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1月14日

Canal days

By Dennis T Baker

Over the years you could say that I have spent quite a bit of time in and on the canal. But the first time I ever fell in was the most memorable to me,

I have always had an interest in all kinds of wild life.

From a very early age I would collect all sorts of things.

A favourite story of my mothers is the day I came in and tipped

A large jar of worms all over the dinner table, and another time

Getting my pants ready for the wash she found a snake in my pocket.

But lets get back to the canal; it was a lovely sunny day

We had a lot of them when I was a kid. And I wanted a frog for a pet so off up the canal I went fishing net in hand,

Back in sixties come February and march the canal bank on both sides would be full of frogs and frog spawn, to find the frog I wanted for my pet was going to be quite a challenge. After half an hour of studying the canal I spotted the one that I wanted.

He was a lovely big bullfrog greenish brown in colour a real beauty he was, I could tell from the look in his eyes he wanted to belong to me.

But he was about four feet from the bank of the canal.

So I had to have a plan, the brook was only a short walk

From the canal so down I went and looked around for the biggest stone I could carry half rolling and half carrying

I got it up to the canal and with some effort I threw it in.

It landed about a foot from the bank, then off I went down to the brook once more for another one getting this back to the canal

I put one foot on the bank then one foot on the stone I had dropped in then I dropped the other stone about another foot

Further along this meant I was only two feet from my prize frog.

So going back to the bank I got hold of my net stepped off the bank on to the first stone then placing my foot on the other stone

I reached forward with the fishing net, all this time the frog had sat there looking at me, and he was almost mine.

Then suddenly one of the stones started to wobble under my weight and then splash in I went head first into the mud and the water lucky for me it was not that deep only about two feet and most of that was mud, and snails and blood suckers and frogs and spawn and a million other types of canal wildlife

I know this to be true cos when I got out of the water I coughed up most of it …but I did have one bit of luck guess what I found in my fishing net.

But other visits to the canal at five locks in upper Cwmbran.

Even today send a shiver down my back.

From a very early age I can remember going to the canal

With my father and watching him swim in the clear water.

While I would paddle and watch the sticklebacks swim in and out my toes,

I remember one day going fishing with dad, my brother David

And my youngest brother Richard who at the time was only

About three years old, it was a lovely sunny day with a clear blue sky, we all carried our fishing rods that consisted of a

Hazelnut stick about four foot long and a length of black cotton

Taken out of moms sewing basket and a large jar of worms

Dug out from the garden.

We had plans for some heavy fishing that day.

We all dived our hands in turn into the jar and pulled out a nice big worm attaching it to the cotton we then cast them into the water

Leaving my brother Richard happily playing with the worms

We all watched intently to see who would get the first bite.

After a few minuets or so I turned to see what my brother Richard was up to, but he was nowhere to be found.

And before you reached the canal from our house there was an open field so if he were anywhere we would have seen him.

Then as I looked to my left I could see him lying on the bottom of the canal face down in the water, I screamed at my father

“ Dad Richard is in the canal “ with that my father learned over the bank of the canal grabbed Richard and pulled him out of the water as soon as Richard was out on the canal bank he began to cough up water and he started to cry, we had been very lucky that day. We never got any fish but we caught a very wet brother

And I very often think just a few seconds more and we could

have lost him luck was with us that day for sure.

I got up to many mad things when I was young.

But this as got to be the worst.

One of my pastimes during the school holidays

When I was a kid was a few friends and I would

Go up to the canal bank, find a wasp nest and dig it out.

Up we would go carrying our picks and shovel’s

And within a few minuets down we would run minus

Our picks and shovel’s, screaming like banshees

Hands slapping at the air.

Then back we would go for another dig.

First we would pour mentholated spirit down the hole

Then set it alight, wait till most of the wasps had been killed

Then start digging, when I think back, I think how mad we must have been doing this just to get a few shillings for the grubs

We sold to the local fisherman on the canal.

On more than one occasion one or more of us would get stung

I spent one Saturday afternoon with one ear twice the size of the other and throbbing like a drum, and my cousin Darrel

Was a sight to see with his pants round his ankles crouched down

In the local Brook splashing water on a very sore bum.

With the rest of us standing round laughing our heads off.

But we were a tough bunch come the weekend back we would be looking for another wasp nest to dig out.

Looking back the canal gave me many hours of pleasure.

I’m a lot older now but I still walk the canal Towpath.

But it saddens my heart to see the state it’s in today

Filled with rubbish and shopping carts

But in my minds eye I can still see my friends and me

Trying to catch frogs in one of our favourite spots.

The END.

