The Canal twisted its way through red sandstone cliffs and leafy boughs
and the weather was once again very kind to us. The entry into Kidderminster
was a striking experience, as we first loitered in the dark, lugubrious
surroundings under a graffiti-adorned concrete road bridge, waiting for
a lock to empty, and then were raised up by the lock into the magnificent
presence of the enormous church towering over us. It was almost spiritual.
At about 3 o'clock we moored at the pretty village of Wolverley, where
we had lunch and the girls had their first go at fishing. They had no luck
and neither did the nearby boy on the towpath who was fishing for windlasses
with a magnet.
While we were moored I was disappointed to see us being passed by a boat from the Viking Afloat fleet, by the name of Gunnar. Not simply because it was a rival boat company, but because we had earlier encountered this particular boat moored on a bend very close to a lock, which made the approach to that lock very difficult. At about 4 o'clock we continued on our way through the countryside and as the sun was dazzlingly low in the sky we entered Kinver, a popular overnight mooring place, although our target for the day was to get a good bit further North.
As we approached the lock, who should be pulling out but Gunnar - whose
crew, having moored, had then decided they would rather moor the other
side of the lock. The female members of Gunnar's crew were setting the
lock, although they seemed to have a limited understanding of the process.
When they realised that we were also waiting to go up that lock, one of
them said "OK we'll leave it open for you then."
"No", I explained, "you'll have to close the gates because we're also
coming up."
"OK then," she said, but they still left it open anyway.
I
was pleased to see them mooring again just after that lock and I motored
on, increasing the miles between us. We reached our destination for the
day at 8 o'clock - an area known as Stewponey. One reason for getting this
far was that it could supply us with the water that we badly needed, as
we had last refilled on Monday morning. Once we'd refilled I was hoping
to pull the boat forwards into a space just big enough for us that was
far enough from the water-point so as not to inconvenience any other customers.
This plan was then scuppered when another boat pulled in, also needing
water. Initially they said they intend to carry on past the lock, but then
they changed their mind and took the space I had my eye on. So instead
we pulled the boat back towards the lock, so the water-point was again
available, but we would be a bit in the way for any one that might need
to wait for the lock. But it was really the only option, and we knew that
we'd better be up early tomorrow to move.
Before bed, we had a team talk about our next move because, being the end of the the third full day, it was time to decide whether to commit ourselves to completing the Stourport Ring or to retrace our steps back to Stoke Prior. We unanimously felt that it would be more interesting to complete the ring, but I was anxious to make everyone aware of the number of locks that lay ahead and the need for total team commitment if we were to succeed. The team accepted the challenge and the plan was set.
