Here I am, at altitude at last. Mt. Washington has been a wonderful place to return to, every day sunny, the nights cool, with old friends nearby. Having said that, it’s not all perfect. I’ve actually been thinking a lot about the differences between summers in the UK on a narrowboat, and winters in Canada on a ski hill (or ‘mountain’ to those overseas).

The obvious differences aside, it’s mostly the little things that I tend to think about. I have a dishwasher again. I have a washer and dryer at hand. I have 500 channels on the TV, unlimited hot water (or simply unlimited water for that matter), all the A/C power I want without worrying about whether the sun is shining, and easy access to groceries any time I want.

On the other side, I’m not able to just move my home to the next quiet, serene location should I choose to. I’m not meeting new and wonderful people on a daily basis, although I suspect this will change when ski season starts. There’s a distinct lack of local, traditional pubs to explore, or pubs at all. I’m suddenly spending much more money on fuel as the roads have many more uphill sections than the canals (not counting the locks) and the distances in Canada tend to be much greater. Travelling at 110 km/h instead of 5 also influences that one. Mostly I’m missing the friends I have made ‘over there’. I’m rapidly making up for that one with some great visits with my Canadian friends all over the Island but those in England do seem very far away.

 

Back in September I had a great few days with Rich and Jane, they had hired a boat on the Llangollen and we cruised together down onto the Middlewich Branch. As they were continuing on a section I’d already been on, I stopped short and enjoyed the scenery and isolation.

As September became October I noticed a distinct change in daily life. The nights became very cold, necessitating turning on the central heating earlier and more often. The wood stove was great but didn’t tend to last all night, and didn’t heat the bedroom very well all the way at the stern. Also the solar became much less reliable. Even if the sun did shine (not that often), the angle was low enough and the hours few enough to not be sufficient. I had to start up the engine once or twice a day in order to keep the batteries charged and not do damage to them (if they ran down too far). And of course I had to be quite circumspect with power use.

Shortly before flying home, I moved the boat into a marina, which eased many of the issues significantly. I now had as much water as I needed, lots of power from the mains plug, and easy access to groceries via delivery. I also had some great company as I had met several people on nearby boats. I soon joined their daily yak sessions on the dock, discussing the weather and politics, but mostly talking about boats, with the occasional pub visit.

The time in the marina was quite uneventful, mostly getting the boat ready for winter and waiting out rainy days with the wood stove going. However, Phil took me to my first Rugby League match, which happened to be the National Final, and was at Old Trafford (a very large and very famous stadium). Huge fun!

Eventually the time came for them to pull Cool Change out of the water for the winter. They did that shortly after I left as I was catching an early train to Cornwall for a quick visit before heading to Gatwick Airport. Leaving was bittersweet, hard to say goodbye to a life I’ve come to love but anticipating some great skiing back home.

So now I’m back to where I started this blog post. Up the mountain waiting for the next season to start. Life couldn’t be much better, and I’m truly thankful; for my friends, my health, and for the life I’ve fallen into.

There’s been a surge of interest lately for ‘living small’. Tiny homes, RVs, repurposed shipping containers, all have seen innovations recently to become more liveable and practical. And it’s trendy so what’s not to like? Living on a boat, particularly a narrowboat, is very much in this category, with some added issues.

First, a little history; narrowboats began as work boats, delivering the goods and supplies that fuelled the Industrial Revolution in Britain in the 18th century. A single horse-drawn narrowboat could supply as much as 50 times the tonnage that a horse and cart could deliver, albeit at about the same speed. In the early 1800s boat operators began to bring their families aboard, partly to save on rent at home, and partly as ‘free’ crew to help with the work. Of course, living space on the boat was at the expense of profitable cargo space, so the ‘boatman’s’ cabin’ was tiny. Usually about eight feet long, and often housing a family of five or more, it was a model of compact efficiency.

Eventually railways took over the majority of the cargo-carrying business throughout Britain. By the early 20th century commercial use of narrowboats was rapidly fading out although some small vestiges (including a few horse-drawn ones) continued into the 1960s.

