As I work with my sheep in the pens, getting them ready for the autumn sheep sales, there is an unfamiliar sound on the farm – drilling. A huge rig is drilling a borehole looking for water. This is the second contractor that we have asked to try to find us a supply of water for the farm. The first one dug to 50 metres and could not find any; the second one with a larger rig is currently at 70 metres and the vibrations echo around the farmstead.
When the Romans built their fort here, they built an aqueduct down the fellside to bring water to the fort. This functioned well until the building of the motorway in the late 1960s, when a new supply was put in. The supply is a spring on Grayrigg Forest (a nearby peak).
During the last few years, we have struggled to get enough water for ourselves and our animals. This may be because of climate change, possibly coupled with land use change on the fells above, where more water is now held by the increased vegetation for flood alleviation downstream.
One of the worst times was during the first lockdown when it was very warm. We had no water for about four weeks. My parents had also just moved on to the farm. We were constantly being told by the government to wash our hands, but we were unable to. While you can buy in drinking water, it is more difficult to buy in water for washing and for the animals. You couldn’t even go to a local swimming pool or hotel for a wash as everywhere was closed.
This came after a run of very hot, dry springs, so urgent action was needed to enable three generations of our farming family to continue living here. We ended up with an industrial storage tank in the yard full of water, and buckets.
The drilling stops before teatime, and I wonder why the workers have driven off. I get a text message. No words, just a video of a jet of water squirting out of the borehole. Success. Now we need to test the water and install filters and UV zappers to make sure that it is a safe supply. We keep our fingers crossed.
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