Caxton's Travels

Being the August bank holiday, the weather had been forecast to be rubbish as usual. It was dry but a bit chilly when we emerged into the daylight. After the usual engine checks we started up and were about to leave when Sue’s new best friend Lindy came out of her (ware)house and told us that if we left we would miss the annual fete. We expressed our sorrow but explained that we really had to move on. We met a few boats on our climb out of Berkhamsted and a number of the locks were in our favour so we made reasonable progress. On two occasions we were hampered by paddles left partly open on the offside, not open enough to be obvious but certainly enough to slow the filling of those locks. The rain started at around eleven when we were working the first of the Dudswell locks. We met two boats coming down the next lock, both crewed by hapless souls. The lockwheeler on the opposite side asked how many gates we would need open and when I said, “one please”, she told me that she would shut her side. She then nipped down the steps and jumped on her boat leaving the gate open. I persuaded the lockwheeler from the other crew to pop round and shut it for me, which he did. By now the entertainment was going on in the pound below. Sue making her way towards the lock was faced with the two boats, one passing on her left, the other trying desperately to get into the side to pick his crew up and succeeding only in blocking the canal at some forty-five degree angle. I pointed out to the other crew member that the next lock was only just around the corner and that she might want to tell the steerer that there was no need to pick anyone up. Sue was annoyed but what she couldn’t see was the water shooting up through the rudder stock and soaking the steerer as he revved the engine at high speed as he tried to execute his manoeuvre.

The rain stopped as we approached Cowroast lock, a lone locker was already in the lock so after telling him that he could get back on his boat, I sorted out the lock and then Sue drove in. A family out for a bank holiday stroll asked us the usual sort of questions that gongoozlers do and of course we were very happy to answer them. Once through, we took on water, emptied the toilet cassettes and dumped our rubbish. I’m always happy when we’ve completed our services but today seemed a bit more special since we had finally reached the Tring summit again although it actually felt like we had reached the summit of Everest!

There would be no more locks before we moored and indeed the next series of locks would be downhill, all the way to Cosgrove. The locks south of Cowroast are just too regularly spaced for our liking, we would rather have them grouped together and then separated by some pounds of a decent length.

It took us exactly an hour to cross the summit, a lonely sort of crossing but with one magnificent highlight. I thought that Sue was inside finishing the washing off, which she was but I hadn’t expected her to emerge with the couple of bacon and egg baguettes and a steaming mug of coffee that she had been secretly making. That unexpected treat really hit the spot and I was fortified once more.

The Grand Junction Inn was busy as we passed by, they were holding a Bank Holiday Beer and Music festival and the visitor moorings were full as a result. We soon reached Marsworth top lock, or “Leg O’ Mutton” lock as it is called in the film “The Bargee”. A day boat was about to emerge from the lock, usual story – six people on board, six on the lockside, both gates open and one on the opposite bank wearing a captains hat shouting instructions. It had never been our intention to descend and we quickly made a left turn on to the Wendover arm. It is a narrow canal that twists its way to its present terminus. We turned around with some difficulty at the end, mainly due to the wind but partly due to the boats that have moored in the winding hole. Anyway, did get round and then returned to the bridge where we moored for the night. We had a little walk around but with the exception of the information boards, there’s not much to see around here. We returned to the boat and just relaxed on the back deck while the sun shone. There were a few light showers in the late afternoon but overall it hadn’t turned out to be as bad as we had expected.

Information about the Wendover Arm can be found here and here.

Last night we moored at Winkwell, just outside the Three Horseshoes, an Inn that dates back to 1535 and is apparently (or should that be apparitionally) haunted? We carried out some research and gave it the thumbs up. Sunday morning dawned and we were off again, making the short hop to the next lock where I had what the stars would call a ‘wardrobe malfunction’. Bending down to pick up the centre rope, my jeans split open behind. Thankfully I still adhere to the rule of my mother who always insisted on me wearing clean underpants every day, ‘in case I had an accident’. In any case there was no one around so after filling the lock I still had time to put on another pair of jeans. It only took us two hours to get to Berkhamsted where we were able to moor just above Ravens Lane lock. We took a walk into town where we enjoyed lunch at Carluccio’s and after wandering into most of the shops along the main street, we stopped for coffee at Brasserie Blanc. A short stop at the local Waitrose store preceded a walk along the towpath back to our mooring.

After a short rest, we walked down to the Rising Sun pub where we joined the throng of people gathered around the pub and the lock there. There was a group of cyclists sitting on the lock gate and we were looking forward to a boat arriving and providing us with some entertainment. It took ages but eventually a pair arrived, unfortunately they didn’t provide us with the expected laughs.

