Lock, Berkeley and home*

The freighter Wilson Tees eases its way into Sharpness Lock

Two days ago we hiked 13 miles to post a letter; today we walked eight miles to find a Co-op. On the way, as it was nearly high tide, we decided to check out the sea lock at the docks. 

The canal forks as it arrives at Sharpness; right was the old exit to the estuary, now a small marina while left heads into the heart of the docks and then exits to the estuary via a much bigger, newer lock. You have to walk all the way round the edge of the docks to find it, past grain stores, cement silos, stacks of timber and a scrap metal depot which illustrate that this is still a busy little docks. 

Sharpness was quiet today but it's normally a busy little docks

First you have to negotiate what locals call 'the island', the sizeable area of land between the two arms of canal. It's all semi-derelict now, save for the Dockers' Club, and there's just a decaying sign on a fence to recall the camp of the HMS Vindicatrix sea training school that was based here. All that could change for CaRT has ambitious development plans for the whole of the dockland estate with housing and, on the island, leisure facilities.

A plaintive reminder of the sea training base that was here

Arriving at the lock we missed a narrowboat and a big cruiser who left for the trip to Bristol just before high tide but a cargo ship, the 1500 tonne Wilson Tees from Lithunia carrying a load of fertiliser was inching its way patiently in.

The incoming tide runs fast – even for a big coaster – and it had turned, positioned itself against the arm of the mole (the pier as we landlubbers call it) and was using bow thrusters and engine to pivot slowly round against the force of the tide.

Quite a little crowd had gathered to watch. There's an immaculate picnic area there to watch the ships or just view the river – across to Lydney or down beyond the two Severn bridges. Apparently you used to be able to walk right to the lockside, until someone sadly committed suicide by driving their car off the harbour edge!)

After the lock it was time to head for the nearest small town, Berkeley and its Co-op. There's a tiddly shop at Sharpness docks and a marginally better Mace and PO at Newtown on the hill behind them but for a proper shop that sells stuff like vegetables, it's Berkeley four miles away up a busier than expected B-road on a hotter than expected afternoon.

Remarkably, little Berkeley had two charity shops, which kept Harrywoman happy and a decent Co-op wherewe bought lunch (including a Little Caesar meal for Seadog Brian), and stocked up on fruit and veg.

Looking for somewhere to have our picnic lunch we discovered there was a whole lot more to Berkeley than a Co-op. Like a Norman castle, lived in by the same family who built it – a family who can trace their lineage back to Saxon times. And a stunning 13th century church. And the house where Edward Jenner, the man who invented vaccination, lived.

The magnificent Berkeley Castle lived in by the family for 900 years

Robert Fitzharding, first baron of Berkeley, was an Anglo Saxon nobleman and he built the present keep and wall with much of the rest added in the 14th century. Remarkably his descendants still live there though as there isn't much call for noblemen to fight in battles any more, the place earns its keep as a wedding venue and filming location for the likes of Wolf Hall these days.

A beautiful 13the century church but its bell tower is out of sight

Unfortunately it's well screened from view unless you're a paying visitor, which we weren't today. We contended ourselves with a look in the beautiful church. Note the lack of a bell tower in the photo – the baron of Berkeley didn't want townsfolk peering into his castle from the tower so it's built separately on the other side of the churchyard.

Tomb of the 8th Lord of Berkeley who fought at Crecy and his wife

The church has impressive Berkeley tombs. There's an eerie sense of historical immediacy standing by the tomb of the 3rd Baron who fought alongside the king at the Battle of Crecy. Outside are some fascinating tombs, too, including that of Dicky Pearce, the Earl of Suffolk's fool and last court jester who died after falling from the minstrels' gallery of the castle's hall. Or, as some say, was he pushed – just as a joke? The inscription on his tomb was written by Jonathan Swift.

Tomb of Dicky Pearce, the last court jester in England

Edward Jenner lived very nearby. He noticed that milkmaids who caught cowpox, a very mild cousin to smallpox, never caught the virulent disease. He scraped the pus of the milkmaid's cowpox blisters and injected them in patients – who were successfully immunised against smallpox.

A return trip along the busy road to Sharpness loomed until Harrywoman had the brilliant idea of returning along the Severn Way. Some Google-mapping and querying of locals confirmed that it could be done: the small stream by the castle led to the oddly named Berkeley Pill – a Severn tributary whose tidal waters once allowed trading craft right up to Berkeley and the castle. And from the Pill, the path led along the estuary side back to Sharpness.