As the canals themselves fell into disuse, many intrepid volunteers began to resurrect the waterways and the boats for recreational use. The ‘modern’ narrowboat is typically 50-70 feet long, built of steel, and has a diesel engine. But it’s still less that seven feet wide (hence; narrowboat) in order to utilise many of the narrow locks and has retained some of the historical compact efficiency. Most have all the usual modern amenities; central heat, refrigerator, shower, etc. However, there is a big ‘but’. Even though the modern narrowboat has many 21st century conveniences, they often come with significant differences from shore-based homes. I’ll go through them one at a time, although they are often inter-related…

Power

Since my boat has a reasonably powerful diesel engine, raw power isn’t usually a problem. There are two alternators to charge a bank of four high-capacity batteries for running all the electrical (and electronic) devices on board. As with many things however, it’s not always that simple. Lead-acid batteries (the usual car type) are quite finicky with their charging regime. They like to be kept charged up, and will break down and fail if they’re run down past about 50% of their capacity. So it’s vital that close attention is paid to them. I’ve recently installed solar panels, which has helped immensely over the summer (not so much now that autumn is upon us). They supply enough wattage that I don’t have to start the engine for days on end if I’m not travelling. Most of my equipment on board is 12 volt so I don’t need to run the inverter to convert to 240v AC except to charge my laptop (I’ll be investing in a 12v charger this year). The inverter itself takes significant power so it reduces the efficiency of the system. I try to only run it when the engine is running (to charge my ‘Hoover’ for instance).

Water

My boat, like most narrowboats, has a large-capacity water tank. I can go many days or even weeks without needing to refill it, and there are numerous water points around the system so obtaining the water isn’t a big problem. But again, careful watch must be kept. I’ve only run out once, and it’s a pain. In a house the supply of water is generally seen as an endless thing, not to be worried about (except in an ecological, save-the-planet sort of  way). I’ve grown very accustomed to only running taps, including the shower, as needed. Wet down, turn tap off, shampoo and wash, turn tap on to rinse. This actually goes double for hot water. The only ways to get hot water are by running the engine (cooling water is cycled through a ‘calorifier’ or hot-water tank) or the central heating system that runs radiators throughout the boat and also cycles through the tank. It’s well insulated so I have at least 24 hours of hot water after only a short engine run but it’s definitely something that has to be thought about daily.

Waste

Now we’ve come to perhaps the biggest issue on narrowboats. Get two boaters together for more than 5 minutes and they’ll be debating the issue of toilets. Mine is a pump-out type, with a large holding tank, but there are several others, each with their own advantages and disadvantages. I won’t get into that here, google it to learn more than you would ever want to know about them and what can cause an argument on a narrowboat online forum.

I have found that I can go several weeks without needing to pump out, and almost every marina has a facility so that hasn’t been a problem. I’m quite stingy with how much water I use to flush, as I am with water use in general. Again, it must be thought about and monitored, much different from living ashore.

Groceries

Lots of people, on shore, tend to do a reasonably large shop for groceries every week or two. They have a freezer for much of it, a large refrigerator, and lots of cupboard space. On a narrowboat this isn’t often the case. I have a small bar fridge, with a tiny freezer section, so I really do have to be careful how much I buy at one time. Even space to store dry goods is at a premium. To complicate matters, access to a grocery store is a bit hit-and-miss. Often a selected cruising route doesn’t go near a town or village for many miles (which translates to many days at 3 miles per hour). Careful planning is necessary; I’ve learned to keep certain things handy in case the fresh food runs out, like pasta and jars of sauce, beans, soups, etc. And, really, there are always pubs.

Fuel

This really comes under the title of Power. The diesel engine supplies not only propulsion, but also hot water and electrical power. Even the central heating radiators are diesel fired. In a house, these things are just sort of ‘there’. Gas (petrel) stations are everywhere for the car, hot water just comes out of the tap, and stuff works when you plug it in. So keeping an eye on the fuel level is important. Having said that, I fill with fuel nearly every time I pump out the holding tank (usually a marina will have both together) so it’s not a big problem, just another thing to think about.

