American Peregrinations.

Hello again ... rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Although visiting President Trump's United States might be considered somewhat foolhardy, it is hardly (yet) a death-defying action. However; Lyn and I have, indeed, just returned from a 6-week peregrination on the North East part of that country. I failed to be in contact with anyone who professed to be a supporter of the current president; and certainly did not meet anyone who confessed to actually casting a ballot in his favour. But; enough of mundanities ... "What of your tour?" I hear you enquire, with bated breath. (That's your breath being bated, not mine.) Well ... the whole trip went swimmingly, and both Lyn and I believe it to have been a resounding success. Audiences were pleasingly enthusiastic. CD and songbook sales were satisfying by the sheer volume of such. Best of all were the numbers of wonderful friends with whom we reconnected ... that was really great! One overarching downside of the trip was our camera. It probably didn't enjoy the experience as much as we did ... it was never allowed out of the suitcase in which it travelled!!! (At this point you may feel that there is a distinct lack of visuals upcoming in this issue of 'Peregrinations'. Well ... yes ... that's probably going to be the case.)

We commenced by taking a National Express coach (that’s a bus; to non-Brits) from Warwick to Heathrow airport, and Virgin Atlantic to Newark (New Jersey) LIBERTY Airport. Concealing from the U.S. Customs and Border Protection agent that we were transporting an accordion, we gained entry into the (soon to be great again) USA. Our good friends, and Float to the Festival alumni (henceforth, I shall refer to such folks, generically, as ‘canallees’) Ann Gribbon and Pat McDonnell collected us and whisked us to their home near Princeton, N.J. Wonderful, relaxing hosts for a couple of jet-lagged travellers! 48 hours later the performing part of the tour commenced – in 92 degree heat – with the Princeton Folk Music Society ... just me and the bat flitting around the church. I was not flitting, you understand?

The next morning (Saturday) we were off – driving our Hertz rental car – 135 miles N.E. to Branford. CT. On our very first professional tour, it was the Branford Folk Music Society which reversed our depression and gave us the confidence to make this folk-singing sort of life, work. Thanks Willa. Thanks Marc. (Both canallees!) In this case they turned up trumps (no political connotation intended) again.

Next morning, we were on the road, 273 miles S.W., to Baltimore, MD. and a concert for the Baltimore Folk Music Society. This was in the aptly named: Lovely Lane Church; scene of a previous concert triumph! On that occasion, the huge audience came – I feel – more for the opening act: The Seldom Scene; than for me. This time the audience was appreciably smaller, but my reception was just as warm and enthusiastic as that of many years ago. Indeed; quite a few professed to have been in that audience. Our lodgings that night were with Susan Greshens and Mark Wolfire. Not – for a wonder – canallees, but gracious hosts, for all that.

For the fourth morning in a row (Monday), we headed out. This time a mere 80 miles South, to the Calvert Marine Museum, on Solomons Island, MD. ... a lovely place to play.



Many old friends; and quite a few new ones; turned out, so we felt that the tour was off to an auspicious – if slightly tiring – start.

The next day found us in the home of our friend - and sort of booking agent – Janie Meneeley; in Silver Springs, MD.; barely a few yards north of Washington, DC. Incidentally; Janie has now purchased a home in Whitby (yes, the Yorkshire, Whitby); wherein she is cosying up with Rob van Sante, of Battlefield Band fame. (You heard it first here, folks!)

With still three festivals and five more concerts on which to report, I can sense that I could easily bore you; so at this point, I’ll engage the ‘précis drive’.

Gottagetgon is a small, relaxed festival; organised by the Albany, NY. group: The Pick'n' ‘n Sing'n' Gather'n'; most of whom are old, treasured friends ... like Rosalie and Greg Clarke. Of course, quite a few are also – you’ve guessed it – canallees! It was old home week; as we’ve not seen many of those folks for far too long.

The (38th.) annual Sea Music Festival, at Mystic Seaport, CT. assembled a stellar cast of musicians of the maritime genre, including my old friends from Australia: the Roaring Forties.

The final festival, in Altamont, NY., is the long-running: Old Songs festival, the biggest in North America still paying attention to 'traditionally oriented music and song', and had lots of performers; including Archie Fisher.

It also had an inordinate number of canallees ... FOURTEEN in all!

T



Add to all the above, concerts in Boston, MA, Yorktown, VA. (with Bob Zentz ,,, HOORAY!), Washington, DC., Philadelphia, PA. and Havre-de-Grace, MD.; and we saw a lot of American freeways before we made the return flight to the U.K. Successful? Certainly ... but poignant too. Who knows when we’ll do it again? Never say never!

