A slight mishap

Saturday 3^rd September; Chisnell lift bridge to Slat Mill lock

We were up before 7 to a misty autumn morning.  I wandered up to the bridge to see what photos would be possible – perhaps we should have stayed on Somerton Meadows, as tat would have been beautiful.  This was the longest view.

And the shortest

No-one passed us as we had breakfast.  It was so still that the hogweed reflections needed to be photographed

Reflections

We were on our way soon after 8am.  We crept through Aynho, where few people were about.  One hire boat was stirring – when we saw them yesterday they were on a mission to get to Aynho, as they had booked a table at the Great Western, and hadn’t been disappointed.  We haven’t been there for years.  They caught up with us at Aynho Weir lock.  I walked on up the towpath to Nell Bridge lock where, helpfully, a boat was descending.  In several places we have seen swallows and house martins twittering and swooping as they prepare for migration.  There were plenty more but they wouldn't keep still to be photographed.

Gathering swallows

We moved on to King’s Sutton lock, which as you may know seems to have two names.  Today I found out why.  We have often wondered how the cars reach the outbuildings on the offside, and there were people around this morning so I asked.  For many years the only access was along the towpath from Twyford bridge (no 177), half a mile away.  King’s Sutton itself is closer if you are a crow, but there is no bridge across the Cherwell if you are not.  The nearest road is at Adderbury, a mile away to the west along a relatively new farm track.

The lock was originally called Tarver’s lock, and the bridge below it is Tarver’s bridge.  Mr Tarver was the lockie when the canal was opened, and worked there and lived in the cottage for many years.  So why does Nicholson’s call it King’s Sutton, when there is no access to King’s Sutton unless you walk the half-mile along to Twyford bridge and then follow the road for another mile?  When the station (which Wikipedia says is the least-used station in Northamptonshire) was refurbished years ago, the station nameboard somehow found its way to the building on the offside of Tarver’s Lock. 

We carried on to Grant’s lock, and started rising.  All appeared normal until suddenly there was a loud graunch and bang – what could have happened?  The boat hadn’t lurched or bounced around, but when we went to the bow it was obvious - the fender was hanging from its lower chains, top chains dangling free.  We moored beyond the lock landing to have a closer look.

The sacrificial links (and this shackle) had clearly given way when the fender got stuck or jammed against the front gate – but how? There was a smooth metal plate there surely?  By now, the boat following us was emptying the lock so I went to have a closer look.

Just under the metal plate is a horizontal concrete or stone slab, and below that, indicated by the blue arrow, is a small gap which must be where it caught the fender.  I warned the boat behind of course, and later on notified CRT.  Meanwhile Dave had discovered that there were no spare shackles aboard but came up with a reasonably elegant solution – a spring, which was in the toolbox ‘just in case’, and a bootlace!  The string we have on board was nowhere near strong enough to hold a wet fender.

The repair was complete before the boat following us was up the lock and we cruised on towards Banbury past the huge new development.  Why is it you never see solar panels on a new housing estate, or industrial estate either come to that?  ‘Too expensive’ I expect but probably a false economy in the long run. 

Anyway, we found a space near bridge 168 and had lunch before making a trip to Morrison’s.  Then we went through Banbury.  NB Hardy, which has been moored (or on the bottom) at Tooley’s for some years awaiting restoration, now has an explanatory notice affixed to the remains of the cabin. 

 

We hadn’t made our minds up about whether to stop in Banbury.  It would have been far too noisy between the Premier Inn and the fast-food outlets, but the only spaces available by Spiceball Park were opposite the bread factory – we could tell because a tanker-load of Heygates flour was being unloaded.  We thought that it would probably be working all night so didn’t stop.  Just before the factory we were amused by this boat name on the Sovereign Wharf moorings.

Catflap?  And dogs?

 

We carried on up the locks with their heavy gates.  Here is the CRT item of graffiti at Bourton lock I mentioned last week.

The trouble is, half the taps are running (ie leaking) without any help from CRT.  We went up Slat Mill lock and soon after 5 were moored between the lock and the bridge.  At dusk a boat came up the lock.  Shortly afterwards there was a knock on the roof and a voice – could he borrow a mooring pin?  A single-hander, he had picked up his boat only 3 days ago and had just discovered – there being no Armco along this stretch – that he only had one stake.  We have a spare and were happy to oblige.

10½ miles, 8 locks, 1 lift bridge