was high. There were long hours when the tide was low, when the river dwindled to a mean and dejected stream, creeping narrowly along between gloomy stretches of mud and brickbats and broken crockery, where the boats lay protesting and derelict in uncomfortable attitudes. There was a sense of disappointment then, of stagnation and failure. Those who lived by the river and loved and studied it were keenly susceptible to the tides. (1921)
IWA Milepost - Canalling Experiences by Peter J Scott
First week’s canal trip, as students in 1971, a cold Easter on nb Grebe from Willow Wren Rugby. Five of the ten of us had been canalling before, so by the time we reached Hawkesbury, it was dark and time for me to have a go at steering. John stood with me around a few bends and bridges, and then the delights of coffee inside were greater than standing on the gunwales: parting advice “if in trouble, tiller hard over and lots more oomph”.
All OK for a while, then we came upon the nasty bend at Charity Dock – there was just 7' on the towpath side with the offside-moored boats in various states of disarray, and a legendarily intolerant-of-idiots owner skulking somewhere out-of-sight. The front-end started to go where it wanted to, with what I now recognise as touching-the-mud on the inside of the corner – we did have 36” of boat under the counter – so I followed John's advice and sent a rush of water towards the towpath. Disaster and a collision loomed…
But we went round like a dream, completely beginner’s luck, and I wonder if the alternative would have cured me of the canalling addiction... (2012)
English Canals Explained by Stan Yorke
At first there was no highway code for the canals and rules were soon needed to control the boats especially on the busy industrial sections.
When one horse drawn boat passed another, someone had to give way and allow their towing rope to fall to the bottom of the canal to enable the other boat to pass over it.
Rules were drawn up as to which type of boat or cargo had precedence but often it came down to who shouted the loudest (2003)
The Water Road by Paul Gogarty
It's difficult not to wax poetically about the pacific effects of water. There is something inside us that is only stilled when we're beside sea, river or canal. Birmingham's waterfront regeneration shows an awareness – unconscious or otherwise - of this fact and a rejection of its earlier post-Second World War slavish city design around the motor car, in favour of the pedestrian. Now the revival needs to travel further along the water road, seeping into other suburban pores, soft-landscaping its hard-edged neighbourhoods, creating a network of water villages linked by water buses. (2002)
Hitchhikers' Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams
Humans think they are smarter than dolphins because we build cars and buildings and start wars etc., and all that dolphins do is swim in the water, eat fish and play around.
Dolphins believe that they are smarter than humans for exactly the same reasons. (1978)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We had taken up an oil-stove once, but “never again.” It had been like living in an oil-shop that week. It oozed. I never saw such a thing as paraffine oil is to ooze. We kept it in the nose of the boat, and, from there, it oozed down to the rudder, impregnating the whole boat and everything in it on its way, and it oozed over the river, and saturated the scenery and spoilt the atmosphere. Sometimes a westerly oily wind blew, and at other times an easterly oily wind, and sometimes it blew a northerly oily wind, and maybe a southerly oily wind; but whether it came from the Arctic snows, or was raised in the waste of the desert sands, it came alike to us laden with the fragrance of paraffine oil.
And that oil oozed up and ruined the sunset; and as for the moonbeams, they positively reeked of paraffine.
We tried to get away from it at Marlow. We left the boat by the bridge, and took a walk through the town to escape it, but it followed us. The whole town was full of oil. We passed through the church-yard, and it seemed as if the people had been buried in oil. The High Street stunk of oil; we wondered how people could live in it. And we walked miles upon miles out Birmingham way; but it was no use, the country was steeped in oil. (1889)
1972 Convention on the International Regulations for Preventing Collisions at Sea as amended ... by International Maritime Organization
Distress signals 1. The following signals, used or exhibited either together or separately, indicate distress and need of assistance: ...
(b) a continuous sounding with any fog signalling apparatus;...
(d) a signal made by any signalling method consisting of the group . . . - - - . . . (SOS) in the Morse Code;
(e) a signal sent by radiotelephony consisting of the spoken word "MAYDAY"; ...
(k) slowly and repeatedly raising and lowering arms outstretched to each side;
(l) a distress alert by means of digital selective calling (DSC) transmitted on: (i) VHF channel 70; or ...
... (2007)
The Narrowboats Story by Nick Corble
By 1660 there were 680 miles of navigable river in the UK, and over the next seventy-five years improvements to the Aire in Yorkshire and the Avon, Kennet and Wey in the south added a further 500 miles to this total. These improved rivers became known as 'navigations', a term still in use today, but they remained human adjustments to natural phenomena, and as such each was at best a compromise.
Equally, the notion of totally artificial waterways, independent of rivers, whose flows could be controlled by men, wasn't a new one and, as with so many other things, the Romans had led the way. As with plumbing and road building these useful skills had been lost, however, and Britain had to wait over a thousand years before attempts were made to revive canal-building, and even this was brief.
Opened in 1566, the Exeter Canal was a five-mile waterway built to by-pass a particularly troublesome weir. This canal was the first in Britain to use 'pound' locks: chambers secured by wooden gates in which boats could rise or fall through the controlled release or addition of water, with the sides of the lock covered in turf. Ingenious though this was, the idea didn't catch on and it took another hundred years before the idea of locks was used again, as part of the improvements to the Wey. While canals on a grand scale took off in France, with the Canal du Midi opening in 1681, the notion was slow to catch on across the Channel.
The next attempt to create a totally independent canal had to wait for a further seventy-five years, until 1737, when Scroop Egerton, the First Duke of Bridgewater, applied to Parliament for an Act to convert a brook linking his coal mines at Worsley west of Manchester to that growing town. In the end the idea came to nought, defeated on the grounds of both practicality and cost, as well as opposition from vested interests, notably the existing Mersey and Irwell Navigation, and the owners of turnpike roads. (2012)
Rivers and Canals by Leveson Francis Vernon-Harcourt
Navigation Canals. Generally canals constructed for the purposes of navigation are totally distinct works from drainage and irrigation canals, although these latter are sometimes utilized for navigation.
Before the advent of railways numerous inland canals were constructed in France, Italy, Holland, Belgium, Great Britain, North America, China, and elsewhere, for facilitating the conveyance of goods, owing to the great reduction in the tractive force required on water as compared with traction along ordinary roads. These canals were formed in a series of level reaches; and the differences in elevation of the reaches were surmounted at their extremities by locks or inclined planes. They were made for connecting centres of population where no navigable rivers existed, and for connecting two adjoining river navigations by traversing the lowest point of the ridge separating their valleys; and lateral canals have also been constructed to provide a waterway in place of a portion of a river, where, owing to rocky shoals or a very rapid fall, the river presents serious obstacles to navigation.
The canal works carried out during the latter half of the eighteenth, and the earlier part of the nineteenth century, established water communication between the principal towns of England and the chief seaports; and Paris has been connected by water with the principal towns of France and the coalfields of Belgium, by means of canals and river navigations. New York possesses access by water to the large inland lakes by the Hudson River and the Erie Canal, and is connected with the Delaware River by the Morris Canal; whilst a through route by water has been formed between Lake Michigan and the Gulf of Mexico, by the construction of the Illinois and Michigan Canal, which connects the lake with the Illinois River, and consequently with the Mississippi. (1896)
Shropshire Union Fly-Boats by Jack Roberts
We now entered an unusual aqueduct(*), where the horse walked along the bottom of the tank ... The horse could comfortably take a drink out of the canal in the tank, by simply turning his head. This was about seven foot six wide and built over a brook and marshy ground.
(*) Longdon-upon-Tern Aqueduct, Shrewsbury Canal in 1907 (1965)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We rowed on all that day through the rain, and very melancholy work it was. We pretended, at first, that we enjoyed it. We said it was a change, and that we liked to see the river under all its different aspects. We said we could not expect to have it all sunshine, nor should we wish it. We told each other that Nature was beautiful, even in her tears.
Indeed, Harris and I were quite enthusiastic about the business, for the first few hours. And we sang a song about a gipsy’s life, and how delightful a gipsy’s existence was! — free to storm and sunshine, and to every wind that blew!—and how he enjoyed the rain, and what a lot of good it did him; and how he laughed at people who didn’t like it.
George took the fun more soberly, and stuck to the umbrella. (1889)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We got afloat in the morning after our swim and a hearty breakfast, and it came on to rain soon after we left Stoke-on-Trent; but as we were well prepared with macintoshes to face the elements, we proceeded cheerily on our way. After paddling for about four miles we came to the entrance of another long tunnel, which we entered, after taking the precaution to provide ourselves with candles.
We had a nasty experience in navigating through this tunnel, which I should not much care to encounter again. After proceeding cautiously for some distance, during which we had to avoid a ducking, and possibly a swamping, from the numerous "weep-holes" that let showers of land water descend from the roof, our candle suddenly went out and left us in total darkness. To make matters worse, a lot of land-water was coming through the tunnel, which, together with the backwash of a tug some little way ahead of us, tried us considerably, and finally wedged our canoe between the two walls of the tunnel. We did not relish the situation at all, especially as we could not take stock of our whereabouts; but after a deal of rocking and shoving (during which we had a narrow escape from capsizing), we managed to get the canoe clear of the walls, and worked our way backwards, hand-over-hand, to the mouth of the tunnel.
After this experience we were strangely unanimous as to the desirability of going through in some less risky manner (we accused each other of "funking" afterwards), and accordingly sought the aid of a man, a boy, and a wheelbarrow, and in this unconventional manner conveyed our goods and chattels overland to the other end of the tunnel.
The passage of barges through some of these tunnels is performed in a very curious manner, as owing to the roofs being too low to admit of tugs passing through, the heavily laden canal barges have to be "footed" along by men and boys lying on their backs and pushing against the roof or walls of the tunnel. (1899)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
We still had seven locks in twenty miles before we were due to leave the Thames at Oxford. This meant seven more lock-keepers. On the whole the keepers are a good tempered crowd who have to witness endless near-disasters and, very occasionally, the real thing. The lock-keeper is still a force to be met and very occasionally reckoned with.
We had our first and only real engagement with a keeper shortly after setting out from Shillingford. In fact we Had Our Name Taken. This in itself constitutes a form of disgrace, so I'm told. The bone of contention was Swan's Gardner engine which we wouldn't stop when ordered to do so. One of the Thames byelaws stipulates that engines must be turned off if more than one boat is in a lock. The previous twenty-six keepers had not thought fit to draw our attention to this detail, nor did any of the ones remaining.
Engines should be stopped on the grounds of safety and inconvenience to other users. Anyone who has wrestled with Swan's hot bulb diesel will know that these qualities are best attained by keeping the thing running. To restart, a highly tempestuous blowlamp would have to be brandished for about ten minutes or so. The engine might then have started in reverse, as it sometimes did, or have staged some of its other idiosyncrasies. It ran very well once it was running; we found it best to keep it that way. (1971)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
A paddle of some length brought us to the Stoke entrance of the well-known Blisworth Tunnel, which is a mile and a-half in length, and forms the first of a series along the route.
Seeing one of the curious little tug-boats about to proceed through the tunnel, we obtained permission from one of the very grimy crew to place our canoe aboard, and, this safely accomplished, the tug puffed and snorted up to the entrance, hitched on to a string of barges, and with a deal of fuss and smoke entered the tunnel.
The journey through this subterranean passage was a most novel one to us who had never been through a tunnel of this description before. The intense darkness, only illuminated by the light from the boiler fire, was most uncanny, while the wonderful reverberations and echoes occurring in the tunnel quite startled us until we became used to the situation. The roof seemed so low that we instinctively stooped our heads to avoid getting them removed from our shoulders, an action which caused immense amusement to the skipper, who, in the manner of his kind, accentuated the eerie feeling of the place by spinning all sorts of creepy yarns about canal boatmen who had mysteriously gone overboard in the pitch dark, and never been seen again.
We drew a long breath when we emerged into the welcome blinking daylight at the other end of the tunnel, and soon after bade good-bye to our whilom friend the skipper. I can imagine no place more calculated to quickly shatter the nerves and break the health of a human being than one of those foul, suffocating tunnels under the hills. (1899)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Ours was the first boat, and it would be unkind of me to spoil the man’s picture, I thought. So I faced round quickly, and took up a position in the prow, where I leant with careless grace upon the hitcher, in an attitude suggestive of agility and strength. I arranged my hair with a curl over the forehead, and threw an air of tender wistfulness into my expression, mingled with a touch of cynicism, which I am told suits me.
As we stood, waiting for the eventful moment, I heard someone behind call out: “Hi! look at your nose.” I could not turn round to see what was the matter, and whose nose it was that was to be looked at. I stole a side-glance at George’s nose! It was all right—at all events, there was nothing wrong with it that could be altered. I squinted down at my own, and that seemed all that could be expected also.
“Look at your nose, you stupid ass!” came the same voice again, louder. And then another voice cried: “Push your nose out, can’t you, you—you two with the dog!” Neither George nor I dared to turn round. The man’s hand was on the cap, and the picture might be taken any moment. Was it us they were calling to? What was the matter with our noses? Why were they to be pushed out! But now the whole lock started yelling, and a stentorian voice from the back shouted: “Look at your boat, sir; you in the red and black caps. It’s your two corpses that will get taken in that photo, if you ain’t quick.”
We looked then, and saw that the nose of our boat had got fixed under the woodwork of the lock, while the in-coming water was rising all around it, and tilting it up. In another moment we should be over. Quick as thought, we each seized an oar, and a vigorous blow against the side of the lock with the butt-ends released the boat, and sent us sprawling on our backs.
We did not come out well in that photograph, George and I. Of course, as was to be expected, our luck ordained it, that the man should set his wretched machine in motion at the precise moment that we were both lying on our backs with a wild expression of “Where am I? and what is it?” on our faces, and our four feet waving madly in the air. (1889)
The Inland Waterways Manual by Emrhys Barrell
If you or one of your crew fall off your boat, mostly it will merely be inconvenient, wet and amusing. Sometimes, however, life could be at risk. It is essential, therefore, that everyone aboard knows what to do in this situation. On most of our canals, the depths are less than 3ft - waist deep on most adults. However, it is another matter for children which is why they should wear lifejackets at all times. Also, locks will be much deeper, up to 12ft when full.
◆ If someone falls off the boat shout 'man overboard'. Never mind how dramatic or hackneyed this sounds, it will be immediately understood.
◆ The helmsman should immediately put the engine into neutral to stop the boat and avoid any risk of injury from the prop.
◆ As soon as the victim is located, you should throw a lifebuoy to them. Every craft should have at least one of these; it should be mounted close to the helm, ready for use. ...
◆ Do not throw the lifebuoy straight at the person in the water. The round belts are hard and will cause a nasty knock
◆ Point continuously at the victim, calling out their position to the helmsman. If you are in rough water or it is dark, the casualty could soon be lost to view.
◆ Once it is certain that the victim has reached the belt, the helmsman can set about recovering them. By this time they will probably be astern. On a narrow canal it will not be possible to turn so you have to reverse very carefully aware of the risk of injuring them with the prop.
◆ The next priority is to get a rope round the casualty, to stop them sinking or drifting away.
◆ If they have been injured when going overboard, and are unconscious or unable to help themselves, you should consider putting an able-bodied adult over the side, with a lifejacket on, but only if this does not deplete the crew on board. At all times you should reassure the casualty. (1993)
Waterways past and present by Derek Pratt
The Lancaster Canal was an isolated waterway cut off from the rest of the system until the building of the Ribble Link in 2002. A small stream called the Savick Brook was canalised and made navigable by constructing a number of locks. This raised the new waterway from the River Ribble to the Lancaster Canal on the outskirts of Preston. Boats can now reach the Lancaster Canal via the Leeds and Liverpool Canal, the River Douglas and the River Ribble.
The success of the Ribble Link has given hope to proposed new canals such as the Bedford and Grand Union Link to Milton Keynes which would provide an alternative route into the Fenland waterways. (2006)
Round England by River and Canal by George Westall
In the stormy days of what the calendar ironically indicated to be the summer of 1907, two well-seasoned "wet bobs" and another embarked in a motor boat, 25ft. by 5ft3in., drawing about 20in. and installed with a 6BHP. petrol-paraffin engine, for a tour of the inland waterways, with the intention to make a complete circuit of the river and canal navigations round England.
The proposal was described as rather "a large order", and meaning smiles and sarcastic jibes were plentiful; but we invariably took refuge in the fact that there was the blessed railway, and in the worst case we might utilise the iron horse for bringing us back to home and duty. Strange narratives were related to us concerning the vagaries of some craft of the motor genus, narratives in which pæans of praise and words of adulation predominated, others in which hot tempestuous terms of powerful adjectival calibre seemed all too weak to give a character to the mysterious little monster which has so rapidly deposed its ancient relation the steam engine from such jobs as that we are about to tell of.
We would do the best we could, for making the little ship not only a dwelling by day but also a dormitory by night, stores were laid in and, with our first objective as Leicester, after having paid £3 as toll to navigate the Grand Junction Canal through to the hosiery capital, we waved adieux, and soon found ourselves busy among the barges in Brentford basin and in passing the "bunches" of locks which hold up the waterway along the western suburbs through which it runs.
Our first day's work - twenty-three and a half miles and twenty-seven locks - no great distance, but our start was not an early one, there had been some rainfall, and we were unwilling to overdo that lock-gear "grinding" at the commencement of our pilgrimage. The fuel we used was almost exclusively paraffin, and with just a passing fit of the sulks occasionally - our good little motor had behaved like a real lady and we determined that she should be courted and groomed and well turned out every day, in a manner befitting a creation of such grace and virtue.
We were astir early on the morrow, and a plunge into the clear water of the canal provided a capital "tub", and with the aid of a cup of tea, got underway while breakfast was in preparation. (1908)
Tombleson's Thames by William Tombleson
In 1775 a canal was formed by Act of Parliament from Framlode on the Severn to Wallbridge near Stroud, and called the Stroudwater Canal, a distance of rather more than 8 miles, in which space there is a fall of 802 feet.
By Acts of the 22nd, 31st, and 36th of Geo.III. leave was granted to put into execution the important plan of bringing the Stroud Canal into junction with the Isis and the Thames. In 1782 several opulent individuals in London, chiefly merchants, engaged the able and intelligent engineer Mr Robert Whitworth to make a draught and estimate of the expenses, and in 1783, when the Act was finally obtained, it was expected that the sum of £130,000 would be sufficient to complete the work, but that, in case of emergency, the sum of £60,000 was to be raised on mortgage. The citizens of the metropolis, sanguine in the success of the enterprise, subscribed the requisite amount; and so zealous were many in the cause that the connexions of one mercantile house alone contributed £23,000, and others £10,000.
In less than seven years the canal was completed, and on the 19th November 1789 the first vessel passed from the Severn into the Thames. (1834)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Among folk too constitutionally weak, or too constitutionally lazy, whichever it may be, to relish up-stream work, it is a common practice to get a boat at Oxford, and row down.
For the energetic, however, the up-stream journey is certainly to be preferred. It does not seem good to be always going with the current. There is more satisfaction in squaring one’s back, and fighting against it, and winning one’s way forward in spite of it.
At least, so I feel, when Harris and George are sculling and I am steering. (1889)
The River Runs Uphill by Robert Aickman
The [Inland Waterways] Association's first Annual General Meeting took place on 31 May 1947. It began in my house, with sandwiches and sociabilities, and passed on to the premises of the Association for Planning and Regional Reconstruction in Gordon Square, one of the several bodies that were already regarding our work and beliefs with sympathy. About sixty people appeared. Peter Scott was in the chair, and later presided over a large, informal dinner at a Greek restaurant named the Blue Windmill, which the movement often patronised at that period.
The decor, though simple, consisting largely of pale blue paint and very thick flowered carpets, was strikingly spick and span, and no one had to think of paying much more than five shillings for a large and excellent meal.
When we started a Midlands Branch, and from it came Cyril Taplin as a Council Member, I used on the occasion of each monthly session to walk with him from the Blue Windmill to Euston Station for the midnight train to Birmingham. I attached great importance to this regular social sequel to the business meetings, and it was noticeable how the Council lost colour and cohesiveness when, as it increased in number, individual Members began to say that they thought they had better get home to their families without waiting for dinner. (1986)
Know Your Waterways (foreward) by Peter Scott
Until I spent a month cruising the canals in a narrow boat I had no idea how utterly satisfying it could be; the gentle pleasure of travelling with your home, of seeing remote parts of the countryside from a new angle.
Unlike the roads, the canals have for the most part escaped ribbon development. When they do pass through towns and villages, it is through the quieter parts, through the back garden, so to speak; parts you do not normally see if you pass along the facades of the main streets.
I was surprised at the number of long, lonely stretches of canal in the highly populated Midlands. I was surprised by the beauty of Birmingham seen from the waterways. In a boat, too, there is that wonderful feeling of isolation and detachment - a spell which can scarcely be broken even by 'going ashore for a meal' in some restaurant or hotel. And then, of course, there is no telephone, surely one of the greatest advantages of all.
I found it ideal as a holiday - peaceful, with an ever changing scene. But there is a more active aspect than this; there is the knowledge and skill required to navigate the boat and to work the locks. There are sudden groundings, narrow bridges which are narrowly missed, claustrophobic tunnels in which the boat may stick, engine failures and unpremeditated immersions.
It was all a new world to me and one which is hard to imagine until you have seen it, indeed lived in it. It is beautiful and peaceful and at the same time it fires the imagination and nourishes the Spirit of Adventure. (1955)
English Rivers and Canals by Frank Eyre & Charles Hadfield
Rivers are not to be known from books. There may be persons who enjoy these tedious collections of familiar facts, who like to know that the Lady Blanche was immured for seven years in the castle which you can just see if you climb that hill four miles from the river, or that the old Norman church six miles to the east has some interesting brasses; but your true lover of rivers is not among them.
If you really want to learn anything about a river, you must go and look at it, follow its course by walking along its banks, or better still, by travelling down it in a canoe or whatever kind of craft you can buy or borrow. Rivers are living things and to know them intimately you must live with them, go with them on their voyaging and see the places they visit, and best of all these places are those which can only be reached by water, which only the fisherman and the canoer ever see.
Little wooded islands in midstream; shingly beaches beneath overhanging banks; backwaters, or mortlakes, made by the river cutting across the head of one of its great meanders -in places such as these it is possible to travel backwards in time with the river, living the life it has lived for centuries. For in their upper reaches our rivers often wander for as much as fifteen or twenty miles without a bridge or even a ford, and though village footpaths sometimes follow one bank for a few miles, there is always a far bank, inaccessible, remote, which the traveller by water can claim for his own. (1945)
Your Book of Waterways by Eric de Maré
A grandly ambitious scheme, now being proposed by the engineer J.F.Pownall, is the Grand Contour Canal. This would be a wide ship canal running without any locks at the same level of 310 feet above sea level.
By studying modern contour maps, Mr. Pownall discovered that at this level runs a natural line for canals right through the country. Although they made some use of this level, the old canal engineers did not, and could not then, realize the existence of this natural line. It has an escarpment rising steeply on one side of it, while on the other side the land slopes gently downwards.
The Grand Contour Canal would join up with existing waterways and also with the main estuarial ports, where large lifts would carry ships up from the river or down from the canal. The canal would not only carry sea-going cargo and passenger ships, water buses and pleasure boats right through the heart of the country, but it would also serve as a collector and distributor of water in place of the new and wasteful reservoirs which are being built; linked with natural underground reservoirs, this would be the best solution to the ever-growing problem of water supplies. Plenty of rain falls on our island but at present far too much is allowed to run uselessly to the sea. (1965)
The Inland Waterways of England by L.T.C.Rolt
Travel up the Grand Union Canal through Blisworth and Weedon where in winter the bitter east winds whip unimpeded across the great levels of the Ouse and Nene, and then turn west and south again by the Oxford Canal into the milder valley of the Cherwell. To do so is to realize that the high watershed of the North Oxfordshire wolds is still a very real boundary.
Equally obvious is the transition from the Midland plateau to the vale of Severn by the Worcester & Birmingham or the Staffordshire & Worcestershire Canals. Sometimes, however, regional boundaries are by no means so clearly defined physically and may become first apparent only by a change in local speech.
On the Welsh section of the Shropshire Union Canal, the broad north country dialect of the Cheshire plain suddenly gives place, west of Whitchurch, to the softer speech of Shropshire, a speech with a lilt which informs the discerning ear that the Welsh border is not far distant.
All these things contribute to the unique fascination of canal travel.
By attempting to analyse this appeal I may seem to have accorded the river little praise and to have been guilty of special pleading. In fact both river and canal have their particular attractions, and the most interesting water journey is that which is planned to include both. The contrast between the narrow winding canal with its unique brightly painted boats and the broad stream of a great river with its barge traffic enhances the interest of each. But if I have stressed the appeal of the canals it is because, whereas there has never been any lack of writers and poets to sing the praises of our English rivers, there have been very few with any word to say for our canals.
Temple Thurston and William Bliss are the only writers fully to appreciate the canals and to express that appreciation eloquently. It is to be hoped to inspire other writers to follow their excellent example by discovering that the canal is the way to the heart of England. (1950)
The Inland Waterways of England (foreward to reprint) by Charles Hadfield
The 1950 edition of The Inland Waterways of England was the first book ever to give the general reader a picture of the history, construction and working methods of the waterways and was written in the year when canals and river navigations, owned each by a private waterway or railway company, were gathered together by nationalisation. In that sense it marked the end of an era.
By 1948 Tom Rolt had lived and travelled on the canals alongside working boaters for ten years using Cressy as a base for his wartime jobs. Of a greater divide he was only partly aware, that the life of the working boats and boat people that he described so vividly was almost ended. He envisaged it continuing, and saw a parallel growth of pleasure cruising in junior partnership by inland waterway lovers rather like himself.
The Inland Waterways of England remains a perfect picture not only of the canals as Tom Rolt then knew and experienced them, but of a world that has gone. There is no other book like it. (1979)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We arrived at the famous swivel bridge by which the Bridgewater Canal is carried over the Manchester Ship Canal. We happened to get to this point just as the bridge was opened to traffic for the first time, and as we paddled across in state we were hailed and told that ours was the very first canoe to have the distinction of crossing the new waterway.
During the rest of the day's paddle we were in the very heart of the coal-mining district, and our progress caused no little comment and wonder to the crowds of "locked-out" miners and their families. So embarrassing became their attentions at length that we had to abandon our original intention of landing at Wigan, owing to the numerous crowd awaiting our approach at that place. Twice we essayed to get ashore, but finally, not appreciating the appearance of the motley crowd, we pushed on until we reached Plank Lane, where, the crowd of idlers being a little less dense, we summoned up pluck enough to venture shore.
Even here we found ourselves the centre of attraction to the people; rough miners crowding around as we lifted our canoe from the water, to stare in amazement at our appearance, some even going so far in their admiration of our little craft as to pass their hands along its polished sides, all the while expressing their opinions in such a broad vernacular as to be almost unintelligible to our Southern ears. They thought it was a joke upon our part when we told them that we had paddled all the way from London in the canoe. The way they nudged each other and winked solemnly was most expressive.
Their attentions at last became so overwhelming that we were compelled to give the craft into the care of the friendly lock-keeper and beat a hasty retreat. (1899)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The boat you hire up the river above Marlow is not the sort of boat in which you can flash about and give yourself airs. The hired up-river boat very soon puts a stop to any nonsense of that sort on the part of its occupants. That is its chief, one may say its only, recommendation.
The man in the hired up-river boat is modest and retiring. He likes to keep on the shady side, underneath the trees, and to do most of his travelling early in the morning or late at night, when there are not many people about on the river to look at him.
When the man in the hired up-river boat sees anyone he knows, he gets out on to the bank, and hides behind a tree. (1889)
Arteries of Commerce by Grand Union Canal Company
Transport by canal has many inherent virtues. There is no risk of damage to goods sent by water; they neither get lost nor stolen, nor do they stray. A canal boat has a greater capacity than a railway truck or motor lorry and is especially suitable for the carriage of goods of a bulky or brittle nature.
Transport by canal has the triple merits of being cheap, efficient and reliable. Where a time factor is particularly important, the speed of modern craft on the Grand Union system leaves nothing to be desired.
The old days of leisurely movement are gone forever. There is no congestion to overcome and the delays which formerly took place when boats passed through locks have been reduced to a minimum. The journey from London to Birmingham can now be accomplished in 50 hours by travelling day and night. And once the journey is begun, the arrival time can be accurately and confidently forecast. (c1933)
WATERWAYS WORLD Brought Up On A Boat by Nigel Lincoln
Our peaceful existence living aboard nbBison was shattered one afternoon when three German military vehicles came down from Iver Lane along the wide towpath towards Cowley Lock, followed by about a dozen heavily armed Nazi soldiers.
The anglers on the opposite side of the bank stood up, alarmed and fearing for their lives. For several boaters that day, the scene would have brought back terrible memories from just over a decade previously.
In fact, the soldiers were costumed actors filming a scene for the 1956 film 'Reach for the Sky' about the life of celebrated RAF pilot Douglas Bader, played by Kenneth Moore.
Later, we survived the terribly harsh winter of 1962/63 when it was estimated that the canal was frozen to a depth of 18in, though I have no recollection of being particularly cold. We had fun walking on the frozen canal, knocking on the windows of other boats and skating on the frozen gravel pits beside the canal. (Sept2021)
WATERWAYS WORLD Carry on Camping by Tim&Bridget Carter talking to Sarah Henshaw
There was a 1930s Scout cruise on the Llangollen on the hired horse-drawn camping-boat Tangmere, which became “a form of training in... adversity, determination and community living”.
The allocated boatman got blind drunk one night and had to crawl on his hands and knees to the back cabin as he could not trust himself to walk straight. While the group was moored at an old quay near Blake Mere, the boatman shouted, “T’owd ‘orse ‘as ‘gorn”, and a search party eventually located it over a mile away.
One Scout failed to use the security catch when winding up a lock paddle and sustained a deep head wound when hit by his flying windlass. Another stood up too soon under a lift-bridge, then was almost crushed when swimming between the boat and the bank. Another “foolishly walked onto the end of the top plank, which tilted and dropped him into the boat and on to a spade, which hit him and then hit all the plates, cups and cutlery”.
You would expect that some Darwinian-type law of natural selection would have, over the years, weeded out camping-boat holidays entirely. Certainly, the rise in self-drive hire craft and upmarket hotel-boats killed off many companies, while the plummeting cost of package holidays abroad ensured that by the ’90s the nail was in the coffin. But quite ‘dead’? Well, no. Not exactly (Sept2021 )
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
One young man I knew had a very sad accident happen to him the first time he went punting. He had been getting on so well that he had grown quite cheeky over the business, and was walking up and down the punt, working his pole with a careless grace that was quite fascinating to watch. Up he would march to the head of the punt, plant his pole, and then run along right to the other end, just like an old punter. Oh! it was grand.
And it would all have gone on being grand if he had not unfortunately, while looking round to enjoy the scenery, taken just one step more than there was any necessity for, and walked off the punt altogether. The pole was firmly fixed in the mud, and he was left clinging to it while the punt drifted away. It was an undignified position for him. A rude boy on the bank immediately yelled out to a lagging chum to “hurry up and see a real monkey on a stick.”
I could not go to his assistance, because, as ill-luck would have it, we had not taken the proper precaution to bring out a spare pole with us. I could only sit and look at him. His expression as the pole slowly sank with him I shall never forget; there was so much thought in it.
I watched him gently let down into the water, and saw him scramble out, sad and wet. I could not help laughing, he looked such a ridiculous figure. I continued to chuckle to myself about it for some time, and then it was suddenly forced in upon me that really I had got very little to laugh at when I came to think of it. Here was I, alone in a punt, without a pole, drifting helplessly down mid-stream—possibly towards a weir. (1889)
WATERWAYS WORLD Battle Of The Bridge by David Bolton
It was a giant step forward for the fledging Inland Waterways Association (IWA) when, in May 1947, it threw down a challenge to the powerful Great Western Railway (GWR) to provide a safe and clear passage for a boat along the then semi-derelict north Stratford Canal.
The main problem was that the waterway had been effectively closed to navigation when Tunnel Bridge at Lifford Lane, near King’s Norton, collapsed under the weight of traffic and was replaced by a ‘temporary’ fixed steel structure at a height preventing the passage of a narrowboat. As a result, commercial traffic, including regular trade with Bournville, had ceased.
IWA’s honorary secretary of the time, author Tom Rolt, had chosen to deliberately seek a passage along this canal in his full-length narrowboat, Cressy. This was his and his wife Angela’s first extensive post-war cruise from Tooley’s Yard at Banbury, where the boat had spent the winter being refurbished ...
On approaching Lifford Lane, the excited noise of a crowd could be heard coming from the bridge. Spectators were lining the banks of the canal and a group of press reporters and photographers were also gathered. Robert Aickman, always alert to the opportunity of creating a news story about the state of the canals, had put out an announcement before leaving London, and it had achieved the desired effect...
IWA’s first challenge had achieved great success in alerting the public to the threatened state of Britain’s canals, though this was only the beginning of the story. The association was determined to keep up the pressure by encouraging (the few) other members who owned boats to follow up and use the north Stratford Canal. (May 2017)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We soon found to our cost that the tropical summer weather was responsible for the presence of numerous wasps, whose attentions were rather too pressing to be altogether pleasant. While engaged in trying to allay the burning pains of a bad sting upon Jacky's arm, we were advised by a rustic on the canal bank (whose sympathetic grins upset my chum almost as much as the wasps) to try some clay from the canal-side as a remedy. We were sceptical at first, but were subsequently astonished at the soothing effects of this novel panacea for wasp-stings. Here is a wrinkle for any of my readers who should happen to get stung by the ferocious little pests. (1899)
WATERWAYS WORLD Robert Aickman Prophet and Politician by David Bolton
From the outset of the Inland Waterways Association’s efforts to save the waterways in 1946, through to his retirement 18 years later, Robert Aickman had seen himself as a leader who must have unshakeable faith in the rightness and purpose of the campaign and that the promoter of such a cause needed to be “more a prophet than a politician”.
Aickman laid down certain ground rules,
• the first being
“to fight on ground chosen by oneself and never on ground chosen
by the opposition … It is far more important to assert on all
occasions the positive aims for which one is working, however vast
and unusual they may be, than to demolish, however convincingly, the
contentions of one’s opponents.”
• His second rule was not to fraternise with the opposition or to enter into compromises – any contact with the authorities, however well intentioned, would lead to a weakening of the IWA’s resolution.
• Thirdly, he argued that it was utterly impossible to obtain agreement on which were the most and least important waterways. The fundamental aim was “the retention and, where necessary, revitalisation of the entire surviving system”. An over-populated country could not afford to lose a single navigable mile and it would be impossible to run a national campaign if certain waterways were identified as more important than others – such a policy would seriously weaken the support of members throughout the country. (May 2014)
WATERWAYS WORLD Staying Afloat by Peter J Scott
"Give it a good thump; here's the mooring hammer." To that stake Copperkins remained tethered for ten hours in eight feet of flood-waters, while two million tonnes of water rushed through our railway bridge at six miles per hour.
We started the day on a canal section of the Sheffield and South Yorkshire Navigation above Ickles Lock. The rain continued heavily all night, and a morning weir-visit a mile ahead showed safe progress to be impossible; running along the towpath couldn't keep up with twigs floating in the river's current. Four of us settled to a day of crosswords and sudoku, while we listened to the rain.
By 4pm the view of the bank opposite changed its angle as water came over Jordans Lock and Holmes Lock into our pound, flooded the towpath and started our 8ft vertical rise, reaching maximum height by midnight and falling again during the night, to deposit us back where we began by 7am.
Nobody would willingly choose to be aboard for this journey, but evacuation would have required more secure attachment than a mooring spike, an accurate prediction of how slack the lines needed to be, and acceptance that Copperkins would find its own resting place as the waters fell, and probably sink.
We just have to back our judgement in these situations. I had a workable plan and was thinking clearly about it as we rose. Using a rope I carry for emergencies, I tied to the underside of the railway bridge when its ten-feet-above underside beams were reachable with the hooked boatpole. I trusted the rope to take the snatch when the mooring pin come out.
It wasn't all calmness all evening: I berated the use of the corridor for the frivolous activity of making tea when a furious dash to the tiller might be needed: it was the stress doing the talking, and I was better off with the tea. ... (Sept 2007)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We sculled up to Walton, a rather large place for a riverside town. As with all riverside places, only the tiniest corner of it comes down to the water, so that from the boat you might fancy it was a village of some half-dozen houses, all told.
Windsor and Abingdon are the only towns between London and Oxford that you can really see anything of from the stream. All the others hide round corners, and merely peep at the river down one street: my thanks to them for being so considerate, and leaving the river-banks to woods and fields and water-works.
Even Reading, though it does its best to spoil and sully and make hideous as much of the river as it can reach, is good-natured enough to keep its ugly face a good deal out of sight. (1889)
Tom Rolt and the Cressy Years by Ian Mackersey
"Having left an engineering job at GEC with a collapsed lung in 1946, a year later, convalescing on a bunk on Rothesay, (a 45 foot ex-Dutch Navy pinnace moored at Diglis Basin, Worcester) I was reading a copy of Narrow Boat by LTC Rolt, which had completely gripped me. It described, for me, the be-all and end-all of the perfect way of life."
"Incredible as the co-incidence may seem I was in the middle of a chapter when I heard Florence calling 'Good heavens, Cressy's just come into the dock.' I was so excited I got out of my bunk, grabbed my dressing gown and walked along the quayside where Tom and Angela were tying Cressy up. We introduced ourselves, I told Tom how this book had thrilled me, and they invited us on board for tea. One of the first things that happened was that Tom produced an application form and insisted that I join the IWA. And so I became, I remember, member number 87."
The outcome of the friendship that grew between Holt Abbott and Tom Rolt was the concept both of canal hire-boat companies and of purpose-built narrow beam leisure boats of which only a handful then existed. Before the war there had only been one hire company, the Inland Cruising Association based at Christleton, near Chester. In 1947 it was still the only one.
"Tom said there was going to be a big market for canal cruising and it would need specially designed boats. He set out the broad specifications for a craft that could go anywhere, through any lock, under any bridge, up any shallow canal on the narrow system. The beam couldn't exceed 6ft10in, the air draught from waterline to cabin top no more than 5ft10in and the draught 18 inches. There had to be adequate tumble-home recessing of the cabin - for side clearance at bridges. I remember getting a piece of squared paper and drawing a cross section"
The result of that drawing was a 24ft long wooden prototype, Avondale, built in a disused scout hut at Saul Junction, and the first of a fleet of the hire company which Holt started at Stourport in 1951. (1985)
Rudder Grange by Frank R. Stockton
It was now getting on toward summer, at least there was only a part of a month of spring left, and whenever I could get off from my business Euphemia and I made little excursions into the country. One afternoon we rowed up the river, and there we saw a sight that transfixed us, as it were. On the bank, a mile or so above the city, stood a canal-boat. I say stood, because it was so firmly imbedded in the ground by the river-side, that it would have been almost as impossible to move it as to have turned the Sphinx around.
This boat we soon found was inhabited by an oyster-man and his family. They had lived there for many years and were really doing quite well. The boat was divided, inside, into rooms, and these were papered and painted and nicely furnished. There was a kitchen, a living-room, a parlor and bedrooms. There were all sorts of conveniences — carpets on the floors, pictures, and everything, at least so it seemed to us, to make a home comfortable. This was not all done at once, the oyster-man told me. They had lived there for years and had gradually added this and that until the place was as we saw it. He had an oyster-bed out in the river and he made cider in the winter, but where he got the apples I don't know. There was really no reason why he should not get rich in time.
Well, we went all over that house and we praised everything so much that the oyster-man's wife was delighted, and when we had some stewed oysters afterward, eating them at a little table under a tree nearby, — I believe that she picked out the very largest oysters she had, to stew for us. When we had finished our supper and had paid for it, and were going down to take our little boat again, Euphemia stopped and looked around her. Then she clasped her hands and exclaimed in an ecstatic undertone:
“We must have a canal-boat!”
And she never swerved from that determination. (1880)
The Times by a correspondent
Friday: The first division of the troops that are to proceed by the Paddington Canal for Liverpool, and thence by transports for Dublin, will leave Paddington to-day, and will be followed by others to-morrow and Sunday. By this mode of conveyance the men will be only seven days in reaching Liverpool, and with comparatively little fatigue, as it would take them above fourteen days to march that distance.
Relays of fresh horses for the canal boats have been ordered to be in readiness at all the stages.
Saturday: the 8th Regiment embarked at the Paddington Canal for Liverpool, in a number of barges, each containing 60 men. This regiment consists of 950 men. The 7th Regiment embarked at the same time in eighteen barges: they are all to proceed to Liverpool.
The Dukes of York and Sussex witnessed the embarkation. The remainder of the brigade was to follow yesterday, and Friday next another and very considerable embarkation will follow. (December 1806)
Barging Round Britain by John Sergeant
We are not living anything like the life of nineteenth-century boatmen. If you go on a canal holiday you are simply playing a game compared with those rough and tough canal folk, who were often scorned by those in regular jobs and treated like gipsies.
The men and women employed on the narrow boats had to work all hours to see their cargoes arrive on time. If they had children old enough to help that might make things easier, but often it was a couple walking with the horse and taking turns on the tiller.
I spoke to an elderly woman brought up on one of the few remaining working boats. And she described with bitterness her cruel childhood. She told how they had to work hard to earn enough to live; and they had to keep on the move. It could be bitterly cold in the winter and uncomfortably warm in the summer. However, despite all her hardships, she was still attached to the canals. This strange, shifting life outdoors was where she felt at home. (2015)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Steam Launches used to have to whistle for us to get out of their way. If I may do so, without appearing boastful, I think I can honestly say that our one small boat, during that week, caused more annoyance and delay and aggravation to the steam launches that we came across than all the other craft on the river put together.
“Steam launch, coming!” one of us would cry out, on sighting the enemy in the distance; and, in an instant, everything was got ready to receive her. I would take the lines, and Harris and George would sit down beside me, all of us with our backs to the launch, and the boat would drift out quietly into mid-stream.
On would come the launch, whistling, and on we would go, drifting. At about a hundred yards off, she would start whistling like mad, and the people would come and lean over the side, and roar at us; but we never heard them! Harris would be telling us an anecdote about his mother, and George and I would not have missed a word of it for worlds.
Then that launch would give one final shriek of a whistle that would nearly burst the boiler, and she would reverse her engines, and blow off steam, and swing round and get aground; everyone on board of it would rush to the bow and yell at us, and the people on the bank would stand and shout to us, and all the other passing boats would stop and join in, till the whole river for miles up and down was in a state of frantic commotion. And then Harris would break off in the most interesting part of his narrative, and look up with mild surprise, and say to George:
“Why, George, bless me, if here isn’t a steam launch!” (1889)
Festival Of Britain, talk introduction by "Aquarius" (aka Robert Aickman)
To introduce Peter Scott to a new field of activity is to know that sooner - rather than later - he will be a master of it. More and more people, instead of broadening with the years, diminish and narrow under the pressures of specialisation and social restriction. To those who succeed in remaining totus atque teres, whole men and round, we owe a particular debt: they uphold the true dignity of our species
Peter Scott has his specialities: there are many of them.
The author of many books is also the painter whose works hang in so many British homes. He has sailed single-handed in the Olympic Games, and in his glider, he has conquered a new heaven.
He served in the Battle of the Atlantic and in the Light Coastal Forces, and explored unmapped territories in the Canadian Arctic; he has stood for Parliament, and has effortlessly compassed new skills in his single venture as an actor: a notable voice on the radio, he has achieved new prominence on television.
His special creation is The Wildfowl Trust at Slimbridge; which is every winter our island's concours d'elegance for wild geese.
He was born not so much with a silver spoon in his mouth as with a silver key.
Those with talent are seldom left with time.
Peter Scott, is able to do only a limited amount publicly for the Inland Waterways Association; he has privateered in the struggle to preserve our beautiful inland waterways and has travelled long distances on them. He has often played a crucial part in seeing that events have gone the right way. A Vice-President to be relied upon, for the excellent reason that he understands and cares for what the campaign seeks to achieve. (1951)
Maidens' Trip - A Wartime Adventure on the Grand Union Canal (foreward) by Emma Smith
In 1943, when I was signed on by the Grand Union Canal Carrying Company under their wartime scheme of employing women to replace the boaters who had joined up, the Canal was still a commercial waterway.
At that time steel was the cargo most usually carried north from London to Birmingham, although there were a good many variants, one of the nastiest being cement. Nobody liked to be given cement for their loading orders. Not only did it disagreeably clog the eyes, lungs and hair during loading and unloading, but it also had to be kept dry in transit, and to keep it dry the bilge pumps had to function, and for the bilge pumps to function the bilges had to be free of coal, which they seldom were since it was with a cargo of loose coal that the boats were filled to their gunwales on each return journey. This southbound cargo, picked up in the region around Coventry, was shovelled out directly on to the wharves of factories purpose-built alongside the canal somewhere back in the vicinity of London.
Time was unceasingly crucial on the cut. Each and every day was, for the boaters, a race against time. When the loading-orders were issued at the depot office in Hayes, Middlesex, the boaters raced each other to cast off and get away first, so as to be the first to arrive in the docks, and therefore the first to be loaded, and the first to head north.
Blackout regulations forbade the use of headlights for anything except the navigation of tunnels in daytime, but the boaters must have had eyes that could see in the dark; how, otherwise, did they manage to let go so early on winter mornings - and to keep going so late at night? Sunday was not a day of rest. The quicker they got to Brum, the quicker they would be unloaded and able to take on another load and be back at the depot to collect their pay and their new loading-orders, and be off again. They were paid by the trip.
The family was a working unit, kids included, and whatever they were paid, they all earned it; but I don't think it made them very rich. (August 1986)
Troubled Waters by Margaret Cornish
'Always leave a boatman to work his own boats'. 'Never touch a rope unless you're asked'. These are maxims which continue to stick firmly in my small store of the unwritten codes of conduct. The reason for these two 'rules' soon becomes obvious to the more habitual frequenter of boats: the boatman has his own particular way of working, knows precisely what he's about and will ask - or shout - for help if and when required. A helper, however well-intentioned, will mostly confuse and bungle an otherwise co-ordinated and controlled manœuvre.
There have been so many times when well-intentioned young men have given me the benefit of their advice and their muscles. More often than not it is easier to pander to their arrogance and to abrogate my own, but their presumption always irritates me. (1987)
Idle Women by Susan Woolfitt
For so many millions of people all over the world the war brought horror, torture and loss, that it seems almost wrong to have found anything good in what it brought to me; but it would be less than honest not to admit that it did bring me good. So there is an immeasurable amount of enjoyment that I can look back upon, knowing that I have paid the score on the debit side too.
All these things I have enjoyed and loved: the work of the boats, the pleasure of slowly learning to manage them, the shape and the colour and the noise of them; the homeliness of the cabins and the friendship of my fellow-workers; enormous appetites and the hundred per cent feeling of physical fitness, the tiredness and the heavenly rest at the end of the day; the colour of the cut through the seasons, the never-ending anticipation of what lay "just round the corner," the open fields and the wooded cuttings between high banks, the cottages, houses, factories, wharves and docks, amongst all of which my days were lived so fully.
The pubs and the people in them, the butchers, bakers and all the other shopkeepers who were good to us and became forever part of the pattern; the early mornings and the late evenings and the quiet black nights; the noise of the lock gates banging shut, the feel of the sun soaking into me as I lay full stretch on the balance beam, listening to the water boiling and racing below me; even the wetness of the rain on my face and the scrunch of the snow under my boots; the complete stillness that suddenly fell when the panting engine was stopped at the end of the day.
But very much more than all these things I am grateful for the chance to have known the people of the cut, for the way they accepted us into their way of life and for the help they were so ready to extend to us. Indeed, I am grateful to all the people who might so easily have sneered at "the lady bargees playing at boats," but instead met us on an equal footing, with a "Watcha, mate" and an offer of help. If there is any way in which I can help them, I shall do what I can with a very genuine feeling of "You're welcome." (1947)
The Amateur Boatwomen - Canal Boating 1941~1945 by Eily Gayford
All the boaters had a strict code of behaviour and manners, which we always respected and adopted; no one ever stepped on to or crossed another person's boat without first asking to do so, and when tied up side by side with the butty nearest the towpath, if anyone from the motor wanted to go ashore they were obliged to step across the butty hatches, and this they did while staring fixedly ahead, as even a fleeting glance down into the cabin would have been the height of rudeness.
They never liked to tie up where the towpath was a popular place for people to walk, because often they were so rude as to lean over and stare right into the cabins, which was very unpleasant for the people inside. Sometimes, if we tied up with friends and were all outside having cocoa, they wouldn't hand back the mugs before first leaning down and rinsing them in the cut, and when we were with the Sibleys if Albert wanted to say something to us he was most particular always to give a good bang on the cabin side, then wait for an answer before coming over. These niceties were always observed and they were among the first things the trainees had to learn. (1973)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We were overtaken by a monkey-barge, the skipper of which kindly gave us a tow for some miles, until we arrived at Stone, where we went ashore for tea and a look round the town.
On several occasions we took advantage of the good-nature of the bargees and their wives, and obtained a tow behind their barges when we wanted a rest. On the whole, we found them a most interesting and sociable lot of people, and on more than one occasion we were invited on board, as honoured guests, to partake of tea with the skipper and his family.
Life on board one of these slow-moving canal barges appeared to me to possess many charms. The barge people seem to pass a sort of amphibious existence, belonging neither to the land nor to the water, but having a human interest in each. The women and children almost wholly live aboard their floating homes, often never stepping ashore from one day to the other and going about their domestic duties, as well as those connected with their calling, with all the precision and cheerfulness in the world, as if there were nothing strange or out-of-the-way in their surroundings. (1899)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We had pulled up to have tea in a backwater near Windsor. Our jar was empty, and it was a case of going without our tea or taking water from the river. Harris was for chancing it. He said it must be all right if we boiled the water. He said that he various germs of poison present in the water would be killed by the boiling. So we filled our kettle with Thames backwater, and boiled it; and very careful we were to see that it did boil.
We had made the tea, and were just settling down comfortably to drink it, when George, with his cup half-way to his lips, paused and exclaimed: “What’s that?”
Harris and I followed his gaze, and saw, coming down towards us on the sluggish current, a dog. It was one of the quietest and peacefullest dogs I have ever seen. I never met a dog who seemed more contented—more easy in its mind. It was floating dreamily on its back, with its four legs stuck up straight into the air. It was what I should call a full-bodied dog, with a well-developed chest. On he came, serene, dignified, and calm, until he was abreast of our boat, and there, among the rushes, he eased up, and settled down cosily for the evening.
George said he didn’t want any tea, and emptied his cup into the water. Harris did not feel thirsty, either, and followed suit. I had drunk half mine, but I wished I had not. (1889)
A Seaman's Pocket-Book by Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty
MAKING FAST TO A LARGE RING
A ROUND TURN AND TWO HALF-HITCHES:
... secures a rope to a large ring, such as the ring of a buoy, or to a spar overhead.
A full turn is taken round the ring or spar to the right of the bight. The end is then passed up over the bight from right to left and half hitched round the bight twice. (June 1943)
The Complete Book of Canal & River Navigations by Edward W Paget-Tomlnson
ICE - BREAKERS and ICE BREAKING. It is not just that a canal freezes over, jams paddle gear and lock gates as well as between boats and the chamber sides. Aqueducts have to be emptied for fear of bursting.
In the locks the ice was broken with a pounder, a stave with a wooden head shod with iron, or with an iron bound flail called a 'hockey stick'. On narrow canals, the ice breaking boat, was a slender 30' to 35' craft. Both were a similar shape and the cross section rounded, so that the boat would roll easily. If of wood, the hull was sheathed with overlapping iron plates. Pulled by as many horses as available, up to 24, the well raked stem rode up on the ice and cracked it. To create a wide channel, the ice-breaker was rocked by men standing each side of a platform and gripping a central rail, each side heaving in turn to rock the boat which was easily done due to the rounded cross section.
There have been canal freeze-ups with ice a foot thick. Severe winters have been 1895, 1920, 1939-40, 1946-7, 1954, and 1962-3. The last stopped all traffic on the Grand Union for sixteen weeks. In these conditions even ice-breakers have been unable to move, for they could not break ice more than about 4" thick and because of packing of floes; ice could attain several feet in thickness. (1978)
Inland Waterway by John Betjeman
He who by peaceful inland water steers
Bestirs himself when
a new lock appears.
Slow swing the gates: slow sinks the water
down;
This lower Stratford seems another town.
The
meadows which the youthful Shakespeare knew
Are left behind,
and, sliding into view,
Come reaches of the Avon, mile on mile,
Church, farm and mill and lover-leaned-on stile,
Till where
the tower of Tewkesbury soars to heaven
Our homely Avon joins
the haughty Severn.
Sweet is the fluting of the
blackbird's note,
Sweet is the ripple from the narrow
boat.
Your Majesty, our friend of many years,
Confirms a triumph
now the moment nears:
The lock you have re-opened will set free
The heart of England to the open sea.
[Declaimed at the opening of the Upper Avon at Stratford in the presence of the Queen Mother and Robert Aickman, founder of the Inland Waterways Association, on 1st June 1974 and published in Collected Poems] (1974)
The Inland Waterways Association - Saving Britain's Canal and River Navigations by David Blagrove
Early campaigning: the Stratford Canal in 1946 was owned by the Great Western Railway Co., who had little interest in encouraging navigation.
However, the Railway and Canal Act of 1888 laid a duty on navigation owners to facilitate passages. At Lifford Lane, near the junction with the Worcester & Birmingham Canal, a swing bridge had been replaced by a fixed structure that prevented navigation.
In May 1947 the youthful IWA mounted its first major campaign and sought a passage through the obstruction, the GWR being compelled by law to remove it. Tom Rolt's Cressy, with Rolt himself in charge, squeezed under the lifted bridge.
Several more canal-borne assaults were made that summer and eventually the bridge was rebuilt as a moveable one. (2006)
The Ranger Guide Handbook by Anne Carter
THE POWER BOAT PERMIT For members of the Association over the age
of 18 years.
Grade A. Non-Tidal Waters.
1 Hold the
Rowing Permit.
2 Demonstrate the handling of a motor boat,
including getting under way, manoeuvring to pick up a man overboard,
coming alongside, and making fast. Pick up a mooring and anchor the
boat.
3 Know the right way to load a boat with stores and
personnel and how to trim her correctly.
4 Rig a towing line
and know the precautions to be taken when towing and being towed.
5 Be able to check petrol and oil levels.
Grade B. Tidal Waters - in addition
6 Be able to top
up battery and clean plugs. Be able to do small running repairs to
engine, e.g. clean carburettor, petrol filter and water cooling
system.
7 Carry and be able to use a compass; read a chart.
NOTES:
(i) The Permit for the non-tidal grade should be made
available for all non-tidal waters and the Permit for tidal grade for
all waters within 1 mile of the shore.
(ii) No qualifications
are required, for the use of hired boats on ornamental lakes or
pools, or at fun-fairs.
(iii) This permit does not qualify the
holder to handle a power boat for water ski-ing. (1968)
Camping by Water (foreward) by Peter Scott
The indefatigable unpaid workers of the Inland Waterways Association are putting the whole nation in their debt by their unceasing efforts to promote the restoration of all British navigations to the good order which the law has all the time required, and the subsequent full use of those navigations for both trade and pleasure boating. The Waterways are an asset which must no longer be wasted, but they stand, at the moment, in grave danger. In the main they have been nationalised, they belong to us all and what is done with them is our decision. We must decide wisely and at once. (1950)
Heart of England by Waterway - A Canoeing Chronicle by River and Canal by William Bliss
The rounded grassy slopes leaned down and closed me in on my right, but on my left the meadows fell away and all was open country, with the young Cherwell showing here and there among its willows three fields away in the valley bottom. I let my canoe come to rest against the sheltering bank; a heavenly scent of Spring came to me on the sun warmed wind, and I looked up at the bank to see, just above my right shoulder, a colony of white violets.
I had found Spring and would celebrate the discovery. I had seen and experienced something which I have seen and experienced only from a canal; no river could have given it to me (1933)
Through London by Canal by Benjamin Ellis Martin
At Limehouse Basin vast stone quays and jetties surround a water area of about ten acres, and on the quays and in the water is a busy scene. Men and machinery are at work loading and unloading vessels of every build and every rig, lying alongside the jetties or in the basin, beleaguered by barges. There are sloops and schooners and brigs, paddle-wheel steamers and screw colliers, bluff-bowed Dutch boats, sharp and shapely coasters, some low in the water with their heavy cargoes, some high out, already unladen.
Moored together in neighbourly way is the Ulrika Wardo, with pine from Norway, and the Carolina, with ice from Boston; and queer foreign names are painted on the sterns of vessels from every foreign port. The huge rudders of the barges take up as much space as their vessels.
