Granny Buttons

Granny's facelift in the paint dock at Streethay

Granny Buttons is in the paint dock at Streethay Wharf for yet another week, and is finally due out next weekend.   I never tire of seeing the raw - almost 'steampunk' - look of bare steel, sanded down and awaiting its first layer of primer. 

This time - instead of a full repaint of the superstructure, which I really can't afford - they are just sanding down and repainting the top cant rails and a band at the bottom, just above the gunwale, the primary locus of rust-spots, together with repainting the counter (the bit you stand on at the back). 

It looks filthy at the moment, but it always does in the middle of a repaint, what with the dust everywhere.

This will hopefully stop the rust spreading and protect my investment.  And in conjunction with the refreshed bottom it will make Granny Buttons look respectable again.   I'll never forget the little boy who looked at my newly repainted boat 7 years ago and whispered 'She's beautiful!'   He made me feel so good, I'd probably leave Granny to him in my will if I'd known who he was.

I doubt that this semi-repaint can return Granny to her gorgeous  youth, but at least she's having a facelift.

I like the effect that painter Richard has given at the back, of a bright Post Office Red ram's head and mooring dollies.  Bright, gay primary colours seem to work well on narrowboats. 

I'm always shocked at the dust in a wet dock, though. 

I think of all the paint that comes off from the sanding and settles on the water, and the invisible sweat of steel that must come off with it, and I wonder:  what's its effect on the environment?

Doesn't seem to affect the fish too much, though.  The larger fish - carp especially - happily congregate nearby and expend much of their energy in thrashing about, presumably spawning, whilst on the nearby slipway the water seems to shimmer with the small fry coming in to feed.  This is despite - or perhaps because of - all the crap that comes off a narrowboat when it's spraywashed and blacked.

A hundred years ago the canal must have been much worse.  Indeed, in some industrial areas canals would become dead - and even inflammable - from all the pollution.

Daily Mail, bigger story of the Ponty aqueduct

The river in the heavens -Daily Mail

I like this article in today's Daily Mail by Robert Hardman.  It's a full 2,000 word article about the aqueduct - with quite a few illustrative photos  - instead of simply a rewrite of the official press releases as most other papers seem to have done.

He also seems to have actually visited it, which is nice.

Hey for Lubberland!

Twin Birmingham artists Simon and Tom Bloor have hired a British Waterways working boat over the summer, are doing it up in 'dazzle camouflage', and will be inviting people aboard for free trips around central Birmingham during the summer.

It's a project hosted by the Ikon Gallery in Brindleyplace, and I guess it's art.  They are calling it Hey for Lubberland, and here's the Ikon Gallery's description: 

[It] involves a working canal boat covered by a colourful canopy. Made according to ‘geodesic’ principles, popularised in the 1950s by visionary thinker Buckminster Fuller, it will provide shelter for passengers while they browse through an onboard library of books on utopian design.

The boat canopy decoration is decorated with the Bloor’s interpretation of dazzle camouflage, a type of graphic patterning developed by war artists for naval ships as a means of confusing the enemy. Known as ‘Razzle Dazzle’ during the First World War, its success was limited (as was that of Fuller’s geodesic design).

In this way, the Bloors manifest their long-standing interest in obscure history and flawed idealism as embodied in fine art, architecture and popular culture.

The title Hey for Lubberland! is derived from a 17th century English ballad about the New World, mistaken for utopia, but in fact a kind of fool’s paradise.

The boat transports passengers around Brindleyplace.  Tuesday-Sunday, 1-5pm, admission free. Children must be accompanied by an adult at all times.

(There's an excellent article about dazzle camouflage here.)

You probably already know what I think about modern art.  I think true art needs to have an element of skill - of manual craft - about it.

This doesn't sound like art to me.  Like so much of what passes for art nowadays, it's more like a premise for a philosophical discussion.  Like the first five minutes of In Our Time, before you, you know, switch over to Radio 2, or like being invited to tea with an Oxford don.  

In Hey for Lubberland! I think the premise is that you are supposed to consider the nature of utopia.  Judging by the fact that so many people nowadays sell their houses, throw back the keys and take to life afloat, that's no bad premise to start a discussion.

The dazzle-camouflage of the boat will perhaps help to throw you off the scent if you start to question the whole premise of the project.   In fact, the success or otherwise of the project will hang on how spectacularly - how skillfully - the Bloor brothers have painted the boat.   In that sense, done well it will definitely be art.

