A canal holiday is like going for a drive in a slow cabriolet with the roof permanently down. But speed isn't why you sign up for a few days on a narrowboat. My husband Tony and I were hoping for relaxation, beautiful scenery and something a bit different. We turned up at Chirk Marina, near Wrexham, north Wales, where engineer Pauline Stokes showed us around Petula, our Black Prince narrowboat. It had all mod cons, including a TV, shower, a proper flush toilet and toasty warm central heating. Pauline's navigating instructions did not seem too complicated—tiller left,
boat right. But as we set off with pilots Nigel Harrison and Vie Dunn for a quick lesson, it became clear this boat business is not as easy as it looks. We blundered along the Langollen canal, forcing other craft to take evasive action. "The idea is not to hit the side at all," said Vic, wincing as we scraped the barge 191ft along the wall of the Whitehouses tunnel. After they hopped off we meandered along fairly happily and soon reached the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, one of two on this canal. Built by engineer Thomas Telford and opened in 1805, its stone arches tower across the valley, with a towpath and barrier on one side and...er, nothing on the other. The only thing that stops the boat toppling over the 120ft drop is a tiny steel lip, rising about a foot from the water. Vertigo sufferers need not apply but it does give an eerie feeling of flying across the gap. ____________________________ I loved…
Sailing over the two aqueducts. It's
Ike flying over the valleys—a feeling you don't get from the towpath I hated...
Steering. Not my strong point. It only takes a moment's inattention to put yourself on a collision course. | Most of the boats had a crew of four or more. With just two of us, while one steered, the other had to be on constant alert, jumping off and running up the towpath to check for oncoming boats on narrow sections, checking the map for the next point of interest or making sure the skipper didn't nod off. But we did come up with four other ways to pass the time:
1 Barge surfing. Stand on top of boat and duck as you pass under hanging branches or bridges. Not as dangerous as it sounds. You'd have to have the the reaction times of an aged tortoise to bang your head.
2 Extreme duck feeding. Waterfowl are the only things slower in water than a narrowboat. You can amuse yourself for several minutes watching them swooping down like the Dambusters, skimming along the surface and diving for the bread.
3 Out-sailing passers-by. If they are elderly, you're in with a chance. Otherwise, forget it. We only outpaced a teenage mum with a buggy when her wee boy decided he wanted a toddle along the towpath.
4 Ramming. Not recommended. We accidentally sailed full-steam into a houseboat on a narrow bend and got an earful from the owner— well, we had almost holed his home. Worse, a canal cruise full of tourists with video cameras happened to be passing. Expect to see footage on You've Been Framed. You can always stop the boat, get off and go to the pub. Thing is, you can't really go much faster. If you do it creates a wash that erodes the banks—and you can be done for speeding. At one point I decided the reason other boats kept passing us was they were breaking the speed limit. To even things up a little, I pushed the throttle forward as far as it would go, just for a minute. Not a good idea. The waves were so big there were ducks auditioning for Hawaii Five-0 in our wake. | In hindsight it was probably just that other boats were steering a straighter course than us. Every time I took the tiller Tony starting singing Pinball Wizard, as we careered from bank to bank. Sixty-two foot of steel hull does not exactly turn on a penny and it's hard to get back on course if you go wrong. Luckily. Black Prince insures you against any damage, unless you ignore warning lines in a lock and completely wreck the boat. There are locks on the southern part of the canal. But the Chirk to Llangollen section rises gently uphill all the way without a single lock, an amazing feat of engineering by Telford. Elsewhere on the canal, there are lots of pubs for you to tie up beside but most of them are a short walk away. Only one that we saw, the Lion Quays Waterside Bar and Restaurant, had tables right next to the water. Fortified by a pint of bitter and a large glass of red wine, we decided not to bother going on to the next winding hole (turning point) but to turn in the wide quay area. This was a mistake. Within minutes we were wedged tight, one end on the bank and the other stuck on the quay, blocking off the whole canal. A crowd gathered to watch our discomfort. Then, our saviour appeared, a well-spoken middle-aged man. "Can I be of assistance?" he asked. "Yes! Help us." I cried, leaping off and practically grabbing him by the lapels. He pushed us sideways off the quay, which gave us enough room for manoeuvre, then showed us how to use the current and wind direction to help turn. Although he did confuse us a bit with terms such as "bow" and "stem". Not a word was said when we returned the battered boat. Well, I'm sure they've seen worse. Haven't they? ____________________ •For more details call 01527 575115 or check out www.black-prince.com. |