On one side men are piling timber; on another they are screening coals; on another they are breaking into small bits and redressing gray granite from Aberdeen and blue granite from Guernsey, which comes rough-dressed for building and for paving. Here are mounds of small stones and sand dredged from the bottom of the Thames, to be sifted and used for concrete; here are heaps of lime and cement; here under sheds is the maddest medley of old iron ever seen — iron pots and pans, hoops and horseshoes, bars and bolts, rails and railings, tubing, rings, nuts, screws, nails, hooks, all the queer scraps ever dreamed of, all that can be bought all over London by perambulating "old rag and bottle men."
It is brought here in great vans, piled with that brought up from the Medway by barge, weighed and shipped to Hartlepool, Sunderland, Newcastle, and there born again into useful iron things (1885)
Vagabonding through the Midlands by Wilfred Byford-Jones
The canals are the only places where there is real child labour in England today and little seems to be known about it by the authorities. Still another generation of illiterate boat people is therefore being created to our discredit, and no-one seems able to do anything about it. (1935)
Hansard: House of Commons speeches by David James, MP for Brighton Kemptown
All of us have two completely different mental pictures in mind when discussing canals. On the one hand, we think of Suez, Panama and the new canal through the Canadian Great Lakes as arteries of transport, bustling and busy. If any man were to suggest that they should be allowed to silt up, wither away and die, he would be rightly considered a dangerous form of lunatic.
On the other hand, we have a picture of little winding streams, about ten feet wide, covered with duckweed and littered with rotting barges, and because we happen to have invested our treasure, wealth and effort in digging canals a hundred years before anyone else, it is regarded as natural that they should be allowed to silt up. (4 December 1959)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We went up the backwater to Wargrave. It is a short cut, leading out of the right-hand bank about half a mile above Marsh Lock, and is well worth taking, being a pretty, shady little piece of stream, besides saving nearly half a mile of distance.
Of course, its entrance is studded with posts and chains, and surrounded with notice boards, menacing all kinds of torture, imprisonment, and death to everyone who dares set scull upon its waters—I wonder some of these riparian boors don’t claim the air of the river and threaten everyone with forty shillings fine who breathes it—but the posts and chains a little skill will easily avoid; and as for the boards, you might, if you have five minutes to spare, and there is nobody about, take one or two of them down and throw them into the river. (1889)
SUBTERRANEA - A trip through Standedge Canal Tunnel by John and Rosemary Collett
We booked a passage through the Standedge tunnel with the office at Stoke-on-Trent. We duly arrived at Diggle for our booked passage and, after boats from the east had emerged and their chaperones landed with their gear, our boat Magdalen was measured: height above water, maximum width and across the cabin top. Having satisfied those in charge that our boat would go through the tunnel we were issued with hard hats, life jackets, a fire extinguisher, and lamp.
Waterways are only allowing three passages each way through Standedge tunnel, three days each week. We were away into the tunnel with our rather chatty chaperone who steered for a bit: not too easy, I found, since this is by tiller from the boat's stern, so you have to stand up well to see over the cabin and look out for the low parts of the tunnel roof. It was not long before I appreciated the hard hat, and added to scratches on it and on the boat when we reached the unlined bare rock parts of the tunnel.
In fact, not much of the tunnel is lined with brickwork. There are some brick relieving arches, and parts concreted or rock-bolted. In several places there are quite severe kinks in the tunnel alignment where it is driven through bare rock, so we went slowly, and were the best part of two hours in the dark, other than the light of our own headlamp.
As this, the first of the four Standedge tunnels, was used to take away spoil excavated from the first railway tunnel, there are cross-tunnels between the two. At some cross-tunnels we stopped while our chaperone reported to control by a fixed telephone on the wall. At one of these cross-tunnels we were allowed to get off and examine the brick-lined (now disused) railway tunnel, several feet higher than the canal: it seemed vast compared with the one we were navigating, although it was constructed only for a single railway (April 2018)
The Canal Age by Charles Hadfield
Puddle is a mass of earth reduced to a semifluid state by working and chopping it about with a spade, while water just in the proper quantity is applied, until the mass is rendered homogeneous, and so much condensed, that water cannot afterwards pass through it, or but very slowly. The best puddling stuff is rather a lightish loam, with a mixture of coarse sand and gravel in it: very strong clay is unfit for it, on account of the great quantity of water which it will hold, and its disposition to shrink and crack as this escapes. (1968)
IWA BULLETIN 57 by Robert Aickman
FOUNDER'S QUIZ ...
5. Why could a boat not be taken up from Marsworth to Aylesbury
even before the War?
Because from Marsworth to Aylesbury the Canal (Aylesbury Branch of the Grand Union) goes down. (October 1958)
IWA BULLETIN 57 by Robert Aickman
With regret, we announce the death of Mr. GW Noakes at his home in Southend-on-Sea, on 16th May, 1958. In the early days of the Association, he wrote that if ever I found myself in Southend, he would like to show me some "pictures of canals" which he thought I might find of interest. He subsequently sent me two reminders, and in the end I made a special journey, not, I must acknowledge, with any great expectations.
In the event, I passed one of the most remarkable evenings of my life. Mr. Noakes and his father had been important pioneers of cinematography, and did even more remarkable work in the development of the magic lantern as a scientific and artistic medium.
Mr Noakes operated an astonishing machine known as the Noakesoscope, originally demonstrated by his father at the Paris Exposition; a projector with four lenses in vertical series. For use in this instrument, Mr Noakes possessed many hundred glass plates, two and a half inches square, mounted in mahogany frames, and hand-painted, with fantastic delicacy and rich beauty.
One series of about two hundred depicted scenes on English rivers and canals at about the turn of the century. The four lenses allowed the four images to dissolve into one another, and to produce elaborate illusions of motion: a sequence showing a sunny day on the canal at Leighton Buzzard dissolving into dusk, and the emerging Japanese lanterns of a 1900 carnival, was unforgettable.
All in all, these exquisite mementoes of a long summer voyage in a little boat were the most ravishing representations of our beautiful waterways that I have ever seen.
After that first visit, I returned several times, once with a party, including our Member, Mr John Betjeman, who wrote about the experience in The Spectator, and gave Mr Noakes an Indian Summer of fame. (October 1958)
The Allison Plan for Electrified Waterways by Andrew Allison
1. Transmission and Distribution:-Owing to the ubiquity of the
GRID, it would be possible to transmit at 11,000 volts, 3 ph, 50
cycles, and then to distribute from standard transformers (about 50
to 75 KVA/mile) through pillars to light tubular supports in concrete
stocks, and thence to double catenary supported o/head wires
energised at 380 volts, 3 ph, 50 cycles, with the central wire and
all the catenary supporting wires earthed. ...
2. The
Collectors are sprung and can swivel in parallel motion when the
barge wanders so that the contact roller axes remain reasonably
normal to the overhead wires. They can be quickly raised or lowered
by a hand wheel. ...
3. The Controlling and Steering Mechanism
might be of conventional type, all live parts being inside an earthed
ironclad enclosure, which carries driving seat, propellor, and
rudder, comprising all these parts in one single removable unit which
carries a screened plug and socket for local supply on the barge at
110 volts. ...
6. Submersible Pump can be installed in a retractable pipe in say
a 30 inch diameter hole right beside the lock working in conjunction
with electric level controls.
7. The Bargee has lighting,
heating, cooking, pumping, etc. at his finger tips, subject to the
usual safety rules.
8. NO SMOKE: In the nuclear days to come we
should be ashamed of every puff of smoke from oil fuel that fouls the
country side. ... (October 1958)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We agreed that we would pull this morning, as a change from towing; and Harris thought the best arrangement would be that George and I should scull, and he steer. I did not chime in with this idea at all; I said I thought Harris would have been showing a more proper spirit if he had suggested that he and George should work, and let me rest a bit. It seemed to me that I was doing more than my fair share of the work on this trip, and I was beginning to feel strongly on the subject.
It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should
do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you;
I like
work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.
I love to keep it by me: the idea of getting rid of it nearly
breaks my heart. (1889)
Bread Upon The Waters by David Blagrove
(1961) ... Maidenhead Bridge saw us forging downstream with smoke rolling from the chimney and a feather of white water spurting up the stem. We lit the navigation lights below Bray, exchanged chat with Edgar Light the keeper at Boveney Lock in the dark, and went to pull up below Windsor Bridge. The river was still running fast and pulling-up whilst heading downstream is always difficult. Here it was complicated by the fact that a long masonry spit called "the Cobbler" projected up river from the head of Romney Lock Cut, just below the Bridge dividing the channel. We intended to tie up near the steamer moorings on the Windsor side, so held over away from "the Cobbler", slipped towards the steamer moorings and went hard astern.
Panic ensued when nothing happened. The engine raced but no swirl of water came from below the counter. The stern swung towards "the Cobbler" and for a moment we thought we should be grounded on it by the current. However, we managed to get a line off the fore end and pulled clear. Once tied up, we lifted the inspection plate on the gear box to find that the reverse brake band had apparently slipped. After some clever juggling with spanners we tightened it up and tested it. All seemed well enough for us to be able to repair to the nearby "Donkey House" after supper.
Next morning there was thick fog on the river. "The Cobbler" was dimly visible but beyond that, nothing. By 9.30am we felt it was no use waiting for the fog to lift if we were to get to Brentford that night, so we crept gingerly down to Romney Lock. At the lock a large sign stated that dredging was taking place in the cut below, so we very cautiously edged round the bend from the lock. I stood on the fore-end peering into the whiteness and let drive a monstrous blast on the bugle. As I did so, the black shape of a steam dredger loomed up, secured to both banks by stout wire hawsers and apparently deserted. I drew off another blast and men suddenly appeared on deck, some with bits of sandwich in their mouths. They evidently thought that a super tanker was about to interrupt their tea break. Winches clattered and we slipped over the hawsers with inches to spare. They seemed to see the funny side of the incident, particularly the bugle.
Once the dredger had disappeared into the fog astern her crew became ghostly voices speaking from a void. (1984)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
Some distance out of the town we obtained a pleasant tow of a few miles behind a barge going in our direction, and from an old lady in a picturesque sun-bonnet; who came out of the cabin to chat with us, we got the welcome information that we should pass through a wonderful nut-grove on the banks of the canal, where she prophesied that we should have a real royal time. And she was about right!
Such a profusion of filberts I never have seen before. The trees literally were interlaced across the canal, and being in a perfectly out-of-the-way spot, where scarcely anyone but the canal-boat people passed, the branches were simply weighed down with the toothsome nuts. We were told by our informant that the filberts were anybody's property; so when we came to where the trees were heaviest laden we paddled beneath the bough and soon had picked enough to fill the bows of the canoe. You may be sure we never wanted for filberts upon the rest of the day's journey. I pictured with what delight the average schoolboy would have hailed that nut-grove, especially as the gathering of the nuts from the bank would have entailed torn clothes, many tumbles, and unlimited scratches.
After passing through lovely country, we arrived at Preston Brook, where we joined the Duke of Bridgewater Canal (now the property of the Manchester Ship Canal Company). (1899)
Sydney Mail by a correspondent
WBIngham enlarged his ship Louisa, fitted three small cannons and renamed her Voura. She was now about 40feet by 16feet and, lightly loaded, could make about 7knots. She left Cooktown for New Guinea on 1st September 1878 with a cargo including several live goats. James Shaw, an Englishman serving as WBIngham’s secretary, likened Voura’s appearance to “a wheelbarrow crossed by Noah’s Ark”. On 19th November Voura arrived at Dinner Island (now called Samarai) at the south east tip of New Guinea.
On 23rd November the crew was WBIngham, Shaw, an English engineer, a Greek cook, two Chinese deckhands, three South Sea Islanders and a Wari Islander as pilot. Voura reached Brooker Island on 24th November and the islanders co-operated and entertained their visitors to a feast. On 26th November as the crew were working on the beach, they were attacked, killed, roasted in stone ovens and eaten. Only Joe, the pilot, escaped to tell the tale.
From another boat ten days later, from a safe distance, it was observed that Voura was already partly dismantled. In June 1879 HMS Wolverine recovered what rmained of WBIngham’s possessions – a sextant box engraved W Ingham RN, a cookery book, an electro-plated spoon, some Masonic regalia, Chandos (a novel by Ouida), a biography of Oliver Cromwell, Boswell’s Life of Samuel Johnson and the memoirs of Benvenuto Cellini. In 1879, on petition of the residents, the Herbert River township was named Ingham. (10 May 1879)
Bread Upon The Waters by David Blagrove
The technique of ascending a flight of single locks with two motors. As the first boat noses the double bottom-gates open, having first ensured that the lock is empty: it is left in slow forward gear. The steerer jumps onto the lock tail, drops the bottom gate paddles on his side and charges up to the top ground paddle. When the boat's fore-end is about ten feet from the top gate sill, he whips this up and rushes back to the bottom gate. Then the surge of water down the chamber temporarily stops the boat and, while this is happening, he pulls one gate shut, being helped by the flush from the propellor. As soon as it is shut he jumps the gap to the opposite gate and pulls that. By this time the water from the top paddle has begun to lift the boat and is just beginning to run out of the gap, so the remaining gate is helped shut by the water. If this is done properly, no damage occurs to the lock because there is a minimum of water as yet moving out and the bottom gates mate together and come up snugly on the bottom sill. What one must look for are signs of fouling caused by bricks or rubbish preventing a proper mating.
Next, one draws the remaining top paddle, then lights a cigarette while observing the scenery nonchalantly and checking that nothing on the boat is fouling the lock. When the fore-end rests snugly against the top gate, ahead gear is disengaged. Some desperadoes used to go as far back down the lock as possible then go full ahead and charge, forcing the gate open against a head of water. This is not appreciated by maintenance foremen and others in like situations, but a few seconds are gained. However, it is just as well to wait until the levels are equalised, when it does no harm to let the fore-end gently nose the gate open in ahead gear.
The throttle is then opened and the steerer lets the boat thresh its way up the lock on its own. When the stern is about two thirds of the way up, he draws half a bottom gate paddle, runs up to the top gate, pulls it shut immediately behind the boat and makes a flying leap onto the counter. Behind him the top gate swings gently to and the lock is emptying for the second boat. ... (1984)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
I like to watch an old boatman rowing, especially one who has been hired by the hour. There is something so beautifully calm and restful about his method. It is so free from that fretful haste, that vehement striving, that is every day becoming more and more the bane of nineteenth-century life.
He is not for ever straining himself to pass all the other boats. If another boat overtakes him and passes him it does not annoy him; as a matter of fact, they all do overtake him and pass him—all those that are going his way. This would trouble and irritate some people; the sublime equanimity of the hired boatman under the ordeal affords us a beautiful lesson against ambition and uppishness. (1889)
Hillmorton lock beams locks 4 and 5 by Roy Fisher
WORKING WATER
CAPTIVE FOR A WHILE
CLIMBS CAREFULLY DOWN
THIS DOOR MAKES DEPTH (2012)
Society of Arts by Harold Cox
There was a sort of feeling current at the present time in favour of spending large amounts of the taxpayer's money in order to provide waterways which the public did not want, or at any rate which the public did not want sufficiently to pay for them, which after all was the test. Everybody who advocated the construction of canals always wanted them constructed with the taxpayer's money, and always wanted them to be worked without a toll. (February 1906)
Bread Upon The Waters by David Blagrove
(1962) Bill, the old chap in the bar corner of the Nelson in Braunston listened attentively to Leslie Morton's discourse, being consulted from time to time in such asides as, "That's so, isn't it Bill?" or, "Don't you reckon, Bill?" to which Bill would nod sagely and spread his gummy old mouth in a wide smile
Bill, the ancient, whistling through his gums, told us He'd "a bin round the Oxford River a time or two when a-Josherin," also that he had been "...up the Ippey Cut a flyin' with me dad." This meant that, when working for Fellows, Morton and Clayton, he had navigated the Thames and that, when a boy, he and his father had worked flyboats on the Wilts and Berks Canal. I had only met one boatman hitherto who had worked this long-defunct route to the West of England. He was Bill Chivers of Reading, who had died in February 1960.
Although Wilf had said his Uncle Alf carried the last load to Wantage Wharf, this old chap must have been one of the last people to work right through from Abingdon to Bath in the early years of the century. He told us that one of the flyboats had survived to work on the Grand Junction until the 1930's but he did not know where it had ended up.
It was a symbolic gathering in that quiet, sunny, little bar parlour as the clock ticked its brass pendulum back and forth. Five men, four generations, each committed to the canals in different ways. We ourselves were in our early twenties, but the old one was of a generation which was our age when the century changed. Morton, most of whose youthful companions had been lost in the 1914-18 War, was the eternal survivor and Hubert came between him and us. Anywhere else the old one's tale would have been ignored. In this company it was listened to with rapt attention because it meant something to all of us. (1984)
Quiet Waters By by David Blagrove
(1963, Pangbourne, River Thames) We went to the Middle Weir, from which we had a clear upstream. 'Never come out on your own without a weir line' said Fred. 'There's a few been lost pitching rymers'. So saying he seized one of the square posts, tied a clove hitch about the top end, through which a short round dowel passed at right angles, and, resting it dowel uppermost over his shoulder, gave me the rest of the weir line, then placing his right foot on a beam above the weir and the left foot on a beam, which he called the 'shying beam' and which was perhaps two feet away from the first, he shot the square post butt-end into the water. Instantly the water took it and sucked it in an upright position hard back against the weir beam which had notches cut in it to receive the post. Fred bent over, seized the dowel handle, twisted it sharply and with a 'clunk' the rymer sat snugly in its recess. 'The bottom of the rymer sits in a wooden sill on the bed of the weir with corresponding notches'.
He pitched several more then invited me to try. Somewhat nervously I positioned myself and shot the rymer downwards. Immediately it went sideways, shot through the weir and was retrieved by means of the weir line by a wooden-faced Fred. He gave it to me for a second attempt in which I all but followed the rymer down the weir. The third time there was a satisfying 'clu-clunk' as the rymer caught the sill and slammed into the weir beam. I twisted it and it went into its slot, slightly awry. Fred urged me to twist it slightly the opposite way, and it clunked home firmly.
The noise of the weir changed as the line of posts advanced across the gap, the river still surged and roared, but at a higher pitch. 'We'll put a few bottoms in' said Fred, and took one of the poles with transverse boards fixed to it. Going to one end of the weir, he placed the boards on the upstream side of the rymers, pole facing downstream, and with a swift movement, shot it to the bed of the weir. The pressure of water forced the boards tight against the rymers. He let me do the same with the next two paddles, and continued the row until half the weir was closed in. Once again the note of the water changed, this time becoming softer. (1998)
Quiet Waters By by David Blagrove
(1963, Pangbourne, River Thames) Fred, the lockkeeper, stood looking upstream. "This was the old flash lock, before the pound lock was cut" he said. "The old 'uns say there used to be a winch in those willows to pull boats up through. The old lock had a swinging weir beam, not this fixed bridge, but otherwise it can't have changed much".
I realised I was involved in something that was of real antiquity. Here was a simple mechanical device for raising and lowering water which did not employ rotary movement. It was the technology of the Middle Ages and maybe of Classical times. Very likely the Romans had navigated the Thames to Dorchester, and the weir was probably ancient when Domesday was compiled. How many preservers of defunct windmills, waterwheels, locomotives, steam engines would have given a thought to the humble paddle and rymer weir still performing its original function on its original site after at least a thousand years? (1998)
Hold on a Minute by Tim Wilkinson
(1948) I was feeling weak from lack of food, exhausted and dispirited, and now came a disaster from which I could see no way out. This was a mechanical problem, not one of brute force. How to lift 25 tons of cargo and 15 tons of boat up over a concrete step? It is obviously impossible, but there was a way, shown to us by a man who suddenly appeared on a bicycle.
I did as he said, but still could not see how he reckoned to lift the boat over the sill. She was in gear now. He wound up the paddles on the top gates. A great mass of water poured down into the lock, surged around the boat, passed beneath it and charged out of the open lower gates. 'Chiswick' tried to go astern with the rushing water, I held her against it on the throttle. She careered round and struck the walls, but I kept her in position.
This sudden and massive influx of water set up a wave outside the lock gates. The wave rolled away down the pound. As quickly as our friend had opened the paddles he now dropped them. The noise of crashing water ceased. I eased the throttle back to a tick over, and looked aft. 'Keep your eyes on me.' Quickly I turned and watched him. My heart suddenly seemed to miss a beat or two with sheer excitement, for I had seen something and now understood. The wave which had charged down into the pound was now rolling back towards the lock. I fingered the throttle and checked the gear lever, never taking my eyes from the smiling face above. He was watching aft, standing still. and then up went his hands, 'NOW!. Give it to her. Come on. Come ahead!' (1965)
Hold on a Minute (foreward) by L T C Rolt
All over the canal system disused wharves are acquiring a new lease of life as mooring stations for holiday cruisers. This is a result of the wide recognition of their amenity value which our canals have won during the last decade or so. This activity is to be welcomed because the alternative was stagnation and decay.
Yet those of us who have known the canals for many years must inevitably lament the passing of their old workaday life - the life of the narrow boats - which has ebbed so rapidly away in the last twenty years. The disappearance of the bravely painted and burnished narrow boats with its nomadic family will soon make this book a valuable historic document, recording so perceptively and graphically an experience that can never be repeated.
It was no romantic idyll; the authour soon discovered what it takes to keep a pair of boats on the move in all weathers. The job was tough, so tough that it was bound to become anachronism in our push-button welfare state, something for economist and sociologist alike to shake their heads over. Yet it was the way of life of a people whose like we shall not see again, a people whose qualities belong to an older England, illiterate but wise, poor yet proud. That is why those of us who were privileged to know the boaters must find the canals the poorer for their passing. (1965)
Hold on a Minute (foreward to second edition) by Tim Wilkinson
The book has become a record of a unique, small, colourful and persistently interesting social group that has almost completely faded away - the boaters of England's canals; the strange people off the cuts who lived, worked and died in their traditionally painted narrow boats.
That they strove to persist in an old, largely unchanged manner of life to preserve their customs, beliefs and superstitions far in the twentieth century was more than anachronistic, it was indicative both of a deep attachment to the nature and style of their generally inherited calling, and the width of the crevasse which eventually divided them from their contemporaries 'on the land'. No lesser reasons could have explained either their continued willingness to live under the conditions they did, or their acceptance to the end of such meagre repayment as was doled out to them for their skilful, often dangerous, always arduous work.
Although the traditional boaters and working narrow boats are gone from Britain's rivers, navigations and canals, there are today more boats, more men, women and children, using and enjoying the beauty and quiet of what remains of our inland waterways than at any time in their long and interesting histories. These wise and happy modern boaters seen here - along some still pond where herons fish, coots and moorhens scurry - an empty lay-by, a winding hole, a staircase; there, a pumping house, a cut-side inn and shop all in one; everywhere, solid evidence of a busy, engaging past. What went on in those days? How did the boaters live, work, raise families in those tiny cabins? What was a cratch, a dipper, breasting-up, a Josher? What were straps, snubbers and snatchers? (1970)
The Strange Adventures of a Houseboat by William Black
Our escapade at Shepperton was entirely lamentable and ignominious. Here the tow-path shifts to the Middlesex side, and the horse has to cross by ferry; and here, once more, Palinurus detaching the rope prematurely, we were left helpless in mid-stream, with a strong current carrying us down. Now, a man may use a boat-hook as an oar, even as he may use a walking-stick in place of an umbrella; but neither will avail him much; accordingly, we found ourselves drifting broadside on to an island. We heard Murdoch muttering to himself as he was vainly endeavouring to reach the bottom with one of these sticks.
Then a man comes running along the bank. "Throw us a line, guv'nor!" Jack Duncombe, who is at the bow, coils up the towing-rope, and heaves it, just getting it ashore. The next instant our opportune friend (his soul no doubt exultant with hopes of a shilling and subsequent beer) has got the line looped round his shoulders; gradually he gets a little way on the boat; Murdoch has to take the tiller again; and in this humiliating fashion we gain entrance to Shepperton Lock. (1888)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
To see two novices try to keep time with one another is very amusing. Bow finds it impossible to keep pace with stroke, because stroke rows in such an extraordinary fashion. Stroke is intensely indignant at this, and explains that what he has been endeavouring to do for the last ten minutes is to adapt his method to bow’s limited capacity. Bow, in turn, then becomes insulted, and requests stroke not to trouble his head about him (bow), but to devote his mind to setting a sensible stroke.
“Or, shall I take stroke?” he adds, with the evident idea that that would at once put the whole matter right. They splash along for another hundred yards with still moderate success, and then the whole secret of their trouble bursts upon stroke like a flash of inspiration. “I tell you what it is: you’ve got my sculls”, he cries, turning to bow; “pass yours over”. "Well, do you know, I’ve been wondering how it was I couldn’t get on with these”, answers bow, quite brightening up, and most willingly assisting in the exchange. “Now we shall be all right”.
But they are not — not even then. Stroke has to stretch his arms nearly out of their sockets to reach his sculls now; while bow’s pair, at each recovery, hit him a violent blow in the chest. So they change back again, and come to the conclusion that the man has given them the wrong set altogether; and over their mutual abuse of this man they become quite friendly and sympathetic. (1889)
Bread Upon The Waters by David Blagrove
Allied to the question of a narrowboat revival is that of crew. The family boat system could not realistically be revived today. It had its benefits, of course. Speaking with the experience of many years teaching adolescents I would hesitate to condemn a system where the extended family was so strong a unit as either socially or educationally undesirable. The children I knew grew up, as their forebears had done, to be sturdy, independent and intelligent - or at least those whose parents had these qualities did. Some grew up ignorant and stupid but even these had a spark of individualism and character one looks for in vain among youngsters of a similar social background in towns today.
It is both doubtful and unrealistic to think that men and women would voluntarily choose to live with a family in a minute floating box, no matter how comfortable. It is fine to have a romantic dream of the good life and of a hard but satisfying life style, but the problems beyond this cosy, bourgeois illusion are real indeed.
If such a revival should come, the crews will perforce be single men and women without families and perhaps with a permanent home on the bank. This is how it frequently was in the heyday of canals, and how large concerns, such as Fellows, Morton and Clayton, ordered things well into the third and fourth decades of the twentieth century. The way of life, both on the canals and in the surrounding villages which was recognisably the same world that LTC Rolt eloquently pictured in "Narrow Boat" twenty years earlier, has passed away for ever.
One thing still endures, the cut. May its real friends ever increase and cherish it. (1984)
Anderton For Orders by Tom Foxon
(1950) We pulled into the side and tied up at Sutton's Stop, nerve centre of the Warwickshire coal traffic and reputed mecca of all boatmen. A pair of Harvey Taylor's (a small general carrier from Aylesbury) pulled out of the lock, the Bolinder engine giving out a steady beat as they slid slowly between the lines of boats.
We walked up the towpath to find George and Sonia Smith who were tied up a little ahead of us. Welcoming lamplight shone from Warwick's cabin doors as we knocked on the cabin side and were invited aboard. Brasses gleamed and the boatmen's traditional decoration of lace edged hanging-up plates and white crochetwork surrounded us. Sonia made a pot of tea and produced some hot pies from the oven.
George recognised me from our encounter at Uxbridge. "So you've come to work on the dirty old coal boats then", he remarked. "Well, it may not be a very good job but there's some good men on it". We discussed the state of trade. Morale was far from good at that time, following the recent liquidation of Fellows, Morton & Clayton and the imposition of a loading surcharge by the National Coal Board on all coal carried by boat. I was fascinated by the talk of boats and boating and the rest of the evening passed all too quickly.
Soon it was time to say Goodnight. Back again in Columba's warm, cosy cabin, where I now felt completely at home, I soon fell asleep to the gentle lapping of water against her hull. (1988)
Bread Upon The Waters (Glossary) by David Blagrove
Cabbage Turn A sharp outside turn between Wormleighton and
Marston Doles on the Oxford Canal Summit. So called because the
nearby fields were used for growing cabbages.
Centre
paddle or Fly paddles or Ranters A paddle in a top
gate usually arranged so as to throw water clear of a loaded
boat's fore end. When fitted they save much time in locking
uphill, but many have been removed in recent years because they are
alleged to be expensive and because some idiots in pleasure boats
have been known to sink themselves with them.
Chimley
Tins Usually old Dried Milk tins thrust in the top of cabin
chimneys to carry smoke above the steerer's head and to
improve the draught.
Dolly (1) An iron stump on a
motor's counter used for towing
Dolly (2) An
implement used by boat women for washing clothes
Dolly
(3) Short for Doris or Dorothy.
Greasy
Ockers Fellows Morton and Clayton boaters called because either
(a) they carried cargoes of tallow and fat to a depot at Ocker Hill
near West Bromwich - OR - (b) the horses which used to pull butties
through the pre-1930 narrow locks between Itchington Top Lock and
Hatton Top Lock had their hocks specially greased against the mud of
the towpath. A boatman leaving the bottom of "Wigrams
Three" might send his mate on ahead to "get the
'greasy ocker' out". - Whichever is
the correct explanation, the name was given to a F.M.C. man who was
regularly on the Birmingham run from London.
Side Pond
or Economisers Basins adjoining a lock into which lockage
water can be run and subsequently reused. Rarely used or usable today
and frequently modernised into rubbish tips, the authorities then
evincing surprise at water shortages. (1984)
Anderton For Orders (Glossary) by Tom Foxon
Bottom Road - Grand Union boatmen's term for the route from Birmingham to the Warwickshire coalfield via the Birmingham & Fazeley Canal - the 'Top Road' being via Braunston. Boatmen engaged on local work would refer to the B&F as the 'Old Cut' to distinguish it from the Tame Valley Canal, known as the 'New Cut'.
Woolwich Boat - Boats built at Harland and Wolf in Woolwich for the Grand Union Canal Carrying Co. Of recent years, writers have shown a tendency to treat canal boats like railway engines by putting them into 'name' classes. Unfortunately very few of these classes are sufficiently homogenous to justify such treatment. There are a few exceptions, for instance the eight all-welded motor boats built for the Severn and Canal Carrying Co. in 1935 as the Tree Class but this is a matter of convenience and not an authentic canal term.
Boatmen would describe a boat by its size and builder eg Small Woolwich, or its owner, eg Josher, or its function eg Station Boat. Regional descriptions were to be found like Severner, Runcorn Boat or Wiganer. The idea of classes of boat is quite foreign to boatmen although it does have a limited convenience to writers. The trouble is when the idea is taken to absurd lengths as in the caption to a photo of three quite different horse boats which were described as Girl Class butties. The number of firms and boatyards which owned or built boats with girl's names is very large indeed! (1988)
Bread Upon The Waters by David Blagrove
The economic arguments in favour of carrying goods by canal are even more relevant in a world of looming energy crisis than ever before. Although a single narrow boat is labour intensive and a pair should have at least a crew of three, the sheer economy of fuel consumption has to be considered.
In the 1950s and 1960s fuel was cheaper than human labour so narrow boating died, a future world may well see the positions reversed. (1984)
WATERWAYS WORLD Keepers of Tradition by Steve Burnet
Northmoor was one of the last pound locks on the Thames built by the Thames Conservancy. It was constructed in 1896 to replace two flash locks – Hart’s, a mile upstream, and Ark Weir downstream. It is now the only remaining weir on the River Thames to have a full-span paddle-and-rymer weir to manage the river’s flow. Northmoor’s weir has a span of 35m, and there are 36 bays for paddles between the rymers.
The original rymers and paddles were wooden and were unique to each weir. In 1995, when the weir was rebuilt, the remaining wooden paddles and rymers were replaced with lighter fibreglass which are easier to use, but require work gloves to avoid fibres embedding in your hands. Working the weir remains very physical work compared to automated systems. But I like working the weir this way, and you learn the vagaries of the paddles and how they will behave when they go in or out of the rymers. If you don’t get it right, there is a risk of losing the paddle, which can hopefully be retrieved from the next lock downstream. Thankfully, I have yet to lose one!
Understanding how heavy rainfall across the Cotswolds affects the weir comes with time. Although we now have mobile phone apps that give us the rainfall figures at different catchment areas like Bourton or Rapsgate, you can only deal with the water that actually arrives at your weir. A Thames tributary, like the Windrush, can carry a lot of additional water into the river at Newbridge, so it isn’t always possible to predict how the river will behave. Some locks and weirs on the Upper Thames are in quite remote locations. I am on call 24 hours a day and have had callouts to adjust the weir at 3am or 4am. In winter, adjusting the paddles daily to maintain the river’s water levels within a safe range to avoid flooding can be necessary.
Each lock- and weir-keeper communicates with those up and downstream; it is an art, not an exact science, and comes with experience, as many variables need to be considered. Good weir-keeping can often be a matter of knowing when to leave things alone. (November 2024)
JOHN BULL Waterways To Wealth by correspondent
Super-Barges The Grand Union Canal Company is inviting Parliamentary approval for the immediate expenditure of £282,000 on erecting concrete walls; £383,000 on the construction of modern locks; £123,000 on bridges and £93,000 on dredging. If this work is carried out large motor barges, 72ft in length, and 12ft in width, will be able to ply. And think of the tasks they could accomplish! Two barges, one towing the other, could carry as many as a dozen 10-ton railway wagons from London, a distance of 240 miles, in one journey. We cannot exaggerate the importance of such facilities.
Connecting services could be established between manufacturing centres in the Midlands and the regular steamer services with all parts of the Continent. Coal from the Midlands could also be brought in increasing consignments but with a minimum of trouble, direct to the wharves of the gas and electricity companies in the south of England. These and other advantages to commerce would soon have a beneficial reaction in industry. The gradual opening up of waterways on a businesslike scale would promote work in endless directions. The building of super-barges would become a specialised industry, and the provision of their engines and all the equipment necessary for loading and discharging of cargoes would keep engineers busy. Then there would be the construction of fuel depots, locks, bridges, warehouses, for which a steady supply of iron, steel and cement would be necessary.
This is no idle dream. It is a sound reality that is being proved daily in other parts of the world. France, Germany and Poland all make full use of their waterways; the broad rivers of South America are the foundation of her wealth. The maintenance of a river costs nothing to speak of; the upkeep of a canal is one-fifth of that of a railway and one-third of that of a road. The power that can draw two tons on a road or ten on a railway will move as much as eighty on a canal. Belgian canals have been standardised to accommodate German barge traffic for craft of over 1,000 tons. From the canal banks of France, Holland, Germany, Belgium and Scandinavia, farmers are able to send their produce to English ports at less cost than the rail charges from British farms to markets.
How does it happen that we alone are backward in making use of our rivers and canals? Proper use for this Cinderella of modern transport is long overdue. (January 1931)
WATERWAYS WORLD Once More Unto the Breach by Chris Cliff
My mind flew back to the time a year after we bought the derelict hulk of the canal hire business now called Middlewich Narrow Boats and had our first day off in the week. We alternated between feeling guilty and feeling proud of our boldness, but on returning home we were met by my engineer who told us the 70' Oak had gone down with all hands on the Church Lawton pound. A slight exaggeration - the water only came up to the windows and there was only one man on it at the time, the rest having gone ahead to set the lock. One wonders at what stage they decided to investigate where the boat was and what they said to the crewman who should have replaced the weed hatch.
Now we arrived home from a short away-from-it-all break in a cottage in Wales at 10pm on Friday and as I walked in the door the phone rang with bad news about Saturday turnaround-day: "trying to get you all day - there is a breach at Stanthorne". Damson was OK at Nantwich but the three seventy-footers Oak, Sycamore and Beech were all stuck behind the breach.
Fortunately Sycamore was free until Monday and we spent Sunday afternoon reversing 2 miles to a winding-hole, then past a long line of moored boats to stop at the only available place, outside the house with a No Mooring sign. As we hammered the spikes, a head appeared over the gate and told us we couldn't. I explained the situation but the head did not relent "How would you like a coach parked outside your house?" I explained the boat was unoccupied and would be gone tomorrow, but to no avail, and we parted acrimoniously.
The breach was repaired efficiently and the canal was reopened on Tuesday. However, I could not help musing that in 1991 our boats had been involved in three major breaches: at Blackburn, Norbury and now Stanthorne. Each has involved us in much extra work and expense and we have ended up with dissatisfied and possibly lost customers. I hope it is just co-incidence, but our well loved canal system seems to be increasingly fragile. (February 1992)
Britannia Rules The Cut by Andy Wood
The last thing you would expect to see on a canal, whether in a town or the countryside, would be a Royal Navy warship. Early one morning the lock-keeper at Office Lock on the Leeds & Liverpool Canal in the middle of Leeds, still not quite awake, had the shock of his life. As the lock filled, from the toll-office window he saw a submarine and a destroyer rising majestically from the depths. He was looking at a Polaris-armed Resolution class nuclear submarine - its all-black hull sleek and menacing - and a rakish County class guided-missile destroyer.
Admittedly, they were scaled-down replicas, but even so they were a long way from the Royal Navy's natural element. Britannia Rules The Cut is the first book to investigate and explain how and why a fleet of two destroyers, a frigate and a submarine under the White Ensign came into being in the 1970s. (2009)
A Boater's Guide to Boating by Chris N. Deuchar
Cross straps The butty bows will have two short ropes, of equal length and with an eye splice at either end, permanently attached to the "T" stud. When in motion, one strap will go either side of the stem bar. They will then cross over beneath the nose of the bows before having their free eyes slipped over a dolly on each side of the motor boat counter.
Viewed from above they will make a α shape. When using cross straps, the straps should be short enough so that the butty stem bar actually rests on the motor tip-cat fender. If this then causes fouling with the swan's neck then your fenders aren't big enough or are badly adjusted. One of the beauties of cross straps is that the motor steerer has enormous control over the butty's movements. At no time is this more important than when stopping. Correctly adjusted straps will mean that the butty just digs into the fender.
On the other hand, if she is too loose, then the butty will shear off to one side or the other and a strap is likely to ping over the stem bar and you can have 10+ tons of boat hurtling sideways. This is only until the remaining slack is taken up, admittedly - but it could be dangerous or damaging so be aware of the risk. The same thing can also happen on tight turns. (1997)
WATERWAYS WORLD A Strange Sale by Kate Malcolm
We placed a boat-sale advertisement for Musket Too in the February 1984 edition of Waterways World, having been warned that selling a boat could be a slow and tedious task. But the telephone rang on the evening of the day the magazine was released and the caller said he was interested in our boat. We arranged to meet at our moorings the following afternoon; a little dilapidated yellow 'Del Boy' van pulled up and out got Mr Brown. Within 24 hours after the small-ad came out we were holding a cheque for the asking price. We tentatively presented the cheque at our bank and even paid £3.50 for a special speedy clearance. The cheque went through without a hitch and we still couldn't believe within 5 days of placing our ad in WW, Musket Too was sold.
Six month later, finishing a trip on our new boat, two CID officers visited and began by asking us about Musket Too and informed us that 'Mr Brown' was a professional housebreaker and had bought our boat as a base and store for his ill-gotten gains from local homes. We told the policeman that Mr Brown had told us he dealt in antiques. "He does - other people's". They questioned us for more than an hour and took our copy of Waterways World with the small-ad.
We experienced all sorts of emotions - disbelief, guilt, worry (would our new boat be taken from us?) - and relief when told that they could not prove that the money Mr Brown used to buy our boat was in fact stolen. Poor Musket Too was thoroughly stripped and searched. Divers were sent down into the water below in search of stolen goods. Mr Brown was eventually found guilty and sent to prison. Musket Too was taken away by the police and we never saw her again. (February 1992)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
The appointment of a Royal Commission on Canals and Waterways, which first sat to take evidence on March 21, 1906, is an event that should lead to an exhaustive and most useful enquiry into a question which has been much discussed of late years, but on which, as I hope to show, considerable misapprehension in regard to actual facts and conditions has hitherto existed.
Theoretically, there is much to be said in favour of canal restoration, and the advocates thereof have not been backward in the vigorous and frequent ventilation of their ideas. Practically, there are other all-important considerations which ought not to be overlooked, though as to these the British Public have hitherto heard very little. As a matter of detail, also, it is desirable to see whether the theory that the decline of our canals is due to their having been "captured" and "strangled" by the railway companies—a theory which many people seem to believe in as implicitly as they do, say, in the Multiplication Table — is really capable of proof, or whether that decline is not, rather, to be attributed to wholly different causes. (1906)
A short history of the 1923 BRAUNSTON CANALBOAT STRIKE by Peter Frost
On 10 August 1923, the FMC announced an intention to reduce
boatmen's wages from the following Monday.
►For
steamer captains working between Braunston and Brentford a cut of 4/-
on a round trip.
►For steamer and butty boat operating as a
pair a cut of 10/-
►For London-bound butty boats and horse
boats a reduction of 4d per ton on tonnage rates.
On 13 August the canal at Braunston made national headlines. The entire traffic on the canal, one of Britain's most important transport arteries, came to a total halt. Braunston's community of boat families were out on strike.
The TGWU and the boatmen had six main demands.
► 48 hour
working week.
►A joint committee would fix trip times and
tonnage rates.
► Captain's weekly wage 25/- and 20/-
for mates, plus agreed tonnage rates Steamer captains 22/6d and
drivers 20/-, with a bonus for the latter of 2/6d for washing
boilers. Again all plus tonnage rates.
►The agreed rates
would not be subject to any deductions for provisions for horses.
►Within twelve months of the date of this programme, two adult
males would be employed on each boat, both of whom would be
recognised as company employees and paid as such.
►A
sub-committee would be formed to inquire into the wage rates of other
canal employees such as butty boatmen, lock keepers and tradesmen.
This would make recommendations on a minimum wage level.
...After 14 hard weeks, the strike was settled ... (2013)
The Shell Book of Inland Waterways by Hugh McKnight
Flash Locks Early British river navigations were frequently obstructed by weirs either built to provide a head of water for milling purposes or to trap fish in nets or baskets. Both activities interfered seriously with movement of boats, and the conflicting interests caused endless bad feeling and disputes. One partial solution was to construct a movable section in the weir formed of small wooden flats (known as 'rimers' and 'paddles') on a framework, and another was to arrange an opening gate or door through which traffic could pass when river levels had sufficiently built up or decreased. These methods had many obvious disadvantages, for long delays would occur while the level over several miles of river changed, often interfering with the flow to mill wheels, and downhill boats would in effect shoot the rapids at considerable danger to themselves and the weir structure, while those heading upstream would have to be winched up a strong current.
More sophisticated flash-lock designs gradually evolved under such names as navigation weirs (Thames), water gates (Warwickshire Avon), staunches (East Anglia) and half locks. Those on the River Nene and Fenland tributaries of the Great Ouse, dating in some instances from the early seventeenth century, used guillotine gates set in a wooden frame. The reach of river affected by Orton Staunch on the Nene was 3 miles, which resulted in frequent delays of a day and occasionally as much as a week. Nene staunches remained shakily in use until the extensive lock-building scheme of 1936-41. The last on the Thames, Hart's, lasted until 1937, and on the Lower Avon the Cropthorne water gate was not removed until restoration of the navigation towards Evesham in 1961.
To this day a close relative of the breed can be found below Thames Lock on the Wey Navigation at Weybridge. Here a single wide-beam wooden gate is positioned across the navigation 100yd downstream of the lock, and it can be closed to raise the water level over the shallow bottom cill when boats drawing more than 3ft work through. It was habitually used for the passage of loaded grain barges until 1969. Another of these double river locks can be found on the Yorkshire Derwent at Stamford Bridge, where the stone-lined approach and chamber is distinctly banana-shaped. (1975)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The neighbourhood of Streatley and Goring is a great fishing centre. There is some excellent fishing to be had here. The river abounds in pike, roach, dace, gudgeon, and eels, just here;...
... and you can sit and fish for them all day. Some people do. They never catch them.
I never knew anybody catch anything, up the Thames, except minnows and dead cats, but that has nothing to do, of course, with fishing!
The local fisherman’s guide doesn’t say a word about catching anything. All it says is the place is “a good station for fishing”; and, from what I have seen of the district, I am quite prepared to bear out this statement. (1889)
The Shell Book of Inland Waterways by Hugh McKnight
Rotherham (35m6f from Keadby) Patches of scrubby country are mixed with waste tips and collieries at the approach to Rotherham. There is a lock at Aldwarke, 2 at Eastwood and a further (flood) lock in the town itself. Gruff but friendly keepers give willing help to pleasure craft. Rotherham has important waterside warehousing facilities to which the BACAT barges trade, and much heavy industry, of which steel production is the leading activity. A fifteenth-century bridge over the Don boasts a little chapel that after the Reformation was used as prison, almshouse and tobacconist's until its restoration in 1924.
Tinsley (39miles from Keadby) Three more locks (Ickles, Holmes and Jordan) lead to a long, curved and completely unprotected weir. Now begins the Sheffield Canal, classed as a Remainder waterway under the 1968 Transport Act. A massive steel viaduct on 2 levels carries the M1 across the valley. Tinsley locks are numbered 1 to 12 from the top, but in 1959 locks 7 and 8 were combined in a new concrete chamber with a rise and fall of about 12ft for a low railway bridge with clearance for boats beneath. Another lock has a painted sign commemorating that it was blitzed by enemy action in December 1940.
Sheffield (43miles from Keadby) The run-in to Sheffield basin is characterised by many bridges (one, partly dismantled, was a bascule), and a single-arched stone aqueduct over the Worksop road. At one stage there is a 40ft cutting, with rubbish spilling down the slopes from terraced houses along the brink. The canal saves its pièce de résistance until it finally turns into Sheffield basin, with a magnificent group of warehouses, some projecting over the water for goods to be hauled from barges direct to the storage floors. All is now dangerously unkempt, derelict and decaying, in spite of a DoE preservation order. Some use is made of this splendid haven by pleasure-craft moorings, with the potential for the most exciting canal basin in Britain. One hopes for the best, but is fearful for the future. (1975)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
The town of Rickmansworth being passed, Watford, about a mile from the canal, was settled upon as our first stopping place; and evening approaching, we went ashore to seek our well-earned repose for the night. Early to bed and early to rise was the programme, so after a light supper and a brief stroll around the outskirts of the town, we turned into bed and were not long in seeking the sleep that is said to be the reward of an easy conscience.
The sun shining through our window in the morning got us out of bed at an early hour, and we were soon splashing about in the sunlit waters of the canal. A delightful dip ended, we returned to our quarters for breakfast, and from the looks of genuine admiration expressed upon the countenance of our landlady, I should judge that our appetites did us full credit. (1899)
Frozen In by Jo Bell
You wake, and know.
The boat is still as bones
and
you, its red heart beating.
The canal was taken in its sleep
and paved with cold; the
chilled air
gathers round your feet.
The ice, disgruntled, shifts itself
and chews a little on
the hull,
sets itself to set again.
Beneath the glaze fish flicker
like grey flames,
silent, watchful.
Inside, you go on with the business
of making tea,
waiting for crocuses. (2014)
Hansard: House of Commons statement by Dr Thérèse Coffey
Since it was first created in 2012, as a private charity independent of Government, we have been very clear that the trust would have to increasingly move towards alternative sources of funding. We have been discussing this with the charity for some time and have been offering support on how it can increase income from other sources, alongside continued Government funding, which countless charities across the country do very effectively.
While there is no obligation for Government to fund the Canal & River Trust beyond 2027 I can confirm that, subject to certain conditions being met, Government will offer a new long-term funding package of over £400 million to the trust. To date we have awarded it £550 million funding and, with this further commitment, are now supporting the trust with a further total £590 million between now and 2037—a significant sum of money and a sign of the importance that we place on our inland waterways.
I look forward to continued enjoyment of our local waterways. (10 July 2023 )
Inland Waterways of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (Foreward) by Robert Aickman
It is highly desirable that we view our waterways system with new eyes. Over the last 100 years, through public inertia and the destructive activities of those responsible for competing forms of transport, British inland waterways have fallen largely into ruin and almost entirely into oblivion. It is now true to say, modifying Mr. Churchill, that about no subject so large is so little known by so many.
By purchasing sections of the system, a bit here and a bit there, in all about 35 per cent. of the whole, the railway companies early acquired a stranglehold, from the ill consequences of which few waterways have escaped. The system has been kept at the disastrous turnpike road stage of development, with standards, alike of maintenance and of charges, varying widely, and little or no attempt made to attract traffic, indeed, in many instances elaborate schemes to remove and divert it. It is a major tribute to the fundamental cheapness and efficiency of canal transport that any traffic has remained. A series of Public Enquiries has brought out the damning facts and unfailingly recommended major changes in the national interest. Never has one of these recommendations been implemented. The Inland Waterways Association exists to urge that all navigable rivers and canals in Great Britain be restored to the level of maintenance from which by law they should never have departed; and that they be fully used by both commercial and pleasure traffic. The obvious and only wise policy is to manage the waterways, like the roads, as a system: if traffic diminishes on a by-road the surface is not then allowed to go to pieces with a view to abandoning the road on the ground of "No Demand!" That is exactly what happens with canals. An entirely new national policy is now both possible and required. It is possible because many waterways have now been nationalized, so that if they continue to be mismanaged, starved and destroyed as hitherto, then it is the public, as new owners, who lose directly as well as indirectly.
It is required for two new reasons in addition to the many old ones: our impoverished economy can no longer afford to ignore what is the cheapest form of transport for a wide range of loads; and holidays with pay for millions require that the waterways be made available for pleasure boating on a vastly increased scale. (1950)
A Boater's Guide to Boating by Chris N. Deuchar
A very senior, and now sadly deceased old boatman: "You never stop learning, y'know!" and this was a source of pride to him, not of weakness as many might see it today.
The old boating techniques can be used directly in the present day, or they can be adapted for present day use. The pattern of waterway usage has changed from a purely commercial operation to the multi-functional system of today. Things are different - often for reasons of courtesy or lost lockside furniture - so I hope that the old ways will not be completely lost but may survive by new adaptation.
In many cases it is not practical to do things exactly as the working boaters. In others it is not desirable - they rarely had to contend with inexperienced other users - nor the Health and Safety measures in force today. This has all created potential areas of conflict between users, and techniques can be modified to retain their historic precedent whilst not being lost forever.
Putting into words a lot that had only existed as vague ideas in my head will now, in turn, improve my own techniques in the modern boating world. (1997)
I'd Go Back Tomorrow by Mike Lucas
Unlike a road touring company, who sometimes can have the misfortune of being in Carlisle one night and Penzance the next, our Mikron venues follow on logically one after the other, as long as you know the canal system like the back of your hand and the different problems you are likely to encounter on particular canals.
For instance, we can just about manage two miles per hour on the South Oxford Canal, but we can dash along at a stately eight miles an hour on, say, the tidal River Thames. On a shallow, narrow canal Tyseley's 24 tons feel twice as much at the tiller and she steers like a sack of coal in a crate but, once she's released on to deep water, she swims like a dolphin - poetry in motion. (2001)
The Shell Book of Inland Waterways by Hugh McKnight
Market Drayton (26m5f from Autherley) The full use of the waterway made by pleasure-boating firms has made it necessary to create a major cruiser centre. In the basin between Bridges 62 and 63 the former commercial wharves are utilised by Holidays Afloat Ltd. There is a fine warehouse at Market Drayton Wharf. Beyond the bridge is the main base of the Ladyline Group, where large purpose-built boat showrooms and a chandlery complement a specially excavated marina accommodating many cruisers moored at right-angles to the canal. The fullest possible boating facilities and services are available. Market Drayton is an attractive old town with a market, founded almost 700 years ago, and held each Wednesday. For those who prefer to get wet outside there is a large Shropshire Lido, whose swimming bath is a popular attraction with families taking holidays on the canal.
Bridge 64 Lord's Bridge Just beyond here a 3-leaved cast-iron milepost marks the distance to Nantwich (12m), Autherley (27m) and Norbury. Dating from the 1830s similar posts can be seen elsewhere on the Shropshire Union, on the Trent & Mersey Canal, and also on the A5 Holyhead Road, suggesting that the design was widely available about that time.
Bridge No 67: A well-proportioned roving bridge at Betton Coppice marks the area where a shrieking ghost is said to haunt a wooded cutting. The dark deed that gives rise to this superstition is forgotten, but doubtless there is some basis in fact for the rigid refusal of narrow-boat families ever to lie there for the night. (1975)
Inland Waterways of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (Preface) by Lewis A Edwards
The Transport Bill became an Act in January 1948, and approximately 2,000 miles of navigable rivers and canals have become national property. This factor, coupled with the efforts of The Inland Waterways Association, has begun to arouse public concern, and at long last the nation's conscience has been stirred by the failure to maintain our waterway assets to the required statutory standard to the detriment of our national economy.
This book contains information relating to all our waterways, together with details of the Northern Ireland Navigations. Some of the navigations listed are not now navigable, due to lack of maintenance, but no doubt they will be restored to working order as a large percentage are now State-owned.
The national water shortage, coupled with serious flooding in many areas is an anomaly the nation can ill afford, but it is the reward we are reaping for failing to see that our waterways were in the right hands and played their proper part in our national life. This policy of neglect can be seen to the full in the case of the Kennet and Avon Canal. This waterway was not abandoned by Parliament some years ago, although lack of maintenance had driven all traffic from it as it formed a valuable drainage area. For years it has kept in employment an army of men, almost as large as that employed on the Caledonian Ship Canal, which has for many years been State-owned. Now that both waterways are nationally owned, the Kennet and Avon Canal should become as easy to navigate as the Caledonian Canal. (1950)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
George got hold of the paper, and read us out the boating fatalities, and the weather forecast, which latter prophesied “rain, cold, wet to fine” (whatever more than usually ghastly thing in weather that may be), “occasional local thunder-storms, east wind, with general depression over the Midland Counties (London and Channel). Bar. falling.”
I do think that, of all the silly, irritating tomfoolishness by which we are plagued, this “weather-forecast” fraud is about the most aggravating. It “forecasts” precisely what happened yesterday or the day before, and precisely the opposite of what is going to happen to-day. (1889)
Narrow Boat Venture by John Poole
Our mooring for the night was near King's Sutton, just over the county boundary in Northants. The village itself is not easy to reach from the canal as the nearest bridge over the Cherwell is some few miles distant. The nearby disused railway bridge however does cross, and following a jaunt across several fields in semi-darkness, with the church spire as a landmark, the village was eventually reached and thirsts duly assuaged.
The place boasted four good inns, all of which received a visit, the drinking rate being regulated accordingly. At the last of these a country hop was being held, with an extension to twelve thirty. With a natural reluctance to leave the convivial atmosphere the crew members were faced with one and a half hours more drinking time than they had bargained for. Perhaps the least said about the return across the fields in the darkness the better and we will draw a veil across the plight of the roisterer who fell flat on to his back from the handrails of the railway bridge before rolling into the canal. Those revellers who stayed in their bunks in the morning and refused breakfast-a most unusual occurrence-shall also remain anonymous.
The next morning a shopping expedition in the light of day proved the village to be a most charming place, quite unspoiled and with no through traffic to ruin its peace and quietness. (1975)
Windlass In My Belt by John Thorpe
Starting Redshank was just a question of climbing into the engine-hole and pressing the starter button to be rewarded with a whining noise, followed by a steady 'chug-chug-chug' as the engine settled down.
Warbler was a wholly different matter. The engine had first to be primed by means of a blow-lamp heating a hot bulb on top of the casing. Methylated spirits were lit under the blowlamp itself and then, rather like the primus, you pumped hard at the critical moment inducing a fierce flame which quickly turned the hot bulb cherry red. Once, and importantly not before, the lamp was really hot you then had to work various brass polished handles and levers to achieve oil on, three strokes of the fuel pump, oil off, another three strokes and then, with no more ado, pull out the spring-loaded pin on the flywheel. Foot on the pin and kick really hard, forcing the fly wheel over against the compression, and allowing your foot to slip off the pin as you did so. Sometimes it took a couple of kicks but success was rewarded with a great roar of noise and vibration as the engine caught, running at full revs for a few moments before you adjusted the controls, allowing everything to settle down to that familiar rhythmic 'bomp-bomp... bomp' of a single Bolinder in neutral.
All this took time and, on this particular morning, Alec had decided to have a lie in! Young Lily and Phyllis started Redshank whilst we were still messing about with methylated spirits, promptly disappearing off towards Radford and leaving us to work with Greenshank. (2002)
Narrow Boat Venture by John Poole
Once through Isis lock the southern end of the Oxford Canal, we were required to turn back acutely right-handed to pass under the railway swing bridge. On Saturdays and Sundays this is kept open, but at other times there may be delays while traffic or shunting is cleared. (1975)
Windlass In My Belt by John Thorpe
By eight o'clock the next day we were swinging round in Brentford Basin and laying ourselves alongside the lighters stacked high with timber destined for the Midlands yard. My previous visits to Brentford had seen us loaded by crane but this time we were on our own. Our load had to be transhipped from lighter to narrowboat by hand.
