Chimney part 2, and other things

Following Blue Moon's comment in yesterday's post, I decided to treat the wood support from the chimney collar with some preservative. So, with cracks in the wood filled, some Cuprinol on the wood and the whole of the metalwork treated with Rust Eater it looks like this:

I tested out the sleeve, and the tapered end will squeeze inside the collar, so it should be alright. I think I'll try using hull blacking paint to finish it – it's a quick straight-to-metal solution and I'm not aware of any reason not to. Then I'll have to find some way of cleaning the staining on the green paintwork. It seems to be coming along nicely.

Beautiful day for travelling today. Coming through the first locks we were never far out of sight of Beeston Castle's distinctive outline, misty at first and then with some sun on it.

Unfortunately for those coming the other way, all the traffic seemed to be with them – one couple had waited 2 hours to get through a couple of locks. We were accompanied on our way up the wide Shroppie locks by Gail and her recently acquired NB Four No Trumps. She had family on board, including her parents who have done lots of sailing in the Mediterranean – narrowboating was a bit of a novelty for them. It was nice to meet them.

Tonight we tied up at our favourite spot on the Middlewich branch – Sykes Hollow. It's a treat in the evening sun, as we sit outside, drinking our tea and making music.

Today we passed a couple of hire boats with Tolkien themed names – Thorin and Silmaril. I must dig out my list and see how many it now stretches to.

Chimney part 1

Erin Mae's chimney stands vertically, which means there is a wedge shaped base support between the roof and the collar.

We've noticed these cracks appearing in the base, but have concluded that the material is some sort of wood, and that the fault lines are probably where different segments have been cut to fit. That's less worrying than the thought of a metal base cracking.

We'd been getting frustrated with the chimney. It was forever leaking tar onto Erin Mae's roof, with the resultant staining that the photos demonstrate. And then chimneys seemed to have a very short life, with rust quickly getting a hold. We've decided a chimney project is in order!

Firstly, we've bought a stainless steel chimney which will have paid for itself as soon as one ordinary steel chimney needed to be replaced. Secondly, we've bought a galvanised steel liner which will fit inside the flue, and usher all tarry condensates back down said flue.

I don't expect the liner necessarily to last any longer than the old chimneys, but it's much cheaper and cleaner, and, anyway, it was all that Midland Chandlers had. Perhaps there are long-lasting liners out there somewhere. My main issue is that it's specified as 6 inches diameter. You compress it to insert it into the flue, but my flue, as you can see from the photo above, is considerably less than 6 inches. I think the MC man said it's one size fits all – and the MC website lists only 6 inch models – but I'd like to be certain before I go ahead and render it unreturnable.

Thirdly, we've scraped the rust and residues off the collar and its base, prior to applying a wood filler to the cracks, treating the collar with Rust Eater, and then giving the whole lot a paint with something black. I'll report on progress tomorrow.

Had you noticed that I'm actually getting to grips with some of Erin Mae's body work!

Wedding Pics

Some have made some kind comments about our extraordinary family wedding in July. The photographer was amazing and was around for the whole day. If you would like to see a selection of the photos he took, here's the link.

Windlass and Poo

This morning we came up the locks through Chester with Tony and Karina on NB No Brass  – it's much easier in the wide locks with two boats, and there's double the crew to work the paddles and gates. We met some interesting characters along the way. One of them, chatting to everyone at the penultimate lock, distracted Karina to the point that she knocked her windlass into the lock. I pushed on to set the final lock, leaving them to fish for the windlass with their Sea-Searcher magnet. They caught up, sans windlass and also sans magnet, which, having caught the windlass, had detached itself from its cord as it was being pulled up.

So Tony and I walked back to the lock with our Sea-Searcher, and began to fish. After a while he caught something, which turned out to be his magnet, attached to the windlass. Unfortunately, the windlass dropped off again just he was about to retrieve it – but at least he had his magnet back.

We decided to drop the lock – there were some swirling currents from the leaks in the gates, but it was easier to see exactly where we were fishing with the water down. After a while fishing with both magnets, I got the windlass, only for Tony to discover, as he removed it from the magnet, that this wasn't his windlass at all but one which clearly had been in the water for a considerable time! Eventually, after shifting to a slightly different place, I found Tony's. So we were up one windlass, assuming we can restore it to reasonable condition.

It was only after I'd come back on board that my best beloved pointed at my shoes with a shock-horror expression. I'd picked up some of the most disgusting stuff in the universe while windlass-fishing. Fortunately there was a water point just through the next bridge, so we stopped and I off-loaded all the boards where I had trod and gave them a thorough washing, along with my trainers.

Dog poo – don't you love it!

Weed

Today I discovered a third use for the extendable, aluminium-bodied, plastic-headed boat hook.