Laundry

This isn’t really a make-or-break subject, but it is certainly much different than in most homes on land. Very few narrowboats have a washing machine on board (although more and more are installing them), and even fewer have a dryer. The power and water needs make this simply impractical. They also take up considerable valuable space on board. I have found that simply having many more pairs of socks, underwear, and t-shirts helps to solve this. The number of  ‘launderettes’ in Britain is declining like everywhere else so some planning is involved. If I’m going near a village or town, the first thing I check for is a pub, the second is a grocery store, and the third is a launderette. Finding one has become a reason to celebrate and often I’ll stay an extra day to clear up the backlog of clothes, linens, and towels that need washing. I do have a clothes drying rack and will wash things in the sink if necessary but that hasn’t been much help this summer as it’s been raining nearly every other day since June!

Life in general

I’ve had several wonderful visits aboard this summer, and I start each one with some instructions. First is that “There are no secrets on a narrowboat”. We will all know when you go to the bathroom, whether you snore, what you like to eat and drink, and many more intimate details. But that’s also part of the fun! Acquaintances become friends, and friends become family. All it takes is a good attitude.

Within the limits of reality life can be very relaxed and carefree on the ‘cut’. Where you take the boat is completely up to you (and your guests) as long as you stick to the canals. I have made some side trips on land as well, and with the great public transportation system over here, almost all of the country is within a few hours of a canal. There is lots to see and do.

The pub culture is alive and well so it’s not always necessary to cook for oneself. However, I have found that when sitting out a rainstorm, cooking dinner is a great way to pass an afternoon. Who knew? With a bit of planning I’ve found that I can produce a pretty good meal, if I do say so myself. Most often in a frying pan, but I’ll move on to the oven some day. I’ve recently discovered that I have one of those…

So with all this taken together, life on a narrowboat (or any boat) isn’t very difficult but isn’t for everyone. The advantages, for me, far outweigh the disadvantages. The freedom to roam or stay, the inexpensive lifestyle, and a wonderful community of people have all contributed to me absolutely loving this life. I’ve lived on my (former) sailboat for an extended period and it was nice but not the same. It was a much bigger issue to cast off and move to another location, there was much more planning involved with tides, charts, weather, and all that stuff. Many of the issues were the same (water, pump outs, power, fuel) but for the most part narrowboating is simply much easier. And I have the advantage of returning to ‘real’ life every autumn! I’m looking forward to seeing many of you soon, and will miss those I’m leaving behind.

///boats.rely.defectors

So I’m still on the Llangollen Canal. I’ve now been over the Pontcysyltte Aqueduct eight times! I do love it up here but it might be time to explore further afield. I’ve also loved the time with all my guests, including the latest, Mel and Kate. They are fellow Snow Hosts from Mt. Washington (or, as my son calls us: The Walmart Greeters of the Mountain) and stayed with me on the boat for several sunny and fun days. I’ve actually posted my first YouTube video, a side-trip we did on a steam train:

Click here to watch Llangollen Steam Train on YouTube

Don’t judge it too harshly, I had to use a tablet and it was very slow so didn’t do a lot of editing.

We also did all the usual stuff, including the Chirk Castle, pub(s), a BBQ, and of course some cruising…

 

The end of this season’s cruising is fast approaching. One more adventure (weather-dependent) before getting into the marina for a mandatory inspection (mostly gas safety stuff) and winterising. I’ll also have a few days for some sightseeing before flying home, so maybe there’ll be another blog post. I hope everyone is getting ready for a great winter, THINK SNOW!

///cringes.twitches.cement

There’s not much to report these days, the weather has been a bit up and down so I’ve been moving only when it looks like I won’t get soaked. I haven’t always been successful but since I’m not in a rush I’ve stayed pretty dry. There has also been some wind, but that doesn’t pose any issues (as long as I’m not trying to maneuver too much). Last night, for instance, I was very glad to be on the canals and not anchored somewhere on the ocean. I didn’t feel any affects in terms of the boat moving but it was loud enough to keep me awake for a while. Apparently I was hearing the remains of Hurricane Dorian that had decimated the Bahamas last week. It’s a nice spot however, I’ll be staying an extra night here.

Going back a few days, after leaving Natwich and the Food Festival I headed south as I had heard about a ‘secret’ bunker that was now a visitor attraction. The Hack Green Secret Nuclear Bunker is anything but secret, even during the cold war! It’s a large building, and a huge radar installation, visible for miles around.

