Thursday morning sunshine saw us setting off for the rest of the journey to Froghall: slow, winding, narrow and lovely. But the height gauge at Consall Forge lock – even though known to be highly pessimistic – confirmed what we’d known all along… we were never going to get Song & Dance through Froghall Tunnel. Well, not without taking off all the cratch, filling the water tanks and finding some extra ballast somewhere. And even then, not without losing a substantial amount of the shiny new paintwork.

We were soon at the tunnel mouth, and the winding hole for cowards like us. The basin at the far side of the tunnel looked just as idyllic and inviting as before, but realistically there was no way – Andy Irvine would just have to wait until we had a traditional boat some six inches lower than Song & Dance.

We noticed that the nice wharf building had turned into a rather nice café, and someone was running a trip boat through the tunnel and up to the Black Lion. Hope it goes well with them, even if hearing the grinding and crunching as they went through the tunnel reinforced the correctness of our decision not to even try!

While partaking of coffee at the café, it seemed that the missing bits for the boat had arrived, and someone was coming out to finish off things. Scrounging a lift back to the factory to collect our car, the engineer’s SatNav took us on a lengthy but highly scenic route back to Knypersely via all sorts of high Staffordshire moorland. Coming back on the A roads was positively dull by comparison.

Dinner was taken at the recently refurbished Railway Inn, where a chance conversation elicited the fact that we were only about 6 miles from Alton Towers. The geography around here is hard to get your head round!

Saying farewell to Leek on the Wednesday morning, we soon made it to Hazelhurst Junction, where the Leek Arm and Froghall Arm come together; a tight right turn took us into the top Hazelhurst Lock, aiming for Froghall.

Letting down, we noticed something very odd about the lock gate. A prize for the first person to spot it…

And after the Leek Arm, and the three Hazelhurst locks, we arrived at The Holly Bush Inn at lunch time. It would be rude not to… Actually, it was pretty busy for a Wednesday lunchtime we thought, albeit a pleasantly warm and sunny one.

The canal follows the Churnet  Valley, a hidden gem in the moorlands while just a stone’s throw from Stoke on Trent, and before long, drops down onto the River Churnet itself.

As we were approaching Consall, we were lucky enough to find a prime mooring spot just by the Black Lion, a splendid, and splendidly isolated watering hole. With good moorings between here and Froghall being a little thin on the ground, it was definitely time to go for a Guinness,

We’d noticed on a previous visit that the pub was run mainly by chickens, but were particularly taken by this chappie, who we hadn’t seen before.

Finally saying farewell to Festival Park on Sunday morning, we headed up the Caldon Canal: Piper Boats still had some stuff to finish off (!) and we planned to stay close to the factory as the crow flies, if only because we’d left the car there. The weather was gloomy, and didn’t inspire any photographic efforts, but there are some from the previous trips here and here.

Mooring up in Milton, we discovered (again) that on Monday morning, Milton is pretty like a town on half-day closing. We did manage to stock up on some local pies and sausages though. The sky was leaking drizzle, unlike last time, when the leak was more serious. We were also expecting Pipers to come and finish off some stuff, but they’d forgotten. Ho hum.

So we headed off in dull and drizzly weather, stopped somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and ended up on Tuesday tackling the Leek Arm of the Caldon Canal: narrow, winding, overgrown and somewhat of a challenge. Fortunately, we found room to moor at the end of the arm, the sun had finally peeped out, and we spent a pleasant lunchtime and afternoon walking into and around Leek, a town that we like more each time we visit (even if the local Waitrose is closing next week).

The path from the end of the navigation into town (or Morrison’s car park, anyway) is quite long and overgrown, but runs alongside Leek Cattle Market even though you can’t see it. Judging by the noises and aromas, Tuesday is market day at Leek…

With the rush to get Song & Dance up to Piper Boats for repairs following the springtime bridge fiasco, heading off to Chippenham Festival and Sidmouth Festival while fighting insurance companies and boat surveyors, and the sad passing of our Blog’s glorious leader, updating the Blog itself has unfortunately rather taken a back seat over the summer.

We’re now back afloat, currently on the Caldon Canal between Stoke and Leek, in the drizzly rain, with no immediate plan in mind apart from chilling out for a while, and no Captain to guide us. Normal service for the Blog will be resumed forthwith, and back-filled in due course, if only for our own reference. Here’s hoping for a pleasant couple of months doing not a lot!

Setting off for (eventually) Stoke-on-Trent on Thursday morning, the first exercise was to climb up the Claydon flight of locks just North of Cropredy. Although reasonably familiar, two things immediately became clear: the sun might have been shining, but the strong gusty wind was decidedly chilly. The last time we came this way we had overcast snows and skies, so no complaints, I guess.

They’d also managed a rather better repair on the locks. And after eight locks uphill, we made good time in the sunny weather, and trundled along most of the long and winding road – sorry – pound to get within easy reach of Marston Doles and the eight Napton locks back down again.

Last time, the weather was so miserable that we took the best part of three days to get back down to the level of the Napton Junction, but this time, despite the Baltic cross wind, we zoomed past the water buffalos and found ourselves at Napton Bottom Lock in plenty of time on Friday to have a mid-afternoon Guinness at The Folly Inn, and book a table for dinner: it’s always – justifiably – busy, especially at weekends.

Tomorrow, the Grand Union and Braunston beckon, then the North Oxford Canal.

Safely tucked up in Cropredy Marina, albeit still feeling rather discombobulated after our fun and games over the weekend, we cracked on with the plan, a day late. Tuesday morning dawned bright and sunny for once, and at crack of sparrows we bade adieu to the Captain, jumped in the car and headed off down the M40 to Ruislip Crematorium.

With a mother the youngest of six, and hence countless elderly Aunts, Uncles and Cousins in the area, the FO of the Song & Dance crew had been here far too many times but thought those days were passed. However, our friend Mark who lived near Heathrow had died in March. Pretty much estranged from his family, and always an intensely private chap, we and some other friends had spent considerable time and effort sorting things out before finally managing to track down his mother and brothers, who gladly took over arrangements, to our relief.

As is invariably the case at such funerals, there’s the sadness in the passing of a friend of many decades standing, coupled with the happiness of meeting up again with old friends that one hasn’t seen in years (or even decades). Reunited, albeit belatedly, with his family, he was given a good send off.

Heading back up the M40, we were soon back at the boat, and after another day doing loads of laundry, raiding the large Banbury Tesco superstore, doing boatwork, and generally preparing things for the off, we were ready to start out on our 2017 cruise proper. Somewhat glad – in the circumstances – that we had arranged to go via Stoke-on-Trent and Piper Boats, who could look at the issues involved in restoring Song & Dance to a more suitable carriage for the Captain, we girded our loins for insurance company fun and games.

(Photo credits: Carly Gunn)