Lancashire living

Lancashire comes into its own along this stretch of the canal. We’re surrounded by rich open farmland full of crops, no uninspiring supermarket, but farm shops in barns selling potatoes that still smell of earth and taste so good you don’t need anything else on your plate, except perhaps a bit of butter.

You dont get this in a supermarket

Of course good crops don’t grow with out that essential element and whilst we are still grinning from ear to ear about being back in the countryside, I was reminded of another reason I’d enjoyed a long winter in Liverpool.

Muddy towpaths


But being surrounded by wild flowers makes up for it.


We’re sometimes asked if not having a permenant base makes canal life lonely, but not at all. It’s amazing what a small world it is, during our few days at Downholland we discovered our neighbour and I had attended the same secondary school, albeit just a few years before me, but never the less we traded names of friends and acquaintances we had in common, and it turned out he had also owned a Braidbar boat for some year.

Mooring at Downholland

So it was a lovely surprise to find our next mooring spot would also become a social occasion-OK, we did know John and Martina on Burnt Oak was cruising in this area so not a total surprise.

Halsall

It didnt take long for Martina and I to grab our fold up chairs, find our fibre and start spinning together

Towpath Twizzlers

Martina is setting up a small business and has a roving traders licence to sell hand dyed yarn and fibre. The first week of a pandemic isn’t the ideal time to launch a new venture, but Jubilee Fibres will be making an appearance at events along the Towpath in the future, but I was lucky to restock my own stash with some lovely kingfisher blue. Martina explained to me why she chose the name and logo Jubilee Fibres. The word Jubilee comes from the Hebrew, to celebrate. And Hebrew celebrations often included the blowing of a rams horn, which looks very similar to a canal bridge. Some great combination of symbolism.

The Joy of being back on the canal

The metropolitan borough of Sefton might not hold the most beautiful section of canal, but after being cooped up for 8 months we smiled at CRTs latest advertising banner.

Sound advice

We woke to a family of goslings cutting across the calm reflection at Litherland, but knowing the forecast was predicted to hit the 30’s we didn’t hang around. And off we set, cruising freely again. Although we weren’t sure if the geese were seeing us off.

Too many to count

And the herons were providing a guard of honour

Nice tho see Herons again

It was a joy to see such a variety of wildlife again

Coots on their nest

Perhaps some was a little stranger than we expected.

Whatever floats your boat

And we’re not sure that exercise suits everyone

On the road to nowhere

One of the events to be cancelled during Lockdown was the Aintree Grand National. I wonder how many of those race goers have any idea what the turn at Canal Corner looks like on the outside of the fence.

Canal Corner


There are too many trees for us to see the course properly

The Aintree race course

So we carried on our way. We had been worried that the canal would have become a dumping ground with the council tips closed. To some extent we were right, but although there were a number of big plastic items bobbing around, we only had to stop once to remove the urban jelly fish from the prop. We hadn’t expected our journey to be stopped by a carpet of waterlillies

Are we still on the Canal?

We continued our journey though Maghull and into Lancashire, I’d had to open 7 swing bridges on today’s journey.

Yet another swing bridge

But I was well rewarded with views of fields with yellow rape and red poppies

Fields of gold

And dog daisies growing along the bank.

Dog daisies

Oh the sheer joy of being back on the canal, Anyone would think we hadn’t enjoyed Liverpool, which is wrong, we had made the most of a completely different lifestyle, it had been like being on a good holiday, but we were glad to be back home. One thing remained the constant. Our evening sunset.

