Into the breach

True to their word, CaRT got us through the troubled pound and lock this morning, even though their work yesterday had not solved all the problems and they were continuing to diagnose and plan further stoppage time. Coming down we passed boat after boat moored up, waiting to be allowed up. Stopping for water in Wheelock we found ourselves next to a Danish couple in a hire boat, who were 21st in the queue, and there were a further ten behind them. I think CaRT were going to work all day to get as many possible through, before another stoppage tomorrow morning to try and work out where all the water is going. As you travel this section it feels very rural, and it was a surprise to hear tales from the CaRT personnel of vandalism of the locks that had brought them out several times in the last weeks.

We were pulling up for our lunch (warm home-made bread – yummy!) when the expected rain hit us, and we thought for a while that we might stay put. But the sun came out again and the Met Office forecast promised good things, so in the end we came on all the way to Middlewich, home to the Wardle canal which, at just 47 metres long, is the shortest canal in England. We have a date here with Kings Lock Chandlery to get some free diesel – more about that tomorrow, assuming it materialises (the diesel, that is, not tomorrow, if you see what I mean).

Stoppage

In view of the forecast for this morning, we stopped in bed and listened to the rain. Setting out around 11, we began to pick up news of problems down the hill. It turned out that lock 63 on the Trent & Mersey had failed, leaving the pound above it with no water. Traffic had come to a complete halt. So we moored up at the back of the queue above lock 61 to sit it out. There were nine boats in front of us, and another five came along behind.

Some were saying it would be Saturday before it was fixed. The first CaRT guy to tell us about it said they were planning to do the work tomorrow morning. So we walked on down to have a look.

The pound was down to its muddy bottom, but a work party was already tackling the issue.

There had been a problem since the weekend with the lock losing water, but they hadn't been certain of the cause. Now they found that the upper paddles were leaking.

A lot of made-to-measure work has to be done on site. There's very little mass production of these items, and some good technical skills are called for.

You don't normally get to see these recesses where the paddles are located – they're below the water-line.

So the CaRT guys seemed positive they had solved the problem. Now they have to bring the water down to get the levels in the pounds back up to normal. The main reservoir is up the Macclesfield canal, and they'll be doing it overnight. It will be interesting to monitor whether we are aware of the water coming past us. We've been told they'll start to move the boats in the morning.

Well, it's a lovely sunny evening – might get the guitar out on the towpath if it stays this way.

Wedding pics

A bit off-topic for a boating adventure blog, but here are some of the pics my best beloved managed to take on the day of, what was for us (of course) the wedding of the year – when our Nº 3 son Simon married his Sarah.

Selected family members await the bride,

as does the bridegroom and his father (your truly), who's going to marry them.

I think I can safely say that Simon's function band have never played a venue like this. The Albert Hall, yes. The chapel of Christ College, Brecon, no. Until now.

After the ceremony, Simon and Sarah leave for Pen Pont, in a nicely done up Land Rover.

Didn't we scrub up well!

As did Iain and Chris (sons numbers 1 and 2), and Chris's Norwegian wife Mie.

The cake was pretty impressive – and served with a cup of tea at tea time, about an hour before the main meal.

It had to be cut, of course.

Inside the teepee, everything looked very cool, including the chill-out zone where folk who wanted could just relax and listen to the band.

Tables and settings were, shall we say, rustic-chic, with a Moroccan flavour.

The top table (though it was actually in the middle) had chairs rather than benches – better for the bride's dress, and the couple's parents' backs!

The leaves were a nice touch – M.O.G. was Mother of the Groom!

The bar served different sorts of punch, and lots of other things.

 And a good time was had by all.

Old flame

It was one of those tender moments. After the demands of the Harecastle tunnel (nearly 3000 yards) and the first six locks down "Heartbreak Hill" we found a place to pull in for a sandwich. I squeezed by my best beloved in the kitchen and, in doing so, dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head. She leaned back a little (in appreciation of the gesture is my guess), forgetting that the kettle was heating on the gas hob just behind her. Seconds later there was a yell: "Is something burning?" Affirmative. That nice fleecy, jumper thing from Milletts was past repair, and had also deposited melted poly-something on the tee-shirt underneath.

She herself acquired a sore finger from trying to feel what was going on before we had extinguished it. Well, well. This old flame doesn't normally take his job description quite so literally.