Although much of it is underground, it wasn’t a bunker in the sense of people sheltering there, apparently it was a control centre in the event of a nuclear war. It was well worth the visit though. It was operational from the advent of the Cold War until 1992, and is stuffed with military memorabilia and equipment. The feeling of impending doom that must have pervaded the place, and the people, is still palpable.

Just south of Hack Green is one of the most beautiful mooring locations I’ve found. It’s just a long stretch of open canal, but has picnic tables and BBQ stands all along. The area is quiet and rural, there was even a fishing competition getting set up. Each village has a team and they compete against nearby villages (this was actually just a ‘practice’ apparently).

As I’ve mentioned before, there is still lots of evidence of the long history of the canals visible, particularly from the time when the boats were drawn by horses. I’ve seen old stables converted to holiday homes, caves converted to stables, and many instances of the ropes used to tow the boats leaving a lasting imprint on the bridges. In this case, cast iron protectors have been added that only just managed to save the brickwork. I can’t imagine the number of horses that plodded by this spot in order to cut so deeply into solid iron.

And that brings things up to date. I’m presently back on the Llangollen Canal (again!), making my way to pick up some visitors. As anyone that has been keeping up on the blog knows, I love showing people this stretch of canal, it’s got everything: remote rural scenery, locks, aqueducts, tunnels, pubs, and even a castle.

They don’t arrive for a few days though, so I’m taking my time and enjoying some quiet days. If it rains I light the fire and relax, if not I get a bit of work done on the boat (and the blog). I hope everyone has had as good a summer as I have, and all are healthy and happy. Please don’t hesitate to comment or send me a message, I still love hearing what you’re all up to!

///qualifier.homelands.baffle

Chester is an ancient city, established by the Romans around 74 AD. It’s situated on the River Dee, although in Roman times it was a shipping port as the ocean came much closer to the city walls. Surrounding nearly the entire city is a high stone wall and walkway, the most complete in all of Britain. It’s approximately 3 kilometres around, broken only for about 100m. There are seven gates into the city, and several towers. The Eastgate Clock is the second-most photographed clock in Britain (after only the Elizabeth Tower – Big Ben – in London). There, some facts to show I’ve done my homework.

In addition to the famous wall, Chester is known for it’s ‘rows’, covered walkways with storefronts. Shoppers can walk long stretches of the main streets one floor up and completely under cover…a nice touch in this often rainy area.

While I was in the area, I left the boat in a marina and was treated to a visit with Wendy in Birkenhead (across the Mersey River from Liverpool). I got to visit her lovely family and friends, did some sightseeing in Liverpool, and finally learned how the scoring in cricket works! Some of it anyways. Oh, and don’t let the apparent sunshine and blue sky in Liverpool fool you, it rained at least twice that day.

Upon my return to the boat, I headed back south along the Shropshire Union canal. At one of the locks I happened to notice a memorial bench, and had a closer look…

I guess it’s a popular spot…

Further on I was fortunate to find the last mooring spot near the town of Nantwich. This is a remarkable and beautiful town, full of crooked but well-maintained Tudor buildings. And lots and lots of pubs. While I was there, they had an amazing Food Festival on, hundreds of vendors with marquees everywhere. The parish church was also one of the most elegant I’ve seen, called by some the finest medieval church in all of England. Originating in the 14th century, much of the woodwork in the quire is original. The stained glass isn’t however, most of  it was lost during or after the reformation.

Just a final note, I’m embarrassed to say that I now have a new phone, and with it a temporary number. Once I get a SIM sent out I’ll be able to go back to the same UK phone number I had before (in case anyone tries to call or WhatsApp). I seem to have a sad history of chucking phones into the water off the stern of boats. That’s three now, although I did two at one time previously. I’m still in the process of recovering photos and video from the cloud, luckily they were all uploaded in real time. I’ll post more pictures as I download them. If anyone wants me to contact them with the new number, just leave a comment.

///peach.darkest.wisdom

Most of my blog posts this year have been about what I’m doing, who I’m with, and where I’m going. In reading over some of the posts from last year, there seemed to have been more “I’m so glad I’m doing this” and “this is contentment” sort of writing. Perhaps this year I’m more used to the life and the newness has worn off. Perhaps it’s simply not as much fun as last year (just kidding).

