Bartimaeus

We were only a short distance from the flint mills at Cheddleton, and I had seen that the mills were open and running on Wednesdays and Saturdays.  It was about a mile to the mills, but by the time we set off it was going to be lunchtime before we arrived.  I had just seen mooring rings when I noticed a boat coming in the other direction.  I moved over to the right to let them pass, but they moved over to moor instead of passing us.  I correctly guessed this indicated a lack of further moorings so we moored too, despite tree cover.

We could see the mill wheels turning, but decided to have some lunch before exploring. The buildings on the site were open to explore with a number of volunteers happy to chat and explain.

It was impressive to see both wheels running.  My first thought was that it must be expensive to use all that energy, but of course the water wheels are turned by the river.  The crushing pans were very similar to the ones we had seen at Etruria, only the power source was different.

The mechanisms were turning, but the pans were empty, so the buildings were fairly quiet.  The occasional  clunking or clicking made it sound like somebody was walking around nearby, not a massive machine running.

The cogs connecting the water wheel to the pan were exposed in the level below.  The two wheels for the south mill have 196 and 197 teeth.  The difference reduces wear by ensuring that every tooth on each wheel meets every tooth on the other.  The north mill had different size wheels too, but not so carefully matched. 

After a thorough explore we returned to the tea room.  Clare just had a drink, but I couldn't resist the home made scone with jam and cream with my coffee.  There was only one table inside, but the couple sitting there invited us to join them.  They had once owned a boat - a wooden one he had built in the garden.  He showed us some pictures, and very impressive it looked too.

They knew the area well and told us of various highlights.  When we'd finished eating and drinking, she insisted on taking us outside so that she could point out a navigation hazard.  A part of the bank had fallen in to the canal leaving some huge stones underwater.  We would probably have got by without incident, but I could well understand why the owners of a wooden boat would urge caution.

There was still some daylight left, so we set off through the pair of locks just beyond the mill and continued until we found a mooring with a little more open sky near to Cheddleton Station.  Unfortunately, there are no passenger services on the Churnet Valley Railway until next month.

The weather has been a mixture of sunny spells and short showers. The forecast was for more of the same on Thursday, but likely to be drier earlier on.  We enjoyed intermittent sunshine in the morning. though the air was cold when the sun went behind one of the dark clouds.  The canal joins the River Churnet for a while.  The indicator board was clearly in green, but we noted the lack of amber - how quickly do things change on this river?

Just before the end of the river section at Consall there is a water point.  We filled up very quickly here - the top water flow was exceptionally strong.  I drove us past the weir and found an excellent mooring immediately beyond just across the bridge from one the pubs that had been recommended (other pubs are recommended).

We had lunch on board before going for a stroll down the canal.  We heard voices and saw a work party on the railway.  We watched a gang of volunteers replacing sleepers - one of them invited us to join them: "volunteers always needed".

We got back to the boat just before the rain started.  At dinner time it was dry again so we went to see what the pub had to offer.  Thursdays are pie night, so we both had our choice of pie.

While we were eating, a woman asked us if that was our boat, and said she wanted to ask us about it.  She had bought a boat and wanted to repaint it and liked the colour of ours, so she wanted to know exactly what colour is Bartimaeus.  I told her I could find the tin and let her know.  She asked us to tell the barman as she was leaving immediately for a weekend away.  After I'd eaten I nipped back to the boat and we were able to leave a note with the barman (Steel Blue - RAL 5011).

The heavy rain that started after we got back to the boat continued during the night but cleared up before we got up.  We set off in bright sunshine, making it hard to see the narrow bridges.  The steep sides of the valley soon meant we were in shade, but now the air felt cold.  The station at Consall overhangs the canal leaving very little room for manoeuvre. 

The canal and railway run very close together for some distance, it must be quite a sight to have a steam train come by.  Last night's rain meant that there was a lot of water running down an overflow under the railway.  There was no danger of being pulled in to it, but there was no obvious sign of  protection either.

We arrived at the only lock of the day just as another boat was coming out - perfect timing and a much easier place to meet them than the narrow sections we had just traversed.  At the exit to the lock is a gauge for the Froghall Tunnel - it was clear that we were just too high to fit.

The Froghall Tunnel is less than half a mile from the limit of navigation for all craft.  The practical limit for boats longer than 65 feet is before this lock as there is nowhere to turn round beyond here.

Just before we reached the Froghall Tunnel we passed the winding hole and a stretch of mooring rings.  I pressed on to the tunnel entrance, partly to confirm the gauge measurement, but also to record our presence at this Silver Propeller location.  The tunnel is lower in the middle than at either portal.

We reversed back to the mooring rings and took shelter from the rain that had just started as we began reversing.  It cleared quite soon allowing us to enjoy the short walk to Hetty's Tea Room at the end of the canal - another recommendation.

After lunch we explored the lime kilns which were the reason the canal was extended to Froghall.