Among the flotsam, this curious item of iron tipped timber

It was a great walk, through sheep fields and along the estuary bank, where lines of flotsam timber, some virtually tree trunk size, begged to be collected for firewood. Finally we were back at the docks picnic area for a last sit down and look at the ebbing river before heading home.

* A self-indulgent play on words to remind me of my uni philosophy course on Messrs Locke, Berkeley and Hume.

A long way to post a letter

The delightful St Cyr's church on the Stroudwater Canal

Yesterday we walked thirteen miles to post a letter. It was only meant to be three but when we got to Frampton upon Severn's post office and store we found it wasn't there. If you see what I mean.
So we set off on a ten mile hike to find another.
There was possibly one closer – though I'm not sure; shops are thin on the ground around here – but we  had already planned to walk part of the route of the Stroudwater Canal to Stonehouse, and that certainly had a P.O. so the letter joined our packed lunches.

A derelict lock but the gates were new in 1996

The Cotswold Canals restoration project was launched back in 2001 as a breathtaking scheme to resurrect the two canals that run from the head of navigation on the Thames at Lechlade to the Severn. Just 36 miles of canal and the lengthy Sapperton Tunnel. Since then it's been a flagship of the restoration movement attracting £25m in funding from the Heritage Lottery and others. With the aid of this – and huge volunteer help – a tough six mile stretch through Stonehouse and Stroud is now open. Now attention has turned to the section we were due to walk which will link this to the G&S at Saul. It's due to be done in 2020.
So what have they got to do? Beyond the short arm at Saul was the first obstacle; a low road bridge. But, judging by what's been achieved so far, that's just a small issue. After that the canal continued in water for a few hundred yards then petered out at a derelict lock, overgrown by brambles.  Oddly though the lock gates were dated 1996.

How to get under the M5 is the restorer's next challenge

Beyond this the canal simply disappeared –  just a steep bank between the River Frome and a farmer's field which is where the old canal is now buried. Soon after that a section is back in water but we wrong-slotted and couldn't find it. Instead we walked along the river bank to the A38 and M5, the two major obstacles in the canal's path. The canal will have to be re-routed under each. (On the way back we found our missing section by walking up the A38 to a roundabout and there it was – the second exit.)

Isolated sections are in water – this even has a surviving bridge

It's river bank all the way from the A38 to the edge of Eastington then north up a road and suddenly here's the canal again. Not just a reedy, sleepy section but a real canal with huge Severn barge size locks, all there , full of water and ready to go. Well nearly ready. We walked past "the world's first advanced composite lift bridge" as it says on the plaque to the last challenge – a main railway line that crosses the canal on an embankment. Tunneling a culvert through will not be hard, just esxpensive in costs for disrupting the railway.

Another minor problem – driving the canal under this railway line

Nutshell Bridge, Stonehouse and its surviving bridge house

Beyond the railway is the jewel in the crown of this stretch, a quintessentially English scene: views across open meadows to distant hills off to one side while on the other, a handsome Elizabethean house, Stonehouse Court, now a hotel and the delightful St Cyr's church.
The canal here is already in use by a canal society trip boat and as it enters Stonehouse, even looks like a workaday canal scene, back gardens of bungalows look onto the towpath; modern 'executive homes' stand opposite.
Now we were in the town all we had to do was post our letter, buy an ice cream ... and head home again.
It was a delightful walk on a sunny day and an eye-opening look at what can be achieved with determination and ambition. Can't wait for 2020 and a chance to do it again – by boat.
Today we left Saul and headed down to the end of the line at Sharpness for a weekend of more exploring. And Sunday lunch at the Dockers' Club.

Bores and boats

The  Gloucester & Sharpness is only fifteen miles long and it's straight enough and deep enough to race down it at high speed – as many boats do. But if you take things easy and have an explore away from the boat there's plenty to slow you down.

We arrived back after our long weekend away to find Harry safe and sound by Rea swingbridge. Before we left there was a last chance to see the famous Severn Bore, with the river just a five minute walk away down the road at Stonebench. By Bore standards this one was weak (just one out of five possible stars according to the experts) and we'd also missed the best of the spring tide over the weekend.

Before and after - barely a minute as the Bore surges up and fills the river

All the same, a Bore, even a small Bore would be worth seeing so I waited on the river bank for its arrival. And waited. And waited. Until at 11 a.m. I gave up, walked up the bank and suddenly, with staggering speed the fresh tide came racing up the river and I rushed back.
It wasn't terribly high, true, but the sheer speed of the water is awesome and within a minute the level was three or four feet up the bank and still coming on hard and fast. A five star Bore must be a sight to see.

