374. Tackling a tidal river on my tiny narrowboat (River Trent: Lincoln to Newark via Torksey)

Back in April, I began the slow process of moving my recently-purchased narrowboat from Burton Waters marina near Lincoln, down to the East Midlands. This video is Step 1 of that journey, from BW to Newark-upon-Trent. I grumble a lot in this video. Do not watch if you are prone to grumbling about me grumbling.

Start point: https://maps.app.goo.gl/nJTDWhoSvZg2yRgA6
Torksey pontoon mooring: https://maps.app.goo.gl/TMuYry2f6Xddf6Yi9
End point: https://maps.app.goo.gl/RzRZzyHmBFD5ZKpt9

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#narrowboat #canal #cruisingthecut #rivers #offgrid #liveaboard

Hello once more and welcome
aboard narrowboat Gentian, where at the time of filming it is mid April and the time has come to move the boat from
here down towards the Midlands. A process that is going to take
a remarkably long time. Because I can only get to the boat at weekends
– and not every subsequent weekend – it’s going to take about three months in total. Today is the first step. We’ve had glorious sunshine for
the last three weeks. Today is glorious too. Tomorrow, when I do the main section, it’s
all set to turn, apparently cloudy. Not hopefully horrible but just
not as nice as today. Nonetheless, today’s stage is quite simple: From the marina up to Torksey, lock out, wait on the pontoons below the lock
until the first thing tomorrow morning, because the river there is tidal, and then go with the tide in the morning,
hopefully as far as Newark. (Sound of alarm and engine starting) The engine fired into life and I headed gently off
the pontoon and away from Burton Waters Marina. The rev counter, which had been working
last time, now reverted to wayward form, showing an entirely unlikely 2,400 RPM. I guess the dodgy wire must have come loose again. (Engine sound) A seemingly lone swan passed by. (If you listen really carefully, you can hear
the ripples from the swan’s movement) (Don’t be daft, I just made that up) Ahead, the pipe bridge, which last time
I said was rather elaborate because of all the metalwork around it, was now fully enclosed by covers,
the metalwork having been scaffolding, and the sign on the bank explaining
what was going on. (It doesn’t really explain anything,
does it?) It turns out the lone swan wasn’t lone at all, he’d clearly just had a row with his partner
and needed some space because here was said partner. It’s good for couples to have time
to themselves occasionally. Under the pipe bridge, an unusual work
boat being marked as “Electric” Unless that’s just its name,
as some sort of joke at modernity. Oh hey look, now the rev counter’s showing 1,600
RPM, despite me barely changing the speed. It was mid-April and spring had sprung. But goodness me, what’s this ahead? A giant swan? No, looks like a sunken boat. I ensured I was over to the right to avoid
any part of it catching my hull. That is such a sad sight. And no, that’s not my other boat Twiggy, the restoration of which is still underway. And I’m hoping it doesn’t end up
like that once I test float it. Before long I was coming through the
village of Saxilby again. And there was more evidence of Spring. How did I not show you this last
time I came along here? A control tower in someone’s garden! I don’t know what they’re controlling,
but I want one… It was a beautiful day. 2.5 hours after I set out,
I arrived at Torksey the visitor moorings a little busier than last time. Ahead was the lock, out from the
canal onto the river Trent. You have to book passage with the lock keeper
2 days in advance, which I had done, so I paused on the lock landing. Well I’ve had a chat with the lock keeper.
He says he’s got one boat coming up I’m to wait for the green light, take myself in
and then I will moor on the moorings below. After another boat came through
the other way, I was in, and the locky eased me through
with no problems. Down I went, the boat kept
under control by a rope thrown around a bollard on the lockside You’ll be aware of the daily “UK Tea Alarm”; Here’s a selection of the Lockie’s
teapots stored on the gates. And immediately below the lock are
overnight mooring pontoons where I would pause, ready to take
the morning tide upriver the next day. In front of me, a colossal Dutch barge
and behind, a narrowboat, all crewed by lovely people who said hello. It is just the most gorgeous day! Having moored up successfully and pleasantly
on these pontoon moorings. I’m now going to have tea,
cheese sandwich, all the usual stuff, chill for the afternoon, just have a quick look through the guides
to going up the Trent again, sleep tonight and then set off at …
aiming for 8.30 but maybe 8:45, that sort of time, to coincide with the tide. But after lunch there were Useful Tasks
I could be getting on with. I have bought a load of these G4
LED light replacements so while I am parked up this afternoon I figure I will swap all these bulbs
for these ones and have much lower power
draw on the battery. (Quiet but speeded-up sounds of
a man changing a lightbulb. With knives) No it doesn’t matter me touching them,
they’re LED That’s all the lights done and they work fine,
each one now drawing 1W instead of 10W a significant power saving. And it’s an afternoon of little DIY jobs
because I’ve just screwed that screw back in, that holds the
bit of wood that holds the barge pole. It was, for some reason, out
and lying on the metal. It’s just triumph after triumph this afternoon. As you can see I have attached
the tunnel light which is on and yes that is a very temporary connection there. I forgot to bring my heat shrink stuff
but at least we’ve proved it’s on. I’ve turned it round and pointed it upwards and I did do it by cutting part of this off
and it’s all worked splendidly. Good morning.
