Dear Motley Crew,
Finally, after weeks of delay due to damaged locks, we were through the Atherstone flight and on our way to Coventry. At the Top Lock, we moored alongside a factory that must have been beautiful in its prime but today has the forlorn look of so many other factories that we’ve seen along the canals.
This was the last of three hat factories, that had, at one time, employed over 3,000 people. In its heyday, Atherstone was the centre of the hat industry, producing goods for both fashion houses and the Defence Forces.
By the 1990’s, however, a decline in hats as a fashion accessory – and world wars it has to be said – had sounded the death knell for the industry and the building fell into disrepair. Plans to breathe new life into it as luxury apartments have, sadly, come to nothing.
The city of Coventry was now firmly in our sights, although we were not sure what to expect from either it or the canal. We knew that we had to, at all costs, avoid the covin tree, otherwise we might well find ourselves – as did John Massey – encased in a gibbet for 20 years as a long-term deterrent to all who passed by. And we had noted the advice from other boaters to be on the look-out for shopping trolleys under bridges. However, we were uncertain and somewhat confused about the instruction to “count the coconuts” along the way. Nevertheless, we pressed on as we had an appointment to keep at the end of the line and there was no time to dally.
No sooner had we passed under this rather impressive entry bridge to the canal, than we began to see coconuts bobbing along beside us in the canal. Not a palm tree in sight mind you, just coconuts. It seems that Coventry now has a large Hindu population who, as part of their religious celebrations, make offerings to Maa Ganga, the symbol of Mother Earth. In the past, offerings such as tea-lights and cloth-wrapped gifts were made, however, these not only added to the general detritus in the canal, but they also fouled the propellors on boats. Negotiations between the canal authorities and the Hindu community saw the offerings restricted to coconuts which are biodegradable and seen as a symbol of fertility. Our tally, by the way, was 36.
The canal’s shallow depth limited our speed to around 2 mph but this afforded us the opportunity to take note of the buildings along the banks that spoke to Coventry’s industrial history. There on a bend was the old munitions factory, which, during WW2, produced general ammunition for the defence forces, as well as the 15” naval Ordnance guns.
Now that’s a job you can have on your own! I believe she’s cleaning the rifling
A little further along, we came upon these beautiful “Cash’s 100” buildings on the canal side.
Now modern apartments, they were built by the Cash brothers who were Quakers, to accommodate their workers. In keeping with the Quaker’s principles of caring and providing for their workers, the weaving looms were located on the top floors of the building whilst the workforce was housed on the lower floors.
We moored up in Coventry Basin, under the watchful eye of James Brindley, who, distracted as he was with studying his plans for yet another canal, barely paid us any heed.
I had not realised until arriving here, that Coventry had had such a diverse industrial past. In the early 1700’s, silk weaving and textiles were the mainstay, followed by the manufacture of clocks and watches, sewing machines and eventually bicycles. The skills developed and honed in these precision industries made Coventry an ideal site for the burgeoning automobile industry and its related factories such as casting and machining. The 1930’s saw Daimler, Jaguar and Rover all being built and assembled here, along with Triumph motorcycles.
It was not surprising then, given the breadth of experience and knowledge of the city’s workforce, that with the advent of the Second World War, many of these factories were able to switch their focus to the construction and assembling of goods for the war effort. As a result, Coventry began producing aircraft, motorbikes and trucks, along with tank engines, submarine parts, and munitions.
It was also not surprising, given the density of industry, that in November 1940, Coventry was the target of a concentrated air raid by German bombers that saw most of its factories, along with large areas of the city, reduced to rubble. In addition to the factories, Coventry Cathedral also suffered extensive damage during the Coventry Blitz.
It is recorded that the morning after the cathedral was destroyed, a decision was made to re-build, but rather than repair what had been damaged, a new cathedral was to be constructed, and the ruins left to stand as a symbol of peace and reconciliation.
Above an altar that has been built from the rubble, there stands a cross constructed from two charred, medieval roof timbers that had fallen during the fire. They had landed on the floor in the shape of a cross and so were erected as such, behind the altar, with the words ‘Father Forgive’ inscribed on the wall behind.
The tomb of Bishop Yeatman-Biggs was the only thing within the walls of the cathedral to survive the blitz
Further exploration of the city’s beautiful centre led us to the chateau-style Old Blue School. Built originally as a charity school for girls from impoverished backgrounds it is now doing service as a specialist music, maths and science college.
What a delight to turn a corner and to come upon one of Coventry’s most well-known, if not her most well-known resident – Lady Godiva. There she stands, proudly and fittingly, near the apex of The Council House – along with statues of Leofric, her husband, and Justice.
Lady Godiva’s much-reputed naked ride through the streets of Coventry was said to have been carried out as a protest against the oppressive taxation that Leofric, had imposed upon his tenants. During the ride, all residents were instructed to stay inside behind closed doors and windows, but legend has it, that the local tailor, Tom, was unable to resist the temptation to peep as she passed. Yes, you’re there ahead of me … the term “a peeping Tom” was born. I’m betting he’d wished he’d resisted, as legend also has it that he was struck blind for his transgression.
Unfortunately, due to the recently re-imposed Lockdown MK II, the art gallery was closed during our visit, but I believe that this painting is housed within.
Perhaps Tom thought that it was all worthwhile!
But all of this culture was getting in the way of our real reason for visiting Coventry, which was to collect a new addition for Matanuska – one composting toilet. It is said that within ten minutes of a group of narrowboat owners sitting down for a natter, the talk will invariably turn to toilets, and a debate will ensue as to the advantages and limitations of the three types available. Matanuska began life with a pump-out variety, was then converted to her current cassette type and now is about to be fitted with a composting version. Until now we have resisted the change, as all composting toilets currently on the market have been, well, bog-ugly. However, there’s a new kid on the block, and we have been won over. Built by a man, under instruction from his wife, it is, of course, perfect.
Toilet safely stowed, we wended our way back along the Coventry's arm towards Marston Junction and the Ashby-de-la-Zouch Canal, known simply as the Ashby.
A dead-end canal of 29 miles, our guidebook told us that eight hours would see us to the terminus. A week should do it we figured. Three weeks later, we emerged from the Ashby after one of our most interesting journeys yet.
The Captain, the Commodore and Mrs Chippy
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