Defeated by the Slaughters

OK I give up. This is the photo I’ve been trying to emulate. A haunting image of the remains of some of the 13 wherries on Rockland Broad. Or rather within Rockland Broad. The wherries were deliberately sunk, meaning that their rotting timbers only emerge at low tide. They go by the dramatic name of The Slaughters - except that they never look quite as dramatic as in this photo. I know I was there at low tide this evening because a hire crusier was comically stuck on the putty in the middle of the Broad. (“Give us a tow mate,” they asked, as I paddled by in the canoe.) I find the timbers fine – you can see photos in my first blog entry – but they are just never as clearly exposed to the elements as in this wonderful shot, borrowed from the Wherryman’s Way leaflet. Still it was a good night to be on Rockland. I went down Rockland Dyke to the Broad, across and up Short Dyke to the Yare, past the old Strumpshaw pumping house and then back down the Fleet. All in all a good workout on a still Saturday evening.

* I see Simon Barnes has got the canoe bug. Read today’s The Times column here.

Cold winters past on Rockland Broad

ON A dank, foggy morning it was difficult to see, but a few icy patches remain on the dyke between The New Inn pub and Rockland Broad. Just enough of an excuse, I'd argue, to delve back in time to another harsh winter. This story is told by W A Dutt - arguably the finest Broads writer ever - about Old Scientific Fuller, the last of the wildfowlers to make a living from hunting, shooting and fishing on Rockland. The Norfolk Broads was written in 1903 and includes Dutt's memories of meeting Fuller one cold January:

"A man who is an excellent shot and expert fisherman cannot live any great length of time near one of the Broads or rivers without attaining something of a reputation, so it is not surprising that Fuller, who possesses both these qualities and has spent about fifty years on and around Rockland Broad is well known....

"Fuller appeared from behind a reed stack just as I was knocking at his cottage door and in a few minutes we were afloat in his gun punt. In the dyke leading from the cottage there was open water; but the Broad in spite of two days' thaw was partially covered in ice through which Fuller had broken a channel for his boat early that morning.

"...For the most part ours was a rather curious progress made by pulling the boat along with a boat-hook, or scraping our oars on the ice. Yet even this was not so strange as a method Fuller adopts when the Broad is wholly "laid" and hard frozen; for then he fixes runners on to the bottom of his punt, hoists the sail and glides over the ice as though he were in an ice yacht.

"Speaking of this reminded him of a winter when the Broad was frozen several weeks. Then, a number of skaters disported themselves on the frozen shallows where the swans were now feeding and one of them, seeing Fuller skating with his gun under his arm, challenged him to shoot, while skating at full speed, a puit (black-headed gull) which was wheeling over the Broad.

"Fuller, like most Broadsmen, despises the wanton "gull-plugger"; but on this occasion, feeling his reputation to a certain extent at stake, he accepted the challenge. Holding his gun in both hands, he waited until the gull wheeled above him. He then skated after it, soon abandoning his usual stroke for that rapid run on skates which the Broadsmen resorts to when he wishes to attain a considerable speed. Then his gun went quickly to his shoulder, and a moment or two later the gull dropped almost at his feet."

Wonderfully graphic language from Mr Dutt. Great stuff.

Bad news from Rockland Broad

MARK Cocker's latest Country Diary for The Guardian makes grim reading.Rockland Broad, it appears, is heavily polluted. Anecdotal evidence from local naturalists has been confirmed by diseased clams found on the Broad's bed. Tests showed they have been infected by heavy metals perhaps stirred up by recent dredging. "It seems we now have some of the answer to what has befallen Rockland," he writes, "but can these effects now be reversed? * Read the column in full here

Prime-time Broads ...but which Broads?

I'VE thoroughly enjoyed Griff Rhys Jones's River Journeys on BBC1 over the last few weeks. Swooping aerial shots, travellers' tales and gnarled locals enjoying their prime-time time moment, you know the score. Tonight GRJ is on the Broads ...but on which bit of the Broads I wonder? Mark Wells, the creator of the Wherryman's Way, speaks very eloquently about how the guide books always focus on the Northern Broads: a bit of Bure, a bit of Thurne plus - say - St Benet's Abbey and Horsey Mill. No sign of the Yare, no sign of Rockland Broad, Berney Arms or the other wonders of the Wherryman's Way. So does Griff escape the cliches? We'll have to wait till 9pm tonight.

The Rockland Broad gym - free membership

ROCKLAND Broad was as tranquil as I've ever seen it yesterday evening. Just me, my canoe and some great crested grebes who bobbed underwater when I got too close.

After crossing the broad, I headed down Short Dyke and into the sturdier waters of the River Yare. The idea was to paddle up as far as the deserted steam pumping station at Buckenham and then return along Fleet Dyke (pictured) to the Broad itself.

A hundred and thirty years ago I would have been spoilt for choice. Writing in the 1880s, PH Emerson wrote that “the Broad debouches into the river by seven mouths, locally called Fleet Dyke, Rockland Dyke, Black Dyke, Big Sallow Bush Dyke, Little Sallow Bush Dyke, Jerrymarsh Dyke and Short Dyke.” Today just Fleet and Short remain.

All in all, it was a good upper-body workout. An outdoor gym complete with overflying herons and the ghostly remains of wherries as added attractions.

Rockland Broad: a bolt from the blue

STRANGE islands are strung across the width of Rockland Broad. Strange because they are all roughly the same length and follow a straight line. Mature trees might grow there and swans may make their nests , but these islands were not built by nature.

Instead they are the remains of at least a dozen wherries, sunk during the Second World War. They are known as the Slaughters - an appropriately gruesome name you might think.

Unfortunately you can't see the islands from the path that Wherryman's Way walkers take as they head out from Rockland Staithe towards Claxton. But one day last summer, I paddled my canoe down from that same staithe to take a closer look. Because they say these hulks emerge at low tide. At first I saw nothing; low tide at Rockland, I discovered, is an awful lot later than the quoted figure for Yarmouth in the tide tables book.

But as I was about to give up I suddenly found my canoe grounded on the unmistakeable remains of ship's timbers. Peering beneath the murky surface, I could also make out some sort of bolt with a rounded head - you can just make it out at the bottom of this photo. One arm went in up to the shoulder - no easy job in an unstable canoe - and ten seconds later I was the proud owner of a 27" iron bolt.

The remains of Star of Hope, Gleaner, Unexpected, Diligent, Chieftain, Providence, Cambra, Madge, Tiger, Empress, Leverett and Myth all lie beneath the Broad. I can't prove it but I reckon my bolt belonged to either Chieftain or Providence. Whatever ...it's a proper bit of wherry history - and it's mine.

So why won't Mrs Silk let me keep it on the mantlepiece?