Bartimaeus

We had moved further along to a place that may be suitable to leave the boat when we go away. It was a quieter spot for boats even though it had rings. We were making up our minds about whether to go through the next lock. Warnings of shallow water made us reconsider. With the start of the summer holidays in England, the canal-side was getting busier with people taking children out cycling, or learning to cycle, as well as the usual passing dog walkers and commuters. The holidays were upping the boat traffic too. The supermarket spot we had left that occasionally had a short term stop for two or three boats and overnight for two, now had six and Bartimaeus wasn't even one of them. 

It wasn't just a supermarket mooring, there was a pub called The Weavers (nice to see the working folk having things named after them) with a sign suggesting people moor opposite and go over the bridge to visit the pub. The bridge, Caldwall Hall Bridge, is modern, but looks like it is a wider bridge replacing an earlier bridge. The next bridge looks original and is called Caldwall Mill Bridge. There is heavy scoring on the side of it showing it was used a lot when horses pulled the boats. 

There is a tiny wharf by that bridge, but at one time there were many mills and mill wharves. We were between two low arches that had once been loading and unloading spaces off the main canal at the mills.

The shopping area beyond was called Weavers Wharf after the dominant industry of the area. It was quite appalling reading the descriptions of young children working in the mills and even with several family members working over 12 hours a day, six days a week (maybe 5 till 9 rather than 9 till 5), they were running out of food before pay day.

We needed water so we turned around and moved to the water point. A furniture outlet opposite had a camera and dougal in front of it. I wondered what special promotion or event was happening. The little wharf beside the water had space for half a dozen boats. There didn't seem to be a name for it anywhere but there was some nod to former times with a whitewashed plough and a pig placed there. Sounded like a pub name itself.

We moved on from the water to a spot further on with much more shade and greenery around. In stead of driving the boat towards Kinver, we went by tandem to there, the route being mainly alongside the canal. I thought the swan statue was about local wildlife (and indeed there was a kingfisher statue later) but this seemed to describing an extraordinary local legend. Other explanations are possible.

Having noticed an issue with the zip on my handbag before leaving I was concerned it might stop being closable so spent longer in a shop looking at handbags than is enjoyable (that's really any time at all), but didn't buy any. We did get a nice lunch and deli comestibles though and cycled back past real pigs, horses and sheep in the shade. When we reached the Wolverley lock, we saw a sign for ice cream. Shane went to park the tandem and I crossed the lock to look at large floral wreaths that were there, along with the order of service for the celebration of the life of a woman in her thirties, a mother of two young children. These were large funeral  floral tributes, not a couple of bunches of flowers, that are often left where someone died. There seemed a different story as to why choose here to leave the flowers. It was sad seeing tributes to one so young including the descriptions by the children. 

Ice cream was beckoning so wondering about a stranger was set aside. I was holding open a gate to let the tandem through to the shop, when man we had seen cycling early in the day was coming, so I went to hold it open for him too. In stead of coming through he stopped. He had a tandem himself and recently changed to an electric one and was keen for a chat about Orbit tandems. 

We had excellent ice creams and mango sorbets. Refreshed we continued and stopped off for shopping where I met the same man again leaving. I went round the shop and when I came out he was still chatting to Shane. Outside on the canal and towpath near the supermarket I had seen Rich, who writes on facebook about life with his family on narrow boat Bluebell. I had waved on the way in and Shane wondered if I wanted to speak to him. When we came out he wasn't there, though his boats were. I knew that since he had a public face on social media, hundreds of people would know him and he doesn't know most of them. I'm nobody to him while he's somebody whose life I had been reading about, but he is somebody who doesn't big himself up at all. A few minutes later we met him cycling along the towpath so we did stop for a chat. He had his teenage son with him. I expressed that "you don't know me, but I know you" thought saying this must happen often for him and he said I was the third person today to recognise him. He asked our names before we parted company. I didn't remember till after that some of his recent posts had mentioned that his mum had passed away and the impending funeral. Probably the last thing he needs is meaningless chat with strangers or maybe it's helpful to talk about the ordinary, rather than the emotional. Even when life is less ordinary, you still need to shop, cook, and celebrate your son's birthday.

Later that day they passed, his wife at the helm of their larger boat and the son steering the butty, Stowaway, which hasn't an engine and is towed behind but it does have a rudder and beautiful old fashioned tiller. We were impressed how slickly he stopped and secured the butty on his own at the lock bollards. 

The next day we stayed put but saw Rich, his wife and daughter cycling past us to go shopping. They came back past with tubes of wrapping paper so that was obviously a birthday shopping trip without the son. 

While I was sitting knitting in the bow, another boat came past. It had the same name as the large boat, the rudder of which is in the museum, Hannah. This one's butty was not being steered though. They both fitted in the lock together.

Some lads gathered by the lock later on and were magnet fishing. I went to ask if they had got anything interesting. They had caught a money box, but no money. They were planning to sell the metal for scrap. The oldest (well tallest) was weilding the rope and magnet and something kept catching then dropping off and they were exited to see what it was. It turned out to be a shopping trolley but fairly rusted and even though I brought along rope and a boathook they never manage to pull it up enough to get a better hold on it. Bits of rusty mesh were sticking to the magnet but breaking off the whole thing. It seemed it wasn't blocking the lock as several boats had passed through without incident. It was no match for several tonnes of boat.

The lock itself was an entertainment for them it has four ways to cross, either lock gate or a small metal bridge and a larger stone and brick bridge. The stone bridge had an exceptionally worn top step. The others were later replacement steps.

A man passing on a bike stopped last night when we were outside eating, to ask us if we knew this was called Hell's Tunnel. He seemed to be suggesting it was not a safe place to moor. Shane said we had found people very friendly here. He moved on to asking if we believed in UFOs as one had been spotted here 15 years ago and did we believe in ghosts as he had one in his house. He didn't used to believe he said but he had the zeal of the converted. That was no ordinary encounter....

We have moved on to less shady spot. It was to get more sun on the panels, not because of dire warning in Hell's Tunnel. We are now beside the viaduct. It is common enough to name the engineer who designed the structures, but here they had a photograph of the navvies and of the people involved in restoration. I don't think the navvies had the benefit of abseiling equipment and hard hats.