This post celebrates a momentous occasion, for the first time in over a year Wrens-Nest has left her moorings!
My friend, Karen has never been boating so we took the opportunity of a couple of fine days to make an easy trip, with no locks, to give her a taster experience,
Zoe (her dog) came along too and kept us amused. Because I had turned the boat around in readiness for our departure she positively refused to get on the back of the boat as it was in the ‘wrong place’ but leapt on the front and came through the boat to meet us.
Once we got underway she was a bit nervous, and insisted on sitting on Karen’s lap for most of the journey, perhaps it was the engine noise.
As we came to the end of The Arm we went over The Telford Aqueduct which carries us over ‘The New Main Line’ onto ‘The Old Main Line’ which runs at a higher level.
We stopped here to clear rubbish (mainly plastic sacks) from around the propeller, this was to become a recurring theme!
The first part of the journey is quite rural and the first landmark is The ‘New’ Pumping Station which was installed to pump water from Telford’s new main line in the cutting to the left to the old main line which we were on.
Next came the fairly modern Summit Tunnel, which is more like a long bridge carrying railway lines over the canal.
Soon after we met the M5 Motorway which was built over the canal; a lot of work is going on here repairing and strengthening it which you would never know about from above.
We encountered more rubbish around the prop here, including a large mesh bag which presumably once held building materials, we passed Spon Lane Junctions, where locks lead off to the left then The Stewart Aquaduct (or maybe Steward, nobody seems sure, it seems to have got confused by aural tradition over the march of time)
At the eponymous railway bridge, we almost got run over by a train!
We passed through Oldbury, where my local Sainsburys and a church where I have been worshipping are situated.
We soon arrived amongst more bucolic surroundings with waterlilies edging the crystal clear waters.
Karen seemed to be enjoying the journey so far but when I persuaded her to try steering, that smile was replaced by a look of steely concentration, but she didn’t do badly for a first attempt.
It was hereabouts that we saw numerous coots, who build their nests on anything that will float, maybe natural, maybe old bits of polystyrene or something like that and the chicks are such cute balls of fluff, see picture at top of the page.
After a couple more sessions, Karen’s steering confidence increased.
I even abandoned her so I could use the loo at one point!!!
Dudley Port Bridge has an interesting feature, the red door was installed during WW2 for fire engines to put their hoses through and draw water from the canal.
Pitchfork Bridge conjured up images of a peasant army defending it!
Just after we reached Tipton Junction where The Black Country Living Museum can be reached… but not today!
Onwards to Tipton Green where moorings are available next to a park and a young lad and his mum were trying to retrieve something from the canal with a child’s fishing net, after we had passed mum fell in and was soaked from head to toe, she got out alright but I was much too gentlemanly to take a photo of her.
We moored just around the corner, next to the health centre, at John the Lock Moorings which our neighbour assured us were perfectly safe with CCTV and security patrols despite dire warnings of marauding gangs of crackheads from a certain person.
We visited the Fountain Inn opposite, a real old-fashioned Black Country Pub with a good selection of well-kept real ales, who welcomed us and Zoe in for a quick drink before we visited the chippy for pie, sausage and Orange battered chips, but they couldn’t match the ones from Pep’s Plaice at Compton which I rave about!
We enjoyed a quiet night once the medical centre had closed and Zoe didn’t need to alert us of people in the car cark (just staff, not addicts!)
In the morning we cooked bacon sarnies and motored up to Tipton Factory Junction to turn around and then it was just a question of retracing our journey.
Karen grew more confident, but Zoe was still nervous and hid behind my legs while her mistress was steering.
It’s strange how you notice different things on the return trip, so here’s a few more photos.
Netherton Tunnel entrance below us
