The Grand Tour: Big Finish

Day 22: Kingston to Brentford:

When last we left our hero she was moored in Kingston upon Thames with an impromptu support group of two other boats, all of us nervously awaiting the next morning’s trip through Teddington Lock. The entrance from the Thames back into the Grand Union Canal, is about five miles downstream of Teddington at Brentford Lock, meaning an hour or two of travel on the tidal part of the river Thames. Until Teddington, water levels and flow is controlled by the series of locks I’d travelled through, with accompanying weirs alongside.

The weirs regulate the water level along the river, locks allow boats to navigate past them.

Teddington is the last downstream lock on the Thames, meaning that after Teddington the water level rises and falls with the tide. The force of the tide ebbing and flowing can be substantial so for a small, flat-bottomed, and relatively under-powered narrowboat to have a hope of navigating the distance between Teddington and Brentford in a controlled fashion travel must be timed precisely with the tides. Going downstream, the recommendation is to leave Teddington half an hour before high tide (over what’s sometimes called slack water) when the tide is about to turn. As the water starts to fall, the current helps push the boat along. Leaving too early means very slow progress as the boat’s engine tries to “punch against the tide” and leaving too late means your speed at the entrance to Brentford lock will make it difficult to turn without being pulled too far downstream with the current. If you miss the turn into Brentford, the next (and only other) entrance to the canal system is the lock far downstream at Limehouse, and the amount of time it would take to get there means you’d be attempting that notoriously difficult turn in very unfavourable tide conditions. Next stop after that is, errr, Margate. Or possibly Dunkirk. Needless to say, I was a bit anxious about this whole procedure.

Luckily I had assistance in the form of the return of Day One’s able crew - Jeremy and Paola. They’re both experienced sailors so I thought they’d be ideal companions, and they were. We made the short hop from my Kingston mooring to the lock with ease and tied up along with several other narrowboats, all of whom were waiting for the tide to make the run to Brentford, each with a different level of apprehension about the manoeuvre. Adding to the confusion, the Experienced Guy I’d met the day before had been planning to leave at 11:20am, having devised a spreadsheet that calculated optimum times based on the tide tables. However, the lock keeper at Teddington firmly recommended 12:20pm, based on high water being at 12:50. It gradually became clear that the hour’s difference was a miscalculation between UTC (which is used on tide tables) and British Summer Time, and that Experienced Guy was going to need to revise his spreadsheet. We settled in to wait, chatting and passing the time until seven of us made for the lock at about 12:20.

Here are the front four of a flotilla of narrowboats in Teddington lock. Lucky Nickel was bang in the middle of the pack, which was ideal.

Once we exited the lock, the boats spread out into a long chugging line. The trip was largely uneventful, though we did have to keep a close eye out for other craft, especially rowers, who have the disadvantage of not looking where they're going, and of being very wide and a bit unwieldy. There was also the usual ration of river cruisers, kayaks, dragon boats, stand-up paddleboards and RIBs, all of which I managed to avoid. Jeremy cleverly started up his chart plotter app, which gave a continuous readout of our speed so we had a good sense of how fast the tide was turning. My average speed on Lucky Nickel is normally about 2.5 mph, reaching a top speed of 4mph with a slight current on the regatta course at Henley. Riding the tide on the Thames we reached blistering 5 knots, or 5.7 mph. And of course Jeremy and Paola were perfect companions, having used the waiting time at the lock to gather some food supplies, so all I had to do was sit at the tiller, be fed, and have my picture taken.

Like here, passing under Richmond Bridge.

Despite the lock keeper's estimate that the trip would be 45 minutes to an hour long, we were on the river for close to two hours before approaching the entrance to Brentford Lock. Frustratingly, the inlet is not sign-posted at all and is also hairpin turn due to the angle at which the River Brent meets the Thames coming downstream. We were all on high alert, with Jeremy spotting in the bow. We also had the advantage of seeing the boats in front of us start their turns. This, however, did not lessen my anxiety as we approached what I think was the most stressful left-turn of my life.

Of course it turned out fine. I started my manouevre quite early, having seen at least one of the leading boats take a very wide turn that looked a bit late. With Jeremy gesticulating from the bow and pointing out landmarks ("The big silver sculpture is on THE OTHER SIDE of the channel." Critical information.) I edged tight around the turn, coming very close the the upstream wall, but finally clearing easily and gratefully into the passage. Mission accomplished!

Success!

And here's a screenshot of the GPS track for the Scariest Left Hand Turn. Not bad.

We edged up to the bottom of Brentford Lock and waited while the first boats were cycled up and through. And I watched and waved and cheered as my nervous Kingston mates each appeared around the corner until all were safely gathered in. In the end it was not all that difficult, though I was very pleased to have had a spotter to help guide me in and provide moral support the whole way.

