Dear Motley Crew,
On the 10th of May, with both crew members now fully inoculated, Matanuska quietly slipped her berth at Blisworth Marina for what we anticipated would be the last time. It was with much eagerness that we were heading north once again, aiming, ultimately for Liverpool, but content on this first day, to travel just a few hours along the canal to sit in splendid isolation for a day or two. On this last leg of our English escapade, the plan was to venture along canals and rivers not previously explored, in addition to re-visiting some towns and villages through which we had passed last year. This time, however, in contrast to last year, we’d be experiencing some of these places in spring and summer, rather than the depths of winter, and we’d be contending with both leisure boaters and hire boaters, neither of whom were present on the canals in 2020. So, same but different.
Once again, we turned our backs on the canal and took to the villages and the footpaths,
finding touches of whimsey, that hinted that summer might, in fact, not be too far away
How joyous to walk along a public footpath that picked its way through a farm, and not have to contend with mud
Ahead of us now, two flights of staircase locks - firstly, Watford Locks and then Foxton. Created for steep gradients, staircase locks don’t have pounds or crossing points in between each gate. Instead, the top gate of one is also the bottom gate of the lock above, and so care has to be taken to ensure that locks below you are empty and locks above you are full.
At both flights, the locks empty into, and fill from side ponds, so as to save water. This is a method unique to only a few lock flights on the canal system and, as such, requires the paddles to be opened in a particular sequence. The mantra “red before white and you’ll be alright” played in my head as, windlass in hand, I apprehensively approached the staircase locks. I hoped fervently that the volunteer “lockies” would be working today.
They were. You exhale slowly and gratefully when you see the blue shirts and red life jackets at a long or complicated lock flight.
These guys – and girls – spend their days volunteering their time, all around the country, to assist boaters
Matanuska awaiting her turn to head
up the locks
The trip north was to be a leisurely one, planned to allow us time to explore several short canal arms – the Welford arm and the Market Harborough arm being the first of these.
The former was built primarily to feed water into the main Grand Union Canal from its reservoirs, but it was also used to transport limestone to the town of Welford which lies at the basin.
The crumbling remains of the lime kilns used to burn the limestone are still visible
As you will all know by now, churchyards are a favourite haunt for us – no pun intended – and Welford was no exception. Again, as in common with so many other churchyards that we have seen, we found it to be planted with yew trees.
We have puzzled for some time over this, and it seems, that as with most things, that the reason for this practice is complicated.
Some say that the trees were planted to purify the dead as they entered the underworld of Hades. Others assert that the toxins produced by the trees deterred farmers from grazing their cattle in graveyards, thus preserving both the ground and the bodies beneath. Either way, it seems that a churchyard is not a churchyard without its share of yew trees.
Villages tend to reveal the delightfully quirky side of humankind. I suspect that only Crew Members of a “certain age” will know this guy and his companion
We were now back on the main canal and heading towards Foxton Locks. Last year, we had ventured to Foxton to see the major repair work that was being done on the flight. This year, with the locks now serviceable again, we were going to take the boat down the flight on our way along the Leicester Line.
Again, “red before white and you’ll be alright”. Again, exhale – volunteer “lockies” on duty.
A right-hand turn at the base of the locks took us onto the Market Harborough arm, which ultimately terminated at the basin, where old warehouses now house residents rather than workers.
and “Frank the Plank” – a “human sundial” – marks the hours in the canal basin
In Market Harborough itself, we found a town that was gradually re-awakening after lock-down, although many of the museums were still to re-open.
There was the church of St Dionysius, with its steeple rising directly from the pavement.
Bizarrely, and perhaps uniquely, the church has no churchyard. No yew trees here
It does, however, have a sundial complete with adage, or perhaps a directive
I was fairly stunned to read that the church bells are rung every November to commemorate the rescue of a merchant lost on the Welland marshes in 1500. This country has some very odd traditions!
The adjacent Old Grammar School has become emblematic of Market Harborough. Built in 1614, it was specifically intended to educate the impoverished children of the town, however, by 1673, it is recorded that the majority of its 60 students were the children of local nobility and gentry. The “Class of 1908” was to be its last.
The building was designed on stilts to allow local farmers’ wives to use the undercroft as a weekly butter market
This beautiful building, now doing service as the Council Chambers, began life in the 1830’s, as the Symington Corset Factory
Just looking at these makes my eyes water!
Thankfully, towards the end of the 19th century, Symingtons began producing the Liberty Bodice, an undergarment intended to “liberate women” from the heavily boned and constrictive corset. It seems that the Victorian Dress Reform and the Women’s Emancipation Movement gave us more than Votes for Women.
Back once again on the Leicester Line, and heading towards the River Soar, we moored up in a spot that was stunning both by day,
and by night.
We spotted our first goslings for 2021
And the first flowerings of clematis and wisteria.
As we prepared to begin our run onto the River Soar, word came through that, as a result of all the rain that had fallen over the previous week, the river was flooded, and, as a consequence, closed to all navigation. Nothing for it then but to settle in for the duration and wait it out.
The Captain, The Commodore, and Mrs Chippy
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