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Regular readers will know we have a week each year on a canal boat.  This year we got ambitious and decided to challenge ourselves to complete both the South Pennine Ring and the Cheshire Ring in 3 weeks.  It’s only 156 miles, but the boat moves at an average speed of 3 miles an hour, and as the route crosses the Pennines twice there are a total of 254 locks.  Travelling through grim industrial areas as well as stunning rural landscapes using 8 different canals, and we would be going through the longest, highest and deepest tunnel in the UK.   It was going to be tough but with our friend Gail the three of us were up for the challenge.

Before getting the boat we had an early setback when trying to book passage through Standedge Tunnel – we were told the boat was potentially too big.  However, the marina assured us it had already been through, albeit it sustained a bit of damage.  We did consider a Plan B by backtracking (!!) to Manchester after reaching the summit.

In the week before the trip we had a few days on The Wirral at a campsite where we were greeted by the friendly owners with a plate of freshly baked scones with jam and cream.  We explored the area and had an unscheduled meeting in Liverpool with our friends from Goa, John and Sue who live in France.  We were going to Liverpool where Neil was a student and by chance read on Facebook that they had been to see Jackson Brown in the city the night before.  We only had a couple of hours with them before their flight home but it was great to catch up.  Not much of what Neil remembered from 1972 existed other than the ugly building that he knew in Tithebarne Street.

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On July 1st we met with Gail,  picked up our boat ‘Sun Conure’, and set off at 2ish for our 3 week trip around The Pennine and Cheshire Rings.  We had a couple of easy days to start with which included catching up with our friend Ian who we met whilst couch surfing in Sri Lanka.  Lunch at The Swan with 2 Nicks, what a great name, followed by a visit to National Trust Dunham Massey Hall. 

Now the real hard work was to begin as we headed towards Manchester, passing right by Manchester United’s ground.  There was a slight hiccup in the city centre where we went right into a non- navigable arm before having to reverse out before we got stuck.   We got lucky, that is Neil’s middle name, and finally found ourselves onto the unsigned Rochdale Canal.  Cheryl had done a lot of research so we didn’t linger long in the centre of Manchester, but we made many new ‘friends’ including a cheery and helpful, toothless wino and a comatose druggie in an underground lock shortly after he had finished shooting up and left the syringe on the beam of the lock gate…….so sad, he badly needed help but it would appear he didn’t want any.  Even more sad to think that some unfortunate policeman would probably have to fish him out of the canal one day.  Some graffiti on one wall said, ‘ welcome to our home, please wipe your feet on the way out’…..that said it all.    Finally, we found how to get into New Islington Marina which was safe, almost pleasant but with good showers.

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Next day there were no other boats to share the flight of 18 double locks which took us through the outskirts of Manchester, so Cheryl and Gail had to work hard as all locks were set against us.  They developed a highly efficient system including running ahead to get the next lock ready which meant we caught up with 2 boats who were being assisted by Canal Trust Volunteers.  There was nothing scenic about this part of the Rochdale Canal.  It was grim, grim and even more grim.  The canal was extremely shallow and with lots of hidden debris making it very difficult and stressful for Neil.  The locals looked odd but were friendly enough when talked to and we’ve never seen so many people with the local fashion accessory – a fighting dog.  True to form, many of the owners just looked like their dogs – ugly and threatening.  There was lots of dog shit on the towpath and rubbish in the canal including a dead rat, 9 shopping trolleys, used syringes, a washing machine and a fridge door.  The only thing we didn’t see was a dead body.

Next day the scenery was still grim to begin with but soon got better.  There were no other boats and we were on our own again through every lock.  At one lock we met 3 lovely retired guys who walk every Wednesday round the canal and we chatted with them over a cup of coffee for 45 minutes.  The locals outside the famous chippy, Grandma Pollards, looked in need of some advice on what to wear but we did meet a lovely 80-year young lady who worked in the mills when she was younger.  She had some great stories and we wish we had lots more time to talk to her.  That evening we moored up in a superb location and had a visit from a few members of the Bacup Camera Club who soon jokingly decided that we were having a ‘middle class BBQ’ – must have been something to do with the fancy Gin Cocktails that Cheryl and Gail were drinking!  We now proudly appear on their website listed under David Greenwood…..take a look. 

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Next morning we made it to The Summit, the top of the Rochdale Canal, where we moored and had a lovely canal walk before lunch. The sun was shining and the scenery was beautiful but the village looked very run down.

