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As Phil moors his boat on the Staffs and Worcs and is frequently seen with his boat on the BCN he is often seen "single handing" on the Wolverhampton 21 when his wife Dot is busy at work. He has many tales to tell and starts with this:
Coming down the Wolverhampton Twenty One recently, it struck me that rarely does an ascent or descent occur without something of note happening and so I thought I'd put some thoughts and memories down about this wonderful stretch of canal. All of what follows is true but some has been garnished with a little extra licence. I'll leave you to decide which is which! "Excuse me, do you know the canals around here?" The smart lady on the smart boat asked while I was walking the dog and she was just coming out of number 20 heading up. "I'm going to Bree-wood". Wrong on two accounts I thought and proceeded gently to explain she was heading away from the mispronunciation. "Oh, dear, what can I do?" I ended up helping her gently reverse her smart new boat back down the two ocks and to the safety of the Staffs & Worcs. Single handing up not so long ago I was gently rising up in 14 when I noticed a bloke running down to 13 and opening a top paddle. When I was high enough to see properly I realised his boat was still in no 10. 11 was full and 12 was filling. I came out of my lock, chugged across the pound and sat just below 13 to wait. After an age, he eventually came out of 13. I was in no rush and was willing to accept his apology gracefully. Instead he yelled " They're all set for you now!" I looked at 13 and said "So was that one half an hour ago". Talking of single handing, I often set off up the locks and meet Dot somewhere up the flight after she's finished ork. Once I was just nosing out of no 1 when she appeared. Good timing! Coming down,one pleasant Sunday afternoon, we met a bloke sunning himself on the beam of no 16. Handy for the off licence, he was half surrounded by cans. "That makes a refreshing change" he said, echoing a current advert. He went on to explain that we were the first boat he'd seen with "the wench steering and the bloke doin' the werk!" Leaving the Black Country Museum at twenty past six on the way home after a Pumphouse Rally, I arrived at the top lock at about half past eight. It was full! At no 2 I met an ascending boat, at no 3 had a chat with Annette Grant, at no 5 was accosted by an old chap who proceeded to tell me risque jokes for five minutes ( including one about the sexual habits of Essex Girls which was identical to oone I'd heard about Tipton and involved the bus shelter!) at no 6 the lock keeper shut the bottom gates for me and carried on down the flight so the next five had their top gates open when I reached them, at Fox's Lane I had a bacon butty from the mobile cafe while the boat slowly descended 10, at no 14 I crossed another ascending boat, at 15 a young lad on his bike looked over at the boat in the bottom of the lock and asked "has it sunk?", at 18 I crossed another ascending boat and came out of 21 at twenty past eleven. It's not usually as good as that. Cycling up there the other day I noticed the new wooden bollards, three per lock. I can't wait to try them out, but I don't know what I'll use them for ! (Talking about cycling I don't think I'll ever beat my record of seven minutes from top to bottom. Mind it was before they put in the barriers and it was at the price of a buckled front wheel) This time was far more sedate. I'd set out to ride into town to go to the library and was surprised to see two boats waiting at the bottom. I opened the gate to let a boat into no 20 and had a chat with the new-aget lass steering it. Now, I've got nothing against new-agey types. Believe it or not I used to have hair down to my shoulders. There were about seven of them cruising together, she said, from Trent Lock. Helping each other up. By the time I was riding back down I think they must have fallen out; why else leave the top gate open when you can see there's nothing coming down and you know there's a boat behind you! I met another new-ageyb typeyearscago one Christmas Eve. For longer than I care to remember, Mike and me have gone to town of a Christmas Eve lunchtime for a few pints before wending our respective ways home. I met the traveller four or five locks up and helped him down to the bottom. We shared chat and a couple of cans and, as he was heading for the hippy haven which then existed at Norbury, I stayed on the boat to help him through Autherley stop lock. As we parted in the late afternoon darkness I wished him Happy Christmas. "Happy Yule,Phil" came the reply. A bridge has recently appeared at lock 17, there was one here previously, Spring Bridge. The new one is a testament to the welder's art, or something. Single handing down again the other day I was conscious of the two boats behind me so got a bit of a move on. I was just about to climb off the boat to shut the bottom gate at no 20 when the bloke off the boat behind came up and said "Where's your helper?" I told him I hadn't had one. He said " But I saw you talking to someebody at one of the locks." I told him that was the lass off the hire boat I'd caught up!.