I thought as I considered the long empty holds awaiting their cargo. There were three of us and the trick, as always, was to be organised. Stands and cross-beams were taken out which, along with the planks and the unfastening of the chains, gave clear and unfettered access to the hold. The chains would be re-fastened as the timber level reached them but the top-planks, beams and stands would not be needed and were stored amongst the cargo. The timber had to be loaded in such a way that the boat was properly trimmed, that is to say that it lay level and balanced in the water. My job was in the lighter and I passed whatever sized piece I was asked for from floorboards to heavier gauges of timber up to 4'x4'. (2002)
Narrow Boat Venture by John Poole
On the spacious waters of the Thames we felt as though we were in the open sea after our ditch crawl through the city of Oxford. Barrhead, with plenty of water under her, ran as though on ball-bearings. Going up-river we moored for the night in the reach below Godstow lock, within easy walking distance of the Trout Inn. In the morning we returned downstream to Osney lock where we were required to submit to a check by a Thames Conservancy Inspector. This official made a careful examination and decided that we just came within the requirements. He was able to issue a registration certificate and licence and we were free to go.
We were availing ourselves of one of the short-term licences which are issued to vessels visiting the river from other waters and the fee seemed most reasonable. The regulations, with new specifications issued in 1972, are covered in detail in a booklet Launch Digest, supplied free by the Conservators. All craft on the Thames, irrespective of those carrying goods or used solely as tugs, are designated as launches. A limited speed of 8mph is imposed, with sound advice to slow to 2mph under certain conditions, such as passing a sculler. Rules for safety are set out in detail in the booklet including stringent precautions to prevent pollution of the river.
It is possible that a private boat owner contemplating a visit to the Thames from the canal system may be dismayed by the formidable list of requirements to cover safety. Much thought has obviously been given to these matters and strict enforcement of the regulations can only be for the benefit of everyone concerned. (1975)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The river affords a good opportunity for dress. For once in a way, we men are able to show our taste in colours, and I think we come out very natty, if you ask me. I always like a little red in my things — red and black. You know my hair is a sort of golden brown, rather a pretty shade I’ve been told, and a dark red matches it beautifully; and then I always think a light-blue necktie goes so well with it, and a pair of those Russian-leather shoes and a red silk handkerchief round the waist — a handkerchief looks so much better than a belt.
Harris always keeps to shades or mixtures of orange or yellow, but I don’t think he is at all wise in this. His complexion is too dark for yellows. Yellows don’t suit him: there can be no question about it. I want him to take to blue as a background, with white or cream for relief; but, there! the less taste a person has in dress, the more obstinate he always seems to be. It is a great pity, because he will never be a success as it is, while there are one or two colours in which he might not really look so bad, with his hat on.
George has bought some new things for this trip, and I’m rather vexed about them. The blazer is loud. I should not like George to know that I thought so, but there really is no other word for it. He brought it home and showed it to us on Thursday evening. We asked him what colour he called it, and he said he didn’t know. He didn’t think there was a name for the colour. The man had told him it was an Oriental design. George put it on, and asked us what we thought of it. Harris said that, as an object to hang over a flower-bed in early spring to frighten the birds away, he should respect it; but that, considered as an article of dress for any human being, it made him ill. George got quite huffy; but, as Harris said, if he didn’t want his opinion, why did he ask for it? What troubles Harris and myself, with regard to it, is that we are afraid it will attract attention to the boat. (1889)
A short history of the 1923 BRAUNSTON CANALBOAT STRIKE by Peter Frost
In 1910 over thirty unions engaged in waterside transport work agreed to create the National Transport Workers' Federation, with Harry Gosling as President and later to merge into the National Union of Transport and General Workers.
At Braunston the men were paid full strike pay, regardless of their period of union membership. Donations and collections raised further £110 enabling a weekly supplement of 2/6d to married and 1/6d to single men.
On 16 August Gosling, Crump and Shaw, on behalf of the Union, met with FMC managers. The T&GWU offered a resumption of work in return for independent arbitration on the boatmen's case. FMC refused and instead threatened to close the company if the wage reductions were not accepted immediately and proposed that the reduction could be carried out in two halves. Strike meetings rejected the proposals.
In September, Harry Gosling MP (for Whitechapel and St Georges and later Minister for Transport in the 1924 Labour government) travelled to Braunston to speak to the boatmen. He emphasised the need for the organisation of canal workers in order to improve working and living conditions and he emphasised the importance of regular schooling for boat children. He spoke directly to those children at Braunston. "When I got among the children and they heard who I was, they asked if the strike was over. I told them I was sorry, but it was not over yet. They did not appear to mind in the least. They seemed relieved and told me enthusiastically that because of the strike they had been able to go to school" (2023)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
As originally constructed, our British canals included some of the greatest engineering triumphs of their day, and the reconstruction either of these or even of the ordinary canals (especially where the differences of level are exceptionally great), would afford much interesting work for engineers — and, also, to come to commonplace details, would put into circulation a certain number of millions of pounds sterling which might lead some of those engineers, at least, to take a still keener interest in the general situation.
There is absolutely no doubt that, from an engineering standpoint, reconstruction, however costly, would present no unsurmountable technical difficulties; but I must confess that when engineers, looking at the problem exclusively from their own point of view, apart from strictly economic and practical considerations, advise canal revival as a means of improving British trade, I am reminded of the famous remark of Sganerelle, in Molière's "L'Amour Médecin" — "Vous êtes orfévre, M. Josse." (1906)
The Last Number Ones JOE'S STORY by Joe Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
LEARNING THE ROAD Steering is something you can learn, but a man as has been used to it regular, he knows where the 'track' is; inside turns and outside turns. If just anybody gets on the boat they don't know which road to hold. They might run on the inside and get fast, and they might run on the outside, or they might run into a bridge until they learn it. But then they never learn the same as a man who has been brought up all his life on it. When it's very dark at night if you haven't got a light, you steer by the trees and the bridges; you have them for a bit of a guide. (1961)
TOWPATH TALK Canal restoration could form heart of £500m Derbyshire revitalisation plan by a correspondent
The Chesterfield Canal Corridor Project will provide new canal and water-based training opportunities, introduce a range of activities to attract tourists and local residents, support activities for paddle sports, introduce cycling and walking trails with fitness opportunities to improve physical and mental health, create new business opportunities along the route, develop new car parking and access to improve connectivity, introduce measures to ensure the safety and security of users, support and enhance native wildlife and habitats, and create new areas for biodiversity. (April 2025)
The Last Number Ones JOE'S STORY by Joe Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
SCHOOL'S OUT No, I can't read. No, I've never been to school, nor my brothers or sisters. I could have gone to school with me uncle at Oxford, but I wouldn't stop; I wouldn't leave me parents. I didn't like it, so I never stopped. No, none of us went, we all seemed to get on well.
Me mother sometimes told us one or two little things, you know; but you know how it was with children, they didn't bother with it. Some of them is the same today, ain't they? No, they wasn't many of us children that went to school. They seemed to hung to their parents, and used to help their parents when they got old enough to work; and that's what they bothered about. They'd got a good home, plenty to eat, and they never bothered about anything else.
No, having no schooling has made no difference to me. I'm never sorry over it. I never bothered over it. I seemed to get on just as well. If I want to know anything it seems that people will come and tell you without you asking them; when you're talking about one thing or another. And they'll do anything for you, without any trouble they seem to help one another like that - them as can read, and them as can't. It's nice you know, ain't it? And it's not only canal people - people on land too.
When I was courting my wife I used to have a letter writ by a fellow on the next barge for me, to send to my gal. No trouble. If you want to know anything he'd tell you. And when she wrote back he used to read them for me. And he never used to say nothing what was in the letter - not to other people. He was very straight. (1961)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Girls don’t look half bad in a boat, if prettily dressed. Nothing is more fetching, to my thinking, than a tasteful boating costume. But a “boating costume,” it would be as well if all ladies would understand, ought to be a costume that can be worn in a boat, and not merely under a glass-case. It utterly spoils an excursion if you have folk in the boat who are thinking all the time a good deal more of their dress than of the trip.
It was my misfortune once to go for a water picnic with two ladies of this kind. We did have a lively time! They were both beautifully got up—all lace and silky stuff, and flowers, and ribbons, and dainty shoes, and light gloves. But they were dressed for a photographic studio, not for a river picnic. They were the “boating costumes” of a French fashion-plate. It was ridiculous, fooling about in them anywhere near real earth, air, and water.
The first thing was that they thought the boat was not clean. We dusted all the seats for them, and then assured them that it was, but they didn’t believe us. One of them rubbed the cushion with the forefinger of her glove, and showed the result to the other, and they both sighed, and sat down, with the air of early Christian martyrs trying to make themselves comfortable up against the stake. You are liable to occasionally splash a little when sculling, and it appeared that a drop of water ruined those costumes. The mark never came out, and a stain was left on the dress for ever. (1889)
TOWPATH TALK Art meets nature - celebrating the River Welland by Lucy Wood
Over a three-year period Spalding, in the South Holland district of Lincolnshire, was revitalised with a creative and artistic show of strength. Twisting eels and fish sculptures were crafted in workshops to create a river walk and etched stone waymarkers were designed. An environmental education programme within local schools called Eels in the Classroom, floating eco-systems and wildflower planting, not to mention scores of volunteering opportunities and the creation of a Spalding-themed banner, brought the River Welland to life for the community living around it.
An event was held in March to mark all the achievements of the Spalding Reconnected project that saw visitors and those involved enjoy talks and performances at the Willow Eel Trap, a music-accompanied riverside walk, and lively performances by Spalding Community Choir and Morris dancers. Nick Jones, a co-director of the Arts Council funded Transported Creative People and Places programme, the creative lead for Spalding Reconnected, said the aim was to reconnect the town and its people with some aspects of its history, and to the river as a wildlife haven - "a jewel in the town's landscape crown that has perhaps been forgotten". (April 2025)
The Last Number Ones JOE'S STORY by Joe Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
Sometimes we get fast on the bottom. If we're anywhere near a lock, and we ain't got enough water, we have to go back to the other lock and draw the paddles up and put some water in the pound and flush us along. Fill the pound a bit, rise the pound and then we go.
We had some trouble getting on the bottom when we used to go to Birmingham; place called Bottom of Minworth. We used to get fast there, and we couldn't get nowhere near a lock, so we had to put two lines on, and a pulley block on. The missus used to have to get off the best way she could, and go up to the top paddles and draw them right up, and I used to go on with the mule so far. And then she'd drop the paddles, and we shorten the line up and we have a go again, until we got right up to the lock. Then we got in the lock; and that was it (1961)
TOWPATH TALK Harnessing the Power of our Rivers by Clare Balding (interview with Lucy Wood)
When rivers flood, there is a lot of destruction. Rivers deserve investment and attention because if they are properly managed, we should never have drought in this country, and we should be able to manage flooding better. You can't eradicate it completely.
Pollution is a major crisis right now. There is a lot of thought that needs to go into the rivers of the UK, and there is a lot of 'power potential' in them that isn't maximised. There are some projects that are amazingly successful. We should be relying more and more on hydroelectricity. The value of a river is its power, enrichment in our lives, a tourist attraction, a transport network. With the rise in road travel and the investment in the rail network, I think rivers have been slightly forgotten. It doesn't take billions, but it does take time and thought and a connected approach.
There are issues around pollution that clearly need to be solved as it's a really damaging problem and it's ridiculous that with modern technology we can't ensure that rivers are clean for us and the wildlife that depends upon them. (April 2025)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We had to face a strong head-wind, which made the travelling rather hard, and severely taxed the patience and skill of the steerer. Happening to chaff him once or twice when the wind got the upper hand and nearly slewed the canoe round, he challenged me to try my hand and do better. Accepting the challenge, and in the rashness of youthful confidence, I ventured to wager him that I could take the canoe, single-handed and empty, up to a certain point and back again, during which I should, of course, have to turn broadside on to the full force of the wind.
The outcome of it was that we quickly landed and emptied the canoe of all impedimenta in case of mishap, and then I started off - not so confidently, though, I may add - on my uncertain way. All went well until I attempted to turn, and then the full force of the wind catching me suddenly, over I went, after a vain attempt to steady the canoe, souse into the canal. Coming to the surface, I called out (when I had emptied my mouth of as much canal-water as I could) to Jacky that I was all right, and then, amid his uproarious mirth, I struck out for shore, pushing the canoe in front of me.
A brisk rub down and a change of flannels (we were in a secluded spot, fortunately) soon mended matters, and by the time Jacky had emptied the canoe of water and stowed away our belongings, I was ready to start again, thoroughly cured for the time being of over-confidence in my canoeing powers. (1899)
The Last Number Ones JOE'S STORY by Joe Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
We was the last horse-drawing in the Midlands, till we finished. There were one or two horses about, but not Number One the same as me. It was only just casual horses, open-boats round Birmingham, see; and these pleasure boats. Being a Number One didn't make me feel any difference to the others; we used to just jog along. Of course it's nice to feel you own your own boat - when you get it paid for. It's all right then! (1961)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We awoke next morning to find the weather damp and misty, so we dispensed, for the first time, with our morning dip, and lingered somewhat over breakfast to make up for it. A propose of eating, I should mention that all along the way we had come, fruit was in abundance, and as for apples – well, we fairly revelled in them. To my mind a good English apple, fresh picked from the tree, and with the dew upon its sun-kissed cheeks, cannot be beaten the whole world over. (1899)
WATERWAYS WORLD Life by the BCN by Andy Tidy
When Blowers Green Pumping Station worker Enoch Mason moved to a similar position at the foot of Perry Barr Locks in the 1930s, he relocated his entire family through the most expedient method available to him. He sourced a day-boat which was loaded with all their possessions and then legged for four hours through the 3,172-yard Dudley Tunnel, down the Toll End Communication Canal to join the Tame Valley Canal, and to their new canalside home. (May 2025)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We reached Sunbury Lock at half-past three. The river is sweetly pretty just there before you come to the gates, and the backwater is charming; but don’t attempt to row up it.
I tried to do so once. I was sculling, and asked the fellows who were steering if they thought it could be done, and they said, oh yes, they thought so, if I pulled hard. We were just under the little foot-bridge that crosses it between the two weirs, when they said this, and I bent down over the sculls, and set myself up, and pulled.
I pulled splendidly. I got well into a steady rhythmical swing. I put my arms, and my legs, and my back into it. I set myself a good, quick, dashing stroke, and worked in really grand style. My two friends said it was a pleasure to watch me. At the end of five minutes, I thought we ought to be pretty near the weir, and I looked up. We were under the bridge, in exactly the same spot that we were when I began, and there were those two idiots, injuring themselves by violent laughing. I had been grinding away like mad to keep that boat stuck still under that bridge.
I let other people pull up backwaters against strong streams now. (1889)
NARROW BOAT Preston’s Lost Canal Basin by Daniel Crowther
On Monday 1st April 1833, the Lancaster Canal Co launched its dedicated packet boat service with four craft, Waterwitch, Swiftsure, Swallow and Crewdson, each over 72ft long and 7ft in beam. Sir George Head described Waterwitch as a sheet iron boat, canoe-like in appearance, with a light awning of stout calico and dressed in linseed oil. Each vessel could carry up to 70 passengers.
The launch was advertised to cover the 30 miles of canal between Lancaster and Preston in about three hours, leaving Kendal earlier at 6am, then arriving in Lancaster at 1pm and Preston after 4pm.
The boats travelled at 9mph towed by two horses, with a postillion riding the first horse, sounding a horn to warn others of the vessel’s approach, while a packet master steered from the stern. The packet boats had right of way over other craft on the canal and horses were changed every four miles.
Despite the opening of the Lancaster & Preston Junction Railway on 25th June 1840, the packet boat service proved popular with cheaper fares and warmed cabins, and passed closer to centres such as Garstang than the railway. (Spring 2025)
The Last Number Ones JOE'S STORY by Joe Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
When my mother died here at Hawkesbury Stop, we took her all the way to Oxford in the empty boat.
Slung her up to the planks, and put a cloth over her, and took her straight through to Oxford. We went from here right to Oxford and never stopped, only at the locks. We kept going all the way, night and day, straight through. We went 'fly and, if you pulled up to another boat, they used to give way to you; let you go by. You go on and tell 'em you've got a corpse aboard, and then they pull to one side and let you go.
There wasn't many that took 'em by water like that - they generally used to take 'em by road. But this was a few years ago, in the first war. Me dad was buried at Oxford, and we took my mother straight through to Oxford to bury her there with my dad. Yes, dad and mother was bred and born at Oxford and we took them there to bury 'em. (1961)
LENTON TIMES The Story Of The Nottingham Canal by a correspondent
28 September 1818 A ton of gunpowder had been unloaded at the company's wharf near Wilford Street Nottingham, and was awaiting the boat that would carry it up the Nottingham and Cromford canals to various Derbyshire lead mines.
A small amount of the gunpowder had leaked on to the ground from one of the barrels and, thinking to have a bit of fun, one of the boatmen dropped a piece of hot clinker on to the loose gunpowder. Instead of the small 'flash' he had expected - the whole lot went up, killing eight men and two boys and causing damage to most of the properties between the canal and the town's market place. The man responsible for the explosion was thrown over 120yards yet amazingly was still sufficiently alive to tell his tale.
The insurance company refused to pay for the Canal Company's warehouse that had been totally destroyed, so an action was brought against the man's employers, the Nottingham Boat Co. The case was won and the canal company were to receive £1,000 compensation, but the Boat Co. simply didn't have that sort of money so eventually the settlement was reduced to £500. (May 1989)
POOR OLD HORSE - Straight from the Tunnel's Mouth by David Blagrove
A Number One came a bacca-ring by,
And they think so, and
they hope so.
I said, Old man, "that horse will
die".
Oh, poor old horse!
Oh, he'll work all night and he'll work all day,
And they say so, and they hope so.
Put him on the inside
he'll bacca-away.
Oh, poor old horse!
From Atherstone in the Hartshill length,
And they say so,
and they hope so.
T'was there that poor beast broke
his strength,
Oh, poor old horse!
And after years of such abuse,
And they say so, and they
hope so.
You're salted down for sailor's use,
Oh, poor old horse! (1975)
The Last Number Ones JOE'S STORY by Joe Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
My dad used to get his horses from the bottom of Napton against Southam, from a man who used to sell hay and corn and do a bit of dealing. We used to train a new horse by getting him on the canalside and peg him to, and a couple of you would get hold of him, one behind and one in front, just to keep him a bit straight. Just pat him, and take him up to the stretch of the line, and he has a bit of a pull, and a bit of a stop, and then he'll go again and you'll pat him, and he'll take to it perhaps all right.
Perhaps another jumps and rears up and won't go. Perhaps he might dash about and jump in the canal. It's a rum job with some of them, and some takes to it easy.
Of course, we haven't had much trouble with ours, because we've had them off other people and they've been pretty broke in. You just took them to, and off they'd go and they'd go by theirselves. I used to have two mules and they used to go many a mile theirself. No trouble. I had more mules than horses. I had one and when she died she was about thirty, I think. But I had her turned out a good while, pensioned her off. The other used to be just the same - you can send them up the stretch, and off they'd go and travel on to the place you used to feed them. And then you'd get off with the corn and hang it on them, and you either get on the boat or walk with them. They weren't a lot of trouble, but they used to like to be together. You know, they used to holler about after one another when they was parted at the locks, because they used to like to be working together all the while. (1961)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
For clothes, George said two suits of flannel would be sufficient, as we could wash them ourselves, in the river, when they got dirty. We asked him if he had ever tried washing flannels in the river, and he replied: No, not exactly himself like; but he knew some fellows who had, and it was easy enough; and Harris and I were weak enough to fancy he knew what he was talking about, and that three respectable young men, without position or influence, and with no experience in washing, could really clean their own shirts and trousers in the River Thames with a bit of soap. We were to learn in the days to come, when it was too late, that George was a miserable impostor, who could evidently have known nothing whatever about the matter. ...
We stayed two days at Streatley, and got our clothes washed. We had tried washing them ourselves, in the river and it had been a failure. Indeed, it had been more than a failure, because we were worse off after we had washed our clothes than we were before. Before we had washed them, they had been very, very dirty, it is true; but they were just wearable. After we had washed them — well, the river between Reading and Henley was much cleaner, after we had washed our clothes in it, than it was before. All the dirt contained in the river between Reading and Henley, we collected, during that wash, and worked it into our clothes.
The washerwoman at Streatley said she felt she owed it to herself to charge us just three times the usual prices for that wash. She said it had not been like washing, it had been more in the nature of excavating. We paid the bill without a murmur. (1889)
WATERWAYS JOURNAL A Lifetime of Friendship DOLLY THE MULE by Philip Kidd
Joe and Rose Skinner set about making their living with the new wooden narrowboat capable of loading up to thirty tons, but normally carrying about twenty-five tons.
At this time they were also to make a shrewd purchase when they bought an American Army mule, surplus to requirements after the end of World War One. They named her Dolly and she was to be their constant companion for the next thirty-nine years.
Industry and domestic users were at this time fully dependent on coal as a means of creating power and heat. Whilst the railways were carrying the majority of the coal and general cargo traffic available, there was still room for the small operator with low overheads to make a living. Carrying coal from the Warwickshire coalfields to canalside power stations, industrial premises and coal merchants on the Oxford Canal allowed the Number One to survive where others were forced out of business. (2001)
The Tilbury by Keepers Lock
Twenty five years on the waterway, is a long, long time
Rising at three when the sun's still asleep and all the
canal can be mine!
But watching the dawn on that cold autumn
morn, it never occurred to me
As we moved through the ark,
towards Regent's Park with the Ready, the Jane
and the Dee
The explosion occurred and everyone heard,
the end of the old Tilbury
Move on, Tilly,
let's finish the job and we're free
If only
I'd known, that cold dreary morn, held the fate of the old
Tilbury
The wife will be waiting, expecting me home, busy preparing the
tea
She was not aware, a great crash in the air, was the end of
the old Tilbury
Five tons of powder, a boat made of
wood, the hold ran with petrol and tea
They'll never
know why the flames in the sky, meant the death of the old
Tilbury
Move on, Tilly, let's finish the
job and we're free
If only I'd known, that
cold dreary morn, held the fate of the old Tilbury
(Regents Canal explosion at Macclesfield Bridge in 1874) (1997)
WATERWAYS JOURNAL A Lifetime of Friendship by Philip Kidd
Joe and Rose spent most of their working lives on the Oxford and Grand Union canals. They carried coal to Juxon Street Wharf, Oxford, for Morrell's Brewery, Oxford Power Station at Osney on the Thames (from Langley Mill on the Erewash Canal), Wolvercote paper mill and various coal merchants along the Oxford Canal. For eight years they carried to the Morris Radiator factory in north Oxford. The majority of this work was on sub-contract from SEBarlow of Tamworth.
During the long miners' strike that grew into the General Strike of 1926 they carried roadstone from Nuneaton to Buckland Wharf on the Thames above Oxford, which meant passing through Eynsham Weir when it was still a flash lock. This was a hair-raising experience, which Joe likened to "going up the roof of your house". (2001)
The Last Number Ones (foreward) by Brian Vaughton
Apart from being the last of the Number Ones, and with a mule-drawn boat at that, Joe and Rose Skinner were charming, unforgettable characters. I met them in 1961 when I was travelling the Midlands, collecting 'actuality' material for a BBC radio-documentary programme that I was compiling and editing to mark the passing of a way of life on our waterways.
Two of the chapters in this book - Joe's Story and Rose's Story - are transcripts of the tales they told me. The written word can never hope to capture the distinctive inflection of their voices. Along with the good humour that permeated from them both, it will hopefully convey something of the working life led by two boat people who, as I remember them, were Number Ones in every way. (2007)
Information on the Chesterfield Canal by British Waterways
A public meeting was called at the Red Lion, Worksop on 24th August 1769. Brindley preferred the Gainsborough route for the new canal but his advice was not taken. At a second meeting, convened in October 1769, a route to West Stockwith was chosen. This decision was influenced by the facts that it was an older river port than Gainsborough with established boat-building yards, reputable merchants and a pool of experienced labour.
The Chesterfield Canal Bill was finally passed by the House of Commons on 29th March 1771. This was celebrated by the ringing of church bells in Chesterfield, Worksop and Retford. The great task of constructing the canal could now begin. The Act of Parliament which created the "Company of Proprietors of the Canal Navigation to the River Trent" authorised the raising of £100,000 in £100 shares and an additional £50,000 if required. No work was to commence until all shares had been taken up and within four months the capital had been raised.
James Brindley was appointed Chief Engineer at a Salary of £300 per annum. He was authorised to start work on 11th July 1771. Thus began the arduous task of constructing the 45 mile long canal. It would involve 65 locks together with a host of aqueducts, bridges, new roads, cottages, warehouses and toll offices. Perhaps most difficult of all would be two tunnels at Norwood and Drakeholes. Typical of the confidence of the times, the committee decided that work should commence at Norwood Hill. At the time of its construction the 2,850 yard tunnel was the second longest in the country and took almost four years to complete. (c2008)
IWA Milepost - Boating when Not-As-Young-As-You-Were by Peggy Furniss
Having been fortunate enough to be taken on many canal trips over a number of years in almost every month of the year, when no longer able to holiday independently, I can testify to the benefit and often unexpected pleasures of spending time afloat.
Especially memorable were the ten Christmases on a narrowboat. Luckily, the first was ideal December weather: bright, cold days and clear, moonlit nights, resulting in ice-breaking, with the added entertainment of watching the ducks and swans sliding about on the moving ice. Warmth and comfort were more than adequately provided by the radiators heated from the engine, as well as a very efficient stove.
We had an unexpected ride in the Big Wheel in Birmingham, giving a splendid aerial view over the city with its festive lights. We pressed the button promising a commentary, to be regaled with descriptions of Notre Dame and Moulin Rouge: the wheel had been hired from Paris for the few days of Christmas and no-one knew about the commentaries!
Memorable moments included arriving in Stratford-on-Avon on Christmas Eve, where the crew entertained the assembled company moored near the statue of Shakespeare to some handbell ringing. Another festive season saw us moored beneath Chester Cathedral with bellringing in the Campanile, which we were invited to explore on Christmas morning, back in the days when we able to negotiate the spiral staircase and take advantage of a welcome seat in the spectators' gallery (January 2019)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
I don’t know why it should be, but everybody is always so exceptionally irritable on the river. Little mishaps, that you would hardly notice on dry land, drive you nearly frantic with rage, when they occur on the water.
When Harris or George makes an ass of himself on dry land, I smile indulgently; when they behave in a chuckle-head way on the river, I use the most blood-curdling language to them. When another boat gets in my way, I feel I want to take an oar and kill all the people in it. (1889)
Waterways Ombudsman Annual Report by Waterways Ombudsman
Case No.5 The complainant owned a narrowboat jointly with six others and the boat was managed on their behalf by a limited company, in whose name the craft was registered. British Waterways required the boat to have a Business Licence, rather than a Private Pleasure Boat Licence.
The difference in cost was about £700pa and the complainant considered the requirement to have the more expensive licence was unfair, because the boat was wholly private. It did not trade, carry passengers or make money for its owners. Although the owners engaged a limited company to manage the boat, all the expenses were borne by them.
British Waterways pointed out that they had engaged in wide consultation in 2002 about the licensing structure which confimed the principle that higher fees would continue for craft used for business purposes and they now recognised the impracticality of charging the higher fee for informal boat share arrangements (where no company is involved), and that they saw no reason why a group of friends clubbing together to buy a boat in the name of one of their members should pay more than any other Private Pleasure Boat Licence holder.
I considered that it was inequitable in principle for British Waterways to require a Business Licence for the boat which was used for private purposes (although managed by a business). I took into account that no Business Licence was required from co-owners who do not employ a commercial company to manage their boat and recommended that British Waterways adjusted their charge to that appropriate to a Private Pleasure Boat Licence with effect from April 2004. (2004)
British Canals - reproduction of a poster by Charles Hadfield
HEREFORDSHIRE AND GLOUCESTERSHIRE CANAL.
TAKE NOTICE, that in pursuance of the powers in that behalf
contained in the Newent Railway Act, 1873, and the Ross and Ledbury
Railway Act, 1873, it is intended on and after the 30th day of June,
1881,
TO STOP UP AND CLOSE
so much and such part of the
CANAL known as the Herefordshire and Gloucestershire Canal as is
situate BETWEEN the Worcester and Hereford Railway at LEDBURY in the
County of Hereford and the River Severn in the City of GLOUCESTER,
and that all rights of way or navigation and other rights and
privileges if any along, upon, or over such part of the said Canal
with the Banks and Towing Path will as from the said 30th day of June
cease and determine accordingly.
AND FURTHER TAKE NOTICE, that all persons who will be affected by
the closing of the said portion of the Canal are required, on or
before the said 30th day of June, to remove their Barges, Boats, and
other Craft accordingly.
Dated this 2nd day of June, 1881.
BY ORDER,
[Printed by] Waterlow and Sons Limited, Frinton,
London Wall, Lendos. (1950)
The Last Number Ones ROSE'S STORY by Rose Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
A WOMAN'S WORK My mother, of course, was like other boat ladies. She used to have to work going along and then, when you was stopped, you'd got to do the working, and she used to have to do the cooking going along. Well, they worked really harder than what the men do boating, you know; 'cause the women have got a certain amount of work to do when they tie up.
We used to have to unload our boat, women too! I've done lot of unloading. First it were coal, and then it were granite. The first coal unloadings I done was at Rugby when I were eleven year old. Well, I helped father took some out. That was also the last place I done any unloading - when I was sixty!
Oh yes, I'm used to these shovels. Father used to have the shovels new, and then used to cut them off shorter for the likes of us girls, you see. And we used to have to do a lot of wheelbarrow work, we had. Off the boat at 20ft, and then, perhaps, a 20ft plank when you got off the boat.
Hard - it was hard work, you know. I mean, it was hard work for girls, you see. They reckon it don't come so bad with men! But, of course, when I was with my parents and we started on this work it was more or less when the First World War started, and then you couldn't get nobody to help you. So what could you do? You couldn't let your father get sixty-two ton of stuff out himself could you, when you were young women? You really wasn't forced to do, but it didn't seem right did it, to let your father do it all?
There was the shovel a-shovelling it, and then tooking it up in the barrow and then handling the barrow, you see - it was all hard work which makes your hands awful hard. We used to do the two boats in the one day, me and my father, and another sister of mine. Yes - average something from sixty ton to sixty-two. (1961)
British Canals an Illustrated History by Charles Hadfield
A big project of this period was the Portsmouth & Arundel, the unluckiest of all canals. In 1813 an Act had been obtained for the Wey & Arun Junction, by means of which goods could be brought from London up the Thames to Weybridge, through the Wey river and the Wey & Arun Junction Canal to the River Arun, by which they could be taken to Arundel and Littlehampton.
It was probably because this new means of communication with London was coming into existence that the Portsmouth & Arundel was planned to connect those towns, and so give a through water communication with London. It was proposed to make a canal from Ford on the Arun to Chichester harbour. Thence a channel was to be dredged round Thorney and Hayling Islands and across Langstone harbour to Portsea Island. Thence a canal was to be cut across the peninsula to Portsmouth. Before the canal was finished an agreement for tolls on traffic worked through the Portsmouth & Arundel, the Arun, and the Wey & Arun Junction, was made, and this last canal altered its waterway so that the same barges could be used for the through passage.
The Portsmouth section of the canal was opened in September 1822, and the whole canal in May 1823. A certain amount of through traffic resulted, but on 3 December 1824 there was an indignant meeting in Portsmouth about sea-water from the canal on the island getting into the springs and wells from which the people who lived near the waterway had their drinking water. Three weeks later the proprietors stated that compensation had been given in certain cases, but that the Company 'were not to be dictated to by any set of individuals, however respectable'.
The company survived, and made efforts to build up the through trade, which, however, languished and died. So did the Portsmouth & Arundel Canal. The Portsea portion became disused about 1838, and about 1855 the rest of the canal followed it, except for the short branch from Chichester to Chichester harbour, which had been built on a larger scale. the company was finally wound up in 1888. (1959)
Illustrated London News by a correspondent
An extraordinary accident, which happened yesterday week at five o'clock in the morning, cost the loss of several lives, much damage to houses and furniture, and a vast alarm to the north-western suburbs of London. This was the blowing up of a barge laden with petroleum and gunpowder for blasting, which was one of a train drawn by a steam-tug along the Regent's Canal.
The train of six light barges, of which the first was a steamer, left the wharf in the City-road about three o'clock that morning. Next after the steamer, the Ready, was the fly-boat Jane, whose steerer or captain was named Boswell. Next to her was the Dee, the steerer Edwards; and next came the unfortunate Tilbury. The Jane "had a little gunpowder on board". The Tilbury's lading is thus described by the official report: "The cargo consisted chiefly of sugar and other miscellaneous articles, such as nuts, straw-boards, coffee, and some two or three barrels of petroleum, and about five tons of gun- powder."
Three or four minutes before five o'clock, this train of barges was passing under the bridge at North Gate, Regent's Park.... On board the ill-fated Tilbury were the steersman, Charles Baxton, of Loughborough, who was about thirty-five years of age; William Taylor, a labourer, of twenty-five; another man and a boy. The Tilbury was directly under the bridge when the powder caught fire and the whole was blown up. The men on board this barge were killed. A column of thick smoke and a great blaze of fire followed the explosion. The bridge was entirely destroyed; several of the neighbouring houses were half-ruined, their roofs and walls being greatly injured. The noise and shock were perceived in every quarter of London, and in many instances ten or twelve miles away. (10 October 1874)
The Last Number Ones ROSE'S STORY by Rose Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
CROCHETING AND CABIN WORK I've done some crocheting in my time, and knitting, and sewing. You decorate the cabins with crocheting, and it comes natural to you. When you're young you get along with some of those other girls or young women and they learn you to do it, and then you set to work and do it. Oh, I'm very fond of crocheting, very fond. We used to do just the ordinary for boats, not anything special - but. I have done a lot of fancy work in my time. A lot of these 'ere fancy doilies and all that for houses.
My mother taught me washing, cleaning, sewing and cooking; she used to learn you that. You used to learn the boating, as you grew up, you know. She learnt us to sew when we was very young. And then, as we got older we used to have to help wash, and cook, and clean - all that. You could always find something to do. Unlike some of the young ones now - do nothing! (1961)
The Thames to the Solent - by Canal and Sea by J. B. Dashwood
The lock-keeper at Weybridge we found most civil and obliging, and he readily lent us the magic wand which passed us from one end of this part of the canal to the other. Although possessed of this formidable weapon, let me counsel those who are not adepts at its use to beware how they trifle with it, lest perchance they either inflict woeful wounds on their hands, or worse than all, fall headlong into the lock. The hatches of many of these locks are placed, goodness knows why, in the very centre of the gates, and in order to open and shut them, it is necessary to sit astride the gates, place the point of the crowbar in the niches of the hatch, and by violent jerks raise it inch by inch until the flood gates are opened. These hatches are always very stiff and difficult to raise and lower, and as it is necessary to get a good leverage, the crowbar must be worked from the extreme end of the handle, and if, whilst the wrench is made, the point should slip out of the niche into which it is placed, away goes the unfortunate being into the water.
We fortunately received a lesson in the art of lock opening from a Cambridge friend, who kindly voluntered to show us the knack, and thereby put us au fait of opening these annoying, though useful obstacles to our journey. Ire accompanied us through the second lock, and having imparted a warning to me to be careful how I dealt with these infernal machines, I am happy to say I got through our journey without a ducking, though not without some reminiscences of my labours in the shape of Cuts and bruizes. (1868)
The Last Number Ones ROSE'S STORY by Rose Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
I used to make my husband's shirts, and put the cross-way tucks down the front of them the same as we used to put on our skirts. And the turn-down collars too. Always bought the Oxford shirting for them. I think boat people were smarter years ago than they are today, 'cause they used to have the nice white shirts, and white cords - and nice waistcoats with the pearl buttons on. Nice velvet caps they used to have. These old steamboat men used to be very fine, you know. Used to look lovely. Of course, they're all more or less like town people now. But, look at my husband - he likes his cords now, he does. Yes, not many ready-made clothes he has, he more or less has to have all his made, you know. (1961)
The Trouble With Canals by John Liley
Canoeing on the Upper Thames followed; we knew our Jerome K Jerome. We could pass through locks if we wished, or over a roller system at one side. The Thames was a recognized navigation, and was not under threat. It was not part of the Transport Commission's dreadful empire. Instead, it had a Conservancy to supervise it, which it did with diligence. Bearing no freight, its appeal rested upon a kind of gentility, the aura that might surround a tennis club. From Lechlade down, it was in good condition. No politicians, civil servants, or councillors with a yearning for car parks appeared to object to it. In lovely surroundings were well-maintained structures, lock-keepers on a regular basis, waterside estaminets. All this for pleasure seekers, with no sense of crisis at all. Why then the mental block concerning the canals, upon which freight was an irrelevance? It was all very strange. (2017)
My Holidays On Inland Waterways by P Bonthron
The Thames and Severn was our first experience. It is 29 miles long, with 44 locks; one enters at Inglesham, about three-quarters of a mile above Lechlade Wharf. The report about the condition of the weeds there was such that we re-engaged our horseman, "John Gilpin", who not only stood by, but did yeoman service in pulling us through the parts where the propeller refused to go round, and glad we were of the auxiliary assistance; and in this one enjoys a new and pleasant sensation after the vibrating engines, although, of course, this mode of progression is infra dig to the motor boat tourist.
En route we passed Latton (Wilts), the junction for the North Wilts Canal, leading to Abingdon, via the Wilts and Berks Canal, but both these waterways have now been abandoned. The scenery along the banks of the canal is pleasing at many points, and it is the rural character that makes this class of travelling so attractive. We passed such places as Kempsford (Glos) and Cricklade (Wilts), and eventually reached Cirencester (Glos) by a cutting about 1½ miles from the main canal. It was an early start next morning, with a heavy day's work before us. The weather broke badly at our start; there had been a very heavy rain all night through, but we were rather pleased at this, as the Thames and Severn water was not then over-abundant on the summit. (1916)
Windlass In My Belt by John Thorpe
In Limehouse Basin Alec loaded the pair in layers with plenty of heavy timber at the bottom in order to obviate any danger of being top-heavy. Lil pottered about stowing odd bits, helping me heave some of the heavier pieces out of the bottom of the lighter, making welcome cups of tea, and generally encouraging us to keep going. It was not especially heavy work, but it did need care and concentration with each piece having to be fitted properly into place and not just chucked in willy nilly.
Hour after hour we went on and it was the afternoon of the second day before both boats were fully laden and clothed up. The timber was a light cargo and we loaded to about eighteen inches above the gunwale before stretching the side-cloths up and over it, not to keep it dry but to prevent it from falling off the boat.
The pair still had plenty of freeboard but to have loaded anymore would have presented an increasing danger of top-heaviness, as it was the boats rolled quite alarmingly if you climbed on board a little too enthusiastically. (2002)
The Last Number Ones ROSE'S STORY by Rose Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
Of course our clothing were like all the rest of the people on the canal. We used to have these 'ere striped skirts and braid round them, and cross-way tucks round them, and the tucks in them. Used to have to make all our own, you know. Sit and make them by hand.
Some had sewing machines but I couldn't afford a sewing machine - we used to sit and make the stuff ourselves. Bonnets and blouses and skirts and aprons, and all your own underwear you had to make, you know. I used to trim mine with crocheting; make crocheting and put it on all my underclothes.
When you was steering in the winter, you used to get some coats on to keep you warm. Get a nice good thick coat and get huddled up to keep you warm. You're all right steering till about the waistline, you see. Then the other parts all up above - your feet and all that, keep nice and warm - but the top part of your body don't. If the wind meets you you get it in the face pretty hard. I think when you had the cold weather come on you, when you'd just had one day of cold, I think you didn't feel it much next day. You seem to kind of got used to it. (1961)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
A sea trip does you good when you are going to have a couple of months of it, but, for a week, it is wicked. You start on Monday with the idea implanted in your bosom that you are going to enjoy yourself. You wave an airy adieu to the boys on shore, light your biggest pipe, and swagger about the deck as if you were Captain Cook, Sir Francis Drake, and Christopher Columbus all rolled into one.
On Tuesday, you wish you hadn’t come. On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, you wish you were dead. On Saturday, you are able to swallow a little beef tea, and to sit up on deck, and answer with a wan, sweet smile when kind-hearted people ask you how you feel now.
On Sunday, you begin to walk about again, and take solid food. And on Monday morning, as, with your bag and umbrella in your hand, you stand by the gunwale, waiting to step ashore, you begin to thoroughly like it. (1889)
The Last Number Ones ROSE'S STORY by Rose Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
I've made bonnets, but I never did wear many. Only had two, one black one, and one print one; because they didn't seem to suit my head. There's a lot of tedious work in them, you know. There's a lot of tuck work, and what you run the bonnet cord through - little gullies in it. Then when you'd finished them and got them all fixed up you'd got to put all this 'ere fine lace around them. Oh dear, it was some work in them, but the boat people used to wear them regularly, you know.
There's not many today as could make a bonnet, I don't think. The trouble is getting the kind of linen to make them, and getting the bonnet cord to put in them. You see, you want a certain amount of bonnet cord for the head piece and, if you don't have that, you see, you don't keep the tucks right as goes over the head part. Also you want one to pull to pieces to take a pattern off to cut them out by. We used to beg an old bonnet off somebody and pull it to pieces - and then cut your patterns out by it.
If we saw some cloth in a shop that we liked we used to buy it and make a bonnet up ourselves. There was one shop at Long Buckby, they used to make them there, and another place up against Cheddington - lady used to make them. But we used to sit and make on our own more or less. (1961)
Foxton Locks and Inclined Plane by Foxton Inclined Plane Trust
Each operation of the Foxton Lift would use only one per cent of a wide lockful of water - the amount lost between the gates when docking. Equal combinations of boat traffic up and down had a similar effect; the greater the load (displacement) UP in the way of boats, the greater the LOSS of water (up to 37 per cent). Conversely, loaded boats passing DOWN could actually have the effect of ADDING water to the summit - in the case of a loaded boat down and an empty tank up, by 37 per cent of a wide lockful of water.
Too much detailed discussion along these lines can be somewhat academic, however if odd traffic patterns were maintained, where would all the extra water come from in the end? Things cannot be considered in isolation in this way; suffice to say that a complete system with twin lifts (Foxton and Watford) would consume very little water, the only headaches then being the effect of loading and unloading on the summit. (1982)
The Last Number Ones ROSE'S STORY by Rose Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
THE CABINS The cabin is small, but when you've been brought up in it you don't seem to take no notice of the cramped conditions. You know you simply all get in if there's a lot of children. You all get in there and you keep pushing some way, and you get somewhere. I know none of us would never have no food in what we call the last boat we always wanted it in the first, in the proper living boat. No, we wouldn't have it in the other boat. The cabins are partly registered for three, you know - but I mean they have had three or four children in one cabin - besides the parents. (1961)
Foxton Locks and Inclined Plane by Foxton Inclined Plane Trust
To understand the method of working, follow an imaginary journey through the lift. Approaching beneath the wide arch of the bottom dock bridge, the boatman would see the Lift tank, down with the guillotine still raised following the exit of the previous boat. Drifting into position, the gate is lowered behind him, mooring ropes made fast to the bollards, and the horse led away. A uniformed attendant broke the hydraulic connection, ducked into his cabin, and signalled over the telegraph to his colleague in the winding house above. A pause, then movement, very slow at first.
As the tank rose from the canal, the motion created a standing wave which ran across the bottom dock, lapping on the slope. Water cascaded from the recesses in the wheel assemblies and dripped from the structure-work, and started the long climb, the smooth ride up the lift completed in a ten minutes. There was time to relax and contemplate the surrounding countryside. From the boat, looking back down the hill, the feeling was similar to crossing an aqueduct. At Foxton, though, the unique sideways movement heightened this sensation.
Nearing the top, progress would slacken as the tank rolled slowly over the crest. The lift operator would control the docking as the rear wheels slipped into their pit and the leading wheel flanges nudged into the timber stops, finally coming to rest. Another attendant wound a handwheel controlling a valve set in the dock gate, and the gap between the end gates quickly flooded. With the hydraulics reconnected to the gate cylinders tank, both sets were raised. The horse, having plodded up the path round the site, led by a boy, was hitched up, the line tightening to start the boat out of the Lift entrance. Drips from the raised gates would spatter on the sidecloths. The boat was on its journey once more, out across the 'twenty mile'. (1982)
The Last Number Ones ROSE'S STORY by Rose Skinner (taped interview transcribed by Brian Vaughton)
In the winter you have a job to hold the ropes when they're icy. They get all slippy and you can't hold them; lines and straps. The lines they get like pokers when it's frosty weather. You know, they keep going in the water and then you pull them out, and the more times you pull them out the more ice they accumulate, you see. Just like handling a poker to handle some of them, when it's been frosty. (1961)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
There was a barometer hanging up in a hotel at Oxford and, when I got there, it was pointing to set fair.
It was simply pouring with rain outside, and had been all day; and I couldn’t quite make matters out. I tapped the barometer, and it jumped up and pointed to very dry. The Boots stopped as he was passing, and said he expected it meant tomorrow. I fancied that maybe it was thinking of the week before last, but Boots said, No, he thought not.
I tapped it again the next morning, and it went up still higher, and the rain came down faster than ever. On Wednesday I went and hit it again, and the pointer went round towards set fair, very dry, and much heat, until it was stopped by the peg, and couldn’t go any further. It tried its best, but the instrument was built so that it couldn’t prophesy fine weather any harder than it did without breaking itself. It evidently wanted to go on, and prognosticate drought, and water famine, and sunstroke, and simooms, and such things, but the peg prevented it, and it had to be content with pointing to the mere commonplace very dry.
Meanwhile, the rain came down in a steady torrent, and the lower part of the town was under water, owing to the river having overflowed. (1889)
Yorkshire Waterways by Peter L Smith
River Idle The river as a cruiseway is not really recommended as entrance from the tidal Trent is difficult, requiring the lifting of a single guillotine gate which can only be accomplished when the water levels are equal.
The journey along the river is not inspiring, for the channel slides along between high grass banks for the most part, offering nothing but a long boring journey. A former lock, located at Misterton, has long been removed and the eleven-mile journey finally comes to an end at Bawtry, the head of the navigation. Because there is no winding point there, only small vessels can make the journey. Others have to reverse, and that may mean for the whole of the navigation. (1978)
Water Ways by Christine Richardson
River Idle Navigable to Bawtry; 26 miles long, No locks or tunnels
Confined between floodbanks, obediently flowing when and where ordered, and generally boatless, the Idle has nothing of a liberated river's generous nature. But if fresh air and exercise are required, the paths along the tops of the grassy floodbanks give walkers access to mind-clearing wide open spaces - far from roads and railways, with manicured fields spreading to a distant encircling horizon.
The Idle is a reclusive river; its only uncharacteristic foray into the limelight a graceful passage through King's Park in the centre of Retford. However, in its earlier forms the Idle is anything but unnoticed - it is created by the merging of the rivers Poulter, Meden and Maun and consists of water that has flowed through the grounds, and formed the lakes, of Nottinghamshire's much-visited Clumber Park, Welbeck Abbey, Thoresby Hall, and Rufford Abbey.
Such illustrious surroundings are lost when the Idle is formed. (1995)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
After a stiff paddle through charming woodland scenery, and passing en route Bedworth, the most active part of the Warwickshire coal-fields, we reached Nuneaton, where we went ashore and engaged a room for the night under the hospitable roof of the White Horse.
A stroll around Nuneaton before bedtime afforded us much delight, as the old town is full of antiquity, and is also known to fame as the birthplace of George Eliot. In the morning we took mine host's little son and daughter with us in the canoe as far as Atherston, where we sent them safely back by train, thoroughly delighted with their novel experience, ours being the only craft of the kind that they had ever seen in those parts. (1899)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
Both canals and railways were, in their early days, made according to local conditions, and were intended to serve local purposes. The design and dimensions of the canal boat used were influenced by the depth and nature of the estuary or river along which it might require to proceed, and the size of the lock might vary according to whether the lock was constructed on a low level, where there was ample water, or on a high level, where economy in the use of water had to be practised. Uniformity under these varying conditions would certainly have been difficult to secure, and, in effect, it was not attempted.
Though the canals suited local conditions, they became unavailable for through traffic, except in boats sufficiently small to pass the smallest lock or the narrowest and shallowest canal en route. Then the lack of uniformity in construction was accompanied by a lack of unity in management. Each and every through route was divided among, as a rule, from four to eight or ten different navigations, and a boat-owner making the journey had to deal separately with each. (1906)
The Strange Adventures of a Houseboat by William Black
We came to a lock, and, having passed through, emerged into the swift-flowing and osiered Cherwell. Here abundant evidence of the recent floods was all around us - wide stretches of meadow had been turned into a continuous lake, with nothing to be seen but pollard-willows and half-submerged masses of marsh-marigold; the tow-path was under water; Murdoch, being ashore, had to pick and splash his way along, while Columbus and the Horse-Marine had mounted their gallant steed and rode secure; and the Cherwell itself was coming down in extraordinary volume and with tremendous force.
Steering, and observing that the heaviest rush of the river was along the western shore, I thought I could cheat the current by edging out towards mid-stream, and proceeded to do so with all imaginary caution. But the moment the heavy weight of water got a grip of the bow, the boat was twisted round, so that the full force of the stream bore down upon her broadside on; while the strain of the tow-rope, acting at this awkward angle, proceeded to tilt us over in a very alarming fashion. It was an affair of only a moment or two; for by jamming the tiller over she was presently righted; and beyond a scream from the women, and a ghastly rattle of crockery in the pantry, nothing happened. But it convinced us of two things: first, that it was well for us that the Nameless Barge had been constructed below on the lines of an ordinary boat, instead of being a flat-bottomed punt; and, secondly, that the steersman of a vessel that is being towed by a horse, should not try to be too clever when the stream is in heavy flood. (1888)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
I don’t think I ever remember to have seen Moulsey Lock, before, with only one boat in it. It is, I suppose, Boulter’s not even excepted, the busiest lock on the river.
I have stood and watched it, sometimes, when you could not see any water at all, but only a brilliant tangle of bright blazers, and gay caps, and saucy hats, and many-coloured parasols, and silken rugs, and cloaks, and streaming ribbons, and dainty whites; when looking down into the lock from the quay, you might fancy it was a huge box into which flowers of every hue and shade had been thrown pell-mell, and lay piled up in a rainbow heap, that covered every corner.
On a fine Sunday it presents this appearance nearly all day long, while, up the stream, and down the stream, lie, waiting their turn, outside the gates, long lines of still more boats; and boats are drawing near and passing away, so that the sunny river, from the Palace up to Hampton Church, is dotted and decked with yellow, and blue, and orange, and white, and red, and pink. All the inhabitants of Hampton and Moulsey dress themselves up in boating costume, and come and mouch round the lock with their dogs, and flirt, and smoke, and watch the boats; and, altogether, what with the caps and jackets of the men, the pretty coloured dresses of the women, the excited dogs, the moving boats, the white sails, the pleasant landscape, and the sparkling water, it is one of the gayest sights I know of near this dull old London town. (1889)
The Thames to the Solent - by Canal and Sea by J B Dashwood
True enough, at 4.30am I awoke and roused the house; it was a first-class morning, with the delicious freshness of those early morning hours. After a bit the little inn was in a bustle-hot and boots polished like mirrors; thus our toilettes were accomplished with as much comfort as if we had been chez nous. The breakfast of cold meat, eggs, toast, and coffee awaiting us at the given hour of 5.45am A little before 7 o'clock we reached Newbridge where our boat lay quietly at her moorings, wet with her morning bath of dew.
The bargees and lockmen had informed us, the day before, that we need not encumber ourselves with crowbar or winch, for we should find them at the locks pro bona publico. In about an hour's time we reached the first lock, which was opened for us whilst we watched the lockkeeper's wife and two pretty daughters making butter in the early morn. The Canal, after leaving Newbridge, becomes much narrower, and the locks are considerably smaller, with single instead of double gates.
We had about three locks to pass before we arrived at the great Pallingham Lock, which is the largest I ever saw-about 40 feet long and 30 feet deep, and wide enough for two goodsized barges to lie alongside each other. The lock-keeper was not at home, so I had to fill this great basin single-handed, which was no joke, for it required a considerable amount of strength. Here was the receiving-house of the Arun Canal Company, where we were called upon to pay a shilling toll. A short distance after passing through we entered the River Arun. (1868)
Scott's Last Expedition The Journals ... by Captain Robert Falcon Scott
Sunday, December 25 1910, Christmas Day. Dead reckoning 69°5'S, 178°30'E.
The night before last I had bright hopes that this Christmas Day would see us in open water. The scene is altogether too Christmassy. Ice surrounds us, low nimbus clouds intermittently discharging light snow-flakes obscure the sky, here and there small pools of open water throw shafts of black shadow on to the cloud - this black predominates in the direction from whence we have come, elsewhere the white haze of ice blink is pervading.
We are captured. We do practically nothing under sail to push through, and could do little under steam, and at each step forward the possibility of advance seems to lessen. The wind which has persisted from the west for so long fell last night, and to-day comes from the N.E. by N., a steady breeze from 2 to 3 in force. Since one must have hope, ours is pinned to the possible effect of a continuance of easterly wind. Again the call is for patience and again patience. Here at least we seem to enjoy full security. The ice is so thin that it could not hurt by pressure - there are no bergs within reasonable distance - indeed the thinness of the ice is one of the most tantalising conditions. In spite of the unpropitious prospect everyone on board is cheerful and one foresees a merry dinner to-night. The mess is gaily decorated with our various banners. There was full attendance at the Service this morning and a lusty singing of hymns.
Should we now try to go east or west? (published 1923)
Ten Minutes' Reading of Plain Observations upon Canals and Navigable Rivers by George Beadon, Commander RN
THE following observations are written to awaken a sense of the necessity of renovating and adapting the inland Water Channels to a judicious application of Steam Power, for the transmission of merchandise and heavy goods generally, but more particularly for the transmission of agricultural produce, manure, lime, cattle, coal, building materials - and the immediate productions of our soil and of our manufactories. The surface of Great Britain is intersected by one hundred and ten distinct lines of canal, occupying in length two thousand four hundred miles, beside a great many shorter branches, and innumerable navigable rivers.
In the tunnels, Englishmen are employed, at high wages, to induce them to perform the dark, and laborious, and slow business of "legging," as practised for example, at the Blissworth tunnel. Forty men are constantly kept there, to push the boats through. They lie on their backs in the boats, and putting their feet against the bricked wall, thus propel themselves slowly through some miles of underground tunnel. These men are paid 3/- a day each, or, on the average £6 a day which, (allowing 300 working days in the year) makes a sum total of £1800 per annum.
The new method proposed, which is that of "underrunning" by Steam power, a single warp of galvanized wire rope, or small chain, laid in the middle of the canal.
I will undertake to pass the boats in a tenth part of the time, at a less cost, including outlay, interest for capital, wear, tear, and wages, and every possible expense, by many hundreds. Inviting as this enterprise would be (and there are many such tunnels); and although it may be deriving a large increase of income to work them, these bonnes bouches are for those, and those only, who will embark their capital in demonstrating a short length of canal as an example to the world of the practical means of not only restoring the pristine vigour and utility of all inland channels, but of realising, to the fullest extent, the advantages set forth in the title, and of rendering them as beneficial as ever to their proprietors and to the public. (1868)
THE EYE OF THE WIND an autobiography by Peter Scott
(1941) Verity's Officer of the Watch had ordered "Starboard. ten" and was describing a loop at the end of his zig-zag so as to check that no U-boats were following the convoy. Things moved fast now, for of a sudden I realised that Verity was still turning towards us and rapidly closing us.She was now approaching on a collision course from our starboard side and it was therefore incumbent upon us to keep clear of her. My first impulse was to put on the brakes and then to alter course. "Stop both," I called down the voice pipe. "Full astern both - hard-a-port." Then I moved to the Captain's voice pipe. "Captain, sir, I think you should come up at once as I am afraid there is going to be a collision." There was nothing more to do. You cannot stop ships dead in their tracks. The two destroyers swept on inexorably and interminably towards each other. In a few seconds the Captain was beside me. "You know, Number One, I think you're right; are you going full astern ?" "Yes, sir," and we stood and waited. From right to left, still going at her previous speed, the Verity streaked across our bows. For one brief moment I thought she might clear us, but then came the rending crunch of metal as we ploughed into her port side thirty feet from the stern.
