There Once Was a Ship that Put to Sea

Stuart Wood came to meet us on Friday morning at 7.45am, having already put in his order for a bacon butty which I duly provided (he prefers smoked). It doesn’t do to upset the pilot and Stuart is quite the one. I did some research on him. When he retired after 41 years service he was the Head Mersey river pilot, so we couldn’t have been in better hands.

Brunswick Dock Lock is massive when you’re in it. It has a lift bridge, which totally unnecessarily raised for us, and huge semi circular iron lock gates which open before the water has equalised, so the hydraulics must be incredibly powerful. Of course that makes life more turbulent than it has to be for a few seconds, just the thing for the nervous helmsman staring out onto the vast width of the River Mersey.

Then we were underway, the engine at 1800 revs from the off. That blew the cobwebs out. The breeze was gentle and there was some movement, but mostly it just felt vast and alien. The Rivers Thames and Severn don’t come anywhere near the Mersey estuary for scale.

After a while we turned right into the Eastham Channel, flying along while Stuart kept up a commentary on what we were seeing, The Royal Mersey Yacht Club, the vast landholdings of Unilever, coal stores, warehouses, pubs, and slipways. We passed a sand barge with a seal sunning himself at the stern, but I was too preoccupied trying to keep Beau Romer going in the right direction to grab a photo.

All too soon Eastham Locks came into view. I saw a big ship in the lock and thought that was where we were headed, but no, we pulled into its neighbour, equally enormous. They made us tie on fore and aft and we needed the 15m lines required by the seaworthiness certificate. This is boating on a much grander scale than we are used to on the canals. Stuart unsuccessfully attempted to teach me how to tie a bowline while we waited for the lock, but my fingers just won’t do it. It brought back all those memories of doing my firefighter’s badge in the St John Ambulance many decades ago!

The Manchester Ship Canal is wide and benign. It was cut in the 1840s so the wealthy Manchester merchants didn’t have to pay the extortionate fees demanded by the Port of Liverpool. Stuart told us it took 6 years to construct, with the navvies setting up communites on the route. At one place they had to dig through solid sandstone and the spoil exists today as Mount Manisty, apparently a haven for birdlife.

We arrived at Ellesmere Port lower basin at 10.30 am, quite a speedy run apparently, and over too soon. And there we sat, tied to the lock entrance until 3.30 pm. There is a swing bridge across the lock into the upper basin owned by the council, and no-one was available to open it until then. As I was working for a local authority until recently I don’t suppose I’d better say anything disparaging about that!

Would I do it again? Yes, in a heartbeat. You have to be quite determined, there’s a lot to co-ordinate to make the unconventional run from Salthouse Docks to Ellesmere Port across the River Mersey, and it’s not cheap. Stuart was a marvel and we wouldn’t have entertained doing it without him and his knowledge. It’s an exhilarating voyage we never thought we would get to experience, especially not in a narrowboat. It’s about as far as shuffling down a muddy ditch in a tin bath as you can you can get.