Windbelle’s adventures on the Kennet and Avon

The September before last, my daughter Ruth and I decided to try taking Windbelle on a canal holiday as a change from the very modest sailing we do on the Exe. The original plan was to travel along the Kennet and Avon canal from Hilperton, near Trowbridge, via Bath to Bristol. Preparation consisted of buying four large fenders and providing spikes for mooring alongside the canal bank at night. We bought a new spare wheel for the trailer and made sure that the wheel, a hydraulic jack and some wooden blocks were accessible for emergencies. The car, a 1.6 litre, Ford Escort automatic, is perfect for trailing and sprints up short hills with ease. It pants a bit on long ones. I can’t quite believe the “tows with a Morris Minor” claim.

For towing, and since they would not be needed on the canal, we stripped the boat of her mast, spars and sails. The oars were a necessity as was the outboard motor, which travelled in the car to lighten the towing load. Over the previous year I had rebuilt the trailer. The original Longbridge trailer, costing £37.10s.0d. had rusted away after many years of launches. The new one weighs exactly 200 lbs, but cost rather more than £37. 50.

The 90-mile run from South Devon to Hilperton Marina was accomplished without incident. On earlier trips, a puncture has meant emergency dashes for a new tyre.

Hilperton Marina has a new slipway. The manager, Brian Gibbs, allowed us to park the car and trailer nearby and sold us the necessary British Waterways Board permit, both at very reasonable charges. Launching down the slipway was easy with no tides or wind to worry about and the boat loaded up for the three-day trip.

The lack of space aboard a Potter and the lack of all but the most primitive sanitation limits cruising range, but at least alongside a canal there are compensations. We soon abandoned trying to use the camping Gaz stove in the cockpit. It was far easier and safer, simply to put it ashore on the bank. Fresh food kept well in the lockers under the bunks. Meals were carefully chosen for single-burner cooking. Rice, pasta or noodles were cooked first and kept warm while the curry or sauce was heated.

The boat came with a very large, brown pram-type tent which covered the whole cockpit on alloy hoops. It must have been intended for inland use. No-one could ever have need of such a contraption at sea. It proved very useful, doubling the size of the accommodation, and allowing room to dress and wash outside the confines of the cabin which was really relegated to daytime storage and sleeping. All our meals were taken in the cockpit and the tent, which was made of plastic and tended to suffer from condensation, was folded away before breakfast.

Toilet arrangements were somewhat basic. The best solution on a canal trip was the nearest pub or tree. I had rebuilt one of the stern lockers to contain a bucket for night-time use. On sea and estuary trips there is another bucket under one of the bunks in the cabin.

On the first evening a short trial trip established that going east was not a good idea because the canal is full of weed that instantly fouled our outboard propeller which is far higher in the water than a narrowboat’s. We also found that the rudder was nothing but a nuisance in the cockpit and, since the boat steered perfectly well on the motor, we left it behind in the boot of the car.

Windbelle is powered by a 3 hp Yamaha Malta engine. It was generally too powerful for the canal’s low speed limits, but runs quietly, which is just as well on the peaceful canals. Fuel consumption worked out at 7 litres for 81/3 engine hours. The fuel is kept on the foredeck in a specially constructed locker, along with the funnel for filling the tiny integral tank, a job which was frequently needed. We never keep fuel in the cockpit for obvious reasons.

To make steering a little easier the standard arm of the Yamaha was extended by a short piece of plastic pipe and a wooden handle which gave better direction and throttle control. Visibility proved to be best sitting up on the transom.

Our estimate of the distance we could cover was wildly out. The canal was an extremely slow way to travel and, in three days, we got no further than to Bath and back. However, slow travel has its compensations. The Kennet and Avon passes through deep wooded valleys between quiet meadows fringed with willows and across glories of the Industrial Revolution such as the Dundas Aqueduct. There is Bradford-on-Avon to visit, with its Saxon church, tithe barn and lock-up on the bridge. There are cosy pubs, such as the George at Bathampton, where you can moor alongside and have supper if you can afford the prices.

The canal follows the contour lines along the side of the spectacular Limpley Stoke valley as it approaches Bath and all of a sudden you round a bend to see the Georgian terraces and the abbey laid out below you; surely one of the most unusual views of that lovely city.

You can stay for 48 hours at the top lock. A footpath takes you down to the centre of Bath, a short walk away. We only stayed for the morning in Bath. It was late September, and although we had had dry, sunny autumnal weather up to then, a fine drizzle made cruising less attractive in an open cockpit. Six locks lay between us and our original goal of Bristol, including the alarming prospect of the 20’ Bath Deep Lock, and we decided to turn back.

There is only one lock, at Bradford-on-Avon between Bath and Hilperton, which was the first we had ever tackled. A crew of at least two is necessary. One to handle the boat through the lock, with the aid of a pair of 15 metre warps, and the other to manage the paddles and gates.

The gates are very heavy and on the way back, Ruth enlisted the help of a party of Naval airmen to get us through the lock. They opened the paddles with such speed that the water flooded in like a raging torrent, but Windbelle is a sea boat and just bobbed happily about in the foaming white water like a duck. What we did not relish, and managed to avoid, was going into a lock with one of those monster steel narrowboats.

Our journey back to Hilperton was enlivened by an angry male swan, protecting his territory. He took an instant dislike to small, white Windbelle and pursued us evilly, hissing, puffing up his neck and fixing us with his hostile, beady, black eye. We turned off the engine, which seemed to enrage him all the more, and rowed frantically, but silently, out of his patch of the canal. An oar was kept at the ready in case he tried to board us.

Recovery of Windbelle back onto her trailer was easy and our journey back home down the M5 was without incident. But interesting though the experimental trip was, we were left wondering slightly what it is that people see in canals. Give us the salt air and wide open spaces of the Exe estuary any day.