When we passed through Berkhamsted a few days earlier we admired a place called the Warehouse which we took to be some sort of shop. Our mooring place was almost opposite said place so before we walked to the Rising Sun we decided to visit the Warehouse. Embarrassingly, it turned out to be a private house, the home of Lindy, who is a local councillor. We apologised and left the grounds but later on Sue continued the conversation with her from the other side of the canal when we had returned to Phoenix III. She was a good sport and amongst other things we discovered that she represents a group called CARP.

There wasn’t much in the way of boating traffic so we settled in for the evening and just relaxed.

Hurray! It’s another bank holiday weekend and as usual, the weather’s going to be unsettled. We awoke to an early morning downpour at around seven o’clock but by the time we had had the statutory cup of tea followed by coffee, the sun was out and it all looked good. We untied and left Hunton Bridge before making the short trip to Kings Langley, where, as we ascended the village lock, we got talking to the crew of a widebeam who had just arrived and waited to take our place in the lock chamber. The boat, and the one behind which arrived a few minutes later, were community boats and today they were carrying members of an addiction group called The Living Room. We crossed over and then moored up above the lock before walking up to the village.

Kings Langley was once home to the Ovaltine factory which from the railway still looks as it did all of those decades ago. From the canalside all that is visible is new housing development and just the top of what would once have been the top of the factory. The big question being, are the people who live there known as Kings Langleyites or simply Ovaltineys?

As Pearson’s guide promises, the main street through the village is lovely, small shops immaculately kept. We wandered along both sides of the road before carrying out some research at The Rose & Crown where we had a light lunch and a couple of drinks. This wasn’t the only research of the day as earlier, on our walk to the village, we had wandered through the local churchyard, yet another episode of ‘Suzy’s Boneyard Tour of Britain’. The heavens opened while we were eating in the Rose & Crown but by the time we were ready to leave, the sun was shining once again.

After reaching our temporary mooring we set off once again and continued our long climb into the Chilterns. The sky darkened but the rain came to nothing as we passed through Apsley, although we did hear thunder rumbling in the distance. We saw a cricket match in progress as we skirted around Hemel Hempstead and shortly after the heavens opened again for a short sharp burst. It soon stopped and we carried on until we reached Winkwell, where after passing through the swing bridge, we tied on the visitor moorings which are only a short walk from the Three Horseshoes which is yet another research facility. It’s a wonder anything ever got delivered by canal in the past with so many distractions for the boaters of old!

We had a relatively late start to the first day of our return journey and didn’t set off until half past ten. Not that we were idle, Sue did the washing and made a great cooked breakfast, one that we ate out on the back deck. I didn’t do too much beyond the daily checks and chores along with a couple of minor bits of maintenance.

The journey back is easily marked since this was originally the Grand Junction canal so the mileposts count the distance to Braunston and the locks decrease in number with number one being Braunston bottom lock. We stopped for water and emptied the bin below Copper Mill lock and then made our way back to Batchworth lock where we stopped for a short while at Tesco for a couple of bits before emptying the toilet at the sanitary station just below the lock. We had met a grey haired couple who seemed a little eccentric as they boated in the opposite direction to us and they warned us of low water levels ahead. It wasn’t until we exited lock 80 that we saw just how low the pound was there. I have no idea what had caused the problem because the level was restored once we had climbed into the next pound. Entry into Common Moor lock (79) was very difficult but Sue did a sterling job and we avoided having to run some water into the pound. Nevertheless it made the lock so deep that it was difficult to secure the boat with the centre rope so we had to take our time and fill it very carefully.

Once back in water of a normal level we progressed well enough and at Iron bridge lock we caught up with a fibreglass cruiser. It was the owners first boat, a project he said, but a narrowboat was what he wanted next. With his two friends for company we worked up through the next three locks. We explained to them the best order in which to open paddles so that the boats would not moved around in the lock too much. His ‘project’ is in the early stages and we didn’t want to damage it by banging it in the lock, Phoenix III at fifty two feet is by no means a large boat but it would make short work of a small ‘glass cruiser if it got out of control when the water rushed in to the chamber.

We parted company after Cassiobury park and wished him luck with his project. At this stage we were leaving the area depicted in both the Pearson and Nicholson guides as having vast expanses of water to the west of the canal. This has been a bit of a disappointment to us because except for the odd glimpse of water, these flooded gravel pits are well hidden by woodland. In fact the only visible landmark is the giant sewage works and believe me you don’t need to see it to know that it is there.

We made our way through some more locks until we moored near bridge 162 at Hunton Bridge. We had stopped here briefly for lunch a couple of days ago and although it is near a main road, it seems like a good place to stay the night. Once again we have had to hammer pins into the ground but that is to be expected since the banks on this canal were lined with concrete many years ago so we don’t have the easy and more modern way of mooring using piling pins.