Sunset at Downholland Cross

Moving on, Breaking free and setting sail

At long last we’re able to cruise again.
Back in March when the country realised the need to protect ourselves from the looming pandemic, we mulled over how we felt, were we safer or more at risk in a big city like Liverpool. There were pros and cons but on balance we decided safer. With a tall harbour wall protecting the handful of boaters from the general public and a fully serviced pontoon, we only needed to emerge when we chose, the food shops were an easy walk so we considered ourselves very lucky, when CRT made the decision to lock us in. Shortly after, the whole canal system was shut down with only essential travel permitted. Even the towpaths became off limits as well meaning passers by stopped to talk to moored boaters. We knuckled down for an unknown future, even fearing a second winter in Liverpool. I reinstated my nursing registration and volunteered to work at the Nightingale Northwest in Manchester, but thankfully the NHS coped and I wasn’t needed.
Unsure of when we would be allowed to cruise, we lost our first companions in mid May, when they arranged to have their boat craned out and transported by road to where they needed to be.

Cruising to the marina ready to be cranes out


At the end of May, 3 more of our friends made a bid for freedom even though the rules still remained not to use locks.

Nb Buffalo leaving via the Albert Dock

Another 2 followed the week after, we weren’t looking forward to cruising through all that weed and other debris thrown into the canal, whilst council tips remained off limits.

Thwarted only 10 minutes after setting off

By now we were getting weekly phone calls from the CRT office as the guidance was updated. The final 3 boats agreed to go our on June 17th. We weren’t too pleased to get a call on the 16th asking us to stay put another week, but we dutifully complied. And at 8am on 24th June 2020 with huge smiles on our faces, we finally all set off.

Sun’s shining, life jackets on and ready to go

The Green boat, as we affectionately called it cause their name isn’t painted on the side went first

The green boat, clearing the way

We were next

Entering Albert Dock

One of the advantages of travelling in convoy is receiving photos of Firecrest in fantastic places

Getting ready to go through Mann Island Lock

Thankfully the weed had been dispersed as we cruised under the watchful eyes of the Liver birds

Firecrest enjoying a clear run

The reward for waiting an extra week, was that lock keepers were back from furlough, so even though we had enough crew between us we only had to get off the boat to record the day

You’d imagine we’d run out of conversation after 8 months, but no

Sid has been looking after this stretch since it’s creation nearly 20 years ago and in recognition, the narrow channel between West Waterloo Dock and Trafalgar Dock is known as Sid’s Ditch. We had the honour of being accompanied by Sid as he hitched a lift on Bluebell’s bow.

Sid in Sid’s ditch on Bluebell

The volunteers were out in force, all happy to do the hard work to help us through the Stanley flight

We weren’t quite ready to say goodbye to our friends as we all moored up for the night at Litherland. And I was rewarded with another evening sunset

Sunset at Litherland

We all slept well that night.

With many thanks to Andy, Angie, Avril, Becka, Darren, David, Freya, James, Kitti, Little Darren, Mark, Paul, Reuben, Sharon, Sid, Stuart, Tam, the bin men, the checkout assistants, the CRT team the Dock security, the volunteers, and our families and anyone whose name I have missed off by mistake. Thankyou for helping us through Lockdown, stay safe x.

From Litherland to the Stanley Lock Flight

Farewell Leeds and Liverpool canal. Today we were about to complete the final 5 miles our 127 mile journey from Leeds into Liverpool Our passage through the Stanley flight onto the Liverpool Canal Link was booked for 1 o’clock. Our family wanted to share the experience of this epic stage with us, so we stocked up at Tesco and collected Aunty from the train station, and off we set. The astute with realise my diary is being written from memory as this was actually 2 months ago at the end of September. We said goodbye to Litherland

Litherland terraces

And set off through Bootle, not the most desirable places to visit.

Hurrying as quickly as possible, though quickly wasn’t really an option as the water was still diluted with weed and plastic and the best way to avoid fouling your prop is to take it slowly.

One Mile Marker

We did get some tantilising views of what was to come, as the Anglican cathedral came into sight in the far distance, although the sunshine wasn’t making it easy to look straight ahead.

First glimpse of the cathedral

Under the Boundry Bridge, although the area is so built up I’m not quite sure what Boundry it sits upon, probably Bootle and Liverpool.

