I should add that we both fell in love with narrowboating back in 1997 when we were holidaying around the country by car. Seeing the canal at Oxford, we decided to follow part of its course to Birmingham. It must be over forty years since I read LTC Rolt's 'Narrowboat', but the names of the towns were firmly wedged in my memory. So
there we were sitting at a table in the beer garden of the Admiral Nelson, watching the boats locking up and down through lock no. 3 that we thought 'wouldn't that be a great way to get around the countryside'. Well it is; and with a little deja vu, we locked up through the Braunston Six and came face to face with the yawning mouth of Braunston Tunnel.
Now this is not the first tunnel that we have been through, but apart from the Newbold, is the first that we have to negotiate two way traffic. Personally I like the slam of the garage door behind you in the Harecastle or the friendly green lights of the Foulridge, realising that there is not going to be a boat coming the other way.
It is interesting to see how much the bank has collapsed at the entrance to the tunnel, but there is still plenty of room to slip into the darkness without bumping the sides.
Ha! but not for long! Whichever god granted me my eyesight must have suffered from gross moral turpitude; given that I can see enough to make life wonderful, but not enough to negotiate a 60ft boat in suddenly changing light conditions. To put it mildly, with Nerus following, I whanged into the side about 100 yards in. Jeeves was furious and took over the tiller until we were near the end. Thank god for that!
At least we didn't
have to pass any boats that day - more on this subject later.
After the tunnel, we made another early stop so that the stalwart lock-wheelers were ready for the Bucky flight the next day. And Whew! Apart from the passage through the tunnel, it was getting to be awfully tropic.
there we were sitting at a table in the beer garden of the Admiral Nelson, watching the boats locking up and down through lock no. 3 that we thought 'wouldn't that be a great way to get around the countryside'. Well it is; and with a little deja vu, we locked up through the Braunston Six and came face to face with the yawning mouth of Braunston Tunnel.Now this is not the first tunnel that we have been through, but apart from the Newbold, is the first that we have to negotiate two way traffic. Personally I like the slam of the garage door behind you in the Harecastle or the friendly green lights of the Foulridge, realising that there is not going to be a boat coming the other way.
It is interesting to see how much the bank has collapsed at the entrance to the tunnel, but there is still plenty of room to slip into the darkness without bumping the sides.
Ha! but not for long! Whichever god granted me my eyesight must have suffered from gross moral turpitude; given that I can see enough to make life wonderful, but not enough to negotiate a 60ft boat in suddenly changing light conditions. To put it mildly, with Nerus following, I whanged into the side about 100 yards in. Jeeves was furious and took over the tiller until we were near the end. Thank god for that!
At least we didn't
have to pass any boats that day - more on this subject later.After the tunnel, we made another early stop so that the stalwart lock-wheelers were ready for the Bucky flight the next day. And Whew! Apart from the passage through the tunnel, it was getting to be awfully tropic.
Looking back at the exit of the tunnel, one wonders how effective the ventilation shafts are - well they are pretty good for dropping a curtain of water on the steerer anyway.
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