It
was a miserable start to the day, with drizzle and wind. I set off just before
9am with one other boat to meet up with the CRT guys at the Mann island lock,
so we were the first two in the lock. I had hoped for this, as I wanted help
through all those swing bridges that I did by myself on the way into Liverpool
and being one of the first, meant that I would not get left behind. All went
well on the way out of the docks, apart from the constant rain. There were 8
boats in the convoy and the first one did the swing bridge and let all the
others through; they then followed up as Tail End Charlie, but gradually worked
their way back up the convoy. Being single handed, I was excused duty, as it
would mean holding up the procession, because it would take me too long. True to form, I did not touch one swing bridge
all the way through until the mooring at Haskayne, where I was close to another
boat that I knew was going on in the morning. The remainder of the convoy had already
moored up at Mersey Motor Boat Club at Skarisbrick. For some inexplicable
reason, I felt depressed for the whole day; I don’t think the weather helped,
but it may have been a feeling of anticlimax having achieved my goal of
reaching Liverpool.
I
accompanied this boat the next day through the next two swing bridges into
Burscough, where I stopped to shop, but they had moved on when I got back, so I
though all was lost. Not so, I even managed to get assistance through the next
two swing bridges, much to my surprise. So despite having to do every one of
these buggers on the way down, I never touched one on the return trip – how amazing
is that? I now felt much better than the day before and had cheered up
considerably.
Just
below Wigan, I was caught up by a plastic cruiser and offered to wait for them
at the next lock, so we did all the locks through Wigan and beyond until we reached
Plank Lane bridge, where I moored up for the night after 12 hours cruising. It
had been a long day and probably the same was to come.
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