Boundary Bridge

And into Eldonian village, which is the end of the line, the 127miles of the Leeds and Liverpool canal,

 where we picked up Lynne and Reuben

Before turning right into the Stanley Lock Flight, the Liverpool Link Canal

Arriving at the Stanley flight

And we’re now waiting in the top lock of the Stanley lock flight waiting to go into Liverpool. It’s not often I’ll split one days journeying into two pages but the passage into Liverpool deserves it’s own page.


Another Place, coming home to Crosby

It was with a little trepidation that Firecrest cruised through Crosby, to Litherland. It is the very last stop before we reach Liverpool. Why? Because Crosby is where I started life’s big  adventure over 50 years ago. And I had such a happy childhood. Unlike Eric in Leeds, I was reluctant to go and see if the palacial mansion with a 100 rooms that I knew as home, was really just a Victorian red brick semi, like everyone else’s. It’s also where I first ventured onto a canal when Dad thought it would be a good idea for me and him to build a Canadian canoe in the cellar of our home. I was about 7 or 8. He built a wooden frame, then my job was to staple and glue on three layers of mahogany veneer strips. She was a beautiful boat, big enough to take all 4 of us and a tent. We launched her on the Leeds and Liverpool canal, probably somewhere around Lydiate, though I can’t be sure. But who would have thought that over half a century later I’d be living on a narrowboat with a man born in Leeds, reminiscing about my early years.

Of course so much has changed, these southern Lancashire towns have been swallowed up by the borough of Sefton and become part of Mersyside. And what I remember being grand and palacial is now littered with run down boarded up eyesores. And ironically what I remember as being dodgy areas, including the flotsam strewn sandunes of Crosby beach and the Liverpool Docks have been revitalised, made accessible, and are now the place to go.

Crosby Beach has now become quite a tourist attraction because of a permanent art installation called “Another Place.”  It consists of 100 cast iron figures placed over 2 miles of sandy beach, all looking out to sea. Initially they caused some controversy as they are modelled on the artist’s, Antony Gormley, naked body, but nowadays they are adorned with barnacles, rust and occasional dressing up clothes provided by concerned passers by.

Another Place sculpture

I’m a great fan of installation art. I don’t like it all, but I do like that it makes me stop and think, and look at the surroundings. I do like this piece.

Crosby beach has always been a vast open space, facing west so commandering spectacular sunsets, (clouds permitting) and on clear days you can see across to Wales, and I’m sure I remember the Blackpool tower being pointed out to the north, but perhaps that was from Southport. Today it’s an off shore wind farm and drilling platform that dominates the horizon.

 And looking south takes you towards the mouth of the Mersey, its the towering cranes of the modernised dockland.

Firecrest was moored in Litherland, on the official visitor moorings. waiting for our booked passage through the Stanley flight. Not the most salubrious of places but with a giant Tesco right next door  and boaters “facilities” certainly very convenient.

Browsing around Burscough

We’re always excited by how much there is to see in an area, and saddened by how blinkered we were when we were land based. Usually  we don’t feel the need to go beyond walking distance of Firecrest, but Burscough has a train station so I took the opportunity to visit Southport, where my Aunty and cousins lived during my teenage years. Then I’d been interested in cheap fashion and exploring my “new romantic” image, it’s where I saw the first Star wars film and had a crush on Mark Hamill. Now I saw the beautiful Victorian buildings and the covered walkway and arcades along Lord Street. Sadly Southport looked tired and run down, which is such a shame, it’s a high street worth celebrating even though I am no longer a fashionista, (was I ever) Red Rum still stands proudly in Wayfayrers Arcade.

Southport

Burscough also is home to Emma Maye, The Wool Boat, yes a whole narrowboat dedicated to selling wool,

Home of the wool boat

Although they were cruising in Cheshire they had returned by road to attend the knit and Natter at the Slipway Pub, and I was able to catch up with them and a super group of knitters, who made me very welcome when I joined them.