Apart from the conflagration, this sunshine-and-showers day worked out rather well. We were third in the queue to enter the tunnel,

but they promoted us to the head for some reason, so we got a good lead as we went on to the locks. Later on we encountered a family out for a walk, so Romy, Xavier and Elias came on board with their mum to go down one of the locks.

Further on again we found this couple painting one of the mile markers – first time I've encountered anyone doing this.

There are 26 locks to this flight. Some of the paddles are very resistant but for the most part we got through them well.

The wind was troublesome at times, but we've moored tonight at Rode Heath, looking out across the valley.

Thought I'd finish up with  couple of pics of Elissa, Sam and Theo enjoying the Staffordshire Wildlife Trust centre at Wolseley Bridge, while they were with us at the beginning of the month.

Gas

Yesterday at breakfast time we were running out of gas. I went to the gas locker to switch to the other cylinder. Oops! That was empty as well. I'd included it in my mental check list before we set out, but obviously the reality did not match the memory of having installed a new bujão (as the Brazilians say). So we got under way without a warming cuppa and hot-footed it to Stone where the chandlery sold us two. Ouch! It would be interesting to compare the price to that of the piped supply to our house. I'm sure someone's already done that if only I could be bothered to google it.

Today in the breeze we stepped on the gas a bit – steering in a gale seems easier if you're going faster. But as we travelled the last couple of miles to our mooring spot, we clearly weren't going fast enough for the guy coming up behind. I saw no reason why I should move into the shallows and probably go aground, just so he could break the speed limit. However, he gave me a friendly wave as he passed while we were tying up, so he maybe wasn't that bothered.

Well, that's enough gassing for the moment. It's time to make the tea.

What a month!

The last month has been amazingly wonderful. Nº 3 son's wedding in July was stunning. Held in Brecon and its environs, it was designed to maximise the time for guests to chill, chat and generally enjoy themselves. A lot of friends, coming from distance, were camping or staying locally, so the celebrations kicked off with a foody get together on site on the Friday evening. On Saturday things continued with the 1 p.m. ceremony in the chapel of Christ College, Brecon, followed by welsh cakes and elderflower cordial on the lawn, then a drive to the reception venue on the banks of the River Usk. 3–3.30 was Pimms and canapés, at 4 the bluegrass band struck up, at 5 the cake was cut and served with a cup of tea, and at 6 we sat down to the main meal in a teepee on the grass at Pen Pont. After the meal and some brilliant speeches (including one by the bride), the band got going again and ran a ceilidh in the teepee until about 11, when members of Nº 3 son's own function band got out their instruments and did a riotous hour's set. At midnight, hotdogs were cooked and people sat around the fire pit on hay bales until they felt like drifting off to tent or lodgings. The weather promised horrible and turned out fair so the outdoors feel to the whole thing worked really well. Sunday morning various friends joined in dismantling the decorations. The bride and groom were involved as well, and finally left around 1 p.m. for their honeymoon on the Malawi / Mozambique border.

We came away with few "action" photos from the wedding, but these three give a feel for what the teepee was like, inside and out, as it was prepared.

We went home to recuperate, and then the following weekend our three Norwegian grandchildren, who'd taken their parents to Cornwall for a week's holiday, descended upon us, packing their parents back off to Oslo. We had a ball for nine days or so with Elissa (10), Sam (9) and Theo (6). A couple of days in the New Forest, and then up to Erin Mae. This was Theo's first time over with us, so he was doubly excited. Not too many days for boating, but we got down the Trent and Mersey to visit the children's favourite wildlife centre / park at Wolseley Bridge. Then they flew home under the tender care of SAS cabin crew.

So now we are free to consider the rest of our year, and where we would like Erin Mae to take us. We've started north on the Trent and Mersey, with the intention of taking the Ribble link on to the Lancaster canal, but the first available slot turns out to be not until the end of September. So we'll probably see whether Erin Mae's 60 feet will fit into the locks on the Leeds and Liverpool canal, for a trip across the Pennines. We've always wanted to visit Wigan…

Wedding bells

We packed up Erin Mae and drove home on Friday. Number 3 Son is getting married in two weeks time (19th July) and it's time to get ready even though, what with him and his beloved having been independent for several years, they're doing all the organising themselves (and making a very good job of it). They're both based in London but have decided to get married in Brecon – it's in a part of the country where they love to walk, and within a reasonable distance of some of the more senior members of her family. The service will be in the chapel of Christ College, Brecon and, since it's not licensed, they'll have a civil ceremony the previous Thursday.

The joy for me is that they've asked me to conduct the service, and I'm absolutely thrilled to have the privilege.