Skeleton under swingbridge

I had a surprise when opening a swing bridge on the Leeds and Liverpool in August.

Analysis of the time the photo was taken compared with neighbouring photos leads me to deduce that this was Strangford Swing Bridge 211B.

The skeleton was about the size of a dog; I suppose that is what it was. I left it undisturbed.

Water taxis make for tight squeeze in River Lock

Today marked the end of our cruise along the entire length of the Leeds and Liverpool Canal. What a great journey it has been. The wonders of Liverpool; the hard work of the Wigan Flight; the spectacular scenery of the Pennines; the myriad mills; the suddenness of Skipton; the airiness of Saltaire ... oh! I seem to be getting carried away. Leeds itself was looked forward to as the culmination of the trip, but seemed a bit of an anticlimax. Not the city's fault, I'm sure, more because it was, for us, a stop on our "rush" to get to Marsden for our Standedge booking.

The canal ends at the lock which drops from Granary Wharf onto the River Aire. As we were just about to go into this River Lock we were hailed by the operator of the water taxi service asking if they could share the lock. It's only a standard Leeds and Liverpool lock, i.e. not much more than 14 feet wide; it was a tight fit as two yellow taxis wedged themselves in. They must have been 7'6" wide.

There was no room to spare. Fortunately the lock chamber provided no surprises and we emerged unscathed.

We were now able to put our windlasses away for a while as the next locks were all mechanised. After a couple of self-service ones they had lock keepers to press the buttons from inside their control cubicles so we didn't even have to leave the boat.

As we cruised along Jan suddenly called out, "White heron!"

I took one or two photos - this was the best.

Apparently it's also known as an egret (little or large?)

After getting some of what must be the most expensive diesel on the system at 95p per litre base price at Castleford we tied up on the visitor mooring and explored the town. Apart from the bus station it all looks rather tired. A bit 1980s.

Nice mural near the navigation, though.

A day off in Leeds (hardly any rain)

We did a little exploring of Leeds today. The boat stayed put in Granary Wharf ...

... although we were tempted to move to the basin by the Royal Armouries Museum when we saw that electricity was available there.

We started by walking to the Royal Armouries Museum. As the towpath is closed for major works we had to find our way by road. The direction signs are misleading - when you get near they point to a Leeds Museum which turned out not to be the RAM, nor a museum in the conventional sense at all. It was a store of objects not on display. Anyway, we found the right place and spent not very long there, war not really being our thing.

One good thing was that we found the boat which was so helpful to us yesterday. They invited us on board for coffee - and I found out that they are Ange, Al and Ritchie on wb Walrus.

I was very glad that we'd found them; I was able to return with a bottle of wine which, I'm glad to say, they accepted.

In the afternoon we went our separate ways, Jan to the shops and I to look around by bike. We met up by chance in the art gallery but then separated again.

I saw this jumble of roofs and chimneys on a hillside ...

... while going to rephotograph the "mirror" sign.

Steve of nb Albert commented to say that he had posted about this three years ago here and confirmed that it is indeed a work of art.

This is, apparently, the Botany Bay of Leeds, where the first shipment of wool arrived from Australia.

The generosity of fellow boaters; and is it art?

I don't know what made me do it, but I asked Jan to look up what the engine hours reading was when we last filled up with diesel. We were just approaching Newlay Locks on our way to Leeds. Subtracting the figure Jan gave me from the reading currently being displayed gave the worrying result that we'd done 89 hours since Scarisbrick Marina where we filled up 16 days ago. Given that an analysis of last year's cruising stats told me that we use about 1.25 litres per hour I concluded that our 100 litre tank must be very empty indeed.

At the bottom of the locks I dipped the tank. Only about an inch of dipstick came out wet. Oops. Well, at least we hadn't run out in a hazardous situation, but I kicked myself for not checking before it got to this stage, especially as we had passed a boatyard at Rodley three miles ago.

I emptied the ten litres of emergency diesel from the jerry can into the tank and got the bike out ready to cycle back to Rodley to get some more. I'd calculated that those ten litres should be just about enough to get us to Stanley Ferry, the next diesel opportunity on our route, but it would have been touch and go.

