All that separates Blisworth and Stoke Bruerne is a tunnel. Not any old tunnel but the third longest in the country at 3076 yards long, opened in 1805, taking almost half an hour to pass through!
Busy and tight navigating at the show! Good job it wasn't a widebeam!
Arriving at the village, I scooted off to find the Harbourmaster, as instructed by the organisers, and was told we weren't on the list! Ten minutes later, after several phone calls, I was told that due to a cancellation, they could squeeze us in somewhere.
The Cheese Boat operated by Mike and Gwen
I promptly returned to Richard and the boats waiting just outside the village perimeter and suggested we jump into a gap behind the The Cheese Boat. So we did and it was the best thing we did, as later, the organisers told us we were fine to stop there as they had got someone else mixed up with us. So I was happy in the end.
The calm before the storm. Stoke Bruerne looking from the locks towards our mooring around the bend.
Busy busy on the towpath during the show
The weekend arrived, but the weather was terrible, so we didn't bother opening up until after 11am. But then, everyone arrived!
Much interest and admiration for our little butty shop!
Sunday was much quieter, but still enjoyable despite the rain nearly all afternoon.
Trip Boat was kept busy all weekend
Just 'cos there's a show on, doesn't mean I can stop painting!
That evening, Richard backed the boat to the winding hole at the tunnel entrance to turn around ready for an early morning through the tunnel.
Lovely wildlife everywhere
Reversing started well, but as with any boat which doesn't have the privilege of a bow thruster ('girly button' as Richard calls it!) things rapidly went pear shaped! So much time later, we turned the boat where the winding hole was and backed back to our mooring, which took ages as the prop walk kept taking us into the offside trees and bushes!
Richard had another trip to Towcester to get supplies and snapped the entrance to Towcester Racecourse. Very grand!
The tunnel was choked up so badly in the morning, that we couldn't see anything in front of the boat really and it was pitch black behind us. Not nice, especially as Richard hadn't put the splitter on the exhaust (reduces dirt and soot being transferred from the tunnel roof onto the roof of the boat). Consequently, he looked like a coal man when he emerged into the daylight!
Butty 'Kildare' being towed in the traditional way by a team of dedicated enthusiasts.
We stopped at Gayton Junction to replenish the water and empty the toilet cassettes etc and eventually moored at Weedon again.
I had flicked the bar stool into the water trying to push the tiller over too hard on a particularly congested part of the canal, and had to stand up for the last hour of our journey. That'll teach me to not look what I'm doing. I didn't hit the boat I was very close though!
Walking down the towpath during the evening, butty boat Kildare passed by towed by it's horse, led by volunteers, apparently walking to Braunston, where motor boat President is residing. President and Kildare
Just as they passed us, Smudge (John) and Sam arrived on their boat Fairies Wear Boots, so another impromptu visit to a pub was totally necessary.......
No comments:
Post a Comment