So here is my take on the second season on a narrowboat.

I’m no longer having to learn new things on a daily basis, which makes it a bit more relaxing even if a bit less exciting. The sights I’m seeing are new since I’m on canals I’ve never been on but in general it’s all quite familiar. I’m loving having the freedom to pick and choose destinations, I wasn’t able to do that as much last year. When I was on the Kennet & Avon navigation, from where I bought the boat, there was really only one way to go as it is basically a dead-end canal. Once I returned to Reading and headed up the Thames on to the main part of the system, I had many more choices but that was not long before I went back to Canada. This year, I’m deep in the heart of the UK canal system and I have so many options to choose from.

I’ve already made one major change in the plan, not going up north to the Leeds and Liverpool canal this year. I’ve also made many other smaller choices and changes, almost on a daily basis. It’s very liberating in a small but important way. This is what I had dreamed retirement was all about. Freedom to make choices, to decide moment to moment what my next move will be, such as when to get up and when to go to bed, whether to turn left or right. Simple decisions but mine to make. There are, of course, other repercussions to retired life; I have to be more careful with money for instance. I’m very fortunate to have a great pension but it’s still a ‘fixed income’ so it limits the big choices. I have a fairly average boat, not nearly as fancy as many, and living simply on a it or in a condo in Canada will do just fine.

Another consequence of the freedom to cruise or not each day has been to sit and work on the boat more than last year. Part of this is due to the weather. Last summer was the hottest and driest England had experienced since 1976, perhaps ever. The boat really needed some paint on the outside, particularly the roof, but it was simply too hot every day. This isn’t just an excuse, although I also wasn’t keen on working too much on the boat instead of experiencing all the new adventures I saw before me. This year the weather is more ‘normal’. Cool and a bit rainy, generally pretty crappy. I’m okay with it though, in fact it’s quite like home in the spring. I’ve been using the wood stove a bit, and now that I have solar panels I can make more use of the radiators without running the engine (they take a bit of power to light up and run the pump). Also, it’s been cool enough to get the roof painted! I even got the aft deck ground back to metal, primed, and undercoated. Once it’s dry enough again I’ll get a coat of non-skid on it too.

I’ve really enjoyed getting a bunch of little jobs done too, things that have been annoying me. The sinks had started not draining properly so I got the pipes removed and cleaned out, loose tiles around the stove repaired, the stove itself painted, and I managed to get some of the electrics and wiring tidier and more efficient. Inside jobs have had a bit of a priority simply because of the weather. I think it has rained, on average, at least every other day since the beginning of June. Not always heavy rain, but enough each day to make outside work pretty chancy. I don’t want to have something taken apart or half painted, then have a sudden downpour.

More impressions of this year’s cruising; I’m glad I’m out of the Black Country and back into a rural landscape. There was lots to see going through places like Leicester and Stoke-on-Trent (to name just two) but there were very few secluded and quiet moorings. I’m just not a city person apparently. I have also noticed a larger number of hire boats this year, more than I remember seeing last year. It could be the area I’m in but I think in general the world has caught on to narrowboating. I chatted with a Norwegian family recently, apparently Prunella Scales and Timothy West’s famous television series “Great Canal Journeys” has been airing in prime time in the Scandinavian countries. This might explain the noticeably large numbers of Norwegian, Swedish, Finnish, and Danish flags I’ve seen flying over hire boats on the Llangollen.

Lastly, here’s something a bit off the wall. I’ve got a new canal app, more of a Google Maps overlay, that plots my position and has lots of real-time information about stoppages and other relevant information. On the map, there’s all these random sets of three words, preceded by ‘///’. I have finally found out what they are (all you people that already knew, you’re just smarty-pants). It’s a new geopostitioning system called What3Words. Every single 3mx3m spot on the earth is identifiable by just three words (it’s actually a boon to rescue crews trying to find people, assuming they have service on their phones). So, in an effort to remain relevant in this modern age, I’ll be posting my position via What3Words in case anyone wants to know EXACTLY where I am. If I’m in the bathroom, it’ll be different than if I’m on the stern steering or on the bow sunbathing. Not that there’s ever enough sun for that… Actually, I haven’t figured out a way to put it on the blog in real time so I’ll just type it in whenever I think of it. And you’ll need the app to find the location on a map too. I just thought it was a cool change.