Before I had a chance to figure out how I was going to strap the jerry can to my bike, though, I was approached by a woman from a wide beam which had come down the locks. She asked me if we were all right, as the lockie at Forge Locks had been expecting us but we hadn't turned up. When I explained the problem she immediately offered me some diesel from their boat's store. I thanked her for the offer and explained that it really wasn't a problem for me to cycle three miles to get diesel and three miles back again, but she insisted and one of the men on board hauled out a 5 gallon drum of diesel and a shaky (in that you shake the end to get it going) siphon tube. OK, that's very kind. They transferred ten litres of the red liquid into my can, thus saving me an hour or so of trying to balance a heavy, unwieldy can on my bike.

We were flabbergasted, though, when they refused to take any payment! We tried as hard as we could, but they said that we would be helping other boaters in the future, and other boaters would help them, so they weren't bothered. Thank you, all three of you, but especially the woman with the bright red hair. I don't know your names, nor even the name of your boat, but I shall look out for you.

They did say that they would be stopping in Leeds, but they were not at Granary Wharf when we got there, and the trip boat said that they had passed them heading down the Aire and Calder. Before we parted, at Forge Locks, Jan promised to donate the money to the Waterways Chaplains; the red-haired woman was very pleased at that.

Trip report: We tied up in Granary Wharf, Leeds after another mostly rainy day. As we came into Leeds I saw a strange sign on a wall, upside down and back-to-front.

I had worked out that it was something to do with the remains of a wooden icebreaker but it was only when I held a mirror to the screen that I realised what it was for. When you look at the sign's reflection in the water it makes sense.

"The remains of a wooden icebreaker lie submerged", it reads on the surface of the water. Clever. But I hadn't been quick enough to get a better shot without the weeds in the way. Is it an artwork? Is there really a submerged icebreaker there? I might have to go back tomorrow to find out.

CRT van squashes water hose: flow reduces from feeble to pathetic

We moved on from Saltaire in the rain today, stopping at Apperley Bridge to empty cassettes and fill up with water. The water point here is across the towpath, also used as an access road to CRT's maintenance depot. There is no alternative to running one's hose across this road to get the water from the tap to the boat. Well, I suppose you could partially block the outlet with your finger and direct the stream of water to the filler hole in the well deck, but this wouldn't be too practical. So hose across the road it is.

Most passers by are careful to avoid tripping up on the hose. Most walkers step over it, but there is always the odd one who will tread on it. Cyclists ride over the hose, which is fine. Now you would think that drivers of vehicles might stop in order that the hose could be moved out of the way. If the hose owner was not in sight - he or she might be emtying a loo cassette, for example - the driver, you would think, might enquire as to the whereabouts of said hose owner in order that he or she could move the hose.

What you would NOT expect is that someone pulls out the still-flowing hose from the boat's tank, moves it partly out of the way and STILL manages to drive over it, then tries to find the filler in order to stuff the hose into it again, realises he can't and calls out to try to locate the hose and boat owner.

And when you put down your half-rinsed out cassette and come out of the sanitary station to find the scene as described and see that it is a great big white CRT van which has driven over and squashed your nice, previously circular cross-section hose to a flat one you might not be best pleased.

Yes, this happened to me today. The driver didn't come out of the van; it was the passenger who admitted the driver had "nipped" the hose. The van and occupants drove off while I was expressing my feelings. I pushed the affected area of hose back to a semblance of cylindricity - it's not as good as it was - and continued watering up. This took a very long time. The flow was pretty feeble before CRT squashed it, now it was pathetic.

After twenty minutes or so a blue-shirted CRT man came up and apologised, saying that they had tried relocating the water point to the water side in the past but their heavy plant kept taking it out. He admitted that there was a problem, mentioning the trip hazard among other things. I feel an e-mail to CRT coming on ...

