Slow travel

26/4/2019 The Trent and Mersey canal traverses WNW from the midlands, through salt extraction territory- with the salt being transported by canal before road and rail eclipsed canal transport. The consequences of the thousands of years of extraction can be seen in the landscape. Open cut extraction has formed pools, even lakes, called 'flashes', while the underground mining causes subsidence. Part of the canal had to be relocated in the 50s when it collapsed, banks have been built up, and signs 'low bridges' are frequent. The bridges have sunk, so the boater ducks low, and hopefully removes the aerials and chimneys before the bridge knocks them flying. When the adjacent river flooded in the 90s when we were boating on the T and M, some craft could not fit under the bridges as the river was flooding the canal. On a humble hire boat at the time, we scraped through. I recall the excitement of ferry gliding along the canal, to counter the current of flooding across the

23/4/2019 Life afloat has an erratic charm. Around the next bend in the canal may be the most glorious flowering cherry,  or a ramshackle boat whose journey becomes inextricably linked to yours, at least for a few hours. Or fate throws into your path a fleet of historic wooden boats, many steam powered, leaving your captain in ecstasy.  This is all today's story, the dish accompanied by an offer to syndicate Santiago,  lock assistance from Will (a fine bargee), dumpling making. The spice of life one could say. Back to the ramshackle note. The boat was a plastic/fibre glass white-ish motor cruiser, with grandad in charge, half his brood of grandchildren aboard, the eldest around 12. Grandad himself no more than 40. Festooned with large fenders to protect itself from 20 tonne steel canal boats, or stone locks, the boat became a cork stuck in a bottle as the water exitted a lock. Cries, children distressed, ropes pulled, Cap'n JJ assist s, lock re filled, boat unjammed, fenders

23/4/2019 For the past 6 months nb Santiago has been abandoned on her mooring, large carp  lazing, a moorhen nesting on her stern- we moved the nest and its one speckled egg to an adjacent boat, and hope mum returns. The carp are untouchable as they're in the marina waters, not the canal. The small marina has woods to one boundary, now carpeted with bluebells. JJ readied the boat for the journey,  reminded by his note from last October that one of the 2 gas cylinders was empty,  so our last task at the marina was to purchase a replacement, all 13 kg.  A cylinder lasts about 3 months. A short  afternoon cruise south to the junction of the Macclesfield with the Trent and Mersey,  bright sunshine, unseasonally warm.  The latter canal traverses England in an arc from NW to NE, and we will follow it NW where it used to join the Mersey, SE of Liverpool. Tomorrow, Easter Sunday, cousins from nearby Knutsford will join us for the day.