Too late, but so what?

Wednesday 24^th August; bridge 123 to above Claydon locks

The noises from the farm had stopped by teatime, and with no roads nearby it was a very quiet night.  Even the neighbours were quiet – every spare moment was being spent nibbling.

I took Meg down the towpath for her early morning walk and found a cut-through to the farm track leading to the farm where last night’s noise was coming from.  There are a lot of good blackberries coming along, but they are beginning to get a little in need of a trim – in another week or two these will have reached the ground and be trying to root!

We were ready to leave by about 9.  It’s a nice mooring here, but if you moor when there’s noisy work going on at the farm (farm work starts early) there are better places further along.

We set off in splendid isolation, meeting no boats for the first mile until – at a bridge, naturally – there were the first two, one each side.  And then, as the bridge (126) is at the start of the really wiggly bit where HS2 is laying waste to the land, we met most of the rest that we saw this morning – about 8.  Then all was quiet again for the rest of the journey to Fenny.  But there was plenty to be seen if you are into large plant and machinery!

In the distance, miles away it seemed, there was a person with a buggy and small child walking what must have been a footpath across the far side of the HS2 works.

We caught sight of them again as we neared bridge 127 (having had to wind out way around the bends, so she arrived first) and on the map we saw that there is a circular walk from Wormleighton village crossing the canal at 126 and 127 – and taking in an awful lot of HS2.  What a fabulous walk for a kiddie!  He liked waving at boats too.

Tip, grade, flatten, tip, grade, flatten, tip, grade.....

We haven’t been this way since before lockdown, but it doesn’t look a lot different – just much more extensive and a bit more flattened, and with work on the towpath side which we thought might have been preparation for a supply area with a temporary bridge as I believe is happening elsewhere along the route.

We carried on to Fenny Compton, where the moorings were nearly empty.  We walked straight up to dispose of rubbish at the marina (and I notice they have a recycling bin, coloured green, as well as the red general refuse bins) and to visit the chandlery for some paint.  But now there is no longer any engineering work at the marina, the chandlery is much reduced in size and no longer stocks it.

After lunch we moved on, wondering if we might get to Claydon Top Lock before 3, which is the time for last entry to the flight.  We trickled past the few boats on the visitor moorings.  We find it rather noisy here, as there are factory units behind the hedge.  Even worse today, as someone was cutting the hedge from the other side, with one of the types which munches its way along, leaving torn branches and mangled hedges in its wake. 

The driver stopped as we passed – didn’t want to risk damaging people, but presumably boats are fair game.  I would have objected if Dick Terrapin (fab name!) was my boat.  On we went, through Fenny Compton ‘tunnel’ – although it was opened up in 1868, it is narrow and slow going, especially if you meet a boat as we did.  We trundled along, remembering that there is a stretch of offside moorings to be passed, and didn’t expect to arrive at the top lock in time.  So we moored on the rings before Claydon Top Bridge at about one minute to 3, then strolled down to chat with the lockie.  He was just waiting for the last boat up to arrive so he could go home.  He said Derek will arrive early to let water down as one of the pounds sometimes empties overnight, so he may well open up early.

A bit too late

We got on with a few jobs.  Dave’s first was to check the bilge pump – there was a fair bit of water in the bilge when we arrived and it hadn’t automatically cut in.  It was full of gunk, absolutely filthy inside.

He cleaned it out and tested it in a bucket of water.  All working, so replaced it and got on with some more red oxide painting in the engine hole.

We can hear the railway in the distance, but there are few walkers and the nearest road is down at lock 2, so it was quiet.

8½ miles, 0 locks, Fenny Compton ‘tunnel’.