We’re off on the cut again - to do some exploring in the more obscure backwaters of the Birmingham Canal Navigations - but we’ll get the camera out; so the next issue of ‘Peregrinations’ will – I promise – have more pictures! Cheers.

Peregrinations 3.1

If this is 'old age', then I'm getting very lazy in it. For the past couple of weeks; since my birthday; we - Lyn and I - have been (what might be observed as) drifting aimlessly along the Staffordshire and Worcestershire (pronounced: Woostershire) Canal, the River Severn, the Droitwich Canal, and the Worcester (pronounced: Wooster) and Birmingham Canal. We are feeling quite indolent and smug. (INDOLENT AND SMUG ... sounds like a firm of 'Financial Advisors'!)

Anyway ... the birthday train-trip went wonderfully well; viz (images of we two, plus our daughter: Jane; plus our son-in-law: Max)

(Birthday) Dinner Is Served!

That's Max - our hair-cutter and son-in-law - in the middle ... 

... and that's Jane: our wonderful (and only) daughter
 ... sitting next to him.

Here's the star of the show ...
whilst down at the other end is ...
"Loco Fireman is m' grade, boilin' water is m' trade.
The Driver thinks he runs the show,
but if I'm not there, the train won't go."

Look at that smile - Lyn's as well as mine - it's been a birthday to remember!

Now we're meandering to Warwick, where Moonstone will await our return from those, there United States of America. Lazily yours ... Tom.

Watery Peregrinations - year three.

Hello again. Here we are at the beginning of our third summer, cruising the waterways of England and Wales. The plan is (remember the First Rule ... 'A Plan Is A Basis For Orderly Change') for us to conclude this stage of our peregrinations at our house - and mooring - in Shipley. That's in The People's Republic of West Yorkshire! That being said; one would assume that the politics of Shipley would be on the left of the political spectrum ... so why is its local Member of Parliament a Tory??? Who knows, 2018 might occasion a spurt in my own, personal, political activism.

Mind you: being already rather jaundiced with 'Brexit Britain'; next year might find these reports coming from the waterways of the Republic of Ireland! (I always knew my Irish passport - and, thereby, my European Union citizenship - could come in handy. 😏) Anyway; enough of that ... on with the cruise report.

Having spent the winter in one of the most rubbish-strewn environments we have ever experienced, we (yes; Lyn's still putting up with me) departed the Ashton-under-Lyne/Dukinfield area, as soon as the repairs were completed on the Marple Flight (16 locks in 2 miles) of the Peak Forest Canal. That was on the afternoon of March 28th.. Within 24 hours we had ascended the flight and were meandering down the Macclesfield Canal, towards Stoke-on-Trent.

Having had friends aboard, in Bollington, for dinner and wine; we carried on down the cut (and descended 12 locks), we decided to investigate the village of Mow Cop, and its (built as a ruined castle) folly. We made our climbing approach across fields, but were not greatly exhausted when we reached the top. There we discovered that the folly was the site of  the first Primitive Methodist camp meeting, in 1807; and in 1937 over ten thousand Methodists met on the hill to commemorate that event. We returned to Moonstone - nearly 2 miles, and 1,000 feet away - by the less arduous route of the road.

In Stoke-on-Trent we rented a car, in order to attend the funeral of our friend John McNulty (Cdr. R.N. Rtd.) It was our pleasure an privilege, over many years, to become friends with John, his wife Barbara, and their sons: Ned and Theo. The mere children when we originally met are now two strapping and handsome men ... one a newly qualified airline pilot, the other a newly minted copper. We know their Dad was proud of them both; as is the lovely Barbara. John Conolly not being in the country, I was allocated the pleasurable duty of rendering Fiddler's Green; John McN's favourite song.

The weather has been fairly kind; and is forecast to become even better ... so the Brexiteers can justifiably claim that; having 'taken back control'; benefits are fast accruing!

Our interim destination is Kidderminster, which lies somewhat to the South-West of Birmingham. There we shall be meeting up with our daughter: Jane; and her husband: Max. Jane's birthday is on the 22nd. of this month, but mine is on the 16th. (No flowers, please!) to celebrate both of these momentous occasions we will be dining aboard a train, hauled by a steam locomotive of the Severn Valley Railway. This will be Jane's first experience of a steam-train; and my first meal on board such since 1952!!!

One can only hope.

So ... on a quiet, sunny evening; tied up on the bank of the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal; I leave you for now. Tom.

Strange beauty.

After a great expedition to North Wales and the Northwest Midlands, we are back at our winter (2016/17) moorings; in Dukinfield, Greater Manchester.

