The Tappin' o' the Feets

Day 6 (Full day 5) and we're heading back up stream towards Sowerby Bridge, alternating canal with River Calder. The river level is low, so the flood locks upstream of each canal stretch are all open and you can glide straight from canal to river unhindered (with a glance over your shoulder at the big but benign and peaceful (at low-river!) weirs (see pic) with their rather worryingly strong and serious looking string of massive boat-catching floats. This pic also has the motorway in the background (M62 I think).

The rain has stopped now and there's a kingfisher to greet Dad and we dogs when we first break surface for a pee. Despite many being spotted from the boat(s) through the years, Mum has never actually been in the right place and right time to see one, so there is now a long-standing joke in the family that she thinks they are mythical creatures.

The Terry Pratchell "Feegles" stuff is now so ingrained in this holiday's culture that at one point J-M (10) shouts down to Dad in the lock chamber to throw up a rope. Dad has not done so because we are coming up as a pair of boats in this one and Dad thinks we are so well wedged we barely need ropes. But when he looks back up at Jorja she is doing the full works 'tapping o' the feets, pursing o' the lips and folding o' the arms'. When he's finished laughing (along with everyone else), he gives in, quailing "Och... waily waily waily!" and chucks up a rope. Nice one J-M!

We drive on by up past the Dewsbury Arm, stop for food at the canal-side LIDL supermarket in Mirfield and spot a heron standing incongruously on top of a lamp post like some kind of vulture, by the Huddersfield Canal entrance. At 5pm ish a huge black cloud rolls in and thunder is heard. Mum suggests a rapid moor up. dad claims not to have realised how time was flying by. They moor and retreat inside the boat just as the heavens open. Everybody makes Mum do her Feegles thing again in a sort of "Previously on Wintersmith" like they do on TV before handing the book on to the next reader (Mr S).

But now, in real-time, it's Friday evening, so have a good weekend

Deefski

Downstream

Foiled in our attempt on the summit, we are now heading downstream, and with a few days now spare, we decide to go down beyond Sowerby Bridge to try out the bits of the "navigation" that are, in fact, the River Calder

In forward gear again we slot back into the deliciously relaxing routine, and chug back down through Hebden Bridge (where we take on water and lose bagged up rubbish), and Sowerby Bridge (where the nice staff at Shire Cruisers replace Em-J's exploded life jacket with a non-inflated one; easier to wear for little Em-J). Then on through Copley and the lovely scenic Salterhebble, where we stop for the night

Mum and Dad have brought with them the bat-detector box , and the Silverwoods are fascinated to stand this on the bow of the boat in the dark, and then marry the squarks, burps, pitter-pats and farts of the box, to the bats we can see zooming round the basin, curving, diving, loop-th-looping and racing in (mating?) pairs. At least some of these, say Mum and Dad, might be Daubentons (we can tell by the frequency). They are certainly too big to be pipistrelles

Evenings are good for chilling out. We dogs are allowed to stroll the canal banks provided the humans are out and about, generally relaxing on the deck with a glass of nice Rioja. The girls have done blackberrying, and are now collecting berries, leaves, flowers and herby bits to make Harry Potter "potions" to cure bruising and mozzie bites (allegedly)

With morning we chug on down through Elland and Brookfoot to Brighouse, where we drop down into the River Calder. Here Dad decides to give the boat a bit more ooomph (realistically 4-5 mph rather than our normal 2!) and chogs up the throttle. We mustn't make a "breaking wake" in the rules, but it's nice to see the proper "V" of a bow-wave and the girls are hanging over the blunt bow watching the water rise. We are shepherded out of the Calder at a weir, through the "flood locks", and lunch (almost) under the M62 near Kirklees.

That's it, though for our downward run. Running out of days, we must turn round and head back up towards Sowerby Bridge, mooring overnight near the basin, so that we can bimble back in to hand the boat back for 09.30. Mum is convinced that all Yorkshire ladies are as fastidious cleaners as Diamond's aged aunt Ella, so she is determined to pre-blitz the boat before hand over.

That's pretty much it for my tale of our adventures on "Northumberland". All that was left was a diversion in the cars to the summit we had failed to reach on Wednesday. We drove there in 30 minutes (it took 3 days in the boat!), parked up and went for a walk about behind the "Summit" pub. Then we parted company with the Silverwoods; they off to Liverpool for a visit to Anfield (Mad keen 'Pool supporters all!) and a night in a hotel; we for the 4 hour drive home.

Fantastic

More tomorrow, as memories occur

Hope you've enjoyed my nautical tale.

I am One Year Old on Monday

Have a great weekend

Deefer

Oh - the pics today

1) The River Calder below Brighouse, with the signposted right turn towards Sowerby Bridge

2) We loved this waterpoint at the Summit, labelled K9 and (naturally) housing a doggie water bowl

3) Another bottom-bunk escape hole

4) Keeping watch from the aft deck