The song of the title can be found on Wikipedia as 'An Invitation To Lubberland' 

Zuleika's book boat

The Book Barge is now open for business, at Barton Marina.  

I heard about this in Thursday's' Express & Star, with its grating headline:  Bookstore on a barge is one hull of an idea.  

But you might have seen The Book Barge  mentioned in an earlier story in The Sentinel last March:  Opening a new chapter.

Ouch, sack those sub-editors!   Aside from the intolerable puns, it's technically not a barge but a narrowboat. 

I'd be interested to know if The Book Barge will actually cruise, or is only a 'business barge' in the BW sense. 

That is, will it just occupy mooring space and never go anywhere except to have its bottom blacked?  (I hate it when boats don't go anywhere, it's like building on water.) 

It would be wonderful to have this boat cruising the waterways, at least part of the year.

This new business is the brainchild of Sarah Henshaw, who's pictured in the Express & Star wearing long, blonde hair, a very short skirt and a winning smile, much like my idea of Zuleika Dobson. 

She's dealing initially just in fiction, mostly second-hand.  It's early days, but I'd like to see the catalogue online, and this would make it very easy for her to persuade me to buy.  She should also specialise in a particular subject; that's the way to build a reputation quickly.  Waterways books would be an obvious focus, but perhaps that's too easy an idea. 

The Book Barge has already started a blog, so it gets on my boatroll.  Sarah should also consider Twitter, since 'tweeting' is an easy way of alerting customers to new and unusual items in stock.

Talk at the Canal Museum: When London Became an Island

There's an interesting talk tonight at 7:30pm at the London Canal Museum: 

How the book "When London Became an Island" came to be written:  

A talk by Robert Philpotts, author of the book, which is a detailed account of the building of the Regent's Canal.

Robert's first book was on the Grantham Canal. He then wrote about the construction of the Lancaster Canal.

I bought the book as a birthday gift to myself last year, and it's a great read.  There's a companion website here:  www.whenlondonbecame.org.uk.  

I wish I could be at the talk, and I hope they record it as a podcast.  I lost touch with Bob long ago, but I have fond memories of the time we shared a flat in Putney, about 30 years ago.  At that time he was still working as a teacher, but busy cultivating the delightful pointillist drawing technique which has become such a distinctive feature of his books. 

I remember the sweltering summer of 1978 (or was it 1979?  My, how tempus fugits), and how he sat topless in the small back garden at the bottom of the stairs and work on his drawing technique. 

He was a teacher then, and I also remember how the schoolboys' nickname for him - 'spamhead' - followed him home and how we all started using it, which he endured with good humour.  (When my own hair started to fall out a few years later our mutual friends started calling me that too.   Alternatively I was known as 'marblehead'.)

Bob was always very modest, even-tempered and impeccably polite, a good flat-sharer, and great company at parties, a rare combination.  But I never realised he'd end up writing and illustrating such interesting canal history books too.  It's a shame they aren't more widely distributed.  (Sign up here to be notified when Amazon stocks them.)

I wonder if he remembers me, or me taking this photo of him at his drawing table?  Hi, Bob!

This Pontcysyllte Aqueduct post doesn't have the H-word in it

This is a blog post about the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct and Canal.

I bet it's the only occurrence of the 'Ponty' on the web  this week (or last week) that doesn't mention the U-word, the W-word or the H-word.  At all.

I'm amused, though, to see that Granny is at time of writing No. 2 in Google for 'Pontcysyllte Aqueduct and Canal'.   The sole purpose of this post is to see if I can rank higher.

Google is such a good game, eh?  I wonder if it would help if I misspelled Pontycysylte, Pontcysllte, Pontycyllte or aquaduct?

Coppermill Lock repairs, and lock gate lock-miles

It's taken me 6 months to mention it, but I was really impressed by the official pictures of the repair of Coppermill Lock on the Grand Union near Uxbridge, sent out by BW's press office in last January to accompany a press release.  They looked great!  

(See 'A year of public hangings on the waterways')

This was especially striking when contrasted with images from a similar repair a hundred years ago (see below).

I think they are all very atmospheric, and show the similarities and differences between working methods and building site photography, then and now. 

Some of the 2009 staff are wearing lifejackets, presumably to cushion their fall on the hard lock bottom when they trip over all the other gear they are wearing.