The handsome schooner Vilma heads up the canal

Back at the boat, we unmoored and headed on for Sellars Bridge and a fill-up of water. This is another of the manual bridges that are opened and closed by a keeper heaving round a large wheel. All that's due to change in a year or two when the bridges are automated and the keepers sadly lose their jobs in a cost saving exercise by CaRT.
There's enough headroom for a narrowboat to get through Sellars with the bridge closed so when the keeper started spinning the wheel to open it, something tall was clearly coming through. And it was a beautiful tall ship, 'Vilma' from Beaumaris, built in Denmark in the 1940s (so Mr Google told me later) and rigged as a topsail schooner. That sounds knowledgeable but actually haven't a clue what it means!

An old barge lies derelict and its water filled hold turns into a reed bed

The next bridges are much lower to the water; no chance of getting under them, and electrically operated, though still by a keeper. We went through Parkend and then arrived out of low lying rural scenery into the hustle and bustle of Saul Junction.
The junction is dominated by the large, busy looking yard of RW Davis where there is everything from lifeboats to the famous RW Davis Northwich Trader narrowboats being worked on. Saul Junction was once a watery crossroads where the Stroudwater Canal, coming up from the Severn, crossed the G&S en route to the inland port of Brimscombe near Stroud where it met the Thames & Severn Canal which went the rest of the way to the Thames at Lechlade. The Cotswold Canals restoration project aims to have this stupendous link back in service one day and already has significant sections back in water.
For the moment though there's just a quarter mile giving access to Saul Marina, a massive mooring basin tucked out of sight behind the boatyard.
Tomorrow, weather permitting, we will do some more exploring in the area. As I said, this is not a canal to be rushed.

The busy boatyard of RW Davis dominates the canal scene at Saul Junction

Who'd have thought it.

Lower Parting where the two channels of the river meet again

We looked out the window yesterday morning and saw, to our complete surprise, moored across the Docks was narrowboat Sea Eagle who we crossed The Wash with last summer.
A couple of hours later we bumped into Anthony, its skipper, who it turns out moors down the canal at Saul; so maybe not such a surprise to find him there. Meeting him changed our plans for the day as he told us of some interesting walks around Alney Island, the nature reserve on the other side of the river from the docks. So, after a morning's wander round Gloucester's shops - a decidedly unlovely clutch of 1960s and 70s precincts sadly - we headed across the footbridge from the Dock to the island.

Ships masts rise above dock buildings - a view unchanged for 150 years

Alney is one of the largest natural river islands in the country. It starts back at Upper Parting where the river splits and ends two miles down at Lower Parting where they meet again for the final run to the estuary. At its widest, it's three quarters of a mile across. Most of it is low lying and prone to flooding but there are a few houses and an electric sub station: the rest is meadow and nature reserve. Which is why we saw hardly any interesting birds. In my experience, if you want to see birds, don't go to a nature reserve – I think they deliberately hide from visitors!
We walked round the southern edge of the island, following the river and looked back across at the docks where tall masts stood out between the old brick buildings in a view that has been unchanged for 150 years. We were looking out for the remains of Llanthony Lock, which was built to by-pass the river weir and give an alternative route to the rest of the river to boats that didn't want to pay the canal dues. It was in service from 1871 until 1924 when its walls started to move inwards. But it's still there, remarkably complete, and even has a lock house that's occupied.

Llanthony Lock: when restored it will be the gateway to a revived canal

The lock, the house and the land around it were bought by the Herefordshire and Gloucestershire Canal Trust as part of its restoration plan. Boats would come down the river as we did, carry on past Gloucester Lock, by-pass the weir via a restored Llanthony Lock, head on down river to Lower Parting, turn up the west channel and then, via a new, yet to be built lock, into the canal. An interesting bit of tidal river boating there!
We followed the route they will take to Lower Parting, a glorious spot where the two channels meet and the river, now wide and magnificent again, flows on. It's a wonderfully remote place, with fine views – and to see the Severn Bore racing up towards you there must be a great sight.
A father and young son were fishing – for sea bass. Now that's what I call angling; catching fish you can take home and eat.
We headed north up the side of the western channel towards the huge modern road bridge that takes the A40 from Gloucester to Wales. Beside it is the railway bridge and sandwiched between them an single arched stone bridge whose classic proportions could only have been designed by one man – yes, it's that chap Thomas Telford once more.

