Bath To Bath
Monday Twenty-Sixth August was the Summer Bank Holiday but we needed to move. We had been on our Forty-Eight Hour mooring for a cheeky three days and we were now just one week from our crossing of the Severn and all the related bookings.
We weren't quite done with Bath yet, though. We needed to get some food supplies and fill up with water, the only free facility actually available in Bath. Since we were moored right beside a water point we dealt with that first, which took a while as it appeared to be in great demand. After that, we carried on towards the final locks onto the River Avon, aiming to moor up down at Bath Quays.
It is only about a mile but there are seven locks to work through. It was sunny and warm and there were plenty of boats on the move so it still took a couple of hours. Helpfully, some CRT volunteers were on hand to see us out of the bottom lock, which saved us having to moor up in the current and shut the gates. We approached the visitor moorings at Bath Quays, which seemed much busier today. We spotted a gap and headed straight for it. Embarrassingly, despite our earlier reconnaissance, we failed to recognise that this was where the sunken boat was. There was just room, upstream of the wreck, for us to get alongside the wharf, although that meant reversing up against the current. Fortunately, it was calm enough that day to get away with it, rather than having to turn around and come back in again.
The position of the railings was just as awkward as we had expected but we could cope with clambering over them for one night so we tied up and headed for Sainsbury's. The area along the Quays was busy with Bank Holiday visitors but they all seemed quite well-behaved. We did wonder if this would become a magnet for late-night youths and revellers but it remained quite peaceful and there were no issues with inquisitive passers-by.
Working Weston Lock
After we had moored up on Monday a smaller narrowboat called "Fitzrovia" had come down behind us. After we warned them about the obstacle in front of us they had found a space a bit further down and we had a chat with them about their journey. On Tuesday morning we got ready to leave and as they were preparing at the same time we agreed to go down through the locks together.
Despite a grey start, it was dry and mild but quite windy as we set off. We had about five or six miles to go but only three locks, which seemed quite manageable for a relaxed cruise. We arrived at the first of the locks, Weston Lock, feeling confident and then spent two hours there, struggling to get it open and emptied. Additional boats arrived, some of whom turned back, many suggestions and theories were advanced, none of which proved effective. Apart from the sheer size of these river locks and their poor condition, there was just too much water leaking out at the bottom compared to the flow through the open paddles at the top. In the end we decided to empty it completely, open the bottom gates and then close them again with me standing in the middle, trying to make sure that the mitred faces of the two gates were as exactly flush as possible. When we filled the lock again this seemed to have been just enough equalise the pressure and get the gates open.
Anger On The Avon
A couple of miles further on we came to Kelston Lock, which was a little easier to operate, although we had to wait for a while as it was already in use. "Fitzrovia" and we went through together and continued down the exposed river, not very far, to Saltford Lock.
The wind had risen considerably by now and we could see a boat was just leaving downstream. There was another on the lock landing, which was just long enough for one narrowboat. "Fitzrovia" was ahead of us and they ended up with their nose on the end of the pontoon and most of the boat up against the boom that was designed to stop boats being swept over the weir beside the lock. That left us hanging back up river, waiting for the lock to clear. On a fine day, on the canal, this is no problem. On a major river, in a strong wind, it becomes more problematic. The boater ahead of our two boats opened the top gates and took his vessel into the lock. Seeing that we were being blown about, while they were at least fairly stable, "Fitzrovia" indicated that we should go in ahead of them, so we opened up the throttle and got ourselves lined up to enter.
At this point the owner of the boat already in the lock started waving his arms and shouting. This was the start of an angry tirade about how he had wanted to do the lock on his own and didn't want to share it. Very confused, we tried to find out what he wanted us to do but he seemed to be so angry that he couldn't articulate a clear answer, apart from: "You might as well come in now. You'll just do what you want anyway!". As there was really no scope for just hanging about waiting for him to calm down, we got into the chamber, which was alongside a pub garden.
The irate shouting and yahooing continued as he paced up and down while we asked him, repeatedly, to tell us how he wanted to proceed. The owner of "Fitzrovia", as bewildered as we were, came down and helped us lock through, as the angry man seemed incensed beyond the point of being able to operate the paddles. Meanwhile, the customers enjoying a drink in the pub thought it was hilarious!
Eventually, we got the bottom gates open and our belligerent companion puttered off down river, leaving us none the wiser as to what the problem was. We stayed on the lock landing and helped "Fitzrovia" through, then followed them downstream, scratching our heads over the whole incident. A little further on we both pulled in to a pontoon with access to a water point and Elsan facility, which were shown as being only available between April and October. The water point was fine. The Elsan had a sign saying: "Not to be used until April 2024" but despite it being August it was firmly padlocked. That was a bit of a blow since we hadn't seen a facility since Saturday but ultimately we just swapped in an empty cassette.
