In Search of Spike

 

In warm sunshine we bid farewell to Leeds and took the lock down onto the river to start our journey on the Aire and Calder Navigation - another waterway conquered, but this time a double  whammy of rivers. First made navigable in 1700 this transport route quickly became a huge success taking coal out of the Yorkshire coalfield and bringing back raw wool, corn and agricultural produce. Continued improvements and expansions saw it link ultimately to the North Sea at Goole and Hull. It is capable of carrying boats of up to 600 tons making it a serious big boy that dwarfs little narrow boats. Keep your eyes peeled for any such beasts.

Within minutes we arrived at its first lock and were amazed at its size especially after the what now seemed terribly short canal locks. No windlass needed here. Lovely smart electric consoles operated the huge gates and what must surely be enormous water sluices.   Again the river was so quiet we had the lock to ourselves and Fandango looked SO tiny in the vast stretch of lock making us feel a little guilty that so much water would be needed to lower our tiny sardine can.  

 

Considering how much water was being discharged it was amazing how quickly we were on our way out into open countryside and then through the four locks before Castleford. We had every lock to ourselves so became very adept at operating those push buttons - lovely.

 

At Castleford we had to turn right avoiding the powerful weir dead ahead and remembering not to go left and onward to Sheffield and Hull - definitely not in the spreadsheet. Here the river has been much straightened leaving abandoned oxbow lakes to either side but again lovely mechanised locks. We arrived at Stanley Ferry Aqueducts for a refreshing beer and a look at these amazing constructions. 

The new concrete one was added in 1981 as the 1839 original was thought to be at risk from the large craft that can navigate here now.  Having atypically not read her Nicholson Guide properly the captain was blissfully unaware we were supposed to use the new aqueduct but with no stop signs and a narrow boat parked at its further end for encouragement we crossed this fine structure without incident. Built on the same principle as the Sydney Harbour Bridge (but pre-dating it by nearly a hundred years!) it is a striking landmark supporting the vast iron water trough and using in excess of 1000 tons of cast iron in its construction. It's build quality was tested early on when a freak flood of the Calder below swamped the bridge with water flowing into and across the trough. Hats off to George Lather the engineer responsible.

 

Along this section of the route we dipped in and out of canal and the river through flood gates all of which were open but were a reminder of how quickly a river can be transformed into a raging torrent as we witnessed on the Severn. Just before Wakefield at the typographically challenged "Fall Ing Lock" we now joined the Calder and Hebble Navigation, another river based waterway built after lengthy controversy in the 1760s. Much anticipated by the captain, this navigation had required the acquisition of a wooden "spike" to operate the gate paddles.

In my desire to catch up I clean forgot to tell the tale of the spike acquisition which actually took place before Leeds at a pretty little town called Rodney. In need of pump out and diesel, we had searched the Nicholson and saw Rodney as a suitable boat yard. Calling ahead the kindly owner agreed to stay open for us (we were running behind spreadsheet schedule) but as we approached we saw no "boatyard" just a row of double and triple parked narrow boats. Unclear what to do Ros leapt off to go ahead and check things out but just as she disappeared from sight I was hailed by a white haired chap who should have been well into retirement who instructed me to gently pull up alongside a small sailing boat and between two other narrow boats in a tiny space he assured me was plenty for our 57 feet. Really?

Now fragile GRP sailing boats and solid steel narrowboats don't exactly mix so I was a trifle terrified of squashing the craft. But gentle manoeuvring and a bit of pushing and shoving from a cheery chap who turned out to be the owners son saw me manage the sensitive berthing. All witnessed by the captain beached on the opposite bank.  Result.

Well the pump out machinery had seen better days and was patched with all sorts of tape and o clips but it just about reached over the parked boats and did its job with some gentle persuasion. The diesel required a move to the opposite bank where it was delivered in ex-army fuel cans in a wheelbarrow. Novel.  

 

We got chatting and on discovering we came from Scotland they enquired about location. Believe it or not they knew it well being regular visitors to Cove and Kilcreggan where they repair engines for local boat owners.  Now clearly our new best friends they responded to Ros' request for information about where to get a "spike" needed for the Calder and Hebble. "Come with me" he said and I joined him in his extraordinary boat yard that bore a striking resemblance to the set of Steptoe and Son but amongst the piles of everything boaty he extracted a three foot piece of wood roughly shaped to do the job. Sorted.

 

Too exhausted to cook after such excitement we lucked in with a take away from a Turkish restaurant that was heaving recently received rave reviews from the Leeds press. Wonderful food and so fresh, I was impressed the captain had persuaded them to do a take away when they were fully booked that night. 

 

So, back to Wakefield.

The regional capital of West Yorkshire, our visit was focused on the Hepworth Gallery and Museum an attractive modern building alongside the weir designed by the same architect who built the Turner gallery in Margate. Full of beautiful Barbara Hepworth sculptures - fascinating story of the evolution of the John Lewis piece on their Oxford Street store - it also had a very weird light and sound installation that basically consisted of an empty room with a few coloured light strips and mindless background noise. 

 

 

Out of Wakefield we made our way to Brighouse through 12 locks. Initially I thought the acquisition of the wooden spike had been in vain as none of the locks required one but then the mechanism began to appear and we encountered the struggle that this primitive form of paddle operation entailed. At times too hard for Ros to make any impression with these quaint museum pieces quickly became a pet hate as I burst my back trying to shift the wretched things. Not helped by meeting a very pleasant chap at one lock who proudly pointed to his five foot purpose designed metal spike "that'll give you some leverage" he boasted. 

 

 

Size clearly did matter in this instance.