A linear walk along the River Roach seawall, from Rochford to Paglesham, where the remnants of Charles Darwin’s famous ship, the Beagle, lie hidden in the saltmarsh.
Walking the River Roach
Rochford sits at the tidal limit of the River Roach, where the Roach is little more than a stream. From the railway station it’s a short walk to The Horse and Groom, where a footpath breaks away from the town and leads to the river.
The path is densely overshadowed by trees and the river flows alongside in a deep ditch, its level dictated by the tides. The winding channel soon opens out into a wide expanse of reedbeds, the remnants of a large mill pond. For many years this pool stored water to drive a series of tide mills at Stambridge, but it’s now silted up and overgrown.
Stambridge Mills
Many mills have stood at Stambridge Mills, dating back to at least 1762, each succeeding the former. Almost all that’s now left are two relatively modern storage towers, rising from a barren expanse of cracked concrete, awaiting demolition and redevelopment.
The footpath traces a line across the dam that separates the tide pool and the creekhead, and then around Stambridge Mills. Although fenced, people still access the site. A young family were crabbing from the disused, concrete wharf, a high tide lapping close to their feet.
From Mill Road a path cuts east, crossing a field and then through a small wood. The dark water of two fishing lakes glints through the foliage, possibly indicating another old mill pond. The enclosed path opens up, unexpectedly, onto a large green and cricket pitch.
A sign to the right warns of ‘No coastal access rights’ between 15 April and 15 September, presumably to protect birds nesting along the seawall. After the green, the footpath takes a sharp turn and follows a tight, tree-lined passage to the seawall and the Roach.
The River Roach
At high tide, the flooded saltmarsh lining the river is a fractal maze of convoluted channels. These drain as the tide falls, revealing steep gullies of mud, where ghost-white egret stalk their prey.
In mid-August, the seawall path was tightly wrapped with wild grasses, their parched stems prickling against bare legs. A section had been burned clear by wildfire, leaving dark gouges where the flame had followed roots into the embankment earth.
Mid-river, a large metal barge was slowly turning in the tide, its cargo a ruined pleasure cruiser.
Bartonhall Creek
At Bartonhall Creek the path is forced on a detour away from the river, and around a wide inlet of saltmarsh. At the head of the creek, the path drops down from the seawall, and a peaceful lane leads to Hampton Barns. After a few old farm buildings the path turns from the road and back towards the river. If you’d not already noticed a strong aroma, you will now.
Large mounds of cockle shells are piled high, a byproduct of the local shellfish industry. Picked of their flesh, the shells are still of use. Their crushed, crystal-white fragments are used to surface local backroads and carparks. Gulls perch and scavenge atop the mounds, rising lightly into the breeze as the walker passes by.
The path returns to the top of the seawall around the Bartonhall Creek, but realistically, an inland track of broken shell is easier going. This lane parallels the path, and although separated by a ditch, there’s an easy path back to the river.
The seawall path isn’t often walked, and can be so thick with high summer grasses that an ankle-twisting hole or burrow could go unseen.
Barling Marsh
As the seawall returns to the main river, a lone pillbox looks across the river towards Barling Marsh, where innocuous-looking, low-rolling hills mask a huge landfill site. Like many Essex marshes, the land was first quarried for sand and gravel, and the exhausted quarry was then used as a dumping ground for landfill.
The Barling Marsh landfill site is still active, but from across the creek it’s hard to tell. The site no longer accepts household waste, so the telltale clouds of hungry gulls have moved elsewhere.
The path continues along the embankment, tangled and overgrown. Out on the saltings, flocks of geese and gulls roost, warily taking to the wing as the walker passes by. Across the river, Barlinghall Creek joins the Roach and splits Barling Marsh from Potton Island, owned by the Ministry of Defence and off-limits to the public.
Back in the 1980s the low-lying island was considered as a potential long-term storage site for high-level nuclear waste – an idea that thankfully never made it of the drawing board.
A forgotten yacht lies close to the path, berthed in a tight gully. Her name and her colour have faded over the years, and although apparently undamaged, her fate seems sealed. I wonder who guided her in, and took the time to secure her with lines, before walking away, perhaps knowing they wouldn’t return.
Paglesham boatyard and HMS Beagle
The path now approaches Paglesham boatyard, where a small cluster of barges huddle around a slipway and jetty. One or two are houseboats, the others perhaps waiting conversion. Inland, a fenced enclosure secures small open boats and a storage hut made of corrugated iron, coated in peeling red paint.
A sign on the seawall points east to HMS Beagle, perhaps over-promising on the view that awaits. At the end of her life, the Beagle, famously associated with Charles Darwin, was stationed here as a Coastguard Watch Vessel.
This was a static base for coastguards, whose principle job was stopping smuggling. And a lot of that went on in the Essex creeks, back in the day.
Once she was retired, the Beagle was probably stripped of any useful wood or metal, and the body of the ship is long gone, but the keel is believed to be preserved under the salty mud. There’s nothing to see, other than a small interpretation panel, overlooking the saltmarsh.
Just beyond the Beagle’s resting place lie a series of well-preserved oyster beds, which were clearly worked into the 20th century. Oyster beds, or pits, aren’t uncommon along this coastline, but they’re usually simple rectangular cuts in the saltmarsh, and long disused.
These beds look recently used, and are edged with flagstones, wild samphire now growing between their rough joints. A simple building of concrete, with a corrugated iron roof and raised brick foundations, probably provided rudimentary shelter for a watchman, protecting a valuable crop.
The oysters would have been dredged from the Roach and other nearby creeks. They’d then have been fattened in the beds, sluiced twice a day in fresh tidal waters, until ready for market.
The abandoned tug boat
A couple of low-lying hulks lie abandoned by the oyster beds, but the eye is drawn to a strangely shaped hulk resting just beyond the beds. It seems to consist of a large cabin and one or two funnels, either iron or steel, all painted red with rust. The cabin is poised on two large, square metal tanks, and all sit in the remnants of a small, wooden hull.
It’s a curious wreck, and I was struggling to find any history, until I dropped a line the local Paglesham Past and Present website. This is their reply:
“The rusting boat was a small tug and was towed to where it remains now in the 1980’s. I don’t recall where it came from originally… There was a young boy of about 14 yrs and his dad living on it for a couple of years.
“One night the gas tanks were set alight but the two were able to escape before the tanks exploded and burnt the boat to its existing condition. Dad and son never returned. The boat has been left in situ since then.”
Return to Rochford
With the sun heading towards the horizon, I returned to the boatyard and hit the trail back to Rochford. On one side of the path, large flocks of geese were grazing amid the stubble of inland fields, bathed in golden light. On the other side, the tide had slipped away, leaving soft, silver mudbanks, dipping towards the water’s edge.
A quick check on my mobile for train times revealed that London-bound departures from Rochford on a Bank Holiday evening might stop rather earlier than I’d expected. This put a bit of a spring into my step, but I still enjoyed the hike back, walking into the low sun, my shadow following, not wanting to leave.
This was a solo walk on 25 August 2025. This there and back walk is an estimated 20km or 12.5 miles.
For a couple of other local walks see
- Estuary walk from Paglesham in Essex & the Beagle’s final resting place
- Walking the River Roach: Rochford to Barling Ness
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