Bartimaeus

Last week I had tried ringing the Lock at Selby to see when the tides were and if there was news about the tree blocking the River Ouse. I had no reply either time and someone we passed had told us that he had not managed to get a reply or call back. We had plenty time and I could try again. The official word was that there would be an update on Monday afternoon.

On Saturday just as the tannoy at Carlton Towers had begun announcing events and timings for the day, my phone rang. Selby lock keeper was calling me back. It wasn’t easy to find a quiet space, but at least the line was clear. Back on the boat I was prepared for this call by writing the spelling of Bartimaeus in the phonetic alphabet, as I knew there’d be a difficulty spelling it out on the phone and they always ask. Now I didn’t have my notepad in front of me but sure enough he wanted it spelt out “Bravo Alpha Romeo…” My mind went a complete blank on Tango. All was well. The tree was already gone and boats were moving but the tide was not an easy time in the upcoming days, so we put it off until departure time would be after 7am. It was good to be booked in.

So we made a move the next day to get towards Selby though there was no rush, but some rain and even thunderstorms were in the forecast and we wanted to be there in plenty time to fit in other essential preparations. I started off in the morning turning the boat round and we were on our way. During the day all of us took a turn to drive. I was driving at the end of the afternoon when we reached the only lock of the day. A fisherman was on the jetty, half way along, which always adds a bit of awkwardness to the approach. He took in his rod and had a sandwich while I pulled in and waited for Shane and Bryn to get the lock ready. 

As I dropped in the lock some impressive leaks became evident and I tried not to get close enough to get wet. There was a little sprinkling on the deck as I was getting ready to exit the lock.

The next lock pontoon was where we were mooring for the night. There were loads of Himalayan balsam plants. Bryn showed me how explosive the seed pods are. I hadn’t seen them in action before. 

In the misty morning I opened the lock, as it was already set our way and Bryn came to help me do the winding. It was also a bit leaky and it was hard to tell when it might be ready and we went for both pushing one gate together. The River Aire felt a very different character of water, winding in big curves, with a warning to stay on the outside of bends. 

We saw some lambs down a bank and they were bleating. It looked like they might be stuck but were also rather inaccessible. The bank was steep with thistles and brambles and the edge was rocky. Reluctantly we had to decide we would be no help approaching and that since they were large they would be very heavy and hard to hold even if we got there. I told Bryn that we had  seen a sheep rescue display at the Emergency Services Museum and that had involved a harness and reaching the sheep from the land above. We had no harness and we couldn’t get to the land above. Which is where I had rescued a tiny lamb from before. Just then we saw a bright neon yellow helicopter flying over. Surely it wasn’t called out for lamb rescue?

As we travelled on we saw a few more lambs down the slopes but they looked better placed for a viable escape route. Obviously that farmer had no worries about his animals getting down the banks, as there was no fence and lots of lambs ventured down them.

As we rounded another corner we saw a boat that was grounded in the inside of the bend. A rope was dangling in the water as though it had come loose from a mooring. I could see a window open and called out, but it didn’t look inhabited. As we passed the back Bryn saw it was padlocked on the outside. It was stuck hard aground but on a river the water level could change and sweep it uncontrolled downstream. I contacted The Canal and River Trust with the location and offering photos. They probably already know about it, but you never know.

After turning off the Aire we went into the Selby canal which was less wide and with a lot of green water weeds stretching across the whole width at times. We all took a turn at standing at the front, with the boat hook and shifting it sideways off the bow. It is heavier to shift than a bunch of floating leaves would appear to be.  We met a pair of boats and were assured it got better further on.

The bridges were a bit narrower too. One had a rail that looked like a handrail but with no path below. The bridge had evidence of being damaged on both sides so it doesn’t look like there has ever been a footpath below it. I wondered in what type of dire situation you might be using that rail.

We were approaching Selby. We passed what looked like a fire station and the doors were opening. I couldn’t see a fire engine but men were preparing to go out and one was getting in a range rover while the other was opening a door to reveal a trailer with a RIB on it. They were hitching up as we went in to drop Bryn off to work a swing bridge.

Bryn started the controls of the bridge and the flashing lights and alarms for the lowering of the barriers began. At the same time a fire engine with sirens and flashing blue lights came round – the land rover and RIB followed. We wondered if they had been about to go across the bridge and Bryn was beginning the sequence to make it uncrossable. Then we could see the sequence was stopped – Bryn had halted it so it would be passable if the emergency services were going that way. They turned left, away from the bridge and Bryn was able to let some cars over and then recommence the bridge closure.