Medway Archives - Remote London https://www.remotelondon.com/tag/medway/ Wild spaces & solitude on the edges of London Mon, 28 Aug 2023 20:51:08 +0000 en-GB hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.1 https://www.remotelondon.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/Greater-London-outline-favicon.png Medway Archives - Remote London https://www.remotelondon.com/tag/medway/ 32 32 179982959 From the Swale to Bedlams Bottom, a Medway Marshes walk https://www.remotelondon.com/swale-bedlams-bottom-medway-walk/ Sat, 19 Aug 2023 15:50:43 +0000 https://www.remotelondon.com/?p=10994 A circular walk in the Medway Marshes, from the Sheppey Crossing to the wrecks at Bedlams Bottom, then back to the Swale.

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This walk starts where the King’s Ferry once shuttled between the Isle of Sheppey and the Kentish mainland. Today, the modern Sheppey Crossing sweeps high overhead, dwarfing the older Kingsferry Bridge, which still carries rail and road. Up until 1860, no bridges stood here, and ferries were the only way to cross the Swale.

Three hundred years ago, the ferry keeper had “a Priviledge to drudge for Oysters” here. It must have been peaceful. Now, jet skiers tear the water and shatter the peace, tracking endlessly back and forth, circling and going nowhere.

There’s room to park here, and Swale station has somehow survived. A single platform is served by trains from Sittingbourne.

A woman in winter clothing walking along an embankment path, between two tall navigational markers on poles, for shipping on the Swale

The Saxon Shore Way

The Saxon Shore Way follows the Swale, and we head north-west, treading the cropped grass of the sea wall. Ferry Marshes lie inland; drainage channels in the wet pasture reflecting the winter sky. Robust horses graze to a backdrop of pylons and distant industrial stacks.

Horses grazing in flooded fields, with pylons and tall industrial stacks in the background, some billowing steam

Away from the jet skis this is a peaceful, if exposed landscape. Few trees grow here. In the far distance, massive tankers cruise the deep-water channels of the Medway, and the white stacks* of Grain Power Station catch the eye.

At Chetney Marshes the path cuts inland, rendering further access along the sea wall untenable. If we could continue, we’d find ourselves within a stone’s throw of Deadmans Island. This low-lying saltmarsh was used to bury the numerous dead of prison ships and isolation hulks. Erosion has opened the old graves and scattered nameless human bones along the foreshore.

Pylons stretch to the horizon, across a flat landscape. In the distance, a large container ship is proceeding along the unseen Medway, with the Isle of Grain in the far distance.

Following the path below a line of pylons, a large, circular earthwork can be seen on the left. Perhaps once used to shelter livestock, its ancient purpose is no longer clear.

The landscape is flat but wild. A few scrubby bushes have managed to set root in the shelter of ditches; others cling to the frame of an old wind pump.

Meeting the angriest man in Kent

The path crosses a lane, marked as a bridleway on OS Maps, which leads to a remote cluster of modern barn buildings and grain silos. The OS Maps show the path continuing, as far as a lost farmstead known as New Chetney. But the way is blocked, with a plethora of keep out signs. Up close the place looked sinister, with a dead rabbit smeared into black, muddy tyre tracks.

Heading back to the path, we noticed a pick-up truck approaching. The driver swung his vehicle over to block our way and we got to meet the angriest man in Kent. I’ve never heard the f-bomb dropped so frequently, as he harangued us for trespassing on his private lane. He wasn’t interesting in listening, or reasoning, or explaining why a public right of way was now his and his only.

Others have written that this landscape has a darkness, a threatening vibe, but I’d never felt it before. I’ve felt it now. This man was consumed with anger, diseased with rage. It wasn’t a pleasant encounter.

I caught up with my companion, who’d wisely walked away from the abuse while I’d tried to reason. Ahead, another inlet of the Medway beckoned, the low sun glittering across the golden, tidal mud.

A woman, dressed in winter clothing, scans mudflats with binoculars.

Stangate Creek and HMS Éclair

Chetney Hill, to the right, is a circular half-island, connected to the mainland by a narrow neck of land. In 1801 this was chosen to be the site for a quarantine station, although the station seems to have only been partially built. Based on the ‘lazarettos’ of the Mediterranean trading ports, this would have been a place where sailors and passengers arriving in the Medway could be isolated, during times of epidemic disease.

