A gentle seven-mile walk that takes in a Victorian transshipment warehouse, a soaring aqueduct, and some of the finest gritstone scenery in the North.
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The Grand Union's Hatton Flight: What It's Really Like to Work 21 Locks in a Day

Narrowboat Travel  |  September 10, 2026
The Grand Union's Hatton Flight: What It's Really Like to Work 21 Locks in a Day

Twenty-one locks, rising just over 146 feet, spread across two miles of Warwickshire countryside. The Hatton Flight, on the Grand Union Canal between Warwick and Hatton, is one of the great set pieces of the English canal network. Every boater has an opinion on it. Some love it, some dread it, and everyone remembers their first time.

We tackled it southbound on a bright, breezy morning in early autumn, with two of us on board and a dog who had no intention of helping. The flight starts gently enough, with the first few locks spaced out and the paddle gear reasonably well behaved. You settle into a rhythm quickly: one person steering into the lock, the other stepping off to work the gates, then a short cruise to the next one while the other catches up. Two people is the practical minimum for a comfortable run. One person can do it, but it's slow, and by lock fifteen you'll feel it.

The rhythm of the flight

What nobody tells you is how quickly the flight becomes a machine. Each lock is the same shape, the same sequence, the same small decisions. Open the paddles, wait for the water, push the gate, bring the boat in, close up, drop the paddles, open the other end. After an hour you stop thinking about it and start noticing everything else — the way the light comes through the trees, the heron that follows you for half a mile, the other boaters coming the other way.

Volunteer lock keepers often work the flight in summer, and their help is transformative. With a keeper setting ahead and helping with gates, a crew of two can knock two or three hours off the run. They know the quirks of each lock, which paddle is stiff and which gate needs a shoulder, and they'll tell you exactly where to stop for a break. Be polite, offer them a cup of tea if you're moored nearby, and don't take them for granted — they're volunteers, and the flight would be a much harder day without them.

What to expect and how to prepare

The physical toll is real. Working locks means walking, often briskly, sometimes up and down a slope, and doing it twenty-one times. Wear gloves. Wear boots with grip. Keep water on board and drink it. The single most common mistake is to push straight through without stopping, and the second is to be too proud to share a lock with another boat and halve the work.

Do share. Boats travelling in the same direction can work the flight together, one crew setting ahead while the other closes up behind. It's faster, easier and considerably more sociable. If you meet a boat coming the other way, wait for them to leave before you enter — the etiquette is straightforward and everyone benefits.

At the top, the reward is a long, level pound towards Warwick and Leamington, and the satisfaction of having done something genuinely substantial. Find a quiet mooring, put the kettle on, and sit down for an hour. You've earned it, and the flight will still be there tomorrow, waiting to be done in reverse.