Weedy

Tuesday 14^th July; Coseley Tunnel to Compton

The rain had gone by the time we woke up, but there was no sun.  If it wasn’t for coronavirus I would have gone up to the local shops above the tunnel to get some snacks for the descent of the Wolverhampton flight.  But now we are only shopping when we actually need to, I didn’t.  A tug went by well before 8, destination unknown, and we didn’t want to risk being behind the three boats moored a few hundred yards back, so we were away by 8.

 The steps up to the shops are steep and there are lots of them, though not exactly at the angle that the picture implies.  It has the handy result of rendering the towpath much less busy than it could be.

As we wound our way through the outskirts of Wolverhampton we kept our eyes on the weed growth.  It’s very thick in places.   

 

Thick enough to stand on

We saw the odd shoal of roach and rudd, and a major splash – a hunting pike?  Although there are lots of trees along part of the route, I don’t think we would want to stop here overnight.

Housing is going up in place of some of the old industry and dereliction.  As at Stoke Prior, their outlook onto industrial units is not pretty.  This developer’s name seems rather out of place.  Especially with the Keep Out message.

At one point we had to stop for yet another trip down the weed hatch, where, as Dave extracted the blockage (mostly weed but enough plastic to cause a problem), a great diving beetle suddenly shot out into the clear water as he pulled!  I bet it was rather dizzy.  I didn’t see anything –there’s nowhere to get mooring pins in along here so I was fully occupied holding the centre rope.

We passed under the Broad Street railway tunnel, and reversed into the basin for the Elsan and bins.  We were as quick as we could be, and as we left again who should come round the bend but the three boats!  We didn’t know they were there, and they didn't respond when we honked the horn, so we didn’t feel too guilty.  As we pulled as close to the lock as we could (of course it needed filling) they squeezed onto the lock mooring, completely filling it as a fourth boat appeared, completely at as loss for where to go.  The owner of the lead boat came to help us down the lock – the three were all single-handing and would help each other down, and we think they let the fourth boat go ahead.  But we were on our way by then.  We started off raising a top paddle for whoever was behind, but after a while we had to stop as we couldn’t see them and someone might have been coming up.  We were quickly into our normal routine.

We were delighted to see a couple of blue shirts and red lifejackets on their way up – but they had just been doing their Covid training and were only allowed to do litter-picking on their first day back!  A pity, there had been about a dozen all together!

We ate lunch on the go (a ham sandwich with the last of the sourdough loaf we bought at King’s Norton.  It should have been toasted.  ‘Artisan’ sourdough is so often rather tough and chewy we find.)  Past the railway bridge is a row of cottages which once all had Torbay palms in their front gardens; about 20 years ago, when we had our share boat Padworth, we met the old guy who had brought all the plants back from his holidays.  But he and his wife are long gone now, and this is all that remains – all because of the perceived need for front garden parking.

The locks spread out more as you pass the racecourse, except for the last two, so locking ahead becomes a tad impractical.  At long last we were in the final lock.  Today’s work seemed harder than usual down this flight.

And down onto the Staffs and Worcester at last.

Bye bye Wolverhampton

On with the kettle and a relaxing cruise (with cake) to the 5-day mooring above the lock at Compton – a bit overgrown but nothing a few snips with the shears couldn’t sort out. 

 

21 locks, 8 ½ miles, Coseley tunnel, and a lot of weed