Allotments

Nuneaton, we've decided, is the allotment capital of Britain.

As the canal circles the town, there's an enormously long section covered with them. It goes on and on and on. It's very difficult to photograph them as you cruise – a question of holding the camera as high as you can to peep over the canal-side vegetation, and the result isn't particularly interesting.

We saw hardly anyone working them. My best beloved thought perhaps they're all on holiday. It may be that in the middle of August there's not much to do except bring home some peas for tea. Not that I would know…

Bits and pieces

After a late start, because of taking the bedding to a launderette, we headed up the final five locks of the Atherstone flight. It was great to find volunteer David giving a hand.

In fact we had a lot of help all the way up, from other boaters coming down, to the two CRT folk on the top lock.

Then it was a cloudy, rather damp run through to Springhaven Marina, whose chandlery I needed to raid for a 25 Amp fuse and a Jubilee clip. We finally tied up in Nuneaton on the moorings by "The Dumbles", a wild, recreational area of land. 

The mooring spot was chosen so I could walk to the headquarters of Midland Chandlers to pick up some items I'd ordered over the phone yesterday. My various calls to them had produced a range of responses to the idea of dropping in to HQ to pick up stuff. But they do say on the website that you can do so, provided you're not expecting a showroom and a till.

It's just an industrial unit, soul-less and bald, half-mile from the canal. I had to ring the bell at reception and wait for someone to bring down my order to one of the roll-up doors. But in the end it worked very well and I got what I'd wanted. Kevin was keen to emphasise that I should not make a habit of it!

I was was going to say that we are looking forward to a quiet night, in spite of the railway track running parallel to the canal. But as I write, two motor bikes have just thundered past down the tow path. Totally illegal, of course, and highly dangerous. I'm hoping it's not an indication of what the evening will hold. I don't want us to be in bits and pieces.

Flood prevention

Today we encountered a narrow section whose purpose was perfectly clear.

The structure on the left is to hold the planks that slot across the canal when flood threatens (as I understand it). The canal narrows because 8 foot planks are easier to manage than 14 foot planks! The Coventry canal seems to be, for the most part, a wibbly-wobbly contour-following affair. So when it curves around a hill, there can be a bank on one side, and a much lower stretch on the other. Floods cascading down the hillside would not be welcome.

Floods inside the boat are even less welcome. Today, our shower-emptying system stopped working. This happened once before, on the Caldon canal, when we had my brother and his wife with us and had stopped outside the Hollybush Inn for the night. Amazing – in the pub I ran into Little Rich, who had worked at Great Haywood marina for a while, and done some work on Erin Mae's paintwork. He came on board, found the fuse for the pump, diagnosed the issue as FFF (don't ask!), and created a temporary workaround with a paper clip. He told us what his father had taught him – when you have a problem the solution is usually right under your feet. Except, he said, his father would probably have said it in Latin!

So I've removed the fuse, and fortunately we'll be passing a chandlery tomorrow for a nice new one. Hope that solves it. Taking up a board to get at the fuse I noticed that there has been a slight drip from one of the hoses. I expect a new Jubilee clip will sort that. I'm hoping it's not a perished hose, as that would be more complicated. Little Rich's philosophy is fine, but I really don't fancy messing around with more than I have to!

Narrows and Shallows

Coming through the woodland on your way towards Polesworth, you encounter one or two of these.

They look like the support for an old bridge, with the appropriate narrowing of the canal. But not only is there no corresponding structure on the other side, there is no obvious reason why anyone would need a bridge at that point. Nor does it look anything like either a toll point, and without slots for planks it cannot be a flood protection artefact.

This one, marked "1922" in the concrete, looks as though it might have been an exit for stream or drain, but it's all blocked inside and serves no apparent function now.

A bit further on the channel divides, with a rope across one entrance to the lay-by.

The intriguing thing about this piece of terra non-firma is the notice, at both ends.

Not only are we helpfully told what we will be in if we venture where we are not wanted, but we are also advised that the water in the lay-by is "not CRT water". Now that's intriguing! Do they mark the molecules in some way?

I can assure the owners of this lay-by that I feel no temptation whatsoever to wander onto their patch or experience their silt. My friend Halfie, on the other hand, likes to make sure he leaves no dead-end unvisited, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's negotiated access at some point!

Ducks

Most of the ducks you see on the canal are the typical brown variety. All through the season the mothers shepherd their broods of tiny offspring, which look hilarious as they skate at high speed across the surface to find their mum, if separated by the boat. But it is really hard to photograph them – brown against brown doesn't make for a compelling composition.

Now these white ones are different.

