Heritage Canals: The Making of a Nation

This is the story of how canals changed and shaped our modern world.

Carrying huge volumes of goods and fuel,

they were a stimulus to Britain's great Industrial Revolution.

But they also gave us much, much more.

And their legacy lives on today, often in surprising ways.

My name's Liz McIvor.

I've spent my life studying and talking about history.

And I believe it's time to take a different look

at our inland waterways.

Since the Second World War,

so much has happened to our canals.

They're no longer places of smoke and toil,

of graft and industry.

They're now more likely to be places of calm and tranquillity,

of heritage and style.

But just how did this all happen?

This is Birmingham,

at the heart of our country's canal network.

These days, like many of our canal towns and cities,

cutting-edge architecture, carefully designed urban spaces

and thoughtful use of water make the canals inviting places.

And, in rural parts of the country,

the canals are often meandering ribbons of calm,

quietly traversing the nation.

It wasn't always like this.

Superseded first by the railways, and then by the roads,

by the 1940s, many miles of canals were neglected and,

to be frank, they were less than inviting.

Some stretches were filled in by the authorities.

Others silted up and became overgrown junkyards.

The future for canals in Great Britain

looked very bleak indeed.

But then something really rather wonderful happened.

It wasn't straightforward, but from the mid-1940s,

committed groups of volunteer activists

managed slowly but surely to convince the authorities

that the canals were worth saving.

The driving force behind the movement

was undoubtedly the Inland Waterways Association -

founded in 1946 by Tom Rolt,

the author of the popular memoir Narrow Boat,

and fellow writer Robert Aickman.

It would take time, a great deal of campaigning

and hard work by the IWA and others.

But a key moment came in 1968,

when the Transport Minister Barbara Castle

came down firmly on the side of canals with her Transport Act.

The act meant that most canals would definitely be retained or,

where needed, restored.

Slowly but surely, the plight of the canals improved

and Britain's waterways looked more secure than they had for years.

# Now is the time to send us a line

# For your Hoseasons boating brochure. #

Much of the heavy industry that the canals had been built for

had largely gone,

and this new era had an emphasis on recreation.

Whereas the canals would once have been filled

with the smell and the noise of working boats,

by the '60s and '70s,

they were almost exclusively used by pleasure boaters -

something that would have been inconceivable

to people in years gone by.

Cheap European package holidays

might have been kicking sand in the face of British seaside resorts,

but the UK boating holiday industry was on the rise.

And you didn't even have to own a boat.

You could hire one!

More people than ever could enjoy the canals

and see industrial gems like this -

the Pontcysyllte aqueduct in north-east Wales.

Completed in 1805 and designed by Thomas Telford,

it carries the Llangollen Canal over the River Dee valley.

And it was stunning locations like this

that really helped sell the leisure side of canals

to a new wave of boaters.

Peter Jones,

better known as Jones the Boat,

knows just what the attraction of pleasure boating is.

It's different.

I think that's the thing.

People don't expect it to be different, but it is.

And it's a very calm way of travelling.

Everyone says how restful it is - what a wonderful way of life.

And of course it's an ancient way of travelling.

What do you think people like Thomas Telford

would have thought of the use of this today?

He'd have thought it was brilliant

because he was ahead of his time anyway.

In fact, he was ahead of us, wasn't he?

His house is just over there

and he'd be looking through those windows,

cos that was his drawing office,

and he'd be so proud to see it being used today.

Probably more than it was in the old days!

It may not have been built for pleasure

but it's certainly a wonderful by-product of the industrial age.

And the aqueduct,

affectionately known as "the stream in the sky",

is now the centre of a World Heritage Site,

and something for tourists and pleasure boaters

to enjoy for years to come.

And one of the great things about canal boats

is that they're democratic.

They're liberating, a bit like having a mobile home.

It's allowed people from all walks of life to see more of the country.

And that's a pretty good legacy, if you ask me.

The popularity of pleasure boating

boosted more than just the tourism industry.

Into the '60s, '70s and '80s,

boatyards were busy again.