Had I said "Hard-a-starboard" instead of "Hard-a-port" she would probably just have cleared us. Here was the simple problem. If you are converging with someone and appear about to ram him, do you alter course away so as to minimise the blow as I had done, or do you alter course towards in the hope that you will pass behind him? If your judgment is wrong on the second course then you cut him in half. But in this case we might have cleared. The damage was not dangerous in either ship and, thank goodness, there were no casualties. (1961)
IWA Milepost - Canalling Experiences by Peter J Scott
During forty years of canalling, fewer boaters these days use horn signals to tell others what they intend to do. There's a fair amount of waving of arms, but it's not obvious whether a right arm held out means an oncoming boat is moving to its right or whether it wants me to move to my left. Or whether the oncomng crew should all be looking at that especially-colourful bird-in-a-tree over there...
In descending order of hooting-usefulness:
L - O - N - G
hoot "I am here"
hoot hoot
"Passing on the wrong side" (I'm
keeping left)
hoot hoot hoot "In
reverse" (I've stopped because you are an
idiot)
with all other signals not likely to be understood at
all.
The scene is the 1976 dry summer and I'm steering a seventyfoot narrowboat, taking a wide rightwards sweep on River Weaver, heading towards a ready cassion of the (pre-20yr-closure) Anderton Lift, all starting from left-of-centre of the river. I notice one of those tall three-storey bulidings around the corner. ... Ohh ohh, the building is heading towards us. It's a Large Irish Coaster. I change course towards a high wall on the left bank untill the nastiness is past. Crew scream, general bedlam threatens. Coaster says Hoot Hoot Hoot (with the meaning above). I resume my gentle sweep towards the Lift. It was over in half-a minute but very scary nonetheless. I've rather liked sound signals ever since. (2012)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
At Weybridge, the Wey (a pretty little stream, navigable for small boats up to Guildford, and one which I have always been making up my mind to explore, and never have), the Bourne, and the Basingstoke Canal all enter the Thames together. The lock is just opposite the town, and the first thing that we saw, when we came in view of it, was George’s blazer on one of the lock gates, closer inspection showing that George was inside it.
Montmorency set up a furious barking, I shrieked, Harris roared; George waved his hat, and yelled back. The lock-keeper rushed out with a drag, under the impression that somebody had fallen into the lock, and appeared annoyed at finding that no one had. (1889)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Batter The slope of the chamber walls. On the Derby Canal,
with 90ft between the gates, the width at the bottom was 14ft 6in,
increasing to 15ft at the gates and 15ft 6in in the centre of the
lock. This gave the back wall a 3in curve between the gates.
Bay The area of a lock containing the gates, the upper gates
in the Head Bay, and the lower in the Tail Bay.
Clough
The northern waterway name for a sluice/paddle for filling or
emptying a lock. Pronounced like 'plough' or as
'cloof' depending upon local area. In the Fen
Country is generally used to denote the large shutter closing the
navigation opening of a staunch.
Jack Clough A gate
paddle of any kind.
Paddle or Slacker The sluice
cover or valve which controls the water entering a lock culvert. A
sluice valve, by opening or closing which water can either be allowed
to pass or be retained
Slat a Fen term for a paddle,
for example Slats and Eyes, the eye being the opening closed by the
slat. (2025)
Second Interim Report by Ministry of Transport Committee on Inland Waterways
It is clear that no experiment can be expected to succeed unless
it is on a scale large enough to give scope for adequate management.
Nationalisation of our whole Canal system we put aside as involving
liabilities greater than the nation is prepared to face, but if it
were possible to divide up the various waterways into groups, each
centring round some important traffic route, it appears to us that
the conditions necessary for a successful experiment would be
attained without incurring the risks involved in a national scheme.
On consideration of the principal waterways of the country they seem
naturally to arrange themselves into seven groups or systems, which
may be roughly described as follows:
1. The River Trent and its
connections.
2. The Yorkshire Canals.
3. The Lancashire
Canals.
4. The Canals joining Liverpool with the Midlands.
5. The River Severn with its connections.
6. The River
Thames and its connections with the Midlands and Bristol.
7.
The Birmingham Canal and its connections in the Midlands.
The
policy which we recommend as best suited to the needs and conditions
of the times, contemplates the ultimate fusion of all the waterway
connections in each of these groups into a single ownership, just as
in the Railways Bill six groups of amalgamated railways are proposed.
But whereas the railway position is established with adequate staff,
equipment and capital, that of the waterways is still uncertain and
precarious, and our proposal, therefore, is that a beginning should
be made with one or two only of the groups, selecting those which
present the best prospect of success with the least amount of capital
expenditure. The other groups would be proceeded with if and when
their formation appeared justifiable in the light of the experience
gained. (1921)
The Canal System of England by H Gordon Thompson
That steam haulage is more economical than horse-haulage cannot be doubted, and Mr. Peake, of Walsall, speaking at the Conference on Inland Navigation of 1895, said that he had been sending coal by canal since about 1860 between Cannock Chase and Birmingham, a distance of about 20miles. The canal over which the coal was borne, owned by the London and North-Western Railway Company, had not been improved for fifty years. There were the same small locks, necessitating the use of narrow barges, the same series of locks, and the same heavy expenditure.
Mr. Peake had tried to work a steam tug on the Birmingham Canal from Walsall Wood to Wolverhampton, a length of 16 miles. The haulage cost 8d. per ton with horses, but the steam tug was worked for some twelve to eighteen months at a cost of about 4d. per ton. Although public opinion was not yet ripe for steam haulage, a steam tug could be built for £250, which would draw five barges each containing 150 tons of coal, at a speed, regulated in a narrow canal by the wash of the boats, of 2½ to 2¾ miles per hour.
Other methods of haulage besides horse and steam are in use. The chain and wire rope systems used on the Continent have met with little success on English Canals, no doubt owing to peculiar local circumstances. The wire rope was tried on the Bridgewater Canal, but could not be properly adapted on account of the large number of bends and turns, and the difficulty of working the traffic in opposite directions. (1902)
The Nine Tailors by Dorothy L Sayers
The tide was coming up like a race, and in the froth and flurry of water Wimsey could see the barges flung like battering rams against the piers. "Get out of it, lads, for your lives!" was answered by a rending crash. The transverse beams that carried the footway over the weir, rocking and swaying upon the bulging piers, cracked and parted. The river poured over the tumult to meet the battering force of the tide. The banks of the Thirty-Foot held, but the swollen Wale, receiving the full force of the Upper Waters and the spring tide, gave at every point. At St Paul, the flood was rising and pursuing them. Wimsey's car was submerged to the axles. They fled through the dusk, and behind and on their left, the great silver sheet of water spread and spread.
For fourteen days and nights the Wale River ran backwards in its bed and the floods stood in the land. They lay all about Fenchurch St Stephen, a foot above the railway embankment, so that the trains came through snorting and slowly, sending up a wall of water right and left. St Peter suffered most, its houses being covered to the sills of the upper windows. At St Paul, everything was flooded eight feet deep, except the mound where church and rectory stood.
On the fourteenth day, Wimsey, passing early through the churchyard for a morning swim down the village street, noticed that the level of the water had shrunk by an inch, and returned, waving a handful of laurels from somebody's front garden, as the nearest substitute for an olive-branch. 'The odour,' observed Bunter, gazing out on the twentieth day across the dismal strand of ooze and weed that had once been Fenchurch St Paul, "is intensely disagreeable, My Lord, and I should be inclined to consider it insanitary"."Nonsense, Bunter," said Wimsey. "At Southend you would call it ozone and pay a pound a sniff for it." (January 1934)
Hiistorical Account of the Navigable Rivers Canals and Railways of Great Britain - Grand Junction Canal by Jo Priestley
Packet-boats regularly ply on the canal between London and Uxbridge, for the conveyance of passengers and parcels; and Mr. Pickford has a succession of barges day and night, conveying goods on this canal and those connected with it. Mr. Barnes, Mr. Telford, Mr. Holland, Mr. Jessop, and Mr. Bevan, all of them engineers of first rate abilities, have been consulted and employed on this canal, and the expectation of the original projectors, as far as regards public utility, have been fully realized. The design of making a communication between the Grand Junction and the various docks at London, has been effected by the Regent's Canal, out of which this company have now the privilege of taking the water, which they before were authorized to take from the Thames.
The advantages which the metropolis, and indeed all places on the main line and branches, derive from this grand undertaking, are incalculable. The staple goods of Manchester, Stourbridge, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton; cheese, salt, lime, stone, timber, corn, paper, bricks, &c. &c. are conveyed by it to London, whilst in return, groceries, tallow, cotton, tin, manure, and raw materials for the manufacturing districts, are constantly passing upon it. The immense trade on this concern is briefly stated, by observing that the tonnage amounts to near £160,000 per annum. (1831)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The man who wound it up thinks the whole cause of the muddle rests with the man who is trying to unwind it.
“It was all right when you took it!” he exclaims indignantly. “Why don’t you think what you are doing? You go about things in such a slap-dash style. You’d get a scaffolding pole entangled you would!”
And they feel so angry with one another that they would like to hang each other with the thing. Ten minutes go by, and the first man gives a yell and goes mad, and dances on the rope, and tries to pull it straight by seizing hold of the first piece that comes to his hand and hauling at it. Of course, this only gets it into a tighter tangle than ever. Then the second man climbs out of the boat and comes to help him, and they get in each other’s way, and hinder one another. They both get hold of the same bit of line, and pull at it in opposite directions, and wonder where it is caught.
In the end, they do get it clear, and then turn round and find that the boat has drifted off, and is making straight for the weir. (1889)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Looby Luby Lube A swivelling piece of iron at the top of a
boat's towing mast, sprung to return to a vertical position.
From horseboat days, it is sprung so that the line slips off if the
boat overruns its horse.
Dropper An ornamental piece of
cotton rope that hangs from the looby.
Top Plank(s)
Stout, moveable planks running the length of a boat's hold.
They are, from the fore end: cratch plank, mast plank (these last
often being combined in one these days), back o' mast plank,
middle plank, and stern (or back end) plank. The two mast planks have
rectangular recesses for the towing mast, while the back o'
mast and middle planks have additional pieces fitted to support the
adjoining plank. The stern plank can double as a gang (or shore)
plank if required.
Towing Mast A slightly shorter and
narrower mast, fitted with a looby. It fits inside the main mast and
can be raised for towing or lowered into the main mast for clearance
under very low bridges.
Tumblehome The slope of a cabin
side to provide clearance at bridges and tunnels.
Uprights Notched pieces of wood that fit between the gunnels
and top planks to prevent the latter from bowing or springing under
the weight of a person walking along them.
Water Can A
round tapered metal can with a hinged lid over half of the top and
another lid on the spout. They come in various sizes and are carried
on the cabin top directly in front of the chimney to provide storage
for drinking water.
(2025)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
Next day we embarked rather later than was our usual custom, and paddled on towards Preston, having to traverse a portion of the river Ribble before we reached this town. Nothing very interesting or exciting occurred upon this day, ...
... except for a rather narrow shave we had of getting smashed up by a barge. It happened that one of us was towing, while the other remained in the canoe to steer. Just as we got to a very narrow strip of the canal near the entrance to a lock, we met some barges coming down in tow of a tug, and, as luck would have it, our tow-line fouled a tree stump just at the moment when the tail barge began to swing ominously over towards our bank.
For a moment or two it looked as if the canoe must be crushed like an egg-shell between the bank and the barge, but fortunately at the critical moment an extra strong jerk on the tow-line got it clear, and with a run Jacky whisked the canoe through the narrow streak of open water, and we were safe. (1899)
IWA Milepost - Canalling Experiences by Peter J Scott
In the Spring of 2001, canalling was much disrupted by the Foot and Mouth outbreak, and all but the most urban of canals had been closed. With continuing restrictions on mooring the boat, and much disinfected carpet on towpaths, by the beginning of April the system was beginning to return to normal. The uncertainties had disrupted the plans for opening ceremonies for the restoration of the Huddersfield Narrow Canal. We reached Dukinfield Junction on Monday 9 April 2001, and it was a total suprise to find boats descending the first lock, having returned from the first opening ceremony.
We could therefore use the restored section through Stalybridge, and this was an unmissable opportunity to boat through a superb canal with a good set of gongoozlers still marvelling at the transformation of their bus station, and sight of boats in general. For much of the canal towards Uppermill, we were the first boat, other than workboats, that the local population had seen on the canal, and the reaction was overwhelmingly friendly.
A local-newspaper reporter came to take pictures of us, and I tried a human interest story: we were the first private boat to pass this way from Stalybridge since Robert Aickman in Ailsa Craig in 1948. On that much-recounted trip, one of the crew was Elizabeth Jane Howard, the author, then married to my illustrious namesake Peter Scott, the author and naturalist. Elaine, on the front of Copperkins in a boatwomans' bonnet, was therefore a second Mrs Scott to succeed the earlier Mrs Scott as pioneer boaters along the canal. The reporter smiled and nodded appreciatively. ... But it didn't get into print. Oh well, who would be a Press Officer? (2012)
Hansard: House of Commons speeches by James Morrison MP for Ipswich
Parliament should, when it established companies for the formation of canals, railroads, or such like undertakings, invariably reserve to itself the power to make such periodical revisions of the rates and charges as it may, under the then circumstances, deem expedient ...
The history of existing canals, waterways, etc, affords abundant evidence of the evils to which I have been averting. An original share in the Loughborough Canal, for example, which cost £142/17s/0d is now selling at about £1,250, and yields a dividend of £90 or £100 a year. The fourth part of a Trent and Mersey Canal share, or £50 of the company's stock, is now fetching £600, and yields a dividend of about £30 a year. And there are various other canals in nearly the same situation. (17 May 1836)
IWA Bulletin by Charlie Norman
The river Usk provides water via the Penarth Feeder to supply the Monmouthshire & Brecon Canals, a beautiful canal, currently at risk of closure. The abstraction point on the Usk filters water through a sluice and on to a settling pond, from where the water is moved 1kilometre down to the Mon and Brec as part of a network of feeders where abstraction licences are needed to control the water.
Canals need water for a host of reasons, the most obvious one is locks but on the Mon and Brec there is a fairly short pound at the top and a huge one at the bottom, with leakage and evaporation. Extraction licences have been limited to a daily maximum.Too much water? Flooding and embankment problems, too little and you have a dry bed. We believe even the prospect of this is unacceptable. Without water, cafes, pubs, boat hire companies and restaurants can all suffer. Drought periods mean canals face real risks, and they need water abstracted from elsewhere which is where licence costs and Canal & River Trust come in.
We are still urging the Welsh Government to work with Natural Resources Wales to reconsider water restrictions, not only on the River Usk's ecology but on the canal itself with its diverse ecosystem. Canals must be fully integrated into water management strategies. This goes beyond how they function for canal users and their role as historic infrastructure because they are also critical public assets. It's wrong to think of the river and the canal as inconvenient, separate problems, somehow in environmental competition with each other where water abstraction is concerned. (April 2025)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
I was stroke. I did my best. I feathered some two feet high, and I paused at the end of each stroke to let the blades drip before returning them, and I picked out a smooth bit of water to drop them into again each time. (Bow said, after a while, that he did not feel himself a sufficiently accomplished oarsman to pull with me, but that he would sit still, if I would allow him, and study my stroke. He said it interested him.) But, notwithstanding all this, and try as I would, I could not help an occasional flicker of water from going over those dresses. The girls did not complain, but they huddled up close together, and set their lips firm, and every time a drop touched them, they visibly shrank and shuddered. It was a noble sight to see them suffering thus in silence, but it unnerved me altogether. I am too sensitive. I got wild and fitful in my rowing, and splashed more and more, the harder I tried not to.
I gave it up at last; I said I’d row bow. Bow thought the arrangement would be better too, and we changed places. The ladies gave an involuntary sigh of relief when they saw me go, and quite brightened up for a moment. Poor girls! The man they had got now was a jolly, light-hearted, thick-headed sort of a chap, with about as much sensitiveness in him as there might be in a Newfoundland puppy. He set a good, rollicking, dashing stroke that sent the spray playing all over the boat like a fountain. When he spread more than a pint of water over one of those dresses, he would give a pleasant little laugh. “Oh, it’s of no consequence,” the poor girls would murmur and covertly draw rugs and coats over themselves, and try and protect themselves with their lace parasols. (1889)
The River Runs Uphill by Robert Aickman
Mrs. George Smith was an unusual woman. Sonia Smith had been an actress; pupil of Michel Saint-Denis' London Theatre School. During the war, an appeal had been made for women volunteers to work the narrow boats. Most who responded were women of character, as would be expected: many remained inebriated for long after with the dense canal brew. One became a Duchess; several wrote books about their experiences - and even went on to write other books. They were known as the Idle Women (IW. for Inland Waterways), which is the title of Susan Woolfitt's book about them. Emma Smith's "Maiden's Trip", however ambiguously entitled, is another authority to be consulted - for literature, as well as for lore.
Sonia Smith had been one of their number, and she had gone further than most by marrying a working boatman. George Smith, who belonged to one of the best known families on the Cut, was a blond, curly-haired Adonis; and I am sure he could have strangled the wildest of boars with the barest of hands, had occasion arisen.
For years, Mr. and Mrs. George Smith operated, all by themselves, a pair of working boats, named Cairo and Warwick. In the cabin of the butty, one would come upon the collected works of Dostoievski, not at that time common reading on the waterway, but apt to the fiery character of Sonia Smith. Later, she joined the Association's Council, being plainly well qualified to speak for the working boat community, sometimes too inturned (and too busy) to be articulate in a hostile world. (1986)
Hansard: Westminster Hall speeches by Charlotte Atkins MP for Staffordshire, Moorlands
Based on the funds available to British Waterways, the Government calculated that it would take 15 years to eliminate the [maintenance] backlog. In order to reduce that time frame to seven years, the Government generously allocated an additional £8 million per annum to British Waterways in the 1998 comprehensive spending review.
That forward-looking approach led to a renaissance for our inland waterways. When the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs reviewed the performance of British Waterways between 1999 and 2004, it found that it was successful in many areas and had achieved a step change in the condition, management and reliability of the inland waterways infrastructure. The safety backlog had been eliminated — not the whole backlog, but the safety backlog — and six major restoration schemes had been completed, which cost £177 million and created more than 200 miles of new navigation, together with the associated urban and rural regeneration. That included major new developments, such as the Millennium Link and the famous Falkirk Wheel.
British Waterways raised the profile and public awareness of waterways and realised the potential for educational, leisure, and recreational activities. It fully embraced partnership working and achieved a significant growth in directly earned income — an amazing 30percent in two years — by the market pricing of moorings and licences, and through innovation and the professional management of its property portfolio. (27 March 2007)
IWA Bulletin 8 by Robert Aickman
Mr. G.R. Strauss, Parliamentary Secretary to the Ministry of
Transport, has written to our Chairman as follows:
"You will be pleased to learn that the Great Western
Railway have decided to replace the fixed bridge at Lifford by a
modern type movable bridge."
As Members will be
aware, this decision is the culmination of a campaign upon which the
Association has been engaged for more than a year. It is quite
certainly a matter about which nothing would have been done had we
not come into existence. Without us the attractive, accessible, and
commercially valuable Stratford Canal would, owing to the bridge now
to be removed, have fallen into complete disuse, and would
ultimately, no doubt, have been abandoned. (1947)
IWA Bulletin by Charlie Norman
The Bridgewater Canal breach: our North West Region Chair Sir Robert Atkins penned a formal, assertive, but concerned letter to Peel Holdings, balancing constructive engagement with firm pressure to push for Peel to publish their plans. Nobody doubts the massive scale of the works needed to re-open the canal, and further it is clear that the costs will be extremely high.
While Peel Ports has committed to repair the breach and to re-open the canal, and their stated target date is September 2026, what we have been striving for is more transparency from the canal's owners. They are deep-pocketed and even though they cannot be blamed for the heavy rains that caused the flooding and the subsequent breach on New Year's Day 2025, they are ultimately responsible for the repair. We will continue to engage with them, knowing that they face a tough job, but that the public need to see greater transparency from them. (April 2025)
A Popular History of Sheffield by J Edward Vickers
The canal, called the Sheffield and South Yorkshire Navigation, was built and opened in 1819. The opening ceremony gave the people of Sheffield, Attercliffe and Tinsley a gala day and all the well-known men in the town travelled to Tinsley to join the fleet which was to enter Sheffield. There were eleven vessels altogether, led by one bearing the name Industry and this boat was equipped with a band, guns, flags and bunting. When the fleet arrived at the Sheffield Canal Basin, the event provided an excuse for unbridled feasting and speech-making. There were dinners in all the taverns in the town, the principal one being at the Tontine Inn, where the Earls of Surrey and Fitzwilliam led the gentry in a feast lasting several hours.
For a few years the canal did reasonably well, but it had started too late and soon it had the railway as a competitor. During the First World War the Government took over control of the canal and after the war ended it appeared that there might emerge a better chance of it being restored to some of its former capacity. A large grain-storage building was erected by the millers and money was spent on the canal basin. However, though the canal carried on in a modest way of business, there was not any hope left of any great improvement.
When the canals and railways were nationalised after the Second World War, some people believed that the canal would again be fully utilised, but this was not to be, and the coming of motor transport and motor roads finally sounded the death knell.
Today, though the canal still exists, connecting the centre of Sheffield with the open sea, no barges glide along carrying cargoes of coal, wood and iron. Only in the canal basin is there any sign of life, this being on small pleasure cruisers, some moored and some being built, near the derelict warehouses. (1978)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Where it is really the owners that are to blame, they ought to be shown up. The selfishness of the riparian proprietor grows with every year. If these men had their way they would close the river Thames altogether. They actually do this along the minor tributary streams and in the backwaters. They drive posts into the bed of the stream, and draw chains across from bank to bank, and nail huge notice-boards on every tree. The sight of those notice-boards rouses every evil instinct in my nature. I feel I want to tear each one down, and hammer it over the head of the man who put it up, until I have killed him, and then I would bury him, and put the board up over the grave as a tombstone.
I mentioned these feelings of mine to Harris, and he said he had them worse than that. He said he not only felt he wanted to kill the man who caused the board to be put up, but that he should like to slaughter the whole of his family and all his friends and relations, and then burn down his house. This seemed to me to be going too far, and I said so to Harris; but he answered: “Not a bit of it. Serve ’em all jolly well right, and I’d go and sing comic songs on the ruins."
I was vexed to hear Harris go on in this blood-thirsty strain. We never ought to allow our instincts of justice to degenerate into mere vindictiveness. It was a long while before I could get Harris to take a more Christian view of the subject, but I succeeded at last, and he promised me that he would spare the friends and relations at all events, and would not sing comic songs on the ruins. (1889)
WATERWAYS WORLD - Authority or Conservancy by Robert Aickman
The words speak for themselves. An Authority gives us orders. A Conservancy looks after the property which, as citizens, we are supposed to own.
In the early, and triumphant, days of the waterways campaign, there were three main objectives. The first objective was the retention of the entire waterways system; all out resistance to steadily advancing piecemeal closure, long fostered by disparate standards of management and maintenance. The second objective was the modernization and, where appropriate, enlargement of the system. The third objective was the establishment of a National Waterways Conservancy to look after the waterways as they are.
I wrote the Association's booklet upon the subject. At the heart of the Conservancy lay the ideal of administration by representatives elected or nominated by the many different interests concerned with the subject. I derived this notion from the precedent of the Thames Conservancy, which had converted its river into a model waterway (in the main) from the chaos and ruin achieved by its predecessor, the old Thames Commission. However, the heart of the matter was that the Association pioneered the principle of Do-it-Yourself in the public utility and amenity context. The initiative taken by the waterways campaign, and with which the name of Mr Douglas Barwell will always be particularly linked, has since advanced to Graham Palmer's legion of 2,000, to local recovery groups everywhere, and to the application of the method in other fields of activity throughout the nation.
We believed that administration of the waterways by elected representatives of those with a stake in them was a good thing in itself and it was the only way in which the waterways could be operated in present conditions with reasonable economic decency. I still believe both things. (September 1976)
WATERWAYS WORLD - A Canal Too Far? by L J Boughey
The (1948) Huddersfield Canal voyage had passed into folklore as a brave attempt to keep a waterway open against the wishes of a distant and unimpressed bureaucracy. Robert Aickman acted with the very best of intentions but unwittingly gave the new Docks and Inland Waterways Executive (DIWE) little choice but to denavigate the canal. In 1948, after a hard winter in an area which had suffered greatly in the 1930s depression, it was hardly possible for the DIWE to favour southern visitors on one boat, Chinese dressing gowns, poetry books and all, against the livelihood of several hundred mill workers, or against valuable water sales revenues from an unprofitable asset.
In this case a frontal assault on authority proved the wrong strategy. The DIWE would review waterways between January and July 1949; concluding that a limited number of waterways should be developed, with others maintained for possible pleasure use, and the rest abandoned. Those suggested for pleasure use included the Welsh line of the Shropshire Union and the Kennet & Avon, but not the Huddersfield, since works of destruction had already begun. If there was the thinnest possibility in 1948 that the Huddersfield could have been kept for traffic or pleasure use, the IWA voyage had reduced this. Gentler pressure would lead to the saving of the Welsh Canal and, in the very long term, the Kennet & Avon.
The current reopenings show that the voyagers were visionary about the canal's leisure potential, albeit 30 years early. However, doubts must persist about their correctness at the time of the voyage (November 1990)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Slide A moveable hatch over a cabin or engine room
entrance, often painted with geometric or other motifs such as
hearts.
Snatcher A short, heavy-gauge rope used for
towing among the locks.
Snubber A long heavy-gauge rope
used for towing on long pounds.
Thumb lines Lines used
on the Grand Union system when locking downhill. A light line is
taken from the looby to the handrail of the bottom gate and secured
with a slip hitch. On being pulled backwards the hitch jams but as
soon as the gate is open and the pressure released, the hitch comes
free.
Tiller (1) A curved wooden piece used on horse
boats or butties for steering. When not in use it is either placed on
the cabin top or else inserted upside down in the rams head. In the
latter position it implies that the boats have finished working for
the day, or else are deliberately having a slack, and that one is
welcome to come by them.
Tiller (2) A piece of metal
tube used on a motor boat for steering. Well-found boats will have a
plain or painted one for use in wet weather and a polished brass one
for use at other times. (2025)
THE MOST ROMANTIC LIGHTHOUSE? - interpretation board by Snowgoose Wildlife Trust
American writer Paul Gallico had been fascinated by the idea of Peter Scott, an artist living alone on the lonely marshes in a lighthouse, with his bird collection and sailing boats, especially with the tale of one of Peter's geese called Annabel that had returned each year after migration. In 1941 he wrote The Snow Goose, possibly the most romantic wildlife love story ever written and all in sixty pages. In order for his story hero to sail his small boat to Dunkirk, the book places the lighthouse about eighty miles south in a mythical location.
In 1947 the editions were illustrated by Peter Scott. The lighthouse in the illustrations is East lighthouse on the River Nene and Fritha is a painting of his wife, writer Jane Howard, seen standing in the lighthouse kitchen doorway with the river Nene behind her.
The story has sold in millions around the world and remains in print today but sadly without the illustrations. This is probably because the printing plates wore out after sixteen reprints. It was made into a film with Jenny Agutter and the BBC re-recorded the radio story here at the lighthouse in 2011. Please have a large box of tissues standing-by if reading the story for the first time. (2012)
The Snow Goose by Paul Gallico
The Great Marsh lies on the Essex coast between the village of Chelmbury and the ancient Saxon oyster-fishing hamlet of Wickaeldroth. It is one of the last of the wild places of England, a low, far-reaching expanse of grass and reeds and half-submerged meadowlands ending in the great saltings and mud flats and tidal pools near the restless sea.
At low water the blackened and ruptured stones of the ruins of an abandoned lighthouse show above the surface, with here and there, like buoy markers the top of a sagging fence-post. Once this lighthouse abutted on the sea and was a beacon on the Essex coast. Time shifted land and water, and its usefulness came to an end.
Lately it served again as a human habitation. In it there lived a lonely man. His heart was filled with love for wild and hunted things. He lived and worked there all year round. He was a painter of birds and of nature, who had withdrawn from all human society. (1941)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
A small boat came in sight, towed through the water at a tremendous pace by a powerful barge horse, on which sat a very small boy. Scattered about the boat, in dreamy and reposeful attitudes, lay five fellows, the man who was steering having a particularly restful appearance.
“I should like to see him pull the wrong line,” murmured George, as they passed. And at that precise moment the man did it, and the boat rushed up the bank with a noise like the ripping up of forty thousand linen sheets. Two men, a hamper, and three oars immediately left the boat on the larboard side, and reclined on the bank, and one and a half moments afterwards, two other men disembarked from the starboard, and sat down among boat-hooks and sails and carpet-bags and bottles. The last man went on twenty yards further, and then got out on his head.
This seemed to sort of lighten the boat, and it went on much easier, the small boy shouting at the top of his voice, and urging his steed into a gallop. The fellows sat up and stared at one another. It was some seconds before they realised what had happened to them, but, when they did, they began to shout lustily for the boy to stop. He, however, was too much occupied with the horse to hear them, and we watched them, flying after him, until the distance hid them from view. (1889)
A Bit More Boating by Shirley Ginger
Sutton Bridge and a look at the Wash: we parked the car near the dunes on the edge of Godney Marsh and went for a walk. The tide was out, of course. I could barely see the sea at all. Dodging from tussock to tussock in the direction of France, hair blowing in a wind straight from Siberia, I recalled a story by Paul Gallico called The Snow Goose. My edition was illustrated by Sir Peter Scott, who once lived in a lighthouse visible to the south of where we were.
Tide had turned, as brackish water began to seep between the mounds of sea grass. (1992)
Muddy Waters - Dudley's Dilemma by D H Clacher
All narrowboats love chocolate. They've been carrying the ingredients around the waterways for hundreds of years. Their reward has often been a cargo of precious, golden chocolate coins. These have to be kept very safe so that Ol'OneEye, the pirate narrowboat, doesn't get them.
The coins are made at a secret factory in Birmingham. This is Dudley's favourite place in the whole world, but only the very best narrowboats are allowed to visit. Since his award of the Golden Windlass, he had permission to bring some close friends along, but there were very strict rules about how to get there. (2011)
The Narrowboat Guide by Tony Jones
The Art Of Boating. Basic boating isn't difficult. Each year thousands of hire boaters manage just fine after a quick crash course from the hire company. With just a little practice and a dollop of common sense, most people can enjoy boating without any major headaches. Barring a couple of golden rules about locks and weirs, there's not much else to go badly wrong. Most mishaps are minor bumps, inconveniences or poor boating etiquette, not much of a problem at all in the grand scheme of things. (2016)
Towpath Tale - The BCN Remembered by Arthur Truby
In 1927 came the great June thunderstorm causing floods, damage, and several deaths by drowning, particularly in the Spon Lane area. An even greater catastrophe was narrowly avoided. In Smethwick the Telford line of canal and the main Wolverhampton-Birmingham railway line run parallel for a mile or so with the canal lying some forty feet below railway level in the deep Galton cutting. On the evening of the storm, shortly after a local train had passed, a section of railway embankment loosened by torrential rain was swept into the canal just to the east of the Galton Bridge. The canal was blocked and the railway closed for a long time, and I still have dim memories of cranes and dredgers being used at the spot.
This was not the only time when the main line of the canal had been put out of use by storms. It was similarly affected on the ninth of September 1899 when storm water caused a breach near Barnett's brickworks on the straight and dreary stretch of canal near Dudley Port. (May 1978)
Canals in the Heart of England by Alan Tyers
The Black Country Museum was established in 1975 and the first buildings were constructed on the site in the following year. It has been created around the old Dudley Canal and the entrance to the Dudley Tunnel, which is 3154 yards long, with the Singing Cavern. The entrance to the tunnel is the perfect example of a practical need being answered with a simple civil engineering solution and creating a perfectly balanced piece of architecture, combining a tunnel portal with the need to gain access to the canal from both sides, and illustrates the bricklayers art to perfection. The tunnel is only one boat width and has no towpath, therefore boats originally had to be poled or legged through.
There are three canals in the Dudley area; Dudley Number 1, Dudley Number 2 and the Stourbridge Canal. Dudley Number 1, starts at the Dudley Tunnel and was completed in 1792. Dudley Number 2 was built in 1798 and joins the Number 1 at the junction of Park Head. In 1846 the Dudley Canal Company merged with Birmingham Canal Navigations.
The area got its name from the smoke of thousands of furnaces and chimneys that polluted the air. The coal from the seam below the Black Country was known as the Staffordshire Thick Coal and in some cases was only feet below the surface.
The extraction of vast quantities of this coal led to dramatic subsidence; the branch of Lord Ward's Arm to the limekilns (that date from 1842) was created by the subsistence. Browns Bridge is next to the entrance of the arm, originally half a mile long and joined the Old Main Line from Birmingham to Wolverhampton. Through Browns Bridge to the lifting bridge across Lord Ward's Arm. This bridge, which links the museum's Boatdock and Ironworks, was originally built across the railway transhipment basins at Lloyds Proving House near Factory Junction in Tipton. The deck of the bridge can be raised and lowered with a small hand-winch. Huge weights hanging on chains over the four pulleys balance the weight of the roadway. (2002)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
The invention of the Lock which enabled vessels to be transferred from one water-level to another, is claimed by the Italians, who used it in 1481 on the Brenta, near Padua; but it was not generally known in England until some 80 years later, when it was used on a short length of 3 miles of canal connecting Exeter with the sea. (1957)
Life of Thomas Telford by John Rickman
When Thomas Telford (1757-1835) reviewed the old canal route in Birmingham he complained it was, "little better than a crooked ditch, with scarcely the appearance of a towing path the horses frequently sliding and staggering in the water, the hauling lines sweeping the gravel into canal, and the entanglement at the meeting of boats being incesant”. Every time one boat had to pass another it caused delays and arguments between the boatmen. Telford solved this problem by building large parts of his new canal with a towpath on each side and enough space for the boats to pass each other. This allowed more barges to use the canal with fewer disruptions. The increase in canal traffic was not the only result of Telford's better design.
It was commonly said at Birmingham, in consequence of this improvement, that Mr. Telford ought to have had a public reward for introducing good manners among the boatmen, who formerly seldom passed each other without quarrels and imprecations, arising from the difficulty and delay of passing the towing-line under the inner boat; whereas they now meet and pass in good humour, and with mutual salutations. (1838)
Canal and River Trust interpretation sign Birmingham by Green Recovery Challenge Fund
Hello! I'm Brumbee
I'm a home for solitary
bees and I've been made from wood sourced from trees that
required felling along our canals. My wings are made from recycled
plastic and I've been installed in our Great Community
Orchard. (2024)
Railings, Glascote Bottom Lock by The Bard of Glascote
The Tale of Leaky Lock
Just a note, to let you know, that this here Lock, is very slow.
So take a breath, relax and smile, (you might be waiting here a
while)
The problem is, (or so we're told) is Lock
Thirteen is very old.
Her paddles shot, through wear and tear,
the water pours out here and there.
We've had them
fixed, then fixed again, by some of Waterways finest men.
And
for a while, the Lock works well, until again they leak like hell.
I pray this pause in your sojourn, has made you stop, to think and
learn.
That on the cut there is a pace, that's not for
those who want to race.
So if you're rushing, running
late, this tale of Leaky Lock you'll hate.
If
you've no time to gently float, then why a bloody Narrow
Boat? (c2005)
Cut Both Ways Issue 37 by Lichfield & Hatherton Canals Restoration Trust
The Lichfield Canal Aqueduct is complete and marks the culmination of 15 years of campaigning and nearly 3 years of fund raising to counter the severance threatened by the construction of the new [M6Toll] motorway. We may not have got all that we wanted, or indeed that the public inquiry inspector recommended, but what we have achieved is two major culverts enlarged to navigable size for the Hatherton Canal and an aqueduct for the Lichfield Canal, and on the back of that more funding for engineering, economic and environmental reports on the Hatherton Canal plus some land purchase and, we hope, some advance pre-cast bridge units and finally, a new bridge on the Lichfield Canal. Not bad for a bunch of amateurs!
However, we know that we have still barely scratched the surface of what needs to be done so that the celebrations, whilst deserved and enjoyed, should give no cause for complacency but provide a spur to even greater endeavour in future. (Autumn 2003)
NABO News Issue 6 by River Canal Rescue
Freezing weather & ice If the boat's encased in ice and you're worried about the effects on the hull, take care...breaking the ice can result in more damage than leaving it. The only time ice should be broken is if you need to move, and then with caution. The stress on the hull from a large surface area of ice is huge and at a minimum it will damage the blacking.
Water and heating Freezing temperatures can cause split or fractured pipes which, if left over a gradual period, can lead to complete or partial flooding. An unnoticed pipe split and flooding will almost certainly lead to sinking, which insurers may not cover (not all cover frost damage and a gradual water incursion may not be classed as accidental). If covered, insurers normally insist machinery is winterised according to manufacturers' recommendations. If not available, speak to a qualified engineer.
Taps should be left open so if any water is left in the system and it freezes, there's less pressure on the pipes due to air coming out of the taps.
Lag hot and cold pipes and top up anti-freeze in keel cooling and other sealed heating systems (ie radiators connected to the boiler). This is the single most important thing to do, whether your narrowboat is being used over the winter period or not.
Protecting possessions Remove or put out of sight any alcohol, valuable and electrical items. If you have a secure mooring this might not be such an issue, but if in doubt, take it out. Invest in decent locks, your insurance policy requires this and it's more likely to deter thieves. Close and lock all windows and access points before leaving the vessel and visit regularly. Prevent the theft of external items, such as mushroom vents, solar panels and chimneys, by fixing with extra-strength sealant and invest in security shear nuts. Ask neighbouring boats to call if they have any concerns. (December 2024)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Canals. Dr. Johnson defined a canal as 'any tract or course of water made by art'; in more modern terms, canals may be described as artificial channels filled with water, which may be used for navigation, irrigation, or drainage.
Those designed for navigation may be either 'lateral' canals, which run alongside a river, or 'arterial' canals, which connect two stretches of water across the higher ground between them. Most canals are designed for canal boats; but there are also ship canals, which may be either lateral or arterial, and differ from barge canals only in size.
Irrigation canals were known in Egypt, India, and China long before the Christian era. The Great Canal of China, which ran from Canton to Peking, was built about the year 980 B.G.; it was 50 feet wide and 9 feet deep, and was used extensively for navigation. As there were no locks, boats were run down rapids at some changes in level, and up and down inclined planes at others. The Romans used a movable gate or sluice to retain the water at a higher level, forming chutes down which the vessel slid or floated. (1957)
Book Of The British Countryside by the Automobile Association
A network of nature trails
The water supports an
abundance of insects and other small animals, such as the larvae of
dragonflies and caddisflies, water boatmen and water stick beetles;
also myriads of planktonic water fleas and copepods which feed on
microscopic algae. Among the weeds live hydra, which look like
miniature sea anemones, freshwater shrimps and water lice. Bivalves
are common on the bottom and, around working locks where the water
becomes stirred up, freshwater sponges and moss animals or bryozoans
encrust the walls. Water worms abound in polluted water.
In the deeper water, many plants grow totally submerged. Others, such as the flowers of water milfoil, curled pondweed, hornwort and the very local water violet, can be seen above the surface. One of Britain's rarest aquatic plants, the water fern Azolla filiculoides, floats freely on the Basingstoke Canal. In shallower, muddy water, stalwort abounds. Along the edges grow grasses, rushes and many wild flowers.
Canal tunnels sometimes provide a home for nocturnal bats. Warblers, wagtails and flycatchers nest in the reeds; swallows and house martins find rich feeding on the wing, herons stalk fish and small mammals at the water's edge, and moorhens and mallards dabble for food. (1973)
Between The Tides (foreward) by Philip, Duke of Edinburgh
Morecambe Bay is a very remarkable place. When the sands are exposed at low tide, it looks placid enough, and the same is true when they are covered by the sea - provided the weather is calm. What are not obvious to the naked eye are the quicksands, and the unwary can be taken by surprise by the speed at which the tide comes in.
Looking at the map, it appears that a route across the sands at low water would be a convenient short cut from Silverdale to Ulverston via Flookburgh; the dangers of this route were already recognised in 1536 when the first King's Guide was appointed. Cedric Robinson, the present Queen's Guide, has been guiding people across the Kent Sands for the last forty-five years, and he has some remarkable tales to tell.
Back in 1985, I entrusted myself and my carriage and team of horses to his guidance across the sands, and lived to tell the tale! It was an extraordinary experience, particularly for an ex-sailor. Looking at the dramatic Lake District landscape round about, I kept feeling that I should have been in a boat. (2007)
Brewer's Britain & Ireland by John Ayro and Richard Crofton
Regent's Canal Named in honour of the Prince Regent: a canal in north London, which runs 8.5 miles from Paddington Basin eastwards via Camden Town, Islington and Hackney to Limehouse, where it joins the River Thames. Part of its course passes along the northern edge of Regent’s Park. It was opened in 1820. It forms a branch of the Grand Union Canal.
Grand Union Canal. A name given in 1929 to a system of canals formed by amalgamating the Grand Junction Canal (running from London via Watford towards the Midlands), the Regent’s Canal, and the Warwick and Birmingham, the Warwick and Knapton and the Birmingham and Warwick Junction Canals. In combination, they provide a canal link between London and Birmingham, via Watford, Milton Keynes and Warwick. The Canal divides into two at Bulls Bridge Junction in West London: the Brentford Arm goes southwards and enters the Thames upstream of Brentford; the Paddington Arm continues eastwards, along the Regent's Canal, and ends at Limehouse Basin.
Little Venice Coined apparently in the period between the two world wars, although in the 19th century both Lord Byron and Robert Browning had noted a resemblance to the canal-dominated cityscape of Venice. A small area of West London (W2) around the Grand Union Canal, in the City of Westminster, its leafy limpid charm makes it a haven in this somewhat unprepossessing part of London. Its tone has been moderately artistic and bohemian; musicians and painters such as Lennox Berkeley, Lucien Freud and Feliks Topolsky made it their home, and Lady Diana Cooper was also a resident. (2005)
Adventures of the Hebe by Desmond Stoker
(Wednesday 22nd October 1928) We made for Calveley, where the canal is in close proximity to the railway, we saw the Irish Mail thunder by. Just after dining on a grassy bank on the Wardle Branch, the rain began to patter and we hastily packed the remains and rigged the cover. The weather did not show any sign of clearing up, so we attached two ropes as a towing line and went gaily along down locks and through pounds.
While the Commander was taking a spell at the tow rope there occurred the Great Adventure. To those under the cover the fact that a barge was approaching was quite unknown until the horse drew level with the boat. The animal was then stopped with the intention of letting the Hebe float over the submerged towline. We had nearly crossed it when, suddenly, the horse took fright and started to move, thus tightening the towline. The result was that the line was caught in our rudder, and with startling suddenness the Hebe began to move backwards. About three bargees shoved, the Commander shouted, the Gunner shouted, dogs barked and kittens mewed. The horse stopped and the rope was freed. Had the horse started sooner, or had it not stopped at all, there would indeed have been a catastrophe.
Luckily nothing serious happened and we continued on our way unharmed. The rain was still pouring down when we arrived at Church Minshull where we stopped for the night at the 'Old Badger'. (2011)
Yorkshire Waterways by Peter L Smith
After a few more locks it’s into the river Don for the last time on the journey to Sheffield; a short stretch along the river before the bottom lock of the Tinsley flight is reached, the commencement of the former Sheffield Canal.
There are eleven locks now, the number being reduced by one in 1959 to allow for railway improvements. Crossing over the canal is the impressive double-decked M1 Tinsley viaduct, while on the canal itself is a brick building that once housed a steam pump, replaced in 1918 by a 125hp diesel engine. This is still used to replenish the water of the top pound, which offers little except the back of industrial premises and plenty of floating rubbish, for it is renowned as the worst section of the canal in Yorkshire.
At the terminal basin are several fascinating warehouses, one of which is listed. The basin provides mooring for pleasure craft and two small companies established in recent years cater for the boating enthusiast. They provide a service which includes boat building and hire, welcoming every visitor, while Sheffield in general turns its back to the waterway wishing it did not exist.
The Sheffield and South Yorkshire Navigation has in the past done a great deal to develop trade and industry but now its future is in the balance. As a commercial waterway, its tonnage figures drop annually because of lack of investment which the British Waterways Board tried to generate in the 1960s. (1978)
Water Ways by Christine Richardson
The Grantham Canal is a rare thing: an English waterway of more than moderate length that keeps one character throughout-and that character is quiet rural charm. From the River Trent at Nottingham the canal climbs 140 feet to the summit pound at Grantham, via eighteen locks clustered at both ends of the waterway, In between the two groups of locks, the canal is level for twenty miles, gently curving to keep to the 150ft contour.
The junction with the Trent has survived; the entrance lock to the Grantham Canal is just downstream from Trent Bridge at the side of the Nottingham Forest football ground; it's not so quiet when Forest are playing at home. The lock from the river has survived, but it is not usable and extra gates have been installed and sealed as a precaution against high levels in the Trent flooding back along the canal. The towpath can be walked for a few yards, but the link with the rest of the waterway has been severed by new roads.
On the opposite bank of the Trent is the entrance to the Meadow Lane lock of the Nottingham & Beeston Canal, almost all river craft entering to bypass a weir further up river. For many years working boats crossed the Trent between the two canals - agricultural produce from the Grantham Canal to the rapidly-growing city of Nottingham; in the opposite direction coal from the Erewash valley and the obnoxious nightsoil from Nottingham's earth closets. This malodorous cargo was carried in “sani-boats” and dug into the farming land alongside the Grantham Canal as fertiliser; many fragments of white clay smoking pipes are still found in these fields, the remains of the deposits. There was probably less leisure-walking of the towpath at that time! (1995)
Adventures of the Hebe by Simon Stoker
Brindley's original Harecastle tunnel was 2,880 yards with no towpath and constructed between 1770 and 1777. It turned out to be a bottleneck on the busy line and so a second, 'new', tunnel was built by Telford, completed in 1827 and 2,926 yards in length. An electric tug ran in the second tunnel from 1914 to 1954. Both tunnels suffer from subsidence, and when I first went through as a small boy in about 1960 the old tunnel's southern entrance was very low to the water and the tunnel was abandoned. The water on the Etruria side was bright orange due to the iron oxide being washed into the canal inside the tunnel.
Inside the new tunnel, we hit the remains of its old towpath, which caused a major leak on the front shoulder of our old wooden narrowboat Stoke, which was never dry, and the shoulders and most of the bottom plank were rotten. We never stopped pumping it out. We came out at Kidsgrove with one chine almost out of the water to stop it until repairs could be made. I was left alone at the wharf in Middlewich, while my parents had to get home for a day or so, continually to pump out the leaking boat.
Two old canal hands came along, took us down the next lock into a short pound, drained the whole lot and plonked the boat on the mud. Then they stuffed the rather large hole with oakum and nailed an aluminium patch over it! They never asked for payment. (2011)
Brewer's Britain & Ireland by John Ayro and Richard Crofton
Paddington At the beginning of the 21st century a massive new steel-and-glass office development sprang up to the northwest of the station, West London's answer to Canary Wharf. Paddington Basin, takes its name from the local canal basin, which had to be drained while it was being built. This terminates the Paddington Arm, a major stretch of canal branching off the Grand Union Canal at Bull's Bridge Junction in Hayes.
A wholesome antidote to Paddington's somewhat seedy image is its contribution to children's literature: Paddington Bear. Created by Michael Bond in the late 1950s, the first story was A Bear Called Paddington (1958), he was discovered at Paddington Station by Mr and Mrs Brown, (2005)
Between The Tides by Cedric Robinson
Cedric Robinson will shortly have held the historic office of Queen's Guide to the Kent Sands of Morecambe Bay for forty-five years, a longer period than any of his predecessors. Records of the previous twenty-four guides stretch back to 1536 and the reign of Henry VIII, but none can surely equal Cedric's achievements. He has transformed what was becoming an archaic piece of history into a modern-day recreational institution. From modest beginnings, his cross-Bay walks have become internationally famous with some 400,000 people having now participated under his expert guidance.
The walk, and the vast expanse of Morecambe Bay in all its amazing variety, focuses on many recent developments. Several centre around the Kent estuary, now even more dangerous as a result of changing its course on an increasingly frequent basis. Others involve the consequences of global warming, with dolphins and salmon becoming a regular sight in the Bay. (2007)
Book Of The British Countryside by Automobile Association
A canal's water supply comes mainly from adjacent rivers and streams supplemented by large reservoirs like Rudyard Lake, near Leek, Staffordshire, established in 1797 to supply the Trent and Mersey Canal. The flow of water into canals is only sufficient to maintain the water level. For this reason they take on the character of shallow lakes or ponds rather than that of rivers which they superficially resemble.
Many canals, especially along their disused stretches, are havens for wildlife. By being linked to river systems some canals have allowed freshwater fish-sticklebacks. roach, perch, tench, carp, bream and chub, together with frogs, toads and newts-to spread. Rudd are common on canals where the water is brackish, and the Bridgwater and Taunton Canal is well known for its large eels, which enter the canal from the River Parrett.
If unattended, they become filled with black, foul-smelling sludge and reeds grow across the whole width of a canal By dying down each year and impeding silt-bearing currents reeds can gradually add to the quantity of organic maner eventually allowing the invasion of bramble thickets and trees such as birch, hawthorn, willow and alder. (1973)
Yachting Monthly Confessions by Bette Blayney
'You have checked the chart haven't you?' he asked in a slightly suspicious voice. 'Yes, of course. It shows 13ft depth. Ian checked the echo sounder, which read 13ft, and took the helm. The depth readings started to drop with alarming rapidity. People were running along the clifftop and as lan pointed out, 'Nobody runs to witness good seamanship...but rather to see an idiot pile his boat up on to the rocks.'
The echo sounder now read 3ft6in and we draw 3ft3in. With bated breath we scraped across. Grabbing the chart, Ian pointed to the black line beneath the 13ft. 'It means 13ft above sea level, not below' he said, adding a passing reference to a foolish bovine…
On one of the highest tides of the year I had navigated our boat over a causeway that spends most of the year above water. Had we touched down, we would have been unable to get off for at least three months. (2000)
NABO News Issue 6 by Anne Husar
In September 2024 I met Matthew Symonds C&RT Strategy and Engagement Manager (Boating) face to face to talk about NABO's priorities. Council had decided that top of the list was navigation, as if C&RT got that basic requirement to be reliable for boating, many other aspects would also fall into place. Prompted of course by the dire Boater Satisfaction survey results and, for what I think was the first time for a very long while, C&RT were genuinely interested in what we had to say.
Matthew told us about his commitment to repair all the failed paddles on the system within a year. He'd done a number crunch and had been appalled at how many there were. Tried not to say "Told you so" and that we have been highlighting all the maintenance issues for years. It was very reassuring that at last, the directors at C&RT were responding and recognising that with the system having been allowed to get into the state that it has, action at last needed to be taken.
C&RT's new Plan for Better Boating is the result of this recognition that they have to put in measures to save our beloved canal system before the tipping point is reached. Thank you to all the boaters who filled in that damning survey, please now familiarise yourselves with what this plan is committing C&RT to and let us, as well as C&RT know if they are failing in their pledges. (December 2024)
Plan for Better Boating by Canal and River Trust
Our plan will prioritise things that will improve navigation and
target issues that will make the experience of boaters better. ...
Keeping canals open for boating
1. Our chair, David
Orr CBE, will chair a new boating sub-committee ...
Getting
the basics right You should also see fewer unplanned stoppages.
2. We’ll fix all outstanding broken paddles by spring 2026...
3. We'll target more resources on planned preventative
maintenance...
4. We'll spend more delivering improved
grass-cutting in 2025/26...
5. We’ll update our tree
management standards and programmes to increase tree surveys.
Boater facilities
6. If our water, Elsan or pump-out
boater facilities break, we'll fix them promptly.
7.
We'll review refuse collections at our busiest sites ...
Better communication & customer service
8.
We’ll develop a Boater App to make it easier for boaters to access
the online services
9. We'll improve our stoppage
notices system...
10. We'll improve how we communicate
with boaters. ... (April 2025)
Between The Tides by Cedric Robinson
Death of the Cockle Pickers
On the bitterly cold and
windy night of February 5th 2004, twenty-two Chinese cockle pickers
had been cut off by the fast rising tide in Morecambe Bay and drowned
off Hest Bank. The only information I could give, as Queen's
Guide, was from my own experiences of the area where the tragedy had
happened. Knowing the awesome power of the tides and the cruelty this
Bay can deal out, I was left feeling numb.
Li Hua, a Chinese cockler, had only been in Liverpool for a few days and this was the first time out on the sands of Morecambe Bay. After picking a small bag of cockles, he felt it was too cold and too dark to continue, so he left the cockle beds, his colleagues and friends, and found his way back to the shore alone. A short time later his mobile was called by one of his friends, who said that he was stuck in the sea. Li Hua was a good swimmer and ran to try and rescue him. He swam across the first channel and was trying to swim the second when the waves and the tide became too strong for him to go any further. Desperately trying to save his drowning friend, he became stuck on a sandbank where he was seen by a helicopter and then rescued by lifeboat. His friend, Brother Wen, sadly drowned.
All coastguard officers and teams around Morecambe Bay were called out that night. Police both locally and afar were involved as were other services, ambulance crews and some of the local fishermen. Two Air Sea Rescue helicopters searched for survivors. Tired rescue teams risked their own lives as they searched. All coastguard teams in Morecambe Bay, Walney and Millom received the Rescue Shield for their work that night. (2007)
NABO News Issue 6 by correspondent
When veteran Labour politician John Prescott died recently, there were many reminders of his time in office, including responsibility for the Department of Environment, Transport and the Regions. In 1999, during a trip along London's Regents Canal from King's Cross to Islington, John Prescott said: "For far too long canals have been regarded as a decaying relic of a bygone age. Over the years our waterways have been starved of resources, saddled with debts and unable to develop their full potential. Now BW can start to achieve that potential."
He announced an eighteen per cent rise in the grant to BW, he saw the potential for canals as catalysts for regeneration and made it clear that some of the new money could be spent on strengthening banks and improving locks, in preparation for deals with water suppliers. He was adamant that the unique heritage of the canals was best served by retaining public ownership.
He wished to encourage more leisure use of them, as well as exploiting the possibility of green commuting and freight transport. When he launched his policy document Waterways for Tomorrow, he said "Canals are one of our most important national assets and it's a scandal that for so long they were seen as a liability. Not so long ago they seemed doomed - they were dying of neglect - and in fact in the Sixties a lot of the canal system had become disused, overgrown and derelict, and there was a real danger that large parts of it would close" (December 2024)
Yachting Monthly Confessions by John A Blunt
Blame the ship's cat
Teddy succumbed to the
gentle Pacific swells and brought up his most recent dinner, all over
everything. Debbie, scooped up the unfortunate cat and carried him to
the more stable pontoon. I set about attacking the mess and went
below carrying with me the water hose from the pontoon.
I was busy with the washing down when I heard a loud scream from Debbie and arrived up on deck to find her badly scratched by the still frightened animal. After calming them both down and tending to Deb's wounds, I felt it best to get them both home.
Several hours later, I received a call from the club's berthing master to say that a curious thing had happened to my boat. He had found her with just inches of freeboard, hanging by her lines, and completely full of fresh water. A running hose was also found heading down the companionway. Auxiliary pumps were just handling the water ... (2000)
The Shrewsbury & Newport Canal. The Challenge to Restoration by Peter Worrall
All of our canals have features which are considered to be vital elements in our national heritage, but the gem of gems in terms of canal monuments on the Shrewsbury to Newport route must surely be the cast iron aqueduct at Longdon-upon-Tern. This is the world's oldest cast iron aqueduct which is still in existence. Telford's design was cast at the Ketley works of William Reynolds in 1796 and is perhaps the most famous of the canal's many interesting features. It has been described as an "unhandsome but workmanlike structure".
It stands proudly - but empty of water - in a field and is clearly visible from the main road. Access is possible, and, even from a distance, there is no mistaking its importance. The brick and stone abutments at each end have arches and are still in reasonable condition. Whichever sections of the canal you seek out, do not miss this aqueduct – it is a prize amongst the many interesting features of the canal.
Because of the fact that the canal was built over high and rugged ground and over old coal mines - indeed over coal mines which were still being used - Telford concluded that if you could build a canal here, you could build one anywhere (1991)
Guide to the Medway Navigation by Binny Buckley
Negotiating the Locks
River users with previous
experience of inland navigations will have experience of operating
locks, but for those who are discovering the appeal of inland
waterways for the first time, the following tips are provided. Locks
should always be left with paddles in both sets of gates fully
closed.Make sure you know exactly how to work a lock before you enter
one. Check the following:
• That your boat is completely
inside the lock.
• When going upstream make sure your rudder
cannot catch in the bottom gates.
• When going downstream
make sure that the rear of the boat is not likely to sit on the cill.
• That nobody is standing on the roof or foredeck when entering
a lock; the bump of the boat against the side may throw them in.
• Do not leave lock handles on the spigot of the winding shafts.