Ships which did arrive carrying disease were often forced to anchor in the sheltered creeks. HMS Éclair arrived here in 1845, its crew decimated by yellow fever, after a torturous return journey from West Africa. Having been sent out to suppress the Sierra Leone slave trade (recently abolished in Britain) the Éclair limped back to Portsmouth. However, the authorities took one look at the diseased vessel and told it to continue to the Medway, and Stangate Creek.

The sick were removed to other ships for care, while the survivors remained on board. Subsequently, the white members of the crew were also relocated, leaving the Kroomen (West African crew members) on board.

The evening sun is very low in a clear winter sky, and is reflected in a wide, flat landscape of mudflats and water.

Sidney Bernard and his solitary grave

More than half of the ship’s crew had already died on the journey that brought the Éclair from West Africa to this remote spot on the Kent coast, including the captain, the surgeon and the assistant surgeon. On route, the stricken vessel had been refused permission to land at the island of Madeira, but Sidney Bernard, the 27-year-old assistant surgeon on HMS Rolla, offered his services and was appointed surgeon to the Éclair.

At Stangate Creek, five more crew died, followed by Sidney Bernard. His solitary grave is sited on Burntwick Island, at the mouth of the creek. At the time, it wasn’t understood that yellow fever isn’t contagious but is caused by a virus, transmitted by mosquito bites. It’s likely that infectious mosquitos were still breeding in the warm, damp bowels of the steam-driven Éclair, unnoticed, but deadly.

At the time, it wasn’t unusual for ocean-travelling ships to lose half their crews to disease, but Sidney Bernard’s death drew attention to these losses, and to the brutal quarantine treatment which could await those who survived.

Martyred in the British press, the death of Bernard helped, in part, to focus attention on the plight of the navy and the conditions endured by naval crews. This in turn led to transformative public health reforms, sowing seeds for today’s National Health Service.

Bedlams Bottom

Continuing along the creek, one reaches Bedlams Bottom, where a graveyard of abandoned vessels lies along the coastal path. Twenty-five hulks have been recorded, although some have now decayed beyond recognition, or are lost below the mud. With the winter’s sun low on the horizon, we didn’t linger long, but followed the footpath to the lane at Raspberry Hill, and then across fields to Sheppey Way.

An old, disused and decrepit wooden boat lies at an angle on the Medway mudflats.

At Sheppey Way, the path was (at the time of writing) completely lost in a tangle of undergrowth, so we followed the road until picking up the path alongside. Under a pale moon the route wasn’t always clear, but the sweeping heights of the Sheppey Crossing gave us something to aim for.

A woman walking across a narrow wooden footbridge with dry winter reeds on either side. The moon is bright in a clear sky.

Ridham Dock

Back at the Swale, and in no rush to leave, we followed the coastal path east for about a kilometre, to the mouth of Ridham Dock. The path detours inland here, around the docks, so we headed back to the bridges, and bade our farewell to the moonlit marshes.

A floodlit dock entrance at low tide, with two tall cranes. The floodlight is reflected in the water.
Boats rest tilting on mudflats at low tide, under a clear, moonlit sky. The moon is reflected in the mud and distant water. Pylons in the distance look like tall masts.

Once, we might have slaked our thirst at the Lord Nelson, overlooking the approach to the ferry crossing. Known locally as the First and Last, and dating back to at least 1841, the pub was apparently swept away by the construction of the first bridge, the Kingsferry, in 1959. No sign remains, of either the pub or of the large, second world war pillbox which protected the road and rail crossings here.

A black and white photograph of a pub standing alone beside a lane. There is a wooden picket fence and some men and boys with bicycles. The words 'Style & Winch Ales' are written in large letters on the side of the pub.

More information

My thanks to Kirsten D for joining me on this walk, undertaken in January 2022. We used a car for this one. Swale station is served by an hourly train service, including weekends.

* One of the three stacks collapsed during Storm Eunice in February 2022.