People wanted their boats to look the part, too,

something sign writer David Kynaston knows all about.

With canal boat decoration, has that changed recently?

Is that the same as it always was?

Well, we've had the old traditional Victorian canal boats

and they were wonderfully elaborate.

And that's remained with us for many years.

But of course, with the advent of computerised signage

over the last 20, almost 30 years,

people have sort of tried that.

But it doesn't lend itself to boats

and I think people take a huge pride in their boats.

You know, they get them hand-painted because they know it's nice.

And they like a bit of sign writing.

It's sort of the icing on the cake.

If I take the excess of the paint off the brush

and then what you've got to do -

you see the brush is a chisel shape, OK?

What you do is you lay it on there, you pull it in

and just follow what I've got there.

-Right, I'll have a go.

-Just go for it.

-You'll be fine.

-Oh, gosh!

Here we go.

So, decorating boats in this way is part of the rich heritage

of living and working on canals, isn't it?

Oh, absolutely.

Originally, the boats were all done by the boat people

and some of the lettering wasn't particularly brilliant on there.

You know, there was no competition

for who could do the best lettering or anything like that.

But it didn't matter, it was what it was.

It was the folk-art which was painted on the boats

and it was done by the people on them.

And I think that was what was really important about it -

that they could paint the boats themselves.

And I think that has owed a lot to how the...

the lovely sort of rustic style,

organic style has developed, really.

Well, thank you very much for letting me have a go.

Mine, of course, is nowhere near anything that you can do.

I think I need about 30 more years of practice.

I think it's fine, Liz!

-Thank you, you're very kind.

-Thank you.

I'm heading back over the border to England.

Whilst pleasure boaters

understandably tended to focus on rural areas,

some of the most dramatic changes

to occur to our canals in recent times

have been in cities.

Cities like Birmingham.

Once known as the workshop of the world,

Brum remains the heart of Britain's canal network.

In fact, speak to any Brummie

and they'll tell you there are more miles of canal here than in Venice.

This is Gas Street Basin.

At its peak, it was one of the busiest parts

of the Birmingham Canal Navigations.

But by the mid-'60s, it was increasingly underused.

Barrie Stanton kept a boat here and remembers the time well.

Well, the lasting impression was how quiet it was.

All over there were old warehouses

and they'd just gone to sleep.

And there WERE people working here

but it was a little community - not a lot of people knew about it.

It was a closed community.

People knew most everybody else in the basin

but I don't think anybody else knew of us being here.

Gas Street Basin might have been a throwback to a forgotten era,

but other parts of Birmingham were moving with the times.

Riding the express elevator

to the top of one of the city's highest buildings,

this is the view that nearly took my breath away.

In fact, a cinema short from 1981

fronted by, of all people, Telly Savalas

eulogised about Birmingham as a modern city.

And yes, even the old canals got a mention.

But what about arriving the Venetian way?

159 miles of canals and 216 locks could give you a pretty busy trip.

You arrive bang in the city centre

and it's one-upmanship of a different kind.

One-upmanship it may have been,

but in a film lasting 25 minutes,

those few lines were all Telly had to say about the canals.

In fact, I get the impression he was more of a petrolhead

than a canal enthusiast.

Birmingham's road systems are revolutionary -

a four-mile circuit of dual carriageways.

It's my kind of town.

Despite his preference for the ring road,

Telly's film does - perhaps presciently -

identify the city's canals as aspirational places.

Even if, in 1981, they were still pretty rundown.

By the late-'80s, though, things were improving

and there were ambitious plans to build a multipurpose development

right here, next to the canals in central Birmingham.

Canals were now no longer being seen as a problem,

but an opportunity.

Once they were a catalyst for industrial revolution,

now a catalyst for inner-city regeneration.

Work began on this spot in the late '80s.

There was a lot to do,

with dilapidated and derelict industrial buildings aplenty,

and Brindleyplace, as it's now known,

was eventually opened in 1995.

