Pirates and Currie ahoy!

Last night we enjoyed a steak dinner on board, retired to bed and snored all the way through to 8am. Today we went into the pirate infested waters of the Macclesfield Canal. With actual pirates.

My morning started as usual with coffee brought to me in bed, and I enjoyed the view of the national monument through partially opened curtains to the bow. Some chirping and fluttering drew my attention to two greenfinches playing there, flying from one side to the other, perching on the bench, and hovering in front of the window.

After getting up, we moved to the water point, topped up, had breakfast and started on our way up a short arm of canal to a turning point, just to see what was up there. Not a lot really, apart from a random encounter on the way up with a lady walking her dog. A somewhat familiar looking mature lady with perfectly coiffured hair and bright lipstick. We discussed the matter, and decided that it was probably Edwina Currie. We turned around in the basin and started to head back, encountering her on her return journey also. It was indeed Ms Currie, and father got so excited he forgot to steer the boat and hit the wall.

We returned down the Peak Forest Canal, with all the swing and lift bridges behaving themselves beautifully, mother cleaned house without tracking mud all over, and then we entered the Macclesfield Canal.

No sooner had we begun this stretch than we identified a pirate ship pootling down the canal straight at us. Or, more correctly, weaving in our general direction. It was just half our size and listing heavily, but it had a large crew on board, most of whom were waving their beer at us and swallowing their swords. Or perhaps the other way around. And definitely threatening to board us and shiver our timbers.

As they didn’t hit us, we laughed and shook our heads at their antics and continued on with our sandwiches and pink wine. A bit later on, a horn sounded in the distance behind us, and lo and behold but the drunken pirate ship was catching us up. The pirates ducked in and out of moored boats, circumnavigated flotillas of ducks and threatened to board unsuspecting canoes, all without ever hitting anything and we decided that the helmsman was in fact a highly talented steerer who was giving the happy tourists a fun ride.

We let them overtake us, which they did with good humour and much laughter and they disappeared into the distant horizon. Having thought we’d escaped the marauding pirates unmolested, we were almost alarmed to see another pirate ship coming towards us. This one slower and straighter, with less beer and more wine. The crew were rather more mature, though no less costumed and piratical.

Continuing on, we passed herons stalking fish on the banks, one so still we didn’t see him until he was right next to us at the stern. We passed adults with small children too, and asked them if they’d seen the pirates. Yes, they replied, and wanted to know if we were going to catch them because that would be exciting. One little girl went so far as to enquire if we had pirates aboard because she was scared of them and she wouldn’t like us if we did.

As we are high up at the moment, the views have been spectacular, especially the steep drops, the viaducts, and the great city of Manchester down and distant. And oh, look, it’s Pimms o’clock again.