Feeling adventurous, we decided to do something we’d had in mind for a long time — namely to go down the River Lune from Lancaster to Glasson and then return via the Lancaster Canal, a distance of about 12 miles. A ‘non-powered, without the use of locks’ day canal licence costs only £1 , so we opted to leave the Drascombe at home in favour of our 16’ Canadian canoe. This, with its folding trolley carried on board, can be easily heaved up and down rough banks without the need for launching ramps and cars.

11 am on 31 May (1988) found us ready to leave the slip by the boatyard at the end of St George’s Quay in Lancaster. High water was 12.07 (Barrow). We had planned to go down with the ebb, but that morning a fresh south-westerly was blowing, so we decided to go early to avoid too much of a wind-against-tide chop further downstream. The flood gate at the top of the slip was open, so we were spared having to lift the canoe over it. For the first 1½ miles to the inn at Oxcliffe, the river flows WSW. Against both wind and the rest of the flood tide we felt we were working quite hard. Near the inn a fleet of sailing dinghies appeared coming up river and landing on the west bank near the pub. We hauled ourselves ashore on the east bank for a welcome break from the paddling.

From this point the Lune turns approximately south again, which meant the wind was now more on the beam for the run down to Conder Green. It would have been more sheltered, perhaps, hugging the west bank, but we feared the situation where we might not be able to cross back to Glasson and so we stayed on the east side, crabbing along diagonally in an effort to avoid being blown ashore. Alas, there were no signs of help from the ebbing tide as yet. The dinghies re-passed us here, their rescue boat fussing up and down between them, but happily slowing down when near us, so we had no trouble with its wash. After the empty fields and salt marshes which border the Lune downstream from Lancaster, some cottages appeared with moorings, one with a Devon Yawl. Another was unoccupied until a small clinker dinghy appeared to pick it up. The skipper, having grabbed the buoy, hung on desperately while the boat charged round and round it and the two crew sat sedately amidships as if the chaos around had naught to do with them!

Conder Green lies at the mouth of the River Conder and here the Lune turns west, with Glasson on the southern shore. Crossing the broad Conder mouth we discovered the tide — in the form of lively rollers, the wind whipping their tops off. It required all our concentration to keep bow on to both. Despite their low freeboard, Hurons are surprisingly good in rough water — but not when broadside onto the seas. I wanted a photo of the approaching Glasson shore, but to stop paddling would have seen us slewing round before I could open the camera case!

We discovered that the channel had a clearly defined ‘edge’ and once out of it, the chop lessened, allowing us to prospect for a landing point. Glasson caters mainly for cruisers, with a gated outer dock and an inner canal basin, which is now occupied by a marina. Apart from a small sailing club with an immensely long and steep slip, it does not offer many concessions to the small boat sailor. On the north side, the inner basin is separated from the Lune by a car park, the road, a broad grass verge and an iron railing-topped sea wall, in that order. In the railings is a narrow gate. The sea wall slopes at about 30º down to the mud below. We loaded Little Plum onto her trolley, splashed across the glutinous mud, heaved her up the wall, through the gate and came to rest behind the only building on the grass verge — the public loos! After that, crossing the road and car park was easy and a belated lunch (and a swill down with the bailer) were enjoyed by the side of the canal basin (2 pm).

Rather aware that we had covered only 5 of the 12 miles, we were soon off again and into a ‘different world’. We were almost immediately surprised and delighted by the discovery of a coot’s nest with chicks — little black fluffy balls with red topknots. The canal was lined with yellow iris and abounded in bird life. We passed a narrow boat brightly painted: there had been a Lancaster Canal boat rally the previous weekend and this was the first of many beautiful narrow boats seen. Then the first of the six locks which grace the 2½ mile Glasson branch of the canal up to its junction with the Lancaster-Preston canal at Galgate: out of the canoe, secure it, trundle round the lock, re-launch and so on. The second lock was less than a ¼ mile from the first, so we footed that section along the towpath and re‑launched beyond.

We passed through the Galgate marina and along the back of the houses beyond before a tea break by a sunny tree lined bank. There was a little pleasure boat traffic along here, but no problems. Near Ashton Hall the canal enters a very deep, 2 mile-long cutting with thickly wooded sides, and we glided along between silent banks — at least, they would have been silent but for one berserk mallard which scuttled ahead of us quacking loudly for a mile or so.

At 6 pm we emerged into Lancaster and pulled out behind the puntmaker’s yard. The car was retrieved from a city car park where it had spent the day. A splendid day — and good value for £1!