In a sense,

along with the development of the London Docklands,

around the same time,

it showed what could be done with canals, docks and rivers.

And you didn't necessarily need boats.

Making a virtue of the water itself was the key.

Other cities around the country took note.

And, at a time when many of Britain's cities

were desperate to boost their images

after well-publicised problems such as rioting,

regenerating the canals was seen as one route to success.

So looking at this scenery now,

it looks completely different to when it was being regenerated.

What do you think of it?

I think it's magnificent.

You've got here essentially a situation, I think,

where you can look at the canal

and you can see the past of the canal.

Some people might argue that you should preserve

everything that was here before.

But the world doesn't really work like that.

And I really think what we've achieved here

is where the traditional canal environment has informed the future

and we've got an interesting mixture of uses here

that provide both employment and leisure, and indeed housing.

And was that part of the original planning?

Yes, without a doubt.

The whole of the Brindleyplace development,

and let's not forget that it extends way beyond the canal

to beyond the buildings that we're looking at now,

was required to be a mixed-use development.

And as part of that, it was important

that everything around the edge of the Brindleyplace development

had a positive relationship with the canal.

And as a pleasure boater,

do you feel that this is a nice place to come to?

Oh, definitely.

Many a time we've actually brought the boat up to Birmingham.

Birmingham becomes the first stop.

It's a day trip up and we can stop.

And you feel remarkably safe as well.

But great fun going around in a boat.

You become the central attraction anyway.

Whatever your take on the development,

there can be no denying that this area

has been well and truly rejuvenated.

Gentrified, even.

More than 10,000 people work here

and four million visit each year.

Remind you of anything?

As well as bars, restaurants and art galleries,

part of the appeal is no doubt the way the area itself looks.

What really interests me is the mixture of architecture.

When you think of traditional canal buildings,

you think of bricks, bridges, curved archways,

girders and decorative ironwork.

Although these buildings are new,

there's definitely more than a nod to the original design.

And correct me if I'm wrong,

but isn't that a little tribute to Venice,

Europe's second most famous canal city?

Looks quite Venetian to me.

But whilst many canal-side redevelopments

have involved brand-new buildings,

developers have also been keen to find new ways

to adapt what are often unique original buildings.

This is a building that we refer to as the Roundhouse

in central Birmingham.

And the building was strategically located

between the canal and the railway line

for the Public Works Department of the city of Birmingham.

Built in 1874 with numerous stables for the horses,

the building was also used to store

the stone used to repair the city's roads,

and its location on the banks of the Birmingham Mainline canal

was crucial.

So, Lizzy, this shape,

this architecture designed around the use of horses

is very much part of the traditional canal architecture, isn't it?

Yeah, if you go to any canal,

you'll notice that often buildings are circular, octagonal, hexagonal

and it's because of this idea of the functional tradition.

Everything had a purpose

and you don't find many right angles on canal structures, bridges,

because it would have snagged the rope

which was essential for the use of horses pulling goods along.

So, what's it used for now?

It's got a few uses at the moment.

The biggest development is at the canal side of the building

where the Fiddle & Bone pub has just recently opened.

But unfortunately the majority of the building is currently vacant

so the proposed use is a community use for the building,

a place where people can come and learn about the story

of the West Midlands canal system and then go off and explore it.

Whilst larger cities realised the value of canals

in recent decades,

it's also been true for the smaller towns.

This is Stourport-on-Severn, 20 miles south west of Birmingham.

With a population of around 20,000,

it's believed to be the only town

solely built as a consequence of the canals.

With the opening of the canal to Stourport in 1771,

the town became a key location for transporting goods from Bristol

to the Midlands and the North.

During the 1800s,

Stourport became the second busiest inland port in the Midlands

after Birmingham.

The good times couldn't last forever, though.

As the 20th century wore on,

the canal areas of Stourport became sorely neglected.

Come the early 2000s, though, Stourport began to stir.

In a way we were lucky that it was neglected,

because it meant a lot of the old structures and buildings remained

and nobody had any thoughts of redevelopment.