Before all this we descended the triple staircase of Field Locks. At 25 feet it is not quite the fall of the Bingley Three Rise (an inch short of 30 feet) but it is still impressive. The lower level of the canal looks a long way down from the top. There are cunning connections from the lock chambers to the bywash running alongside. These ensure that you cannot "overfill" the lock, although I haven't worked out how the oval connection on the right operates as the culvert goes uphill before descending again to the bywash. (That's the cross-section of my hose now!)

The other connection to the bywash isn't so obvious; it's the flat opening just below the top of the chamber on the left.

We tied up for the evening at Rodley; we'll get to Leeds tomorrow.

I do believe it has stopped raining at last.

Saltaire, Hockney and a cable tramway

We devoted almost the whole day to Saltaire, starting at Sir Titus Salt's mill, now devoid of the industry which was its raison d'etre but still with plenty of echoes of the past. Salt's Mill now houses an extensive David Hockney exhibition among other things.

I like being able to tell what a painting is of, so I preferred Hockney's art to that of Jackson Pollock, which we saw in the Tate in Liverpool a few days ago. And, yes, we were allowed to take photos.

We got a walking guide leaflet from the tourist information office and walked round and admired Salt's model village (town?). We looked round the URC Church containing Salt's mausoleum, and got a sneaky look in Victoria Hall opposite, which was prepared for a wedding reception just about to take place.

Jan went back to the boat for a cup of tea leaving David, Penny and I to investigate Shipley Glen and its Victorian cable tramway.

Penny, Halfie, David.  No, I am not steering

Soon after getting back cousin Jane arrived for a visit. As there were two convenient winding holes in front of and behind our mooring we took her for a mini cruise. This included passing between Salt's Mill and Salt's New Mill and took in a lock (twice) and a swing bridge. And all before tea. Jane enjoyed her outing and we enjoyed having her on board.

Jane being tutored by David in the art of paddle winding

Three staircase locks in the rain

We knew it would be wet. It was. But we still moved on, waterproofed as much as possible. Yesterday we had a clear view of the hills; now the cloud was down.

Nearly every bridge today was a swing bridge. Fortunately David was on hand to operate them. There was a slight delay at the top of the Bingley Five Rise locks while we waited for Basil to water up; then it was our turn at the water point. Calypso waited in the top lock for us. The passage down was reasonably smooth - just one very leaky gate which caused a very small flood in the engine room.

We emerged from the bottom lock to a small gaggle of gongoozlers, many with cameras. What would it have been like had it been warm and sunny?

Next came Bingley Three Rise and Dowley Gap double. The prize for the leakiest gates/paddles must go to Hirst Lock. There was so much water coming in from the top gates/paddles that it was impossible to empty the lock fully, especially as one bottom gate paddle didn't work.

David managed to push the gate open and I managed not to flood the boat so we got out unscathed. We tied up just past the Saltsports clubhouse and bar in Saltaire. After tea and a short walk round the town Jan and I went to the aforementioned bar where I had a good almost-pint of a black ale while watching a game of snooker.

Jan says the forecast is for a fine day tomorrow. Let's hope so. Did I mention that it rained all day?

Grange Swing Bridge 188 the hardest to operate?

This morning we went to the very end of the Springs Branch, with Skipton Castle towering 100 feet above us.

Few boats other than the trip boats from Pennine Cruisers venture up here as boats longer than about 35 feet have to reverse all the way - 1/4 mile - back to the junction with the main line in order to get out. We did it, though, to approval from the Pennine Cruisers man, who told us that he thought the encroaching vegetation would be cut back soon. Reversing was made relatively easy with David at the bow with a cabin shaft.

Having reached the main line we continued to Kildwick where we stopped for lunch. There is a fine aqueduct over a road. It's more that the road tunnels under the canal at an oblique angle. There was a wedding about to take place in the church; as we walked up the road under the canal we saw the bridal party leaving a house to be transported by an old Rolls Royce.

David cycled off to Colne from Kildwick in order to get a train to Adlington where he'd left his car. We carried on to Silsden but we could have done with David as crew. There are loads of swing bridges on this stretch; I got off to open Grange Swing Bridge 188 but very nearly couldn't manage it as it was so difficult to move. By rocking it I eventually persuaded it to open in degrees (literally) but it was a slow, back-breaking (not literally, I hope!) process. I'm not exactly a heavyweight but there must be many boaters with less muscle power than me. I don't know how they cope if no other boats come along to help.

