Sheppey Archives - Remote London https://www.remotelondon.com/tag/sheppey/ Wild spaces & solitude on the edges of London Tue, 11 Aug 2020 18:44:52 +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 Sheppey Archives - Remote London https://www.remotelondon.com/tag/sheppey/ 32 32 179982959 Shellness to Harty, a remote island walk with a refreshing pub https://www.remotelondon.com/shellness-to-harty/ Tue, 11 Aug 2020 18:43:50 +0000 https://www.remotelondon.com/?p=1267 Shellness lies at the eastern edge of the Isle of Sheppey, an end-of-the-road, low headland overlooking the North Sea. The saltwater…

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Shellness lies at the eastern edge of the Isle of Sheppey, an end-of-the-road, low headland overlooking the North Sea. The saltwater horizon is breached to the south by the Kentish coast, distant Whitstable shimmering through a summer sea haze.

I was walking this one with a friend, driving away from London’s early August heat. The traffic clogged as we neared Shellness, squeezing past the crowded holiday parks, amusement arcades and funfair at Leysdown-on-Sea, before reaching the sea wall.

A shallow sea with rippling waves laps against an empty beach, below a blue sky
Escaping summer crowds at Shellness Beach

There is plenty of free parking along the road here, although on a hot day much of this can be taken up by motorhomes, which park nose-to-tail as they settle in for a day or more.

After grabbing a parking space towards the end of the line, we hit the uncrowded beach. A narrow strip of sand and shells leads to silty shallows, divided by low wooden groynes. We headed south, bare-footed in the warm water.

Wooden shacks overlooking Shellness Beach
Wooden shacks overlooking Shellness Beach

A short stand of salt-blasted, wooden huts watch over the beach. Beyond, the sands became slightly busier, and the nut-brown bodies of well-seasoned naturists start to outnumber clothed visitors. This stretch seems family-friendly, with only one peacocking male, propped up on one elbow, an Adonis posing for an uncaring audience.

Shellness Estate

At the end of the beach, Shellness Estate overlooks the foreshore. This small, gated community huddles behind fences and prolific warning signs. Even the beach groynes are liberally covered with ‘keep out’ warnings. Fortunately, the beach below the high tide mark is legally accessible, so we hopped over the final groyne and kept walking.

Beyond Shellness Estate, a busy flock of turnstones were worrying the tidal edge, hoovering up unwary insects and small crustaceans. Beyond, a Second World War observation post watches over the mouth of the Swale, the channel which flows to the south of Sheppey, separating the island from the mainland.

A squarish, fortified concrete observation post, with a small window. On top, a low, square concrete turret sticks up. The post is set amid sand and shells and wild grasses, at the end of Shellness Beach
This Second World War observation post still watches over the estuary

The Shellness Operations Post

During the war, an officer and operator would watch over the entrance to the Swale from here, guarding against intrusion by enemy U-boats. An underwater line of electronic detection equipment spanned the Swale, altering the operator to the presence of any submarine or unknown craft. The operator could then detonate a second line of mines, also primed to detect any approaching submarine.

The bird painted on the side of this remote post is a hen harrier, sketched by the artist ATM in 2014. The work was created with permission, as a means of highlighting the dire plight of hen harriers, which have been persecuted until close to extinction in the UK.

At the time of painting, ATM explained how hen harriers “…migrate over Sheppey, it’s one of the places they go, and it was great to paint it there on the shoreline with all the wild birds around and hearing the calls – often it’s hard to find a spot that’s appropriate but this really was.”

Shellness Beach from inside the observation tower.
Close-up of the hen harrier artwork on the Shellness observation post, showing the striped head and bright yellow eye.
The hen harrier, one of our most persecuted birds of prey, captured by ATM

The Swale National Nature Reserve

Progress beyond here is usually off-limits, the beach and saltmarsh best left to the wildlife. This is vital territory for breeding birds during spring and summer, and an important feeding and roosting spot during winter.

Retracing our steps past Shellness Estate, we picked up a path heading south-east along the seawall, overlooking saltmarsh and the Swale. On the landward side, fields soon give way to the wetland mosaic of the Swale National Nature Reserve. In the summer heat the wetland birds were keeping low. Occasional reed bunting darted across the path, and a marsh harrier flew low and heavy along a distant channel.