So it was all there just waiting to be reawakened, as it were.

The initial phase was as a result of the Heritage Lottery grant

which British Waterways applied for.

And that involved restoring a lot of the structures around us here,

including reroofing the clock warehouse,

which is one of the iconic buildings of Stourport.

And I think psychologically

the developments have been very important for the town.

So would you say that local people are really proud

of their town's heritage and connection with waterways?

Yes, I think they are.

And we're trying to encourage that interest

by running two heritage rooms

and also a series of events during the course of the year.

I think the big problem is selling the town,

making outsiders, particularly,

aware of the very rich canal heritage we've got.

Stourport is a great example of a canal-side location

recognising and embracing its heritage.

But I think one of the most important legacies of the canals

is their potential for tranquillity and solitude.

Ironic, given that, at their peak, they'd have been far from quiet.

Fortuitous this may be,

but it's something Mark Robinson, from the Canal And River Trust,

says is appreciated by more than just humans.

You know, one of the things that really excites me about the canals,

and, you know, when I first joined the organisation,

that I got really excited about,

was the connectivity and how they crisscross the country.

It brings the wildlife right into the heart of our towns and cities.

And we're not far from the heart of Birmingham at the moment

and yet if I told you we were

in the middle of Dorset or somewhere like that,

you'd probably believe me.

And you can go up into Birmingham and see kingfishers.

And if we're lucky, we might see one dart past us today.

You know, it's fantastic for wildlife.

What kinds of other animals might you see

if you came at different times of day?

You might be lucky and see an otter.

Otters are making a huge recovery on our canals and rivers.

If you come at dusk, fantastic places for bats.

And what sort of fish and wildlife are actually in the water?

Huge different species - chub and roach and perch, a few big pike.

You know, one of the beauties of the canals is the connectivity.

But that also allows some of the more detrimental species

to travel around

and we are trying to manage them as best we can.

Well, there were no kingfishers to be seen today, sadly,

but when the sun is shining,

there can be few better ways to enjoy the canals

than with a leisurely boat trip.

Here in Birmingham,

the Canal And River Trust have spent the last year or so

resurfacing the towpaths.

It's not an easy job

but it's fantastic for the people who use them.

I'm just a couple of miles out of the centre of Birmingham now,

and it still feels very calm and tranquil.

But you're starting to get that buzz of the city again.

I just think it's fantastic

that people are using the canals so regularly.

And why wouldn't they?

Canals are often the most direct routes

in and out of towns and cities.

And if you ask me, they're certainly the most rewarding.

And now we're right back at the heart of the city.

Kind of beats the ring road, doesn't it?

Surely even Telly Savalas would agree with me on that.

Arriving back in the centre of Birmingham

is a good opportunity to reflect again

on all that the canals have done for us.

This spot, once a thriving, working canal,

then neglected and almost forgotten,

is bustling once more -

rich with new industry and residents.

And just look at these swanky canal-side apartments.

The water is real focal point,

not to mention a major selling point.

And it's the same in other canal towns and cities.

In a sense, we've come full circle.

Canals are as busy as ever, if not busier,

but they're far removed from the industrial places

that would have been known to navvies and the boat people of the past.

As with so much of the canal network's story,

the irony is thick.

Back in the day,

living on canals was a curious way of life,

and not always a desirable one.

Few aspired to live on a canal.

You did it out of necessity,

or you were born into that way of life.

But nowadays, canal boats have become something of a des-res.

Partly due to spiralling property prices in the UK,

the numbers living on narrow boats

has increased massively in recent years.

I've come to meet Dave Paine,

who says he always wanted to live on a narrow boat.

Five years ago, he achieved that ambition.

He says it's surpassed all his expectations.

The one downside, big downside,

is that I can touch both walls of my home

with both hands at the same time.

It's small. But once you kind of get over that,

the benefits that you get, to me, far outweigh the negatives.

And the benefits are often the more intangible things.

They are to do with community and wellbeing

and just feeling...content with what you've got.

Dave paints a positive picture,

but it's not always straightforward.

