Gloucester on Severn 2010

Taking the canal tug Gloucester up the largest river estuary in Britain.

Given that the Severn estuary (known as the Bristol Channel further downstream) is the largest by far in Britain, and has the second highest tidal range in the world, taking any boat on it is not something to take lightly. Excursions that take in shallower waters must take account of the current tidal range, the direction of the very strong tidal currents, the timing of the tides, the draught of the boat and the weather. There are charts showing the water depths and locations of marker buoys, radio channels that can be used to contact the harbour authorities and monitor other shipping traffic, and even a guidebook for navigating the estuary. At low tide, vast parts of the estuary are exposed as sandbanks.

The Gloucester needed to be taken back up to the shipyard for some more work to be done on the exterior. The interior was missing most of its internal walls and furnishings, but at least the boat was seaworthy. Our skipper (Chris) had followed the route before, and had carefully chosen the ideal time to leave Cardiff, and head up the estuary, to coincide with a minimal tidal range, incoming tide and daylight hours. We also had a navigator (Paul) who was familiar with the use of the shipping charts.

• After an almost sleepless night preparing for the voyage, skip and nav were ready for a very early start, before sunrise. With barely enough light for me to force my reserve camera to work, we headed out of the Cardiff Marina. At least I'd had a full night's sleep.
• Into the locks at the Cardiff Bay Barrage.
• Tying off to the other boats in the lock, to avoid being knocked around by the flow.
• Before.
• After.
• Behind the breakwaters.
• Light of the impending sunrise.
• Penarth Pier and Penarth Head.
• The hills around Risca, including Mynydd y Lan (381 metres), Mynydd Machen (362 metres), Twmbarlwm (419 metres) and Mynydd Twyn-glas (472 metres).
• The recent snowfall and melt had left large amounts of this driftwood floating down the river. The muddy water actually looks quite beautiful with those reflections.
• Streamers of the sunrise.
• Marker buoy highlighting the strong currents trying to wash us upstream.
• Morning light on the stern.
• Despite wanting to head upstream, the channels between the sandbanks meant that we had to cross the estury all the way to Weston-super-Mare before we could turn upstream.
• Approaching Avonmouth. This estury is a busy shipping lane, with large ships like this passing through it. Another was following us up the river, keeping some distance behind.
• Portishead.
• Denny Island, a small but obvious landmark in the estuary.
• The new Severn Bridge, poking out through the top of a sea mist.
• The temperature rapidly dropped, so I spent some time in the cabin to warm up, and take texture shots. Of course.
• New Severn Bridge, reflected.
• Supports and arches heading off into Wales.
• Underside of the bridge.
• Mist over the old Severn Bridge.
• Smaller bridge over the mouth of the Wye, marking the border between England and Wales.
• Old Severn Bridge and pylon, reflected.
• Between bridges.
• Old Severn Bridge support.
• Underside of the bridge.
• The rocky outcrops and currents here produce some powerful eddies, which persist for large distances along the river. The most violent of these that we encountered spun the boat quite forcefully to one side then the other, but thankfully without incident.
• Stacked limestone and sandstone at Sedbury Cliffs. For a while, the mist had lifted enough for us to see.
• A stream of scum and flotsam.
• End of Sedbury Cliffs.
• One last piece of flotsam, and as we feared, we were plunged into the mist.
• Which then thickened to fog. The boat does not have any GPS navigation equipment, and the fog was so thick that we rapidly lost our sense of direction. The safe channels get much narrower and shallower, so this was definitely unwanted. Without radar, we also could not see any other ships, and had to resort to radioing our position to the nearby shipping controller, to check if there were any others in our area, such as the big one that was still following us; gulp. Think I'll sound the ship's horn again...
• We had various things with us though, including two phones with GPS and a compass, and the sun barely shining through the fog. Of these, the sun proved to be the most reliable for maintaining direction.
• Navigating using a phone for GPS (and a laptop as a battery pack), with satellite images taken (thankfully) at low tide. This made it possible to recognise features from the shipping chart. Unfortunately, the GPS resolution was very poor in the fog, and the GPS continuously fed us bad data, often telling us our direction of travel was the opposite to what the sun told us. More than once we ended up heading the wrong direction as a result, until we got used to its behaviour.
• Ooh look, a marker, th... no, it's gone. At least one of these then showed us that we had managed to pass almost directly over some rocks that we should have noticed.