Another great Telford bridge once spanned the Severn as the main road to Wales

Over Bridge is now just used as a footbridge but this was once  the main road bridge west out of the city – and until the first Severn Bridge was built in the 1960s the main road route to south Wales as there was no crossing possible lower down the river. We had a few family holidays in Wales and I must have crossed it a few times as a child; how strange.
We walked across, ducked under the big new bridge and turned off the river path to see if we could discover the start of the Herefs & Gloucs Canal. And it was quite a surprise to clamber up the bank and find, not a damp ditch, but a fully finished canal basin, all pristine, smart, in water and even with a cluster of boats able to ply the half mile length that's in water. There's even a Wharf House visitor centre though that was shut by the time we got there.

The basin of the Herefs & Gloucs Canal - all built by volunteer labour

It's a hell of an achievement. The basin was dug out by the developer of the surrounding houses but all the building work was done by Canal Trust volunteers and the Waterway Recovery Group. You have to admire the grit and enthusiasm of these restoration groups and hope that they can maintain their impetus over what will always be a long haul.
Today we've moved on from the Docks: our 48 hours is up and we are moored out in the country now ready for a weekend of grandparent duties way across country in Suffolk. Back blogging next week.

The bridge lifts and we have to leave the wonderful Docks behind

Around Gloucester Docks

This handsome square rigger regularly features on tv and film

This truly is a marvellous place to be. This morning the barge Mallana left so we have an even better view of the elegant square riggers moored at T Nielsen's yard. Nielsen's is one of the world's leading companies in traditional ship building and restoration – they'll even quote for a wooden narrowboat according to a sign on their wall if you can afford it.
Their real business is working on traditional sailing ships like the Earl of Pembroke which is sitting in one of the huge dry docks at the moment. Built as recently as the 1940s,  it has starred, suitably altered, in many tv and cinema epics, including as Shackleton's Endurance and Captain Cook's Endeavour.

Unlikely base for T Nielsen, one of the world's top classic boat builders. 

It's just extraordinary how much of these docks have survived. They were still working into the 1960s which probably saved the marvellous warehouses from the demolition man's wrecking ball. Now renovated and spruced up, they may be largely offices inside but outside they still look the part. It's the incidentals that help, too: everywhere you go there are huge mooring rings and bollards, bits of old railway track and the occasional crane.

The excellent Waterways Museum puts it all into context. There's plenty of familiar stuff about the origins of canals and the lives of boatmen – after all this is a museum for the general public not knowledgeable boaters – but the stories are well told; there are good exhibits and waxwork models and a particularly fine display of roses and castles painted ware.

The fascinating and informative Waterways Museum is well worth a visit

The stories and photos of Gloucester Docks are fascinating. Tales and images of a docks so busy that boats had to anchor in mid-basin and even queue down the canal waiting for their turn to load or unload. Of the huge warehouses, mainly holding grain, that would be completely filled and emptied several times a year – all the cargoes literally manhandled, hoisted up through the warehouse floors by hand operated cranes, loaded into barges and narrowboats by manpower. How the place must have echoed with noise and teemed with people.

The Waterways Museum and its huge steam dredger

NB Harry's chef checks out the dredger's galley facilities

Gloucester was a vital interchange between the canals and the sea; a panorama of photographs of all the industries whose raw materials and products went in or out through the docks from around the country – steel, pottery, timber, coal – was remarkable and at the same time slightly depressing. A reminder of just how many of our traditional manufacturing industries have vanished.
Outside we had a look in a narrowboat butty and a steam dredger used in the docks until recently and complete with waxwork crew member to guide our visit.

Dwarfed by the warehouses is the tiny Mariners' Chapel

Simple interior and beautiful stained glass are a delight

Our final port of call on our trip round the docks was to the Mariners' Chapel, a tiny church standing in the shadow of one of the vast warehouses. The simple interior, illuminated by some beautiful stained glass, including a pair of very handsome modern windows, was a delight – even to this cynical non-believer.
Tomorrow it's time to explore the town.

In Gloucester Docks

Tied up in the atmospheric surroundings of Gloucester Dock

Well here we are safely tied up in Gloucester Docks surrounded by tall brick warehouses and the lasts of square rigged sailing ships. It's all richly redolent of a past age of ships and shipping. But more of that tomorrow after a trip round the Waterways Museum and some more exploring round the docks and the city.
For the moment, this is just a quick update to say that we are here, that the trip today was a whole lot let wild and windy than yesterdays – we even had moments of sunshine – and even the notoriously tricky entrance to Gloucester Dock's Lock was a bit of a pussycat.