It’s about 8:30, Sunday morning. The sun is coming out, which is nice. And in a few moments, I’m going
to don my life jacket and set off up the River Trent
from here, Torksey, to, initially, Cromwell lock and then
onwards from there to Newark. Cromwell lock is significant because
that’s the point where the river stops being tidal and goes back
to being a normal river. Because of the tidal nature here, it’s all coming in off the
Humber estuary, I suppose, I should get a small boost going up
because the tide is coming in and although it’s a long way away and you don’t get much sense
of the tide here apparently, you do get a small boost as you go up which is why I’ve picked this time
of the morning to go. Should get about 2 hours push
and then from that point onwards, you’re just pushing against
the river as normal. It’s 16 miles to Cromwell lock So even at 4mph, that’s four hours and depending on how much
water is coming down the other way – because I’m going upriver – It could take 5 hours But then you do get the little boost for the
first couple of hours as the water comes in So I don’t really know. People have said
anything between 3 and 5 hours but with my little boat… it’s only got a little engine but then
it’s only a little lightweight boat We’ll have to just see how it goes. And then once I get through Cromwell lock, Passage through which I have booked,
you have to let them know you’re coming, then it’s onwards to Newark
where there are 2 locks which are self-operated, They’re hydraulic and you just put
a key in and press buttons But I have to press the buttons
for them I think and I’ve booked the boat into a marina. Anyway enough waffling. Let’s set off! No, actually there is something
else I ought to mention which is that I’m slightly anxious about
doing this not only because it’s a river, and they’re wide and deep and
there’s more water there than the canals and it’s tidal, obviously, But also I’ve looked at the charts,
I’ve got 3 different charts for this, and you’ve never seen
so many potential hazards! You’ve got sandbanks,
you’ve got hidden islands, There’s a water skiing zone, although
I’m told there shouldn’t be any water skiing. There used to be gravel barges,
I believe they have stopped running. But it’s like someone did a
video game of narrowboating and threw in every possible
hazard coming towards you you could possibly think of! There’s lots of soil in the water and stuff so you have to take corners on the
wrong side otherwise you’ll get grounded It’s so much to think about! Two boats coming down the other way
yesterday got grounded because they tried to cut the corners So you have to do everything wrong
and take all the corners wide. Calm down!
Let’s have a Zen moment and set off Carefully, I edged my way out
from behind the barge and went along the inlet leading from
the lock to the River Trent To the right was downstream and,
eventually, the Humber estuary. To the left, upstream and my
destination for today of Newark. I’ll do the first couple of corners at 64 times
speed to give you the gist of the river. It was largely going to be like this all the way:
big sweeping right and left hand bends. The crucial thing the guidebooks
want you to remember is that all the inside corners of the curves
are very silted up and shallow, so you take them wide even if that means travelling on the
wrong side of the river for a bit. Here I’m on the correct side, the right,
and avoiding silt on that corner. And so far all was well. But another type of hazard was just ahead… It’s not terribly obvious until you get closer, but in the middle of the river ahead is
a tiny island just where that pylon is. Here’s a better view and you can also just make
out an obstruction in the water on the right so the guidebook is emphatic: Go left. You don’t want to hit that or end
up stuck in the shallows. By the way, this is what the
guidebook looks like. Detailed pages with the optimum line
to take marked in red plus detailed notes of the tricky sections. There’s the island as I go past it. And up ahead, just a vast and
chilly expanse of river. There’s not a lot to see on the banks but the
guidebook does mention every last one so you have reference points of where you are,
such as this holiday caravan park. (Engine sound and a
bit of birdsong) I kept the radio just inside until
I needed it, along with snacks and yes, those are cheese rolls. An obvious landmark on this corner
is Laneham Boat and Ski Club with luckily no water skiing taking place today but a very clear slipway and moorings. The weather was not helping my filming with everything in a black and white
silhouette of noir terror. (Silent shrieks of terror) Notice here how I’m doing as the book said and travelling far over to the wrong side,
ie the left, so as to avoid the shallow mud bank
which has built up on the right hand corner. I’m sure I vaguely recall doing something
about this in geography lessons at school. (Brain exploding with poor recall of geography) As a teenage swan crossed my path, I could
see the Dunham toll bridge ahead. This is another section that has a
clear warning in the book as there’s a substantial build-up of gravel just underneath the surface in
the middle of the river. The book mentions these trees as the point by which you need to get
