It turns out that our management contract for the boat included contents insurance, so assuming the deductible is not that big we should be able to get some money for the stuff that was stolen. Alex and Clive are also working on a way to improve the security of the locking system, so we will soon have that sorted.

Today was a monster day for locks. First the Delph locks, a flight of nine. Here Paula demonstrates the technique for closing the far lock gate from the middle of the lock, avoiding having to walk around the far end of the lock.

This involves balancing precariously on top of a lock gate ten feet above disgusting canal water and pushing really hard against the opposite gate. It’s not too bad if the gates have a handrail, as these do, but the second flight we did today, the sixteen lock Stourbridge flight, did not, so this handy technique did not work. There were a lot of trips back to the other end of the lock to cross on the other lock gate. Paula and I traded off, and a friendly local turned called Jim up and helped us down the flight by setting up all the locks for us.

The locks in this area have a special security key to stop some yob coming along, opening the paddles on all the lock gates, and draining the canal just for fun. We do not have one of these keys, so it’s a good job that Jim did. I need to pick one up from a marina tomorrow. Anyhow, twenty five locks for the day, which I think is a new record for us.

We passed several coot nests today, floating like bundles of garden refuse in the canal.
The canal system is getting overgrown enough without these avian ne’er do wells setting up shanty towns to clog up the navigation. They should go back to the rivers where they came from. We don’t need their sort around here.

We turned up a side branch of the canal after the lockstravaganza, and moored near Stourbridge for the night. Though it’s still part of the West Midlands conurbation, it retains some of its character as an old market town.

Apparently the people of Stourbridge trust their tattoos to someone who thinks that there is an apostrophe in “Walk-ins”.

Sad, very sad.