We're actually within a couple of feet of the aqueduct over the River Tame, just onto the Peak Forest Canal, by its junction with the Ashton Canal and the Huddersfield Narrow Canal. The river is the boundary between Cheshire and Lancashire, so most mornings I walk from Cheshire to Lancashire, and back, to purchase my daily paper ... about a 10-minute walk!

Sad to report; this area appears to be home to the dirtiest people in Europe; as the amounts of garbage and dog-faeces on the sidewalks, streets, hedgerows and open spaces is the most dispiriting it has ever been our misfortune to encounter. Over the past 40 years; the British, as a whole, have become an incredibly rubbish-strewing society. Perhaps it is a symptom of successive governments encouraging the growth of greed; to the detriment of community spirit; ... who can tell?

ENOUGH!!! I must not sign-off the year in such a depressive mode. Whilst I view almost all the news on the national and international scene with something approaching horror; 2016 has been an excellent one for us, personally. With huge good news on the health front and a triumphal musical outcome in prospect (can't say exactly what, at this point ... hopefully, details in the New Year), we sometimes feel that we are surrounded in a comfortable, teflon, bubble!

This will be the last report from Watery Peregrinations, for 2016. We shall be, occasionally, taking Moonstone up the Peak Forest Canal; just for a change of scenery. We're only a few miles, and a few hours from the Derbyshire Peak District; with its beautiful scenery and invigorating walking trails. (Lyn's early Xmas gift is a stout pair of hiking-boots!) However ... beauty is not only in the eye of the beholder, it is also where you find it. Just a mile upstream from our mooring, we were walking the towpath, under a low railway bridge, when the sun reflecting off the surface of the water lit up the underside of the structure ... and lo ...

 ... well ... I think it's beautiful, anyway!

2016 has seen Moonstone - with Lyn and me on board - cruising along 805 miles of canals and rivers, negotiating 653 locks, groping through (about) 9 miles of tunnels, 'flying' more than 100 feet above rivers on 10 occasions ... and enjoying every minute.

Hope to see you next year. Tom (and Lyn).

See ya' later elevator!

This is the Anderton Boat Lift;

although, on this occasion, it's the boat 'lower' ... and we've just brought Moonstone out of the chamber on the left; having started fifty feet up above. It is a marvel of Victorian engineering; dating from 1875. Here's the Wikipedia entry.

However ... I've started at the wrong end of this part of the cruise. This is where we are now ... where were we? Ah, yes. I remember ... up the Peak Forest Canal to Bugsworth Basin, with our friends Eliza and Gordy (Portland, OR.) Once we had dropped off our friends at Macclesfield railway station, we turned around and went back to Bollington; (great folk club, where the wonderful Pete Coe was the featured guest) for a heritage narrowboat 'meet-up'.

Proceeding - once again - Westerly on the Macclesfield Canal, at Stoke-On-Trent, we turned off on the Caldon Canal, towards Froghall. We stopped off to visit the Cheddleton Flint Mill where the site is believed to have been used for milling since the Middle Ages.

Leaving Stoke-On-Trent, we started on our Journey to North Wales. Stoke was, once, world-renowned for its manufacturing of pottery (the area is known as 'The Potteries) and fine china. At the time, these 'bottle kilns' were a ubiquitous part of the landscape. Now, only a few have been preserved, to remind us of that heritage.

The Llangollen Canal is (comparatively) quite narrow and shallow. It is also unusual in having a flow of about 1mph; so the Westward journey was quite slow.

Having arrived at the 'World Heritage' aqueducts, we invited several friends to join us for the trip of a life-time: 'flying' 126 ft. above the River Dee, on the Pontycyllyte Aqueduct! More impressive Victorian Engineering ... this being just one of Thomas Telford's masterpieces.

We actually went back and forth a couple of times, and were very lucky with the weather; as we have been for the past month or more.

Coming down the Llangollen Canal was a tad faster than our upward journey, so we took a couple of days out to explore the - very small, very rural, almost deserted - Montgomery Canal. Then it was back; via the Shropshire Union Canal and the Middlewich Branch Canal; to the Trent and Mersey Canal. That connects the North Sea to the Irish Sea, from the headwaters of the River Trent to the Manchester Ship Canal.

Because we were passing the Anderton Lift, we decided to drop in (almost literally) to the River Weaver; one end of which is 'post-industrial', whilst the other is delightfully rural.

So ... the 'drift Northwards' continues but, for now, our sights are set on our return to our chosen winter mooring; on the Eastern outskirts of Manchester. Fingers crossed for reasonable weather. All for now folks. Tom and Lyn.

