Bartimaeus

On our second day in Sheffield we came across a museum that looked interesting, The Museum of Emergency Services. Also it was near our mooring so I wanted to go, but on searching we found that it was not open until Wednesday. I wanted to go but also had thought going back down the locks with Heather would work and she was not available after Wednesday. I felt a bit pulled in two directions. I rang up Dave the lock keeper on Tuesday afternoon to see whether Wednesday or Thursday worked for them. There was no answer, but I left a message and carried on enjoying the Botanical Gardens.

He rang back on Wednesday and told me that they were working on repairing a sluice that day and there were no other boats and it would suit them if we doubled up with Paul, who was booked in on Thursday, if it was all the same to us. He also said there would be another lock keeper on Thursday so that meant there was plenty help. I contacted Heather and she suggested meeting at the emergency services museum – perfect!

It was a very interesting run through the history and development of all emergency rescue services – fire and ambulance, coastguard, air ambulance with lots of vehicles and rescue equipment to see. I tried a little rock wall climbing and went inside an old ambulance and this little teddy reminded me that I had knitted a nurse that looked like my niece while she was working in ICU as a nurse in London in 2020, complete with mask. 

Patient care during war time got a lot of coverage in the museum and bombings resulted in unusual emergency procedures, so air raid shelters were shown. Some people had the job of being on the look out for fires during an air raid from the top of a building. There was protective plating but no use if the building you were on was hit. If I peered up I could just see through the slits.

The building had been a fire station and so the collection of fire vehicles was extensive, including one burnt one – not during active service but when a museum store went on fire. A few of the old fire engines had starter handles that looked much like a windlass.

We all enjoyed the museum and went back to the boat for lunch. Heather wasn’t getting to come down the locks but she did get a chance to wield a windlass as we went for water and had to operate the swing bridge. We wanted to get the boat watered and turned ready for our departure in the morning. We had looked at it and not been able to see how it worked, but then at our meal at Heather’s, Caroline showed us a video of someone working it. The mechanism was in the middle of the bridge and unusually you stand on it while winding. Heather and I went together so I could show her where it was, but I soon needed her muscles to help complete the job. It was heavy going and two people was an advantage.  To wind it back into place Heather and I turned it together.

We got water then Shane was tempted to try the swing bridge experience, leaving Heather and I in charge of turning Bartimaeus round. I was glad of a spotter. 

The next day we worked through the locks with the help of three lockies, who met us at different points on the flight, Dave, Nigel and Pete, so all the locks were ready with gates open ahead of us and then they were locking the gates up behind as nobody else was booked in. The loan boater buddied with us was energetic and used to doing all the work so leapt out to close gates when he was in first and sometimes beat the locking crew tidying up behind.

At one lock I noticed a tree trunk across the gates which meant we would not be able to open them as it was almost the full width of the lock. Pete and Nigel were still finishing the previous lock. I alerted Shane and thought a boat hook might be able to turn it down to the side, if the boats moved back a little, as these locks were not a tight fit widthwise. Then I thought I would still need to tell the lockies. It has probably floated in when the lock gates were sitting wide open ready for us. Shane first pushed it sideways then, as Paul moved his boat back and opened his gate, Shane moved it out of the lock completely and it was no longer an obstacle once out in the open water.

Paul was keen to have a locking buddy but was also pressing on and accepting that we might stop to eat. He seemed a powerhouse that didn’t rest. We went a few more locks after the Tinsley flight then stopped at Swinton, where we got off to go shopping. We were getting basic groceries and had already treated ourselves to a pack of teacakes, when we noticed a local bakery product, fruited bunkies, which we had never heard of before so we couldn’t resist popping them in the basket too.

The next day we moved on and moored in Sprotbrough. We were right opposite The Boat Inn which had looked tempting in the other direction so this time we fitted it in for our dinner in the evening. I recognised the menu as familiar and indeed it belongs to a chain of Vintage Inns and we had enjoyed a meal at The Trent Lock previously. Although the menu is wide and varied we were both tempted by the same options we had picked before, tried and tested.

The next day Shane had worked out a walk that went over the impressive viaduct. There were some insects in the woods that were rather too tempted by my blood and bit with alacrity. They didn’t even look like mosquitoes. We soon got out of the woods and on to our main attraction. The view of the viaduct is very good as you pass under it so it is no surprise it gives you a good view around when you get up there.

Wandering back we briefly looked through a hide at some water birds. We had assumed the distant ducks were mallards, but Merlin confirmed we were hearing gadwalls. Once we had looked them up I realised there were other ducks I had seen that that assumed were crossbreeds as they looked almost but not quite like a mallard duck, but I think they could have been female gadwalls and I just didn’t know they existed.

We had built up an appetite with the climbing walk and went to the Boat Inn again at lunchtime, sitting outside in their large courtyard, weathering a light shower and  sharing bar snacks was a pleasant way to end the walk. As we crossed the lock on our way back, a boat was going through. Then the gates wouldn’t open fully and being a wide boat it couldn’t squeeze through. We resisted the desire to go up and try to help. It was just a push button control panel so extra hands would not make light work. We saw them emerge a while later.

The next morning we were going to that lock so I was hoping it would work for me. As Shane drove in we saw the same boat returning. They joined us in the lock. I am sure they were happy it worked this time and that they didn’t have to operate it. They planned to wait for us at the next lock but it was operated by a lock keeper and they were much faster than us so the lock keeper didn’t wait, as it turned out we were caught up by another boat that had been delayed by the stuck lock gate  the day before. The lock keeper asked us both if we were the boat that had been trapped in it as she knew someone had been called out to reset the system.  Neither boat had but we both knew about it.

We moored at Doncaster, filling up with water. I wanted to revisit the Minster too as I had fancied the home made lemon curd when I had visited before, but plumped for chutney that time. Then on returning, Shane had said he liked lemon curd too and would have liked it.

It was now a Sunday with a service on and I wasn’t sure they would have the shop items for sale. We returned as the service ended but people were still milling around. So done asked if we had come for the baptism and I had to say no, the lemon curd. The woman was not disappointed by my less than spiritual purpose and indeed said she couldn’t confirm if they had any left as the lemon curd always went fast when a batch appeared. I was in luck as there was one jar left and other ladies inside helped me find the person who could do the till and in a lemony mood I got some marmalade as well. I fancied grapefruit marmalade but I knew Shane wouldn’t be tempted by that at all.