(The more I see these floatation devices, the more they look to me like brassieres on workmen, and mayoral chains on middle-management suits.  Either way they seem like cross-dressing.)

On the other hand, the 1909 photograph perhaps explains why 21stC Health and Safety is so protective.  I don't have a head for heights, and the children on the plank across the lock  are daredevils.  Children, don't try this at home!   

I understand that all modern broad-lock gates are now made at BW's Stanley Ferry workshops near Wakefield in Yorkshire.  Presumably Coppermill's gates were made at BW's Bulbourne yard near Tring, until it closed in 2004.   They make 200 gates a year at Stanley Ferry, apparently  That's four a week.

(The gates for narrow locks are still made at BW's Bradley yard on the BCN near Dudley, and this has sensibly has ensured a reason for keeping open an interesting but rarely-cruised canal arm.)

There's a good bird's-eye view here of the Stanley Ferry yard - on Bing Maps - showing oak gates under construction and a lot of other wood piled up and presumably being seasoned.

In this aerial view, on the opposite bank of the Aire & Calder Navigation (below), you can also see some old gates perhaps awaiting repair, and (look  further left) what looks like a yard piling up fresh timber.

Just as our food now is measured in food-miles (the distance food must travel from field to mouth), I suppose that lock gates can now be measured in lock gate lock-miles.

As BW rationalises, moves, and closes its yards around the country, I suppose 'lock gate lock-miles' will only increase.   But is that a bad thing?

It would have been good PR if the aerial view could have caught a couple of barges being loaded with these gates, to reassure us that  they were being carried by water. 

But then I suppose it would have taken several men a couple of weeks to get them to Coppermill Lock, instead of employing one man in a cab for a few hours.

What are the arguments for and against?

You might not be the only one waiting for your boat licence

 

If you are waiting for the BW Craft Licensing Office to process your canal boat licence renewal you might not be the only one.

When I was returning from Walsall earlier this month, I passed the narrowboat of a certain nationally known businessman.  He wasn't aboard, and I was sorry to miss him, as I've long hoped to meet him.

There were pleading hand-scrawled signs in his window.  One (undated, but covering an expired licence) said:

NEW FULL LICENCE
APPLIED + PAID
FOR WAITING FOR
IT IN POST
ANY PROBS
07 . . . . . . . . . . . .

(I blanked out the phone number)

The other, similar in tone, was dated April 30th, five weeks before I took these photos.

Who is he?  Let's just say he was given a handsome profile in a national newspaper today and is somewhat in the news. :-)

It takes me back to my problems getting my licence renewed last year, when I'd lost my copy of the Boat Safety Certificate. 

Despite the Boat Safety office being happy to confirm (to anyone who rang them, even anonymously) that Granny actually had a safety certificate, the Craft Licensing Office next door refused to take my money until they had sight of it.   I thought this was ridiculous; after all, I don't have to show DVLA my MOT when I apply for a driving licence road tax - they just look up their records.  In the end  they backed down and nipped next door to check the records, but I didn't have a licence on my boat until nearly six months after it was due for renewal. 

Fallen tree on Rochdale Canal, Granny on way to remove it

A lady rang early this morning to tell me that a tree had fallen overnight and blocked the Rochdale Canal, at Walsden near Todmorden. 

It was a kind and helpful call, but in a tone that suggested I ought to sort it out. 

I was hugely flattered that I was the first person she thought to contact, as I've not been there since my trip nearly five  years ago.   I duly thanked her for being so diligent but said it was nothing to do with me, and she duly apologised and presumably went off to ring someone else in the Google search results instead.

Sometimes I don't know what surprises me most:  That Granny should pop up so prominently in web searches for obscure places, or that people still assume that because I've written about something, I'm therefore responsible for it.

Surely fallen trees across the Rochdale Canal are the responsibility of www.penninewaterways.co.uk?   Come on, Martin, get a move on!

Update today:  (what a coincidence)

Tree collapses into Derbyshire canal  - Derby Telegraph

A stretch of the Trent and Mersey canal has been closed after a large tree collapsed into the water, blocking the towpath.  The tree toppled into a section of the water at Weston on Trent at about 8.40am, forcing British Waterways to shut the canal until further notice.

This was a few minutes after the lady called me about the Rochdale Canal tree.  But it's out of the Pennine Waterways area, so I don't know which blogger or webmaster is responsible for clearing the Trent & Mersey tree.