The Slipway at Burscough

There are some gorgeous cottages along the cut

Cottages on New Lane

And some “Interesting” homes between here and Liverpool

Merseyside madness

A Family Affair

Now that Firecrest has passed through Wigan, we have reached the area I grew up in. For despite my numerous addresses, I’m a Lancashire girl-or was until they redrew the county lines and it became Merseyside. I have fond memories of place names, places we drove through before the motorways made escaping north to the Lake District a more sanitised journey. I still have aunties, uncles and cousins in this area, all wanting to see Firecrest and our alternative lifestyle. So when we got to Parbold, Aunty Avril, Mum and Mike joined us as we cruised from Parbold to Burscough

Any excuse for a party

It was a good day to have company, showing off all the lovely aspects of narrowboating, pretty bridges

 And colourful countryside

pumpkin patch at Burscough
Pumpkins at Burscough

And me hopping on and off, showing just how capable I am at hauling the boat in and working locks and swing bridges.

Looks like I’m enjoying myself

We cruised past the Rufford Arm, that’ll be next years route, and moored up in Burscough just in time to enjoy a perfect sunset

Sunset at Burscough

Cousin Lynne and her children Reubin and Freya joined us a few days later,

They were keen to join in and help with the swing bridges, and they made a good crew.

That’s lorra lorra locks

Not far now

There are a lot of locks on the 127 miles of the Leeds and Liverpool canal, 91 to be precise, and the next 12 miles of our journey was to include 30 of them.
We started our week at Johnson’s Locks visitor mooring where the Top Lock pub serves pizza and charges you the time on clock face. So at ten past three we were ready for a very late lunch/early tea and had an acceptable pizza for £3.10

Johnson’s locks visitor’s moorings

We were well fuelled and geared up for what lay ahead but when Heather and Anthony said they’d like to visit us, we made sure we “just happened” to be at the top of the Wigan flight when they arrived. Knowing I’d have a crew and hopefully some volunteers to feed I made cake and cookies.

Wonder if that’s enough

But it was the bacon butties that tempted Tim to hop on a train and join us for the day.

What a view

The Wigan flight descends 200feet through 21 locks. Sadly these locks are old and leaky and prone to vandalism so they are kept locked and passage is restricted to certain times of the day. We made it to the top lock just in time, before they were fastened shut for the day.

Arriving at the top lock

It’s the first time Anthony has been narrowboating but he took to locking like a pro.

We’re on our way

It’s always a debate about who has drawn the short straw, the helmsman or the lock labourers, but I knew the Wigan locks are short and leaky and it would be Eric that had to dodge the deluge. I’ll take the dry land any day.

Arriving at the bottom Lock

We made it through the bottom lock in 3 hours 2 minutes. And we were all still smiling. We even had enough energy left to walk further along to find the famous Wigan Pier.
It’s thought that Wigan pier became an icon when a train excursion to Southport was delayed and to keep the passengers amused this little coal loading jetty was given an elevated status. That particular “pier” was demolished in the early 1900s, so various protrusions in the location claim the historic title now, this one being the most like the original.

Tim and Anthony on the pier

Tim could only stay for the day but Heather and Anthony enjoyed another night on board, if only so they could have a proper boaters breakfast.

That’s a good breakfast

And as a final reward for all their efforts, Ant got to prove that he doesn’t just like fast cars but slow boats also have a certain appeal.

Anthony at the helm

 We’d better watch out he’s a natural. But we had to say goodbye to our helpers as they had to be at work the day.

What a team

Only 30 miles to go now.

Gawthorpe Hall and the Shuttleworth Textile collection

Whilst we were travelling through the abandoned industrial heritage of the Lancashire mills, we came across a National Trust Property within walking distance of the canal. Gawthorpe Hall at Hapton.