When we bought Erin Mae, I put out some feelers about what equipment would be useful. Most people scoffed at the idea of a boat hook. (1) They are capable of doing a lot of damage (I think they had the very sharp metal type in mind). (2) Whatever would you use them for on the canals?

Well, the first thing I used mine for was retrieving, in our marina, a sunk fender still fortuitously attached to one of those white poly-something handrail hooks, which was floating and giving away the location. The second thing I used it for, thanks to a hint from (I think) Sue on NB No Problem, was to hoist the bow line to the top of the wall of a lock we were coming up for my best beloved to secure. And the third thing I have used it for was this:

Under the first bridge we met after leaving the Ellesmere Port museum this morning was a large wodge of weed – characteristic, we found, of this section of the Shroppie. I nosed up to it and let Erin Mae's momentum carry it out of the bridge – I had no intention of letting it anywhere near the prop. A little reversing then got me clear and on to the next bridge. But here was another blockage, not so much an island of weed as a solid isthmus between the walls of the bridge. Discretion was called for, so we tied up and with the boat-hook I dragged the blockage clear.

That aluminium plastic thingy has proved valuable. I wonder what the next use will turn out to be.

End of the road

Tuesday night in Chester held no terrors after all, apart from my dream imagination running wild with thoughts of what could happen going down the staircase locks the next morning. When we got going we followed Tony and Karina on NB No Brass past the King Charles tower…

under the city wall…

and into the top lock of the 3-part staircase.

Emerging eventually from the bottom lock you are faced with a right angle turn into the basin…

which was more interesting than expected.

Leaving the basin we passed NB Heart of Oak, the heart of which seemed tragically to have fallen out of her. We think one of the people on the towpath may have been the owner, trying to work out what to do next.

Just out of the basin you can do a 180˚ turn to drop down to the River Dee…

but we carried straight on, circled round the northwest side of Chester, tied up in a really nice spot and got chatting with a cycling couple, Dave and Lynette, who come from Morton on the Wirrall (see, Dave, I did remember!). These chance encounters are all part of the fun of the adventure.

Our real reason for mooring up here was to meet up with our friends Alastair and Sue who were driving down from West Kirby for the evening. I hadn't seen them for about twenty years, and my best beloved not for something nearer thirty-five, so it was great to see them again and chew the cud together.

This morning we pushed on to Ellesmere Port – if you're on a boat your entrance fee for the National Waterways Museum gets you a mooring in the more secure lower basin, so we dropped down the locks…

and tied up by a rather odd assortment of boats and buildings.

The museum is being developed really well on its 7 acre site, and has a nice mix of the informative and the nostalgic (each of the four cottages in this "Porters' Row" is done out to match a different era from Victorian to the fifties).

Finally, we took an evening stroll down to see the Manchester ship canal – Ellesmere Port is where the Shroppie ends. You can lock down onto it provided all your paperwork and equipment meets their standards, but we shan't be doing so.

Interestingly, the information boards in the museum have the spelling "Shroppy". Now there's a debate for pedants!

Onwards and upwards

It occurred to us yesterday that since we didn't know when next we'd be on this northern stretch of the Shroppie, it would be a shame not to push on through Chester to Ellesmere Port. The main reason we hadn't thought of this before was two-fold. First, we'd picked up rumours of what can befall boaters in Chester. When we were last here we'd gazed down from the city walls on a stretch of canal which looked rather ominous, and seemed to confirm the rumours. Second, because what brought us to boating was not a major interest in the history of the canals, a visit to the National Waterways Museum at Ellesmere Port felt attractive but not mandatory. However, some boaters at Tattenhall indicated that Chester was OK, provided you were sensible, and going on up the Shroppie would give us an opportunity to hook up with two friends who live in the Wirrall. And when I rang up the Museum to talk about mooring, it was a very friendly chappie on the other end of the phone! So today we set out northwest rather than southeast.

We'd done this stretch two years ago when we took Lewis, Charis, David and Jo on their first Erin Mae trip, and picked them up in Waverton. The bus we've often taken to Chester follows more or less the same path, criss-crossing the canal via several hump-backed bridges. It naturally gets there rather faster, especially as, after a short while, there is a mile or more of moored boats.

Overall, however, it's a very nice run in. I remember these willows being considerably lower last time.

There are five locks down into Chester, and we shared them with NB Chief.

The boat is owned by Kiwi John, who had his long-standing Californian friends Daniel and Catherine on board for a few days. They'd been up to Llangollen and back, and now had a couple of days in Chester before the American couple fly on somewhere else. It was good fun to chat and to share the work as we came down the locks together. Nice to meet you, guys!

So we've moored up in the middle of Chester, and are trusting we'll be safe here overnight.

And, for this evening, I have the second Patrick Rothfuss book which David, true to his word, dropped in last night. If it hadn't been for the delay occasioned by the chance of borrowing that book, we might well be on our way to Middlewich by now, instead of heading north in the September sunshine.