We’d always been a bit put off by the Basingstoke Canal: apart from some past Easter Rallys at Woking there never seemed to be any boats around when we passed by or over; and it often looked a bit weed infested or overgrown. We’d hear the stories about lack of water, low pounds and subsequent closures, and seen that to go anywhere you needed to book a passage through the various lock flights in advance (not really our style of boating). All a bit intimidating, really. So even a few days before arriving at Thames Lock we weren’t sure how we’d get on, or even if we would make it.

The reality was quite different. The people from Basingstoke Canal Authority (a strange Hampshire & Surrey County Council hybrid who run the canal), the Basingstoke Canal Society (who did most of the restoration and help keep it in good condition) and the Basingstoke Canal Boat Club (who represent the interests of boaters) were all friendly, enthusiastic, and happy to accommodate the Captain’s lack of planning.

We never went aground in any meaningful manner, the locks (although plentiful and all at one end) were pretty vice-less, and by and large much better maintained than those on most of the Canal and River Trust canals. The Rangers / Lock Keepers went out of their way to be helpful, and all in all it was a lovely and drama free trip. The rally and other festivities at Odiham were just the icing on the cake. We’re really glad we made the effort.

As most of the canal is a wildlife haven (we even saw deer in the daytime in several places),  and the water supply at the summit is limited, there is apparently a restriction on the annual number of passages up and down the canal, but at the moment the number of actual visitors doesn’t come anywhere close. That said, mooring – apart from those few but well sited spots specifically set up as mooring sites – is problematical. If numbers increase then more will be needed.

There’s a widely held perception (by boaters, who pay to use the canals), that the Canal and River Trust are more interested in walkers, cyclists and wildlife (who don’t pay anything) than boating and maintaining the navigation. The most frequent comment from passers by on the Basingstoke Canal at locks and on the towpath was “Oh, it’s so nice to see boats actually using the canal, we hardly ever see any”.  Food for thought for CaRT perhaps… particularly given the rumours that Surrey and Hampshire Councils might like them to take over the running from the Canal Authority.

Underestimating the distance, and despite an awfully early Sunday morning coming down start, we arrived with no Ranger/Lock Keeper in sight, but the padlocks were unlocked, and we weren’t expecting any company, so off we went in the cold wind and rain. The Ranger shortly appeared, said we could leave all the lock gates open as someone was coming up (hurrah) and “did you hear about Snail O’Wey?”

Seems that between locks 1 and 2 on Saturday afternoon they had shed their prop, which kind of slows progress down a bit! River and Canal Rescue (the canal equivalent of the AA or RAC) had declined to attend as “it was an accident not a breakdown” which seems a bit mean. They managed to locate the lost propeller but were unable to refit it, and were unceremoniously bow-hauled through the bottom lock by hand. On the Sunday morning someone from the nearby Byfleet Boat Club had arrived and towed them down to the Club’s base on the Wey.

Working slowly down the locks in a single boat (one of those times when even one extra crew member makes a huge difference) there were quite a few Sunday morning runners and dog walkers out, despite the miserable weather.

Turning South onto the Wey, we soon passed the wounded Sail O’Wey at the boat club: the skipper reckoned that pulling all the jute sacking out on the Deepcut flight on Friday might have dislodged/removed the split pin that keeps the prop from falling off. Let’s hope they get sorted out quickly.

Not far down the Wey comes the well known and popular Anchor at Pyrford Lock, immediately opposite Pyrford Marina. Mooring up for a while, the place was still busy with Sunday lunches, but a look at the washing mountain and the next few days’ weather forecast suggested the best plan was to see if the marina could put us somewhere for a couple of nights, with an electric shoreline.

And sure enough, it’s been cold and very windy: definitely not weather to be boating. Even moored up in the sheltered marina, the boat’s been blowing around in the wild weather. And come Tuesday afernoon, it’s still so windy and gusty, and forecast to remain so for another twelve hours despite the rain stopping, that we’re staying put for another night.

2nd of June, and the weather’s more like October in the Hebrides…

In order to preserve the precious water levels, passage up and down the Basingstoke Locks is strictly controlled. We’d booked to go down the 17 Deepcut and Brookwood locks on the Friday morning, when the weather forecast was, err, disappointing.

Stopping at the Mytchett Canal Centre to check our booking, whether we were going to expect anyone else travelling down – there was – and to say goodbye to the nice people who had made  the canal such a pleasant experience, we moored up at Frimley Lodge Park and had an excellent meal in The Old Wheatsheaf, about 10 minutes walk away.

It’s much easier going down wide locks with a second boat/crew, and as expected, David and Kay in Snail O’Wey  hove into view at 9:00. Even though each boat had two crew, it’s still a slow process, particularly as the weather was rapidly living up to the rubbish forecast.

With a brief break on about the third lock for Snail O’Wey’s captain to disappear down the weed hatch and haul out what looked like a jute sack from around his prop (the reason he was going nowhere fast!), the weather was getting wetter and windier, but the Deepcut locks are relatively sheltered. Halfway down we luckily declared a coffee break just as the skies opened with a vengeance, and by the time we reached the bottom of Brookwood Locks the sun was peering out as we moored up at Brookwood Lye for a late lunch, wet, tired and relieved that the worst was over.

Our companions went on to moor at St. Johns with a “see you tomorrow morning”, as we were both due to go down the Goldsworth Locks on the Saturday morning, then Fran coaxed a local friend to pick her up and whip home to collect the mail and some food for Sir.

Sunday was the day of the boat rally, whereupon loads of people came down to the Wharf to look at the assembled boats, drink real ale, watch Morris dancers and other such pointless pursuits. More importantly, the sun shone, so Biggles could spend lots of time in the cratch area or the rear deck being admired by an adoring public.

Song & Dance was moored up between the ice cream “ferry” and the trip boats layby (where the new John Pinkerton II looked a lot smarter than its predecessor seen last year on the Kennet and Avon). The rather odd looking Taurus was pottering around all day: a small outboard motor (sort of installed inboard IYSWIM) and apparently some loudspeakers occasionally broadcasting big engine “putt putt putt” sounds. But there was nothing really to compare with the unmistakeable sound of Finch’s Bolinder engine thumping away as she arrived in style.

The “chain” ferry (more an “old rope” ferry) carrying foot passengers across to the boatyard cafe was a work of art, saving a 400 yard walk across the bridge to get an ice cream. We would have been interested to see the risk analysis documentation…

The steam launches looked most impressive, even if there was a fair amount of soot in the exhaust, and there were even boats displayed on the ground, so to speak.

The boat rally was honoured by a visit from King John, who was judging the “best dressed boat” competition, although we understand from another King John up at the Castle that this one was an imposter.

As some of the rally boats were breasted up, and hence not very visible from the towpath, an inspection from the water was necessary. We’d seen the pea green Owl & Pussy Cat moored up somewhere in the Fleet area on our way up; rather weirdly about a quarter of a mile up the canal was a Tupperware cruiser called Owl & The Pussy Cat. They seem a bit unimaginative with their boat names in Fleet…

The local canoe club played Canoe Polo, while Biggles decided that even allowing for his antipathy to dogs, this chocolate Lab was frankly nuts.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves in the sunshine, and Biggles received several visitors, including Joe (our Crofton guide from last autumn) & Sally, and several members from Jackstraws Morris who were out for the day rather than dancing.

A splendid, if rather hectic day, with the Captain winning many new admirers… thanks to the organisers for squeezing us in: more pictures can be found here and here.