Having tied up about a mile past Silsden - about the first place deep enough not on a bend - we walked round the town. After 100 years of individuals spinning cotton in their cottages the industrial revolution happened. Silsden became a centre of nail making; here's a sculpture in homage.

I wonder what the townspeople make of the implication that Silsden produced wonky nails.

The rain started at about 8 pm. It's forecast to continue all night and into the morning, but I can't hear it now. We'll see.

Skipping along to Skipton

Oh, all right, cruising along to Skipton. We enjoyed glorious weather today, starting with the morning sun burning off the mist from the canal at Gargrave.

We passed through more rural idylls ...

... and passed by more lovely old buildings (ignore the graffiti).

In Skipton we secured a 24 hour mooring just on the Springs Branch, had lunch and explored the town. It was quite a shock suddenly to be surrounded by hordes of people, many of them tourists. The two Pennine Cruisers trip boats were doing a roaring trade and it seemed that everyone was in a good mood.

We bumped into Martin and Margaret from Erin Mae and met their Norwegian grandchildren.

The Busy Lizzies chippy had been recommended, so we got takeaways and sat on a bench overlooking the junction. I'm sorry to say that I'm not really a fish-and-chip person. It was hot and there were no bones but, in my experience, chippy chips are invariably flabby, not crisp, and this fish was fairly tasteless. To help it go down we walked up past the High Corn Mill and past the old sawmill to the woodland walk and the mill pond at the top (yes, it was calm). Then down to the footbridges over Ella Beck at the foot of the castle.

To round off the day David and I walked to an area away from streetlights and trees (the car park for the Catholic Church!), lay on the ground and stared at the sky hoping to see meteors. David claimed four or five; I spotted only one. I don't think I'll have any trouble getting off to sleep tonight.

Foulridge Tunnel|: what makes the lights change?

We went to St. Luke's church in Brierfield for the 0915 service. There was a robed choir and a congregation of about 50 for the communion service. Unfortunately I have no idea what message the sermon was supposed to give.

When we got back to the boat we set off straight away as we had a luncheon appointment with Ben's parents. They were to join us at the bottom of Barrowford Locks for lunch on board before coming up the locks with us. At one of the locks John (Ben's dad) got a soaking. He was sitting in the well deck taking photographs when a jet of water suddenly issued from the side of the lock. It hadn't been there when we entered the empty lock, nor when the lock started filling.

We had already been cruising through some spectacular scenery, with the hills getting closer. The locks are in a lovely setting by a reservoir (from which I took this photo).

We shared the locks with a Shire Cruisers boat. The steerer had been hiring for 30 years but still hadn't quite got the hang of it. We were pleased to pass them early in the day when they ran into trees and came to a very sudden stop. At the top of Barrowford Locks we stopped for Elsan and water while they continued; when we got to Foulridge Tunnel they were there, waiting at the red traffic lights above the tunnel entrance. They had stopped well short of the tunnel mouth; I wondered whether a sensor simply hadn't detected their presence and so hadn't switched the lights to green. There was nothing in the tunnel. When I suggested that I move to the bollards nearest the portal the hirers said they would move up, and so they did. Only a couple of minutes after they had done so the lights turned green and off they went. We followed, but were doing tickover the whole way through.

The hire boat was taking the long route, zig-zagging from side to side. It was quite painful to watch!

At the moorings just after exiting the tunnel they rammed the concrete edge as they picked up a passenger. This was my chance and I took it. I overtook. Phew! From our conversations with them doing the locks we knew that they were stopping at the marina at Barnoldswick; we stopped nearer the town.

As we walked into the town later in the evening we witnessed a superbly red sky.

Shepherds must be delighted!

Burnley Embankment

The Burnley Embankment is one of the so-called seven wonders of the waterways. My photo doesn't do it justice; the one I took from below doesn't really show the scale of the thing either.

