The Exeter Canal on a misty Thursday morning.

Jackie has been keen on doing part of the Exeter canal ever since we had our "trial" Tarpon test paddle there in the early summer. The small matter of a replacement hip didn't help much and this year has been a bit "difficult". However Jackie decided that we had eaten too much Figgy Duff at Tracey's for Xmas lunch and we needed some exercise. Now the fact we had been on the moors walking with Tim only a few days ago and completed a little under six miles around Saltram the previous day cut little or no ice with Jackie. She was insistent that the Met promised great weather for Thursday. Sunshine, no wind.

 "Let's get the canoes up to Exeter and paddle "part of the canal".

If nothing else it looks atmospheric!

That was it decided then. In need of adult supervision I asked Les, a nautical chum, if he and Margaret would like to come along. They it seemed were taking their campervan to Haytor for the night and thought it a good idea so promptly lashed on their Canadian canoe and agreed to meet us at GR:SX963873 beside the canal on the Exbridges marshes at 1030hrs. They appeared right on time and whilst Jackie Mike and Les set about unloading the canoes and kit Margaret had the kettle on for a brew. The place was freezing. Frost everywhere and quite low visibility. Still no time for wimping out.

There was a six day trip in Sweden canoeing in canadians from the arctic circle South down the Harkan river planned for the summer of 2017 so we best get some practice in.

Not only a glamour puss but a good Bow lifter as well.

The most difficult and ungainly aspect of canoeing is a little like flying in an aircraft. It's the take off and landing. Or in my case the getting in and out. Now the Exeter canal is deep and wide. Seldom used for large shipping these days. More yachts and pleasure craft. It was our intention to paddle from the marshes, just short of Turf Locks pub as far as Double Locks. Which as its name suggests is a ....well you get the idea. Here we intend going ashore for a coffee, stretch our legs and return. A gentle couple of hours on the water. All being well!

The mist showed no sign of lifting and it was great paddling along. Away in the distance we could hear the drum of traffic on the flyover which takes the M5 over the canal, river Exe and the marshes. There was however a more intrusive sound and it was a rhythmic splashing. Thinking we were about to attacked by one of the numerous swans on the river I turned and there approaching fast out of the mist was a two person canoe. I say two person as it had both a woman at the front and a man in the rear. Paddling like Billy O. No sooner had we shouted "Ahoy" or some other suitable nautical expression than they had passed us on the "larboard" side and disappeared ahead into the gloom.

 A few more bridges to duck under, a few fisherman hidden in the reeds whose lines you did not see until the last moment. Numerous looks from the walkers and cyclists on the towpath and we arrived at Doublelocks.




Nanouk of the North.

There is a rather splendid pub here as well which is very popular. I have never crossed it's threshold but am assured they pull a good pint. Being a working lock there are landing stages on both sides of the canal on either end of the lock. Out of courtesy to the few imbibing on the outside benches we landed opposite. Tied off the canoes and sat on the edge of the lock.

 





Double Locks Pub

Certain members of the flotilla assumed we were going into the pub for a quick bevvy or even a nice warming latte and started to walk across the lock bridge. "Oi were are you going?" I asked Jackie. "To get a coffee". "No need sweetheart". I replied "I've brought a flask". Her replied was lost to the wind but it sounded a bit like "Cheapskate". Couldn't have been. Les and Margaret, old hands at this sort of business had packed a flask and a Tupperware container of home made mince pies. Margaret, with such a generous nature offered then around. This placated Jackie somewhat.

Leaving Double Locks for the return journey.

As we came around the bend for the return journey we were once again alongside this Motor Torpedo Boat. It was here that some years ago an enterprising fellow had attempted to open a Nautical Museum on the Canal. Some might say it's star attraction was this old MTB. I'm not an expert on WWII British MTB's but after searching around on "tinternet" I would suggest this is a Fairmile boat. It's great to see a craft like this in local waters, as the English Channel was the front line for these coastal forces with significant groups of boats operating from places like Plymouth and Dartmouth in their battles with German E boats operating out of Cherbourg. Indeed it was from that very French harbour that the German boats responsible for the attack on the US landing ships off Slapton Sands during Operation Tiger came out from and caused such devastating losses pre D-Day.

MTB Launch.

The boat is in a sorry state now. The wooden sides are starting to rot and in places you can see the brass plates attached to the hull in an attempt to keep the planking in place. Within the confines of the canal it looks large. However I for one would not wish to be caught in the English Channel in December playing cat and mouse with Jerry on my tail!

Come to that it's just about all I can manage to paddle up here and that's with a full sun warming me now.

My feet are cold and wet though!

The smiles say it all.

We were soon back at the "put in" and out of the canoes. The effort of lifting the canoes out of the water and the carrying to the transport of all the kit soon had the circulation returning to our extremities. As we lashed the last of the canoes on Margaret looked out of her camper and shouted "Kettles boiled". We needed no second bidding and were soon sat inside sipping mugs of tea and would you believe it eating warm "choc-au-pain". 

Life couldn't get any better could it? 

Well it did, for around the corner puffed, yes puffed an old showman's steam engine. Not full size, quarter size but still very very impressive. Now dear old Tom in France is currently building one of these and so after chatting with the young owners and asking permission I snapped away. Taking what I hoped would be good technical photos to send to Limoges.

 

 

For the Technically minded.

It had been a good bit of exercise. Little under 6 miles. Land not nautical and a most enjoyable day but now it was mid afternoon and time to head back home. Margaret and Les being party animals were ashore tonight. The Stopportons? All we had to do was drive home, unload the canoes, shower and fall asleep in front of the TV. Bliss.