Swale saltmarsh beyond Shellness Beach. This is the largest stretch of saltmarsh in the Swale Estuary and of vital importance for wildlife

A bird hide overlooks the reserve, something to aim for on a cooler day. Beyond this, where the seawall draws closer to the Swale, the path turns inland and follows a long line of tall, thin windbreak trees. The path meets a quiet lane which leads down to the beautiful St. Thomas Church, dating from around the 11th or 12th Century.

Just beyond the church, free range chickens roam and scratch within a large enclosure alongside farm buildings. Their eggs are on offer from a shaded table, next to an honesty box and a carton of hand sanitiser.

Boxes and cartons of brown eggs
Lovely fresh, free range eggs. Some home grown veg and tomato plants were also on sale. We stocked up on our return journey. Bring some coins if walking this way.

The Ferry House Inn

A shaded avenue leads to one last turn and the road culminates at The Ferry House inn. Beyond the pub, an old and crumbling hard leads gently down into the waters of the Swale. The ferries last ran here in 1953, but the pub thankfully remains. This was my first pub since lockdown and it didn’t disappoint, even if we were only seeking icy-cold, non-alcoholic pints.

Two stemmed, empty pint glasses on wooden pub table, with a low summer sun behind them, outside the Ferry Inn at Harty

Down at the water’s edge the sun was getting lower, its bright reflection glittering on the silvery water. A chevroned work van was parked up, a sheet spread across the windscreen to shield against the heat.

A drunk woman sagged heavily in a deckchair beside the side door, her skin reddened from the day’s sunshine. Her voice was raised against a soundtrack of seventies pop, loud and incoherent as she addressed others in the van.

A narrow hard, or gently sloping trackway, leads into the water. It is made from large, flat blocks of stone.
Site of the old Harty Ferry, which had been crossing here from at least 1774, until closure in 1953
Sunset over the Swale, as seen from the old Harty Ferry
Sunset over the Swale, as seen from the old Harty Ferry

We took a shortcut bridleway back towards the farm, through a gorgeous waist-high field of wildflowers. The plants had largely gone to seed, their branching shoots stiff and dry and adorned with curious seed pods. The earth underfoot was dry and deeply cracked from long weeks of summer heat, dark fractures running along the path.

Tangled wildflowers and grasses on Harty

Where the bridleway nears the farmyard, it squeezes between several entangled damson trees. These were bearing a harvest of small, almost-ripe fruit, which I initially mistook for sloes. I scoffed a stony handful, a quick energy snack for the return walk.

Damsons hanging from leafy branches, like small, purple plums
Free fruit. It's unlikely anyone harvests this damson crop, but we only sampled a few

Harty Marshes

We retraced our steps but continued along the lane to Elliotts Farm, seeking a shorter inland route back to Shellness. Just beyond the farm, a bridleway heads east across Harty Marshes. This is a well-surfaced route, wide enough for vehicles. The low-lying land on either side is largely agricultural, holding less interest than the coastal route.

With the sun now dipping below the horizon we found it hard to get our bearings, unsure of where we’d left the car, somewhere along the distant seawall. The bridleway eventually leaves the fields and skirts the edge of a small holiday park at Muswell Manor, located on Shellness Road, the road on which we’d parked.

A pinky, orange sky still glowing after sunset. The flat landscape is dark, with glimpses of water, a path and reeds
Darkness falling across the Harty Marshes

With two directions to choose from in the darkness, we made the right choice. After walking along the road and then the seawall for fifteen minutes, we spotted the dim lights of camper vans, pulled up alongside the roadway.

Quiet voices drifted from small groups of campers as we walked past in the dark, returning to my car. We headed home, enjoying the balmy night air, slipping across the inky Sheppey landscape and back to London.

Public transport to Shellness

Shellness is served by buses out of Sittingbourne (334 and 360) and by the 360 running from Sheerness. Journey length varies between one and one-and-a-half hours.

More information

The WW2 operations post at Shellness – http://indicatorloops.com/shellness.htm

ATM Street Art – http://atmstreetart.com/

More remote walks on the Isle of Sheppey – https://www.remotelondon.com/?s=sheppey

On a sultry summer's day the birds were lying low, but colourful butterflies were on the wing. This beautifully patterned small tortoiseshell is feeding on buddleia at Harty.

