Salt of the earth

The Weaver navigation starts / ends in Winsford. The guide says you can go to the second bridge, but it's the first, blue one that carries the notice of the boundary, so that's where we tied up for a while, not wanting to risk the shallow waters beyond.

The area all around has been dominated by the salt extraction industry since Roman times. Originally it seems to have been brine, but the one remaining working mine on the Weaver is for rock salt.

It's subsidence caused by the brine extraction that has caused the flashes, these large expanses of shallow water good for sailing or canoeing but perilous for narrowboats. Winsford has made good use of it with some large leisure spaces.

We hear there is to be a salt festival here next weekend, with lots of boats expected. Apparently it includes a regatta, and a "salt fair" with the opportunity to go down a working salt mine. Google "Winsford salt festival" and see what you get.

 The CRT mooring outside the Red Lion at the end of the navigation was a useful place to tie up so we could have a wander but, with a busy main road over the bridge, held little appeal for an overnight stay, so we winded and returned downstream. There's just room to squeeze under the swing bridge…

and a handy headroom gauge so you can play with probabilities before you knock the top off that new chimney.

Last night's mooring at Vale Royal was still available, though the boat already tied up was preparing for a serious family barbecue, so tonight may well not be so quiet.

In more or less the same place where Jesus talked about his followers being the salt of the earth, he told them to worry about stuff as little as the birds of the air do. I don't believe he mentioned the butterflies of the air anywhere, but this one that came to visit probably didn't know that.

Up the river

Waiting overnight to go down the Anderton lift gave the opportunity to see how the new chimney would all sit together. It will look even smarter when I've painted over the tar staining on the roof. I just need to finalise the best relative positions for the chimney and the liner inside, and ensure that I can get them off in a hurry when approaching Bridge 12 (I think) on the Caldon canal.

Our slot today was at 12.50 and they fitted us in the caisson alongside a hire boat.

Maurice saw us packed in nice and snug, and tried to make sure we all knew what we were doing.

The view down the river as we descended was picturesque, as ever, but would have benefited from a bit more sun.

I love silhouettes and these have a character all their own. The middle of the three vertical pipes is the hydraulic lift for the other caisson.

Then it was off up the River Weaver and through Hunts lock. The two upstream river locks are operated manually and quite hard work – fortunately they are manned by CRT staff.

We went under the A55A556…

and under a railway heading somewhere…

through one of the Vale Royal locks, ably assisted by master mariner Chris…

and tied up for the night at the Vale Royal visitor moorings.

This evening the sun is just beginning to come out, there's hardly anyone else around, and there's a cormorant perched on something on the other side of the river. The tick from my home-made clock on the kitchen wall sounds unusually loud.

Spliced and splinched

This is a follow up to my earlier post today. After cutting and trimming my worn mooring line, I followed the instructions at Animated Knots to splice the two ends together. First time I'd ever tried such a thing.

I thought it wasn't bad for a first attempt. Even if it's clearly not professional standard it seems strong enough to stand up to mooring line strains.

The main problem was what to do with the fuzzy ends, not being a dab hand with a crochet hook. In the end I decided to melt them. Safety first – take everything outside, use long safety matches, etc. Trouble was I forgot to leave enough time for one of the strands to cool, and got molten plastic over my finger. A loud yell was followed by a dash down to the cold tap. My one consolation is that any damage to my appendage is completely sealed in with black plastic – no danger of infection there!

Next time I do a splice, I think I'd seal the strands beforehand, and use narrower tape for the initial binding of the two ends.

Weaver wannabees

We've decided to spend some days on the River Weaver, so we got weaving this morning and said a fond farewell to Bramble Cuttings.

We noticed that the picnic tables had these little plaques attached.

They say: "This product has been constructed by H M Prison Services using timber reclaimed from old lock gates". Easy to get a bit too sentimental about things like this, but it struck me that this was a worthwhile undertaking all round.

Going on to a river means an anchor is in order. The existing line for ours was considerably shorter that the recommended 30 metres, so I'd bought some more rope and the time has come to attach it. Tying knots isn't exactly weaving, but it's a nearly-pun. First up was a double fisherman's knot to tie the two lengths together.