Rumours of my death ... (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)

OK; it's certainly been a while, and I'm running out of excuses. Laziness is NOT an excuse ... but it could be a reason.

I'm writing from Stoke-on-Trent, where we're mooring Moonstone whilst we are in Liverpool for the Labour Party Conference and Lyn's birthday ... 'though the two are in no wise connected. Lyn will be enjoying her first time in the city; whilst I explore my socialist conscience! (Anyone who wishes to discuss politics, please do; by e-mail.)

Over the past couple of months we've been based at a funky little marina, on the Eastern outskirts of Greater Manchester. The original plan (such as it was) did not have us so far North, at this stage of our peregrinations. However; a minor medical mystery incurred us being in this area, and that mystery has now been resolved in the happiest manner.

Our geographic location has meant several jaunts up the Peak Forest Canal; taking various Bitish, Canadian and American friends as far as Buxworth and Macclesfield. Bugsworth Basin is a beautifully restored ex-industrial transhipment terminal.




During and after the industrial revolution, large quantities of limestone were required. Much was mined in the hills above Bugsworth, brought by tramway to the basin, and loaded onto boats and barges to be used in multifarious industrial processes. Over the decades Bugsworth Basin became 'surplus to requirements' and fell into a sad state of disrepair. The local pastor of that small community felt that BUGsworth did not sound genteel; so prevailed upon the residents to accept a change of name to BUXworth. When the Basin Restoration Society was formed, the members resolved to reinstate the original name; so BUGSWORTH BASIN is now hard by the small village of BUXWORTH! Incidentally ... the only pub - The Navigation - used to be owned by one Pat Phoenix; (life imitating art); for many years playing Elsie Tanner: the landlady of the Rovers Return, in Coronation Street!




We can only wonder at the lovingly dedicated efforts of such a great group of local volunteers, who continue their work in maintaining and operating the basin; transforming it to this!!!

























Had we known that our cruising plans were to develop as they have; we would have taken Moonstone into the famous Albert Dock, and had our home with us at the conference; rather than the airbnb which will be our pied-a-terre. No matter. There should be plenty of us 'old lefties' to raise some union songs in the famous BALTIC FLEET.



All for now, friends, Tom.

Coconuts in the canal

It's been a while since I reported in, but Lyn and I have been quite busy. The trip to the Pacific Northwest was everything we would have wished ... and more.

THE WEDDING was a real treat ... the 'people watching' was world-class. Anna and Steve have the grandest mixture of friends; so we appeared to be seeing a melange of millionaire bikers, Hollywood execs, pirates of both genders, and a large posse of lovely, caring and talented folks. It was actually quite the privilege for us to be accepted as just part of the crew!

Anna making an honest - and very happy - man of Steve. Guess who coiffed Steve's hair?

Our return to British Columbia was poignant, and almost sentimental. Whilst it reminded us how lucky we had been, for three decades, and what great friends we have left behind; the visit engendered no sense of regret. That was then. This is now.

Laurie and Rollie took us down to their cabin, for a beautifully tranquil couple of days.

Well ... not until the result of THE REFERENDUM were announced, anyway. ;-)) (I've just noticed that my Irish Passport needs to be renewed. I must get right on that!)

Now; we are on our way up to Manchester, by way of a few side-trips. It's almost a hundred and fifty miles, so it will take us just over a week!

Ah, yes ... 'coconuts in the canal' ... 

Whilst we were meandering through Birmingham (about 2 months ago) we noticed, on a few different occasions, coconuts bobbing about in the water??? Recently; heading into Coventry; we again saw this sight and felt it to be strange; as there were no coconut palms anywhere in view! Chatting with a 'local' we gained the insight that: in areas of the U.K. where there are large communities of folks from the Indian sub-continent; there is a tradition carried out by folks living near the River Ganges. During funerals: grieving relatives deposit coconuts in the sacred river. The Ganges; being relatively remote from the U.K.; nearby rivers and canals are pressed into service, by local grieving relatives; as a substitute. Are we - we wonder - being too gullible, in accepting this explanation for the floating nuts?

We have now left The Saltisford Arm (Warwick) which has been our 'pied-a-terre' for a lot of the past 9 months. (Thanks Ian and Jackie!) Now we are heading North, to establish a new 'pied-a-terre' at the Portland Basin (at Dukinfield, on the outskirts of Manchester); with Sandra and Guy (boatyard owners).

As you might surmise; we are drifting - gradually - towards our house in Shipley, Yorkshire.

It has its own mooring; but when we'll actually get there ... ???

Hope you are all well. More anon, Tom and Lyn.