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]]> 1267 Elmley Cement Works and a lost village on the Isle of Sheppey https://www.remotelondon.com/elmley-cement-works-and-lost-village/ Tue, 04 Aug 2020 17:24:13 +0000 https://www.remotelondon.com/?p=1206 Elmley Island is nestled within the belly of the Isle of Sheppey, an island within an isle. Although no longer a…

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Elmley Island is nestled within the belly of the Isle of Sheppey, an island within an isle. Although no longer a true island, Elmley is still a remote and wild spot. Elmley Nature Reserve is well worth a visit, but I was drawn to the remote riverside path. An abandoned wharf was my target, rather than the inland grazing marshes.

I parked my car at the end of Ferry Road, a heavily rutted lane which leads to the old Kingsferry crossing. Now home to landfill and dumping, this was once the principle way on and off the island. A ferry ran here until 1860, when the first bridge was built to the mainland.

A metal gate blocks a dusty road on Elmley Island
Ferry Road leads to this welcoming sight at Kingsferry. There is a public right of way here.

Two bridges now span the channel, a lifting bridge dating from 1959 and the much higher, sweeping Sheppey Crossing, which opened in 2006. The end of the road is gated, but there is public access and you can walk around the gate.

An old sign warns of soft mud on Elmley Island
The path is good, but this is a wet landscape

Following the Swale

A public footpath heads east, following the river wall and the flow of the Swale. Inland, sturdy beef cattle browse the wet grazing marshes, dwarfed below huge pylons. Scraps of saltmarsh and wide mudflats lead down to the Swale, the tideway which separates Sheppey from the mainland.

Cattle grazing on Elmley Island

Pockets of heavy industry line the mainland side. The sound of birdsong is occasionally interrupted by the roar of jet skis, blithely ignoring the eight knots speed limit.

The path cuts around the mouth of the Dray. This channel was once tidal, flowing around Elmley to meet with Windmill Creek, creating a true island.

A muddy creek leads to the Swale, with industry beyond
The former mouth of The Dray. This channel once curved around Elmley Island, meeting Windmill Creek to create a true island

Overhead, an intolerant gull was noisily harassing a larger marsh harrier. The harrier drifted higher over the island, before lazily swooping away towards the mainland.  

A white gull annoying a larger, darker marsh harrier high in the sky, on Elmley Island
Birds of prey, such as this marsh harrier, are often pestered by other birds, who want them off their territory

Elmley Cement Works

The track curves past remnant saltmarsh and comes to the ruins of an old wharf. This was the Elmley Cement Works, also known at the Turkey Cement Works. Little still stands, but for almost fifty years this crumbling wharf supported a small industrial village and a riverside pub called The Globe, with a nearby church and school.

The old wharf at Elmley Cement Works. One side is broken concrete, the other wooden. The dock is full of mud.
The old wharf at Elmley Cement Works. The modern building in the distance is a biomass power plant

Elmley Cement Works operated between 1854 and 1901, apparently starting at a site a short distance to the south, before settling here. The cement was produced using local clay, dug from the surrounding saltmarsh and mudflats. This stretch of the Swale is marked on maps as Clay Reach, an echo of the area’s history. The other vital ingredient, chalk, was shipped in from other Medway wharves.

A short-lived brickworks also operated here, prior to the cement works. Again, the main ingredient would have been the local clay.

Ruins of the Elmley Cement Works
Ruins of the Elmley Cement Works
A large standing wall and pit at Elmley Cement Works
A large standing wall and pit at Elmley Cement Works

The wharf and foundations have been heavily warrened by rabbits, but larger tunnels exist. These are probably ventilation flues, providing an updraft of air to the twelve cement kilns which operated here. The flues extend a long way out into the landscape, mostly hidden below the grass. 

A low brick arched tunnel heads into darkness
Probable ventilation flue at the Elmley Cement Works
Inside the arched flue, with rubble extending into darkness
The flue would have drawn air for the fires in the cement kilns

Ghosts of Elmley Village

There is no obvious sign of the lost Elmley Village, although intriguing foundations dot the surrounding landscape. More than 200 people once lived here, in 30 homes. Glimpses of their lives and deaths are recorded in old newspaper clippings and census information, but today, it is hard to imagine a community living in this remote spot.

A small, battered tree grows from between concrete blocks, in an empty landscape, on Elmley Island
Little evidence of the cement works and Elmley Village remain
Black and white photograph of homely looking cottages, with the Swale in the background. On Elmley Island.
An undated photograph of Seaview Cottages close to the cement works. No trace now remains.