Be careful not to trap your fingers in any of the mechanisms.
• Never assume that the previous boat has left the lock mechanisms
correctly.
• In narrow lock cuts, please remember that some
pleasure craft draw up to four feet or more and might not be able to
manoeuvre.
• Obey instructions given by the River-keeper and
stop your engine once the craft is moored in the lock.
•
Remember to loop head and stern warps to the posts. When the water is
rising or falling in the lock, adjust your mooring lines to keep them
fairly taut and make sure your boat does not become caught up as the
lock is emptying.
• Turn off any radio, or other form of
music or noise. (August 1996)
Adventures of the Hebe by Desmond Stoker
(Sunday 3rd August 1930) When we arrived at Great Haywood lock there was a slight contretemps. Where was the Commander's windlass? It was not in the bows, nor yet in the stern. It could not be found under the sail and was not under the floorboards The Commander had used it a mile back at the last lock, so we concluded it must have been left there, and while he went back to look for it the Mate locked the Hebe through. The windlass was an important part of our equipment, for without it the passage of some locks would be impossible. So in spite of the distance to the last lock, and in spite of the hot sun, off went the Commander for his little instrument
He had not gone far when he met with a stroke of good fortune. A canal boat coming through the lock in our wake had seen the windlass and picked it up. They knew it belonged to someone ahead of them and that someone would be coming back for it. (2011)
Yachting Monthly Confessions by Rodney W Fetzer
The skipper would truck no tardiness in his keenness to be on time for the race; he was a popular captain and a good planner but had overdone his crew invitations, so that in the end there were seven of us and berths for only six, so he slept in the back of his Volvo. It was a pitch-black evening and all that could be seen amid the chaos below were pale white faces and sleeping bags. At 0500 we all rose promptly. I slipped on some clothes and leapt ashore for the warmth and safety of the marina facilities.
I returned 15 minutes later to find a black hole in the water where the boat had been safely moored. Unbeknown to me, the skipper left his Volvo and returned to the boat in keen anticipation of a quick start. I had no boat, no friends, no money and only a toothbrush to keep me company. Should I return to London somehow, or should I wait forlornly on the dockside? I chose to wait. Three-quarters of an hour later the boat returned and I was told, not too politely, to make it snappy and get aboard.
They had only noticed I was missing when they'd started up the channel and could not understand why I had not drunk my cup of tea. (2000)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
I remember my brother-in-law going for a short sea trip once, for the benefit of his health. He took a return berth from London to Liverpool; and when he got to Liverpool, the only thing he was anxious about was to sell that return ticket. It was offered round the town at a tremendous reduction, so I am told; and was eventually sold for eighteenpence to a bilious-looking youth who had just been advised by his medical men to go to the sea-side, and take exercise.
“Sea-side!” said my brother-in-law, pressing the ticket affectionately into his hand; “why, you’ll have enough to last you a lifetime; and as for exercise! why, you’ll get more exercise, sitting down on that ship, than you would turning somersaults on dry land.”
He himself—my brother-in-law—came back by train. He said the North-Western Railway was healthy enough for him. (1889)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Side Ponds Largely obsolete today but originally a means of
saving water by diverting half (or even two thirds) of a lock of
water into a reservoir for re-use by uphill boats. The GJC Company
was a great user of these and the first experimental ones devised by
their engineer James Barnes may still be seen at locks 55/56 (Top
& Bottom Side Locks) near Berkhamsted. Modern electric back
pumping now largely obviates the need for these.
Slacker A Paddle on the River Lee.
Staircase
locks Also called Risers, a flight or series of locks so arranged
that the top gate(s) of each lock, except the highest one, also form
the bottom gate(s) of the lock above, such as at Bingley Five-Rise
(L&L), Foxton (GU Leicester Section) or Grindley Brook (SU,
Welsh Canal). Found in numbers on the L&L, east side.
Starting pin A small iron hook set in the masonry on the
offside at the head or tail of a lock. It enables the towing line to
be rigged to provide double purchase to start a horse boat or butty
moving and ensures a straight pull out of the lock.
Check
pin A curved iron hook or pin on the lock side for controlling
boats waiting or entering a lock - mainly on northern waterways. (Not
the same as starting pin.)
(2025)
The Canal System of England by H Gordon Thompson
Experiments in electric towing are being made on the Lee Navigation, a canal about 41 miles in length, running from Hertford through Tottenham, Enfield, and numerous other districts to the Thames. Mr Chas Tween, the Engineer of the Lee Conservancy, is actively interesting himself in the matter, and has kindly supplied us with particulars.
The experiments are to be conducted on M Leond Gerard's system; an electric motor running along a track on the towing path and supplied with current from overhead wires, on the trolley system. One man is required to drive the motor, and the barge which is merely connected by a towrope with the motor would have the usual two hands aboard.
The estimated cost of haulage ranges from 9½d to 12d per barge mile and the speed would be from 2½ to 3 miles per hour. Should it facilitate navigation and cheapen transport to the extent anticipated, this system will doubtless be introduced on most of the canals of this country, as the aggregate saving on the volume of canal traffic would be very large. (1902)
Yachting Monthly Confessions by Mike Peyton
Brake failure
It had all started the previous day;
the snag was, I didn't realise it. We were chugging up
Conyer Creek when there was a solid clunk as the propeller hit
something solid, and the engine stopped. Danny, always the optimist,
turned the key and, to our surprise, the engine started and we were
back in business. On we chugged.
The next day we had a boisterous sail to Whitstable, a fishing harbour seldom used by yachts. As we motored in, the fishermen - and there seemed to be a lot of them - looked up with interest; the tourists - there were even more of them - also stopped to look. In fact we were the centre of attention. The harbourmaster appeared and beckoned; we headed towards him. Timed to a nicety, I gave the engine a touch of reverse ... there was no reverse ... whatever we had clunked the day before had seen to that.
We hit the harbour wall as only a 38ft ferro cement boat with plenty of way on can. The pulpit rose in greeting like a praying mantis to the harbourmaster ... (2000)
The Shrewsbury & Newport Canal. The Challenge to Restoration by Peter Worrall
Howard Street Warehouse is close to the centre of Shrewsbury. There has never been a direct connection between the Shrewsbury & Newport Canal and the River Severn on the east side of the town. Perhaps there might be in the future but, for now, if you find the railway station then right alongside it you will find the warehouse, but it is now called "The Buttermarket" - a bar and nightclub. An adjacent car park is built over what used to be the terminus basin.
If you catch the Manager of the Buttermarket in the right mood he may just show you the loading bays underneath the dance floor. Well worth seeing. (1991)
Adventures of the Hebe by Desmond Stoker
(Saturday 24th August 1929) Two miles short of Harecastle we were about to overtake a barge when their steerer offered us a tow. It was about half past two when we reached Harecastle and went in search of the tugboat man, who we found in his office between the old tunnel and the new. The old tunnel has no towpath and boatmen push their boats through with their feet, a process known as legging.
The tug man was a round, cheerful-looking fellow who gave us a hand lamp and a couple of lengths of wood with which to fend off the Hebe from the walls of the tunnel. Promptly at three o'clock the procession started. In front was a motor barge, and after it came another barge bearing a hundred and fifty accumulators for the motors. Then came eight or nine ordinary barges and last of all the Hebe.
Our rate of progress was not excessive; an hour or so would be taken on the transit. It was a new experience to be towed through the tunnel. The noise of the motor far ahead seemed so distant that one could almost feel the silence. A slight glow came from the boats ahead, silhouetting the shoulders of the steerers. A boat far down the line would occasionally bump and that bump would pass from boat to boat. Sometimes a drip of water could be heard, otherwise there was silence and darkness. Absolutely no motion could be felt and it was only by turning the feeble rays of the hand lamp on the walls that we could see we were sliding along.
At last we heard one of the diesel motor barges ahead kick up a row and knew the exit was near. When the outer world became visible it had taken on a deep orange-yellow tint. At this end of the tunnel fourteen were waiting for the return trip. As the boats left the tunnel the fat round boatman collected the tickets, but we handed in the lamp and thanked him, so he forgot to ask for ours and we kept it. (2011)
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor
motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
(1834)
The Secret Sharer by Joseph Conrad
Let them think what they liked, but I didn't mean to drown myself. I meant to swim till I sank – but that's not the same thing. (August 1910)
Yachting Monthly Confessions by Roger Walsh
A singlehanded yachtsman who had arrived at the same time as us:
'I just love sailing. In fact, my wife left me because I was always away in the boat. I was out one day when a Force 6 suddenly grew into a Force 9 with hardly any warning. By the time I managed to get the main down, I'd lost the jib and had almost been swamped. There was a fair amount of damage to the yacht, but I managed to struggle into the marina. I arrived home well after midnight to find a note from my wife saying that my dinner was in the dustbin, the cat was with her and she'd gone away with my best friend.'
'That's terrible! What did you do?'
'I installed roller-reefing. Now I can take in both the main and the jib very quickly, if I need to. It's ideal for singlehanders. (2000)
Guide to the Medway Navigation by Binny Buckley
Going upstream
Secure the boat in the lock by looping
ropes round the bollards and posts or through the rings provided. Do
not tie.
1. If the lock is full check the paddles in the upper
gates are closed.
2. Open the paddles in the lower gates to
empty the lock.
3. Open the lower gates, enter the lock and
close the paddles.
4. Close the bottom gates behind you and
check the paddles are closed.
5. Open the top paddles to fill
the lock.
6. Open the top gates and take your boat out.
7. Close the top gates behind you and lower the paddles.
Beware
• In narrow locks a boat tends to be drawn to
the upper gate when the lock is filling.
• Do not use a lock
at night, or in the dark, it is only too easy for someone to fall
into the water and not be heard or seen.
• Please take care
and do not fend off with hands, feet or boathook.
• Do not
open fuel tanks or strike matches.
• Never dangle your arms
or legs over the side of the boat, they may get broken or crushed
between the boat and the lock.
• Beware of floating debris
between the boat and the lock.
• Do not let anyone play near
locks, be it running around or jumping over gates etc. It is not
worth the risk of them falling in.
• You should know exactly
what to do if someone falls into the water. If this happens, close
all the paddles immediately and throw a life-buoy. Then consider how
to get them out. (August 1996)
Adventures of the Hebe by Desmond Stoker
(25th August 1929) We returned to find our picturesque wharf occupied by two motor boats and were horrified to see what their owners were doing. With great long rakes they were engaged in uprooting the glorious spread of water lilies which we were so careful not to harm. The Hebe glides over these beautiful plants but does not hurt them, but here was a crowd of vandals tearing them up to make room for their propellers. We looked on more in sorrow than in anger. People, especially people with motor boats, when they hear that Hebe is man-powered suggest it would be better to have a motor fitted, and so be able to go further and be less tired and so on.
The Hebe is about the only rowing and sailing boat on our
canal. There are a score or more of motor boats. Yet if the total
number of trips made by motor boats was found it would be less than
one quarter of the trips made by the Hebe in one season. Only
one motor boat of all this number has been beyond Bosley locks while
the Hebe has been many hundreds of miles beyond them. In the
other direction the canal winds along the charming Goyt valley. The
motor boat owners know nothing of this lovely spot for their craft
always run aground before they get there. As for the Hebe
being more tiring - nonsense! Rowing is splendid exercise and we do
not make it a toil. As for sailing, that is a delightful sport. On
the other hand when a certain motor boat owned by a party of young
men goes out, these young men can usually be seen playing cards as
the boat goes along. With a boat like the Hebe one's
interest is always occupied. We leave you to judge which is the more
pleasurable: the gentle Hebe or that racketing, noisome,
stinking, quivering invention of Satan:
the motor boat. (2011)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Camping out in rainy weather is not pleasant. It is evening. You are wet through, and there is a good two inches of water in the boat, and all the things are damp. You find a place on the banks that is not quite so puddly as other places you have seen, and you land and lug out the tent, and two of you proceed to fix it.
“Ah, the bally idiot!” you hear him mutter to himself; and then comes a savage haul, and away goes your side. You lay down the mallet and start to go round and tell him what you think about the whole business, and, at the same time, he starts round in the same direction to come and explain his views to you. And you follow each other round and round, swearing at one another, until the tent tumbles down in a heap, and leaves you looking at each other across its ruins, when you both indignantly exclaim, in the same breath:
“There you are! what did I tell you?” (1889)
Our Young Folks by Edward Lear
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful
pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the
stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O
lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are! (1870)
Ecclesiastes [1:2] by King James Bible
All the rivers run into the sea;
yet the sea is not full;
unto the place from whence the rivers come,
thither they
return again. (1611)
The Skye Boat Song by William Ross
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward! the
sailors cry;
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Skye.
Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
Ocean's
a royal bed.
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by
your weary head. (c.1782)
The Character of a Trimmer (Preface) by George Savile 1st Marquis of Halifax
The innocent word 'Trimmer' signifies no more than this, that if men are together in a boat, and one part of the company would weigh it down on one side, another would make it lean as much to the contrary. (1684-5)
The Standedge Tunnels by Trevor Ellis
The length of the Canal Tunnel has always been problematic. There is difficulty in using a surveyors chain to produce a straight line measurement in a tunnel which varies from its true line by as much as 26ft.
Outram's original survey - before the canal was built - predicted a length of 5451yd . This was revised to 5477yd when the pilot bore was completed and a direct measurement could be made. It was suggested that 32yd at the western end was then opened out as the Tunnel was enlarged to its full size, resulting in a final length of 5445 yd in the early operating years from 1811 to 1822.
In 1822, the position of the overflow at the Marsden end was moved from east of the cottages, where there was once an aqueduct, to run above the Tunnel entrance, and it is thought that 11yd were added at the Marsden end at this time, bringing the length to 5456yd. Matters then rested until the 1890s and the building of the double-track railway tunnel, which resulted in the present Diggle portal with its date of 1893. It is thought that a further 32yd of Tunnel were first opened out between the original mouth of the Canal Tunnel and level with where the mouth of the new railway tunnel was to be, as the railway would need to cross over the canal. A covered extension of 274yd was then built, resulting in a net addition of 242yd to give a length of 5698yd.
At the time that Ove Arup carried out a survey prior to restoration, they gave the length as 5675yd, which differs by 23yd from the above figure. It is understood that they used a laser measuring system, but how they accounted for the S-bend is not known. Nonetheless, this is currently the accepted figure. (2017)
IWA Waterways 288 by Audrey Smith
The appeal of our waterways is in the slowing down, the switching off, not doing things at the speed of a car, just relaxing doing 3mph rather than zooming down the motorway.
Each canal has its own character and style. If someone blindfolded me and put me on a waterway, I would know where I was when I opened my eyes by the bridge. Each is unique and lovely. I can't believe that something built all that time ago is still standing.
But it might not continue to be if we are not careful. (Summer 2025)
IWA Waterways 288 by Ross Stokes
Better by Barge - A smarter, greener future for freight
IWA Freight Group has authored a new report: Better by
Barge makes a compelling case for shifting freight transport from
congested roads to the country's 5,000 miles of navigable
rivers and canals, helping to cut emissions, improve air quality and
reduce congestion; the report demonstrates how moving freight by
barge offers substantial environmental and economic benefits. A
single freight barge can carry up to 1,500 tonnes, removing the need
for up to 75 HGVs from the roads. This shift could reduce carbon
emissions from freight transport and make urban areas cleaner and
safer by cutting air pollution and traffic accidents. inland
waterways have an essential role to play in the UK's journey
towards a greener future.
There are social and health benefits by reducing HGV traffic in
cities, where high-density populations suffer disproportionately from
poor air quality. To make the most of the UK's inland
waterways, Better by Barge recommends:
• Government
investment to improve capacity and encourage modal shift
•
Support for low-carbon fuels like hydro-treated vegetable oil to aid
the transition to net-zero
• Protection of key freight sites
from redevelopment pressures
• Reintroducing Freight
Facilities Grants in England to help businesses connect to waterways
• Expanding the Mode Shift Revenue Support scheme to make water
freight more cost-competitive
• Investment in training to
build skills in the water freight sector.
With the right policy
support, investment and infrastructure, shifting more freight onto
water is a practical and achievable step in tackling climate change
and congestion. (Summer 2025)
The Standedge Tunnels (foreward) by Timothy West
In the 1970s, Pru and I somehow got involved in the newly-formed Huddersfield Canal Society, and explored the 'Narrow' Canal up to the entrance of the Standedge Tunnel, through the length of which we finally travelled while filming the TV programme Great Canal Journeys about forty years later. (November 2017)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
It was up by Boveney, one rather windy morning. We were pulling down stream, and, as we came round the bend, we noticed a couple of men on the bank. They were looking at each other with as bewildered and helplessly miserable expression as I have ever witnessed on any human countenance before or since, and they held a long tow-line between them. It was clear that something had happened, so we eased up and asked them what was the matter.
“Why, our boat’s gone off!” they replied in an indignant tone. “We just got out to disentangle the tow-line, and when we looked round, it was gone!”
I shall never forget the picture of those two men walking up and down the bank with a tow-line, looking for their boat. And they seemed hurt at what they evidently regarded as a mean and ungrateful act on the part of the boat.
We found the truant for them half a mile further down, held by some rushes, and we brought it back to them. I bet they did not give that boat another chance for a week. (1889)
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous
cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as
emerald.
And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal
sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—
The ice was
all between.
The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises
in a swound! (1834)
Navvies 330 by Mike Palmer
The UK waterways form a vast national infrastructure network. They should not be considered an interest only of a niche sector of boaters, anglers, canalside businesses, etc. They are providing benefits for the whole of the UK nations and, as such, they are relevant to everyone, even the legendary 'man on the Clapham omnibus'.
That is the current campaign - all waterways (whether navigable, in restoration or new) are relevant to the whole of the UK, whether they use them or not, and those waterways are deserving of greater, more consistent support. We should all want a 'National Waterways Network' in the same way we want a 'National Rail Network' for example.
Yes - I miss the good old days when we were best described as fanatics ... but I am much more excited by the concept of our nations' historic waterway network being considered by everyone to be a vital part of the nations' infrastructure. (April-May 2025)
Railway On The Water by Harold Crabtree
The End in Sight
The demise of the coal trade was
apparent in the 1960s, while compartment tonnage continued at around
the half-million-tons mark until 1969. In 1968 compartments carried
6,000 tons of coalite, the first time this product was shipped. By
1971 coal had been completely phased out and cargoes were purely
coke, coalite and other patent fuels. The amount of these products
carried by compartments in 1972 was just 90,535 tons while the Goole
railway hoist and cranes dealt with about 350,000 tons of coal.
Figures were down because of the miners' strike. They built up again afterwards, with over 200,000 tons shipped annually between 1974 and 1976, but then declined to 95,000 tons in 1982. Only 160 compartments and three tugs were used at this time.
In 1985, when there was another miners' strike, only 35,101 tons were carried by compartments, and early in 1986 it was announced their operation would cease. Officially it was because the compartments had reached the end of their useful life. In fact thirteen had been built as recently as 1977, and many others were only twenty years old.
Undoubtedly, with such small tonnages, the system had become uneconomic. Mr W H Breach, the A&C's Traffic Manager, had stated, in 1922, that a minimum of a quarter of a million tons had to be carried each year for the system to cover working costs, and three times that amount to cover all costs. With changes in the use of coal, such tonnages were no longer possible.
The final shipment was made via No.5 Hoist to the 'MV Dimple' which loaded 1,770 metric tons in 65 of the remaining 91 compartments still in service. The final train was hauled by 'Hatfield'. After one hundred and twenty-two years of operation, during which about 55 million tons of coal were carried, Bartholomew's compartment boat system had finally finished. (1993)
Hansard - UK Parliament Written Questions by Emma Hardy, Department for Environment, Food & Rural Affairs
The Government recognises the importance of providing access to the outdoors including blue spaces for people’s health and wellbeing and is working to ensure this is safe and appropriate. This is why we have set out our ambitious manifesto commitments to create nine new national river walks ..., expanding access to the great outdoors. We are currently developing policy to improve access ... to unregulated inland waterways, working closely with other government departments and key stakeholders to reduce barriers preventing people from accessing green and blue spaces.
(Answer to question about recent assessment made of the potential merits of introducing a right to roam for waterways by Olly Glover MP for Didcot and Wantage) (8 April 2025)
Ringing World no 5283 by Jennifer Earis
Invited to be part of an Ancient Sciety Of College Youths band ringing for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Pageant in 2012 on a boat, floating down the Thames, I said 'yes', and contrary to our naive expectations, the Bell Barge was the Ursula Katherine weighing over 250 tonnes and was up to the job of carrying a 9cwt ring of bells to be rung full circle.
Sunday 3rd June 2012 arrived and wasn't excessively windy, but it was just about everything-else that is not ideal when spending the day on a boat. The beautiful conditions of the previous practice-weekend were a distant memory as we all stood shivering and damp on North Greenwich Pier at 8am. The bells, unaffected by the inclement weather were fairly easy to ring. The closure of the Thames Barrier led to calmer conditions than for our practice.
We would be opening the event by ringing the treble on its own at first before bringing in the other bells one by one until we were ringing rounds on the full octave, whilst the Bell Barge was pulling out into the centre of the Thames, ready to lead more than 1000 other boats through the crowds to Tower Bridge.
We rang the bells for the next 2½ hours, ringing long touches of Cambridge, Yorkshire and Bristol after the opening quarter peal had been scored. The quality of the ringing was high throughout, even when the rain started driving down during the final hour of our journey. The reception that the bells and barge received was overwhelming. A highlight was being able to climb a ladder and peer over the side of the boat to see the full extent of the celebration on the banks.
The River Thames. (The Royal Jubilee Bells on the Ursula Katherine) 3 Jun 2012, 1250 Cambridge S Major 1 Richard A Smith 2 Stephen A Coaker 3 Jennifer E Earis 4 Stephen W Penney 5 Fr David A Gibbons 6 David P Macey 7 Dickon R Love (Conductor) 8 David E House The first quarter peal on the bells. Rung to start the Thames Diamond Jubilee Pageant by members of the Ancient Society of College Youths. (27 July 2012)
Hornchurch Grammar School Magazne Vol 6 No 2 by Laurel Keeley
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WATER
The water was a silver
snake, slipping silently
Edged with reeds,
Short
green-blown spears,
Pointing to the sky or bending low to see
themselves
In the other side of the water.
And the liquid
ribbon flowed on,
Great, puffy flusters of clouds,
Nettles,
Great, knarled oaks
Graceful willows
All
caught and suspended
In the other side of the water,
For
the world to see,
A lure for the capture of the world.
I
peered also,
And I was caught.
I saw myself in the other
side of the water;
It had me too. (1968)
Mikron Theatre Company Still Carrying by Mike Lucas
Still carrying, still carrying,
Still carrying on.
All
the boats are leaving now,
It's sad to see them gone.
The working life is hard enough,
On the cut it's
harder still.
There's only one wage on the Union run
With grain for Whitworth's mill.
You can work a man till he nearly drops
And a boat just
keeps right on,
But take from both the working life
And
the reason to live has gone. (1996)
Mikron Theatre Company Comes Of Age by Mike Lucas
I suddenly realised what I wanted to do with my life. Instead of laughing out loud or pouring a pint of water over my head, Sarah agreed - we would take theatre to places where theatre had never been before and we would use a narrowboat as our method of transport and the adjacent canal pubs and village halls as our venues. Little did we realise that twenty one years later there would still be a Mikron Theatre Company and that we would still be taking theatre to non-theatre venues along our wonderful, albeit at times, crumbling, waterways.
Turning a dream into reality is always a major problem and many a dream drowns in the torrents of bureaucratic tangles and unexpected pitfalls. We had started from a position of total ignorance - reading in The Times that some of our waterways were navigable and that there were holiday boats - and then gradually beginning to realise the immense importance of our waterways heritage and its potential both for recreation and commerce. We needed help. I wrote to Robert Aickman. He appeared to be totally discouraging - it had been tried in the 1950's and failed - but Sarah read between the lines and realised he was challenging me to try it. I went to see him - he became a patron and a friend. His early advice and encouragement, along with a few other people like John Dodwell and Bob Shopland, spurred us on. We became determined to make it happen. (Sept 1995)
Sheffield - Emerging City by C. R. Warman
Planning is for people and town planning is much more than building. It is the creation of a total environment brought about by the collective action of everybody. People and their needs change, ideas change and therefore successful planning must endeavour to allow for accommodating the demands of succeeding generations.
The flexibility of the past must be continued in order to meet changing circumstances and economics but planning must be complemented by sensitive construction and the use of space so that our City can be a stimulating place to live in and show that Sheffield is an ever-changing City emerging into a richer future.
Sheffield is not likely to have a ship canal in the fullest sense but it might be feasible to improve the waterway from Rotherham to the Humber so that sea- going barges could cross to Rotterdam and the River Rhine. Rotterdam is the biggest port in the world and the gateway to Europe. Such a trade link would be valuable to Sheffield and to a considerable area in the North and Midlands.
An improved canal from a terminal just outside the City Boundary to Humberside would link up with the highway system of the Sheffield and Rotherham area. (1969)
The Puffer Cookbook by Nick Walker
To avoid seasickness, sit under a tree.
[Inspired, perhaps, by earlier similar thoughts from Admiral Lord
Nelson and from Spike Milligan or, more prosaically, in
(mis-)translation from the Italian, in which albero means
either tree or mast] (2013)
Yorkshire Post Magazine - Proud to be still flying the flag by Catherine Scott
Flags will play a prominent role in the VEDay80 celebrations and Leeds-based firm JW Plant & Co.Ltd is taking part, having been producing flags for 117 years. Town criers across the country will undertake the VE Day Proclamation and specially commissioned flags will be raised. All these flags have been made in Leeds, commissioned by the official pageantmaster for VE Day 80.
For three generations, the skills and expertise needed to establish a manufacturer of quality have been passed down and developed within this successful family business. Its manufacturing process has moved with the times from cut and sewn flags, handpainted flags and then into screen printing and now into digital printing.
They have done flags for Royal pageants and have built up a relationship with the official pageantmaster. This includes flags for past Jubilees and also for King Charles's Coronation and for the funeral of the late Queen.
One of the most momorable events was the Queen's Diamond Jubilee, with the Thames river pageant, all the flags that went on the official boats within the pageant were made by JW. Plant (3 May 2025)
The Puffer Cookbook by Mandy Hamilton & David Hawson
The Song of the Puffermen
The Crinan Canal for me,
I don't like the wild raging sea;
Them big
foamin' breakers Wad gie ye the shakers,
The Crinan
Canal for me. (2013)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Welland Canal. This canal is an important trade link between Canada and the USA. It forms part of the great chain of waterways which stretches for 2,339 miles, through the Great Lakes. The Welland Canal is built across the high ground which separates Lake Ontario from Lake Erie.
It is valuable not only to local traffic: it shortens the journey from Liverpool in England to Duluth or Chicago via Montreal by about 450 miles, and ships can convey cargo direct from Manchester to ports 1,000 miles inside the American continent.
The canal was built in 1829 by the Welland Canal Company. At first it stretched only from Port Dalhousie on Lake Ontario, as far as Port Robinson on Chippewa Creek, and then down to the Niagara river, above the Falls. Since then it has been rebuilt several times, and greatly enlarged and extended. The final canal, completed in 1932, has a depth of 30 feet, and eight locks, each 829 by 84 feet, capable of accommodating all but a very few of the largest ships in the world.
The Welland Canal is ice-bound for nearly 5 months of the year, and it is limited on the north by the shallowness of the canals on the St. Lawrence. The largest lake vessels, however, some of them of 15,000 tons, can enter Lake Ontario from the south, and the canal now carries an annual tonnage of several millions. (1957)
The Puffer Cookbook by Mandy Hamilton & David Hawson
Rachel and I found the Puffer VIC32 in 1975, lying forlorn and derelict, in Whitby Harbour. After many trials and tribulations and a lot of fun we arrived in Crinan on the West Coast of Scotland and were greeted by the locals as if we were long lost friends. The popularity of the Puffers in this part of the world is renowned and we and the seven thousand passengers we have taken on holiday, over the years, have basked in the comfort of this enthusiasm.
Rachel cooked for our myriad volunteers when we were converting the hold, from cargo space to accommodation for twelve people. These unpaid volunteers stayed on some for many years, and continued to work apace on board, mainly due to the good food that Rachel produced. Nothing has changed to this day, we now have many dfferent cooks and many recipes.
We used to employ girls who worked in ski-chalets and needed a summer job. The poor things were exhausted by the end of the summer and couldn't wait to get off the boat. We gradually learnt our lesson and now only employ cooks for no longer than a week at a time, and as a result the love and energy they put into their work shows, as miraculous and glorious meals come out of the tiny galley on board VIC32.
It's easy (he says!) to cook good food, and the secret is fresh ingredients, love and attention. The rest will happen naturally. (2013)
Book Of The British Countryside by the Automobile Association
Waterways in decline
The railways brought cheaper,
faster transport and in a few years the waterways began to decline.
Today (excluding Ireland) there are 1607 miles of navigable canals
and 1645 miles of rivers made navigable by locks and short stretches
of canal. A further 151 miles of canal, built for drainage purposes,
can be used by boats. One can still travel from London to Liverpool
and from Liverpool to Hull on canals.
The bargee's family boat evolved when competition from the railways in the late 1840's forced rate-cutting for canal carriage and lower wages for boatmen, who brought their families on board to save rent. Decorated boats, on which it became the custom to paint patterns of roses and castles, date from the 1870's. (1973)
NABO News Issue 6 by River Canal Rescue
General Winterisation checks
Check lockers, cockpit
and other areas to ensure all drain holes and plugs are clear of
debris, leaves, dirt etc. These areas block easily and in heavy or
prolonged rain, a vessel can take on water, causing corrosion (where
the water's left sitting) or worse, sinking.
Test the bilge pump and if possible, invest in an automatic one - it's more reliable than a manual. An automatic bilge pump immediately responds to water ingress with the float switch dictating when it should pump. Should a leak develop from cooling system, hull or other source (or there's a build-up of rain water), this will keep your vessel safe.
Water in a boat will place it lower in the water, leaving outlets such as those for a shower, sink or air vent, nearer to the water level (leading to catastrophic results!).
Check battery charge levels before leaving the boat and when you return, or before a long journey. Heavy rainfall, leaking stern glands and weed hatch issues can cause water ingress and quickly fill the boat, leading to sinking. Flat batteries at a critical point can be devastating. (December 2024)
The Puffer Cookbook (foreword) by Timothy West
CLANG!
I have been deputed to strike VIC32's
bell to announce dinner is ready: once only as multiple strokes are
taken as an indication of marine catastrophe.
I can think of no more horrifying marine catastrophe than dinner
somehow not being ready. After a day of climbing rocks, tramping
through heather, rowing the dinghy or staying on board to knead
dough, navigate or fire the boiler, twelve voracious passengers and
four crew are eager to sit down to the companionable nightly feast.
Colour photographs of the much-loved little vessel set the scene for
us, so that we can watch the sun setting over the islands, smell the
smoke from the chimney, hear the soft beat of the compound engine,
taste a malt whisky and look forward to a delicious venison
casserole.
Bon voyage, et bon appétit. (2013)
Book Of The British Countryside by the Automobile Association
Canals varied greatly in width, some being only 35 ft wide. The traditional narrow boat was the most practical for journeys involving several different canals, although wider craft were used where possible. Horse-drawn boats survived alongside steam-powered craft, whose large engines limited cargo space. The diesel engine, introduced just before the First World War, finally ousted the horse.
A canal's water supply comes mainly from adjacent rivers and streams supplemented by large reservoirs like Rudyard Lake, near Leek, Staffordshire, established in 1797 to supply the Trent and Mersey Canal. The flow of water into canals is only sufficient to maintain the water level. For this reason they take on the character of shallow lakes or ponds rather than that of rivers which they superficially resemble. (1973)
The Puffer Cookbook by Mandy Hamilton & David Hawson
Prawn Cocktail with Malt Whisky
The West Coast has a
plentiful supply of these two basic ingredients and the Puffer cook
is always prepared to barter one for the other when meeting a local
fisherman. The addition of a small amount of whisky does not
overpower other flavours.
Smoked Mackerel Pâté
What a loss it would be if
mackerel were to go the same way as the herring. Being rich in Omega
3 oil does not bode well for their future. This essential fatty acid
has been shown to reduce the risk of heart attacks in humans, so
making this fish very popular with men of a certain age. By
substituting cream for the crème fraîche you can negate most of the
health-giving properties.
Seaweed Bread
Nearly all types of seaweed are edible,
even bladder wrack; and the uses of kelp are protean, ranging from
giving ice cream and toothpaste a smooth texture to giving a good
head to beer. Sea lettuce is one of the commoner varieties of
seaweed. It can be eaten raw in salads, cooked in soups or used in
bread. (2013)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
It is a curious fact, but nobody ever is sea-sick on land. At sea, you come across plenty of people very bad indeed, whole boat-loads of them; but I never met a man yet, on land, who had ever known at all what it was to be sea-sick. Where the thousands upon thousands of bad sailors that swarm in every ship hide themselves when they are on land is a mystery. (1889)
WATERWAYS No 288 by Waterways Recovery Group
26TH JULY-9TH AUGUST 2025 Summer Camp on the Lichfield
Canal
THE WORK: The camps will be continuing the channel
construction along the section of canal between Tamworth Road and
Gallows Wharf, including steel piling of the banks, excavation of the
channel to final depth and placing a concrete base to keep the
channel watertight.
THE REASON: Planning permission was granted for this section of the canal in 2024 and significant works are underway to extend the in-water section of the Lichfield Canal through to Gallows Wharf. The works are divided into three phases, with the Lichfield & Hatherton Canals Restoration Trust working on phase 1 and the WRG Camps taking place on phase 2. A new road-bridge is also due to be constructed by the local authority in the coming year, removing the last main obstacle to connection on this length.
THE RESTORATION: The Lichfield Canal was constructed in the late 18th century as part of the Wyrley & Essington Canal, with 30 locks over 7 miles connecting the Birmingham Canal Navigations to the Coventry Canal. The Lichfield & Hatherton Canals Restoration Trust is working to restore the Lichfield and Hatherton canals, plus a derelict branch of the Staffordshire & Worcestershire Canal. Together, the two canals will restore northern links into the BCN and bring a wide range of benefits to the local communities. (Summer 2025)
Voyage of the Dondevoy by Ben Newsam
On passing through Sutton Stop again, I found that a mud boat was blocking my way. Fearing that it had been put there purposely to stop navigation, I walked back along the towpath to enquire. There I met an elderly man sitting by the water splitting a log of wood with a hammer and chisel. Instinctively, I knew who it was - Joe Skinner, about whom I had heard and read so much. I stopped and helped him.
Joe Skinner is very well known, having been a working boatman, with his wife Rose, but nowhere do I remember a description of the man himself or his character, most people seem to use him as a walking archive of things past: "Joe Skinner remembers when..." etc., ignoring his amazing personality. He accepted my help with thanks, casting no remarks about my long hair, and advised me to move the mud boat myself. His eyes twinkle, and every now and again he makes a sudden blink as if to say "Listen to me", or to emphasise some point he had just made.
Joe helped me move the mud boat, and I was off on my way "home" to Coventry, grateful for having met the famous Joe Skinner. (More) (Tuesday 5th September 1972)
Three Men In A Boat (Preface) by Jerome K Jerome
The chief beauty of this book lies not so much in its literary style, or in the extent and usefulness of the information it conveys, as in its simple truthfulness. Its pages form the record of events that really happened. All that has been done is to colour them; and, for this, no extra charge has been made. George and Harris and Montmorency are not poetic ideals, but things of flesh and blood—especially George, who weighs about twelve stone. Other works may excel this in depth of thought and knowledge of human nature: other books may rival it in originality and size; but, for hopeless and incurable veracity, nothing yet discovered can surpass it. This, more than all its other charms, will, it is felt, make the volume precious in the eye of the earnest reader; and will lend additional weight to the lesson that the story teaches. (1889)
Waterways For Tomorrow (foreward) by the Deputy Prime Minister the Right Hon John Prescott MP Secretary of State for the Environment Transport and the Regions
Today everyone enjoys the inland waterways. But only 35 years ago the future of the nationalised system hung in the balance. Freight traffic was dying. Pleasure boating was only in its infancy. Few appreciated the system's heritage value. Many canals were falling into decay. Much of the system was under threat of closure.
It is thanks to Barbara Castle that the waterways survived. Alerted to the problem by waterway enthusiasts, she saw the enormous potential the waterways had for recreation and amenity. Her Bill which became the Transport Act 1968 created the structure that enabled the nationalised system to remain more or less intact, and ready to meet the needs of the future....
The White Paper foreshadowing the 1968 Act contained the following prophetic words: "In the waterways this country possesses a priceless asset, an asset whose value will grow as the demand for leisure facilities intensifies. The government now intends the British Waterways Board to have a new and positive role to play in the development of this potential, recognised by statute for the first time. This is in effect a new charter for the waterways." Our aim is to renew this charter for all the country's waterways. We want to ensure that the many benefits and opportunities they provide are fully, imaginatively and adventurously used by all. (June 2000)
Springs Branch by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
A short 770yds but very unusual branch that leaves the Leeds & Liverpool Canal, passes the centre of Skipton and soon finds itself in what is virtually a ravine, overlooked by the castle that towers 100ft above. The branch is navigable by small craft, and makes an nteresting diversion by boat or foot. The towpath continues past the arm, into Skipton Woods.
It was built by the Earl of Thanet, the owner of Skipton Castle, to carry limestone away from his nearby quarry. It was extended by 240yds in 1797 from the water-mill bridge through the deep rock cutting, and 120ft-chutes were constructed at the new terminus to drop the rock into the boats from the horse tramway that was laid from the quarry to the castle. The quarry still flourishes, but the canal and tramway have not been used since 1946. Trains and lorries have replaced them. Now a picturesque backwater the Springs Branch acted for many years as a feeder to the Leeds & Liverpool Canal, taking water from Eller Beck, which runs beside it.
Skipton Castle Skipton. A magnificent Norman castle, with 17thC additions, that dominates Skipton High Street. After a three-year siege during the Civil War, Cromwell's men allowed the restoration of the castle, but ensured that the building could never again be used as a stronghold. The six massive round towers have survived from the 14thC and other notable features are the 50ft-long banqueting hall, a kitchen with roasting and baking hearths, a dungeon and the 'Shell Room', the walls of which are decorated with sea shells. (2000)
Stoppage notifications by Canal & River Trust
December 2015 The Springs Branch of the Leeds &
Liverpool Canal is closed due to a rock fall from Skipton Castle. The
rock fall has blocked the canal spur and the footpath alongside it
and the police have placed temporary barriers at either end of the
affected footpath. Our local team will be visiting the site to
investigate further. The main line of the Leeds & Liverpool
Canal is unaffected by the rock fall and will remain open.
Update 11/01/2016
Our teams have investigated the site.
Some masonry remains in the water and the navigation will be remain
closed until further notice. There is no risk of further rock fall
and the pathway has now been re-opened.
Update
13/01/2017
We continue to liaise with owners of Skipton
Castle regarding the condition of the rock face and to work towards a
suitable resolution. Plans are being developed to ascertain the
requirements of clearing the fallen limestone from the navigation and
further investigations are also being carried out on the geology of
the area to understand the extent and reason for the slip. After
further research and Investigations are complete, Canal &
River Trust will hopefully be in a position to provide further
feedback.
Update 01/05/2025
This section of
navigation remains closed and we are continuing to liaise with
relevant parties to work towards a resolution. The restricted width
means that powered boats will not get past the obstruction, therefore
such crafts should not proceed past the moorings. (May 2025)
Waterways For Tomorrow (foreward) by the Deputy Prime Minister the Right Hon John Prescott MP Secretary of State for the Environment Transport and the Regions
We recognise the waterways heritage value needs conserving. But the waterways are not a museum. Innovative uses such as water transfer and telecommunications are being developed. The waterways contribute to the renaissance of our inner cities; they enhance residential developments; they offer important environmental and educational benefits; and they have continuing scope for transporting freight. Taken together with the ever-growing leisure market our waterways are a sustainable resource that can flourish. The prospects are exciting. (June 2000)
Thames Tideway Guide by Chris Cove-Smith
MAN OVERBOARD
As soon as anyone falls overboard holler
'Man Overboard!!' and swing the stern
AWAY from them. Have the lifebuoy thrown towards their position in
the water (not attached to a line from the boat!) and then manoeuvre
alongside the casualty taking care to face the tide and keep to
leeward of them otherwise you will probably run them down. A bowline
is the best knot to use at the end of a line to assist a casualty to
clamber back on board since it makes a loop which will not slip. It
can also be useful if they are unable to help themselves and have to
be hauled aboard.
ALWAYS INSIST THAT LIFE-JACKETS ARE WORN BY
YOUR CREW AND PASSENGERS. SET AN EXAMPLE - WEAR ONE YOURSELF. (March 1996)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by by Laura Salt et al
Narrow boats are the traditional family boats that are so often seen on the canals of the English Midlands, generally with the husband on the boat with the engine, the wife steering the butty, and the children on the cabin top or playing in the hold when the boat is travelling empty.
Both boats have cabins, and although the living-space is small, everything is very compact and within reach. The cabins are painted in bright colours, with the name of the boat, the owner's name, and the registered number on the outside, for since 1887 all boats used as dwellings have to be registered.
Inside the cabins, on the doors and cupboard panels, are painted the roses and castles, without which the older canal families believe that the boat is sure to be unlucky. The boats, which are now owned by the National Docks and Inland Waterways Executive, have 'British Waterways' on the outside of the cabins in blue and gold. (1957)
Sheffeld's Yesterdays by JP Turley
A tiny toll-bridge collecting-house was situated in Tinsley on the Sheffield Canal towing path. There was a toll here for 140 years, each way by foot ½d, each way by cycle 1d. It became uneconomical to operate, and closed around 1959-60. (1993)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
In former days a grocer would order 30 tons of sugar from Bristol to be delivered to him by boat at one time; he now orders by post, telegraph, or telephone, very much smaller quantities as he wants them, and these smaller quantities are consigned mainly by train, so that there is less for the canal to carry, even where the sugar still goes by water at all.
Speaking generally, the actual traffic on the Kennet and Avon at the western end would not exceed more than about three or four boats a day, and on the higher levels at the eastern end it would not average one a day.
Yet, after walking for some miles along the canal banks at two of its most important points, it was obvious to me that the decline in the traffic could not be attributable to any shortcomings in the canal itself. Not only does the Kennet and Avon deserve to rank as one of the best maintained of any canal in the country, but it still affords all reasonable facilities for such traffic as is available, or seems likely to be offered. Instead of being neglected by the Great Western Railway Company, it is kept in a state of efficiency that could not well be improved upon short of a complete reconstruction, at a very great cost, in the hope of getting an altogether problematical increase of patronage in respect to classes of traffic different from what was contemplated when the canal was originally built. (1906)
Through Canal-Land in a Canadian Canoe by Vincent Hughes
We walked into Milnethorpe, a distance of some three miles, and sought shelter for the night. Early next morning we are out and about and, we get afloat once more, with the sun shining, the birds singing, and a soft wind blowing from the south, making the last part of our trip every respect.
We paddled along past the varied scenery on the banks, dotted here and there with villages and hamlets and occasionally a town. The last day on the canal we made a regular picnic of, landing on the grassy banks when we wanted to rest and eat, and pushing onward again when we were so inclined. In this manner we progressed past Hincaster, Sedgwick, and Natland, and at about three o'clock in the afternoon reached Kendal, where the canal system curiously ends in a sheer wall. (1899)
Thames Tideway Guide by Chris Cove-Smith
Emergencies
ENGINE FAILURE OR PROPELLER JAMMED:
Remember that if your boat is helpless in a fast-running stream it
will be carried quickly along out of control. The set of the tide may
well carry it to the pier of a bridge or towards moored craft or
other obstacles with considerable force.
For this reason you
MUST ANCHOR AT ONCE.
Make sure that the inboard end of your anchor warp or chain is fastened to its cleat or post at all times while on the tideway. Don't waste time looking for the cause of the failure while drifting - you can do that as soon as you have anchored and at your comparative leisure! (March 1996)
Bingley and Shipley by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
The impressive Bingley Five-Rise staircase locks mark the end of the long level pound from Gargrave, and from here to Leeds there are no more views of a sweeping, uncluttered river valley. Just a few hundred yards south of the five locks are the three-rise staircase locks, which bring one steeply down into Bingley. The canal was moved sideways, over a distance of 400yds, in 1994 to allow the construction of a new road.
Offside visitor moorings have been provided adjacent to the Damart mill. The waterway bisects this town, but one can see little of the place from the water. Leaving Bingley, trees lead to Dowley Gap and the two staircase locks. At the foot of the locks the towpath changes sides and the navigation crosses the River Aire via a massive stone aqueduct. Woods escort the canal along to the single Hirst Lock; from here one moves past the big mills at Saltaire and right through Shipley. There is a useful source of logs and coal beside bridge 199. (2000)
Journal and Letters by Samuel Curwen
A VISIT TO THE MINES AT WORSLEY
Arrived at Worsley, passing
athwart the river Irwell, over which the canal runs, being raised on
arches not less than fifty feet in height above that stream. Sent
compliments to Mr Gilbert, the steward, asking the favour of seeing
the duke's underground works, which was granted, and we
stepped into the boat, passing into an archway partly of brick and
partly cut through the stone, of about three and a half feet high; we
received at entering six lighted candles.
This archway, called a funnel, runs into the body of the mountain almost in a direct line three thousand feet, its medium depth beneath the surface about eighty feet; we were half an hour passing that distance. Here begins the first under-ground road to the pits, ascending to the wagon road, so called, about four feet above the water, being a highway for wagons, containing about a ton weight of the form of a mill-hopper, running on wheels, to convey the coals to the boats.
Arrived at the coal mine, which appearing about five feet through the roof, was supported by many posts, the area being about twenty feet square and the height scarce four. A hundred men are daily employed, and each turns out a ton a day; the miners' wages two shillings, and the laborers' about one shilling. (7th June 1777)
On Your Tod by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
It is said that the only man-made feature distinguishable on the earth, when viewed from the moon, is the Great Wall of China. Clearly this must be due to its length rather than its - relatively speaking - minuscule width. For a guard detachment, patrolling some of its more remote lengths, it must have been a singularly lonely and, in some cases, solitary occupation.
The 'Great Wall of Tod' - the name given to the canalside railway retaining wall beyond Library Lock on Rochdale Canal in Todmorden - is unlikely to hold quite such long-standing historical significance. Nor will it become a talking point amongst future lunar cosmonauts. Owing its existence to the less than prosaic function of keeping railway out of t'cut it still remains, nonetheless, one of the wonders of a more local world. Building with (estimated more than 4 million) bricks in this wall in the Calder Valley, rather than the local gritstone, was largely down to the advent of the railway: a phenomenon repeated throughout many other areas of the country. (2000)
The Projected Grand Contour Canal to Connect with Estuaries and Canals in England by J F Pownall
KEEPING THINGS ON THE LEVEL
Through the heart of England
there runs a natural canal line. This is a line so naturally
favourable for canal construction that a canal can follow it easily
for miles at a time whilst remaining throughout at the same level.
The old canal surveyors saw this line.
A canal following this contour would therefore proceed right through the country solely on one level; it also proceeds in direct reaches for long distances at a time. The natural canal line creates the remarkable possibility, never before known, of having a canal go through the length of the country and serve the great industrial areas without any variation from one level. There are very great advantages. The Grand Contour Canal would be uniformly level at 310 feet above sea level to serve London, Bristol, Southampton, Birmingham, Manchester, Leeds and Newcastle. All the existing canals would be branches from it.
The waterway would be large enough to accommodate coastal vessels of a fair size. The Grand Contour Canal would become the primary water distributor of the country. Along the canal there will be formed a special layer in the bed. In this layer pipelines for the transport of commercial liquids and gases would be embedded.
Precisely because it expresses a natural feature, the Contour Canal will lie unobtrusively on the land and will have a characteristic scenery of its own. (1942)
A Silk Purse from a Sow's Ear by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
The Ashton Canal is now a part of the Cheshire Ring, a superb 100-mile cruising circuit which can be comfortably completed in a week. Those with extra energy, or a day or two more, can add in a diversion along the Peak Forest Canal, and their efforts will reap just reward.
The ability to cruise these waterways is due to those who campaigned between 1959 and 1974 to clear and restore canals that had become both an eyesore and a danger. Extensive lobbying resulted in the formation of the Peak Forest Canal Society, and with the staging of the 1966 IWA National Rally at Marple restoration gained momentum. 'Operation Ashton', held over a weekend in September 1968, saw 600 waterway enthusiasts clear more than 2000 tons of rubbish from the canal. Local people were amazed, and began to realise that what had long been regarded as an eyesore and a danger could now become a valuable local amenity.
The corner had been turned.
Following a rally on the Rochdale Canal at Easter 1971, local authorities and the British Waterways Board (as it then was) decided to proceed with full restoration of the Ashton and Peak Forest Canals. We owe a great debt to all those involved. (2000)
Thames Tideway Guide by Chris Cove-Smith
Bridges
Always use the correct navigation arches of
bridges indicated by the fixed orange lights at the crown of the
relevant arch. Diagrams showing which arches should be so lit are
given at the back of the PLA Byelaws booklet. Remember that red discs
or lights in triangular formation at the crown mean that an arch is
closed and no attempt should be made to navigate through it.
A wisp of straw (still!) means that headroom is restricted. Steer clear of abutments and note that in the lower reaches of the river a standing wave can occur at some states of the tide, particularly at Lambeth and London bridges. Small craft approaching a bridge or a bend in the river when going against the tide should give way to vessels approaching with the tide.
Between and including Tower Bridge and Putney Bridge certain arches of each bridge will display by day and by night, on occasions, a high intensity isophase white light (one which is lit and unlit for equal periods) on the upstream and downstream sides of the bridge. This light will be displayed only when it is activated by an electronic keying device operated by the master of a large vessel or by the Thames Navigation Service (PLA) at Woolwich. The light signifies that one or more large vessels is navigating or about to navigate through the arch displaying the signal. When the signal light is displayed small craft MUST keep clear of the arch displaying the signal light and its approaches. (March 1996)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
British Waterways must observe the requirements of the Transport
Act 1968 which divides its waterways into three categories, each with
its own maintenance standard:
Commercial waterways which
must be kept in a condition suitable for use by commercial
freight-carrying vessels;
Cruising waterways which must
be kept in a condition suitable for use by cruising craft, that is
vessels constructed or adapted for the carriage of passengers and
driven by mechanical power; and the
Remainder which
must be dealt with in the most economical manner possible, consistent
in the case of waterways which are retained with the requirements of
public health and the preservation of amenity and safety. (June 2000)
Banal Canal Songs by Eugene van der Hoog
A CANAL SAGA
Now up the cut he darted at three miles an
hour,
His old Lister engine, it was giving him full power,
But as around the curve he went, the sharp end hit a sink,
And Eugenes brand new hat blew off, and landed in the drink.
A mile or two up the cut, a bed-stead he picked up,
Plus a
plastic bag or two which made his prop go stop,
Then a
hire-boat went by and drove him right ashore,
Whilst trying to
refloat himself, his hat blew off once more.
Now on and on he motored, through the driving snow,
With
buckets and tins and bicycles, piling up against his bow,
Supermarket trolleys he picked up by the score,
With the water
it was running so low he thought he was ashore.
Finally he reached the pub, where he was to play.
He was so
exhausted, he didn't know what to say,
But the
landlord he came up to him, and said with a merry grin,
You
were booked to play last night, Eugene. Where have you
'bin'. (1990)
The Cheshire Ring - Then and Now by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
This route has remained one of the most popular cruising circuits for many years now a one-week trip encompassing parts of the Trent & Mersey, the Bridgewater, the Ashton, the Peak Forest and Macclesfield canals, passing through a wide and exciting variety of canalscape. Part of the journey includes a passage through central Manchester, a pleasant experience these days, but it was not always so . . .
The problem used to be timing your passage through the city so that the 'Rochdale Nine' locks were open, and your subsequent overnight mooring was a safe one! Local children preyed upon you as you tackled the Ancoats, Beswick and Clayton flights, leaping across the locks from one side to the other, begging lifts, and 'picking up' anything you might have left lying around... The lock machinery was stiff, water supply uncertain, and the things which fouled your propeller defied description.
It is, thankfully, very different now, and the city passage is attractive, interesting and enjoyable. Just take the usual precautions. (2000)
Self-discovery or Waterways Recovery ? by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
Messing about in the mud has long been the pursuit of little boys (and girls) and is an occupation that some of us have great difficulty in shrugging off, even in later life. Imagine, then, having the opportunity to legitimise this sensory indulgence in the respectable form (in the eyes of some, at least) of canal restoration.
There are still many muddy, overgrown ditches festering in their own private world of decay that were once illustrious watery highways. As the more straightforward canal restorations are successfully accomplished, so the more difficult ones become the targets for the doyens of dirty digging, namely the Waterways Recovery Group.
Formed with the express purpose of resurrecting fallen waterways and familiar to many a boater as the driving force behind the annual National Waterway Festivals, this organisation is able to dig the dirt with the best of them. The Chesterfield Canal is one of many navigations to have benefited from their unstinting ability to mix endeavour with cheerfulness, pleasure with muck and sand with cement. (2000)
The Annals of Kendal by C. Nicholson
KENDAL COMES OF AGE
The date of the new town (Kendal) may
truly be placed here (1819) at the opening of the Lancaster Canal.
This event gave an impulse to the new public spirit of the
inhabitants, and formed a new era in the history of Kendal.
The large warehouses and other buildings at the canal harbour were all erected at this time. The Union Building Society commenced operations about this time; and indeed on every side numerous habitations were super added to the town. In a very short time the town assumed a new and modern appearance so very different that any person having been absent a few years, could scarcely have identified it. (1861)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
A fellow I knew went for a week’s voyage round the coast. The steward asked whether he would pay for each meal as he had it, or arrange beforehand for the whole series. The steward recommended the latter, as it would be cheaper for the whole week at two pounds five. For breakfast there would be fish, followed by a grill. Lunch was at one, and four courses. Dinner at six — soup, fish, entree, joint, poultry, salad, sweets, cheese, and dessert. And a light meat supper at ten. My friend thought he would close on the two-pound-five job (he is a hearty eater), and did so.
Lunch came as they were off Sheerness. He didn’t feel so hungry as he thought he should, and so contented himself with a bit of boiled beef, and some strawberries and cream. During the afternoon, at one time it seemed that he had been eating nothing but boiled beef for weeks, and at other times that he had been living on strawberries and cream for years. Neither the beef nor the strawberries and cream seemed happy, either — seemed discontented like.
At six, they told him dinner was ready. He felt that there was some of that two-pound-five to be worked off, and he held on to ropes and things and went down. A pleasant odour of onions and hot ham, mingled with fried fish and greens, greeted him at the bottom of the ladder; and then the steward, with an oily smile, said: “What can I get you, sir?” “Get me out of this” was the feeble reply. And they ran him up quick, and propped him up, over to leeward, and left him.
For the next four days he lived a simple and blameless life on thin captain’s biscuits (I mean that the biscuits were thin, not the captain) and soda-water; but, towards Saturday, he got uppish, and went in for weak tea and dry toast, and on Monday he was gorging himself on chicken broth. He left the ship on Tuesday, and as it steamed away he gazed after it regretfully. “There she goes, with two pounds’ worth of food that belongs to me, and I haven’t had.” If they had given him another day he thought he could have put it straight. (1889)
Bursting at the Seams by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
It is difficult to conceive whilst cruising quietly around the waterways of Yorkshire that underground lies the biggest coal mining complex in Europe. Only the effects of subsidence remind us of the extensive activity below.
The six mines that comprise the Selby coalfield extract some 11 million tons of coal, providing work for 4000 people. Shafts sunk in the 1960s and 1970s at a cost of £1 billion extend eastwards towards the North Sea at a depth of 700 feet, some seams measuring two or three miles in length. In spite of being the most modern and productive complex in Europe, this high tech operation still chooses to employ the cleanest and most environmentally-friendly mode of transport at one of its collieries - the canal.
In 1996 Kellingly Colliery celebrated the transportation of the 35-millionth ton of coal by barge to Ferrybridge power station. In fact coal from five of the six pits goes no further than a 15 mile radius to feed the many power stations in the area which in turn supply power to the national grid. (2000)
Nesting birds on boats by Canal & River Trust
Some birds seek nesting spots on boats in busy urban areas where safe sites can be in short supply. If you have nesting birds on your boat, by law you will not be able to move until the chicks have left. There are ducks, coots, moorhens, geese and swans aplenty on our canals and rivers. As spring progresses they will all be looking out for the best nesting sites to incubate their eggs. Many ducks, coots and moorhens are more than happy to nest on a boat, especially in urban areas where safe nesting sites can be in short supply.