///twist.paddlers.school

Shortly after Rob left to return to work (sorry buddy), I was completely chuffed (as they say here) to welcome Mt. Washington Ski Club friends Steve and Adrienne to the boat. They were in Ireland for a wedding and would be travelling on to Italy later; happily for me they took a side trip to Llangollen and a few days of narrowboating.

Since they arrived at the Chirk train station, I was able to moor literally across the bridge. So they weren’t off the train more than a few moments and the adventure began…

First, the tunnel…

Then the aqueduct… (not THE aqueduct)…

Then on to their first locks…

And then, of course, no first day is complete without a pub!

Okay, so I got the pictures a little out of order, that particular pub was a bit later. Anyway, we cruised up the Llangollen canal, following the route I had taken previously with Rob, to the famous Pontcysllte Aqueduct (and another tunnel).

We had a great night and day in Llangollen before heading back to Chirk. Once we returned to their starting point, we hiked across country for a couple of miles to the Chirk Castle (sounding familiar yet?). No shuttle bus this time but the stroll across the sheep fields was very pleasant.

I had a great time with a couple of great people, I am so glad they took the time and effort to get over to see me. We really had an amazing few days and they completely spoiled me!

After they flew back to Ireland, I headed back down the canal a little ways and made a turn onto the Montgomery Canal. This is a short side branch, only about 6 miles long. It has very limited access, as transit through the locks onto it must be booked at least 24 hours in advance, and only 12 boats each way are allowed per day. This made for a very quiet and peaceful few days, away from the bustle and rush of the hire boats. Wendy was able to make a couple of trips from Liverpool to visit, the second time with her daughter Kate and two of her grandkids, Emily and Sam. We had a blast, even if it was too windy to actually go for a cruise. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to fight the wind and get off the mooring (it was gusting about 30 knots).

The weather over here isn’t really cooperating, it doesn’t much feel like summer most days. I often light a fire in the evening and turn on the furnace in the morning, it’s that cold. It also rains at what seems like every other day. I’m presently slowly cruising toward the end of the Llangollen, moving when it’s dry or at least not chucking it down. I’ll soon go back onto the Shropshire Union Canal itself. From there, I’m not sure…

Stay tuned!

Last summer an old friend indicated that he’d like to visit me on the boat in England. Unfortunately it didn’t work out, mainly because I went back to Canada earlier than originally planned. This year he didn’t let the opportunity get away.

Rob graduated with me from high school in Parksville (many of you will know him) and we’ve kept in touch off and on over the years through Facebook. We met once, briefly, at a reunion years ago. I won’t mention the last time before the reunion that I saw him, many of you might also remember that (it has to do with a certain grad party in 1978).

He is now an airline pilot, and has the fortunate ability to hop on flights (if there are empty seats) to almost anywhere. So this year he came for a visit! I was still in the marina at Church Minshull finishing off the solar panel installation when he arrived. And, as these things tend to be, it was like no time had passed. We fell right back into our friendship, and quickly set off on the canal. I, also as is usual, put him to work on the locks. With minimal instruction of course. Well, I suppose I should have known that a pilot would figure things out pretty quickly…he got the hang of the whole narrowboat world faster than most. Before long he was doing all the driving! To say he loved the canal life might be an understatement, you’d have to verify that with him, but as he’s already planning on returning next year (and an earlier retirement?) I think it’s a safe bet.

We also managed to visit several pubs, another pastime we both had in common…

 

The highlight of the week, and the reason for heading up the Llangollen canal into Wales, was the Pontcysllte Aqueduct. The structure is a World Heritage Site, and a wonder of 19th century engineering. Built on 18 huge stone piers, it’s a cast iron aqueduct carrying the canal 126 feet above the River Dee.

It’s pretty windy up there so the boat tends to careen off the sides and as the metal is only 1/2 inch thick, the sides do bow out as you bounce off. Very disconcerting to say the least but the crossing is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I recommend it.