The journey through Manchester had been incredibly hard work as all the lock paddles were stiff and the gates were heavy.  The scenery was grim and the locks were full of weirdos and smelt like urinals.  At this point we decided that playing safe and backtracking would not be the option for us.  It was back to the original plan and we were going to go for the tunnel.  We also came up with a cunning plan to make the boat lower in the water………find some big people to sit at the front!

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We arrived in Hebden Bridge and moored up at the quieter end of town.  Neil made new friends with a party boat full of young couples out for the day, and then with Rowan the owner of the spectacular wide houseboat moored next to us.  Rowan was a quite stunning lesbian and she invited Neil to have a look around.  When he didn’t return for quite some time Cheryl and Gail started to wonder what was going on.  Next morning we had a walk to Heptonstall which was gorgeous – there was an open studios event on so we had a peek into some of the old buildings and cottages. 

We had agreed to meet with more friends from Goa, Tony & Brenda and Roger & Ann at 2pm at the boat.  The drinking started but Tony was the hero of the day by paddling in the canal to rescue the bottle of pink fizz which slid off the boat and into the canal – what a star!

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That evening we had a pub crawl around HB which is lovely town.  The girls had fun chatting up the cocktail barman at Callum’s Bar, the chippy ran out of food at 6.30pm so that really pissed on our chips and so we went to one of the pubs which turned out to be an excellent choice.  Really good food with excellent 2 litres jugs of gin, elder flower and berries. We ended the evening in The Trades Club to listen to the strange band before returning to the boat.  T&B stayed overnight, we played silly games of charades and Tony peaked too early and fell asleep sitting up.

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Next day we got lucky once again when we were chatting to the people on a boat alongside us in a lock in Sowerby Bridge.  We didn’t know we needed a wooden hand spike to operate the locks on the next stretch of canal but fortunately we were passing a marina so we were able to buy one.  That afternoon we had to call our marina as a water pump failed.  With his phone on speaker and his head deep in a cupboard Neil managed to switch to the spare.   

We left the Rochdale Canal to join The Calder and Hebble Navigation and Neil was very smug as he nailed the very sharp right turn into the lock in one go.  He was not so smug when he realised how small the locks were and he had to go in diagonally.  It was difficult to exit but we soon found a system involving pulling the boat across to the open gate using the rope – just more hard work and more time consuming.   For a number of reasons, that evening we were finding it hard to find moorings but then we stumbled upon an old mill working on the opposite site of the canal to the tow path which had an excellent tree covered BBQ area.   After our food and fizzy wine Cheryl went off to bed very exhausted while Neil and Gail had a camp fire to celebrate another successful day. 

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We got delayed early next morning by a pontoon blocking our path while repairing a bridge damaged by the horrific floods that affected the area.  The workmen were more interested on their tea break than shifting it so we were delayed almost an hour.  That evening we moored in Aspley Basin in Huddersfield and took the opportunity to top up with gas, diesel and get a pump out for the toilets.  We’ve never done a pump out before so it was the blind leading the blind – one mistake and we could all be wearing a new suit of shit!  That evening we had a great time with Donna and Rob, friends from Wakefield, in the pub adjacent to the basin.

Next morning we set off and negotiated the first lock only to find that the following pound was very low.  The usual remedy is to release more water from the next lock but there was a sign saying it couldn’t be accessed from the towpath.  Cheryl set off to investigate and found the only way in was to climb a 6ft anti vandal fence.  Aided by an old pallet and 2 traffic cones she managed to get in without impaling herself on the spikes but still couldn’t get enough water into the pound, and there was no way to get back over that fence. 

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Meanwhile Neil contacted the Canal Trust and Colin came to the rescue.  He released Cheryl from the fenced in lock but not before giving her a severe ticking off for doing such a risky thing.  Cheryl was secretly very proud of herself for getting over the fence as she normally doesn’t do reckless things but on reflection it was an extremely dangerous thing to do. She also got a ticking off from Neil as well, despite her protests of ‘but it’s what you would have done!’

Colin did then use Cheryl to help let in more water from the lock further up, while he went even higher to get more water into the system.  We finally got moving 2hrs later and after 22 locks and several miles we moored in Slaithwaite. 

