Dear Motley Crew,
Once again, we found ourselves at Hawkesbury Junction, the point at which the Oxford Canal meets up with the Coventry Canal.
This is one of those places on the system, that attracts gongoozlers like iron filings to a magnet, for the challenge here is to execute a 90° left-hand turn followed immediately by another 90° left-hand turn, and the chances of it going horribly wrong are very high indeed. I wonder if the publican at the Greyhound Inn charges extra for the canal-side seating in the pub’s marquee. I also wonder how many boats have collided with said marquee in their desperation to affect the manoeuvre under the bemused and critical gaze of the diners.
Thankfully for us, on this occasion at least, we correctly calculated angles times propulsion, allowing for 27% butterscotch ripple and 4% evaporation, which resulted in a perfect tack that took us, unscathed, onto the next leg of our journey.
Both north and south branches of the Oxford Canal are very popular cruising routes, but for the life of me, I cannot understand why. In January we crawled along the southern section towards Banbury, seeing nothing to inspire us, and we were finding the northern section to be similarly unimpressive. Perhaps after all the hype, we were expecting the Hanging Gardens of Babylon or the eruption of Vesuvius but neither were in evidence as we made our way towards Rugby.
Rugby will of course need no introduction to anyone, as it is a widely known fact that in April of 1645, Oliver Cromwell– along with two regiments of Roundhead troops – stayed at The Shoulder of Mutton Inn.
Given that there are 650 men to a regiment, that would have been something of an achievement in a hostelry of that size.
Another perhaps lesser-known fact about Rugby is that in 1823, in a school football match between Rugby and Bigside, one William Webb Ellis suddenly, and unexpectedly, picked up the ball in two hands and ran forwards with it down the length of the pitch. To this day, his motivation remains unclear – perhaps he had become impatient with the lack of progress in the game, or perhaps he was frozen to the marrow and in desperate need of a hot shower – but from the look of this recording of the day’s events, I suspect that it was to escape the sledging from the fellow on the left who was clearly questioning young Bill’s parentage.
No matter the rationale, the Ellis boy ran into the history books and I’ll bet his dad – whoever he was – was proud of him!
We continued along the canal, towards Hillmorton Locks, with a degree of apprehension. For some unknown reason, these locks are the busiest on the entire system, and, although they are paired locks, in the high season, you can wait up to five hours to pass through. Technically, one side should be full and the other side empty, thus allowing boats to move up and down at the same time.
Our concerns were groundless as on this occasion, we were the only boat moving, and we were through in no time
Much of this year’s cruising has been defined by lockdowns, emergency lock repairs, and closures, and this last leg was apparently going to be no different. Buckby locks, the ones just up ahead of us, had been closed for a fortnight for emergency repairs but were due to re-open in two day's time. Our plan, therefore, was to head to Braunston where we’d sit on the canal for those two days until the repairs were finalised. Once through Buckby locks, we’d make our way to our wintering point at Blisworth Marina. However, as Taylor Swift astutely observed, ‘just because you made a plan, doesn’t mean that’s what’s gonna happen”!
As we steamed towards Braunston, we received an email from Canal and River Trust that put paid to that hope. The problem with the locks was more extensive than at first thought, we were informed, and a further fortnight would now be required to complete the works.
Time to re-calculate - again.
We had tradespeople booked to service Matanuska’s engine and to measure up for a new pram cover, and we didn’t want to lose those hard-won bookings. In the end, we decided to moor up in the marina at Braunston, so that the work could be done there, rather than at Blisworth. Smart move as it turned out. The canal moorings at Braunston were chock-a-block with boats awaiting passage through the locks, and the Elsan, the toilet emptying point, was out of order – again! The weather was now beginning to close in and the attraction of water and power on tap over the colder days was strong.
The Ice Man cometh!
There was nothing for it then, but to take in the highlights of Braunston.
It’s as well we were only there for a short time as the carnivores on the crew seemed determined to sample as many of the offerings as possible.
I know, I know, Christmas is so yesterday but this little treasure was spotted on a window-sill
All Saints' Church has been given the rather grandiose title of "Cathedral of the Canals", as it overlooks the confluence of the Oxford and the Grand Union Canals. As you make the run into Braunston, the church is visible for miles before you come into the village.
The Oxford Canal meets the Grand Union Canal at Braunston and these beautiful cast-iron bridges mark the junction.
Braunston is also renowned for hosting the Historic Boat Rally each year in June. Thousands of onlookers descend on the village, along with hundreds of canal boats, all keen to see the display of old working boats.
Recognise either of these rather famous narrow boaters? Timothy West on the left-hand side and David Suchet on the far right.
We also took time out to meet up with some of the locals. And before you ask, no, it’s not a crook, it’s a broom and I often take it with me on walks!! 😄
Finally, word came through that the repairs to the locks had been completed and we could head off. The extra two-week delay meant that we now had less than a week to get to the marina, pack, and head to the airport as we were off to Turkey for Christmas. Ahead of us lay 16 double locks, and a tunnel; time to make a move.
The lock paddles and gates at Braunston are incredibly heavy and difficult to operate. When we’d come through them twelve months ago, we did so with another boat that had a crew of six males, all eager to do the work for us.
This time, however, we were on our own as most boats were already moored up along the canal for winter or had taken berths in marinas. To be sure, fewer boats on the waterway meant no congestion on the canals or at the locks, but it also meant I’d be working the double locks alone. And as luck would have it, as we neared the first lock, it began to rain.
Rain was still falling as we cleared the last of the six locks. Ahead, we had a tunnel, and then about an hour’s cruising before we would reach Norton Junction and Buckby Locks, so we moved on at a fair clip – well, we must have topped three miles an hour at least!
Not an approaching boat; just the light at the end of the tunnel. Always nice when you can see the end of the tunnel as you enter – that re-assures you that there are no bends along its length
At 2,042 yards (1,867 m) in length, Braunston tunnel rates at a lowly number 15 on the list of canal tunnels – a lightweight really. Its 4.8 metre width allows for two boats to pass, although when you see the headlight of an approaching boat, fear grips you, and you are certain that you will both end up wedged together in the dark!
Norton Junction, where the Grand Union Leicester Arm leaves the Main Line and meanders off towards Crick, is watched over by this picturesque cottage, that was the retirement home of the Salvation Army’s Major and Mrs Fielding.
For many years, this remarkable pair could be seen travelling along the Grand Union Canal in their 70-foot narrowboat Salvo, ministering to the spiritual needs of the canal folk.
Our arrival at Norton Junction also alerted us to the fact that we'd arrived at Bucky Locks. These locks lend their name to a range of distinctive and intricately painted cans that were, in the days of the working boats, made and sold from the Top Lock Cottage. The cans, decorated with castles and roses, were used by the early boating families, for carrying drinking water, and the women on the boats, painted these practical articles so that they became items of beauty.
The large water tanks on today’s narrowboats have done away with the practical need for these cans, but they can still be purchased, and are often seen adorning many of the more traditional boats around the system.
By late afternoon we’d made it down the flight, having done most of the seven locks on our own, so by day’s end, we were keen to find a mooring, strip off the wet gear, and settle in front of the fire with a whiskey.
The next day was one of those “you’d-only-travel-if-you-had-to” days – cold, windy, and wet – but as we were now travelling to a timetable, we had no choice but to brave the elements. At around 4 pm, we gratefully turned off the canal into the marina and negotiated our way into our allocated berth. We were tired, wet, and shivering with the cold and for once, it was good to be off the canal.
The Captain, The Commodore, and Mrs Chippy
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