Bird nests and the law All wild birds are protected but some more than others. Section 1 of the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981 states that it is an offence to intentionally take, damage, or destroy the nest of any wild bird while the nest is in use or being built. This means that it would be illegal to move boats which host occupied nests. Boat owners should wait until the young have left the nest and then employ scaring tactics to prevent further birds from nesting, thus allowing a window of opportunity to move.
When can you move? Water fowl incubate their eggs for around 20-30 days depending on the type of bird and also tend to start nesting around March, earlier than, for example, birds that normally nest on land or in hedges. The important thing is, if you find yourself stuck with a duck, (or a coot or moorhen,) pay attention to, and make a note of what they're doing each day. Once the chicks are swimming in the water, and they've not returned to the nest for a week then its likely safe to move the nest.
If you find an active bird nest on your boat, do not disturb it. The penalty could be an unlimited fine or/and up to six months' imprisonment. (21 May 2025)
Toddbrook Reservoir Independent Review Report by Professor David Balmforth
Following heavy rain, the spillway at Toddbrook Reservoir failed. That rain was well forecast and fell on the 27-29 July closely followed by a more severe event from the 30 July to 1 August 2019. These were rare events, the second of which had an estimated annual probability of about 1%. The resulting flood, however, was very much smaller than the probable maximum flood which the spillway should have been able to accommodate. It had dealt with significant floods in the past without apparent damage.
On the morning of the 1 August 2019, a single slab of the spillway chute collapsed into a large void that had formed underneath, and a brown slurry could be seen discharging from under lower slabs which had also failed and lifted. During the day the void enlarged, and more slabs collapsed, risking the integrity of the dam. A full-scale emergency was declared, and, as a precaution, 1500 people were evacuated from the town of Whaley Bridge.
The reservoir was compliant with the legislation and had had a recent inspection, so the incident was a surprise. Overall, I have determined that the most likely cause of the failure of the auxiliary spillway at Toddbrook Reservoir on the 1 August 2019 was its poor design, exacerbated by intermittent maintenance over the years which would have caused the spillway to deteriorate.
C&RT have remained compliant with the legislation for the entire time they have had responsibility for the reservoir. The EA have not had to issue any enforcement notices. However, both C&RT and the EA have stated that compliance is not the same as safety. This can mean that a reservoir and its Owner can be compliant with the legislation without the reservoir necessarily being safe. This does not appear to be entirely satisfactory and will be investigated further. (10 February 2020)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
It was decided to build The Panama Canal at 85 feet above sea-level and to raise ships at each end by a series of locks. A great dam, the Gatun Dam, was built across the path of the River Chagres to control it and to form a huge, irregularly shaped lake at canal level.
The Canal has three sets of Locks : Gatun, Pedro Miguel, and Miraflores. Each lock is 1,000 feet long, 110 feet wide, and from 47 to 85 feet deep. The gates are of steel, and are very thick and strong. They are hollow and filled with air so that much of their weight can be taken by floating. The inner bottom corner rests on a pivot, and the upper corner is hinged.
They can be opened or closed in 2 minutes, and a lock can be emptied or filled in 15 minutes. On the upper side of each pair of ordinary gates is an emergency gate which can be thrown across the canal in case of accident or when repairs are necessary. Ships do not pass through the locks under their own steam, but are handled by four or six electric locomotives, usually two in front and two behind. Ships take about 7 hours to pass through the whole canal, which is altogether about 50 miles long. (1957)
Missing the Boat by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
What is now called the canal age was the short period from 1760 to 1840 - 80 years during which the population of England and Wales rose from 6½ million to 16 million. In 1760 Josiah Wedgwood founded his pottery works at Etruria, Stoke-on-Trent, and Clive left India. In 1840 the penny post was established.
Ideas for building the Pocklington Canal were first mooted in the 1770s: a public meeting was called, and agreed the canal would be a 'great utility'. In 1813 Lord Fitzwilliam, owner of the River Derwent Navigation, asked George Leather to make a survey, and this finally appeared in 1814. Subscriptions were opened and an Act of Parliament to enable the selling of shares was passed in 1815. Construction work began in August 1816, when it was agreed to 'let by ticket the cutting of the canal', and the 9½ mile route was finally completed in 1818, remarkably at less than the estimated cost.
A mere 29 years after the initial celebrations, it began its inevitable decline in the face of railway competition, slowly falling into disuse. The last commercial traffic used the canal in 1932. (2000)
Thames Tideway Guide by Chris Cove-Smith
Commercial Traffic
Keep clear of all commercial
traffic, as many of the larger working vessels have difficulty in
manoeuvering and stopping. Keep a careful look-out ahead and astern
and take obvious and appropriate action in plenty of time. Watch for
the white isophase lights on bridges below Putney. (The light
signifies that one or more large vessels is navigating or about to
navigate through the arch displaying the signal.)
Wash
A tug running free (without a tow of lighters)
and some passenger craft will generate a considerable wash. Turn into
the wash to take the swell squarely on your bow. During the working
day passenger craft ply between Westminster, Charing Cross, Tower and
Greenwich Piers, and additionally in summer, between Westminster,
Putney, Kew, Richmond and Hampton Court as well as the Thames Barrier
at Woolwich. Keep a sharp look-out for any highspeed craft of the
riverbus type which may call at these and the intermediate piers
shown on the charts. They move faster than the traditional tripping
boats and create a larger wash. (March 1996)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
I am fond of locks. They pleasantly break the monotony of the pull. I like sitting in the boat and slowly rising out of the cool depths up into new reaches and fresh views; or sinking down, as it were, out of the world, and then waiting, while the gloomy gates creak, and the narrow strip of day-light between them widens till the fair smiling river lies full before you, and you push your little boat out from its brief prison on to the welcoming waters once again. (1889)
The Puffer Cookbook by Mandy Hamilton & David Hawson
Since the days of Para Handy the fleet of Puffers, which plied their trade along the Clyde and through Hebridean waters, have dwindled away. In 1975 the last surviving Clyde Puffer VIC 32 was found derelict in Whitby Harbour. It was lovingly restored and now steams up and down the West Coast of Scotland throughout the summer every year, carrying thousands of passengers on an idyllic cruise through some of the finest scenery on earth.
Part of the experience which has drawn the Puffer enthusiasts back again and again are the delicious meals prepared for them in the tiny galley, which has no electricity but limitless supplies of boiling water, as befits a steam vessel!
Potato and Seaweed Cakes
Ulva lactuca, more
commonly known as sea lettuce, is a delicate sheet-like seaweed with
broad leaves, easily recognisable by its vivid bright green colour.
Smoked Haddock Gratin
A simple but classic fish dish.
Attractive when served in individual ramekins as a starter but just
as delicious as a main course when cooked in one big dish. Smoked
haddock is undoubtedly an unsung hero of Scottish cuisine which
deserves greater popularity. If you get the chance, try the most
delicious of them all: Arbroath smokies. Here, simplicity and taste
combine to produce an art-form of flavour by simply hot-smoking fresh
haddock in barrels Even better when they are eaten fresh, hot and in
one's hands. (2013)
From Preston to Kendal by Waterbus by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
In an age when there is great personal freedom of movement, it is not always easy to imagine that canals, in their time, provided much the same opportunities as buses and trains today. As well as regular waterbus services, special excursions were organised. Indeed as early as 1776 boats carried pleasure seekers from Beeston to the Chester Races, on what is now the Shropshire Union Canal.
Such services were scheduled on the Lancaster Canal until 1849.
Initially a regular daily service operated between Kendal and
Preston, the journey taking fourteen hours, with refreshments being
provided. In 1833, in order to compete with the stage coaches, an
express service was introduced, cutting the journey time to 7 hours
15 minutes, and carrying an incredible 14,000 passengers in the first
six months.
‘For safety, economy and comfort no other mode
of transport could be so eligible'. (2000)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
The difference between the navigation authorities is illustrated by the three largest.
British Waterways is a public corporation which runs its affairs on a commercial basis consistent with its statutory powers and obligations for navigation and the environment; and its objectives agreed by the Government. It is expected to promote the use of its waterways for leisure and recreation, tourism, regeneration, and transport while also conserving their built and natural heritage.
the Environment Agency is primarily an environmental regulatory body which manages its waterways as an integral part of its other water management functions. It has a duty generally to promote the recreational use of waterways and an obligation to operate those for which it is responsible in an efficient and business-like manner.
the Broads Authority manages its waterspace together with surrounding land on national park lines, combining its responsibility for navigation with conservation and recreation. It has a duty to manage the Broads for three specific and equally important purposes - to conserve and enhance the Broads' natural beauty; to promote their enjoyment by the public; and to protect navigation interests. (June 2000)
River Thames: Unauthorised Mooring (Adjournment debate) by Hansard - House of Commons
Monica Harding MP for Esher and Walton (LiberalDemocrat):
There are wrecked vessels, half sunk and rusting, on the banks
opposite Hampton Court Palace, visible to the hundreds of thousands
of tourists who visit. Next door, there are overstay boats which one
constituent described as a “small village”; it is
Dickensian. The overstay boats are almost always unregistered. They
turn up, moor, and then stay for months, sometimes years. In addition
to this impunity, they generate litter and waste. Some boats
apparently operate as Airbnbs. Others have erected fences: they have
fenced off public land on the towpath, put up “Keep out”
and “Private” signs, and intimidated residents. Stretches
of land — our riverbank, enjoyed for centuries by my constituents
— have become no-go areas characterised by drug use and antisocial
behaviour. ...
Emma Hardy The Parliamentary Under-Secretary
of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs
The
[Environment] agency will be strengthening collaboration with
Elmbridge borough council, Surrey police and community partners on
necessary enforcement actions, as well as continuing current
enforcement deployments over the coming months. ... It is certainly
true that the legislative landscape surrounding navigation management
is complex, and that this is a largely historical legacy. With the
changing use of waterways over time, new challenges have emerged in
relation to, for instance, residential mooring, and they should be
taken into account in the shaping of future regulation and planning.
... We as a Government greatly value our inland waterways and the
work that the navigation authorities do to bring so many benefits to
so many people. ... the Environment Agency is determined to ensure
that its approach to enforcement is fair and proportionate, and will
deliver tangible, lasting outcomes where the impact is most acute. (Tuesday 29 April 2025 )
The Tay Bridge Disaster by William McGonagall
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas! I am
very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for
a very long time.
It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky
moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
Oh! ill-fated
Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That
your central girders would not have given way,
At least many
sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with
buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the
stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of
being killed. (1880)
THE HOUSE Troubled Waters – The Many Struggles Of The Canal And River Trust by Alan White
Richard Parry interview
The [movement] rules are not
as clear as they might be [for Continuous Cruisers] and they generate
ill feeling. The [Canal & River] Trust began to explore
changing them via a Transport and Works Act order, and wanted to
understand [that] route … we weren’t terribly clear what we would
do, and paused [the investigation] for a bigger opportunity to review
the rules in a way that is a bit more disarming … We know it’s
not great in 2025, and, for the future, not fit for purpose. Why
don’t we see if we can design something, taking a fresh look, that
is better for us all? [Hence] an announcement in December 2024 of an
independently-led commission which would review the future framework
for boat licensing; the itinerant boating community has created
challenges for the Trust … from an operational, financial and
reputational perspective.
The phrase may be unhelpful, though: we’re not saying the boaters are a challenge. The Trust’s treatment of them represents a reputational challenge … If we have a constant noise about us being nasty characters who are doing these terrible things in the foreground, that is going to … toxify that whole narrative about us as a national charity, trying to do this amazing work with special places and nature and … communities. We understand the cynicism. There’s a lot of mistrust, isn’t there? I’m genuine and all I can say, in all honesty, is I do not know where the commission is going to land. (18 May 2025)
Hansard: Westminster Hall speeches by Michael Fabricant
Last Saturday, I had a pleasant day walking along the Coventry canal and the Trent and Mersey canal, where they intersect at Fradley junction in my constituency of Lichfield. Nothing can be more glorious than sitting outside the Swan, at that intersection, to look at the swans, the geese, the ducks and the narrowboats manoeuvring through the locks.
I had a very different experience on the Chesapeake and Ohio canal
when I went on a narrowboat along the 4 miles in Washington DC where
it is navigable. The rest is derelict. A couple of national park
rangers, whose National Park Service administers the canal, told me
that they were saving all their cash to hire a narrowboat in the UK.
“You guys just don’t know how lucky you are having thousands
of miles of canals. You just don’t realise how loved something is
until it’s gone.” ... We do not want to see any of our canals
close like that example. As Joni Mitchell sang:
“You
don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone … They paved
paradise and put up a parking lot.” (22 November 2022)
Canals in the Heart of England by Alan Tyers
James Brindley, a renowned engineer and surveyor, was elected by the committee of promoters for the Coventry Canal, after the Act of Parliament received the Royal Assent on 29 January 1768. The first sod was cut in Foleshill in May of the same year.
A statue of James Brindley is located in the canal basin in Coventry City Centre. The bronze is over life size and depicts Brindley studying a drawing of bridge No.1 that he designed and built. The sculpture is by Reg Butler RA and marks the beginning of Britain's longest outdoor gallery. There are 39 artworks by 31 artists located along the 5½ miles from Coventry Canal basin to Hawkesbury Junction. (2002)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
They are picturesque little spots, these locks. You meet other boats there, and river gossip is exchanged. The Thames would not be the fairyland it is without its flower-decked locks.
The stout old lock-keeper, or his cheerful-looking wife, or bright-eyed daughter, are pleasant folk to have a passing chat with. Or rather were. The Conservancy of late seems to have constituted itself into a society for the employment of idiots. A good many of the new lock-keepers, especially in the more crowded portions of the river, are excitable, nervous old men, quite unfitted for their post. (1889)
Thames Tideway Guide by Chris Cove-Smith
SOUND SIGNALS ON THE TIDEWAY - PLA Byelaws
• I am altering
course to Starboard
• • I am altering course to Port
• • • My engines are going astern
• • • • • You
are taking insufficient action to avoid me
• • • •
(gap) • I am turning round in the fairway to Starboard
•
• • • (gap) • • I am turning round in the fairway to Port
– – • I wish to overtake on your Starboard side
–
– • • I wish to overtake on your Port side
– • –
• You may overtake me
(l o n g) I am about to enter the
fairway (March 1996)
Stanley Ferry Aqueduct by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
It is a good idea to moor at Stanley Ferry Marina and walk to the road bridge for a full view of this fine structure – a trough suspended from a two-pin cast-iron arch – built on the same principle as the Sydney Harbour Bridge, which it predates by 100 years.
Nearly 7000 tons of Bramley Fall stone and 1000 tons of cast iron were used in its construction. The first boat to pass across it was the James, a schooner of 160 tons drawn by three grey horses, on 8th August 1839. The 700 men who worked on it were fed at the nearby public houses, one of which, The Ship, still stands. Designed by George Leather, the strength of the structure was severely tested when, soon after opening, the largest flood for 20 years caused the river below to actually flow into the trough. The towpath is carried on a separate wooden breakwater designed to protect the aqueduct during such floods. The concrete aqueduct was built in 1981, and the original, by its side, is still in water. (2000)
Canals in the Heart of England by Alan Tyers
Entering Bancroft Gardens basin via the wide river lock means passing under a bridge designed in the form of the split bridges on the Stratford-upon-Avon canal.
This bridge was constructed by men from HM Prison Wormwood Scrubs and HM Prison Birmingham, at the time the canal was leased by The National Trust in the 1960's. Another interesting feature is the angled beam on the lock gates, which is due to the closeness of the bridge to the lock. (2002)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The river — with the sunlight flashing from its dancing wavelets, gilding gold the grey-green beech-trunks, glinting through the dark, cool wood paths, chasing shadows o’er the shallows, flinging diamonds from the mill-wheels, throwing kisses to the lilies, wantoning with the weirs’ white waters, silvering moss-grown walls and bridges, brightening every tiny townlet, making sweet each lane and meadow, lying tangled in the rushes, peeping, laughing, from each inlet, gleaming gay on many a far sail, making soft the air with glory — is a golden fairy stream.
But the river — chill and weary, with the ceaseless rain-drops falling on its brown and sluggish waters, with a sound as of a woman, weeping low in some dark chamber; while the woods, all dark and silent, shrouded in their mists of vapour, stand like ghosts upon the margin; silent ghosts with eyes reproachful, like the ghosts of evil actions, like the ghosts of friends neglected — is a spirit-haunted water through the land of vain regrets.
Sunlight is the life-blood of Nature. Mother Earth looks at us with such dull, soulless eyes, when the sunlight has died away from out of her. It makes us sad to be with her then; she does not seem to know us or to care for us. She is as a widow who has lost the husband she loved, and her children touch her hand, and look up into her eyes, but gain no smile from her. (1889)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
That Birmingham should become a sort of half-way stage on a continuous line of widened canals across country from the Thames to the Mersey is one of the most impracticable of dreams. Even if there were not the question of the prodigious cost that widenings of the Birmingham Canal would involve, there would remain the equally fatal drawback of the elevation of Birmingham and Wolverhampton above sea level. In constructing a broad cross-country canal, linking up the two rivers in question, it would be absolutely necessary to avoid alike Birmingham and the whole of the Black Country. That city and district, therefore, would gain no direct advantage from such a through route.
They would have to be content to send down their commodities in the existing small boats to a lower level, and there, in order to reach the Mersey, connect with either the Shropshire Union Canal or the Trent and Mersey. (1906)
Thames Tideway Guide by Chris Cove-Smith
Passage
Keep with the tide in the centre of the river
or, when clear, the outsides of bends (insides are shallow). This
does not mean, however, that you should approach the right-hand bank
too closely. First, you may run aground if you do; second, craft
going against the flow of the tide may wish to keep nearer one or
other bank where the flow is weaker. Above Wandsworth and in Deptford
and Bow Creeks there is a speed limit through the water of 8 knots
Driftwood hazard
If you do encounter driftwood,
plastic bags, old ropes, etc., you are earnestly requested NOT to
re-consign them to the river but to hold them (if possible) for
deposit in one of the Port of London Authority Driftwood Collection
Lighters, sited at Brentford, Putney, Wandsworth, Waterloo, Cherry
Garden, and Greenwich. These barges are only for flotsam and NOT for
domestic rubbish disposal. (March 1996)
THE HOUSE Troubled Waters – The Many Struggles Of The Canal And River Trust by Alan White
Christina Hemsley interview
We had no clue, which is
probably why we were brave enough to set off. The boat was the
slowest thing ever. She kept breaking down… We spent one night
duct-taped to some river reeds.
It’s a weird thing about boat life, It’s on the water, but it just grounds you differently. You can’t pass on responsibility … If your water tank is empty, you can’t procrastinate or sweet-talk it into filling up. (18 May 2025)
Hansard: Westminster Hall speeches by Michael Fabricant
I recall doing a TV programme on the Coventry canal, and as they were interviewing me a narrowboat approached. I decided to ad lib, being a former broadcaster, and as the narrowboat went by I said, “Where are you from?” I thought they might say Dudley; in fact, they said they were from Tel Aviv and were on a canal holiday.
The canals affect not just the health and welfare of our people, but bring in commercial dollars to the United Kingdom. (22 November 2022)
Breakfast at Potteries by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
Viewed from the wheelbox of a sand-carrying barge, the Romans and their ilk were untidy fellows. Clearly they thought nothing of tossing their rubbish into the river - to make a ford or empty a failed kiln - and might be considered the forerunners of the contemporary litter lout.
A heavily-laden barge lumbers down this river with difficulty, banging the bottom on even the most generous ebb, unsure where she'll finally come to rest to await the next flood tide. History's cast-offs do nothing to help the situation and invariably result in an unscheduled halt, mid-river. Piling stones on the river bed, to form a ford, might have seemed a good idea to the Romans at the time. It is not, however, an opinion widely shared amongst barge skippers of today.
Littleborough doubtless offers plenty to excite the archaeologist with its wealth of antiquity, whilst a short distance upstream, connoisseurs of porcelain can wax lyrical about the decorative output from the 19th-C Torksey Pottery. The common thread lies in the debris ejected into the tideway, making it a sure fire resting place for loaded barges and a regular bed and breakfast stop for their crew, commemorated in the name of the reach. (2000)
Canals in the Heart of England by Alan Tyers
William Whitemore engineered the southern section of the
Stratford-upon-Avon, from Kingswood Junction to Bancroft Gardens
basin, between 1812-1816. It appears to have been built on-the-cheap
during the Napoleonic Wars and includes unusual cost-cutting designs.
Three distinctive cast iron trough aqueducts, now grade II* listed
buildings, are built with the towpath alongside the trough, wide
enough for a 7-foot boat.
Edstone aqueduct is the second
longest aqueduct in the country. It is supported on 14 brick piers
with cast iron beams between each pier. It was built in 1813 and
crosses Salters Lane, a stream and the former Great Western Railway
line from Birmingham Snow Hill to Stratford, as well as a field.
During the canal's period of GWR ownership, it was used as a
water tank for the engines.
Wootten Wawen aqueduct
crosses the busy Birmingham Road, 5 miles north of
Stratford-upon-Avon. Completed in October 1813 it is a scheduled
monument. Similar to Edstone the cast iron water trough stands on 3
brick piers with cast iron beams. A plaque on the Stratford side,
reads:
The Stratford Canal Comp.y erected this aquaduct in
October 1813. Bernard Dewes Esq. Chairman. W. James Esq. Dep.t
Chairman. William Whitmore Engineer.
Yarningale
aqueduct is close to a lock and to one of the distinctive barrel
roofed lock side cottages. Situated in a peaceful rural setting it
crosses a stream. Originally it was built in 1813; a plaque on the
western side commemorates the installation of a new water trough by
the Horsley Iron Company, the world leader of the day in iron
castings, and dated 1834. (2002)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
To those who do contemplate making Oxford their starting-place, I would say, take your own boat—unless, of course, you can take someone else’s without any possible danger of being found out.
The boats that, as a rule, are let for hire on the Thames above Marlow, are very good boats. They are fairly water-tight; and so long as they are handled with care, they rarely come to pieces, or sink. There are places in them to sit down on, and they are complete with all the necessary arrangements — or nearly all — to enable you to row them and steer them. (1889)
Adventures of the Hebe by Desmond Stoker
(Sunday 25th August 1929) As if to make up for the ghastly weather of the day before, the sun was once again shining with all its strength. The grass was greener than ever, the flowers were brighter, and everything was pleasant.
Just as we were preparing to cast off, our friend in the Annie caught us and to conform to standards of decency we let him go by and get into the locks which were all ready for the next boat to go up. After giving him about half an hour's start we again set out and being by far the speedier boat we passed him a couple of miles from Bosley Top Lock. The bargee, however, scores in the matter of speed by not stopping for meals. He may go slowly but he never stops from dawn till dusk. While we were having dinner not far from the Royal Oak he again passed us. He had caught up while we were eating but in the afternoon we again caught up and passed him before Macclesfield. While going through this part of the world we passed another fishing competition. Not many anglers had any luck, and one said as he finished his mid-morning snack, 'Ah! That's the best bite I've had all day’. (2011)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The mildest tempered people, when on land, become violent and blood-thirsty when in a boat. I did a little boating once with a young lady. She was naturally of the sweetest and gentlest disposition imaginable, but on the river it was quite awful to hear her.
“Oh, drat the man!” she would exclaim, when some unfortunate sculler would get in her way; “why don’t he look where he’s going?”
And, “Oh, bother the silly old thing!” she would say indignantly, when the sail would not go up properly. And she would catch hold of it, and shake it quite brutally.
The air of the river has a demoralising effect upon one’s temper, and this it is, I suppose, which causes even barge men to be sometimes rude to one another, and to use language which, no doubt, in their calmer moments they regret. (1889)
TIDAL WATERWAYS by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
The typical steel narrow boat found on the inland waterways system has the sea-going characteristics of a bathtub, which renders it totally unsuitable for all-weather cruising on tidal estuaries.
However, the more adventurous will inevitably wish to add additional ring cruises to the more predictable circuits within the calm havens of inland waterways. Passage is possible in most estuaries if careful consideration is given to the key factors of weather conditions, crew experience, the condition of the boat and its equipment and, perhaps of overriding importance, the need to take expert advice.
Tideways - and especially estuaries - require a different skill and approach to the inland waterways. (2000)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Brindley realized the value of aqueducts which are a special feature of English canals, especially the earlier ones. When he proposed to carry the Bridgewater canal over the River Irwell, near Barton Bridge, some 5 miles west of Manchester, he was laughed at. But in fact the canal is carried in an aqueduct 39 feet above the river and is supported by three semicircular arches. A contemporary reporter wrote of 'the new and surprising sight of vessels sailing aloft in the air, high above the vessels sailing below in the river'. Later the Barton aqueduct was replaced by a movable one in the form of a steel lattice girder swing-bridge, containing a steel trough filled with water. (1957)
General guidance by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
Most inland navigations are managed by BW or the Environment Agency, but there are several other navigation authorities responsible for smaller stretches of canals and rivers. The boater, conditioned perhaps by the uniformity of our national road network, should be sensitive to the need to observe different codes and operating practices.
It is important to be aware that some waterways are only available for navigation today solely because of the care and dedication of a particular restoration body, often using volunteer labour and usually taking several decades to complete the project. This is the reason that, in cruising the national waterways network, additional licence charges are sometimes incurred. (2000)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Between Iffley and Oxford is the most difficult bit of the river I know. You want to be born on that bit of water, to understand it. I have been over it a fairish number of times, but I have never been able to get the hang of it. The man who could row a straight course from Oxford to Iffley ought to be able to live comfortably, under one roof, with his wife, his mother-in-law, his elder sister, and the old servant who was in the family when he was a baby.
First the current drives you on to the right bank, and then on to the left, then it takes you out into the middle, turns you round three times, and carries you up stream again, and always ends by trying to smash you up against a college barge.
Of course, as a consequence of this, we got in the way of a good many other boats, during the mile, and they in ours, and, of course, as a consequence of that, a good deal of bad language occurred. (1889)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
The first canals in Britain were built by the Romans. These were the Caerdike, a canal connecting the Rivers Nene and Witham, and the Foss Dike, which ran from Lincoln to the River Trent. After the Romans left Britain, there was no canal-building of any importance until in the early 18th century some canals, such as the Aire and Calder Navigation, were built. But with the building of the Bridgewater Canal about 1762, the great age of canal-building began. The growth of industry in England in the 18th century found the country unprepared to take full advantage of the increased production of goods, because of the poor state of road transport. The roads were fit for wagons for a few months of the year only, and pack-horses were uneconomical and could not carry very heavy loads.
The success of the earlier canals and the outburst of industrial activity of the age led, at the end of the 18th century, to a canal mania, like the railway mania which followed it. Many canals were built which could not possibly be made to pay, and speculation in canal shares reached fantastic figures. After 1840, when the railways were working fully, almost no more canals were built. Many of the existing ones were taken over by the railways, and in some cases the water was drained from them, and a railway laid down on the same route. The smaller canals in some districts, such as the Shropshire Union and Birmingham Canals Navigation, were amalgamated under railway control. (1957)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
The sections of actual canal routes will convey some idea of the difficulties which faced the original builders of our artificial waterways. The wonder is that, since water has not yet been induced to flow up-hill, canals were ever constructed over such surfaces at all. Most probably the majority of them would not have been attempted if railways had come into vogue half a century earlier than they did.
The whole proposition in regard to canal revival would be changed if only the surfaces in Great Britain were the same as they are, say, between Hamburg and Berlin, where in 230 miles of waterway there are only three locks. Instead of a Great Central Plain, as on the Continent of Europe, we have a Great Central Ridge, extending the greater length of England. In this country there is an average of one lock for every 1¼ mile of navigation. The sum total of the locks on British canals is 2,377. In the 16 miles between Worcester and Tardebigge on the Worcester and Birmingham Canal, there are fifty-eight locks to be passed through by a canal boat going from the Severn to Birmingham. (1906)
General tips by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
• Make safety your prime concern. Keep a close eye on young
children.
• Always take your time, and do not leap about.
• Never open the paddles at one end without ensuring those at
the other are closed.
• Never drop the paddles - always wind
them down.
• Keep to the landward side of the balance beam
when opening and closing gates.
• Never leave your windlass
slotted onto the paddle spindle - it will be dangerous should
anything slip.
• Keep your boat away from the top and bottom
gates to prevent it getting caught on the gate or the lock cill.
• Be wary of fierce top gate paddles, especially in wide locks.
Operate them slowly, and close them if there is any adverse effect.
• Always follow the navigation authority's
instructions, where these are given on notices or by their staff.
• Many a canal holiday has been spoiled by trying to go too far
too fast. Go slowly, don't be too ambitious, and enjoy the
experience. (2000)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
It was a glorious summer’s morning at Hampton Court, and the lock was crowded; and, as is a common practice up the river, a speculative photographer was taking a picture of us all as we lay upon the rising waters.
I did not catch what was going on at first, and was, therefore, extremely surprised at noticing George hurriedly smooth out his trousers, ruffle up his hair, and stick his cap on in a rakish manner at the back of his head, and then, assuming an expression of mingled affability and sadness, sit down in a graceful attitude, and try to hide his feet.
My first idea was that he had suddenly caught sight of some girl he knew, and I looked about to see who it was. Everybody in the lock seemed to have been suddenly struck wooden. They were all standing or sitting about in the most quaint and curious attitudes I have ever seen off a Japanese fan. All the girls were smiling. Oh, they did look so sweet! And all the fellows were frowning, and looking stern and noble. (1889)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
Waterways management
The inland waterways system has
its origins in local initiatives and has never formed a fully
integrated national network. Individual navigation authorities. have
historically managed their waterways in different ways depending on
the nature of the authority and its wider responsibilities. This
fragmented approach has created difficulties for users and has held
back the development of the system as a whole.
In recent years navigation authorities have increasingly accepted that they should discuss common approaches to issues of mutual interest and harmonise their working practices where possible. The Government welcomes this approach. We want to foster partnership among all navigation authorities to promote a higher profile for the waterways, and to provide a higher quality, safe, and more joined-up experience for users. Safety on the inland waterways is important and we want the highest standards to be achieved. (June 2000)
INDUSTRIOUS WOMEN - Waterways by Kate Saffin
Major Orred was appalled that his daughter Angela, who had aristocratic forebears and had been presented at court in 1934, should marry a 'garage mechanic', but he may also have been terrified of losing his daughter - which of course he did, by being so incalcitrant. There was, apparently, no contact between them after a furious row in which Angela was summarily dismissed from the house, although she did maintain some contact with her mother.
She fled to Banbury and joined Tom Rolt on the nearly complete Cressy. They married in July and set off on the journey that resulted in the publication of Narrow Boat and the letter from Robert Aickman that would launch the IWA. (Summer 2025)
THE HOUSE Troubled Waters – The Many Struggles Of The Canal And River Trust by Alan White
In 2009, British Waterways’ government grant was reduced despite campaigners’ claims the grant was already insufficient. Robin Evans, then Chief Executive, advanced a solution that looked like the best of all possible worlds: a vision in which Britain’s inland waterways were run as a charity – while they could still receive a government grant, the system was free to monetise itself and find new revenue streams in much the same way as the National Trust.
And so on 2 July 2012 all of British Waterways’ responsibilities and assets in England and Wales were transferred to a new charity: the Canal & River Trust. The government would provide a 15-year grant, with the current annual grant fixed but, crucially, not increasing with inflation. Any shortfall would, in theory, be made up by C&RT’s various commercial ventures, of which there could be plenty with the canals now at arm’s length from the British state.
Critics of this scheme made a compelling argument about the comparison between C&RT and the National Trust. While the latter has commercial properties, thousands of paying members, and huge amounts of tourist revenues, C&RT had a property portfolio that was costly to maintain and hard to rent out, and huge running repair costs from the ageing infrastructure. A curious beast had been created. C&RT would take over the lion’s share of the inland waterways in England and Wales. No other charity has as its primary responsibility the upkeep of so much critical infrastructure, the failure of which could have catastrophic results. (18 May 2025)
Waterscape by Richard Benyon (Parliamentary Under-Secretary for Natural Environment, Water and Rural Affairs)
The Canal & River Trust will be a national trust for the waterways, maintaining and restoring 2,000 miles of heritage sites, wildlife habitats and open spaces so that we can all enjoy them for generations to come.
Bringing our waterways into the Big Society puts decision-making into the hands of the thousands of people who cherish the waterways near their homes. Our £1 billion investment will get this new charity off to the strongest start possible, and let local communities and volunteers shape the future of our world-famous waterways. (31st Jan 2012)
Kyme Eau by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
This remarkable navigation leaves the Fossdyke & Witham at Chapel Hill, slipping through flood gates and beginning its journey across the flat fenlands, hemmed in by high banks and seeming at times to be impossibly narrow. Turning sharply south the nicely restored Bottom Lock is soon reached, opened in November 1986, standing alone amidst the fields.
After passing Terry Booth Farm the navigation turns to the west and makes a pretty passage through South Kyme, where there is a pub, Kyme Tower and the remains of a priory. Once again the waterway enters open farmland, although those in boats will see only the high grassy banks. There is a brief flurry of interest at Ferry Bridge, where the navigation makes a sharp turn to head towards the present limit of navigation at Cobblers Lock. Those who fancy a challenge can then undertake to walk the remaining unrestored section into Sleaford (beware, the towpath is, in places, blocked), passing what appear to be the disproportionately large and, as yet, unrestored locks. (2000)
South Wales by Tony Cornish & James Plant
In 1722 the writer and traveller Daniel Defoe visited Swansea and described it a very considerable town and has a very good harbour. There is also very great trade for coal which they export to all the ports of Somerset, Devon and Cornwall and also to Ireland itself so that one sometimes sees a hundred sail of ships at a time loading coal here which greatly enriches the country and particularly the town of Swansea.
In 1925 Francis Frith the photographer observed that there were no sails evident any more, but noted the Oil Tanker British Consul, out of London, being shepherded into King's Dock by a Swansea tug.
The New Bridge was built about 1960 and spanning the arterial link of the river Tawe, it is a stark contrast with the little-known antiquity of the area. Much of the city's heritage was obliterated in the 1939-45 war. The modern replacements are spacious, utilitarian but a touch lacking in charm. Swansea's Maritime Quarter has, however, been attractively re-invented and is well worth a lengthy visit. (2002)
Waterways 288 by IWA
IWA was formed in 1946, but it was not until the 1950 Festival of Boats & Arts, Market Harborough, that the campaign to save the inland waterways really became established as a national crusade. The festival was the tipping point of the waterways revival, triggering the mass participation of a volunteering spirit which is still unique in the world.
The 1950 festival was held at Union Wharf, a location chosen as being central to the waterways system and accessible to all shapes and sizes of inland waterways craft. The inspiration for the event came from the very successful Vintage Sports Car Club rallies that had been organised by Tom Rolt, one of the founding members of IWA.
The event received enthusiastic support from the Harborough Council, which committed its full support. The rally developed from being merely a boat rally into a festival of boats and arts with a range of land-based attractions - exhibitions, films, theatre productions - a development inspired by Robert Aickman, the association's co-founder.
The initial aims of the rally were to inspire new members to join, and focus attention on the dire state of the waterways, aims that are still relevant 75 years later. It was a huge success and attracted an estimated 50,000 visitors over the six days to see 120 different craft owned by members, encouraged to travel along the many diverse routes to Market Harborough. A trophy was awarded to recognise the boat coming the longest distance as well as trophies for the best turned-out boat and other achievements. (Summer 2025)
ARTERIES OF INDUSTRY by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
A growing economy demands transport and power. The Romans recognised these needs and built the Caer-dyke, a part of which still survives as the Fossdyke Navigation, to the west of Lincoln. They realised a horse can pull only 2 tons on a good road, but up to 100 tons on a waterway.
Edward the Confessor ordered improvements on the Thames, Severn, Trent and Yorkshire Ouse, and it was about this time that an artificial cut, a revolutionary idea at the time, was made to improve navigation on the Itchen. The development of the 'flash' lock, where a weir was used to build up a head of water which was then released to propel craft over an obstruction, was eventually superseded by the 'pound' lock, still in use today.
But the forerunner of all modern canals, which heralded the start of the Canal Age, was the Bridgewater Canal, built to serve the Duke's mines at Worsley and still in use commercially until the 1970s. (2000)
Thames Byelaws by Port of London Authority
8.1 Where any vessel has, whilst in the Thames:
a) sunk or
is in danger of sinking;
b) been abandoned;
c) become
derelict;
d) been in collision with another vessel, shore
facility, the river embankment, a structure including any part of a
bridge or a berthed or moored vessel or object;
e) been damaged
or caused damage to anything (including a vessel);
f) been or
is on fire or has suffered an explosion;
g) taken the ground or
stranded (not being a vessel which has intentionally taken the
ground);
h) run into, fouled or damaged any light, buoy, beacon
or other aid to navigation;
i) suffered any person falling
overboard except in relation to a recoverable capsize of a sailing
dinghy or a vessel propelled by paddles or oars; or
j) suffered
any other accident normally required to be reported to the Marine
Accident Investigation Branch or the Maritime & Coastguard
Agency, or both.
8.2 A written report must be submitted by the
vessel master to the harbourmaster, as soon as practicable after the
submission of the verbal report, required by byelaw 8.1 above. The
written report must give the full details of the occurrence, in a
form prescribed by the harbourmaster. (2012)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Cill or Sill The beam or frame, usually wooden, laid
at right-angles to the lock chamber against which the gate sits to
make a seal. The mitre frame for double gates is fitted on top of the
main sill, which in this case is level with the wooden lock floor. It
does seem to be called the upper sill, or working sill on the
Chesterfield. The forebay is the stonework/brickwork which forms the
vertical end of the chamber, and on which the sill is erected.
Stop gates answer the same purpose as stop grooves and planks,
but are made in the form of lock gates, and are always kept open
except when required for use. In long canal pounds it is usual for
stop gates to be fitted at intervals, so that in the event of a leak
or burst the escape of water may be confined to that portion of the
pound between the nearest stop gates on either side.
Stop
grooves Vertical grooves, usually provided at the head and tail
of each lock, and in other situations as required, into which stop
planks can be inserted so as to form a temporary dam or stank.
Strapping Post A stout wooden post on a lockside used for
slowing the way of a boat with a line. On some narrow canals the top
gate mitre post is extended for this purpose. Using it also closes
the top gate behind a downhill boat. (2025)
FERTILE RELIEF by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways North West & Pennines
There was once an area of low lying marshland, much of it below sea level and, consequently, thinly populated. The original course of the River Douglas ran close by, joining the sea near Southport. At some point its course was blocked - possibly by giant sand dunes thrown up by a great storm - and it found a new, northern mouth in the Ribble estuary, leaving behind the area known today as Martin Mere. This once extended to 15 square miles but in 1787 Thomas Eccleston of Scarisbrick Hall, with the help of John Gilbert, set about draining it for agricultural use.
Once drained the mere required vast quantities of manure to raise its fertility for crop production. Night soil was shipped-in along the canal from the large conurbations of Liverpool and Wigan and off-loaded at a series of small wharfs, some still visible today. Part of the mere remains undrained, a haven for migrating geese. (2000)
Navvies 324 by Chris Heath
The North Walsham & Dilham Canal, opened in 1826, was an extension of the River Ant (one of the Norfolk Broads rivers), which climbed through six locks to terminate at Antingham Ponds. It was intended as an 'agricultural canal', aimed at taking farm produce out and bringing in coal, but was not a commercial success. The top end above Swafield Locks was abandoned in 1893, the remainder carried some trade until 1934 after which it fell derelict although it was never legally abandoned.
Despite 80 years of dereliction, most of the route survives and much is still in water, only one bridge has been culverted, and the six locks still exist. In 1972 it was said that it would be easy to restore - but it wasn't until 2008 that the North Walsham & Dilham Canal Trust was launched. Since then restoration has included rebuilding of Bacton Wood Lock, as well as work on Ebridge mill pond and the adjacent spillway. (April-May 2024)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Harris had a sad expression on him, so we noticed, when we got into the boat. He gave you the idea of a man who had been through trouble. We asked him if anything had happened, and he said “Swans!”
It seemed we had moored close to a swan’s nest, and, soon after George and I had gone, the female swan came back, and kicked up a row about it. Harris had chivied her off, and she had gone away, and fetched up her old man. Harris said he had had quite a fight with these two swans; but courage and skill had prevailed in the end, and he had defeated them.
Half-an-hour afterwards they returned with eighteen other swans! It must have been a fearful battle, so far as we could understand Harris’s account of it. The swans had tried to drag him and Montmorency out of the boat and drown them; and he had defended himself like a hero for four hours, and had killed the lot, and they had all paddled away to die. “How many swans did you say there were?” asked George. “Thirty-two” replied Harris, sleepily.
“You said eighteen just now,” said George. “No, I didn’t,” grunted Harris; “I said twelve. Think I can’t count?” What were the real facts about these swans we never found out. We questioned Harris on the subject in the morning, and he said, “What swans?” and seemed to think that George and I had been dreaming. (1889)
Foxton's icebreakers - interpretation board by Canal & River Trust
The biggest winter problem for the canals was ice. The winters were colder and most years the canal froze over. If the ice was less than six inches it could be broken by an ice boat. These special boats were originally made from wood, and later from heavy timber, covered with metal sheets to protect them from the sharp ice.
Up to twelve horses would run along the towpath, pulling these icebreakers while fifteen men would rock the boat to make a big wave. This action lifted the ice and cracked it before the boat smashed through it. The man in charge of the horses would blow a whistle every 15 minutes, so that the horses could rest. If the ice-breaking failed then the canal had to be closed to traffic. The Thomas Holt was named after a local engineer who was based at Kilby Bridge. Built narrow, it could cut through the ice more effectively and was easier to rock. This modern lightweight boat dates from the late 1800s. (2012)
Glorious 1974 NAVVIES 324 by Martin Ludgate
Ashton and Peak Forest - the Cheshire Ring This reopening turned into a bit of a long-running saga. Until around 1960 it was possible for boats to make a through journey east-west through the centre of Manchester. From the Bridgewater Canal at its Castlefield Basin terminus to the west of the city centre, the surviving one-mile length of the Rochdale Canal climbed through nine locks (the 'Rochdale Nine') to Ducie Street Basin. Beyond there, the main trans-Pennine length of the Rochdale Canal had been abandoned (with little hope of reopening), but the Ashton Canal turned right and climbed another 18 locks to Dukinfield Junction. Here the Huddersfield Canal (generally regarded as another hopeless case) continued straight ahead, but boats could turn right into the Lower Peak Forest Canal, then cross Marple Aqueduct and climb Marple Locks to join the Upper Peak Forest and Macclesfield canals. From there, the Macclesfield led to the Trent & Mersey, which in turn connected to the Bridgewater, completing a 100-mile circuit - which waterways supporters later dubbed the 'Cheshire Ring'.
However by 1960 the Rochdale Nine, the lower Peak Forest, and particularly the Ashton, were falling into disrepair through lack of use and maintenance since the ending of commercial freight traffic. A campaign cruise involving North Cheshire Cruising Club and the Inland Waterways Association was organised in 1961 to attempt to draw attention to the route and keep it open - but the night before it was due to take place, vandals set fire to a set of bottom lock gates on the Ashton. One boat still got through: it was a small cruiser, and it was bodily dragged out of the water and around the lock, but that was the end as far as through navigation was concerned. (April-May 2024)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Grottoes in the Black Country
The largest network of
urban waterways in Britain is owned by Birmingham Canal Navigations.
Its canals radiate to five main river estuaries. There were once 160
miles of canals. Some stretches have been closed, but more than 100
miles of canal are still navigable.
Although they run through big industrial areas, the canals are remarkably remote, and one can moor in peace and quiet even in the centre of Birmingham. In striking contrast to the industrial sections, there are stretches running through pleasant wooded countryside. Despite the refuse and factory waste dumped into the canals, the water remains relatively pure and there is some good fishing for bream, roach, perch and pike on some stretches.
There are more than 120 locks in the network with several impressive lock flights. Among the four tunnels are the 3027yd long Netherton Tunnel, the last-built canal tunnel in Britain, and the dramatic and cavernous Dudley Tunnel, 3172yds long, which was restored and reopened in 1973. Much of the tunnel is unlined rock and opens out into large grottoes with branches leading off to now-abandoned underground workings.
Some junctions in the network can be confusing as they are not signposted; maps are available (1982)
TO DYE - THE DEATH by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Birmingham & The Heart of England
For nearly two decades the appearance of the combined River Soar and canal skirting Aylestone - and along the Mile Straight, bordering the city of Leicester itself - was of an inky, opaque blackness far removed from the image of a burbling, infant stream. This off-putting and unnatural phenomenon served only to reinforce the perception that it was not a city to linger in. In reality the cause was trade effluent from several dye works, established in Wigston since the year dot, passing straight through the local sewerage treatment works. New legislation had, however, imposed colour conditions on discharges amounting to full colour removal: a real challenge for the fledgling Environment Agency's hard-pressed chemists.
Yet what remained was the puzzle of the problem's relatively recent origins. One plausible explanation lay in the changing nature of the fashion industry. Once, ostensibly, buyer-led (we responded to the length of a skirt or the cut of a suit) our sartorial whims became firmly orchestrated by the industry itself: colour consistently being its key device. In unison went a definite movement towards man-made fibres and their reactive dye processes: bright colours predominated in wardrobes, their turgid residues lingered in rivers. (2000)
NAVVIES 324 by Martin Ludgate
Cheshire Ring
For 1960s, waterway supporters and
organisations including IWA and the Peak Forest Canal Society
campaigned to reopen the route, in the face of practical issues
(there were serious problems with Marple Aqueduct, which was
threatened with demolition at one point) and political ones (some
local authorities on the route wanted the canals eliminated as a
health and safety hazard), not to mention the cost of restoration.
And then there was the attitude of the privately-owned Rochdale Canal
Company who threatened to abandon their canal - as well as British
Waterways Board who took the Lower Peak Forest and Ashton off the
cruising licence and put up signs warning boaters not to attempt to
navigate these canals.
By the start of the 1970s the tide of opinion was turning. The first of the 'Big Digs', Operation Ashton, had brought several hundred volunteers to spend a weekend clearing a huge amount of rubbish from the canal; this was followed in 1972 by Ashtac, when 1000 volunteers working on the Ashton and Peak Forest launched the final push to reopen the two canals. (April-May 2024)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We were up early the next morning. It is surprising how early one can get up, when camping out. Lying wrapped up in a rug on the boards of a boat, with a Gladstone bag for a pillow, one does not yearn for “just another five minutes” nearly so much as one does in a featherbed.
We had finished breakfast, and were through Clifton Lock by half-past eight. From Clifton to Culham the river banks are flat, monotonous, and uninteresting, but, after you get through Culhalm Lock — the coldest and deepest lock on the river — the landscape improves.
At Abingdon, the river passes by the streets. Abingdon is a typical country town of the smaller order — quiet, eminently respectable, clean, and desperately dull. A famous abbey stood here once, and within what is left of its sanctified walls they brew bitter ale nowadays. It prides itself on being old, but whether it can compare in this respect with Wallingford and Dorchester seems doubtful. (1889)
A HOP, A SKIP, AND A JUMP TO DERBY by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Birmingham & The Heart of England
The Derby Canal, which left the Trent & Mersey at Swarkestone and joined the Erewash at Sandiacre, has long been disused. One condition of its building, and a constant drain on its profits, was the free carriage of 5000 tons of coal to Derby each year, for the use of the poor.
One of the most unusual loads was transported on the 19th April 1826, when 'a fine lama, a kangaroo, a ram with four horns, and a female goat with two young kids, remarkably handsome animals' arrived in Derby by canal 'as a present from Lord Byron to a Gentleman whose residence in the neighbourhood, all of which had been picked up in the course of the voyage of the Blonde to the Sandwich Islands in the autumn of 1824'. (2000)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
How to get through a canal lock
The busiest part of
canal cruising is going through locks. A lock is a chamber in which a
boat can be floated from one level to another. The gates, which are
of elm or oak, always point uphill so that water pressure forces them
together. These are easy to negotiate if the correct sequence of
opening and closing the gates and raising and lowering the water
level is followed. Every time a lock is used water is drained down
the canal, so it is important not to waste water by incorrectly
closing gates and paddles.
Operating a lock
1. If the lock is empty when your
boat is going downhill, fill the lock by opening the ground paddles
which let water in through the culverts. If there are gate paddles
only. raise them slowly. When the lock is full, open the top gates
and enter.
2. Close the paddles and gates. Open the bottom
paddles so that the lock empties. Keep your boat clear of the cill
underneath the top gates. Do not secure the boat to bollards or it
will be left suspended as the water falls. Get one of the crew to hld
a mooring line from the side of the lock.
3. When the boat has
floated down and the lock is empty, open the bottom gates and leave
the lock. Unless there is a vessel approaching or waiting to enter
the lock to go uphill, close the bottom paddles and gates so that a
following boat can repeat he manoeuvre. Close all gates at the top
lock of a flight and the last lock before a pound - a stretch of
canal.
4. Close the gates by hand and wind down the paddles.
Never slam the gates or drop the paddles suddenly: this may cause
damage or injury. If a lock is closed or ‘against’ you on arrival
do not empty or fill it if a boat is approaching from the opposite
direction. A similar sequence is used for going uphill through a
lock. (1982)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Strings Name given to thinner ropes eg for securing
tarpaulins
White strings Decorative cotton lines
surrounding the deckboard and cratch, terminating in coils, known as
rockets.
Breeching Strings Thin, short ropes used
for tying down side cloths when they are not in use.
Cabin
Strings Cotton pieces that hang on the chimney pipe side of a
boat's cabin
Cross Straps Two short ropes with
loops spliced in both ends used to haul an empty boat from the
dollies of a motor boat. The length is determined by the distance
from the towed boat's T-stud to the water. When hung in
position the bottom of the spliced loops should be just brushing the
water.
Girder string A thin rope used for lashing down
top planks when planked up. It runs from the cross beam to the top
plank.
Tiller strings short looped strings fastened to
either side of the cabin side or hatches which can be hooked over the
tiller arm to prevent it swinging in locks.
Tiller pin A
metal peg, usually brass, that secures the tiller of a motor boat.
Hanging strings or lines from it is considered both bad form and
dangerous.
Long Lining Operating a flight of narrow
locks with a pair of boats whereby the butty is drawn by a very long
cotton line passing from the motor to the butty over the intervening
lock gates and pound.
(2025)
Towpaths by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Birmingham & The Heart of England
Few, if any, artificial cuts or canals in this country are without
an intact towpath accessible to the walker at least. However, on
river navigations towpaths have on occasion fallen into disuse or,
sometimes, been lost to erosion. In today's leisure climate
considerable efforts are being made to provide access to all towpaths
with some available to the disabled. The indication of a towpath does
not necessarily imply a public right of way or mean that a right to
cycle along it exists. Motorcycling and horse riding are forbidden on
all towpaths.
Walkers confronted with Husbands Bosworth
Tunnel should take the track climbing up to the left of the
tunnel mouth and follow it over the hill to the road on the outskirts
of the village. Cross this road and follow the track over the disused
railway line, down a tree-lined glade, rejoining the waterway at the
eastern tunnel portal.
Walkers bypassing Crick Tunnel
need to take the short track on the right of the tunnel mouth and, on
joining the minor road, turn left. Follow this into the village and
turn right down Boathorse Lane. When the road bends sharply to
the left walkers may follow the footpath straight ahead (signposted
to West Haddon), cross a field along the hedgerow and, having
negotiated the stile, bear left diagonally, downhill across the next
field following the line of the drainage pits to the sign in the
hedge, which is immediately above the northern tunnel cutting. (2000)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Dredgers
The method of removing silt from canals is
the same for most canals, but the size of the plant varies with the
waterway. In the smaller canals the hand spoon dredger is
still used extensively for removing small deposits. The spoon is
suspended by a swivel derrick from the centre of the boat, which has
compartments at each end to hold the mud. The spoon is pushed forward
by the weight of the man pressing against the long handle; and when
full, it is lifted by a winch at the fore-end and emptied into the
hold. When the boat is discharging on to the tip, the process is
reversed. With this machine three men can dredge about 30 tons of mud
a day.
Steam-driven grab dredgers came into use about the middle of 19th Century. The usual size of the vessel is 14-foot beam, and the grabs have a capacity of 10 cubic yards. Some dredgers have side pontoons which give stability, and can be removed to enable the dredger to pass through narrow bridges. The grab may be either free-falling and self-closing, or opened and closed under steam pressure. The dredger is held up to the mud by ropes, and the dredged material deposited into hopper boats to be taken to the tip. Working in ordinary mud, which does not have to be carried very far, these dredgers can dredge 1,000 tons a week, or about 2 miles of narrow canal a year. Narrow canals with average protections to the banks may need re-dredging every 20 years.
When there are not many bridges and the material can be deposited direct on the banks alongside the canal, a drag-line crane creeper track is sometimes used. This is a crane, driven by an internal-combustion engine, which moves along the bank. It has a grab shaped like an inverted bucket with teeth, which is swung out over the canal, and pulled in when it is full. This is quick and cheap to work. (1957)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Fish lurking among the weeds
Pike 16-25in. The
ferocious pike lies among weeds waiting to capture fish, birds, frogs
and newts. It spawns in spring.
Carp 20in. Moving in
small shoals the carp feeds on bottom- living animals and plants. It
spawns May-July and can live up to 40 years.
Bream
12-20in. A deep-bodied fish, the bream has slimy skin and a small
head. It feeds on animals on the river bed and spawns April- June.
Eel 18-30in. The eel lies in weed beds by day and eats
bottom- living animals by night. It migrates to the sea to breed.
Tench 12in. The tench lives buried in mud or among weeds
where it feeds on bottom-living animals. It has slimy skin with tiny
scales and spawns May-July.
Roach 7in. The roach feeds
on algae, insects, crustaceans and snails. It spawns April-May,
attaching its eggs to water plants.
Perch 6-12in. The
perch feeds on crustaceans, insects and fish. It also spawns in
April-May, attaching its eggs to water plants. (1982)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
The landlord told us the real history of the fish. It seemed that he had caught it himself, years ago, when he was quite a lad; not by any art or skill, but by that unaccountable luck that appears to always wait upon a boy when he plays the wag from school, and goes out fishing on a sunny afternoon, with a bit of string tied on to the end of a tree.
He was called out of the room at this point, and George and I again turned our gaze upon the fish. It really was a most astonishing trout. The more we looked at it, the more we marvelled at it. It excited George so much that he climbed up on the back of a chair to get a better view of it. And then the chair slipped, and George clutched wildly at the trout-case to save himself, and down it came with a crash, George and the chair on top of it. “You haven’t injured the fish, have you?” I cried in alarm, rushing up. “I hope not” said George, rising cautiously and looking about. But he had. That trout lay shattered into a thousand fragments — I say a thousand, but they may have only been nine hundred. I did not count them.
We thought it strange and unaccountable that a stuffed trout should break up into little pieces like that. And so it would have been strange and unaccountable, if it had been a stuffed trout, but it was not. That trout was plaster-of-Paris. (1889)
IS IT NESSIE-SARILY SO? by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
It is very deep, perhaps 975ft, with a bottom of liquified peat,
and it is very cold: below 100ft the water stays at a pretty constant
42°F. Until 1981 it was thought nothing could live below the surface
layer of Loch Ness, until Arctic char were discovered at 700ft. So
perhaps…
The first recorded sighting of a monster in Loch
Ness was in AD 565, when one appeared 'with a great roar
and an open mouth' and the creature went away...
apparently not to be seen again for another 1000 years, until Duncan
Campbell reported 'A terrible beast seen on the loch
shore' in 1527. On 6 July 1734 'there
appeared a very terrible sea-animal which raised itself above the
water. When it submerged it raised its tail above the water, a whole
ship length from its body'. So perhaps, just perhaps…
The well-known 'surgeon's
picture', taken at Loch Ness on 19 April 1934, and
apparently showing a long-necked creature with a small head, lit the
touch-paper of 'Nessie research', which has
continued to the present time. A movie taken in 1960 by Tim Dinsdale
was analysed by Air Reconnaissance Intelligence, who concluded it was
about 5ft6in wide, moving at 10mph, and 'probably
animate'. On 19 October 1971 the beast was reported by
Father Gregory Brusey of Fort Augustus Abbey, who saw a terrific
commotion ... the neck of the beast standing out of the water.
Searches with underwater submarines began during the late 1960s,
with perhaps the most successful being that of Dr. Robbert Rines
(Academy of Applied Science, Boston, USA), who took a picture of a
large flipper, attached to... what?
And so it goes on, with
sonar sweeps by 24 co-ordinated boats, casual observations, mini
submarines and goodness-knows what else probing the peaty depths.