Heading towards the lock; the main river flows past it to the weir

It is easy to imagine, though, that it can bite with some very sharp teeth should the river be running hard and the tide be high. The Seven actually splits a couple of miles out at Upper Parting where an un-navigable channel takes half the flow away towards the estuary. The remainder, now running in a deceptively narrow and appealingly rural channel brings us swiftly towards the city and the lock.
It's time to phone the lock keeper and have him prepare the lock ready for our arrival for the main river rushes right past the mouth of the lock and straight on towards a weir. It's not a place for dithering and the advice was 'drive straight in; there's plenty of room to stop when you're safe in the lock'. Which we did – and still felt the flick of the weir stream across our tail as we went through.
The monster, 200ft long lock takes an age to fill and gradually the tall warehouses come into view. We came out into the wide open space of the dock basin, spoiled for choice on mooring spots and eventually found ourselves a slot on the western wall just beside a handsome Dutch barge.

Wild and windy

More like the tidal Thames than the River Severn today

It's been a wild and windy afternoon on the river. Four hours into a bitingly cold headwind downstream from Worcester felt more like ten and we were glad to moor up. Even if the pub we were moored at turned out to be closed on Sunday evenings.
We woke up this morning to find that the river had risen a foot overnight and was lapping the riverside path beside us. A reminder that the Severn is a big river and starts way up in Wales. Where it always rains! It was flowing much faster too with assorted lumps of tree drifting past at speed. Nothing to seriously alarm us, though, or stop us casting off after a morning stroll around the city.
I was anticipating an undemanding run down to Upton upon Severn but things didn't quite work out that way. The Severn is often called a dull river to boat along, with its high banks hiding the outside world and few riverside villages or towns to catch the eye. But this first stretch from Worcester was anything but. A little bland in parts, perhaps, but gloriously tree lined in others, then breaking out into open views of the distant Malvern hills before closing in to run past steep red stone cliffs where trees clung perilously for grip.

Riverside cliffs have trees clinging gamely to them 

Upton is a bit of a magnet for visitors with a cluster of waterside pubs – which perhaps explains why we were waved at with noisy exuberance by a few people who'd perhaps been sampling their wares for too long.
In the event we didn't stop. We tried but failed and I nearly collected an innocently moored little plastic cruiser in failing. The pontoon moorings were full (we could have breasted up but I don't like inflicting Seadog Brian's yapping on others. It's bad enough that we have to put up with his high pitched 'separation anxiety' let alone anyone else!). Then I tried (twice - the cruiser nearly copped it first time) to moor by the town steps, only to find the first step was under water, leaving us a wet 18 inches from dry land. 'Do you want to stop?' I called to Harrywoman in the bows. 'Do you think I've got webbed feet or something?' she responded in an acid tone. It was one of those moments of husband-wife tension that seem an integral element of boating. You can feel the electricity in the air when you pass someone's boat where one has just occured. So can Brian, of course, so he joined in with some merry high decibel yapping of a particularly ear splitting style. And nearly found himself cast adrift!!

The barge fleet runs just a brief two mile trip between two gravel wharves

A big passenger barge was one of the few on the water today

Anyway, failure here condemned us to another half a dozen chilly miles. We passed a gravel wharf where four barges were tied up: oddly, these seem to run on just a short, two mile route between here and a second wharf down river. We also met a large passenger barge heading upstream, one of only three or four craft on a perhaps understandably quiet river.
Past yet another of Telford's trademark beauties, the iron bridge at Mythe, we ignored the entrance to the River Avon and Tewkesbury – we're saving that for the return trip – and entered the enormous Upper Lode Lock, the last before Gloucester. Having admitted we were first timers, he lowered down a bucket of leaflets about the Docks and the correct procedure for entering the Lock there – and avoiding ending up on the weir instead.
After Upper Lode, the river suddenly decided to become bad tempered and developed choppy waves a couple of feet high – high enough enough at times for the spray as one hit the deck to be seen over the roof. It is tidal as far as here at Spring tides but this was not the time of a  Spring tide so maybe it was just disliking the cold harsh wind as much as us.
Still no mooring for us though. The pontoons were full again at Lower Lode but, finally, a mile further, there was an empty pontoon at The Yew Tree Inn. It's not the most handsome looking pub but when you're freezing cold and eager for a pie and a pint, any pub is a good pub. Except one that closes on Sunday nights! At least the landlady let us stay overnight so here we are and nicely warmed by a couple of Harrywoman's speciality – 'steamed treacle pudding in a cup'.