Black, black, black and white, blacking…

12 Apr

Written By Boatwif

Black is the colour of April, on this boat at least.Forsythia in flower can be startling, , new leaves are light and refreshing, ranks of bright tulips in tubs might seem straight and proud – but it is black that has come to dominate this Cleddau trip.The boat is being headed south for one of those procedures that all well maintained boats should periodically undergo, the blacking of her bottom… She’ll be jet-washed to have any debris removed from the hull, followed by two applications of two pack epoxy paint to provide waterproof and protective coatings on the lower hull and bottom. There’s no colour choice – for boat blacking the paint is - BLACK…!Cleddau’s bottom-blacking procedure was booked in for mid-April months ago. It will happen at Red Bull Basin at Kidsgrove in Staffordshire. The weather is a factor: it isn’t a job for icy or wet conditions and there’d be a cruise involved to get her there (25 miles, 13 locks and 2 swing bridges). At 4-5 hours travel a day that would mean allowing about 3 days.But then – but then, there were water levels to consider. The upper level of the Macclesfield Canal (518 feet above sea level) is supplied by water from the Toddbrook Reservoir at Whaley Bridge (remember the crisis of the possibility of dam collapse in the deluge of 1^st August 2019...) Reservoir water levels for the Upper Peak Forest and Macclesfield Canals are at an historic low, only 44% capacity because of repair and engineering works – and the 12 lock flight at Bosley is open for short hours on only three days per week…Plans had to be made; passage down through Bosley Locks was essential and to meet the boatyard date the locks had to be done on a Saturday.And so, on a Thursday, in far from ideal conditions, Cleddau was squeezed out of her Victoria Pit mooring during a brief lull in the squalls of biting weather from the north. Neither the pontoon neighbour nor the blue boat moored against the towpath opposite was touched – and Cleddau was turned north, to wind at High Lane, then to head south. 55 minutes later Cleddau’s winter resting place was passed and left behind. It may be the preamble to the summer cruise but black skies, squally cold showers, hail and biting cold winds meant summer seemed a very distant dream! It was going to be too late, too far and too cold to press on that day to Macclesfield – but the Captain had an inspirational idea. “If we could get to Bollington perhaps we could go for breakfast in the café in the morning…?”Such plans will only work if there is a mooring space – and there was! Friday. Cooked breakfasts like this must be strictly rationed… Oh, wasn’t that black pudding on the Captain’s plate? It was a bright and blue morning to move on to Macclesfield. (Look, a Canada goose on a nest and a very large fence post lodged under the bow…) Before the hail showers returned (“But it is April,” explained Cheshire Mum, the meteorologist. “You would expect April showers…”) there was a local stroll into nearby Victoria Park. There’s an immaculate bowling green, a bandstand, precisely planted borders – and a newly planted tree. Just after 8am on Saturday morning Cleddau crept past Hovis Mill and out towards the Macclesfield suburbs. There was still ice on the solar panels and frost on the fields. The route is familiar – onwards through the manually operated swing bridge at Danes Moss and the electrically operated swing bridge at Oakgrove. There was time to top up with water before liaising with the Cheshire Three at Lock Number 1. The forecast for a sunny morning was distinctly mischievous as the first of numerous short sharp hail showers hammered down. The locks had been unpadlocked at 0830, it was now 1040. A boat was just emerging from the top lock. “There are eight boats going down ahead of you,” explained the lock keeper, “and eleven to come up.”Cleddau had four windlass wielders. “I’ll need a reminder,” said the Cheshire One, “my brain is full of exam stuff!” From time to time the skies blackened and hail spat down on boats and crews.Progress down the first 5 locks was smooth. Word filtered back then that there was a single hander on a workboat ahead. In the lock ahead of him was a boat stalled by an upcoming single-hander who was wedged in lock 8 by his fenders…Above lock 7 the workboat couldn’t get close to the towpath as water levels were low. When finally Lock 7 was available for the workboat a fair amount of barge pole application was needed to release it from the silt – and about 15 minutes later there was Cleddau stuck in exactly the same place. Techno Son-in-Law’s long arms and legs proved useful, twice! Notice the low water level and the height of the water overspill. Onward, leaky locks, blossom on the trees beside locks 9 and 11, chiffchaffs singing above lock 10, then no further upcoming boats and a pause at the bottom for some emergency sustenance… Cleddau moved on, past ‘Baa, baa black sheep’ and pygmy goats, past the black and white house at Crossley Hall, under several bridges to moor at the open stretch with unbroken views up to The Cloud. (View from the dining table on Saturday evening). Sunday. The canal skirts Congleton well above the town centre but boat crews are not sold short of structures to look at. There’s the railway viaduct striding across the Dane in Shaw Pasture, the cluster of bridges (2 road and one railway) at High Town, the short Dog Lane Aqueduct high above a road leading out of the town, the Congleton Wharf buildings (and the three resident geese) and finally the three giraffes, ornaments in someone’s back garden… Cleddau continued southwards to moor beside the handsome black and white Ramsdell Hall railings. Late afternoon during a local walk black and white lambs were spotted and then, not black and white at all, but twin light blue and yellow flags, the flags of Ukraine, flying high above the Heritage Marina entrance. An uneventful stroll suddenly became more interesting – approaching now was the old British Waterways workboat which had overheated shortly after Bosley Locks. Quite some time had been needed to effect a repair, apparently. (“Thank your family again for all their help on the locks,” called the helmsman). The moored up Cleddau was in sight now, laundry flapping on the whirlygig at the stern. But who/what was passing the boat? A gum-booted man seemed to be in front, but behind was a cow and two other folk. Were they friends? Towpath walkers? Escorts? Who knew… The cow stopped, tried to turn back, moved forward and then addressed several loud mooing calls across the canal to a herd of cows on the opposite bank.Over time the cow was persuaded and nudged forward, though often she tried to turn back. “She’s called Nutmeg,” explained one of the escorts. Rather like the Pied Piper ‘Nutmeg’ was gathering more followers, three further folk appearing. There was confusion, the gum-booted chap racing back to the farm for a gadget, there was talk of a bolt cutter for a gate and someone in the field behind the railings wanting sympathy for engaging a finger with the barbed wire.Somehow the situation was resolved, Nutmeg was persuaded off the towpath into the field – and then taken over the farm bridge to be contained, it seemed, in cowshed isolation.Such are the minutiae and the distractions of towpath life!Monday. The final (short) day was a great day for sailing – but less so for narrow boating. With a strong easterly wind it was a hard job to get away from the overnight mooring. Flags streamed at Heritage and at Teapot Hall, the winds tearing down from the Mow Cop ridge. It was a relief to reach the canal cutting from Scholar Green and to approach the Hall Green stop lock in relative calm. The Captain brought the boat under the (now) all black footbridge, the boat dropping down the very few inches of the lock, then moving the final half mile to Red Bull Aqueduct.And so, despite the wind, it was done. Cleddau was within metres of her Tuesday morning appointment...While Cleddau rocked and rolled throughout the afternoon the Captain sourced more silicon sealant for the leaky starboard side window – who would have thought that breaks and perished sections in this black strip could have required so many investigations and applications of Capt. Tolley’s Creeping Crack Cure? May all rain now stay outside the boat!

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Rounding the corner into Red Bull Basin at 8am on Tuesday morning before heavy rain made the transfer of stuff between boat and car a rather wet affair!