Looking towards at the bottom gates of Brentford Lock, closing me off from the river - back in the loving embrace of the Grand Union Canal at last. Upstream parts of the river were fun, but the further downstream I got, the more stressful it was. It's really really nice to be back.

We moored not long after, exactly where I moored after the boat's first trip through Brentford lock back in 2014. It seemed fitting, and I was in no mood for more locks. I was in the mood to celebrate!

And celebrate we did. Properly!

Relieved skipper

And trusty crew

It was a good day, but despite the momentousness of the occasion, I wasn't quite finished.

Day 23: Brentford to Home

I had hoped to recruit a crew for the last day, which involved going up the Hanwell flight of eight locks, but I was utterly unsuccessful in that attempt, meaning the last day of the trip would be a single-handed journey of six miles and ten locks. Perhaps it was fitting I finish on my own. I slept in, had a slap-up breakfast and set off.

Here's the boat patiently waiting for me to prepare a lock, while paddleboarders frolic nearby.

The day's travel was smooth but long. Luckily, there was a fair bit of foot traffic on the towpath, so sometimes I got a bit of help from passers-by. And then part way up the flight I ran into a man out for the afternoon with his young son, who was fascinated with the locks and the boat. The pair stayed with me through at least four locks, helping work the gates and chatting while the shy little boy was quietly educated about the workings of locks.

Here's my crew waiting by a gate paddle while the lock fills. They were just lovely. I even gave them a short ride on the boat between locks, which I was assured by Dad would be the highlight of the day, or possibly his entire life to date, for the little guy.

The Hanwell flight is interesting because several of its locks once used side ponds, which you can still see today. Side ponds are a way of conserving water by diverting the water draining from a lock into a nearby reservoir so that it can be used to partially refill the lock.

Explained well, if not exactly excitingly, in this video.

And here's a set of side paddles overlooking a very overgrown side pond. Clearly they are no longer in use.

The other cool site on this part of the canal is Three Bridges, a spot where the canal threads between a roadway above and a rail line below. This was the last big project of GSWPL hero and frequent blog subject Isambard Kingdom Brunel, who engineered how the rail line was inserted under the existing canal and roadway.

Taken from the roadway, you can see the canal on the left, which passes over the rail line in an iron trough.

I made it to the top of the Hanwell flight by about 4:30, finally completing the last of 175 locks on the trip.

Hanwell top lock! Number 90 on the system, completed 23 days after lock 89 at Cowley Peachey.

And then it was just a few miles to the turn at Bull's Bridge onto the Paddington Arm of the canal and I was back in very familiar territory. A short hop later and I arrived back at the marina and moored up. Job done.

This is the summary of the trip from Canalplan.eu, which I used extensively throughout the trip to estimate travel times from place to place. It was invaluable.

I didn't mention it at the time, but I made a purchase at a little shop at the bottom of the last flight of locks up to Braunston. You often see boats with small oval plaques fastened to the inside of their back doors. The cast metal and enamel medallions are just four inches across and feature the names of prominent canal landmarks or waterways. They're meant to signify that the boat to which the plaque is affixed has navigated that particular feature. Some denote particular tunnels or aqueducts or notable flights of locks, some whole systems like the Kennet & Avon Canal, and some are for what are called cruising rings - a circular route traveling a series of canals starting and ending at the same point. I have just completed the Thames Ring - going from London up the Grand Union to Braunston, down the Oxford Canal to the Thames, and along the river back to the Grand Union at Brentford. It seemed like tempting fate while I was standing looking at the display of plaques at Boat Shop near Braunston. But I did it anyway, though I worried outloud to the shopkeeper that I might be jinxing myself by buying the plaque before completing the journey. He thoughtfully tucked the item into an opaque envelope, taped it shut, and told me to hide it away until I finished.

And now I'm finished, I think it's time to put this up. (I'm also particularly chuffed that of all the Cruising Ring plaques I can see online, this journey is the longest by quite a margin.) (And I know this says 248 miles and my summary says 246. It's because I started counting slightly after I left the marina. Rest assured I really did those first two miles as well.)

Now I'm enjoying a few days at the marina resting and blogging and catching up on laundry and all the life admin tasks I've been ignoring for the last three weeks. (Hello 2018-19 taxes!) However, I think I'll be back out again soon. As my fellow Aden Bowman alum said, "I've got the urge for going." I'm more confident in myself and the boat than I've ever been, so while the Grand Tour might be finished, Lucky Nickel still has plenty of places to go. And Astute Go Stay Work Play Live Readers may just get to come along for some of it.