A Lock Fights back
A Lock Fights back
by: Buffs
As the clock sweeps past 9 Western Depot usually settles into a rhythm of machines whirring gently in the machine shop and woodworking machines answering with a scream. The majority of the volunteers whose early hub-hub has moved away to distant worksites won’t be back until much later in the day. But each team has its humorous moments to be shared with the WD volunteers later.
One such moment involves the treachery of silt in a lock. On occasion we have to identify excessive water leaks around lock gates which means the lock must be sealed at both ends and then drained to a tolerable working level. To achieve this there is much huffing and puffing as stop planks are installed at both ends and an aquadam installed at the head above the planks. While this is not always a perfect solution it is usually sufficient for our pumps to maintain a dry enough lock bottom.
Observers of the canal will know that there is little movement through the locks but the canal is fed by streams which bring silt into the channel. This silt builds up against lock gates and in lock chambers. The fertile mud has a fragrance all of its own. Not quite Eau de Chanel but Eau de Canal, a longer lasting fragrance…
Clearing the silt from the lock bottom work site must be done manually with bucket and shovel. The apparently solid mud banks are of variable quality and strength. Some deeper banks can be walked over but not always. Yesterday’s solid bank may not be so solid after overnight rain or water seepage into the lock.
This variability has been demonstrated on a recent job. The team had wisely resorted to chest waders for working with the silt. With the waders came a misplaced confidence. A volunteer ventured onto a silt bank and found the soft spot. Not just one soft spot but two as both feet slipped through the oozing silt. A vertical lift of one foot caused the other to sink deeper into the cloying grasp. The volunteer wobbled on one leg. I’m not going down.. ..he thought too soon. Regaining his balance by putting the second foot down with a little more force than necessary he drove deeper into the mire. Now neither foot would move. The gallery was sympathetic offering the usual helpful ribald message of support.
Stuck fast our volunteer tried to dig his feet free only for the mud’s grasp to grow stronger. Realising that his feet could move, just, in the waders the way out was clear. Climb out of the waders.
Boards were laid around him and slowly he rolled the chest high rubber down and by careful management of his weight he slipped first one leg free and then the second. Victorious, he made his way of the silt bank only for the silt to make it mark. His stockinged feet, which had no grip on the slimy surface, were treacherously taken from under him and he fell back onto the silt.
The waders were recovered with little difficulty and the volunteer was hosed down before he went home to ………
