We’d intended having a meal at The Blue Bell Cider House last night, but as we entered we realised a birthday party was in full swing in all parts, complete with thumping music, so we beat a hasty retreat. The thumping continued until midnight and there were fireworks, which unfortunately we couldn’t actually see for trees in the way. Was this why the moorings were deserted?
We set off at 10, stopping briefly at Hockley Heath to get a Sunday Times, from a One Stop so small that two people could not actually pass in the aisles.
On the way back to the Lapworth locks are two lift bridges, both operated with a lock windlass. The first is no problem. When we arrived, another boat was already waiting and its crew had lifted the bridge. The helmsman signalled us to follow him through and as we passed his wife we said thank you, we’ll do the next one. Then I remembered. The second bridge is a pig - its operation is hydraulically “assisted” (a euphemism for b****y hard work). You wind for ages and nothing seems to happen. Then you keep winding for more ages and the bridge lifts verrrrry slooooowly. By the time it is raised you are a shivering wreck. Winding down is no better. The other boat’s crew thanked me as they sailed through and said cheerily “Are you going straight down the locks?” “Might do” I gasped, “if I can still breathe”. There was a chuckle. Had we been set up?
The prospect of bacon butties won the day so we stopped for brunch and hoped that a boat would come up the locks to leave them in our favour. In 1 1/2 hours there was nothing. It was the first weekend of the school holidays, the weather was cooler – we couldn’t believe it. Neither could the volunteer lock keeper, who told us that this was normally the busiest Sunday of the year for hire boats, but he’d seen only two.
The lockie was exceptionally helpful, operating the the first two locks himself so that I could go ahead and set the next two. He was originally from Massachusetts and used to operate a hotel boat with his wife. He told us that her method of dealing with the lift bridges was to take one of the male guests with her and operate the easy one herself. The guest, not to be outdone by a mere woman, would then volunteer to operate “the pig”, and male pride would prevail over breathless exertion. Neat.
Descending the first 14 locks of the Lapworth flight proved much easier than the ascent on Wednesday in blistering heat, and by 3.45 we’d arrived at the moorings ready to stop for the day.
You may think you’ve seen this before….spot the difference!
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