• A sudden encounter with the river bank, and resulting emergency stop in the silt later, and this was becoming quite a serious challenge. But at least the channel now stayed close enough to the river banks for us to use it as a navigation aid for a while.
• The bank at Berkeley Pill. From here, we had to leave the bank again, and to make it harder, the sun was blocked out by the fog. A stream of scum was correctly identified as coming from the Sharpness lock, so we tried following it to the coast.
• Bell ho! Relief, as we heard the bell at Sharpness, which they had set ringing for us.
• Arriving at the Sharpness breakwater. The plastic tube near the camera is a radar reflector, which is designed to increase our radar signature. At least that ship behind us would see us, even if we couldn't see them.
• Thankyou.
• Sharpness in the fog.
• Mooring in the docks.
• Ladder.
• Diamonde, the ship that had been following us. Definitely glad we managed to maintain a safe distance from them in the fog.
• As the fog began to lift, we had to enter the lock beside that ship.
• Gloucester may be bigger than most of the regular pleasure boats in the locks, but this ship is huge - any false moves and it would crush us like we weren't there.
• Water flooding into the lock.
• Sharpness docks. First sour moment; being based in Cardiff, Chris does not need to pay the British Waterways license fee, but he does need to pay to use the locks and canal at Sharpness. No problem. But the way they told him this was quite childish - not what they said, but the way they said it. You could hear the gleeful laughter and disdain in the voice. Very unprofessional. Certainly not like the pleasent way we had been treated in Cardiff.
• Decay.
• Boats in the dock. The Tudor-style paintwork is especially nice.
• Tightly packed berthings at Sharpness, where we paid a quick visit to a friend in one of the boats. Second sour moment; some grouchy old fart came out of another one to tell us that we were not allowed to enter there (apparently there was a sign hidden behind someone's boat...). Not happy with telling us once (to which we replied very politely - I vent my anger here instead), he proceeded to gather another helper, and tell us again and again and again, then followed Paul as he left his friend's boat, preventing us from picking him up. GET OFF MY LAWN YOU KIDS!
• Swan.
• To get through low tunnels, Gloucester's funnel (which is just ornamental, replicating the original boat's functional design) folds back to reduce its height.
• The Ridge Sand of the Severn, and The Gloucester and Sharpness Canal.
• Remains of the Severn Railway Bridge.
• A concrete barge. Seems ridiculous, but it has as much right to float as a steel one. Except it sank.
• First of the bridge with lights. The sign explaining (I assume) how these work is obscured behind the boats (very helpful, not), so we got it wrong. Red obviously means stop. It then flashes red to say that they have seen you and are opening the bridge. Then it turns green to say you can go. You have to stop a long way before it - we drifted level with it, and apparently that was against the rules. As a result, we got the third sour moment; finding out just how anally retentive the people who run the bridges are, and how much they insist that you follow their procedures. This is presumably because this is a commercial shipping lane, and larger boats can't make emergency manoeuvres. But still, take a chill pill, and get those boats out of the way of the signs so we can read them, please.
• And the next one. At all of these subsequent ones there was no sign explaining anything (though apparently we got it right with this one), so I have to wonder how they can expect anyone to know the rules - it's not like a road where there are lessons and licenses. No list of rules is presented when you pay the usage fees. You just have to stumble on the rules by breaking them and having your wrist slapped. Give me a proper little quiet canal, without these people.
• Canal reflections.
• Peace.
• Pillbox on the edge of the Severn.
• Bridge with a keeper's box like an old signal box. At the next one we had been moored while waiting for them to open the bridge. As the bridge was opening, we pulled out into the canal ready for our turn. Apparently that was not allowed, and we should have remained where we were until the light had turned green. More diatribe. This gets very tiresome.
• As always when passing others on the river, we moved at a minimal speed to limit our wake, and used the correct (right) side of the canal. The rower thanked us for slowing down, and it took a while to notice that she was being sarcastic. What have we done now? Really, I don't care. Get lost all of you. You anally retentive, grouchy, snooty, and highly unpleasant people. Perhaps you should learn to enjoy life, and let others do the same. Maybe try a little courtesy, or I dunno, maybe just chill out a little, yeah? Thakyou all so much for giving me such a great introduction to the English canals.
• Flooded fields.
• Female kestrel.
• The boat yard, and end of our journey. There were some very pleasent people here, who offered a warm and friendly welcome. So it is possible.
• A very cute, manually operated swing footbridge.
• Junction Bridge.

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