We set off rather earlier than expected. At 6.00am, deeply asleep, I was abruptly woken as the boat rocked and I heard, what I interpreted to be "Scruffy get off the boat", relaxing back into the mattress thinking someones dog had hopped onto the boat I was jolted into high alert as there were a couple of thumps and the boat rocked violently followed by some high pitched giggling.
Sliding out of bed (you can't leap anywhere in a narrowboat - not without the risk of serious injury) and urging Lawrence to get up, I realised we had been cast adrift, probably by a couple or more of the group of young spotty and poisonous teenage boys that had given us a bit of cheek the evening before, not bad, but enough for me to take the precaution of photographing them especially as I saw them hurling stones at this boat going past.
They buggered off at high speed when I burst out of the hatchway in my Qatar pyjamas - a sight guaranteed to frighten even the bravest - but the damage was done and we were starting to drift off down the canal. About to loose our rear mooring rope into the depths (ha ha) of the canal, I grabbed the centre rope and leapt for the bank and the end of the mooring rope.
I made it, but only just and unfortunately I landed with my left foot on the edge of the metal piling holding back the bank. Hero that I am tho' :) I ignored the sudden jolt of pain and managed to grab the last foot of the mooring rope before it slithered into the canal.
As I was starting to haul A.B. back to the bank, Lawrence made his appearance having had to put on some clothes (because he refuses to wear the Qatar jim jams, they are so awful) and sensibly, some shoes.
Luckily the little shits hadn't had time to disentangle the front mooring rope from the armco hook so we didn't have to worry about that. Thinking they must have chucked the stern armco hook into the canal because I couldn't see it anywhere I looked back up the canal and spotted it about 25 metres away - I'd had no idea we had drifted that far.
Having re-attached A.B. to the bank we climbed back down into the boat and I asked L to take a look at my now throbbing foot - it turns out that I have a 2 inch shallow gash across my instep. Mmm - metal and canal water, take your pick which carries more germs - lucky I packed the Betadine (thinking we might need it for L, never for me). Anyway after a liberal application of the stuff, L applied a super large bandaid and told me I was ready for work!
There was no point going back to bed so I got dressed and L finished dressing, we had a leisurely breakfast listening to A.M. and pushed off about 7.45am.
Unfortunately we didn't get very far beyond bridge 10 when we had to pull over for yet another weed hatch visit. This was turning out not to be a good start to the day!
Bridge 10 and the chimney of Unity Mill, now derelict.
Don't know if you can see, but over the 2nd fence post from left you can see some of the highrises of Manchester
Coming into Woodley
Railway viaduc
And just around the corner the entrance to Woodley Tunnel appears
Inside Woodley Tunnel
Coming out the other end
After the tunnel a cheery lady was walking her two shitzoo titszoos along the path when we noticed a 3rd animal with them, it was her tabby moggie who also goes on the daily walks with them. Well, it made Lawrence and I smile - for the first time this day.
And I got entranced by the reflections in the water
Our second tunnel of the day, Hyde Bank
The Canada Geese still outnumber the sheep!
Bridge 15, and what used to be a tunnel beyond. Our idyll is nearly over, soon it will be time to get out and get a sweat up.
But the canal has one more surprise for us. The Marple Aqueduct, completed in 1800 and spanning, 100 feet below, the River Goyt. However the railway viaduct looms even higher above us.
Unfortunately we were so gobsmacked by the views from the aqueduct I forgot to take any photos of the aqueduct itself :(
Looking downstream from the aqueduct.
Round another couple of bends and we saw our work for the day set out for us. The first couple of the 16 locks that comprise the Marple Flight. Raising the canal over 200 feet - that's 12' 6" per lock!!! This remarkable feat of engineering was completed in 1803.
'Hang on a minute', I hear you saying, 'Don't deep locks and short pounds spell trouble?'
Oh well done gang, you have been paying attention. It was with some dread I got off A.B. at the bottom of the flight and looked up the hill and thought about walking it three times on my poor sore foot.