Squatting At Saltford Mead
"Fitzrovia" pushed on once they had taken on water. We, however, decided to embrace our inner rebel. The pontoon we were on was designated as "No Overnight Mooring". However, it was already three o'clock and we had seen very little traffic. It seemed unlikely that anyone would come along now and there was room for one or two more boats so we decided to stay here overnight.
We had intended to move on around the next bend to a one day mooring just under Ferris Railway Bridge but we sensed that it was quite likely to be full and the next spot was much farther on, with no more certainty of having space. Leaving the boat, I took Archie for a walk a mile or so downstream, along the river bank and under the bridge, to where we could see the actual mooring pontoon on the opposite side. Sure enough it was chock-a-block with floating sheds. The well established encampments, with makeshift fireplaces and washing lines, made it rather obvious that not only was it full but the boats moored there weren't about to move on any time soon. Staying put where we were was clearly the best choice.
Visitor Mooring At Saltford Mead
We were barely back at the boat before another narrowboat arrived and joined us on the pontoon for the night. They had come up from Bristol and had hoped to moor at the one day mooring we had just inspected, so finding it full they had ended up with us. Apart from them, no-one else arrived to use the water point or complain that we were moored illegally, either during the rest of that evening or before we left the following morning.
Hanging On In Hanham
On Wednesday morning we set off at around nine-thirty, heading for Hanham Lock, lock number one. After that there would be no more locks and nowhere to stop until we got to Netham Lock, the gateway to Bristol Harbour, where the expensive private moorings were booked from Friday, Thirtieth August.
Just around the corner was Swineford Lock, where we were lucky to find a couple of CRT employees preparing to bring their work boat through. This lock turned out to be very slow and even more difficult to equalise than Weston Lock had been, so we were thankful that they were there to do the heavy lifting and manage the process, although it was quite by chance. Even so, it took forty minutes to get through and on to the next one at Keynsham.
Given that we did not want to go past Hanham Lock today, we were now nervous that we would arrive there and find the two day visitor mooring blocked by long term squatters. There was one other possibility, just before Keynsham Lock, so we thought that, if we saw a space, we would stop there. No such luck, the one space that had been available was occupied just before we arrived, so we had no choice but to go on through.
There was a cruiser coming up and working the lock. Despite having been stuck there for four days with engine trouble, the owner didn't seem anything like as volatile as our friend from the previous afternoon. Apparently, he was quite new to boating and had been there for a few days, hanging off a single pin hammered into the undergrowth, with his wife, a dog and a baby on board, trying to get help and advice. Eventually someone suggested getting in the water and checking the propellor shaft. At that point he identified the complete duvet jammed around his propellor and spent some happy hours in the water cutting it free. This was the second time this year we had become aware that we should be grateful we at least had a weed hatch through which to access our propellor.
Approaching Hanham Lock we could see, across to the right, the two day visitor mooring, once again full of boats that had clearly taken up residence for weeks. We slowed down and hovered there wondering what to do next. We weren't sure about mooring alongside other boats and there was no-one around we could see, so we might well have ended up being forced to go through the lock. However, while we mulled it over, someone appeared on the bow of a big Dutch barge called "Fairy Rae" and he encouraged us to go alongside another narrowboat moored just in front of him. He was called Josh and he lived on board with his partner Flo. They had been up the river for a few weeks but he told us that the boats here, now, were pretty much the same ones that had been there when they had stayed there about six weeks ago. He assured us that mooring alongside was the accepted norm and it would be fine. Josh helped us tie up alongside the unoccupied narrowboat and we settled in for lunch and wondered if there would be any problem when the owner returned.
That afternoon, amongst other arrangements, we decided to bring our reservation in Bristol forward to the next day. As we had come down to this point, the land had been rising on each side, so we had a stiff climb up on to the ridge and then a nice stretch along it, before dropping down into the valley again to follow the riverbank back. The mooring was beside two pubs so, after a good walk it was time for a relaxing pint.
Around seven o'clock, our neighbour arrived home. She did knock on the side to speak to us but only to ask how long we were going to be there as she had plans to move on and get some water the following afternoon. Other than that she had no problem with our being there, so we could relax. She barely disturbed us as she got ready for work the next morning and we were gone long before she returned.
We had some squally rain on Thursday morning so we waited for that to pass and set out about eleven o'clock for the final few miles into Bristol harbour.