It was a short day before we arrived at the famous Standedge Tunnel just after 2pm.  Why is it famous?  Well, it’s the longest, highest and deepest canal tunnel in the UK, it’s around 3 miles long, it took 17 years to hack out mostly by hand and cost the lives of at least 50 men plus it takes approximately 2hrs to travel through with an engine!   As there was no towpath in those days they would have had to legit through taking around 4hrs.

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We filled up with water and piled as much heavy stuff (Neil’s beers) into the front cabin.  The boat was measured …….and we passed – yay!  Next morning aided by our chaperone, Rick, Cheryl steered the first section and managed to clout the boat a couple of times but no major damage (that’s what she says!).  Neil took over after 2/3rds distance (and had a wider section to navigate according to Cheryl!) and we exited the tunnel after 1.75hrs……not bad.  We also gave a ride to Alastair a canal enthusiast we met the day before who loves riding through. He was also useful ballast.

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The next stage we were slowed by 2 different boats – the first one stopped to empty the toilet and have showers so we managed to pass – yay!  We also caught up with the second boat at Stalybridge when we both stopped to shop at Tesco.  Neil hurtled around the store like a Tasmanian Devil determined to shop and leave before them – with the aid of a call to Cheryl to prepare the boat to leave he just made it – more yay!   Shortly after leaving we took a very sharp turn left onto the Macclesfield Canal and decided to go through the Marple Flight before mooring.  After a very long day we finally made it to the top at 7.30pm and after 30 locks – phew!  Well done Cheryl and Gail, you worked your socks off that day!

Next morning we set off for more National Trust at Lyme Park.  It was a very pleasant afternoon where one of the room guides, who can only be described as gran, beckoned us to sit down with her while she told her tales in the library.  We also met members of the Jane Austen society and took surreal photos of them taking selfies!  Lyme Park was used as Pemberley in Pride and Prejudice with that infamous scene of the dripping Mr. Darcy emerging from the lake causing both Cheryl and Gail to almost swoon at the memory of Colin Firth in his sexiest scene ever.

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We were making good time and our 3 week tour was going to plan.  Then there was an almighty crunch and clatter so Neil hit the stop button.  He tried it in forward, crunch crunch, and then reverse, crunch crunch.  A helpful cyclist managed to pull us towards the bank and as it was so shallow Neil tied us to a tree using the gang plank to get to the path.  Neil tried to clear the propeller but he immediately concluded that this time he couldn’t shift whatever had brought us to a halt.  We called for rescue and had a few drinks with lunch while we waited.  Our latest hero, Trevor, arrived and spent over an hour cutting a huge fishing umbrella which had wrapped itself around the prop. 

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Next day we had a leisurely day before mooring in Congleton to meet with more fiends from Goa, Derek and Jane, who live in nearby Leek.  Good food and good company made it an excellent end to the day. 

Next morning we moved on for more National Trust – a superb 45 minute walk to the top of Mow Cop followed by lunch then a short walk in the other direction to Little Moreton Hall which must be the most quaint, crooked but well persevered building of Tudor times. 

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Our last couple of days were full on in terms of cruising.  We had travelled this stretch of canal before and it wasn’t very scenic so we just ploughed on to get back to the marina for Friday evening.

During 3 weeks of quite heavy activity you might expect to get one or two injuries and our party was no exception.  Firstly, Gail was struggling with one of the heavy lock paddles and called to Neil from the deck to help.  He did manage to get the paddle to rise but the windlass slipped causing it to whizz round at an alarming speed clouting Neil’s wrist.  Normally the safety ratchet stops this but it had been lifted off by Gail originally to help work it loose.  It’s not unusual for people to break wrists when this happens but fortunately after lots of expletives and a bag of frozen peas it was apparent that it was just going to hurt for a few days (lucky is his middle name).  Cheryl also had a mishap caused by being polite to a guy standing on a bridge watching her.  She missed her footing and fell flat one side badly bruising her hip, thumb and forearm.  The thumb swelled up in seconds giving us all a shock but, again, the frozen peas came to the rescue….phew!

What a fabulous 3 weeks – great scenery, physically and mentally tiring but rewarding, fantastic time seeing friends, weather 8/10, a few traumas, 4 rescuers, first Tony, second Colin (take a look at the picture – Gail was smitten) then the peas and finally clever Trevor and, of course, lots and lots of laughs.

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Thanks to all who helped us with planning and logistics, especially the Morton brothers for sharing their experiences and equipment.