Showing posts with label Heckle and Jeckle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heckle and Jeckle. Show all posts

Wednesday, 22 July 2009

Dave











I was talking about the impressive Gauxholme railway viaduct. This first photo will give you some idea - very imposing above you on the sky-line as you climb the locks towards it, and perhaps even more so as you drop down under it on the way back.
Day 4 (Tuesday) and we have to submit to the knowledgeable and safe shepherding of "Dave" from British Waterways. He turns out to be a really nice bloke who also owns a westie, so we can charm him up. In fact he goes home from work Tuesday telling his wife all about this boat with three westies on, and she insists he get a photo on the Wednesday as he brings us back over, so we have to be lined up on the back deck to pose for a pic.
Dave sees us through the dodgy locks (leaking gates, bellying, subsiding chamber walls, shallow pounds), leaving us to chug gently along the mile long summit pound (my 2nd photo is of Heckle and Jeckle's boat "Warwick" following us along - gives you a good idea of the summit scenery, the moors and the width of the canal).
We also see, coming up towards us, a genuine old horse-drawn barge being run by the Horsebarge Society. It's moored below a lock as we come out , so once we've gone the guys have to pole it in. They tell us that if the locks are set the horse is unhitched while the barge is still under way, and the momentum of the barge would glide it into the lock.
In the early days of the trip the Silverwoods were keen to try out the fishing, and it became a bit of a competition between Mr and Mrs S and Em-J. Unfortunately, Em-J caught one first (the fine stripey beastie you can see in the pic), which made Mrs S even more determined. As dark fell, the mozzies started to buzz around her, but she was fierce determined and blind to all entreaties to give up, and to the dangers of being bitten to death.
Result was she was eaten alive by the little varmints, and spent several days with her face bloated and swollen with joined up bites, like some kind of horror film elephant-man. The photographer left her alone so there are no pics, and by the end of the hols she was restored to her former beauty. Next year, says Mum, we are remembering the insect repellant, and indeed a "Boating 2010" list has already been started!
Mind you, on fishing, it nearly came to a sorry end as a hobby but more of Mum and maggots in the fridge tomorrow!
My final pic today was at a lock called Benthouse after we had summitted, bidden farewell to Heckle and Jeckle, shopped in Little borough, and climbed back up a few locks to overnight just short of the (Western) summit. A superb idyllic location in the sun, with a small off-canal berth (some kind of loading quay for stone blocks) with hard standing and a nice picnic area for an al-fresco pasta supper (and more fishing - this was pre-"maggots-in-da-fridge")
Enough for today
Deefski
(the maggots were definitely NOT my fault)

Monday, 20 July 2009

Heckle and Jeckle

I've mentionned that this summit canal and locks are closely controlled by the British waterways guys due to the shortage of water at the summit. Etiquette and the Rules of the Road (plus common sense) dictate that to conserve water you move two boats with each lock-full if at all possible and this tends to mean that you pair up with another boat and go up or down together.

As two boats were booked out of Sowerby Bridge on the same day, and both due to cross the summit on the same day, this made it inevitable that we were "stuck with" the other boat for at least 3 and a half days. Needless to say you want these to be "nice" people or it can ruin a holiday. We were lucky then to be paired up with a couple from Leeds with whom we could get on (ish).

Ish? She was an absolute diamond, ex vet, now accountant, rescue dog owner and a demon around the lock-wrangling. He was just a tad less "easy" - a bit of an un-reconstructed old boy with a high, nasal Leeds voice that had you reminded of George Formby and who our lot were soon making sly comments about Ukulele players.

Totally useless domestically, apparently (we blame the parents) and given to expressions like "t'Dragon" (every time he was talking about "t'wife", and while totally glued to the back deck and his tiller, very generous with his advice on what she should do differently, an all round "expert" on everything. We were all waiting for a proper "domestic" to break out, but it never did.

These two were secretly named "Heckle and Jeckle" and the name stuck.

Deefer