Until promptly at 8.30 their ride arrived and we waved a fond farewell. We will see them again in four weeks unless, after reviewing their 2 weeks with us, they say no fffing way we're going to do that again. We hope not.
While Tim and Mike were sitting back, enjoying the drive back to Barton Turns Marina
L and I walked through the village to find the laundrette. Having spoken with the Lady of the Littleborough Laundrette we wandered back to the boat to strip L of all his clothes to add to the dirty pile, during which we discovered Mike had left his reading glasses behind. Washing sorted and stuffed into shopping bags and a back pack we returned to the laundrette and the LLL showed me how to operate the machines and most importantly pour money into each one to make them go.
After a coffee and having discovered, that unlike Australia, English Post Office's are open on a Saturday, L returned to the boat to retrieve Mike's glasses and I returned to the laundrette. Having poured lots more coins into a dryer I passed the time of day with the LLL, quite forgetting to ask her her views on Brexit while the washing nearly dried. After folding and stowing the washing and still no L, I walked up to the Post Office to find him just arriving. We went in to an empty PO and L gave me his back pack to look after while he found a suitable envelope and addressed it etc. Suddenly a swarm of people flooded into the tiny PO and I with two back packs and 2 shopping bags stuffed with washing was clearly in the way and holding up proceedings, so before becoming like the veritable bull in a china shop I squeezed, excused and sorry, sorried my out to lug everything back to the boat, leaving Lawrence to join the back of the now 8 deep queue.
After turning Mike and Tim's recently vacated bedroom into a drying room. After a beautiful sunny morning it started raining again but cleared just before 12.00 so we set off to tackle what we thought were going to be just a few locks for the day. A.Beatha leaving her mooring. The boat behind from which we are coming is the third boat we have seen moored up since leaving Islington Marina!
Here he comes
Entering lock 48, our first for the day. All those gates we were unable to open has forced L to perfect the one gate entry.
View of the wind farm on the moors
Another attractive bridge 49
The first of a number of locks with this caution. The locks are a bit spooky looking because generally one wall has bulged in which makes one slightly nervous about when it might collapse altogether!
Leaving Durn Lock. Next stop waterpoint just ahead in the pound.
There was a boat moored up on the waterpoint who looked as tho he has moved in permanently; on shore gazebo, chair and table etc and it looked like he was using the elsan disposal shed to store his empty bottles. Still, after locking up his dogs, who were under the impression we were mauraders coming to invade and were intent on preventing us from mooring, he seemed quite pleasant and volunteered the whereabouts of a skip for rubbish disposal. As with most waterpoints, filling took an age and we didn't start off again until 1.30pm. (Sigh, Tim would have had us eating lunch by now!)
Check out the weight of each of the bottom gates on Lock 46. No wonder my back and shoulder muscles are aching!
The view ahead
Waiting for Lawrence to enter
We made it up and into Lock 44 barely, but the pound ahead was exceedingly low.
We were told by numerous walkers and cyclists there was a boat a couple of locks up coming down and bringing water with it. The boat had obviously heard about us the same way and they sent a message down with a cyclist to stay put and wait; and wait and wait is what we did.
With Lawrence down in the lock and me above it and neither of us willing to climb up or down the ladder and it starting to drizzle, Lawrence had to pass my raincoat, pockets stuffed with fags and other sustenance up to me on the end of the boat hook. At least now I had some fags and a couple of chocolate bars to while away the time while Lawrence read his kindle.
Eventually water started to slowly fill the pound and I could see the boat arrive up at the next lock. After going up and talking tactics and receiving lots of advice on how to proceed, the boat coming down having drained a number of pounds behind him, we went back to waiting and more waiting.
At last the bottom gates of lock 43 opened and out came the old working boat and it inched its way across the half full pound right up to the lock in which we were sitting. We then opened the paddles to fill the lock and raise Lawrence up from the mirky depths and I watched apprehensively as the water level dropped in the pound. However the boatman had left a bottom gate and top and bottom paddles open on lock 43 (and a another lock above that) and he was confident we would make it across.
Once our lock was full the working boat slid in and then Lawrence slid out of the lock and proceeded very cautiously across the pound
We made it through the next pound and into lock 42.
But the pound beyond had little water
And the pound after that even less
So once again Lawrence, aboard A.Beatha was left lingering in the bottom of a lock while I worked the locks ahead to let water down. Back and forth I walked, I don't know how many times, to check water levels and to open and lower paddles. Each pound had to have enough water in it to fill the lock below AND leave enough in the pound for Lawrence to get through to the next lock.
But in doing this, you are draining pounds further up the flight! The now drained pound above lock 40.
After working yet more locks and running more water down A.Beatha was able to get through lock forty and into the now filled pound. By now I was seriously stuffed and dehydrated and badly in need of a rest. So we moored very loosely on the lock landing and while I rested Lawrence with lock handle in hand and anti vandal key in pocket walked ahead to check our the lay of the land, or should that be locks. Whatever he was gone about an hour having half filled the next pound up after discovering there were only 3 more locks to go before the summit and good, deep moorings in the pound below the summit lock. So we decided to push on.
Setting off in the evening light about 7.15pm
I worked A.Beather up through lock 39 we went and she got half way along the longish pound before grounding to a halt. So I was back to more walking and working paddles to let water down from the summit through the next two locks to fill the pound enough so A.Beatha could float.
Once she was floating again and approaching the lock I had to first shut the front paddles so I could open a bottom gate, then wind down the back paddles and shut the gate. Then with A.Beatha ensconced in the lock, wind up a front paddle to let water into the lock. After which I scurried up to the summit lock to close all four paddles, back down to the next lock to open the gate and close the paddles, then back down to the lock L was in to close the paddle and open the gate to let A.Beatha out to cross the pound and enter our last lock of the day. I'm boring you rigid with this information on getting through two locks so you all can truly appreciate my heroic efforts for the day :)
Our ordeal (or should I say mine, because everytime A.Beatha was stuck down in a lock or in pound Lawrence read the latest Clive Cussler!) was nearly over - mooring bollards on the right.
We moored up at 8.20pm, to buggered to even walk the 200metres to the pub (building up hill).
As I sat on the stern having a fag and a drink (and aching all over) whilst Lawrence kindly cooked dinner, I reflected on the day and thought it's not a good one when the only highlight you can think of was talking with the Lady of the Littleborough Laundromat and observing her interaction with her many customers!!
However while selecting the pics for this blog I remembered that we did pass through some beautiful landscapes and scenes and that everyone we me along the way were cheery, friendly and inquisitive (my cousins Jen and Gwen would fit right in here in West Yorkshire)
2 miles, 11 locks, 8 hours
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