Not sure what time we set off this morning, I think it was around 10.00am - it was hard going to drag Lawrence away from the ABC election coverage.
A.B. jammed into the first lock of the day
This lock was a little longer than the previous C&H locks we had encountered thus far as L was able to push the bow of A.B. back from behind the closed gate and across to the open one.
Coming into Brookfoot Lock
That is the dinky little platform I have to stand on to wind the paddle up and down
A nice stretch
Looking down at A.B. from the winding platform to make sure the bow doesn't get hooked up on anything as the lock drains and she descends in lock.
Coming into Brighouse where we intended to moor up for the day to listen to the election coverage.
Passing a 'renovator's delight'
!
One of Sudgen Mill's silos has gained a new lease of life as a climbing wall
We stopped at the waterpoint above Brighouse basin to fill with water and where our spirits were temporarily buoyed when over the airwaves we heard The Mad Monks dulcet voice conceding.
after L managed a tricky turn from the waterpoint to the lock entrance we locked down into the basin to look for a mooring. Unable to find one we continued on down through the next lock, helped by a cheery scottish chap hunting for a kingfisher to photograph, onto the River Calder. Looking back from the lock landing on the river, from where L has just picked me up.
We motored down the River Calder for about 3/4 mile
and then left it again, departing through Anchor Pit Flood Lock. Eschewing the Anchor Pit moorings we pressed on for another half mile, getting more and more depressed by the ABC's live stream blaring out of George and Rhonda's little orange speaker.
Just as we reached Kirklees Top Lock the news came, Labour had conceded. The people of Australia, I believe the most irreligious country in the westernised world had just voted in a rabid Pentacostal for their Prime Minister!
I opened the paddles, with the 15GBP chunk of wood as Lawrence sat, glazed on the stern listening to the broadcast. As the lock was filling I tried to cheer myself by taking in the view.
Knowing L would want to listen to the ABC analysis I asked the chap moored just behind the lock mooring if there were any more moorings nearby. No, but he very kindly offered to pull his boat forward onto the last bollard of the lock mooring to give us enough room to squeeze in between his boat and another further back.
As L backed A.B. back up the canal I dropped the paddles of Kirklees Top Lock and helped the nice chap pull his boat forward. By the time we had done that the bloke in the boat behind had emerged and was pulling A.B into the side.
We were finally tied up nice and snug by 2.00pm and Lawrence immediately disappeared below to get his election coverage fix.
Looking forward from our mooring
and looking backward from whence we have come.
On a lighter note, tho' I don't think it was for Robin; apparently he and Little John forded the Calder in 1247 at the end of their ill-fated journey to Kirklees Priory, where the hero of Sherwood Forest is said to have been bled to death by the treacherous abbess. And his grave is nearby our mooring, close to Kirklees Bottom Lock.
5 miles, 6 locks, 4 hours
No comments:
Post a Comment