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5月21日

THE MAIDEN VOYAGE OF “THE NESSIE”

By D.T.Baker

Back in 1979 I bought an old canvas two-seater canoe from a friend of my mother’s. It had a wooden frame and needed a lot of work to make it watertight.

So in the summer of 79 I spent a fair amount of time in my parent’s garden fixing up and painting my canoe. At last it was finished, now painted a deep green colour,

With the wooden panels vanished to perfection. Now all that was needed was a name so I decided to call her “THE NESSIE” after my wife Vanessa.

My first adventure came about a week later. I decided to take a trip up the canal, starting at the top of five locks on the canal just above the Cross Keys Pub.

I planned to paddle my canoe up as far as the basin at Pontypool then back again a distance of around seven miles. So with the help of my dear wife Vanessa we carried the canoe up from my parent’s house and set it down in the water.

Climbing aboard I gave my wife a wave and set out on my “epic” voyage.

The canal up as far as the long tunnel was quite clear of weed and the water was quite deep. But going through the tunnel some 260 feet in length was one thing I had dreaded. It seemed a very dark, and cold place to be venturing into.

And being all alone made it feel all that more spooky.

Yet in I had to go. So it was head down and paddled like mad. In no time at all I was on the other side and out in the warm sunshine. Taking a deep breath I paddled on up the canal. The water on the other side of the five locks tunnel was quite clear, but a lot of canal weed had built up and I found it quite hard going.

I tried my best to paddle through it but as I reached Sebastopol things got worse.

The water had become shallow and I had to avoid quite a bit of rubbish such as: old bedsprings mattresses, tin cans and an assortment of other bits. This more or less carried on until I reached the Crown Bridge at Sebastopol. I was sure I would have to take the canoe out of the water. As I was forcing the canoe through the mud with my paddle. Crown Bridge was not really a proper bridge at that time but just two large steel pipes, going under the road. With luck! I hoped to get my canoe through one of them. Using all the strength in my arms I headed for the pipes. By this time quite a few people had gathered perhaps to wonder at this nut in the canoe that was paddling in mostly mud. I did feel embarrassed at the time, but I felt a lot better when they gave me a cheer as I got through the pipe and out the other side.

The water was a lot deeper and clear of weed now, so I paddled on until I reached the “Open Hearth” Pub on the side of the canal. I was very tempted to call in for a few pints, but after coming more than half way and with my goal almost in sight I gave a sigh and paddled onward. The condition of the water was not bad at all until I reached the over powering pillars of the railway bridge at Griffith town. The canal before me and after this point was covered in thick green duckweed. With the towering bridge and the tree covering it looked and felt a very dark and foreboding place. It gave me the creeps. It was just like paddling over a dark green lawn, and at any time something could jump up out of the duckweed and grab my canoe and me and pull us under.

Boy was I glad to get from that place and out into the sunshine. At last my goal was in sight – the Basin at Pontypool. Another few minuets of paddling and at last I had reached my goal. Paddling over to the grass back I used my paddle to pull my canoe to the side. I got out and stretched my legs. I felt quite chuffed that I had reached my goal, but became apprehensive with the thoughts that I had to do it all again to get back home. After a rest of about twenty minutes I set off once more. This time I had the thought in the back of my mind that I would have a few pints in the Open Hearth on the way back. Off I set back through the spooky duckweed until I reached the pub.

I pulled into the side and tied up Nessie and set about having a few pints of cold beer sitting by the side of the canal, and feeling quite merry managed to get back into my canoe and paddled onward at a more leisurely pace.

I certainly didn’t feel in the mood to paddle through all that mud, so I decided to take the canoe out of the water at Sebastopol and carry it over the bridge.

Getting Nessie out of the water was the easy part, but trying to carry a two-seater wood and canvas canoe on your own was another matter. As luck would have it help was at hand. A kind gentleman seeing me struggle offered his help and in no time at all we was over the bridge and past the worst of the mud. I thanked the gentleman and put my canoe back in the water. About this time I started to feel the worse for all that beer I had drank, and keeping the canoe in a straight line was getting harder and harder, but worse was to come. As I reached the long tunnel. The thought of going through it when sober was frightening, but now going through was just a piece of cake. In I went; boy did I sober up fast. The light shining in from the far end of the tunnel reflected on the water, giving it the effect of me in my canoe paddling down the middle of a very large tube. It was all I could do to keep myself upright. 260 feet of tunnel seemed like a lifetime. I paddled as fast as I could at last I was out and in no time at all back at five locks on the canal above the Cross Keys Pub. Vanessa mum and dad where waiting for me. I had telephoned ness from the pub.

My little adventure over. Nessie had completed her maiden voyage. I had achieved my goal. Nessie was put to rest at the bottom of mum and dads garden waiting for me to take her on more adventures. …..The end