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]]> 10994 Walking the Hoo Peninsula, from Strood to Kingsnorth Power Station & back https://www.remotelondon.com/hoo-peninsula-strood-to-kingsnorth-power-station/ Sat, 10 Oct 2020 18:02:36 +0000 https://www.remotelondon.com/?p=1389 This looping Medway shoreline walk offers big skies & saltmarsh, a ship graveyard & a crumbling 17th century fort, a Second World War Stop Line & a Soviet submarine

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The landscape in front of Strood Railway Station has been swept clean, leaving a broad stretch of fenced-off flatlands awaiting redevelopment. This will be Strood Riverside, a mix of residential apartments and public spaces overlooking the Medway. 

Upstream, the old river wharves have been replaced with a concrete play area and a strip of green. At the broken end of Strood Pier, a sunken barge drowns twice a day with the incoming tides. A large, slightly dilapidated submarine is floating offshore. This incongruous vessel is a Soviet Navy submarine from the Cold War, renamed the Black Widow. The submarine is currently in private hands and undergoing restoration.

Soviet Navy submarine on the Medway at Strood
Submarine U-475 Black Widow off Stood

Saxon Shore Way

The Saxon Shore Way follows Riverside Road east along the Medway, before climbing a narrow chalk ridge between two exhausted chalk quarries. Glimpses to the south reveal the Medway City Estate, a congestion of warehouses and light industry. Much of this was unspoilt saltmarsh until around the 1970s, when it was lost to landfill and later development.

The path drops down to the busy Berwick Way then follows the noisy A289, funnelling traffic below the Medway. The narrow footpath then pushes along the edge of a MOD training base, hemmed in by a razor-wire topped fence.

Upnor Castle

At Upper Upnor we finally escape to a quieter, gentler landscape, squeezing past the MOD base and down to the riverside. Upnor Castle blocks progress but the steep, narrow High Street is charming, with a pubs either end.

The footpath follows the castle walls east, before dropping down to the old Ordnance Works. An old rail line appears from under the wall before running into the dark undergrowth. A derelict WW2 shelter can be seen along its lost track, the bricks wrapped in bramble and ivy.

Looking up a stepped and overgrown footpath bordered by a high brick wall
Upnor Castle perimeter wall

Boatyards and yacht clubs follow at Lower Upnor before the Saxon Shore Way really meets the shoreline. It’s good to feel the beach crunch underfoot. This path is tidal, so best avoided on a high spring tide. Another footpath tracks inland, a route which I’ll walk on my return.

The coast here is wooded, with occasional tracks leading up into the trees. In places, low sandy banks catch the sunlight. These are peppered with the tunnels of mining bees, hundreds of small caves, reminiscent of ancient cliff dwellings. In early October, dozens of bees were still attending their nests, too busy to be bothered by my attention.

Close-up of a sandy cliff with lots of pencil-sized holes
A mining bee perched on the steep sandy wall

A Second World War pillbox slants forwards onto the foreshore here, undermined by the Medway tides.

A pill box leans onto a shingle beach. Behind it is a steep wooded bank. The sea is blue and flat, about six metres from the pill box.

Cockham Wood Fort

The remains of Cockham Wood Fort also guard this stretch of coastline. A rare survivor from the 17th century, the fort was built in 1669 and boasted more than 40 guns, capable of firing from two tiers. The fort was abandoned in 1818 and gradually fell prey to the theft of building materials and coastal erosion. Now, only the brickwork of the lower battery is easily accessible.

A series of low brick arches are supported on a base of red, heavily eroded bricks. A large lump of eroded brickwork lies in front of the structure, on the sloping beach. The scene is backed by trees behind the fort.
Cockham Wood Fort, dating from 1699

More boatyards follow, the path cutting a line through Port Werburgh. This is now a gated community, offering secure accommodation afloat or in identikit ‘luxury’ homes. The older piers at either end of the harbour are made from hulked concrete barges, re-used following the Second World War.

Ship graveyard

Leaving the boat yards behind, the path passes a cluster of wrecks, slowly decaying in the soft Medway mud. There are at least ten abandoned barges here, with other boats decaying alongside them. The saltmarsh around them is now a precious wildlife habitat. The estuary was once lined with such saltings, but only scraps remain.