Magazine covers start to look different

I often feel that special interest magazines - and especially canal and waterways publications -  tend to look much the same on the newsagents' shelves.

In the past few months I've noticed a difference in the recent editions of Canal Boat, but I couldn't put my finger on why.

I think I realise now.  It's not content, words or the choice of front cover picture.  It's the photo editing. 

Canal Boat has started to photoshop its cover photographs so that the dynamic range - the ratio between highlight and shadows - is much more gradual.   Almost like HDR (high dynamic range) photographs.

I'm not sure if this is done at the production stage, or if the photographers (often David Oakes, who took the one here, and also photographed Granny Buttons on the Jan 2001 issue) tweak the photo before they submit the photo.

In the past it - and hisitorically all canal magazines - have favoured the traditional high contrast, dark-shadowed canal pictures, which emphasise brilliant sunlight, often combined with almost navy-dark skies.

But what's best?  

To show you the difference, I've tweaked one of my own photos, of Granny Buttons at Perry Barr Top Lock a couple of weeks ago.

The upper version is the (more or less) original, while below I've reduced the harsh shadows somewhat.  I use ACDSee Pro, but most photo editors will happily lighten the shadows using a 'fill light' facility.

My own preference is for the less contrasty, pictures, but perhaps that's just because I dislike the harsh shadows that accompany brilliant sun and blue skies.  They make me squint, even though they are darker.

Someone once called my own photos 'filmic', because I process them so much to lighten the shadows and saturate the colours. (This is less accurate, but feels more picturesque to me.) 

I don't think it was meant as a criticism or a compliment, just an observation.

Britain's Got Heritage

Unesco names Pontcysyllte aqueduct as UK's latest World Heritage site - The Times (and many more)

UNESCO has granted World Heritage Site status to "The Pontcysyllte Aqueduct & Canal".  

As mentioned last week, I can't get excited by this.  These events are presented like a beauty pageant.

Or perhaps a more contemporary reference is Britain's Got Heritage.   Dozens of hopefuls come to the auditions, and a very few perform in front of the sleek and glossy judges, and pray they won't get three raspberries, so that they can get through to the UNESCO finals.

I can understand 'World Heritage Site' status for countries where structures or environments are under threat from ignorant savages (such as happened to the Bamiyan Buddhas in Afghanistan although a fat lot of good that did them), or from the desperation of impoverished people.  

But the way Britain's Got Heritage works is that we already know we have plenty worth preserving and we are trying to persuade ignorant UNESCO of the fact.   And we are forced to tone down the amount of heritage, in case the UN satraps don't believe us.

Regarding the official congratulatory picture (taken at the aqueduct), I'd like to see more mayors turning up for the end of successful Waterways Recovery Group working parties, perhaps celebrating by holding up pints of cider.

Waterscape blogs

Waterscape is experimenting with blogs by BW staff members:  Blogs on Waterscape.com 

I think this is a great move and sets a good example for other public corporations.

In any organisation it's tough to get going if it's imposed from the top.  That is, it's not enough for the boss to say "Right, you you and you, start blogging!"   There'll be one long, rambling article about nothing in particular, and then nothing at all thereafter. 

Instead, it's more about encouraging those staff who write good and sensible emails to be open with their thoughts.  If they've always been sensible (and literate) in their emails, they will probably be good bloggers.

Seven good guidelines when you are starting to blog:

1. Have something you want to say.  Don't just sit down and think "right, I need to do a blog today, what shall I write?"
2. Think of it as a memo to the boss.   Be positive: say how things could be better, don't say what's wrong.   If you do rant, give a positive flourish to the end.
3. Make the main point in the first paragraph.  In other words, if someone doesn't read beyond the first para, they should still come away with the gist.
4. Keep it short - no more than a screenful if possible.  As a rule of thumb, if readers need to scroll down to read it all, they probably won't bother. 
5. Add links; give people a reason to leave your site.  If you give good links , they'll come to rely on you and return to read you.   Link, link, link to stuff you like.
6. Try to keep on one subject.  Split different points into different posts.
7. A list of things (as here) always works well in a blog post.  People love lists.

You can break these rules when you are experienced and have developed your own voice, of course, but sticking to them will help in the early days.

[I've updated and expanded this post from its original pocket-sized version]