Gawthorpe Hall
Gawthorpe Hall

Never one to miss an opportunity I set off to indulge in a bit of house fantasy. The Hall’s origins were in the 14th century when the pele tower was build to fend off the marauding Scots. As with most old buildings like this, it’s been added to to and renovated many times over as fortunes waxed and wained.  What we see now is basically a 16th century Elizabethan country house that’s had a Victorian makeover. The guides were keen to point out that a lot of the internal structure was designed by Pugin, who had a hand in the Houses of Parliament. It was intended to be, and is, all very grand and ornate. My house fantasy prefers something with a few less nooks and crannies that need dusting.

What an Artex ceiling could look like

I was however bowled over by the Rachel Shuttleworth textile collection. Rachel was the last of the “family” to live in the hall, she was a great needlewoman, educator and philanthropist. In fact my Aunty spent a lot of time studying lace making in the hall. It was all very inspirational.

Now that’s my idea of an office

The other artifact inside the Hall that caught my eye was the Davy Automatic Fire escape.

The Davy Automatic Safety Fire Escape

It’s gears and braking system ensure a controlled descent. And it reassuringly says “do not hesitate, it is perfectly safe” and that these mechanisms are still for sale today.

Safer than jumping from the top floor

I always like to look out of the window and the Gawthorpe Hall garden is bordered by the Lancashire River Calder. The course of this river has been altered several times to enhance to view and to allow opencast coal mining in the fields behind the tree line. There are several Calder Rivers in the UK. The word Calder derives from celtic origins, meaning hard rapid water.

Looking out towards the River Calder and the now landscaped opencast coal field

On the other side of the hall, in a drought year, you can look down onto a ghost garden. As the outlines of the old Elizabethan garden emerge through the grass. I’m not sure whether to say luckily or unluckily I didn’t get to see this phenomenon, suffice to say that the Leeds and Liverpool canal has not suffered from water shortages this summer.

The ghost garden ( photo from google)

We didn’t linger long, as we’d got a break in the weather and set off cruising south towards Blackburn with the Forest of Bowland to our north west.

Looking back over Blackburn

Lancashire’s industrial waterway

The next few days took us through some Lancashire mill towns. These places grew and thrived during the industrial revolution, when 1.5 million bales of cotton were imported through Liverpool Docks. Sadly as with so many areas like this, modern technology and cheap labour closer to where cotton is grown has left a lot of derelict buildings which didn’t encourage us to linger

What a sad state of affairs

but when the sun shone we certainly had something to reflect upon.

reflection of a Blackburn mill
Seeing the mills in a good light

We were very glad when we cruised through Nelson and saw this facility. Eric had just done a service on our generator so we had a few litres of dirty oil looking for a home,  a dedicated Canal Users Recycling Point and oil bank made us very excited and between bridges 141b and c has been marked on our map. 

Pendle oil bank

We made another stop shortly after this, as the huge Burnley Tesco is conveniently right next to the canal. Although I prefered the view opposite. And as the benches were inhabited by several drunks, not somewhere we wanted to stay overnight.

Looking towards Burnley FC

And the canal kept traversing the M65 motorway, which always makes us smile as we enjoy our snails pace.

M65

And it’s here, by bridge 112, in a small village called Church, near Accrington, we realised that we had reached exactly half way inbetween Leeds and Liverpool. 63 5/8 miles each way. It had taken us 38 days to get this far.

Half way

As we were busy looking at the fancy art work we noticed a fire engine parked up and 3 officers throwing a rescue line into the canal.

Hope they know what they’re doing

Thankfully they were just practicing, so we stopped to watch and learn as we have also chosen to have one of these life savers on board in preference to a traditional bulky ring.

20m rescue throw line
Our 20m rescue throw line

Hopefully we’ll never have to use it, but as it lives on the coat hooks at the stern, it’s easily accessible should one of us ever go for an unintentional swim.

A beautiful but unwanted warehouse in Blackburn