Yet another sunny morning greeted us as we awoke in Ricksmanworth. We showered and then had breakfast before walking into town again. Sue took a wander around the shops while I sat and read the paper in the local Weatherspoons. We were re-united at around half past twelve when Sue had a coffee and then we returned to the boat taking in the local canal centre along the way.

We made the short hop to the local Tesco store on the other side of the canal and stocked up on a few essential groceries. It was almost half past one when we started out on our travels but the weather was still lovely so it was a very enjoyable experience. We carried on down through the locks until we passed through Black Jack’s lock after which we turned around just above Wide water lock. That was it, our journey had come to an end, Phoenix III was now pointing north ready for her trip home.

We tied up and after a celebratory gin and tonic each we fed the swans and then wandered down to the local pub, the Horse and Barge at South Harefield.

After a quiet night at Apsley, we got up and got ready to start out on the next leg of our journey. After making a quick trip to the local Sainsbury store, we untied and got into the lock which was just a few feet away from our overnight mooring. The landscape was predominantly rural as we dropped down through Kings Langley, Sue was stunned to see a young woman carry her baby and its pushchair over the lock gate, particularly since she was wearing flip-flops! The top gate was almost impossible to open but we got through in the end. There was another lock like this later and with another blocked by BW floating skips, we were starting to get fed up with it all.

As usual we have seen a lot of wildlife, plenty of Moorhens and ducks, Canada geese, domestic geese and swans. We’ve been privileged to see herons and even a few kingfishers. We’ve seen fish jumping, sometimes right out of the water but nothing could have prepared us for this sight near Abbotts Langley.

Nevertheless we persevered and eventually stopped for lunch at Hunton Bridge next to the A41 which runs between Hemel Hempstead and Watford. We indulged ourselves with the chicken kievs that we had bought at Eastwoods and some home made, or should that be boat made chips.

After lunch we got going again and enjoyed some beautiful scenery which eventually took us down through Watford’s Cassiobury park. We saw the first signs of London in the form of a tube train which was travelling overhead, hmmm strange place to have an underground train!

We took on water and emptied the toilet just below Batchworth lock where we saw a miniature canal sytem complete with two locks and a tunnel. Sadly there was no water except below the lock, no doubt the result of a drought and leaky gates, just like the real thing. We thought that we had picked up something on the prop and handily enough there was space on the visitor moorings so we stopped to check. There was nothing on the prop but with a darkening sky, we decided to stay a while. The rain came and although it didn’t last long we decided that this was as good a mooring as any to stay the night on since it was already five o’clock.

At six o’clock we were ready to venture out again so we took a walk to the centre of Rickmansworth. Wandering along the main street we became aware of the faint smell of chips. The smell became stronger as we walked along and soon enough we reached the source where of course we had to sample some of their wares. The enthusiastic proprietor informed us that the chips were cooked in rapeseed oil so we felt that we had somehow chosen a healthy option as we sat on a nearby bench and stuffed our faces. Afterwards we paid a visit to the local M&S food shop before retiring to the local Weatherspoons for a couple of beverages. After that it was back to the boat where we sat and relaxed for the rest of the evening.

Waking up was a bit of a difficulty today but we made it anyway. We trotted on down through the first lock from Cowroast and after the second caught up with another boat. We shared the third lock but we were both held up at the fourth by a coal boat which was replenishing its stock, the fifth lock saw us wait until the local CRT staff re-balanced the water levels in the pounds.

We stopped at Berkhamsted and it was lovely. We had breakfast at Carluccio’s before walking on to Eastwoods butchers where we spent thirty quid or so on meat. A short stop off at the Crystal Palace pub before we toddled off to Waitrose for some essentials and then made our way back to the boat.

We left Berko and started the long slog down through the locks to Hemel Hempstead. We eventually tied up just above lock 67 before walking down to the Italian restaurant next to the marina where we had a pizza. On the way back we called in to the pub, The Paper Mill which was very busy for a Tuesday evening and had a drink before returning to Phoenix III for the night.

We awoke to a rather cloudy Monday morning, not the dark rain laden sort of cloud that has dogged Britain this summer but more the colour of dirty dishwater type of cloud colour. We worked up through Slapton lock and then took on water before setting off again just before nine o’clock. We did the next lock on our own before we caught up with a lone locker with whom we worked up the next two locks before he pulled up so that he could go to work. We generally bumbled on until we reached Marsworth where we dumped our rubbish and emptied the toilet. The White Lion and the tea room are closed now at Marsworth which is rather sad but we were moving on anyway. We shared some of the seven locks which took us up to the Tring summit but otherwise it was more bumbling. We stopped outside the Grand Junction Inn and  had a superb lunch there, not cheap but worth every penny. After that, we crossed the summit and stopped at Cowroast marina where we took on diesel, emerging back on to the cut, we turned left and moored below the lock. For the sake of completeness we walked back up to the pub and checked it out, purely in the interest of scientific research of course.

