Navigating the River Aire was relatively easy.  The flow was barely discernible and the river itself was wide, though with many twists and turns.  Unfortunately the banks are very high so there is not much of a view.  The right angle turn in to the Selby Canal was easy enough.  The only awkwardness was not being entirely sure of the status of the flood lock at the entrance.  It turned out it was fully open, so we didn’t have to take any action at all.

The canal banks are much lower than the river so the view over the surrounding countryside was improved.  However the absence of a current was immediately apparent due to the large number of floating weed islands.  We managed to pick a path through without picking too many of them up on the bow, but occasionally they were unavoidable.  They are very hard to remove without coming to a complete stop, or even reversing.  Bryn was surprised at just how heavy they were to shift.

We reached Selby with a day in hand before our appointment with the lock-keeper.  We hadn’t been quite sure about our rate of progress, but we had been sure that we didn’t want to be ready to enter the lock before 7am.  By delaying a day we could start a little later.  The tide is almost an hour later every day, so the “flood” (when the water starts to rise) wasn’t until after 7.30 on Wednesday.

I took the chance to look at the outside of the lock at low water.  There is a small sand bar at the exit to the lock, but I now have two reasons not to worry about it when we return.  Firstly I can see that it will be well below us when we arrive a few hours after high water.  Talking to the lock keeper I also discovered that there is planned dredging work this week which is intended to clear that bank.

While talking to the lock-keeper I learnt that there were some boats expected from Naburn.  This is the manoeuvre we will be making later this month, so I was pleased to have a chance to see how it is done.  The river is wide enough to allow a pirouette so that the boats come past the lock backwards, using the propellor to push back in to the current.  Slowing down when going forwards usually means running the propellor backwards which results in an almost complete loss of steerage.  I hope to be able to do as well as the wide boat I watched arrive.

Before the boats arrived the lock-keeper had dragged some floating weed islands in to the lock using a hook on a line.  With the lock full of weed he emptied the lock and opened the gates.  By letting some more water down through the top paddles he was able to flush them in to the current in the river and out towards the sea.

Yesterday we managed to be up and breakfasted before the man on the other boat “Lingalonga” came to tell us it was time to go.  Once in the lock, the lock-keeper gave us some advice and told us to decide between ourselves who was going out first.  I said I didn’t mind, but that we didn’t go very fast – I was still asked to lead.

The exit from the lock was easy enough.  As the bow reached the middle of the river, the current turned us briskly in the direction of the incoming tide.  I dropped the throttle for a bit to drift past some large sticks that were close to the propellor, and then put it back on to give steerage for the (swing) railway bridge and the narrower span of the road bridge.  We went through both of these at a lot more than usual canal speeds, but without difficulty.

I’m now familiar enough with cruising on moving water that I was fairly relaxed.  I knew to keep away from the inside of corners to avoid grounding, but also to keep away from the outside of sharp corners where the water can be turbulent, and can force you in to the vegetation.  At the first sharp corner I noticed Ligalonga had perhaps gone a little wider than he would have liked, but didn’t seem to suffer any real harm.

I’d been told to expect the river to become narrower and quieter after the swing bridge at Cawood. That seemed to be right until we were approaching the confluence with the River Wharfe. I think a large tree trunk had got pinned on the dividing line at the split (remember, the rivers are running backwards). As we approached, the rising levels must have released it. I could see a large quantity of collected branches and twigs sliding out across the water directly ahead of us. I tried to slow down as we approached, but soon realised that we were now floating along in a collection of flotsam.

I used a lot of reverse thrust to try to allow the sticks to stay ahead of us.  Doing so brought us very close to the bank though, and I realised we were about to be dragged through the overhanging willow trees.  I used even more power to bring us to a halt, and then hold us there while Lingalonga came past, also trying hard to slow down.  They drifted by very gently and we exchanged some friendly words.

Once they were clear I used the rudder to pull the stern out in to the current again.  As I’d hoped, that got the whole boat moving sideways away from the bank.  When we were far enough over I started driving forward again, we were clear.  I gave a reassuring thumbs up to the concerned looking faces on Lingalonga – they could lead the rest of the way!

The rest of the trip was pleasant and relaxing.  We even managed to drive a few miles on electric with the tide still pushing us upstream almost all the way.