Perhaps Sir Peter Scott, ex-Chairman of the World Wildlife Fund,
should have the last word. He stated that the underwater pictures
leave no further doubt in my mind that large animals exist in Loch
Ness, and went on to attribute a formal scientific name for in:
Nessiteras rhombopteryx - an anagram of Monster hoax by Sir
Peter S (2003)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
The White Paper A New Deal for Transport; Better for
Everyone set out proposals for the future of our inland waterways
- the canals and navigable rivers of England and Wales.
The
Government wants to promote the inland waterways, encouraging a
modern, integrated and sustainable approach to their use. We want to
protect and conserve an important part of our national heritage. At
the same time, we want to maximise the opportunities the waterways
offer for leisure and recreation; as a catalyst for urban and rural
regeneration; for education; and for freight transport. We want to
encourage innovative uses such as water transfer and
telecommunications.
The last major review of the inland waterways was carried out more than thirty years ago and led to the Transport Act 1968 which recognised that the main role of the nationalised waterways was shifting from transport to amenity and recreational use. Today, all our waterways are more widely appreciated than ever. As well as their recreational and transport roles, the waterways also supply water and have become part of the land drainage system. The system is rich in heritage value and is an important environmental and ecological resource. The waterways stimulate regeneration and are increasingly being used in innovative ways. The system is undergoing a renaissance as more derelict waterways are restored, greater resources are devoted to maintaining the existing system and increased effort is put into maximising the benefits the waterways offer. (June 2000)
Navvies 324 - WRG safety review 2023 by Mike Palmer
Erecting scaffolding
Some of the lengths of scaffold
tube commonly used on our worksites are quite long, heavy, and
unwieldy, especially when they are being erected as
'standards' (verticals). If you don't have
enough people holding one, it's very easy to inadvertently
let it fall while holding it ready for assembly or perhaps when
passing it to another team. Make sure you've got enough
people on it, even if it delays the job by a couple of minutes. Never
try to hold two standards up at once - if one starts to go over, you
have no option but to let go of the other one to try to recover the
first.
When erecting / altering / taking-down scaffolding, make sure that everyone knows what they're doing, and that you don't leave anything unsupported at any point - particularly if you're removing / replacing bracing. Again, it could be a case of making sure you have enough people - and that they're all working in co-ordination. (April-May 2024)
Hansard House of Lords by Baroness Miller of Chilthorne Domer
The Canal & River Trust, which is now responsible for our waterways, has embarked on a review by an independent commission. It says that the review will seek to implement any reforms, including any legislative changes, as soon as possible after its conclusion. Your Lordships may feel that that is a good way forward, but the problem is that housing is not reflected anywhere in the Canal & River Trust’s main purposes: waterways management, maintenance, environmental protection, and generating income to support its work, which might include development along the riverbanks. Your Lordships can see that nowhere is it tasked with looking after the rights of boat dwellers to a safe and secure home situation. All this amendment is asking the Minister to do is to ensure that this group of boat dwellers be considered within the scope and implications of the [Renters’ Rights] Bill. Defra formed a working group in 2017 to try to resolve some of these issues, but that was inconclusive. (14 May 2025)
Restoration and Reopening of the Huddersfield Narrow Canal by Keith Gibson
Local authorities, British Waterways and the Huddersfiield Narrow
Canal Society formed a Joint Committee to oversee the future of the
canal. Greater Manchester County Council agreed to do the work in
Uppermill - the first time a public body employed contractors on
restoring the canal.
This was among the last tasks of the
Metropolitan County Councils because, in 1986, the government decided
to abolish them.
Greater Manchester Council calculated how much
they would have invested in future years had they been able to
continue supporting the job creation work and decided to leave that
sum as a legacy to allow work to continue. Because of the annual
nature of the budgets of British Waterways and the three local
authorities, the Canal Society was the only Joint Committee partner
able to invest a large sum of money to spend over a period of years.
After a great deal of legal consideration, a cheque to the value of
£1,200,000 was presented to the Society with very strict controls
over the way the money had to be invested and spent. A condition was
that British Waterways sponsored an Act of Parliament rescinding the
clause of the 1944 Act of Parliament that prevented navigation. This
led to approval of the British Waterways Act in 1988 after which the
relevant subsection of the 1944 Act no longer applied and navigation
could again be permitted on the canal. (2013)
WE ARE THE OVALTINE-EES by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Birmingham & The Heart of England
Dr George Wander founded the company which was to manufacture Ovaltine in Switzerland in 1864. Finding a ready market in England, the company established a factory at Kings Langley, beside what is now the Grand Union Canal.
In 1925 they decided to build their own fleet of narrow boats to bring coal to this factory from Warwickshire. Their boats were always immaculately maintained, with the words 'Drink delicious Ovaltine for Health' emblazoned in orange and yellow on a very dark blue background. The last boat arrived at Kings Langley on 17 April 1959. (2000)
NABO News Issue 6 by River Canal Rescue
In December 2020, River Canal Rescue reported a rise in the number of call-outs across the UK for fuel-related issues, unrelated to the usual fuel contaminants. Engineers found cases of seized injection pump racks with blocked nozzles, fuel injector and filter head plunger failures. The culprit was fuel that had left a syrupy and sticky residue in the fuel system, clogging components. It was contamination not seen before, and fuel samples taken from boats were sent away for analysis. Bafflingly the samples were clear - the only indication of contamination is a smell of turps/paint thinners. Any residue in the fuel was so small it was not able to be collected.
Over the past four years, RCR has been working to identify solutions to this protracted residue build-up, to prevent it clogging up engine components. RCR engineers, have however, seen fuel-related call-outs (injectors/pumps/contamination etc) continue to rise and believe it's directly attributed to sticky fuel related issues.
In summary
- Sticky fuel occurs in all types of engines, anywhere in the country and with boaters using a range of different fuel suppliers; local fuel supply is not the problem.
- Do not store fuel for more than six months
- Do not store/use fuel treatments for more than a year
- Leave your tank empty over winter
- If there are issues with the engine running and no clear cause - treat with Winns injector treatment to clear suspected signs of sticky fuel
Crinan Canal by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
Looking at a map of Kintyre you might wonder why a canal crossing, to avoid the often turbulent waters off the Mull of Kintyre, was not made at Tarbert, its narrowest point. Indeed the Norsemen used to drag their ships the short distance across the isthmus here, as did Robert the Bruce (1274-1329), who had his boat towed on tree trunks used as rollers. A canal was actually surveyed at Tarbert in 1770 by James Watt, who proposed a direct, lock-free, cut at a cost of £90,000, and this scheme was approved by Parliament, but it eventually came to nothing (2003)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Dredgers
Ports, canals, and navigable rivers are kept
clear for traffic by dredgers, special boats fitted with machinery to
scoop up mud and silt from the bed of the waterway. Canals always
tend to silt up, especially where the banks are unprotected by
concrete piles or walls. The narrower waterways used by
self-propelled craft suffer most, since the wash from the propellers
is continually eating into the banks. Another cause of silting is the
soil washed in from cuttings and high lands.
Navigable rivers do not usually silt up all over, as the flow generally keeps a passage clear; but shoals form on the inside of bends, and are caused by the scouring or washing away produced by lock sluices. Silting is partly a result of river pollution. Sewage and chemical discharges and hot waste water from generating stations all tend to make a river deposit the solid particles in its water, instead of carrying them out to sea.
With the growth in the size of ships, most ports have been forced to resort to dredging to provide the deeper water required. In the Port of London, for instance, an artificial approach channel, 1,000 feet wide and 30 feet deep at ordinary low water, has been dredged from the sea into the heart of London. The tide scours this channel clear of deposit, but maintenance dredging is necessary in certain areas, notably in tidal basins and the approaches to dock locks. Some 170 million tons of material have been removed from the bed of the tidal Thames by dredging. (1957)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Guide to the terms used by watermen
Balance
beam Large timber running horizontally from a lock gate. It is
used as a lever for opening and closing the gate.
Bridge
hole The arch under a canal bridge.
Butty An
unpowered narrow boat towed behind a motor boat.
Cut A
canal, so called because it is an artificial cut of the land.
Draw To open a sluice or paddle of a lock.
Gates
The movable watertight gates at each end of the lock. The gate where
the water level is the highest is known as the top gate; and
where the water is at the lower level, the bottom gate.
Keb Long rake kept at locksides for removing debris from the
lock.
Lengthman A man employed by a navigation authority
to maintain a section of waterway, especially the water levels.
Narrow beam A canal on which the locks do not exceed a width
of 7ft6 in.
Narrow boat A boat designed for narrow
canals. Generally, 70ft long with a 7ft beam. (1982)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
The inland waterways are an important asset for future generations to enjoy and the Government is keen to see them maintained and developed in a sustainable way so that they fulfil their social, economic and environmental potential. We share the vision of the Inland Waterways Amenity Advisory Council (IWAAC), the Government's statutory advisory body on waterways which, in its report Britain's Inland Waterways - An Undervalued Asset, called for the inland waterways to be retained, conserved and developed sustainably to encourage their best use and the contribution they can make to national, regional and local goals.
We are determined to increase the contribution that the inland waterways can make to the life of the country. We plan to do this by encouraging uses and initiatives which make the most suitable and sympathetic use of the waterways in their evolving role. These will be built on the principles of sustainable development including partnership. We will encourage partnerships with the public, private and voluntary sectors which can offer new skills and sources of funding. (June 2000)
Quay Strategy by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
Navigating the tidal Trent, the boater is constantly aware of the potential – both past and present - to effortlessly move large bulk loads. Evidence of the river's past glory as a waterways highway can be found at every tortuous twist and turn in the form of decaying wharves and jetties.
The waterfront at Gainsborough, once heaving with barge traffic - often as many as three-deep - jostling for position to load or unload, is now moribund, locked in by concrete flood defences. This apparent shame at a past prosperity, one that was largely water-generated, is a telling indictment on the importance now attached to what was arguably the original form of green transport. Logic, it would appear, is completely lacking in a system that eschews the economies and scale of water transport in favour of diesel guzzling lorries. But, on reflection, is it? The more diesel consumed, the more revenue for the government. The greater the number of lorries cluttering up the roads, the greater the income from the road fund licence. Could it be that promoting the benefits of water transport would be to shoot the chancellor in the foot or, possibly, somewhere economically far more painful. (2000)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
When I was a young man, I used to listen to tales from my elders, and take them in, and swallow them, and digest every word of them, and then come up for more; but the new generation do not seem to have the simple faith of the old times. We — George, Harris, and myself — took a “raw ’un” up with us once last season, and we plied him with the customary stretchers about the wonderful things we had done all the way up the river.
We gave him all the regular ones — the time-honoured lies that have done duty up the river with every boating-man for years past — and added seven entirely original ones that we had invented for ourselves, including a really quite likely story, founded, to a certain extent, on an all-but-true episode, which had actually happened in a modified degree some years ago to friends of ours — a story that a mere child could have believed without injuring itself, much.
And that young man mocked at them all, and wanted us to repeat the feats then and there, and to bet us ten to one that we didn’t. (1889)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Guide to the terms used by watermen
Paddle The
sluice for filling or emptying a lock of water. In the North of
England a paddle is called a clough (pronounced
"clow"). In Ireland it is a rack.
Pound The stretch of water between two canal locks.
Side pond A small reservoir re-using water to refill a lock
instead of letting it run away.
Sill The masonry beneath
a lock gate, some- times projecting several feet from the gate.
Stop gates Wood or metal gates, similar to a lock gate, used
to retain a section of a canal during repairs. Also known as planks
Summit The highest stretch of water on a canal - often fed
by a reservoir.
Wheeler or Lock Wheeler A person
- at one time a cyclist - who travels ahead of the boat to set the
locks in readiness
Winding hole A wide place on the
waterway for turning boats. So called as the wind was used to assist
in turning
Windlass The L-shaped crank or handle used
for winding the paddles up and down, usually detachable, but
sometimes fixed (1982)
Ringing World no 5283 by Jennifer Earis
Saturday 26th May 2012 Nine members of the Ancient Society of College Youths met at North Greenwich Pier in blazing sunshine eagerly anticipating the first onboard tryout and peal on the Royal Jubilee Bells. Bells or not, cruising down the Thames to Westminster Pier and back was clearly going to be an excellent way to spend the day. We rang the bells up without incident. The bells, whilst extremely loud, sounded glorious and were easy to handle whilst the wind was calm at the start of the day. We rang a few touches of Surprise Major and Stedman whilst cruising from Greenwich to Blackfriars Bridge, enjoying the opportunity to observe bemused onlookers on the banks of the river between touches.
Once suntan lotion had been applied and ear plugs had been inserted, we began the peal. Starting at Blackfriars Bridge, we rang a peal of Middleton's Cambridge Major. The composition and method were carefully selected to suit conditions where ringers cannot hear what the conductor or anyone else is saying! Whilst a peal of Middleton's would not usually be an exceptionally difficult undertaking, this peal ranks at the top of my scariest and hardest peals yet rung. Whilst the wind had been benign throughout the morning, a strong breeze soon seemed to be howling through the boat. The direction of travel meant that it was sometimes necessary for me to take several paces forward to retrieve my sally, irrespective of how tightly I tried to handle my bell. Maintaining the level of concentration needed to catch the sally in these conditions was extremely challenging.
The sense of achievement when the peal came round was palpable and we were all delighted, though exhausted, that we'd made it through with eight bells in the right place at the end of it. The quality of ringing was actually very good and I believe exceeded all our expectations when boarding the boat at the start of the day. (27 July 2012)
Boat Handling by Nicholson Waterways Guide Norfolk Broads
If you are hiring a boat, your boatyard will brief you thoroughly on the various controls, boat handling and manoeuvring, and mooring. You will also be provided with a Skipper's Guide for ready reference while you are onboard.
- A cruiser is big and heavy and has no brakes. To stop it you must put it into reverse - it can take a long time to stop, so you must think and plan ahead.
- The water in a river or broad is always moving. The water and your boat will be affected by the winds and tides Be aware that steering straight may not keep you on a straight path.
- Steering a boat with a rudder is different from steering a car. The boat pivots on its centre point and it is the bow (front) and the stern (back) of the boat that move. You will be facing the bow, but always think about what the back end of your boat is doing, to prevent it swinging out into other boats or the bank.
- Always manoeuvre the boat at slow speeds. You must be able to operate your boat without causing injury to people, wildlife, the environment, moorings, structures on the banks and other property.
- In general children under eight must not drive a motor boat. There are some circumstances in which children aged between eight and fourteen may drive a motor boat - check the Navigation Byelaws for details.
- Most boats turn better in one direction than another. When viewed from behind, most boats' propellers turn clockwise these boats will turn better to port (left).
Dullatur Bog by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
One of the most demanding sections of the Forth and Clyde Canal to be built, challenging Smeaton's engineering skills to the utmost, was the length of the summit pound through Dullatur Bog. Initially the plan was to fill the canal as it progressed through the bog, in order to equalise the pressure on both sides of its newly created banks. Ultimately this tactic failed and the workings were engulfed - even a stable block vanished into the mire.
On the second attempt a vast bank of earth and stone was built up on the towpath side, which finally settled as deep as 50ft into the bog before stabilising and producing the straight - and extremely wide - cut that we see today. Stories abound as to the reasons behind a plague of frogs that manifested itself at this time: the more pious saw it as the wrath of God at man's meddling, the less susceptible as the outcome of a disturbed eco-system. (2003)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
The Panama Canal would join the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, crossing the Isthmus of Panama. Ships journeying from Europe to the Pacific ports of North or South America had to make the stormy passage round Cape Horn and the Panama Canal would shorten the journey by sea between Liverpool and San Francisco by about 5,600 miles. The idea of making a way for ships through this narrow neck of land is as old as the 16th century and until the early 19th century successive Spanish governments had made tentative plans. The French engineer, de Lesseps, fresh from his triumph over the Suez Canal, took up the problem. In 1879, at 74 years of age, formed a company to raise money for the scheme. De Lesseps' engineers estimated that the canal would cost £26 million. Americans, not favouring a canal built by Europeans, refused to support the company, and most of the money was raised in France.
The canal-builders soon ran into difficulties caused both by the unhealthy, fever-infested climate, and by the magnitude of the engineering task, made worse by the behaviour of the River Chagres. This river, at some times a mere brook, during rainy seasons swelled to a raging torrent, flooding the country and sweeping everything before it. The intention was to make a sea-level canal by tunnelling through the Culebra hills which run down the middle of the isthmus. But the work of removing the enormous quantities of earth and rock was made impossible, both by the river which kept breaking through and sweeping away the machinery, and by the fever which attacked the workmen. During the 9 years that the struggle continued, as many as 16,000 men died of malaria and yellow fever. Much money was wasted in mismanagement, and after many millions had been spent, the disastrous project was abandoned; many thousands of people who had put their savings into it were ruined. (1957)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
We had written for a boat — a double sculling skiff; the man said for Jim to "fetch round The Pride of the Thames and he re-appeared, struggling with an antediluvian chunk of wood, recently dug out of somewhere. On first catching sight of this Roman relic — relic of what I did not know, possibly of a coffin, I knew the neighbourhood as rich in Roman relics; but our serious young crew-man, a bit of a geologist, pooh-poohed my theory and said it was the fossil of a whale belonging to the preglacial period. To settle the dispute, we appealed to the boy Jim. Speak the plain truth: Was it the fossil of a pre-Adamite whale, or was it an early Roman coffin?. The boy said it was The Pride of the Thames. Somebody gave him twopence as a reward for his ready wit; but when he persisted in keeping up the joke, we got vexed with him.
“Come, come, my lad! You take your mother’s washing-tub home again, and bring us a boat.” The boat-builder himself came up, and assured us, on his word as a practical man, that the thing really was a boat — was the boat, the double sculling skiff selected to take us down the river. We grumbled a good deal. He might, at least, have had it whitewashed or tarred — had something done to it to distinguish it from a wreck; but he could not see any fault in it and seemed offended at our remarks. He had picked us the best boat in all his stock, and he thought we might have been more grateful. It, The Pride of the Thames had been in use, just as it now stood (or rather hung together), for the last forty years, and nobody had complained of it before, and he did not see why we should be the first.
We argued no more. We fastened the so-called boat together with some pieces of string, got a bit of wall-paper and pasted over the shabbier places, said our prayers, and stepped on board. They charged us thirty-five shillings for the loan of the remnant for six days; and we could have bought the thing out-and-out for four-and-sixpence at any sale of drift-wood round the coast. (1889)
Brewer's Britain & Ireland by John Ayro and Richard Crofton
The Romans used the River Trent as a transport route and the Danes used it as an invasion route, their means of access to Nottingham. The river's name probably means trespasser, strongly flooding one. It's the chief river in the English Midlands, and the third longest river in England and flows 170 miles, mainly northeastwards, to join the Ouse, thus forming the Humber Estuary. Its navigation was improved in the 18th century, increasing its importance as a freight carrier.
The Trent is subject to a tidal wave known as an eagre, a word of unknown origin. When there is a tide of over 25ft at Hull, it forces a wave of between 1ft and 5ft up the Trent as far as Cromwell Lock. The tidal Trent is the Floss of George Eliot's novel The Mill on the Floss (1860), whose flooding has such tragic results.
The Trent and Mersey Canal, constructed in the 1760s, connects it ultimately with the River Mersey. Running along the valley of the River Trent, it is now little used, but in its heyday it transported the pots from the Potteries and the beer from Burton upon Trent. Near its northern end it is, or was, linked to the River Weaver by the remarkable Anderton Boat Lift, built in 1875 and now a scheduled monument, which raised boats 50ft. The Trent is also linked to the Grand Union Canal (2005)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Canals have to be watertight. The early canal-builders used to line the bed of the canal with puddle clay, a clay of an even texture worked up with water until it was like putty. They plastered this in layers up to 2 or 3 feet thick both on the bed and sides of the canal. When, however, the boats began to be propelled by engines instead of animal power, stronger banks were needed to resist the force of the wash from the propellers. Modern canals, therefore, have concrete walls. The 6ft or 7ft wide towing-path along one side of the canal, essential in early days, is now no longer necessary. In a modern canal the cross-section of the waterway has nearly straight lines, the top width being four or five times the width of the barge, and the depth 2 or 3 feet below the depth of the loaded barge. (1957)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
On the towpaths once trodden by towing horses, walkers seek the countryside while anglers sit under green umbrellas. The 3000 miles of open canals form Britain's newest pleasure ground. The attraction of the canals for many people is their loneliness. They seem to follow their own secret routes through the countryside, usually far from the noise of road and rail routes, penetrating right into the unspoilt green heart of the land.
Each canal has its own character whose subtle differences cannot be seen from a distance but only close at hand along the bank. There are towns and villages which owe their existence to them, because they grew up at junctions and wharves. The villages often consist of a warehouse, inn, shop and group of cottages, dating from the early days when the boatmen and bargees lived ashore. (1982)
Crinan Canal by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
the Crinan Canal's present route, proposed by the Duke of Argyll, the Marquis of Bute and the Earl of Breadalbane was agreed, with an Act of Parliament being secured in May 1793. Shares were offered by a group of proprietors, with the Duke of Argyll as governor and John Rennie as engineer. By 1804 the canal was open but incomplete, and further funds had to be obtained through a government loan, with the route being finally finished in 1809. The work was, however, so badly executed that more money was required; Thomas Telford produced a report in 1813 which called for further expenditure. Eventually the Barons of the Exchequer paid for the completion of the canal, and in 1848 the responsibility for the management of the Crinan Canal passed to the Commissioners of the Caledonian Canal.
Things at last stabilised and a period of relative prosperity followed, with revenue being raised from passenger steamers, Clyde puffers, fishing boats and yachts. Ownership was transferred to the British Waterways Board (as was) in 1963. Today it is still a valuable short-cut, avoiding an exposed 130-mile voyage around the Mull of Kintyre to the Sound of Jura, and making an excellent walk or cycle ride.
The late Duncan Macrae used to sing this refrain whilst he
portrayed a ParaHandy-type skipper:
The Crinan Canal for me
It's neither too big nor too wee
Wild
foamin' breakers fair give me the shakers
The Crinan
Canal for me (2003)
IWA Milepost - Travelling is the Essence by Peter J Scott
Travelling Is The Essence
That is our motto:
it's our way of canalling: it's our way of
enjoyment. It means working the canal in an efficient way: when
walking to a lock, to be doing it purpousefully: there is no need to
run, but no need to dawdle either. The trip will have its contingency
for the unexpected - or more accurately the expectation of the
unexpected - delay. Other people will be doing things at their pace,
and the normal camaraderie of the Cut makes that all work in harmony.
What makes it hard now ...
... is that additional
difficulty in arranging canalling trips: the Navigation Authority
that decides to close things down without understanding the
inconvenience it is causing. The bureaucratic mind decides that, for
instance, the working of a three-rise lock is
'complicated' and that it would help everyone if a
lockkeeper were there to supervise proceedings. What starts as a
help-to-boaters becomes a restriction-to-boaters as soon as it
becomes convenient to padlock the locks as the lockkeeper goes
home. "8am to 6pm is enough" says the Navigation
Authority, and never having measured the demand for its use on summer
evenings, the closure becomes ingrained and boaters have to put up
with it.
Then we try to save money on lockkeepers, and it all needs to be done within the working day without overtime. And after a couple of rounds of economies, at least one change of management what was once an experiment, has become the Norm and the Requirement. Then the locks are open from 9.30am to 3.30pm, and the Navigation Authority says this can "easily accommodate all the boat movements of the previous year". Except that this Creeping Closure has reduced a summer day from eighteen hours' availability to six and has discouraged or frightened away all those who wanted a relaxing trip without having to rush to beat today's lock-locking time. What was supposed to be an additional service to boaters has become a serious impediment to planning a trip or giving employment to those who now spend lots of their time wielding padlocks and barring the way to their customers. (2010)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Dredgers In certain situations the suction dredger can be used, generally where there is a thick layer of mud or sand, and no danger of opening a soft spot in the bed of the canal. The material is sucked up through long pipes by means of pumps. Suction plant is frequently used for discharging mud from hoppers at the tip; as, however, the material is in a fluid state, there must be plenty of space and adequate banks at the tip so that the mud can settle and the water drain off. Disused gravel or clay pits made good dredging tips.
The ladder or continuous bucket dredger is usually employed in rivers and estuaries. Careful preliminary work by a marine surveyor is necessary to ensure that the dredger works on the exact site of the shoal, and it is held in place by a number of strong moorings. The silt, or 'spoil' as it is called, is shot into attendant hopper barges which may be self- propelled or towed by powerful tugs. In most cases the 'spoil' is dumped at sea in deep water; Thames hoppers, for instance, carry their loads to the Black Deep in the outer Thames estuary where they are deposited without any danger of forming new shoals. The hopper barges have 'doors' in the bottoms of their holds through which the mud is dropped out. (1957)
Humble Pi - a comedy of maths errors by Matt Parker
Bridges over troubled maths
When looking at
engineering disasters, bridges are a perfect example. We've
been building them for millennia, and it is not as simple as building
a house or a wall. The potential for mistakes is far greater; they
are, by definition, suspended in the air. Famously, when
London's Millennium Bridge was unveiled in 2000, it had to
be closed after only two days. The engineers had failed to calculate
that people walking on it would set the bridge swinging.
In order to give the bridge a very low profile, it was effectively 'side suspended', with the supports next to, and sometimes below, the walking platform of the bridge and the steel cables of the Millennium Bridge dip only about 2.3metres. The steel ropes have to be very tight: the cables carried a tension force of about 2,000tonnes. Much like a guitar string, the more tension in a bridge, the more likely it is to vibrate at higher frequencies. The Millennium Bridge had been accidentally tuned to around 1Hertz. But not in the normal up-and-down direction; it wobbled from side to side.
To this day, the Millennium Bridge is known to Londoners as The Wobbly Bridge even though it only wobbled for two days. The official description for what went wrong was synchronous lateral excitation from pedestrians. It was the people walking on the bridge which caused it to wobble. Getting something as massive as the Millennium Bridge to start to wobble using brute force is a near-impossible challenge for a bunch of pedestrians. Except this bridge was accidentally tuned to make it easy. Most people walk at about two steps per second, which means their body swings side to side once per second. A human walking is, for all bridge intents and purposes, a mass vibrating at 1Hertz - which was the perfect rate to get the bridge wobbling. It matched one of the bridge's resonant frequencies. (2019)
The Essential Survival Manual by Kenn Griffiths
OCEAN NAVIGATION
Your chances of survival and rescue
in ocean environments may depend on moving from your initial location
- say to a more habitable island, or a busy shipping lane. To do so,
you will need to navigate. This is straightforward with navigational
instruments, but still possible with nothing at all.
The most critical rule to remember is that the sun rises from an easterly direction but not directly east, and sets in a westerly direction, not due west. If you are in the Northern Hemisphere, the sun passes to the south of you; if you are in the Southern Hemisphere, it passes to the north of you. To complicate things, from the Equator (0°) to latitude 23.5°north and 23.5°south, the sun's path varies - this is well known and logged, and determined by the time of the year. This variation must be accounted for when plotting any course.
Away from these equatorial zones, and ignoring any local daylight-saving time adjustments, the sun is due south at midday in the Northern Hemisphere, and due north at midday in the Southern Hemisphere (2018)
Canal & River Trust working on the Worcester & Birmingham by Damian Kemp
Working at Tardebigge Top Lock, the third deepest in the country, the front facing brickwork of the chamber has been carefully removed, brick by brick, down to a depth of more than three metres.
The lock is listed and an important piece of canal heritage, so we are saving bricks to be reused, once they’ve been refurbished. For new bricks, we have built several test-walls to see which are the best match – overseen by the local council’s conservation officer, leading to Listed Building Consent to continue with the work. The scale of works has to be seen to be believed! We are on track to reopen the navigation in August. (6 June 2025)
Plinth at Tardebigge by IWA and Worcester Birmingham Canal Society
AT THIS SPOT IN 1946
ON BOARD ‘CRESSY’
TOM
& ANGELA ROLT
FIRST MET
ROBERT AICKMAN
AND
DECIDED TO FOUND THE
INLAND WATERWAYS ASSOC.
1981 ERECTED
BY THE WORC-BHAM, CANAL SOCIETY
This plaque was unveilled on August 13th 2005 by Sonia Rolt. It
commemorates the sixtieth anniversary of the 1945 meeting described
above and the start of the diamond jubilee celebrations of the Inland
Waterways Association and corrects the date given in error by Robert
Aickman himself in 1980 before the above plaque was erected.
IWA West Midlands Section. The Worcester Birmingham Canal Society (2005)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Britain's inland waterway system blossomed with the Industrial Revolution. In the late 18th century when roads were still poor, 6000 miles of navigable rivers and canals became vital arteries between bustling mill and factory towns and the seaports. More canals continued to be opened well into the 19th century, but they were already doomed by the railways, and by 1830 they were declining rapidly. The effect of the railways can still be noticed by the canals. Rail competition forced canal owners to cut their prices, which in turn forced the boatmen to give up their cottages and take their families on their barges for a life afloat. Inns sprang up along the canals for the boat crews and these are still there today.
Now life is returning to these old canals, but the colourful commercial narrow boats and barges have mostly given way to the hired motor-launch, the canoe and the sailing dinghy. Exploring by boat is only one way of enjoying the canals, with their villages, humpbacked bridges, aqueducts and secretive tunnels. Walking and hiking on the towpaths is growing more popular as even minor roads become more crowded with traffic. Every year stretches of towpath are being repaired and opened to the public. On some urban sections there is no right of way, but those on foot are welcome in the rural areas - at their own risk. Walkers are advised to wear stout boots because hedges are often overgrown and banks are eroded by the wash from boats. (1982)
Passing a Moored Boat by Considerate Boater
Passing moored boats is easy. Just Slow Down. It is the responsibility of the moored boat to tie up correctly and it is true that many don't. Regardless of that, if the passing boat slows down to engine tick over then it almost won't matter how well the boat is secured. If you don't slow the engine down until you are next to the other boat, then you will still be travelling too fast. As a general rule, and there are many factors involved, if you are cruising at a steady walking pace, it will take at least two boat lengths to slow down sufficiently. Slowing the boat down early will also give you the opportunity to use engine-power / prop-speed to have greater manoeuvrability if a gust of wind should make passing difficult. If you are still slowing down as you are passing, then your rudder control will be much reduced. Keep well clear of the other boat. There might be reasons why you can't give a wide berth such as shallow areas or overhanging trees or there is an oncoming boat. The more room you can give them the better. Try to avoid that invisible magnet that seems to draw boats together.
Avoid getting annoyed if a boat is passing your moored boat at speed when conditions are windy. It might be the only way they can get past with control. If they are Considerate Boaters then they will have slowed the boat down well before trying to pass you and it will only be the engine speed that is high to maintain rudder control. (2008)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
The invention of the Lock which enabled vessels to be transferred from one water-level to another, is claimed by the Italians, who used it in 1481 on the Brenta, near Padua; but it was not generally known in England until some 80 years later, when it was used on a short length of 3 miles of canal connecting Exeter with the sea.
The first thing to consider in building a canal is the size of the boat for which it is needed. The early English canals were built to deal with local traffic and to conform to the nature of the country, and in consequence the canals vary a good deal in size. This drawback is not found in Continental waterways, however, nor in American, for the canals were for the most part built to connect large navigable rivers and lakes for long-distance traffic.
When canals were first built, before locks were used, it was necessary to keep to level ground; and so it was common to follow the contours of the ground - which is the reason why so many British canals wind about, taking a more devious route than a modern canal would. But even with modern canals, which can deal with differences of level by a lock or boat lift, it is desirable to use as many level stretches as possible, for passing through locks means loss of time in travelling. In some places, accordingly, the canal is on a built-up embankment, or runs along an aqueduct built of stone, brick, or concrete; in other places it runs through cuttings, or even, where cuttings would have to be too deep, through tunnels. (1957)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
When I go to the sea-side, I always determine — when thinking over the matter in London — that I’ll get up early every morning, and go and have a dip before breakfast, and I religiously pack up a pair of drawers and a bath towel. I always get red bathing drawers. I rather fancy myself in red drawers. They suit my complexion so.
But when I get to the sea I don’t feel somehow that I want that early morning bathe nearly so much as I did when I was in town. (1889)
Voyage of H.M.S.Blonde to the Sandwich Islands, by Captain The Right Hon.Lord Byron, Commander
Wreck of the Frances Mary
On 7th March 1826, one of
those affecting incidents occurred which surpass in horrible
interestall that invention has ever produced to move the sympathies
of man. About 4pm. a strange sail was reported, and though, from the
haziness of the weather, she was but indistinctly seen, it was
perceived that she was in distress. We steered directly for her,
being distant about nine miles. As we neared her, she proved to be in
distress indeed: she was a complete wreck, and water-logged, but
being laden with timber had not sunk.
Her dismantled rigging indicated how severe had been her struggle with the elements. Her foremast was carried away, but part of her bowsprit and the stump of her main-topmast were still standing, and a topsail yard was crossed, to which a few shreds of canvas were still hanging. An English jack reversed was attached to the main rigging, and the mizen-mast was partly gone. The sea had cleared the decks of every thing. The evening was closing in, with every sign of an approaching gale. Thick squalls had already once or twice concealed from us the object of our pursuit; but at length we came near enough to discern two human figures on the wreck, and, presently, four others came out from behind the remnants of a tattered sail, which had been their only shelter from the weather. It was late ere our boat reached the wreck, where she remained long; and, as the weather was growing worse and the night dark, we fired a gun to hasten her return.
No words can describe the wretched state of the poor creatures she brought when she did come. Two women and four men were sent up in the arms of the sailors, evidently suffering in the last stage of famine. They were immediately carried below, and supplied with small quantities of tea and bread, then stripped of their wretched clothing, washed, and put to bed. Meantime the officer reported the condition in which he had found the wreck. It appeared to have been thirty-two days in the state in which we saw it, during which time most of the crew had died, and the rest had only preserved life by feeding on their late companions. (1826)
AN ELECTION TAKES ITS TOLL by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
The Derwent Navigation was owned between 1782 and 1833 by Earl Fitzwilliam, and it became quite prosperous. In 1807, the local electors voted for an independent rather than both of the Earl's nominees to Parliament, and he gave vent to his displeasure by raising tolls on the river:
"Take Notice, That from and after the First Day of July next, you are hereby required to deliver ... to the Lock Keeper ... a full Account, in Writing, of all the Coals, Corn, Goods, Wares, Merchandize, or Commodities, that shall be carried up or down the said River ... and to pay to the said Lock Keeper ... at Stamford Bridge, such sum of Money as shall be demanded, for every ton weight ... that shall be carried or conveyed in any such Boat, barge or Vessel, up the said River Derwent ..... or down the said River Derwent ... not exceeding Eight Shillings... Dated this 16th Day of June, 1807"
When the independent's election to Parliament was later declared to be invalid, he was replaced by the Earl's nominee. Tolls were then brought back to their original rates. (2000)
Anglers by Considerate Boater
If the angler is landing a big fish as you approach then stop! He/she will be grateful and it will be interesting to watch.
If you are about to moor up on a Friday or Saturday night and you can see fishing club markers on the towing path, you might be well advised to moor somewhere else. If there is a fishing competition the following day then you might get an early alarm call as they set up their equipment and also find your boat surrounded by anglers.
When you are passing, avoid such quips as "Have you got any chips to go with your fish". Some anglers are serious about their sport and they have probably heard all the humour before. (2008)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Cutter A hoop of brass fitted on the top of an upright
exhaust pipe on a motor boat to break the force of the exhaust when
passing beneath bridges or tunnels. It can be fitted on any length of
pipe. The brass hoop is aligned fore and aft.
Titch A
short exhaust pipe, usually but not necessarily fitted with a cutter,
used for tunnels and canals with low bridges to avoid damage.
Tall Pipe A long detachable pipe carrying a motor
boat's exhaust above the steerer's head, usually
fitted with a cutter.
Tipcat A large shaped rope fender
to protect the counter. Most ex-working narrow boats have two tipcats
and a smaller button fender at the stern.
Tippet A long
narrow strip of stout tarpaulin, laid along the top planks over the
top cloths to protect them from wear from the strings.
Top
Cloths Stout tarpaulins, usually in three sections, used to cover
a boat's hold when carrying perishable cargo. The front (or
mast) cloth has a square hole made in it to accommodate the towing
mast.
Windlass The metal crank used to operate paddles.
Often miscalled a 'lock handle' or
'paddle key' (2025)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
It was a glorious morning, late spring or early summer, as you care to take it, when the dainty sheen of grass and leaf is blushing to a deeper green; and the year seems like a fair young maid, trembling with strange, wakening pulses on the brink of womanhood.
The quaint back streets of Kingston, where they came down to the water’s edge, looked quite picturesque in the flashing sunlight, the glinting river with its drifting barges, the wooded towpath, the trim-kept villas on the other side, Harris, in a red and orange blazer, grunting away at the sculls, the distant glimpses of the grey old palace of the Tudors, all made a sunny picture, so bright but calm, so full of life, and yet so peaceful, that, early in the day though it was, I felt myself being dreamily lulled off into a musing fit.
I mused on Kingston, or Kyningestun as it was once called in the days when Saxon kinges were crowned there. Great Cæsar crossed the river there, and the Roman legions camped upon its sloping uplands. (1889)
188 Words For Rain by Alan Connor
On the edge of the Breckland heath, rain streams down the windows of a camper van. The rods to keep the windows open at a slant aren't up to the job any more, so the panes are propped out with cutlery. Much better to have them open, the air coming in, the drops plummeting off the end and flying away from the vehicle.The stable-door arrangement is likewise suitable for rainy days (unlike the skylight). The top half open, the bottom closed. It's almost like being outside. It's peppering (#163, falling hard) and thight (#164, dense, when used of rain or of reeds).
This rain is decidedly sluicy (#165, descending as if a
ship canal's gates have been winched open and a
lock's worth of pent-up water is enjoying its freedom), but
the sound from the radio cuts through.
... showers, squally
at first. Good...
... wintry showers. Good...
... thundery showers. Good…
Every time the showers are - apparently - described as Good, laughter. They're aware that the Good refers to some other thing (it does: visibility), but the joke works especially well on a bangey day. When the forecast is finished, conversation returns... to the weather. (2024)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Crossing Scotland by canal and loch
The canals,
rivers and lochs of Scotland offer a different type of holiday from
one on England's narrow canals. Only two Scottish canals,
the Crinan and the Caledonian, are now in use, apart from a 30 mile
stretch of the old Union Canal which runs west from Edinburgh.
Because old bridges are permanently lowered the Union is used only
for towpath walks, fishing and canoeing.
The Crinan Canal is a 9 mile short-cut used by sea-going vessels, and has no facilities for hiring pleasure craft. The Caledonian Canal is a 60 mile waterway with 22 miles of canal and 29 locks running right across Scotland, connecting lochs Ness, Oich, Lochy and Linnhe. The canal runs through dramatic Highland scenery, the boats passing almost within the shadow of Ben Nevis. At three places, Banavie, Fort Augustus and Inverness, the locks are in flights. At Banavie there is a flight of 8 locks, known as Neptune's Staircase, lifting sea-going vessels 64 ft.
There are numerous swing bridges, all manned, crossing the canal, including two railway swing bridges through which commercial traffic usually has priority. The canal passes vessels of 150 ft long by 35 ft beam and 13 ft 6 in. draught. The canal speed limit is 6 mph, and unrestricted on open waters. All the locks are large and operated by keepers. (1982)
WORKING ON SHIFTING SANDS by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
Our roads are now overcrowded – everyone who uses them knows this. In a region where there is much heavy industry, and good access to water transport, it makes sense to move bulk goods by barge. Acaster's Water Transport who, amongst other activities, recently transported newsprint from Goole to the Yorkshire Evening Press in York (regrettably, this now goes by road), is a small family business which manages to survive in an uncertain world.
Graham Acaster and his wife might work in Goole Docks on Little Shifta and Little Shuva, or on the Trent with their son Karl and his mate Vic Roberts, who shift bulk loads of gravel to Goole from Rampton. But the riverside quarry here is now nearing the end of its operational life, and Acaster's have adapted their boats River Star, Twite and Poem 24 at Waddington's yard to create a 600-ton barge taking the name River Star, in the expectation of efficiently moving aggregates from a new quarry at Muddy Bank, near Cromwell Lock. As this is written, there now seems to be some last-minute doubts about using water transport in this new venture, in spite of the government's protestations to the contrary. For the sake of the environment, let us hope this scheme goes ahead. (2000)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Panama Canal
After £60 million had been spent on the
abortive 1879-1888 project, the USA Government later became
interested. During the Spanish-American War of 1898, the Americans
had discovered how crippling it was to have their fleet divided
between the Atlantic and the Pacific, with a journey of thousands of
miles between them. Colombia, however, to whom Panama belonged, was
unfriendly; but when Panama revolted and separated from Colombia, the
USA. Government at once bought up the canal company, the local
railway, and a strip of land 10 miles wide along the line of the
canal; and in 1904 work was begun.
When the canal was opened in 1914, it had cost the United States about £75 million. In 1915, 1,072 commercial vessels passed through; by 1927 the number had increased to nearly 5,500. In consequence the income from ship dues rose steadily, and the canal, so disastrous in its early history, became a financial success as well as a tremendous contribution to communications. (1957)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
One sees a good many funny incidents up the river in connection with towing. One of the most common is the sight of a couple of towers, walking briskly along, deep in an animated discussion, while the man in the boat, a hundred yards behind them, is vainly shrieking to them to stop, and making frantic signs of distress with a scull.
Something has gone wrong; the rudder has come off, or the boat-hook has slipped overboard, or his hat has dropped into the water and is floating rapidly down stream. He calls to them to stop, quite gently and politely at first. “Hi! stop a minute, will you?” he shouts cheerily. “I’ve dropped my hat over-board.” Then: “Hi! Tom—Dick! can’t you hear?” not quite so affably this time. Then: “Hi! Confound you, you dunder-headed idiots! Hi! stop! Oh you—!” After that he springs up, and dances about, and roars himself red in the face, and curses everything he knows. And the small boys on the bank stop and jeer at him, and pitch stones at him as he is pulled along past them, at the rate of four miles an hour, and can’t get out.
Much of this sort of trouble would be saved if those who are towing would keep remembering that they are towing, and give a pretty frequent look round to see how their man is getting on. It is best to let one person tow. When two are doing it, they get chattering, and forget, and the boat itself, offering, as it does, but little resistance, is of no real service in reminding them of the fact. (1889)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Feeding by the waterside
Many small mammals are
semi-aquatic and search for food, mainly at night, both on land and
in water. They generally live near rivers or ponds - sometimes in
elaborate burrows excavated in the banks - or they inhabit nearby
trees, crevices or caves.
Water Vole Sometimes wrongly
called a water rat, the harmless 8in. long water vole feeds on
mussels, water snails, worms and various water plants.
Watter Shrew When searching under water for prey, the 4in.
long water shrew looks like an animated bubble because of air trapped
in its fur.
Daubenton's Bat This bat, also
known as the water bat, flies in slow circles over water soon after
sunset, frequently picking insects off the surface.
Mink
The 18in. long mink was introduced into Britain in 1929 for
commercial fur farming. Escaped animals now prey on poultry and
gamebirds. (1982)
Rivers Soar and Trent by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
Once the River Trent is reached the towpath comes to an abrupt halt and there is no right of way along the south bank of the river. Originally there would probably have been a bridge here; more recently there was certainly a ferry. Walkers and cyclists will have to retrace their steps and make a lengthy detour (4 mile north west of Ratcliffe Lock take the footpath south west to eventually cross under the motorway - then north, under the motorway again, meeting the Trent at Sawley Marina) if they wish to follow the waterways system further. This is a pity as it is the only break in an otherwise continuous path linking London to Nottingham and the Humber estuary to the north east and Burton on Trent, and ultimately Manchester, in the north west.
Boats negotiating the junction of the rivers Soar and Trent should keep well away from Thrumpton Weir, which is just east (downstream) of the big iron railway bridge. Navigators are reminded that the main line of the Trent Navigation is the Cranfleet Cut. This begins 200yds upstream of the mouth of the Soar, right by the large, wooden build- ing which houses one of the many sailing clubs on the Trent. The entrance to the Erewash Canal is also here, marked by a lock and a cluster of buildings. If the warning light at Redhill Lock shows red - do not pass. (2000)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
The aqueducts, tunnels and bridges of Britain's canal system are among the most impressive engineering feats of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. All were built by manpower, an army of workmen called navigators - hence the origin of the word 'navvies' - with only the occasional help of horses and steam pumps.
Aqueducts One masterpiece of engineering which survives is the 1000ft long Pontcysyllte Aqueduct on the Shropshire Union Canal. Its cast-iron trough perched on slender stone piers carries boats 120ft up across the Dee Valley. The plans of this bridge by Thomas Telford were greeted with derision by his contemporaries - until it was opened in 1805. Even today the dovetailed joints in the iron trough hardly leak. A magnificent three-arched aqueduct carries the Peak Forest Canal 100ft above the River Goyt at Marple Beyond is a railway bridge.
Tunnels The towpath ends at the entrance to most tunnels. A boat was pushed through by legging - two men would lie on boards and push with their feet on the tunnel walls.The longest tunnel, now disused, is at Standedge on the Huddersfield Narrow Canal. It runs for 5456yds through the Pennines, at times 600ft below ground. The last tunnel to be built was the 3027yd long Netherton Tunnel on the Birmingham Canal Navigations, which was opened in 1858. It was lit throughout by gas and later by electricity. It has a towpath on each side, unlike most tunnels which do not have a towpath at all.
Bridges Adding to the beauty of the canal scene are the flowing lines of hundreds of bridges varying from hump-backed stone structures to gracefully curving cast-iron ones. Probably the most attractive are the roving bridges which enabled a barge horse to cross from a towpath on one side of the canal to the other. (1982)
Canal & River Trust Boaters' Update by Damian Kemp
THRIFT Things we can all do to help stretch out precious water resources.
- Two in a lock? Share locks
- Help keep it in. Make sure gates and paddles are shut
- Report any leaks to us
- Invite oncoming boats through. Don’t empty or fill locks if someone else can make use of the water
- Find another favourite. Explore less busy parts of our network
- Think ahead. Plan cruises to minimise use of locks
Lock Gate Signs by Canal & River Trust
Remember the THRIFT Code
TWO IN A LOCK - Wherever
possible, please wait for another boat to join you in the lock, which
will save thousands of gallons of water. It can be easier to tie up
abreast so one engine is taking both boats through the lock.
HAVE YOU SHUT UP? - After leaving a lock, ensure all paddles
and gates have been closed to conserve water. Don't let
paddles drop as this will damage them - wind them back into the
closed position.
REPORT ANY LEAKS - If you see any
damage or vandalism to paddles/gates, please report to CRT staff or
use the website.
INVITE ONCOMING BOATS THROUGH - If a
lock is set against you, (if it is full and you want it empty, and
vice versa), and there is a boat in sight, please allow them through
first. Keep checking ahead and behind you to see what is happening.
FOLLOW ADVICE - CRT employees and volunteers are here to
help you on your journey, and maintain water levels to keep the
canals moving.
THINK AHEAD - Plan to "lock
wheel" through flights if possible, but always check who is
ahead or behind you to use locks efficiently. (2012)
Rivers Wharfe and Witham by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
River Wharfe
Although in theory navigable for just
over 9 miles to Tadcaster Weir, this is not advisable without local
knowledge. The lower reaches are not particularly attractive and
shallows around Ulleskelf, known locally as huts, are one of the
problems you may encounter.
River Witham - He Who Laughs Last
... The line of a
dismantled railway closely follows the north bank of the River Witham
– it was opened on 17 October 1848 following an agreement between
the proprietors of the navigation and the Great Northern Railway
company, which leased the river for 999 years at £10,545 per annum.
The competition between steam packet boats and railway trains was
intense, with the railway ultimately providing fourth-class
carriages at the fare of a halfpenny per mile, undercutting anything
the boats could do, and finally putting them out of business in 1863.
Railway trains also took freight from the river - 19,535 tons of coal
passed through the Grand Sluice at Boston in 1847 but, after the
railway opened, this had fallen to 3,780 tons in 1854. A large
railway warehouse was built in 1897 alongside Brayford Pool in
Lincoln, with a branch dock to provide shipment facilities. But swans
now occupy what was the dock, and the railway is no more. The River
Witham, made navigable by the Romans, flows quietly on. (2000)
The Book of Trespass by Nick Hayes
The open fields have morphed into the back gardens of the terraced housing on the outskirts of Reading. Something about rivers draws out the eccentricity of the English, and each plot here is decorated in a ramshackle, water-weathered style. There are stone owls, plastic herons, driftwood sheds, old rusted benches and bunting, blanched by the sun and rain, all sunk in glorious profusions of bindweed and buddleia. As I get closer to the heart of the town, the shallows are clogged with Locozade bottles, discarded shopping trolleys, Walkers' crisp packets bleached and leached of their colour, and along the scrubby banks, every twenty yards or so, the fishermen.
Their long trail lines extend, almost invisible, out in the river, and I have to manoeuvre my kayak to avoid their hooks. I try a cheery Enid Blyton-style hallo! to the various characters attached to the rods, and am met with stony silence. Further down the river I change gear to a gruffer, more macho how do, the kind of surly non-invasive tone appropriate to pub urinals, but this is equally fruitless.
As the Kennet winds through Reading town, its banks turn to concrete, foliage disappears and the sounds of police sirens and traffic smother the birdsong. Before meeting the Thames, it cuts through the Oracle shopping centre, which has a loud, sticky grot to it. I slide past barges, boats and packed public houses, under the railway bridge and out into the dizzying breadth of the Thames. (2020)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Canoe
This word is derived from a Caribbean word for
boat, and comes to the English language through the Spanish
canoa. It is a word, therefore, which takes the modern
reader's mind back to the days of the Elizabethan
adventurers and the buccaneers of the Spanish Main, who used to meet
at sea the native Caribs in their rude boats.
Today the word canoe has a very wide meaning: indeed, it is only possible to hint at a definition, for the varieties are infinite. A canoe, then, is a small boat propelled by paddle or sail, which is primitive in design, probably long and narrow, and usually open from end to end. Craft which can be called canoes are used by peoples all over the world.
Canoes are made from all sorts of materials. The simplest are constructed of reeds, such canoes being found on lakes in South America and in Africa on the upper Nile. The best-known type of river canoe is probably the birch-bark used by the American Indians of the North. The Iroquois are expert canoe-builders. A wooden skeleton is made, and is covered with the bark of the birch tree laid on, not lengthwise but transversely, and the thin sheets are sewn together with long, pliant pine roots. The seams are rendered watertight with gum from the balsam tree. Birch-bark canoes are very light and are easily carried. They vary in size from the 36-foot canoe, with a crew of sixteen paddlers, besides a bowman and a steersman, to the light hunting canoe, 12 feet long, paddled by one man. These canoes have no keel, stem, or stern-post, nor is a single nail or peg used in their construction. Long voyages are made in them through river and lake, and a sail is sometimes set when the wind is fair. But these canoes are very unstable. (1957)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Beauty by accident and design
Beside the canals and
locks are fascinating examples of accidental sculpture. These are the
bollards, of wood or metal, used for tying up boats. Some of the
wooden bollards have acquired fantastic shapes where ropes have cut
into them. The scorching and searing of mooring ropes running over
the woodwork for decades have sculpted bollards into weird designs.
It was traditional for bargemen to give their barges individuality by colourful decorations. The intricate flower designs and elaborate printing of barge names gave an individual stamp to the families who spent their lives on canals. Names surrounded by flowers were painted on the cabins, and tillers were adorned with whitened rope in nautical tradition. On the decorated rudder post of a narrow boat, the entwined bands are called Turk's Head, the vertical piece a Swan's Neck, and the rudder post a Ram's Head.
Although rare today, a horse's tail may sometimes be seen flowing from a rudder post. This tradition is believed to have begun when a boating family, losing a cherished white horse, pinned its tail astern so that the beast's beauty, strength and virtue might go with them forever. (1982)
The Book of Trespass by Nick Hayes
The owner of a stretch of the River Kennet, Richard Benyon, has been a staunch defender of the rights of fishing. As the former Under Secretary of State for Fisheries and Natural Environment, he has come under fire for what some perceive to be a vested interest in supporting fishermen over other users of rivers.
In an interview with the Angling Times, he said: 'While we want more people to get out and enjoy activities in the countryside they must be complementary. There are plenty of places to canoe where it is appropriate and others where it is not. There will be no change to our policy of supporting voluntary access agreements as the only way forward.'
These are silky words. Once again, what is deemed appropriate is determined by what is deemed property. The construct that voluntary access is the only way forward smacks of obstinate paternalism. The notion that access to 3% of rivers is plenty has such rhetorical gall to it that it can only be described as Politicians' Cant. (2020)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
What conclusions can be drawn from our trips on the Swan? Mainly that the waterways are an atrophied shadow of their nineteenth-century selves. Their standards are considerably lower than those of the day they were built. The quantities of goods carried upon them are a pathetic fraction of the tonnage on our roads. Why is this so? I am convinced that it stems from a deep rooted malice and that the post-nationalization history derives from a decision taken within the Ministry of Transport long ago. Possibly the latest British Waterways authority, the British Waterways Board, is in fact sincere and honest in its statements; only time will show. The canal system of the Midlands has, however, been emasculated virtually beyond redemption and is now regarded as a leisure system only.
I would join those who plead for a Waterways Conservancy, which would take the canals out of the Ministry's hands and which could look after their best interests. This plan has been rejected by the Ministry. It is not insignificant that both the Stratford Canal and the Lower Avon are not in the Board's hands; they would still be unnavigable otherwise. It is essential though that any Conservancy should have a measure of independence with, say, a constitution empowering different interested bodies to elect their own members. At present on the nationalized waterways, the Minister can hire and fire the members of the Board, and deliberate himself on the future of any waterway. He nominates the Advisory Council which assists the Board in its deliberations. The Minister is all, in fact. They are not our waterways any more; they are his. (1971)
A.K.A. SUTTON'S STOP by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Birmingham & The Heart of England
Hawkesbury Junction was more commonly known to the boat people as Sutton's Stop. It took this name from a family called Sutton who, during the 1800s, were the toll clerks here.
The Greyhound overlooks the junction now as it did then. Corn, oats and maize used to be stored around the back of the pub, as feed for the towing horses. It was often the children's job to bag this up for a trip, lowering the sacks down using a small hand crane. (2000)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
The Waterway Code and Canal Language
One of the
pleasures of inland cruising is the freedom to go where you choose,
but there are several important rules of the road which must be
observed.
When meeting another craft pass on the right, except where it would be dangerous. For example, a laden working boat may need the deeper water on the outside of a bend, which will mean your passing on the left. The on-coming vessel will signal two horn blasts for you to do this. Overtake if possible on a straight stretch. Working boats or barges always have priority over pleasure craft; otherwise, priority at locks is on a 'first come, first served' basis, except when the water level in the lock is in favour of a craft seen approaching. Speed limits are laid down by each waterway authority. Never allow the wash waves to break on the banks. Slow down on bends, and when approaching or passing moored craft, other craft under way, anglers, bridges and tunnels.
The boat should be equipped with a white headlamp for tunnels and night cruising on canals. Full navigation lighting is obligatory on rivers and estuaries. Mooring is possible on most straight stretches but do not moor on bends or near locks and bridges. (1982)
The Book of Trespass by Nick Hayes
Paddlng a kayak, I get the distinct impression that I'm intruding. The fishermen have bought an exclusive right to sit on this riverbank, and here I am, with no licence in my pocket, bursting their bubble of dominion. Their purchased right of property has created a division between us where none is necessary: across the country, kayakers report stones and lead weights thrown at them, threats hurled, and some are still paying off thousands of pounds of court costs for cases they have lost against fishermen. The peaceful river has become a tetchy battleground, an incongruous world of binary opposition, imposed by the idea that one right supersedes all others because it has been purchased.
But of all the people on the river today, surely we have the most in common: we're here for the stillness, the gentle passing of time, the simple pleasure of being enveloped by nature. (2020)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
Twenty-eight years ago Mr JF Pownall proposed a Grand Contour Canal connecting Newcastle, Manchester, Southampton, Bristol and the Home Counties at the 310foot level. Such a waterway would serve the dual purpose of water supply and a barge route on the modern continental scale. The Ministry of Transport has never discussed this project. Instead it has successfully avoided the question; Mrs Castle's White Paper has diverted any further attention from converting our waterways into a modern freight-carrying system which could hold enormous social benefits. Today we talk about waterways for pleasure and haggle over the price of a lock gate. (1971)
The Book of Trespass by Nick Hayes
The Chief Executive of the Angling Trust, Mark Lloyd, said: "The law of the land is absolutely clear - there is no universal right for people to canoe on non-tidal waters." He commissioned a report by QC David Hart, who said the crux of a claim for Public Right of Navigation comes down to two points: first, whether the river is navigable and, second, whether it has been used as such for time immemorial - a romantic phrase that is actually very specific: in English law, the reach of memory goes back to 6 July 1189, the accession of Richard I.