After a peaceful night on the visitor moorings at Cosgrove we got up and readied ourselves for another day cruising in the sunshine. As we untied and headed towards the village lock, a couple of other boats were starting their day but in the opposite direction. Once through the lock we chugged along, basking in the morning sunshine while passing parallel lines of moored boats on the way to the aqueduct over the river Ouse.

As on the previous day, we were on a very long pound and it was a long time before we met another boat on the move; then, like the proverbial buses, we encountered another four in quick succession. We paused momentarily at Pennyland on the outskirts of Milton Keynes to take a closer look at the houses which boast their own moorings and then it was on towards Fenny Stratford. We caught up with a fully crewed Wyvern hire boat at the entrance to the lock at Fenny Stratford and had a bit of banter with them as we shared a passage through. We stopped for lunch a little while later after passing another Wyvern boat who were having their own lunch. We teased them as we passed, asking if they had some pizza for us. When they passed us, the banter continued and they confessed that they had run out of alcohol.

Later, when we reached the three locks at Soulbury just by the Grand Union pub, we saw a boat waiting for us in the second lock. It soon became apparent that it was the alcohol free Wyvern boat. The mood of the day, indeed the whole weekend prevailed and we not only had a bit of a laugh and a joke with them, we provided the steerer with a cold can of lager and his wife with a glass of chilled wine.

We left them behind and then tramped on down through Leighton Buzzard, suddenly we were at Grove lock. Nothing dramatic about this lock except that it marked the limit of our ill fated cruise in 2009. We quickly worked our way up through and then on and through Church lock. We were back in the countryside again, heading towards the Chiltern hills where in the distance we could see a chalk lion carved into the hillside. Eventually we tied up just below Slapton lock, we made a half hearted attempt to walk to the village but gave up when the busy road didn’t seem to be leading us there.

So we’ve had another long and enjoyable day in the August sunshine and according to the forecast, the weather is set to continue like this for the rest of the week. We’re not pushing hard but cruising under blue skies is so addictive, at this rate we’ll be in London on Wednesday or Thursday.

We ended up at Cosgrove on what has been one of the finest days of the year so far. The day started when we awoke on our mooring just outside Whilton marina. It was quite early but we were in no hurry so it was gone eight o’clock when we ventured outside after a tea, a coffee and a shower each. We were surprised to see that every boat in front of us had gone, including the Cheeseboat. It was almost twenty to nine before we untied and headed south on day two of our journey.

We quickly shrugged off the noisy motorway but the railway stayed with us for a long way as we enjoyed our morning cruise along the long pound between Whilton and Stoke Bruerne. We encountered a couple of hire boats trying to wind near Bugbrooke but unfortunately the first to turn had reversed into the hole, forcing the crew to pole the bow around. We advised them on the correct technique before passing them, leaving the other boat to do the job properly.

The temperature rose steadily as the morning went on and by the time we reached Gayton junction where the canal splits and carves a route down to Northampton and the river Nene, the day had become almost Mediterranean in its nature. By the time we reached Blisworth tunnel, we were baking but as we approached the entrance the cool air reached out of its mouth and engulfed us. We met a boat almost immediately and the crew, who were already soaked, advised us to get our wet gear on. We followed their advice and then made our way through this, the third longest navigable tunnel on the system. We made good time through the tunnel, meeting only two other craft along the way. We emerged forty minutes later into the sunshine and found a mooring quite close to the centre of the village. Stoke Bruerne is an unusual canal village in that the buildings face the water and it also houses a part of the national canal museum.

We ate lunch on the back deck before we ventured along the towpath towards the lock. We passed a small gazebo where a man tried to interest us in joining the Canal and River Trust, we declined having just paid £800 for our annual licence which we think is a big enough contribution. The whole area was really busy with people, hardly surprising given that it was a hot and sunny Saturday in the middle of August. We made our way back to the boat and then headed for the top lock of the Stoke flight. We had the assistance of a volunteer lock keeper which partially offset the the annoyance of the crowds of gongoozlers hanging around and crossing the gates. The second lock wasn’t so busy and by the third, the crowds had gone. In reality it was probably too hot to be doing locks but most were in our favour and we did meet a couple of boats coming up. We had the assistance of another lock keeper for the last two locks before we pulled in and did our chores at half past three.

It was almost four o’clock when we re-started our journey in the sunshine and we just plodded on enjoying the sun bathed countryside. A couple of hours later we reached the village of Cosgrove where we quickly found a place on the visitor moorings. After we had sorted ourselves out we took a walk through the horse tunnel which passes under the canal and made our way to the local pub where we had a couple of drinks. The local vicar sat at the next table enjoying a beer and a smoke with a friend. We then returned to Phoenix III where we sat on the deck and relaxed for a while before turning in for the night.