Bartimaeus

A wet morning meant a late start to the Marple flight. The locks have some very attractive original features in their design, but concentrating on the approach and the bright light meant I failed to drive and get a good picture at the same time and some were impossible to get except from on the boat.

At lock 4  Shane came and told me to pull in as there was an empty pond further up. At first I misunderstood and thought it was a pond we could moor in but in in fact he meant stop now because we couldn’t go all the way up. Shane and another boater, out walking his dog, had taken one extra windlass to see if they could be helpful to others further up the flight. His wife and the dog were waiting. I was a bit concerned as it was a gusty day and hoped the boat wasn’t going to be caught in the wind, but it seemed manageable, and I didn’t need to take up the woman’s offer of taking the rope, which was good since she had the extra complication of a dog and lead. I tied up and chatted to her. She was trying to look at the CRT website, but finding it hard to navigate. Their placid fluffy Alsatian was sitting in a comical human-like pose with his forelegs on the ground and his rump on the bench.

Shane was soon back saying CRT had arrived and were fixing the issue – a stick jammed in a paddle, so it couldn’t close, letting water run through. Shane took over driving and I started doing locks. The bottom gates, when open, blocked the bridges, but were well out of anyone’s way when closed. While I was working the top end, two women on horseback came past and one asked if it would be okay to cross the bridge. I said that should be no problem. The other woman said “unless the horse gets spooked.” I said the noisy bit was this end so hopefully they would be fine. I also knew that we wouldn’t be revving a noisy diesel engine. Was the quieter high pitched whine of the electric engine any problem? The throaty deep roar sounded more  like a predator to me. All was well.

At Lock number 9 I saw something I hadn’t seen before. It looked like a roller and was clearly part of the lock equipment. It was probably a hangover from horse drawn, engineless days. What hard work it all was then, but so was everything and a physical life can be good for the mind. We have been on this flight twice before but I did a fair bit of the driving then and hadn’t seen it from this angle. It looked like there were rope marks worn into the roller and the metal bracket holding the roller. When Shane had worked this lock in the same direction he took an almost identical picture.  I must have forgotten seeing it as I did not have deja vu when I saw it!

 There were further delays ahead. Distracted by a group of gongoozlers arriving and chatting to both of us we didn’t notice that a paddle was still up and were wondering why it was taking so long to fill. In retrospect I think I opened that paddle to prepare the lock but as other people opened and closed the gates while I finished closing the previous lock, I didn’t deal with it, but the gongoozlers don’t have a windlass. I had a hot and bothered trek up and down the next lock opening it up and sending water down to the pond that had now become very shallow. There was light relief between the locks with the brief appearance of a rainbow, a sign of hope that all might recover in time.

A group of locals shared their photos of how low it has been in a pond on the flight yesterday as a result of the trapped stick. I saw a photo of the exposed paddle with the stick wedged and could count the exposed stones at the side wall to compare relative depths and decide how much water might be enough. The family group were encouraging and providing me with moral support as well as the visual aids. The gongoozlers at the previous lock were now able to open the lock but I waved at Shane to discourage him from going too far forward before I had got more water into the pound. Of course now the next pound was drained and Shane seeing I could do with a rest and a cup of tea, took the windlass and gave me the helm. The next pond being very shallow had a spot I kept grounding on but eventually an altered course or a little more water allowed successful passage. I was beginning to be concerned about sunset but we got through the rest smoothly. We met a boat coming the other way and I realised they had a lot of locks still to go while we were nearly home and dry …well not too dry. We picked up water and moored and then went to Nye’s recommended restaurant. He was not wrong, Kambuja has a great varied menu, very interesting,  as were the pictures on the wall. The flavours were delicious and the aubergine melted in the mouth.

It was very restorative. I looked forward to exploring Marple the next day. The facilities were smart and new. A few years ago these were run down with one slow running tap , a skip and no recycling. The whole area has a makeover and new housing beside it. Our waste tank sensor was displaying a flashing red warning and the last pumpout we had tried had not worked. Marple did not have that facility but it did have new toilets so I made use of them to save a bit of space.

The old attraction, the lovely turnovers and under bridge tunnels were still there and we were moored between two such bridges. A disappointment was ahead though, the Marple wool shop was being gutted so my plan to make a purchase there and try a new hat (by the same designer as did the watery tart hat pattern) was foiled. Shane found the post office and picked up a parcel so he was able to spend the afternoon achieving a functioning bilge pump. He received advice and offers of help from a friendly  man, who introduced himself as a pirate, and it seemed he was right that removing the valve helped. 

With his hands mucky, Shane asked for my help to grease the lock. I kept my hands ungreasy by doing the unscrewing of the Yale lock from the back door;  opening the inside; holding it for Shane while he added a dod of grease, and reassembling the lock. It runs smoothly now.  A walk took us last a local heron who seems very unfazed by people passing by.

We had an enforced stay at Marple due to a fallen tree, so we were walking forward to see what progress was being made. Most of the branches were cut off so passage looked possible but they were still working on getting the bole out with two lines a chain and a tractor.

In the evening, the fuel boat that had been stuck behind the fallen tree, arrived at Marple services and pulled up next to the moored boat behind us. We found he provided pump out service but decided not to try asking him to come to us, as it was getting dark. He was gone in the morning.

The next day I stocked up on bakery items. En route I passed the locks and spoke to a volunteer, who told me there were five and a half CRT volunteers today sorting out water levels. He referred to himself as the half volunteer. We are not the only people struggling with those locks. The man with the Alsatian had made it through the day after us, so I don’t feel responsible for calling out five and a half volunteers to fix low water issues.

I rang New Mills marina and established their pump out worked and they had electric mooring so we went there in the morning and had a walk-in the afternoon. Posters up for a missing bird caught my eye, but there was nearby a sign for a missing cat. A feral cat might make a meal of a tame bird, and not realise what an expensive dinner he was having. In a strange way it was nice to see the cat was three legged, making it easy to identify but perhaps not much of a hunter.  I wonder if either has been found. 

We also came across llamas – who cannot be cheered by a camelid? They were haughty and itchy and one was a bit muddy, though not as muddy as we first thought as it’s coat did change from white to brown naturally around the muddy midriff.