I moved onto this boat in November 2010,

just heading into what turned out to be

the coldest November, December for 30 or 40 years.

And within a few weeks of moving onto the boat

and coming to Gas Street Basin, here, the canal iced over

and didn't thaw out until...

I think it was end of January, beginning of February.

So it was a real baptism of fire, that first winter.

But I think I was just so high on the honeymoon period of it,

the newness and the novelty of the whole thing,

that I was just in love with the whole experience.

With electricity on tap, Dave doesn't want for home comforts.

But if you're thinking that living on a boat

might be a cheaper option than a house,

make sure you do your sums carefully.

You've got the ongoing mooring fees.

Here the mooring fees are in the region of £2,000 a year.

We also have a boat licence to pay on the top,

and my boat licence is in the region of £900 a year.

But then perhaps even harder to define

are the ongoing maintenance costs that are always there with a boat.

As soon as you seem to have fixed one thing,

something else goes wrong.

Maintenance isn't the only challenge facing the live-aboard community.

I am aware of situations

where there's been specific local opposition

to new marinas and moorings being put in

because of concerns about the types of people that live on boats.

But I do feel in terms of that heritage, I feel like...

Although I'm a newcomer to the canals

living in a place like Gas Street Basin,

which is surrounded by history...

You've got the old canal-side buildings

that are still here in amongst newer buildings.

You've got this structure here, which is called the Worcester Bar,

which was the original structure

that the two sides of the canal used to ship goods over.

And now I moor up against it,

and I feel very privileged to be in a place like this.

Of course, Dave and his floating neighbours

are now as much a part of the canal story as anything.

Although, in London particularly,

the increasing popularity of houseboats is causing problems.

There are now more than 3,000 houseboats in London,

twice the number of eight years ago,

and that growth is stretching the limits of the canal system.

Overall, though, things are looking good for the canals.

The future for canals is a really exciting one.

People are starting to see the real benefits of them.

They're enjoying them at the weekends, in the week.

And is there potential perhaps to open more of them?

Oh, absolutely.

At the moment, there's over 100 restoration groups

who either want to reopen sections of canals that are still in water

but just need investment,

but also there's old areas where canals used to be

that need to be dug out.

And there's also active groups who want to dig out canals

and they all work at the weekend, like they did in the '60s,

to get their little section of canal reopened

and connected to the existing system.

It'd be fantastic, wouldn't it,

to think that in 100 or 200 years' time,

people can enjoy this type of lifestyle.

I hope so.

And what I really hope is that the heritage we look after today

is still very much a part of the waterway network in the future.

So there are definite grounds for optimism,

but tourist boards certainly aren't resting on their laurels

and are forever finding new ways

of attracting new visitors to their canals.

In Scotland, they've built the Helix -

an ecopark by the Forth and Clyde Canal -

featuring these rather striking sculptures,

known as the Kelpies.

In Warwickshire,

the sculptor Anthony Gormley has recently unveiled his latest work.

And parts of the Manchester Ship Canal

are even being used for triathlons these days.

And look at the boats themselves.

In a sense, they sum up the reinvention

and the rejuvenation of the canals perfectly.

These boats - built decades ago -

were designed to carry haulage.

Nowadays, they've been adapted

to carry a different type of cargo altogether -

tourists, diners and party-goers.

When you hear people referring to the golden age of canals,

they're usually talking about the early 1800s.

But I think there's a really strong case

for saying that the golden age of canals is now.

Yes, almost everything we love about them now

has been serendipitous.

They weren't built for pleasure, but think about it -

by and large, they're in better condition than ever before,

and people actually want to use them -

to travel on them, to live on, and close by, them.

The legacy left behind by those who designed them, toiled on them,

and died building them, even,

is really appreciated.

And I think you can hardly deny

that the canals have helped to make our nation what it is.

The canals are the creations that keep on giving

more than 200 years after they were first built.

And that begs one last question.

So, shouldn't we be building some more?

I'm sure we can find room somewhere.

And after all, we know they're built to last.