The town of Llangollen at the end of the canal is very pretty and generally centred on the canal. It has good moorings (at a small fee but with power and water), decent shopping, and lots to see. We didn’t take the steam train but I do hope to do so in the next couple of weeks. It was also pretty cool to see the horse-drawn day boat, a bit of living history…

The return trip ‘down’ the Llangollen canal included a side trip to the Chirk Castle. It was a bit of a hike but we were lucky to get a ride from a shuttle bus that was off it’s route. The castle has an interesting history. Much of the building is medieval, having been started in the 13th century by Roger Mortimer of Chirk on behalf of King Edward I to help ‘subdue’ the Welsh. It is a Grade 1 listed site now owned by the National Trust but was lived in as a family home until 2004.

The same family occupied the castle for over 400 years, and most of the furniture and art is still there.

I can’t overstate how great the ‘reunion’ with Rob was. Old friends remain friends, as if no time has passed. We relived past glories, commiserated about never-forgotten troubles, shared our histories over the last 40 years, and compared our plans for the future. I certainly look forward to doing it all again next year! And if anyone has any doubts about why I’m doing this adventure, just ask Rob, he gets it.

 

So, as many would know through my other social media posts, I finally made the decision to install solar panels on Cool Change.

As a bit of background, it’s common for narrowboats to have the panels as it’s rare to moor in a marina with ‘mains’ power. Most of the mooring is on the towpath, often in quite remote areas, but just as often in an area with other boats. It’s bad form to run your engine or a generator while moored up and since many of the systems on board require significant power (the fridge, computer, TV, starting up the water heater, etc), solar is a great way to keep everything working without the noise and smell of a running motor. Keeping the fridge running is particularly important, I like my ciders cold.

The way this summer has been going, battery power has become even more of an issue for me since I am spending considerable time moored up, waiting for the rain to stop. Certainly much more than last year which was a record warm and sunny year. I therefore made the final decision to just get the damn panels installed. I have wavered and waffled at every boat show and chandlery, looking at alternatives and options. There are large, high power and very efficient solid panels, smaller ones that would fit better on the roof but not give as much output, and easy-to-install flexible ones that are simply glued down. Many of the flexible ones can even be safely walked on but they aren’t as efficient and often come with heat problems, further reducing their power output and lifespan. Being able to walk along the roof is particularly important for me as I mostly operate single-handed and need to climb in and out of locks. There are ladders in each lock but their location isn’t very predictable so can usually only be accessed from the roof. 

First I chose a boatyard with a good reputation and close enough to where I was going. Aqueduct Marina near Church Minshull fit the bill, and could slot me in. Once I arrived we made all the measurements and ordered the parts, but as they would take a few days to arrive, I cracked on with other projects that I’d been putting off for far too long. Most importantly, I got most of the roof prepped and painted (since once the panels were installed this would be considerably more difficult). As I wasn’t allowed to grind, sand, or paint in the marina (the boats are very close together, after all), I had to pull out onto the canal and moor on the towpath each day to do the work. Unfortunately due to the rain I wasn’t able to paint every day, which slowed the whole process. I also had to return to the marina often to recharge the sander and grinder.

After finishing the roof, and during times I couldn’t paint, I installed a second foot step to climb on the roof, redid a bunch of plumbing that’s been annoying me, sanded and painted the deck at the stern, added some coat hooks, and a bunch of other little chores that I’ve been putting off.

As for the solar installation, I decided to go for the hard panels but somewhat narrower than usual (a special order of course). I wanted to position them on the centre line with enough space on either side to walk safely. As it turned out, they fit very nicely between two ‘mushroom’ vents, allowing safe access to much of the roof.

Another issue was always where to run the wires. I had already resigned myself to a slightly longer wire run than is recommended (voltage drop on long runs reduces the power received at the batteries) by having the panels mounted more forward on the roof. This space was clear and would make the installation simpler. Many people simply run the wiring along the outside, on the roof, to the stern where they can then access the control area and battery compartment. I didn’t want that, I wanted everything hidden and protected (from the sun, from stepping on them, from dirt and rain, etc). As it turned out, we were able to place the panel wiring directly over a cupboard in the galley. Drilling into the boat at this point made it possible to cover up inside and run the wires into the walls. From there back to the stern was a simple run, tucked up under the gunwale ‘ledge’ (this is a walkway that all narrowboats have, to walk along the outside of the boat when necessary).