We had cruised in summery weather from Rishton, stopping at the Rose Grove services to empty the water tank and refill with what we hope is uncontaminated water. It took ages to empty; the tank must be bigger than I thought. Fortunately it took only half-an-hour to fill, so we were on our way again.

As we entered Burnley we saw plenty of old mills, far more than in Blackburn.

We stopped at the canalside museum in the Weavers' Triangle, which was open and very good. I don't remember having seen a bale of cotton before.

Round the corner was the famous Burnley Embankment. We stopped at the mooring rings for a quick look from below - and a check down the weed hatch - before continuing. The impressive thing about the embankment is that it is so high above the ground both sides.

We tied up for the night in Brierfield, between bridges 135 and 136.

Blackburn: the natives are friendly

I rarely take any notice of the doom mongers who advise that one should not stop in certain places on the waterways. "Go straight through Blackburn and Burnley without stopping", they say.

Well, when we got to the top of Blackburn Locks, we tied up while we had lunch. It was quiet. David walked under the bridge and found a large Asda with mooring rings, but we were on rings where we were so we stayed put.

After lunch we walked into the city centre and looked round the cathedral and museum. The cathedral is modern-looking and undergoing building work. The museum is excellent, with a fine collection of items from the weaving industry from spinning wheels to Hargreaves's Spinning Jenny to Compton's Mule and later weaving machines. I could have spent a few hours there but we wanted to get to Rishton for the evening.

When we got back to the boat it was perfectly fine, of course, and we struggled through the thick masses of weed to Rishton.

We hadn't gone far when we were hailed from the offside bank by some youths. Hello - is this trouble? No, they only wanted us to fish out a football from the canal for them. A quick blast of reverse and a poke around with a boat pole and I had the ball, which I threw across to the lads. They were grateful and gave thumbs-up signs and disappeared through a fence, presumably to kick the ball around. I might be wrong, but I don't think the ball had only just gone into the cut. It had the dirty feel of a football which had been afloat for several days.

Back to today's cruising. We set off in strong sunshine from Riley Green not much after 0900 and enjoyed fabulous warm sunny weather all day. This feels more like it! The weed I mentioned kept collecting round the bow; I kept pushing it off as we were going along with a long piece of wood. The design of the boat, with the base plate protruding forward, means that floating weed gets trapped and accumulates. This has a huge impact on speed.

Half-way up the Blackburn locks is this metal sculpture of a cyclist who looks even thinner than me.

The view of Blackburn from the embankment is impressive.

David and I cycled to the Rishton Arms near Rishton Station to see if they did food. Two friendly young ladies outside told us that the pub didn't do food and proceeded to tell us about places which did, and where they were. We thanked them and then cycled back to the boat, where Penny had prepared a delicious curry. (This could have kept if we'd found an unmissable eatery.)

You will recall that I published a photo yesterday of a newspaper headline: "CHORLEY WATER LEAK NIGHTMARE". Now it appears that water may indeed be a nightmare for some. United Utilities published a warning yesterday (Thursday) that people should boil water to combat an outbreak (infestation?) of cryptosporidium. Chorley is in the centre of the affected region. Three of our party drank tap water at the café where we had lunch; we filled up our water tank at Botany Bay, Chorley. Today we topped up at Blackburn Locks. At neither water point was there a CRT warning notice that the water might be contaminated, despite residents being told in leaflet drops and local radio. Now this doesn't particularly worry me - I drank a glass of water this lunchtime knowing about the alert - but I think I'll e-mail CRT to ask if they intend doing anything.

Johnson's Hillocks

Today started with rain, just as we got going at 1000. David and I were measuring up a for a little project, more on which later.

At Chorley we stopped for a look round the town and to get one or two Chorley cakes. We ended up having lunch in a café in the main pedestrianised area. Our route back to the boat took us past this newspaper headline.

(One for that blog listed on Sarah's sidebar, perhaps.)

The Johnson's Hill(ock) Locks were a delight. The sun had come out, the scenery was stunning and there were no irritating handcuff locks to undo.

I got myself at the bow to take this one.