All except two leaky ones, the locks were full, meaning they were against us and required emptying before we could use them. To save my foot and water, once the lock was nearly full and A.B. safe, I would hobble up to the next lock and start draining it to replenish the pound we had just depleted. Meanwhile, L would lower the ground and gate paddles and open the gate, exit the lock, stop and while holding onto the stern rope of A.B. would shut the gate. Luckily there was no breeze to blow A.B.'s bow off to one side or the other.
This method, tho slow was working for us and we made steady progress up through the first four locks.
Preparing to walk up to lock 5 I looked up and noticed a man in a bicycle helmet opening the bottom gate paddles. 'Is there a boat coming down' I wondered. I had been hoping fervently that one would appear soon which would mean our workload would be halved.
Leaving Lawrence to do his bit, I walked up to check in with the man in the bicycle helmet. Turns out that John, a 79yo, loves helping people with the locks and giving them his guided tour of the history of the flight and he was right chuffed to see us. The flight has been closed for most of the last two years, firstly due to a wall bulging in lock 10 or 12 and then lock no 11 totally collapsing. It only reopened last Friday and we were the first boat he had seen come through, even though he has been cycling the flight daily, windlass at the ready in his backpack.
So with John setting the lock ahead we progressed a little faster - only a little - there was a lot of history to be imparted and listened too, feats of engineering to be marvelled at and solutions to mysteries posed . But physically it was much, much easier.
Lots of gongoozlers out and about today. Lots of kids you will see later; turns out it is half term.
L and the man in pink had a long chat as he rose slowly in the lock.
The view from lock 8 - the halfway point
Waiting for the pound to replenish before leaving the lock
Lock 9 in a very pleasing setting
The old lock cottage looks most appealing
And Oldknow's Warehouse now houses a suite of posh offices. Samuel Oldknow, one of the main promoters of the Peak Forest Canal, had a mill at Mellor and bales of finished cotton were brought here by road for storage before onward transit along the canal.
The completely rebuilt lock 11. It was here that John left us, after taking numerous photos of Aqua Beatha in the lock
Although the lock and towpath have reopened the rebuilding of the stone wall and remedial works behind it continue
John, on his bike, windlass returned to his backpack
We plodded on, UNTIL A.B. got stuck in the pound between locks 12 and 13 and wouldn't you know it, lock 13 was one of the two empty ones on the whole flight. I walked on up the flight but the pounds just kept getting smaller and smaller.
Bugger this, I thought and walked back down to A.B. and shouted to Lawrence to ring CRT. He did and a short while later water started to at first bubble then gush from the bottom of lock 13. The CRT man arrived soon after and said that as soon as A.B. could float to take her into 13.
Trouble was she was soon floating but would get stuck on something every time she tried to move.
Anyway to cut an essentially boring story short we eventually got into the lock, however by this time we had drawn quite a crowd, that eagerly followed us up the next two locks with all the kiddies wanting to help.
You know me, as soon as more than two of the little darlings wanted to get involved, I scarpered up to set the next lock and left the CRT man doing his PR stuff, which I must say, he did very well.
By the time we got to the last lock, the kids had got bored and had dragged their minders off, or perhaps it was the minders that got bored. Whatever, it was just the CRT man and me, oh and Lawrence in the bottom of the lock.
Having to make a right hand turned immediately upon leaving the lock, the CRT man checked it was clear and then he waved us on through.
Having made the turn you then have to immediately line up a skinny bit, orginally a toll lock.
we were at the end of the skinny bit when the boat at the far end on the left pulled out. Eureka, we've got ourselves a mooring spot.
Looking back through the bridge to the junction and the Des Res for sale across the basin
We moored up and high tailed it to the pub across the road, getting there at 2.30 and enjoyed a hard earned, what turned out to be , early dinner. Stopping when we did proved to be the right decision, it started raining (or what passes for rain in England) when we were in the pub and it hasn't stopped since.
4 1/2 miles, 16 locks, 2 tunnels
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