There was potentially a better way, through a wireway on the ceiling, but we weren’t able to remove the woodwork without significant damage. I wasn’t interested in hiring a carpenter to fix it afterwards (although getting Darren over to do it did occur to me).

Finally, once all the wires were routed into the stern cabinet, the electronic control box was mounted and connected to the batteries. Now, the panels can continuously supply current directly, with the ‘smart’ box regulating how much. This box is monitored via Bluetooth from my phone, and some settings can be changed. Other things are set on the box itself, different charging profiles for different battery types, for instance.

I’m not going to show the battery connection, I’m too embarrassed about the condition of my engine compartment. It’s my next project!

It’s been a lot of work (compared to what I’ve become used to) but I’m looking forward to being out in the middle of nowhere, or moored outside a pub, and not have to run my engine for a couple of hours, twice a day, to keep the ciders cold.

I’d like to give a big shout-out to the beautiful Aqueduct Marina at Church Minshull. I’ve been treated extremely well, it’s all gone as smoothly as these things can go. Thanks to Brian for his expertise and hard work, it was a pleasure to work with him. Also to Chris for arranging things, to Nick for getting me a spot, Georgia for all her help at the front desk, and to Dave and David in the chandlery. It was pretty handy being able to drop in several times a day for tools, paint, and parts. I’ll see you all again in the fall when I drop the boat for the winter.

 

It’s July 1 already. Wow, the summer is going quickly. Or what summer we’ve had. The record-breaking heat wave that is sweeping across Europe hit here the other day. That’s right, one day only. The temperature got up to 30, I had to get the fan going, take off my jacket, and put on shorts! But at about 6 pm the temperature plummeted to about 15 and has pretty much stayed there or below ever since. I’m not complaining, just noting that if Climate Change is going to happen one day at a time, we’ve got nothing to worry about!

The last couple of days were nice easy cruises to reach the marina for my solar panel installation. Having said that, the turn onto the Middlewich Branch of the Shropshire Union Canal was an experience in itself, and my blood pressure was the highest it’s been for a while! It’s a blind junction with a boatyard and locks right there on both canals so it’s already a tight space. Boats coming down from the Middlewich can’t see under the bridge and around the corner to know if anyone is coming the other way

I <was> coming the other way, and had waited for three boats to pass through ahead of me. I also did the right thing; I walked up to the lock and told the crew of the boat coming down that I was waiting to go up, to leave the gates open when they exited. I said it at least three times. After they came out from under the bridge, I turned the very tight corner into the pretty confined space before the lock (see photo above). Someone had closed the gates and started filling the lock to come down! I honked my horn, waved and shouted and they just said “we were told to close them”! They didn’t stop but just continued poaching ‘my’ lock…

(I might be making too big a deal out of this but don’t have much else to write about)

I managed to pull myself out of their way, we had a short chat, blamed the hire-boat that had just gone through, and carried on with our day. That’s about as exciting as things get on ‘the cut’.

The Middlewich Branch is beautiful, I loved the day cruising along it. Very rural and quiet, almost nobody around. Even the towpath was just a grassy sward with no sign of an actual path (indicates nobody walks or cycles it). Part way along was this well-kept building, what looked like a cottage. It was quite confusing as there were no windows, until I reached the end and could read the sign. It said “Canal Stables”… so this was a spot that the horses that pulled the canal boats were stabled. It’s only about the third location like it that I’ve seen, not many seem to have survived. After a bit of research, I found that it was converted in 1999, not to everyone’s satisfaction but at least the building is still intact. Actually it was quite lovely, even without windows. And the boaters couldn’t gawk into their front room like many of the canal-side homes!

As it’s Canada Day I’ve done the best I can to announce it over here. It’s not a holiday of course, so the solar panel installation should begin soon…more on that in the coming days. In the meantime, Happy Canada Day everyone, I hope everyone back home feels the same pride that I do for our country, our people, and our place in the world.