We paused at Withnell Fold to look at the interesting village square; then tied up for the night at Riley Green.

Blackburn tomorrow.

Up the Wigan 21

Wednesday 5th August 2015

We were up early to get the Wigan locks done before the rain; we set off at about 0745. Henshaw Lock was very slow to fill, so it was getting on for 0830 by the time we started on the Wigan 21.

At the bottom lock we could see that another boat was going our way, just one lock ahead. Their crew saw us and immediately came down to tell us that they would wait so that we could go up the flight together.

The boat we paired with was Chyandour (the other one) with Fred and Lisa. Their friends Rob and Susie from Swamp Frogs, who had gone up the locks a day or two before, had come back to help them; this meant that there were now four of us available to wind paddles and push balance beams.

Not that all the balance beams had to be pushed. Some had a windlass arrangement for closing the gates.

One lock had a weight running down the side of the lock to assist with opening a bottom gate.

I spent nearly the entire time helping a narrowboat in front, Merry Dancer. Most of the locks were against us and they had a slowish approach to locking. Had I not been there our ascent of the flight would have been even slower than it was. We got to the top at about 1300.

It was great to meet Fred, Lisa, Rob and Susie, all of whom joined us for a little drink after lunch.

We cruised on to Adlington, mooring behind Chyandour and Swamp Frogs and waiting for David and Penny to join us after driving up from London. They arrived at 1830 and were surprised to find that it wasn't hot and sunny up north. I think Penny can put away her sun cream!

Two wooden houses: one by the canal, the other in it

On our journey from Burscough Bridge to Wigan today we passed two interesting "house" constructions. The first was in a field and looks like a reconstruction of the framework of a mediaeval (or earlier?) dwelling.

The second was on the approach to Wigan from the west. This looks like a duck house.

As we approached Dean Lock we could see that there was a boat coming down. This turned out to be Eleventh Heaven with Chris and Les on their way to Liverpool; we exchanged hearty greetings. Good to see you again.

This evening we were supposed to be joined by Jim of Starcross fame. Unfortunately, at the last minute, he was unable to come so we'll be tackling the Wigan 21 without his help. I think a reasonably early start is called for to beat the forecast rain.

We won't be on our own for long, though, as brother David and his wife Penny are driving up from London to stay on board for a while.

Buzz on sound

No rain that I can remember today, and even some sunshine, but a strongish breeze kept things cool outside. We cruised from Maghull to Burscough Bridge with a long delay for diesel at Scarisbrick Marina.

Long delay? Yes, there was only one person manning the office and looking after servicing. Still, we filled up with water and did a washing machine load while we were waiting.

After this I cycled to Southport to pick up a package I'd had delivered to Wolverton (complicated story); then we moved on to just past Crabtree Lane Swing Bridge.

Just before getting the diesel we tied up by the marina and had lunch. As I was untying to head for the service bay a widebeam came out of the marina and turned right to come our way. At the same time a narrowboat came along and overtook the widebeam right next to Jubilee. The widebeam must have waved the narrowboat past as there were smiles, not frowns, as the two boats steamed dieseled motored past.

The package I made a ten mile round trip for was a 12V "hi-fi" amplifier module (£2.99 from China via Amazon) which I want to power some loudspeakers from the DAB radio.

Unfortunately when I connected it all up there was a horrible buzz on the audio, probably from the inverter but possibly also from the LED lights in the cabin.

I must now find a way to suppress this interference which I suspect is coming up the 12V connection (unscreened and running the full length of the boat). I'll try a small capacitor across the power supply first. I have dozens of such things in a drawer at home; here I might have to buy one. Is there a Maplin in Wigan? I might find out tomorrow.

Taxi driver jumps red light and nearly takes out swing bridge bridge barrier

Maghull Hall Swing Bridge 12 on the Leeds and Liverpool. We had left our fabulous mooring in Salthouse Dock at 0750 this morning and had had a smooth passage out of Liverpool. Now there was just this swing bridge to do before we tied up in Maghull.