Strictly speaking, it's a bend rather than a knot, but nobody calls it that. Nor do I know any fishermen who use it, but there we are. Next I needed to put a water bowline at the other end of the new length.

This is attached by a D-ring to the anchor chain. You need this variation on the bowline because it is more secure when dragging through water (perish the thought!). The other end of the whole length has a simple loop to go on the cleat on Erin Mae's bows.

If you have to use an anchor you run it from the bows so that you (a) don't foul the propellor, and (b) face up stream, which is easier for moving off again.

When we arrived at the Anderton boat lift we found there was a problem discovered during maintenance today, and we wouldn't be going down to the Weaver until tomorrow. That gives me some time to go on a knotting website, and see whether I can learn how to use a splice to repair the worn stern mooring line that I've replaced.

All this weaving! At least it's not in and out of traffic.

Supertherm

When we were moored up at Sykes Hollow on Monday, Brian and Ann Marie came by on NB Alton. I was playing my guitar on the towpath and they were past before I could think "pump-out". They operate as "Renaissance", with services for the canal community. Today, as we enjoyed the late afternoon sunshine at Bramble Cuttings, they came by again, heading back from where we're going tomorrow, and on this occasion I was in time to hail this stop-me-and-buy-one and get a bag of Supertherm.

The days are warm and pleasant – the evenings are getting chilly. That's one good reason for getting on with our chimney. It's getting to the time for lighting that stove.

Flash mob

The first time we came through Croxton flash was pure amazement, while it was on the second that, to our delight, we met the Great Crested Grebe. Today, as we meandered northwards from Middlewich, it was something totally different.

At first we thought it was just Canada Geese. Then we noticed some other species, including a large gathering of gulls on the far bank – not sure why they'd been separated.

Finally as we turned the corner to leave the flash, we encountered this lone cygnet. Appeared to have lost his mummy and daddy, but doing the teenager thing, I suppose.

We'd intended making our way to the Anderton Boat Lift, but since we'd had a late start it was getting on for lunch time by the time we arrived at Bramble Cuttings, and felt it was definitely time for a pause at this delightful spot. That quickly became a decision to stop for the night. We kept the engine running for a bit for the sake of the batteries, but there was a harvester going in the field behind the hedge, so you couldn't really hear it. Now engine is off, harvester has gone and the peace is complete.

I took the opportunity to adorn the flue collar with a bit of shiny black stuff. One more coat should see it serviceable and ready for the new chimney.

Pump-out

It's one of the perennial debates among boaters – cassette or pump-out. The loo, that is. A cassette is usually free to empty, but needs doing at frequent intervals. A pump-out costs you, but has to be done far less often, depending on your (cough, cough, hmm) personal habits. But when that little light comes on, you'd better find a pump-out facility fast. Mind you, you can usually tell that the time is approaching by the way the boat is listing to one side because of the weight of (insert appropriate noun here) in the holding tank under the bed.

So this morning the moment arrived, and I began to enquire about facilities along the route. First up was the Aqueduct marina at Church Minshull. They wanted £21, and that didn't even include the "Blue" (the highly toxic, extremely eco-unfriendly and no doubt carcinogenic stuff you put in the tank to keep the bugs and the whiffs under control). I consider that a rip-off, so they didn't get my custom and we pushed on to Middlewich along the beautiful channel followed by the canal, where the embankment keeps you on a level contour and gives great views over the valleys.

At Middlewich we stopped at Kings Lock Chandlery for the free diesel Steve had promised me almost a year ago, after an engine service had allowed a lot of diesel to drip out into the engine compartment. Steve had told me to call in for the diesel any time we were passing, and today was the day. He remembered the incident, and even thanked me for taking him up on his offer!

So we continue to be very happy to recommend Kings Lock Chandlery. Unfortunately they don't do pump-out. By now I was getting concerned about the time, wondering  if the next facility would still be open. So we moved round the corner to Middlewich Boats where, although the till had been closed for the day, Jimmy and Ken were very happy to do me what turned out to be an excellent pump-out, with lots of rinsing, and inclusive of Blue, for the sum of £15, provided I had the cash in my pocket. Thanks, guys – good to meet you – great service!

What a carefree life we must be leading when today's greatest worry is where to empty the poo tank.