over to the left in order to be safe. They are listed as “row of trees”. Goodness knows how we’ll navigate
if they’re ever cut down. A sheep watched to see if I’d cope. Not wishing to take any chances, as I approached “line of trees”,
I began to steer the boat to port. By the time I almost got to the bridge, I was so close to the edge, I was almost in danger
of grounding from going too far that side! Luckily, my boat only has a draft of 1’6″,
so it could almost float on raindrops. The bridge carries the A57 joining
the A1 with Lincoln. Apparently it’s a toll bridge with a fee
of 50p for cars, £1 for vans and £2 for HGVs and coaches. The second bridge carries a pipe across the
river, though what it contains I know not. (Sound of mystery) Precisely one hour has elapsed since I set off and according to the guides I’ve
done about 1/4 of the journey so it clearly is going to be at least a 4-hour
trip up to Cromwell Lock and then you’ve got two hours
after that to get to Newark I’m a little bit anxious; the marina I’m
booked into said “do make sure to get there by 4.30pm latest
so there’s time to check in” and I’ve got locks to do. But there’s nothing else I can do, just
press on and see what time I get there. Worst case is I have to moor in Newark overnight but that’s a nuisance because I really
need to be back home tonight for ‘stuff’. But “que sera, sera”, I suppose. Bizarrely, in the middle of nowhere
just after that bridge, are these Canal & River Trust moorings for free use. Here’s a rather tight bend where again you must
avoid the inside line because of silt. If a boat had been coming the other way,
I’d have been on their side and would have had to scooch over
and hope for the best. Luckily, the river was very quiet. A pole in the water on the next corner
marks a shallow bit where there’s a line of sandbags
sticking out into the water. The guidebook in its no-nonsense style
refers to these as “line of sandbags”. (Sheep bleats) (Deathly glare from cormorants) It would appear I disturbed them. The viaduct at Fledborough comes into view next a former river crossing for
the railway, dating from 1897. and now part of a walking and cycling trail. There are both shallow mud banks on the right, but also a large shoal on the left. So you have to steer a path between the two without being able to see either of them. The guidebook says, “Line up between that pylon and the white pole” you can just see behind me. Sure enough, I made it to the viaduct
without incident. The sheep applauded. (No they didn’t,
I’m being silly) I tell you one thing, I’m very glad I put
my jumper on and my fleecy coat. It’s freezing. My hands are like icicles.
They’re all tingling and ugh! This is not fun boating. I like sunshine and
gin and tonics and just niceness. This is cold boating. I’m not a cold boater. And yes, I am grumbling. I will continue to grumble. Where’s the sunshine? This jetty leads to an industrial unit but I
don’t know if they use it for anything. Immediately after is another water skiing club! When a slow narrowboat meets a fast
speedboat towing a skier, who gives way to who? Luckily there was no activity
and I was doing well. One hour and 45 minutes in and half the
journey to Cromwell Lock done. So, picking up the pace a little which is good. (Engine noise) The sign ending the ski zone was a relief but it’s immediately followed
by a large sunken island on this long-sweeping left-hand bend. It’s enough of a threat that they’ve
put up big signs about it. You’re almost halfway past the island
when you reach Sluice 29b. The corner felt infinite but it’s not long until
the next thing at Grassthorpe Beck, and this wasn’t marked on my guide, a rickety scaffolding fence
sticking out into the river. Luck or intuition was on my side
almost immediately after, as I felt the presence of something
coming up behind me. I don’t know how I’d sensed
this boat approaching, but I looked behind and there it was. With loads of space to overtake, I slowed
a little and the cruiser came past with waves both from his hand and the boat’s bow. I felt like I was at sea for a moment
bobbing about in that wake. We were both hard over to the left
to miss this sandbank. (High-pitched thrum of Gentian
mixed with distant rumble of other boat) Then over to the other side for this one. (Crows (?) cawing) Was this a sunken pirate ship underwater? No, I think it was a big log. I gave it a wide berth. At Carlton-on-Trent, marked
by this old mill building, I was 2 miles from Cromwell Lock
as the crow flies, 3 by the river’s route. In fact, the river’s practically
forming an oxbow here. Now, those I *do* recall from geography lessons. With a bulbous 180 degree bend in the flow, bringing me past this jetty at Besthorpe. With not long until I reached Cromwell Lock,
there was a task I had to do: Total journey time so far,
3 hours, 40 minutes. I’m about two miles away from Cromwell Lock and I have got my little portable
VHF set with me and I do have a license to use it so I’m going
to see if I can get the lock keeper up and just tell him where I am
so he’s ready for me. Now I say I’ve got the license to use it,
but I did that exam back when I crossed the Wash
with Jo and Michael and how many years ago was that? So whether I can remember the proper sequence for
