KNEE deep in sludge, in a watery tip where everything from rusting cars to kitchen sinks lurked – even, bizarrely, a child’s coffin – a small group of enthusiasts rolled up their sleeves to begin a mammoth clean-up job.

No longer the once bustling water motorway that saw sea-going vessels and barges transport everything from crops to livestock, to passengers from the port of Grangemouth to the heart of Glasgow, the world’s first man-made sea to sea ship canal, the Forth & Clyde, was in its death throes.

Opened in 1790 to serve the industrial revolution and closed in 1963, the waterway was derelict. Choked with weeds, tow paths littered with crisp packets and broken bottles, filthy water and everything including the kitchen sink beneath its calm surface, Scotland’s longest lowland canal and its eastern cousin, the Union Canal, shared the honours of being dangerous, smelly eyesores.

Without the efforts of small groups of passionate “canal-aholics” who cleared junk and weeds from clogged locks, the canals would almost certainly have been filled in or simply left to fall into disrepair.

Instead, this May will mark 20 years since the ambitious millennium project to revitalise the two canals reached its climax.

After a breathtaking two years of work that saw the cluttered canals cleaned, a new 5km stretch of Union Canal created at Edinburgh’s Wester Hailes, some 36 major obstacles overcome, seven new opening bridges and 28 road bridges built, nine new locks, 38 masonry bridge refurbishments and 300,000 tons of silt removed, a new chapter in the life of the two waterways began.

Over two decades, the £83.5 million Millennium Link has transformed areas around the once grim waterways into prime real estate, sparking the construction of thousands of houses, inspired new businesses from cycle rentals to water sports centres, created mini communities of brightly painted houseboats and become thriving havens for wildlife.

Enjoyed by walkers, cyclists, anglers and canoeists, perhaps most surprisingly for those who once collected rubbish from its surface, they have attracted tourists from around the world.

“We used to clean up the canal and it was absolutely shocking,” recalls Tommy Lawton, one of the founders of the Forth and Clyde Canal Society which, with other canal groups across the central belt, helped drive forward the idea of a revived canal network.

“There were parts of the canal just behind Kirkintilloch and Twechar where there was so much rubbish dumped, you could walk across the water – and we often did.

“We bought two old barges from British Waterways for £50 each, put in new bottoms and outdoor motors. Then we sailed along, picking up the rubbish.

“Once, at Lambhill in Glasgow, we brought up a small child’s coffin. It was empty, it had been stolen from an undertaker’s, but it was very distressing.

“We pulled out prams by the score, bikes, kitchen sinks, dead dogs, mattresses, everything you can think of.”

In Falkirk, where the 35-mile Forth & Clyde gradually rose from sea level and lifted vessels through a series of more than a dozen locks to a meeting point with the Union Canal.

Both waterways were forbidding spots favoured by drunks and teenage gangs – far from today’s pleasant tow paths where cyclists and walkers rack up the miles between the Kelpies and the Falkirk Wheel.

However, the dawning of a new millennium and millions of pounds of National Lottery money for landmark projects to celebrate, raised the possibility that something could be done.

British Waterways, then in charge of Britain’s 2,000 miles of canals, suggested reviving the Forth and Clyde and Union Canals in 1994, arguing it would boost tourism, leisure and industry.

Initially rejected, it would be four years before the scheme really took off – and still not everyone was on board. “There were lots of negative vibes,” remembers Tommy. “We got together with other canal societies and ran roadshows, we had stands with pictures of the canals that we put up in shopping centres and collected signatures of supporters. We got 35,000 signatures in six weeks – remember this was well before social media.

“When the Lottery came back and said they would provide funding for the Forth and Clyde Canal and the Union Canal as well, we just about fell through a hole in the ground.”

Richard Miller, Scottish Canals director of infrastructure, was a graduate engineer in 1999 appointed to work on the Millennium Link. “A lot of people had a lot of doubts,” he recalls. “Why spend £83.5 million on reopening a canal, why not built a school or hospital?

“But the Millennium Link has definitely delivered on that £83.5 million investment from 20 years ago.”

One economic report from late 2019 suggested Scotland’s reborn canals had inspired £1.53 billion of investment in or around their banks, with more than 9000 homes built and almost the same number of main construction jobs supported.

While last summer, with the world reeling from Covid-19 and Scots emerging from lockdown to explore their local areas and reboot amid nature, a Glasgow Caledonian University study revealed the death rate figures for communities living close to canals had lowered since they had been regenerated.

No longer dumping grounds, the canals provide nature corridors for deer, kingfishers, otters, foxes and pollinators.

“There is now good quality green and blue space,” says Richard. “It has delivered 20 times the original investment and created health benefits for people of Scotland which has been put at £12m.

“It’s a national asset.”

Both canals are drenched in history.

Work on the Forth & Clyde Canal began in 1768, triggered by the Industrial Revolution as manufacturers sought a fast way to share their products and trade ballooned.

Rising from the port at Grangemouth at the mouth of the River Carron, it followed the line of the Antonine Wall and lifted boats through a flight of locks at Falkirk towards Glasgow.

Jacobite money seized following the 1745 rebellion enabled the remaining locks to Bowling to be constructed in 1790.

Almost two decades later, a bitterly cold winter that led to coal shortages in Edinburgh’s expanding New Town prompted moves to construct a new canal link with the west. Among the navvies to construct the 31-mile Union Canal were notorious murderers Burke and Hare.

But faster railways, the closure of the port of Grangemouth following the First World War and new motorway links brought their demise.

“From the day they closed people wrote letters to newspapers saying it was madness, but they weren’t listened to,”

says Mr Miller. “It was down to volunteers to try to keep them open.”

It took a mammoth effort between 1999 and 2001 to fulfil the Millennium Link’s promise to revive the canals. The opening of the Falkirk Wheel the following year secured their position as a major tourist attraction, while the Kelpies have become internationally recognised.

And the canals are still evolving. A £12.8m footbridge – not far off the full cost of the entire Millennium Link project – will create a traffic-free link between Maryhill, Gilshochill and Ruchill for the first time since the Forth & Clyde Canal opened in 1790.

It will provide a traffic-free link to Bowling, enabling cyclists and walkers to travel unimpeded on to Loch Lomond.

There are hopes for new freight opportunities, with potential for “clean” hydrogen energy created at certain canal sites to be exported by boat to city centres.

Fibre optic cables already run along certain stretches helping to deliver utilities, while a revolutionary £17m “smart canal” system manages flood risk and has unlocked 110 hectares across the north of Glasgow for investment and up to 3,000 new homes.

Much of it is down to the weekend “canal-aholics”.

“Without the volunteers, the likes of Tommy and others digging in the muck and bringing boats to the canal and getting action, the canals would have been filled in,” adds Mr Miller.

“They are heroes of canal restoration who have left this legacy and we are so grateful for what they did.”