Both aspects need to be proven before navigation rights can be acquired against riparian owners. The last four words show how the cards are stacked against the public. Just as trespass can reframe a walk in the countryside as an attack on the rights of property owners, so, too, public rights along rivers are described as being acquired and against the private rights of owners. Yet the only thing kayaking takes from fishing is its exclusivity. (2020)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
My earliest boating recollection is of five of us contributing threepence each and taking out a curiously constructed craft on the Regent’s Park lake, drying ourselves subsequently, in the park-keeper’s lodge. After that, having acquired a taste for the water, I did a good deal of rafting in various suburban brickfields — an exercise providing more interest and excitement than might be imagined, especially when you are in the middle of the pond and the proprietor of the materials of which the raft is constructed suddenly appears on the bank, with a big stick in his hand.
Your first sensation on seeing this gentleman is that, somehow or other, you don’t feel equal to company and conversation, and that, if you could do so without appearing rude, you would rather avoid meeting him; and your object is, therefore, to get off on the opposite side of the pond to which he is, and to go home quietly and quickly, pretending not to see him. He, on the contrary is yearning to take you by the hand, and talk to you. It appears that he knows your father, and is intimately acquainted with yourself, but this does not draw you towards him. He says he’ll teach you to take his boards and make a raft of them; but, seeing that you know how to do this pretty well already, the offer, though doubtless kindly meant, seems a superfluous one on his part, and you are reluctant to put him to any trouble by accepting it. (1889)
Forth & Clyde Canal by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
Conceived in the second half of the 18th Century, this canal was a source of controversy from the very outset, with two conflicting schemes born from somewhat differing concepts of the region's transport needs. The Glasgow faction argued for a small canal on the basis that most goods carried would be going to or from that city, while the Wise Men of the East, the Edinburgh merchants - took a less parochial view, maintaining that the navigation should be 'a proper canal' to serve 'national and universal' interests.
The Glasgow Bill was given its second reading in March 1767, yet within two months £100,000 had been subscribed for a great canal, and the supporters of the small canal agreed to drop their Bill in return for guarantees that a cut would be provided into the city. The canal, engineered by John Smeaton and surveyed by Robert Mackell, was to be between 7ft and 10ft deep and to run from an entry into the Clyde near Dalmuir to Grangeburnfoot (now Grangemouth), where the River Carron meets the Firth of Forth. Royal assent for the Bill was gained on 8 March 1768 and work was in hand within the year. (2003)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
The further up the Thames you go, the more Jeromey it becomes, ... (1971)
New Book of the Road by the Automobile Association
Sails on the Broads
The most striking feature of
Norfolk is its flatness. From its peak, only 329ft above sea level,
half a mile south-east of Beacon Hill, on the Cromer Ridge, can be
seen two differing but characteristic sides of Norfolk which are not
repeated anywhere else in Britain. To the north and west is a 100
mile sweep of coast which includes some of the most important nature
reserves in the country.
To the south-east from the Cromer Ridge, can be seen rivers meandering to form part of the Broads, which were formed centuries ago when pear diggings became flooded. Hickling, the largest Broad, is also the shallowest with a maximum depth of 5 ft. There are more than 30 Broads which, together with linked rivers. lakes and man-made waterways, provide about 200 miles of navigable water.
The Broads are a fascinating field of study for the naturalist and a playground for the angler, the yachtsman, the canoeist or a family hiring a motor launch from one of the many boat- yards on the Broads. (1982)
The Book of Trespass by Nick Hayes
In 2004, the Reverend Dr Doug Caffyn wrote a master's thesis entitled The Right of Navigation on Non-tidal Rivers and the Common Law which claimed that, between 1189 and 1600, there had been a right of public access to all rivers. This, he claims, is confirmed by Clause 33 of Magna Carta and again in the 1472 Act for Wears and Fishgarths.
Nigel Saul, a Professor of Medieval History at the University of London, delivered a lecture to Parliament in 2013 arguing that Clause 33 of Magna Carta was to be of enormous significance in the history of navigation in this country, because it established the principle of free passage along England's rivers. so laying the foundations for transport development in the Industrial Revolution.
Caffyn's dissertation sparked England's newest bout of Ownership Anxiety and was refuted in no uncertain terms by the fisher-kings. (2020)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
Gradually the British Waterways Board has showed itself to be more and more like its predecessors. Preoccupied with reducing the deficit, it has done so largely by cutting down on the maintenance, with Heaven knows what consequences later on - probably further closures, as the cost of restoration to even minimum standards should far outstrip any savings.
The Board was publicly pretending that its waterways were in good order and was even congratulated on its efficiency (by the Ministry). It gave much lip service to the prospect of expanded pleasure boating and, in as much as popular and Parliamentary opinion is at all cognizant of the waterways, has been regarded as doing a Good Job.
In detail its behaviour was more questionable. The Shrewsbury and Newport Canal, abandoned and virtually untouched for over twenty years, was savagely bulldozed and destroyed, at considerable expense, as soon as people wished to restore it. The Board claimed that redevelopment had already taken place (a little scanty rubbish dumping was the only evidence of this) and it chose to disagree with the restorationists' estimates (although the Board was not expected to pay). It considered the waterway too far gone and destroyed it.
Despite the joky references by officials to the inefficiencies of the Stratford restoration, the Stratford Canal is there for future generations; the Newport Arm is not. (1971)
Forth & Clyde Canal by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
The Forth and Clyde navigation was finally opened throughout in July 1790. Goods carried included timber, tobacco (until the Glasgow industry collapsed), cotton, grain, sugar and coffee.
The navigation also provided a speedy form of passenger transport between Glasgow and Edinburgh via Camelon, Grangemouth and thence down the Forth to Leith. This peaked in 1836 with approaching 500,000 people carried; the journey time between Port Dundas and Lock 16 was just five and a half hours.
The Scottish herring fleet was also able to move swiftly from coast to coast, responding rapidly to the appearance of fish in the firths of Clyde and Forth. Fifty-four boats passed through the waterway in December 1794 alone, all expected to return a few weeks later. Trials took place with steam-powered vessels, driven both by paddle wheels and later by propellers.
With the opening of the Union Canal in 1822 and subsequently its junction at lock 16 on the Forth and Clyde, passengers were conveyed between the two cities in around seven hours and goods in ten hours. (2003)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
The United States of America is a country of great rivers, of which the Mississippi river system is perhaps the most important.
The Mississippi, with its tributaries Missouri and Ohio, has over 6,000 miles of authorized navigable waterway, as well as many hundreds of miles on the other large tributaries, such as the Arkansas. During the present century much has been done to improve the natural rivers of the United States and Canada by canalization and to connect by canals the great natural waterways, especially the Great Lakes and the Ohio and Hudson Rivers. (1957)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
George never went near the water until he was sixteen. Then he and eight other gentlemen of about the same age went down in a body to Kew one Saturday, with the idea of hiring a boat. The tide was running out pretty rapidly when they reached the landing-stage, and there was a stiff breeze blowing across the river, but this did not trouble them at all.
There was an eight-oared racing outrigger drawn up on the stage; that was the one that took their fancy.
What then followed George is unable to describe in detail. He has a confused recollection of having, immediately on starting, received a violent blow in the small of the back from the butt-end of number five’s scull, at the same time that his own seat seemed to disappear from under him by magic, and leave him sitting on the boards. He also noticed, as a curious circumstance, that number two was at the same instant lying on his back at the bottom of the boat, with his legs in the air, apparently in a fit.
They passed under Kew Bridge, broadside, at the rate of eight miles an hour. Joskins being the only one who was rowing. George, on recovering his seat, tried to help him, but, on dipping his oar into the water, it immediately, to his intense surprise, disappeared under the boat, and nearly took him with it. And then “cox” threw both rudder lines over-board, and burst into tears.
How they got back George never knew. (1889)
NEW JUNCTION CANAL by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
This waterway, completed in 1905, provides a link between the South Yorkshire Navigations and the Aire & Calder Navigation. It is 5½ miles long and completely straight all the way, the monotony being broken only by a series of swing and lift bridges.
There are aqueducts at each end of the long corridor formed by the navigation, the one in the south carrying the canal over the River Don. Both aqueducts are equipped with tall guillotine gates, which serve either to isolate the canal in times of flood, or to facilitate repairs. Moorings are available to the north of Kirkhouse Green Bridge, and to the north of Sykehouse Bridge. (2000)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
Upon nationalization, in 1947, all waterway development stopped. No further experiments were made with wide boats, no more expansion was contemplated; the Grand Union, like all the other 'narrow' canals, petrified then rotted. The British Waterways Board has claimed that this recent decline has been purely an economic one, that, to quote its own phrase, natural selection works. Natural selection worked on the Grand Union as on all other narrow canals, in a failure to seek traffic, and in a failure to modernize or even maintain. As we have seen, dredging has been sporadic and heartless for many years.
There have been silly matters like the burying of perfectly sound boats at the taxpayer's expense, in the gravel pits at Harefield. There have been ludicrous ones like the failure to countenance cargoes of silk stockings from Leicester to London on the grounds that they were too light, that no toll could be quoted (the legal obligation to publish tolls being unfulfilled) and that no wharf existed for unloading (City Road Basin, on the Regents Canal, having been handed over to British Road Services).
There have been countless instances of rebuttal of trade and of neglect, plus an almost total failure to advertise, apart from some pathetically half-hearted attempts in the 1950s. Certainly there is little evidence of large-scale investment to parallel the electrification of the London to Birmingham railway or the M1 motorway. At the time of writing, there survives only a tiny handful of narrow boats, which can barely make ends meet. (1971)
LOCH LOMOND by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
Loch Lomond is a huge body of water, contained in a deep, narrow, rocky trench to the north and a shallow, spreading basin in the south. At 27½ square miles it has the largest surface area of any freshwater mass in Great Britain and daily supplies 100 million gallons of water to neighbouring populations. This rate of abstraction represents a drop of ¼ inch in the loch's level. By volume it is the second largest lake in the country (92,805 million cubic ft) and was created by a glacier, some 10,000 years ago, heading south past Ben Lomond. The upper reaches, less than 1 mile wide and up to 623ft deep, represent a typical fjord landscape, while the area between Luss and Balloch is pure terminal moraine: debris deposited by the melting ice giving rise to shallows, islands (38 identified by name) and a width of over 4 miles. Loch Lomond is crossed by the Highland Boundary Fault Ridge with the effect that both Highland and Lowland scenery are represented in the area, further enriching the visual medley, (2003)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Leggers
Men whose job it was to leg boats through
tunnels. At Braunston and Blisworth tunnels the demand for work as a
legger was so much, and the institution of a sort of protection
racket was sufficiently anti-social, for the Company to introduce a
system of registration for leggers and such leggers were issued with
special armbands.
This system lasted from 1829 until the institution of tunnel tugs in 1871. Leggers earned approximately two to three times as much as a farm labourer. A loaded boat would take some 90 minutes at the most to pass through Blisworth tunnel, with a minimum time of 30 minutes for an empty or light-loaded boat and a legger might make as many as four trips a day, although two seemed to be the norm. The rate was 6d for an empty and 9d loaded. A naval or army pensioner at that time had to live on 6d per day and a private soldier or naval rating earned 1s.
Not surprisingly, men fought to become leggers and established a protection racket. The work was boring rather than arduous. Once a loaded boat is moving it can be kept going fairly easily. The work is hardest on the ankles. (2025)
Pepys' Diary by Samuel Pepys
18May1661 Towards Westminster, from the Towre, by water, and was fain to stand upon one of the piers about the bridge, before the men could drag their boat through the lock, and which they could not do till another was called to help them.
Being through bridge I found the Thames full of boats and gallys, and upon inquiry found that there was a wager to be run this morning. So spying of Payne in a gully, I went into him, and there staid, thinking to have gone to Chelsy with them. But upon the start, the wager boats fell foul one of another, till at last one of them gives over, pretending foul play, and so the other row away alone, and all our sport lost. So, I went ashore, at Westminster. (18 May 1661)
Origins by Nicholson Waterways Guide Norfolk Broads
The Broads (the Norfolk and Suffolk Broads) are one of Britain's best-known holiday boating areas. They make up Britain's largest and most important protected wetland and are a national park providing a home to some of the rarest plants and animals in the country. A unique and enchanting wetland, with over 200 km (125 miles) of lock-free, navigable tidal waters, all waiting to be explored.
For a long time, the origins of the broads were not properly understood. In 1952 Dr J M Lambert advanced the theory that these waterways were, in fact, man-made: a suggestion received with scepticism. However, researchers discovered that the sides of the broads were vertical, not gently sloping as would be the case with a naturally formed lake: evidence that these immense areas of water had originally been dug by hand. This was supported by the knowledge that there had been a massive demand for peat in the area, which by the 14th-century was both densely populated and prosperous. (2010)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
The Government wants to encourage people to make use of the inland waterways for leisure and recreation, tourism and sport. Many waterways are well used for pleasure boating; and rowing, canoeing and sailing are widespread. Angling is very popular. Much larger numbers of people use the waterways for informal recreation such as walking, cycling and exploring the waterway heritage. The waterways are an important tourism resource, supporting a large holiday hire-boat industry. We will encourage their greater use for recreation; increased access for the young, disabled and disadvantaged; and better communication with the widest possible range of users. (June2000)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
A new British Waterways authority, the British Waterways Board, was appointed in 1963, inheriting the tatty and by now almost tradeless system upon which time had done its worst. It represented, or so we liked to hope, a new deal.
It was the first of the British Waterways controlling bodies to be independent of the railways, although it was by no means democratically appointed, being selected by the then Minister of Transport, Ernest Marples, and being responsible only to him. At the same time, much of the statutory protection was removed with the approval of Parliament, in the Transport Act of 1962.
Any appeals against Board decisions would have to be made to the Ministry which appointed and instructed the Board. Thus a highly dangerous situation was created. Any opponent of the Board was faced not only with the wily and evasive body that I believe it to have been, but had to fight the referee as well and usually to rules of the referee's own choosing. As a result the waterways, and also democracy, have been taking something of a beating. (1971)
Navvies 324 by Martin Ludgate
From the Archives: Glorious 1974!
Looking back
exactly half a century to 1974, a momentous year in the history of
waterway restoration,
Some of the issues of Navvies published in early 1974 reveals snippets that sound very familiar 50 years on. Inflation was making it difficult to carry on funding canal restoration work. Meanwhile there were concerns that "the deterioration of the state-owned waterways", attributed to "a short-sighted attempt to reduce deficits", while British Waterways Board (BWB), operator of most of the national waterways network, and predecessor of today's Canal & River Trust, was said to have a "bleak future" as it was not only strapped for cash but "practically all of its good, experienced, long-term staff were to retire in the next two years".
The Navvies editor reserved his biggest stick for the Government: "those who dole out the money, and continue to keep waterways, and practically every other worthwhile asset this country has, denuded of finance, encouragement, or hope." (April-May 2024)
Forth & Clyde Canal by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
It was competition from the railway - in this instance the Edinburgh & Glasgow opened in 1842 - that heralded the Lowland canals' decline. Brilliantly engineered, it is one of the flattest sections of track in Britain, 15 miles being dead level. Although a lowland railway, deep cuttings, one an interminable 4 miles long near Linlithgow, were constructed, all of which ensured that from the outset neither canal could successfully compete for traffic.
Judged on the dividends paid out on shares issued, the Forth & Clyde Canal was a financial success throughout the 19thCentury, achieving as much as 30% dividend in 1839. Although the physical construction of the aqueducts limited increases in the size of the navigation to accommodate larger boats, passenger traffic - especially pleasure-boats - remained buoyant, despite the railway, until well into the 20thCentury. Traffic declined substantially after World War II, limited largely to tankers carrying oil products from Grangemouth to Clydeside, pleasure-boats and fishing-boats. The canal was officially closed on 1 January 1963.
In March 1999 National Lottery Funding was procured to re-open the navigation and the process of decay was reversed: new cuts have been engineered, blockages circumnavigated and more than 30 bridges rebuilt to reinstate the coast-to-coast waterway we see today. (2003)
Derwent Tolls by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
A HALF-PRICE OFFER ON KELP AND LING – BUT FEW TAKERS
Much
of the material used to construct the York & North Midland
Railway's York & Scarborough line, opened in 1845,
was carried on the Derwent - a last flush of trade on the river
before an inevitable decline. Drastic toll cutting followed, but to
little effect:
- On Coal, Slack and Cinders – 4d per Ton, instead of 10d
- On Flour and Shelling – 4d per 20 Stone, instead of 6d
- On Bones, Cobbles, Flints, Horns, Shoddy, Guano, Nitrate of
Sods – 1s 6d per Ton, instead of 2s 6d
- On Carrots, Potatoes, Fullers Earth, Kelp, Ling, Oil-Cake,
Pipe-Clay – 1s 6d instead of 3s
- On Alum, Copperas, Fish, Iron of all descriptions, Woad, Chicory – 2s per Ton, instead of 3s
The 70 or so barges which worked to Malton in 1855 had reduced to a single craft by 1894. Between 1921 and 1935 the London & North Eastern Railway took responsibility for the navigation, and administered its ultimate commercial decline. (2000)
NABO News Issue 6 by River Canal Rescue
In a bid to reduce the number of cases of sticky fuel, River Canal Rescue advises boaters to change their winter fuel storage strategies. Sticky fuel is unrelated to the usual fuel contaminants and causes injection pump racks to seize, fuel injector and filter head plungers to fail, and return lines to block. RCR says a common denominator in all reported cases is the use of fuel treatments. They in themselves are not at fault; but surmise there may be a link with fuel and chemical breakdown when they've been stored for a while. With fuel suppliers advising diesel only has a shelf life of around six months and chemicals starting to break down after this time, RCR is urging boaters to take notice of this new information and take action.
Over winter, where previously RCR would advise to fill tanks to prevent condensation build-up, best practise now is to leave them empty, and upon return, drain off any water build-up, treat the remaining fuel and then add fresh. If using a fuel treatment, given that chemicals start to breakdown within six months and this is one of the contributing factors, use it within six to 12 months of purchase.
To help boaters identify a sticky fuel problem, RCR suggests taking a fuel sample and leaving it in a clear glass jar on a window cill in the light. Initially, the fuel will be clear, but after a couple of days, if it is affected, it will go from clear to cloudy. If boaters are worried about fuel or have symptoms consistent with sticky fuel, doing this test first may prevent having to dump the contents of the fuel tank (December 2024)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Harris said "I’m going to get out, and have a drink.” I pointed out to him that we were miles away from a pub.; and then he went on about the river, and what was the good of the river, and was everyone who came on the river to die of thirst?
It is always best to let Harris have his head when he gets like this. Then he pumps himself out, and is quiet afterwards. I reminded him that there was concentrated lemonade in the hamper, and a gallon-jar of water in the nose of the boat, and that the two only wanted mixing to make a cool and refreshing beverage. Then he flew off about lemonade, and “such-like Sunday-school slops”, as he termed them, ginger-beer, raspberry syrup, &c., &c. He said they all produced dyspepsia, and ruined body and soul alike, and were the cause of half the crime in England.
He said he must drink something, however, and climbed upon the seat, and leant over to get the bottle. It was right at the bottom of the hamper, and seemed difficult to find, and he had to lean over further and further, and, in trying to steer at the same time, from a topsy-turvy point of view, he pulled the wrong line, and sent the boat into the bank, and the shock upset him, and he dived down right into the hamper, and stood there on his head, holding on to the sides of the boat like grim death, his legs sticking up into the air. He dared not move for fear of going over, and had to stay there till I could get hold of his legs, and haul him back, and that made him madder than ever. (1889)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
As good navigable rivers provide a cheap form of transport, especially for heavy goods, the great rivers of the continent of Europe have had an important influence on the commerce in the countries they serve. Large continental rivers, now mainly controlled by the State or even by an international commission, have been improved and canalized from early times, and vast sums have been expended in keeping them up to date.
The Rhine, nearly 800 miles long, is the most important river in western Europe, serving as it does Holland, France, Germany, and Switzerland, with connexions to Belgium. It is a very busy route, with many inland ports of some size, such as Duisburg and Cologne. Mannheim and Strasbourg have large inland docks, and the Ruhr area, through which the river passes, has been the heart of industrial Germany. The Rhine Barges are an economical form of transport for the heavy raw materials and goods of this manufacturing region. Since 1815 the Rhine has been under the control of a permanent international commission, whose duty it is to watch over the interests of the countries concerned in the navigation.
The Danube is another river controlled by an international commission - the European Commission of the Danube, which was set up in 1856 after the Crimean War. This great river, which is navigable from the Black Sea right into Germany, links the capital cities of Belgrade, Budapest, and Vienna, as well as great river ports such as Bratislava and Turnu Severin. It is connected by canals both to the Rhine and the Elbe.
The Volga, the longest European river, has been an important trade route for many centuries. It connects the trade route for great industrial cities such as Stalingrad, Saratov, and Gorki, and is linked by canal to Moscow, to the River Don, and to the Baltic and White Sea. (1957)
plaque by Braunston Marina
WILLOW WREN CANAL CARRYING CO
DAVID BLAGROVE MBE 1937-2016
THIS PLAQUE COMMEMORATES HIS BRAUNSTON YEARS
1962-2016
FIRSTLY AS A WORKING BOATMAN FOR THE WILLOW WREN CANAL CARRYING
COMPANY
1962-1964
AND THEREAFTER AS A BRAUNSTON CANAL HISTORIAN & WATERWAYS ENTHUSIAST
HE ATTENDED ALL THE BRAUNSTON BOAT SHOWS
1991-1999
INTRODUCING THE RALLY OF HISTORIC NARROWBOATS & ALL THE
BRAUNSTON HISTORIC NARROWBOAT RALLIES IN HIS LIFETIME
2003-2016 (2020)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Fore end The front or bows of a canal boat.
Back
Door A door in the rear end of a boat's hold (or the
fore end of a cabin).
Back End The rearmost part of a
boat's hold.
Back End beam The rearmost cross
beam in a boat's hold, sometimes called the cabin beam.
Back End line A rope attached to a ring on the back-end
rail of a working motor boat.
Back End rail A metal rail
on a motor boat running from side to side on the leading edge of the
cabin, usually with a metal ring on it. Erroneously called
'welly rail'.
Ellum The steering
mechanism of a narrow boat (the rudder and tiller).
Answer/Anser Pins Hooks and shackles at the stern of a boat at
gunwale level used for strapping or breasting up.
Engine
'Ole The engine room of a narrow boat. (2025)
plaque by Braunston Marina
BRAUNSTON MARINA
This plaque commemorates the Braunston
years 1946 - 1951 of
George Smith 1915 - 2012
& Sonia Rolt OBE 1919 - 2014.
As husband and wife they worked as boatmen for canal carriers
Samuel Barlow Coal Co Ltd based at this yard.
Their boats were
mainly the motor CAIRO and butty WARWICK
on which they also
campaigned for the Inland Waterways Association in its formative
years. (2018)
Our Canal Heritage (Glossary) by Historic Narrow Boat Club
Cratch, crutch A shelf at the fore end of a boat
immediately to the rear of the deck, originally used for storing
fodder (oats and hay) for horses, cratch's archaic meaning
is manger or a crib/rack for fodder. Latterly used for storing ropes,
tarpaulins etc
False Cratch An A-shaped framework
forming the rearward part of the cratch assembly. The rearmost
upright wooden frames are often painted with diamond designs.
Deckboard A triangular board, sitting on the breastock and
supporting the foremost top plank. Note: modern usage incorrectly
refers to the deckboard as the cratch.
Breastock,
Deck beam A curved beam at the after end of the fore deck that
prevents lockage water from spilling into the hold or boat's
bottom. It is customary for the deckboard to sit on top of this.
Bulk A decorative feature on the deckboard.
Deck The fore deck, commonly called the deck is the foremost
part of a narrow boat that acts as a locker for various items of
gear, and which is entered by means of a deck lid, a hinged hatch.
Stern deck is the rearmost part of a boat. On a butty or
horse boat the uppermost part forms a small triangular cupboard and
the lower part, accessed from the cabin, is used for storing
foodstuffs that need to be kept cool. The two are separated by a
small deck used by the steerer and forming the entrance to the cabin.
This is sometimes known as the hatches. (2025)
plaque by Braunston Marina
BRAUNSTON MARINA
This plaque is dedicated to the Collins
Jim Collins 1922-2004
Doris Collins (born
Grantham) 1922-2005
One of the three Braunston boatmen families
who worked the
canals to their end.
Lastly they carried coal
aboard paired narrowboats
Stanton and Belmont
on the Jam Ole Run from the
Midlands to London
until the trade ceased in October 1970
and with it the boatmen's way of life.
The Collins then tied up in what became Braunston Marina
and
lived the remainder of their lives on butty Raymond and then
cruiser Water Lily
afloat in the old way. (2007)
RIVER DERWENT by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
Prior to 1702 the River Derwent was navigable to Stamford Bridge. An Act in that year allowed locks to be built to make the river navigable to Scarborough Mills, although works were never carried out above Yedingham, and little trade developed above Malton.
Following the repeal of the 1702 Act in 1935, the navigation fell into disrepair, although pleasure craft continued to use sections of the river. New lower gates were fitted to Sutton Lock in 1972, and these are now owned by the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust.
Entry into the lower part of the river from the River Ouse is by way of Barmby Barrage Lock, controlled by the Environment Agency. The whole of the waterway covered by this book is a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), being considered one of the finest examples of a lowland river in the country. The seasonally flooded meadows around the lower reaches, known as the Derwent Ings, are of international importance for traditionally managed grassland communities and the species of wildfowl and wading birds supported. (2000)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
Things did not start too badly for BWB. As a gesture, the Board's Chairman, Sir John Hawton, who had a long record of service to the Ministry of Health, extended the long overdue system of licensing to narrow boats, although only for limited periods and upon certain routes. The Stourbridge restoration project began and the Inland Waterways Association (now with Aickman taking a back seat) entered a phase of co-operation with a body we all hoped was well-intentioned.
The enthusiasts tended to be bogged down, I believe, with the 'leisure' aspect and a new element entered in which the Board was no longer expected to pay to make good past official misdemeanours. Thus we saw the Board too co-operating and making only a part-payment for restoration of the Kennet and Avon, the Stourbridge Arm and the Brecon and Abergavenny Canal. All these projects, incidentally, have proceeded at such a snail's pace and in such a small-time manner that at the rate of the first few year's accomplishment the Kennet and Avon will take a hundred years to restore. All this, incidentally, on waterways which should legally never have fallen into disuse; the law however has been amended from time to time by Parliament to keep pace with each official failure to fulfil legal obligations. (1971)
Licences by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Nottingham, York & the North East
Since 1 January 1997, British Waterways and the Environment Agency have introduced the Boat Safety Scheme, setting technical requirements for good and safe boat-building practice. A Boat Safety Certificate or, for new boats, a Declaration of Conformity, is necessary to obtain a craft licence. For powered boats, proof of insurance for Third Party Liability is also required.
All craft using BW waterways must be licenced and charges are based on the length of the craft. This licence covers all navigable waterways under BW's control and in a few cases includes reciprocal agreements with other waterway authorities. BW and the Environment Agency are preparing an optional joint licence scheme to cover both authorities' waterways.
Permits for permanent mooring on the canals are also issued by BW. (2000)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
British Waterways' canal network offers the potential for transfers of water particularly in the direction of the relatively more stressed south and east of England, with relatively little need for engineering works in comparison with the construction of new pipelines or reservoirs. Parts of the system are already used to move untreated water to serve individual water companies: for example Bristol receives up to 60% of its water from the Gloucester & Sharpness Ship Canal, and the Llangollen Canal is used to supply North West Water.
Studies and pilot schemes have shown that water transfer on a wider scale than at present is technically and environmentally feasible but investment is likely to be needed to enable the infrastructure to serve its new function. British Waterways is currently examining ways in which it can implement its ideas for water transfer in joint ventures with private sector organisations. It is envisaged that any partnership will be based on the transfer of raw, and the distribution and sale of treated water which, where cost effective, will be of potable quality. British Waterways will continue to own and manage the waterway network while the private sector partner will bring finance, expertise in water treatment, distribution, sales and marketing, and customer management to the partnership. (June 2000)
Origins by Nicholson Waterways Guide Norfolk Broads
Historically, the Broads' economy was centred on agriculture and the profitable wool trade. The marshman's way of life exploited the natural landscape of the lowland river valleys by tending cattle, cutting reeds, building dykes and drainage mills, harvesting fish and hunting wildfowl. In the 16th-century, Norwich, after London, was the second largest city in England, its wealth built on wool, weaving, fishing, agriculture and general trade. There was a large export market from Norwich via Great Yarmouth and the waterways - natural and man-made - were major trading routes essential for communication and commerce, not only for meeting the large market for goods outside of the area but for local communication supplying the riverside settlements.
The distinctive Norfolk wherries were developed to navigate this area of rivers and lakes, and for several hundred years provided essential transport. The coming of the railways in the 1870s started the decline in commercial sailing, as the area's transport system was developed and cargo-carrying was transferred to the trains. However, the railways also opened up the Broads to recreation and enterprising wherry owners converted their vessels to accommodate passengers in order to make up lost income. Inhabitants of the Broads had always used the waterways for pleasure, alongside their day-to-day work and these early wherry conversions were the start of the tourism business that has continued to expand over the years and now sees around two million visitors enjoying the Broads annually. (2010)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
Anyone querying the position of the English canals as freight carriers is likely to be shown the Grand Union or the jaded Worcester and Birmingham and, with a laugh and a nudge, told how old and out-of-date they are. It is as if someone enquiring about motorways were shown the equivalent of a cart track.
I have heard British politicians (representatives of the Ministry) belittle the suggestion that we should emulate the continentals. We have been told that the European network is based on a broad system of rivers with the inference that ours is not (what then, for example, are the Kennet and the Avon?).
Incidentally, the Rhine, that oft-quoted example of the superior continental endowment, features in fact a rapid current, a hard winter and in time of drought, water shortages with shallow depths. Though many British canals were in poor shape upon nationalization, having suffered chiefly under the railways, the Grand Union was not so. It carried a heavy traffic in view of its size, chiefly in metals, coal, grain and other bulk goods. During the 1930s the Grand Union had gradually developed; money was poured in, the locks were widened, great fleets of narrow boats were built, a deepening programme was prepared. Upon nationalization, in 1947, all this stopped (1971)
Loch Lomond by Nicholsons Guide To The Waterways Scotland
Loch Lomond and its environs support an enormous and diverse ecology with several rare inhabitants. Included amongst its 19 species of fish is the Powan, a type of freshwater herring related to the salmon. Found only in one other location, its ancestors were trapped in the loch by the receding ice. There are also large pike which make a challenging catch, requiring no permit.
Water birds include greylag and barnacle geese, mute and whooper swans, oyster catchers, mallard and pintail. Amongst their land-based cousins, golden eagles, grouse, chaffinch and tree creepers are well represented.
An export from the lochside was high-quality slate bound for Paisley and Glasgow, first by river and later by rail, quarried at Slate Bay beside Camstraddan Point. South of Balmaha, sandstone paving slabs were also quarried and shipped south.
Today it is the tourist trade that provides the communities alongside the loch with their main source of income. It is a trade that makes many conflicting demands on the use of the loch, on its surroundings and on the environment in general, all of which have to be balanced up by the Loch Lomond Park Authority. The area has recently been designated National Park - reflecting the outstanding beauty of this timeless landscape, one of great richness and diversity. (2003)
Yorkshire Post by Alexandra Wood
Sun sets on barge operators after 200 years plying local
waterways
King of the barges, and commercial operator
John Branford, 80, has sold his three barges, marking the
beginning of the end of a family firm that has operated on
Yorkshire's waterways for over 200 years. The 500-tonne
ex-tanker barges, Farndale-H, Fossdale-H and
HumberRenown, which he converted into bulk transporters in
2005, will now return to service on the canal network under new
ownership.
The Branford family was operating barges before the Aire and Calder Navigation was built in 1823. Stories passed down over the generations say they started out taking barges to Hull to pick up china-clay and Belgian sand before returning to the potteries and glass-works in Knottingley, Ferrybridge and Castleford. Great grandfather John owned a fleet of 35 barges and his own shipyard in Knottingley and two lots of stables for the horses which pulled the vessels. (28 June 2025)
New Civil Engineer by Rob Hakimian
Network Rail has significant challenges in maintaining its unique Vazon Sliding Railway Bridge in Keadby, which works by sliding open to allow boats on the Stainforth & Keadby Canal to pass, before returning to its original position, enabling trains to continue with their journeys. The original bridge was built in the 1860s and was converted into a sliding bridge in 1925 and had extensive maintenance works in February 2024.
Network Rail had issues with the running rails of the structure. Due to a height discrepancy between the bridge’s running rails and the train wheels themselves, large metal plates were precision-welded to the rails to compensate for this. In August 2024, these welds developed cracks and one of the large plates became significantly distorted causing disruption to canal users. The bridge has continued to suffer breakdowns which have been exacerbated by thermal expansion. This has frustrated users of the canal, who have legal right of way, but often find the bridge stuck in its locked position, blocking the route.
Most recently it failed on 31 May, with Network Rail promising a reopening on 22 June. Shortly afterwards, it again became stuck in the open position; Network Rail engineers moved it back into closed position to allow the passage of trains – blocking the canal. It will only return to automatic operation in ambient temperatures below 15°C. (03 July 2025)
Pepys' Diary by Samuel Pepys
... and so by water to White Hall, by the way hearing that the Bishop of London had given a very strict order against boats going on Sundays, and as I come back again, we were examined by the Masters of the Company in another boat; but I told them who I was. [Secretary to the Admiralty] (Sunday 14 September 1662)
The Trouble With Canals by John Liley
Graham Palmer's previous few hours had been interesting, for the hired boat in which he travelled, the challengingly-entitled Flying Dutchman, had unexpectedly sunk on its way to the Old Swan at Netherton, the realest of the Real Ale pubs in the land. The propeller picked up that mixture of wire, plastic and discarded hosiery that is a speciality of the Midlands system. The voyage ground to a halt.
The boat was fitted with a weed hatch, which is a plate in the hull above the propeller. It is important, before opening this, to check its relationship with the water on the other side. Reminiscing, no doubt, about their lunchtime in the Old Plough at Kinver, the group gathered round. This was a mistake, their weight taking the all-important hatch those vital few millimetres farther down. The water came in, and the hatch, which was held by many bolts, jammed before it could be secured again.
So the boat, now, was being pumped dry, with the possessions on board wrung out or thrown away. The party itself spent the night with kindly householders they had got to know earlier. Graham, though, stayed buoyant. Fresh routes were waiting for him to conquer. (2017)
There is No Planet B by Mike Berners-Lee
How bad are boats?
Sea freight is over 30 times more
energy-efficient than air-freight - but you need to be a lot more
patient.
A cargo ship carrying a 15,000-tonne payload at 15
knots on a 6000-mile journey requires about 0.07kWh per tonne per
mile, provided you keep the speed down. So about twenty apples,
oranges or bananas can be brought to you by sea from that far away
for about the same energy cost as driving a car for one mile.
Sea freight allows dense populations in cold climates to eat food grown in sunny spacious places. Doubling the speed to 30 knots cuts the journey time from two weeks to one but water resistance goes up with the square of the speed, so energy use goes up four-fold. Patience Is Good. Sails, and solar panels on deck, are nice ideas and worth having, but turn out to produce only marginal gains. Today's boats are huge compared to the wind and sun energy that they can capture on board.
Air freight requires about 2.0kWh per tonne per mile, but can get there the same day. The tiny portion of goods that travel by air are mainly luxuries such as asparagus in winter and fast-fashion clothing.
Passenger travel could be the eco-friendly option, but sadly, much of the boat's efficiency is thrown overboard because people don't like to lie obligingly side-by-side like apples and bananas. The difference becomes extreme on a luxury cruise when everyone has to have a cabin, access to swimming pools, casinos, dining halls ,... Human sea travel still stacks up for short sea journeys, sailing boats, pedalos and rafts. (2019)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
There is scope to increase the amount of freight carried on the inland waterways. Most canals have not changed since they were built and cannot play a significant role in freight carrying though they are suitable for niche markets. However, some of the larger river navigations and canals still carry some freight and could take more traffic. The Government wants to encourage the transfer of freight from roads to waterborne transport. (June 2000)
Canal & River Trust Boaters' Update by Alex Hennessey
The conditions we’ve seen so far this year 2025 are putting pressure on the water supplies needed for navigation. The lack of rainfall is the primary driver for low flows and, in some areas, this is compounded by essential reservoir repairs required by legislation, which are temporarily reducing their water storage capacity. In addition, the Canal & River Trust is now required to comply with modern legally binding environmental conditions in place to protect rivers and streams which can limit the feed of water into the canal network, further reducing historic sources of water.
The canal network has a constant demand for water. Whilst boat passage through locks is an obvious use of water, evaporation and transpiration can see canals lose as much as an inch of water on hot summer days. An underlying sweetening flow is also always needed to support ecology and avoid canals turning stagnant. (4 July 2025)
South Yorkshire Opening by Waterways World
On Wednesday 1st June 1983 the official opening of the modernised Sheffield & South Yorkshire Navigation took place at Eastwood Lock, Rotherham. Despite very wet weather, a large crowd, including local dignitaries and various representatives of the media, gathered to witness the event. Sir Frank Price, Chairman of British Waterways Board, performed the ceremony, unveiling a commemorative plaque and declaring the waterway open. Then the Mayor of Rotherham, Councillor J. Allot, made a brief speech paying tribute to Sir Frank's achievements as Chairman of BWB, and renamed the lock 'Frank Price Lock'.
After the ceremony, a 500 tonne tanker barge, especially filled with water for the occasion, entered the lock, illustrating the size of vessels which are now able to navigate the waterway. (August 1983)
Bright Ideas for Boating - Waterways World by A Forward
- If they don't mind feeling a bit of a prat,
spectacle-wearers can help keep rain off their glasses by wearing a
bank-teller's eyeshade or a sou'wester worn
back-to-front.
- To help prevent windows streaming with condensation, wipe them
with a sponge moistened with a drop of fairy liquid or
similar.
- A rubber car mat provides an excellent non-slip mat when screwed
to the bottom of steps or to cockpit soles.
- Alternating bands of red and yellow insulation tape around the
handles of windlasses and club hammers make them readily visible in
long grass and reduce the risk of leaving them behind.
- Single-handers can pass a tow rope through the slats of a wide
pedestrian bridge over a lock tail by making a hook out of a wire
coat hanger, passing the thin hook through the slots between the
plank and then hooking the tow-rope over it: slide the wire along the
slot. Also useful on the Stratford Canal where the original tow-rope
slot is too narrow due to bridge subsidence.
- With an off-set tunnel lamp on a longish boat, a piece of stiff wire with a twist of aluminium foil on the end is a useful marker if arranged to project above coach-roof level and to just catch the lamp's beam, giving the steerer early notice of any tendency to zig-zag.
Portable Shower - Waterways World by Bridget Taylor
For a portable shower on boats without room for a built-in shower, simply use a pump-pressurised garden weed-sprayer (preferably new and previously unused for designated purpose) supported above head height. Either fill it with hot water, or cold water and leave in the sun to solar heat (most successful if tank is painted black).
A similar shower can be made from a jerry can with a shower head and pipe attachment, attached to the outlet hole. Once filled with hot water, it needs to be inverted and suspended above head height. You will find the bottom of the tank needs to be vented, so drill a small hole and cork it, removing cork when showering. (December 1992)
Single-handed Mooring - Waterways World by J S Foulkes
Make a spike which does not need a hammer to drive it into the ground wiith a cheap old garden fork; cut the handle and part of the metal socket that holds the handle, and replace the 'D' (or cross handle) on to the now-shortened handle and screw a cleat hook on to the side.
Jump off the boat with a centre rope, stamp the fork into the ground and wrap the rope round the handle and cleat hook. With the four prongs it holds well in soft ground. (November 1992)
Winter Weedhatch Visits - Waterways World by R C Mungham
When winter's cruising and having to go down the weedhatch to remove that stubborn plastic bag or a piece of rope that takes you a long time in the freezing water: a kettle of boiling water poured into the weedhatch stays warm for quite a long time, thus making the job a little pleasanter. (December 1992)
History of the Cut Bridge by Yorkshire Sculpture Park
The formation of the Cut
In the second half of the
18th century, the Bretton Estate's owner, Sir Thomas
Wentworth, was developing the pleasure grounds and amenities of his
gardens and park. Not content with what he called his little
lake, which began in the late 1760s, he announced that the
following year work would begin on the Great Lake and a new
canal.
The canal engineer Luke Holt began work in 1775, digging out the lake and constructing a channel, called the Cut, to carry the River Dearne alongside the old and new lakes to control the water level. In part the Cut replaced an earlier goit, and as well as controlling the flow of water into the lake it provided power for a blast furnace downstream. There was still plenty of activity in early 1779 with floods early in 1781 causing damage to the cascades, but the lake kept full of water and a dry summer allowed masons to carry out repairs to the waterworks.
It seems likely that by the early 1780s there was a permanent bridge crossing the Cut, at the waist between the upper and lower lakes, which formed a key part of the design and function of the gardens and pleasure grounds. The current ornamental and private garden bridge had a significant history as a public vehicular river-crossing and shows how a landowner could change public rights of way in pursuit of private developments. (2010)
The Trouble With Canals by John Liley
Runcorn Locks
(1969) There were still folk around
then who saw canals as things to be rid of. In the hall I sat next to
a man, a public-spirited guy to be sure, who told me that in Runcorn,
where he was a councillor, the locks had been properly filled in.
This splendid flight, described by Josiah Wedgwood as
'the work of titans' had been obliterated in
order to build a slip road. The locks were destroyed, my informant
declared, 'because nobody wanted to keep
them'. (2017)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Barge The term includes a great variety of vessels in use
on canals, rivers, estuaries, and in coastal waters. The last include
a few sailing vessels, often with an auxiliary engine. The name is
sometimes given to all craft carrying goods on a canal or river; but,
strictly speaking, these are either narrow boats of not more
than 7 feet in the beam, or barges, with a beam about twice as great.
Narrow Boat or Monkey Boat as it is often called, after Thomas Monk (1765-1843), the inventor and first builder of the small canal cabin-boat, is possibly the commonest craft on inland waterways in England. This is because the Locks on the group of canals in the Midland counties between the four main estuaries of Mersey, Humber, Thames, and Severn can only pass a boat about 7feet wide and 70feet long, with an average loaded draught of about 3ft6in. These boats generally travel in pairs the one, a motor-boat, propelled by an 18hp diesel engine, and the other, a boat without an engine, known as a dumb or butty boat. The boats carry about 50tons between them. (1957)
Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome
I have discovered an excellent preventive against sea-sickness, in balancing myself. You stand in the centre of the deck, and, as the ship heaves and pitches, you move your body about, so as to keep it always straight. When the front of the ship rises, you lean forward, till the deck almost touches your nose; and when its back end gets up, you lean backwards. This is all very well for an hour or two; but you can’t balance yourself for a week. (1889)
British Canals by Edwin A Pratt
Early Days It seems to be customary with writers on the subject of canals and waterways to begin with the Egyptians, to detail the achievements of the Chinese, to record the doings of the Greeks, and then to pass on to the Romans, before even beginning their account of what has been done in Great Britain.
I leave alone all this ancient history, which, to my mind, has no more to do with existing conditions in our own country than the system of inland navigation adopted by Noah, or the character of the canals which are supposed to exist in the planet of Mars. (1906)
Springs - Waterways World by Michael Russell
However slowly I chug in my narrowboat past moored craft some wild-eyed, over-excited person leaps up to tell me I've lost my water-skier.The real problem is not the wash itself; there is also a movement of the whole body of water between the moving craft and the bank, first back, against the motion, then forward again as the craft passes. It is this motion that causes the moored craft to bump.
A simple and practical idea to prevent your boat being disturbed by passing craft is a pair of diagonal mooring lines, from the fore and aft mooring pins to the attachment on the boat at the opposite end. Called springs, these lines prevent the to-and-fro movement, and markedly reduce bumping.
I have yet to see a permanently moored canal craft with springs. Please encourage your residential boat owners to use them, and so give me a quieter passage. (December 1992)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
In Birmingham, traffic has ceased abruptly. Waterways have collapsed under subsidence in the colliery areas and it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that neither the British Waterways Board nor the National Coal Board care very much. Under a complex agreement both parties were to split the cost of making good such damage. Clearly the NCB as a customer would find it cheaper under such a circumstance to put its coal on the roads; I trust that other users of the roads concerned appreciate the change. A vast fleet of short-haul craft, efficiently operating in trains behind tugs, have been driven off the Birmingham canals, with, in several cases, some extra levies at the wharves to speed them on their way. Little that was positive was achieved; the Inland Waterways Association under Robert Aickman fought hard and bitterly but was hampered by public indifference. (1971)
Senedd debate by James Evans MS for Brecon and Radnorshire
For 225 years, this canal [Mon&Brec] has taken water from the River Usk to operate. It supports nearly £30 million a year for the local economy, and it is the most visited attraction in the Brecon Beacons National Park. ... But now, because of the water extraction licence imposed by Natural Resources Wales, the canal's future is hanging by a thread. ... The canal needs around 18 ML of water per day to function properly. The new NRW licence ... doesn't account for the reality of evaporation, leakage or the historic patterns of use.
Within two weeks of the licence coming into force in March, water levels on the canal dropped to nearly unusable levels. The Canal and River Trust, a charity already under pressure, has been forced to pay up to £40,000 a week to buy water from Dŵr Cymru Welsh Water just to keep the canal open. This is not a sustainable position.
If nothing changes, we will see boat hire businesses go under. We'll see tourism businesses drying up. And we'll see people lose jobs, pubs and shops lose trade, and the communities along the canal lose a central part of the social and economic life of my constituency. We'll see wildlife along this 35-mile green corridor lost. The canal itself is home to 112 protected species, yet the licensing decision failed to consider the canal's ecology as part of the same ecosystem as the River Usk. (9 July 2025 )
POTTERIES EXAMINER by courts correspondent
at TUNSTALL Thomas Ratcliffe, boatman, was charged with stealing coal, the property of Messrs Robert Heath and Son. As he was passing in his boat two boats laden with coal on the canal, the prisoner took a lump of coal from each of them and put it in his own boat. Caught in the act by PC Pritchard, he said he had taken the coal to boil his kettle for supper. He was sentenced to seven days' imprisonment. (13 July 1872)
Wooton Wawen bridge by Great Western Railway Company
NOTICE
This
BRIDGE
Is insufficient to carry a
HEAVY MOTOR CAR
The Registered Axle Weight of any axle of
which exceeds
ONE TONS
or the Registered Axle Weights of
the several
axles of which exceed in the aggregate
TWO
TONS
or a Heavy Motor Car drawing a
TRAILER
if the
Registered Axle-Weights of the several Axles
of the HEAVY MOTOR
CAR and the
Axle Weights of the several Axles of the
TRAILER Exceed in the aggregate
3TONS
GREAT WESTERN
RAILWAY Co
PADDINGTON STATION
LONDON (c1863)
Sign at Hatton (GU) by Waterside Mooring
Waterside Mooring Terms and conditions apply at all times
It
is important that you read this notice in full
(Full site terms
and conditions for this location can be found at
www.watersidemooring.com)
Mooring at this site is for current
Mooring Agreement holders only. By mooring or remaining stationary at
this location, you, the person or persons in control of the vessel
accept these contractual terms: An Overstay Charge of £150 per day
will be issued to any vessel moored here without authorisation.
This land is privately owned by the Canal & River Trust.
District Enforcement have the Trust's authority to issue
Mooring Overstay Charge Notices (MOCN) and to recover the overstay
charges from the person or persons in control of the vessel. The
Trust will provide District Enforcement with any information it holds
in its records relating to the vessel to enable recovery of the
overstay charges by District Enforcement. District Enforcement is
authorised to take debt recovery action if overstay charges are not
paid. If a MOCN is issued and the person or persons in control of the
vessel do not remove the vessel from this location, the Trust may
authorise District Enforcement to take possession of the vessel for
the purpose of moving it from this location to any other part of the
waterway as instructed by the Trust.
Payments can be made to
District Enforcement at the address below. If you have any enquiries
regarding the mooring charges, telephone 01785 336780. All other
queries should be directed at the local mooring manager on Tel. 0303
040 4040.
District Enforcement Ltd, PO BOX 10418, Ashby, LE65 9EJ Registered
in England Company Number 07346382
DISTRICT ENFORCEMENT THE
MOORING SPECIALISTS
Canal & River Trust Charity no.
1146792 (2018)
The Cape of Good Hope interpretation board by Canal & River Trust
A historic public house
The Cape of Good Hope opened
around 1800 and was built as offices, a shop and a beer house for the
Warwick and Napton Canal Co. The buildings were built during the
British occupation of the Cape in South Africa - an important
shipping route. As the canal in Warwick created a vital trade route
here, it's most likely how the pub, the locks and the local
area gained their name by association. Today, you can still enjoy a
canal-side rest stop surrounded by history and nature. (c2018)
Coventry Canal Basin - interpretation board by Coventry Council
The Coventry Canal starts at the basin and stretches for 38 miles
into the Midlands' countryside. The first 5½ miles of the
canal flows through some of Coventry's most historic
industrial areas and ends at Hawkesbury Junction.
The story
of the basin
James Brindley, the self-taught engineer,
built the basin as part of the large canal project which started in
the village of Longford. On the 10 August 1769, the canal reached the
basin where, according to the local news at the time,
Jopson's Coventry Mercury: 'two boats
laden with coal were brought to this city from this side of Bedworth.
Being the first ones, they were received with loud cheers by a number
of people who had assembled to witness their arrival.'
The basin has witnessed many fascinating changes over the years.
It used to serve as an important industrial hub for the North
Warwickshire collieries. Goods were loaded and unloaded here and then
bound towards the Midlands via the Trent & Mersey Canal, or
the Oxford Canal towards London. With the closure of the colliers,
transporting goods along the canals began to decline. By the 1950s
the basin had become derelict.
Coventry City Council was
considering draining the canal but in 1957 the Coventry Canal Society
was established with the aim to save the canal. The
society's efforts over the last 60 years, in partnership
with Coventry City Council, British Waterways, and Canal &
River Trust, has seen the canal become an important leisure and
environmental resource for Coventry.. (c2010)
IWA Waterways 289 by David Posnett
I contracted Weil's disease while litter picking, with scratched arms and wet clothes likely exposed to rat urine. Due to the Covid pandemic at the time, I couldn't see a doctor immediately. By the time I reached hospital, I was 24 hours from death. I was admitted for 11 days, turning bright orange as a result of liver failure, experiencing excruciating pain, unable to move, and delirious. It took more than two months to recover.
My warning is to be aware of the key symptoms: fever, muscle pain, vomiting and yellowing of the skin or eyes. Get checked immediately. Early diagnosis can save your life. This disease is rare but extremely serious and easily misdiagnosed. Don't ignore the signs like I did. Take symptoms seriously, especially if you've been in dirty water or around rodent-infested areas. (Autumn 2025)
Oxford Junior Encyclopaedia by Laura Salt et al
Canal-boat families keep very much to themselves and rarely marry outside their own group. They are hard-working people, and, except for their liking for gaily decorated homes, not at all like the land gypsies with whom they are often wrongly compared.
They have not been well-educated in the past; but now canal-boat children have to attend school for as long as their boats remain in one place; so that the children now growing up will at least be able to read and write. In one case an old barge has been fitted up as a school.
In physical fitness and well-being, both parents and children are above the average. (1957)
Yorkshire Post by Alexandra Wood
Middlesborough-based shipping company Casper River has big plans for the future, and has already invested in a new wharf at Stourton, near Leeds, which opened in May. It means cargo arriving from Europe, North Africa and the Baltic into the Humber ports can be carried inland by barge "with numerous benefits, not least to the environment".
Captain of his first barge aged just 15, John Branford, now 80, sailed into Hull on Farndale H on Friday, where she's going into dry dock. John, who is being kept on as a consultant by Casper River, has always had a passion for getting freight off the roads and onto water and estimates that he's moved 4m tonnes of freight over his lifetime on the waterways.
John resumed commercial barge operations from Hull to Leeds in September 2020 after a break of 19 years, only to run into a lot of bad luck. He was put out of action for nine months that December by a breach in the canal at Newbridge. The breach, caused by an embankment collapse after heavy rainfall, prompted a large-scale emergency response, and was followed by lengthy repairs. A row then developed with anglers, who claimed the barge was killing fish, leading to another three-month stoppage. John said Pete Buffam (director at Casper River) approached him about selling the barges after seeing him on TV. (28 June 2025)
Journeys of The Swan by John Liley
A few waterways remain on which lip-service is given to the notion of freight carriage. These were all large at the time of nationalization although some lopping has even here been projected. The wide canal above Rotherham and to Sheffield, for instance, was not included in the network proposed for retention.
Even on the tidal Thames, which is independent of the British Waterways Board, traffic has declined. The same can be said of those lockless waterways of East Anglia which theoretically offer the same facilities as the canals of Holland. Only a major decision in Parliament it seems, and one penalizing road haulage, will return traffic to the waterways. The 1968 Transport Act in fact laid the first steps towards doing this, though obviously with the intention only of diverting traffic back to a railway system which is now also, alas, skeletal.
Britain's movement closer to Europe and her subsequent survival, may be severely compromised by her failure to evolve the most economical form of transport; many of us may be unaware of it and a further drift to the South East may possibly obscure it. Barges may come from the Caspian, but they are unlikely to penetrate very far into Britain. (1971)
The Trouble With Canals by John Liley
(1967) We could have done with a lifejacket or two at a venue in the Midlands, for it was not the fairest of days. The Stourbridge Canal, after its earlier battles, was being properly reopened at last. British Waterways, wounded by the publicity surrounding the confrontations of 1962, had changed its mind. 16 locks had been brought back to proper order, and the channel cleared.
The reopening ceremony was conducted by Transport minister John Morris a surprise, since ministers moved on rapidly in Transport. No sooner had an incumbent begun to get a grip on things than he was deployed elsewhere, to Employment, perhaps, or to Trade. Some fresh figure then blundered about, trying not to commit too many gaffes. But here was Mr Morris, wisely clad in an overcoat, to make the opening speech. Arnold Allan was there too, pressed into the bow of the ceremonial boat with other worthies. I took pictures of them, looking enthusiastic, or long-suffering, depending on who they were. (2017)
Waterways For Tomorrow by Department of the Environment Transport and the Regions
The Government's overall aims for the waterways are to see an improving quality of infrastructure; a better experience for users through more co-operation between navigation authorities; and increased opportunities for all through sustainable development.
In February 1999 we increased public investment in British Waterways and created a new framework to help it to care for and develop its assets. British Waterways is taking forward initiatives to develop a closer relationship with its users, to work with the voluntary sector, and to establish new public/private partnerships. We will reinforce our call to British Waterways to harness public, private and voluntary sector skills and enthusiasm to unlock the full potential of its waterways.
We will continue to encourage navigation authorities to work together on issues of mutual interest to provide a higher quality and more consistent experience for users. We will continue to support the Association of Inland Navigation Authorities (AINA), encourage a wider advisory role for IWAAC, and promote joint working between British Waterways and the Environment Agency.
We will continue to integrate the waterways more effectively with other areas of Government policy. (June 2000)
The School Cruise of '83 by James Adams
On the towpath, fellow teacher Dave races ahead to raise Long
Butts Lift Bridge, which we glide through, before I pull the bow
close to the side, ready for him to hop back aboard. However, it soon
becomes apparent that the bridge is stuck open. Dave’s a big,
muscular chap yet, in spite of his best efforts, it just won’t come
down. As he’s on the far side, I put Errwood into full
reverse to pick him up. At that precise moment, I feel a tap on my
leg from the galley down below – a bacon sandwich. Thinking it best
to gratefully collect the proffered breakfast, I stoop down to do so
as the boat continues in reverse. But as I turn back to the canal, I
see, to my horror, that Dave has succeeded in lowering the bridge
(several tons of solid steel) and has walked across it. I immediately
throttle the engine forward but too late. The boat keeps reversing
and a collision is inevitable. First the back-fender creeps
harmlessly under the bridge, then the base of the tiller strikes it,
which bends the tiller forwards. Next, with a crack and a bang, the
tiller shears off at its base, flies through the air and heads
straight into the galley, where it lands with a crash. Thankfully, no
one is injured.
Clearly we need the tiller welded back on
Errwood. So I find the nearest phone box to try to arrange
that. The kids all think this a great adventure. In the phone box, I
quickly scan the Yellow Pages for welders. After several failed
attempts I find a welder who can come to the boat in about two
hours’ time, and the welding will take up to an hour. (October 2025)