using the marine VHF is anybody’s guess but I only need to say “hello, I’m coming your way,
be ready for me” and that’ll be about it. That was duly done. The handheld VHF, which I was using for
the first time, worked perfectly and the lockie said he was ready for
me with the light on green. As I approached, the first sign is of the
mighty weir to the side of the lock and that wasn’t the only thing I needed to avoid. After 4 hours and 10 minutes,
I approach Cromwell Lock. All is well with the lock keeper, all is good. I have been warned it’s a bit silted
up on the approach to the lock but if I stick to the pontoons I should be OK. There’s that green light. And in a jiffy I was inside the lock with
the mammoth gates closing behind me. Lock operation here is all taken
care of by a keeper, so you just tie the boat onto the risers
set into the concrete sides so as to steady the boat while it rises
and you wait for the magic to happen. When the sluices open, it is a little
bit intimidating on a tiny boat! (Vast roar of incoming water) After a pleasant chat with the lockie,
I was on my way to Newark, still on the Trent but now off the tidal section. What a good thing they stop you
going over the weir… There are lovely moorings here if
you want to stop overnight. I’ve done so before and it was blissful. The sun was trying to pop its head out
but without much success and the wide river meant
a stiff breeze rushing around me. The boat was working exactly as hoped,
chugging away without missing a beat. I put the throttle forward a bit to try
to cover the last leg in good time, aware that I’d have to do the
two locks at Newark myself with volunteer lock-keepers not due
to start the season until the next day. The river was flat calm and it was good cruising. My Nicholson’s guidebook says there
are public moorings somewhere here but these aren’t them.
So where could they be? There are some at the pub but I can
see no sign indicating their usage. Never mind; onwards!
Newark beckons. (Engine sound) (Also, water gurgling) (Also, unknown chirruping) Good grief! That’s the second
sunken boat on this trip. And what an odd place to sink! (Mechanical sound from
tractor in field) The site of the A1 going over the river
meant I was nearly at Newark. Just after the bridge, the river forks off around
the town with a smaller flow through the centre. Only the latter route is navigable, hence the
sign saying “All Craft Straight On”. That’s the offshoot coming from around Newark. I approached Nether Lock, wondering where the lock landing would be
for me to step off and operate the controls. Those are overnight moorings, so I assumed there’d be a
lock landing around the corner. Not so! More on that in a minute. By the point you see me here bringing the boat
in, I’ve had a bit of a stressful time, which wasn’t improved by me now having to figure
out how I was going to tie the boat on a riser while still being able to reach the lock ladders, because the two things are set
wide apart in the concrete. I ended up doing a rather dodgy
grab for the ladder. This did not improve my mood,
but I got there in the end. I’ve almost come through Nether Lock.
It was quite the palava, because I came round to see
if there was a lock landing, because there are moorings and there’s
actually not a lock landing, there’s just some steps
to let someone off but I’m alone on the boat. So I tied the boat to the steps,
which was a bit precarious, opened the lock, brought the boat in, luckily the boat didn’t drift off,
again a bit precarious, and then realised that
it’s quite a deep lock and I wasn’t sure my centre line
was going to go up to the top, so I tied the centreline to the risers and just had to leave the boat
with the centreline tied to the risers. That’s worked and it’s risen but it’s all
been a bit nerve-wracking to say the least but I’m about to exit this lock
then I go through Newark and one more lock and
then I get to the marina. This should have been a relaxing final stretch but time was ticking on and I still
had Town Lock to do. Here are some floating visitor moorings, usually very busy but not this
early in the season, it seems. And there’s Newark Castle, built 900 years ago. Some more public moorings,
a bit harder to access. Through the middle arch at Newark Bridge
as the guidebook advises. There’s the castle again. It was largely destroyed
in 1646 at the end of the English Civil War. The orange light at the lock means
I had to operate it myself. This went a little smoother than the last
but still threw up some snags. I think because I was tired by this point. There’s an infuriating public warning message
that plays the entire time you’re in the lock “Please keep clear of the lock gate area.” “Warning! Please keep clear of the lock gate area” Shut up!!
“Warning, please keep clear of the lock…” and through with just half a mile or so to my
destination on the far side of town. (Tangible smell of triumph) There are floodgates to protect part of the
town in case of high river levels. Here the river does another little diversion to
the bottom of the lock I just came through. At last, after 7.5 hours,
Newark Marina lay dead ahead. Very friendly people here and the boat
would stay for the next three weeks. Thanks for watching. Cheerio!