It has been a very long time since we last had a night’s stop-over in Lower Halstow Dock, back to before Edith May’s days.
I’d contacted Geoffrey Gransden to clear our visit: the Edith May was away sailing up the East Ciast.
As we came abreast of the chosen mooring position astern if the TSBs Ardwina and Tollesbury, I rounded to fall back onto the wall – a touch of engine was needed, unfortunately…
After mooring, stowing sail and a coffee we were off on a gentle walk around the boundaries of L. Halstow and Upchurch. This is the land of my youth – from 1966.
The stack of timber was brought into the dock by the engine-less spritsail barge, Blue Mermaid.
We traversed the well worn path around the top of Glass Bottle Beach where rocks have been placed along the top to waylay coastal erosion – the problem is that the land is made from landfill and is ‘soft’ – easy pickings for the sea!
We passed by the stem and stern posts of the brickie barge Surrey poking above the tide. She was abandoned on the beach in late 1930s. Along from her sits the remains of Nile Wharf – used in bygone days by a farmer in the main.
Along the outside of the sea wall golden banks of samphire and it’s edible cousin glasswort, lower down closer to the mud line, grew in profusion.
On the inside of the wall immediately after leaving the old brickwork boundary is low land, wet with reeds growing thickly. This is the dammed off grad of Twinney Creek and marks the parish boundary here. Closer to Lower Halstow’s Dock than many appreciate.
The dock served a brickworks on the seaward edge of Upchurch and a myriad of tramlines interconnected, Dock, works and brick earth sites…
Across the saltings, belonging to Twinney, sits Twinney Dock. This was the home for the May Flower chosen by my parents chose after Whitewall Creek was left behind.
The family with the owners of the Henry resurrected the dock. The dock and land was bought over the heads of my parents by our joint tenants, thus we became, unknowingly the Henry’s tenant. My father ‘went ballistic’ on getting the quarterly rent demand…
Allotment style gardens were situated in a top corner above the ‘salt line’ – it is just grass now. The dock was purchased by current owner from those (that) owner and much gas been done to maintain a flush system, although cord grass threatens to choke the creek’s passage.
Apparently, a wedding venue is being established … stabling is already well bedded in.
My parents took a lease on Callows Wharf – long defunct but bits were still visible – where the barge was better able to come and go. A huge amount of work was needed, all family done, to make it ‘home’. That wharf too remains in use in amongst banks of cord grass towards the head of Milfordhope Creek.
The ordnance survey map showed a path running close to the dock access lane – we used the lane! It took us to Susan’s Lane where a short walk took us to a farm house (now not a farm house) and a row of cottages – Susan’s Cottages.
Turning into a field we were soon ‘lost’ for no way ahead seemed possible. Banks if nettle and thistle seemed to block the way until an oblique sort of passage was seen. It lead to a buried kissing gate (we had a kiss!).
Along a section of poorly marked pathway and barbed wire blockages!
After the kissing fate, the Lower Halstow road should have been easily accessible, however, barbed wire enclosures for ponies lay in front of us like a chequerboard.
We made our own way out, meeting a loud speaking (into a phone) young chap who wanted to know what we were about!
Trying to follow the path, we both said…
Barbed wire everywhere – Ah, sorry, he said, adding, I’ll fix that.
Yeh, sure you will!
We made it to the road by the old Methodist Chapel…
Up on the low hill sits Lower Halstow old village where hundreds and thousands of bricks were made, fired and sailed to London to be used in the late Victorian building boom.
On the green, and along the manicured roads within the old brick field, sits a clinkered clump of overcooked bricks.
Following the stream leading to the dock I was again wandering down memory lane…
Reaching the creek we found the tide had gone. Whimbrel was leaning nicely against the wall, so thoughtfully renovated by the parish council. Twenty years ago it was far from comfortable: posts were old spars and shuttering bits of barge planking, leeboards and rudders!
Back aboard Whimbrel I looked overboard and a weed infested sight net my eyes!
Once in the creek bed, a goodly crop of barnacles met my eyes too.
I set too, scraping and scrubbing.
The better part of Whimbrel’s starboard side was reached as well as the port side aft quarter and fore end – the Mate can do the rest another day!
After our evening meal, a glass at the Three Tubs beckoned…
Yes, it was a very pleasant interlude in our touring around. So interesting to see the changes at close hand, and too, to enjoy the rather lovely peaceful countryside around the watery edges of these two parishes…
The next morning, with just a favourable slant we sailed off the wharf and beat away from the dock…