As is our usual practice Jan steers while I operate the bridge. I waited until there was no traffic in sight before turning the key and pressing the button to instigate the sequence of flashing red lights ... barriers down ... wedges withdraw ... bridge swing. All went according to plan until the barriers started to descend. With the warning siren going and the red lights flashing a car - a taxi - suddenly drove fast onto the bridge and headed for the far barrier, now at about 45 degrees. I paused a microsecond before releasing the "open" button, thus stopping the barriers' descent. With millimetres to spare the taxi dodged underneath and drove off. I was so taken aback I didn't think to note the registration, let alone which taxi firm it was.

Had I not let go of the button the taxi would have crashed through the dangly part of the barrier. In that microsecond I was tempted to keep the barrier coming down and thus damage the car. But it would have also damaged the CRT property and could well have put the bridge out of action. I thought better of it, then, and the idiot taxi driver got away with it.

Apart from Jan on the boat and me working the bridge there were at least three people who witnessed the lunacy at close quarters: two men cyclists and a woman walking a dog. There were other - more patient - drivers who would have seen what happened too.

Did I say patient? Well, not the driver who made sure he was first over the bridge the instant the barriers went up after Jan had steered Jubilee through. He accelerated across, mobile phone to his ear, and disappeared in the same direction as the taxi. (Have I just been in an action scene in a film?)

After all that excitement it might be easy to forget that the day started with our exit from Liverpool's dockland. It was raining as we left the mooring, but not heavily; the rain stopped shortly afterwards. Before leaving I set up my timelapse camera to record, I hope, the entire Leeds and Liverpool Canal. (Unfortunately the camera didn't capture the close shave described above as it all happened in the interval between images.)

I realise I have neglected to get a photo of the swing bridge in question, so here's a night-time shot of Jubilee in Salthouse Dock.

Doesn't that wheel spin quickly!

I took the best photos of the Liverpool Canal Link on our way in four days ago; this is where we hung around waiting for Mann Island Lock.

We must get some diesel soon. I dipped the tank this evening and found just three inches of fuel left. I think Ambush is the fuel boat; we saw it at Crooke, I think, on the way down.

Arriving in Liverpool (2)

What lay beyond the bridge hole I left you with in the last post? This did.

The first stretch of open water with the gigantic brick Tobacco Warehouse on the left. The instructions were easy: continue under the bascule bridge directly ahead.

This brought us to another dock. At the Victoria Clock Tower we were to turn left.

I was hoping it would be obvious which was the way to go; the water was a bit complicated.

I was looking out for "Sid's Ditch" and was glad to spot a new-looking channel.

I think Sid was one of the workers involved in this part of the Liverpool Canal Link.

Sid's Ditch took us to a twisty hard-edged channel ...

... followed by another dock. Keep the buoys on the right, the CRT man said.

Ahead was the biggest boat we were likely to encounter in all our cruising. We were very close to the cruise ship terminal.

Then the sights came thick and fast. The Royal Liver Building (keep the buoys to the left) ...

... was followed by the Museum of Liverpool and a tunnel.

I had forgotten that there were a couple of tunnels to negotiate. There wasn't a huge amount of headroom; and this one had a bend in it immediately after entering. This was tricky as we had just come out of bright sunlight reflected from lots of white surfaces. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but we didn't hit anything.

Liverpool is full of interesting buildings, almost too many to take in at once. We six boats in the first convoy gathered again as we waited to go through the lock (there are two; I have left out the first one).

This lock took us into more docks ...

... past an old lightship and the Museum of Liverpool again ...

... then, with a sharp left turn, we were in Albert Dock passing the Tate gallery.

Just one more bridge to go ...

and we had arrived in Salthouse Dock. I found the pontoon using binoculars as we approached, reversed in, tied up ... and thought "Wow!"

And "Phew!" Half-past-two. From Hancock's Swing Bridge it had taken five and a half hours. We had been blessed with excellent weather and had a great passage into this fine place.

Did I mention that we had picked up our friend Jane in the morning so she could enjoy the trip too? We walked into the Liverpool One shopping area, didn't do much in the way of shopping, and collected our train tickets - all 36 of them - for our trip to Cornwall on Thursday. But that's another story.