A quick internet search didn't resolve what type they might be. They don't look small enough to be the "Call" duck, and look much more like the "German Pekin" (Pekin Duck - Haha!). But the latter is said to be seriously endangered. These just look like albino mallards. Anyway, they waved us good-bye as we left our Hopwas mooring today.

On the way south I rang Fazeley Mill Marina to check (a) that they were open to do a pump-out, and (b) that we would probably have to reverse under their arch to put Erin Mae's pump-out ports next to the pump. The reversing went remarkably well, but the timing didn't.

Gypsy Lady had just done to the wharf for a pump-out as well, and I had to fiddle around for ages, trying to stop the breeze from putting me in compromising positions. In all this I discovered that the marina does in fact have enough space for me to have come in bows first and turned – but that with Gypsy Lady on the wharf, reversing in actually made it easier to avoid her.

It was worth the wait. Jackie gave Erin Mae a very effective pump-out, for as cheap as I'd got one in years. And when I heard the price of fuel, I got the diesel tank filled up as well.

We tied up near Fazeley Junction for lunch, and to do a quick visit to the Tesco Express. But that was when the rain started. We'd expected a light shower – instead it pelted down, and continued that way well into the afternoon. So we stayed where we were for the night. Weather for ducks may be par for the boating course, but we're getting a bit soft.

People

First thing, Rob and Joe were on our pontoon with a couple of poles. Before we knew it, they were propelling pontoon, Erin Mae and Swyfdon Spirit some yards towards Coventry.

When I called to Rob that this was unbelievable, he called back (and I quote): "This whole place is unbelievable!". Turned out they needed to get a boat out of the water up a ramp that we were blocking. On the way back, Robin promised to come and talk about the alternator problem, but in the end it was Nick and Nigel who came, because they had a boat with a similar problem and wanted to be part of the conversation. And then it was yet another engineer (Steve) who did some checks and fitted a new alternator. Not the cheapest solution, but the best one at this time. 

Then the bill for all the work! Best passed over. Finally we were ready to leave, except that a boat in need was trying to manoeuvre back to a mooring space. Poles in evidence again – that's Steve on the bows, helping.

So finally, finally, we said farewell to the pontoon where we've been since Monday. The service has been great and the people first-rate, but we shan't miss the pontoon!

It was very windy cruising down to Hopwas, but we didn't have any close encounters until we were tied up on the visitor moorings.

A boat coming through the bridge hit us and bounced down Erin Mae's side. Charity prohibits further photos or descriptions. On the other hand, across the water was a delightful family with a chatty daughter.

We had a great natter about ducks and boats and other things of interest. Then we met Steve (not the wharf's alternator engineer):

Visiting the UK from the States, though a Brit by birth, Steve stopped to ask about canals and narrowboats – with the intention of perhaps having an extended family canal holiday some time in the future. Great to meet you, Steve. We really enjoyed chatting about stuff.

And tonight we are not sleeping next to the A38.

Energy

Our re-furbished stove has, of course, a door.

And a very nice-looking door it is. Unfortunately, I found it impossible to close! No amount of force applied to the handle/catch would get it into position. So at 8 a.m. I was in the Wharf office, telling those Whom It Might Concern. Rob said he hadn't been able to close it either. He'd assumed I had some sort of knack, or was stronger than him (though, looking at his muscles…).

So he came and took it to the workshop, and found that underneath the rope seal a bit of rust had developed. Once that was cleaned off, and new rope glued in, everything was as it should be. Very little energy required to shut the door! I remember someone saying something about this some years ago, and will have to try and remember it for future occasions. If in doubt, clean the rust off!

So the only job left is the business of what Bad Thing is signified by the charging light coming on when the engine is running. Rob said they would be furiously busy in the yard today, all their energy devoted to some task that had to be completed for this afternoon, but he'd come by later. So I tried to get my head around what I thought was the issue. In the engine 'ole are two alternators, originally one for charging the domestic battery bank, and this one for putting energy into the battery for the starter motor.

From the wiring diagram I had an idea what the issue was, but it depended on a particular wire still being in place following some modifications we'd done back in 2013. And I couldn't find the wire anywhere!

The red one was in place, and the main output, but what about the brown and yellow wire? Finally, leaning over and twisting down and round I spotted it lurking behind some other tubing. Phew! Theory still in place, and in prospect a reasonable discussion with the wharf people about the problem.

Unfortunately they were busy all day (again). I have a nasty suspicion that tomorrow they will remove the alternator, send it to a local engineering specialist they use, for diagnosis and repair. And that this will take all weekend.

And that we shall be parked up 50 yards from the A38 for the whole time!