Tilted wooden wrecks are half submerged by the rising tide under a blue sky
Many working boats have ended their days like this, abandoned at the high tide mark
A decaying wooden barge, viewed from the broken stern, surrounded by saltmarsh. Beyond it, the river wall and path.
An unknown wooden hulk, partially broken, in her final resting place

Out in the Medway, Hoo Island lies long and low on the water. Fort Hoo (1871) sits at the eastern edge, guarding the estuary. There was once a causeway out to the island, of which remnants remain. Most of the island has been used for landfill, layered over lost saltmarsh.

The Hoo Stop Line

Continuing along the trail, a pill box has been partially engulfed by the sea wall. Along with a nearby anti-tank blockhouse, this was port of the Second World War Hoo Stop Line. A deep, wide ditch formed a defensive line which stretched inland. At the shoreline, concrete anti-tank blocks still lead out into the estuary mud.

Three large, square blocks of concrete stand in a row, surrounded by water, under a blue sky
Anti-tank blocks with the cranes of Long Reach Jetty in the distance
A blockhouse, inland of the obstacle blocks, would have housed a powerful anti-tank gun

Another structure, probably dating from the Second World War, can be seen half a kilometre farther on. Four u-shaped concrete brackets (one has fallen) once supported something, but nobody seems sure what.  

Kingsnorth Power Station

The path continues along the river wall. The scenery inland is of reedbeds, wet grazing marsh and pylons. Ahead lies the last standing remains of Kingsnorth Power Station, the bulk of the structure having been razed to the ground. The chimney here was formerly one of the UK’s tallest structures, a fallen landmark which towered 198 metres (650 ft) in height.

Looking inland as the path approaches the site of Kingsnorth Power Station
Looking inland as the path approaches the site of Kingsnorth Power Station
A low wide block, resembling a warehouse, is all that remains of the once much taller power station
Kingsnorth Power Station once rose high above this building, dominating the landscape

The dead power station is guarded by tall, electric fences. On the seaward side, curving concrete defences rebuff storm tides. Kingsnorth Jetty stretches out into the Medway, from where huge quantities of coal were unloaded. EU clean air directives forced closure of the polluting power station, with demolition beginning in 2014. The chimney finally fell in March 2018.

Close up on sea wall at Kingsnorth Power Station
At the far end of the pier, three cranes stand vacant

The path is forced inland here, skirting the marsh. A flutter of distinctive wings drew my eye to a peregrine falcon, which rose to a pylon perch. These marvellous predators are making a comeback after years of persecution, a rare success story. At Burnt House Farm I took the path west. I did not stroke the dog.

A friendly looking retriever stands upright, with their paws on the fence, behind a sign saying to not stroke are dogs

The public right of way is quickly lost, blocked by a low mound of spoil. Thankfully, I had an OS map and was confident of my direction. As I climbed over the ridge I spotted a Devil’s coach horse beetle scrambling for cover, a bold and fearsome little carnivore.

The overgrown path heads west, between a high ridge of vegetated spoil and excavation pits. After passing the wooded edges of Abbots Pools, the rough track reconnects with the Saxon Shore Trail, which then follows Abbots Court Road. A pillbox by the road is another indicator of the old Hoo Stop Line.

Looking north over the gravel pits
Looking north over the gravel pits

St Werburgh Church

Cutting past St Werburgh Church, once can’t help noticing the massive family vault of Mr Richard Everist, dating from 1830. Everist was a yeoman farmer, a man who owned his own land, and he clearly did well from it.

The path continues along a straight, private road with permissible access. The bare fields on either side would have been boring were it not for a generous band of sunflowers, sown for wildlife rather than profit. The sunflower heads hung dark and heavy, still ripe with seed. When autumn’s migratory birds arrive from the east, these field edges will provide a welcome refuelling stop.  

Sunflowers silhouetted against a blue sky
These dead and dying sunflowers still have much to give

A narrow, fenced path through the edge of Chattenden village leads down to the welcoming, winding paths of Cockham Wood. These lead back to Lower Upnor and the Medway, from where I could retrace my steps in the fading light, back to Stood Railway Station and a return to the other world of London.

Medway Estuary at dusk from Lower Upnor
Medway Estuary at dusk from Lower Upnor

More information

 The Thameslink service from London Bridge to Strood takes just over an hour. If visiting from London, note that Strood station is outside of the Oyster Card fare zone.

For a Peninsula walk on the far side of Kingsnorth Power Station see Walking the Stoke Saltings on Kent’s Hoo Peninsula

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