Elmley Village School and St James’s Church

Walking inland towards the ruins of Elmley Village School, I was stopped in my tracks by half-a-dozen yellow wagtails, gracefully chasing insects across the dusty path. They are astonishingly yellow, a bird I’ve never seen before. They are only here for the summer, shining brightly, before overwintering in Africa. Nearby, small groups of cautious linnets were flying low, the males displaying blushes of crimson across their chests. 

The village school is about half a kilometre inland, and are can be seen from the public footpath. The dangerously dilapidated structure is fenced off. The school was built in 1885, after rising class numbers at the nearby church made lessons there impractical. Fifty children once attended classes here, walking this same track.

The ruined Elmley Village School, with a tall chimney, amid a few trees and wildflowers
The derelict Elmley Village School lies just off the track

The church which stood next to the school has completely gone, wiped from the landscape. Incredibly, a church had stood here from roughly 1247, surviving rebuilds, centuries of disuse and fluctuating congregations.

The demise of the cement works proved the final nail in the coffin, and the church had become derelict by the 1950s, used as a cattle barn and for general farm storage. Some of the structure may have been taken to rebuild the river wall, following the infamous North Sea floods of 1953. The final ruins of St James’s Church were demolished in the early 1960s.

Trees grow where Elmley Church once stood
St James's Church stood to the left of the school in this photograph, closer to the river. Nothing visible remains
Sepia photograph showing Elmley Church
Undated photograph showing St James's Church beyond the school building.

Of the 160 burials recorded at the church since 1834, not even a headstone remains. Local resident Derek Faulkner has written extensively about Elmley, and his account of this lost church is worth reading.

Kestrels and hares

Heading back, two kestrel caught my eye, poised on fence posts and overlooking a recently harvested field. Every now and then, one would flick down to the stubble, swooping on small prey. In another field, a long-limbed hare, exposed amid the stubble, took flight towards the horizon.

In the far distance, the Kemsley waste-to-energy facility sits boldly on the horizon, a modern addition to an ancient landscape. 

A large, distant, futuristic-looking, blocky building, with several high chimneys
The Kemsley waste-to-energy facility on the mainland side of the Swale, beyond the remains of the cement works and village

Curious to see the earlier site of the cement works, I followed the shoreline a little way south. I suspect all trace may have been lost to later river wall enforcement, but there are some significant chunks of concrete and brickwork here. Wind-battered, twisting crack willow grows amid the remains.

Crack willow grows alongside a few massive concrete blocks, next to the Swale, on Elmley Island
Crack willow grows alongside a few massive concrete blocks, next to the Swale

Walking back to Kingsferry, small flocks of starlings took to the sky, twisting in formation. The moon rose pale in the east, beyond the pylons. A short walk, but a good one.

The moon rising over Elmley Island, with two huge pylons to the right of the landscape. The sky is pink.
The moon rising over Elmley Island

Public transport

This walk is best accessed by buses, which stop on Sheppey Way, close to the junction with Ferry Road. Walking along Ferry Road to Kingsferry takes about 20 minutes.

Alternatively, trains stop at Swale, and you can walk over the Lift Bridge. A footpath on the left of the road leads down towards the riverbank. However, it is only possible to walk under the Lift Bridge at low tide levels, and the alternative detour inland to Ferry Road is a long one on foot.

Useful information

Derek Faulkner’s local blog:  http://lettersfromsheppey.blogspot.com/2011/08/another-side-of-elmley.html

The Globe pub and Elmley Village http://www.dover-kent.com/2015-project/Globe-Inn-Elmley.html

Elmley Cement Works https://www.cementkilns.co.uk/cement_kiln_elmley.html

Other walks on the Isle of Sheppey https://www.remotelondon.com/?s=sheppey

More pics

Not far from the cement works, this broken wind pump rises above ruined brickwork on Elmley Island
Not far from the cement works, this broken wind pump rises above ruined brickwork.
The wharf’s mud-choked dock contains the skeletal remains of a wooden barge
The wharf’s mud-choked dock contains the skeletal remains of a wooden barge
Parallel grooves in broken concrete, with wildflowers growing in cracks
Grooves show where a travelling crane once moved alongside the dock.
There isn't much standing brickwork at Elmley Cement Works

Maps of Elmley Island

Old map, showing Elmley Island as green.
Bartholomew’s 1904 map shows Elmley Island as a true island. The Inn is marked and a cross marks the location of the church. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland
An 1865 map of Elmley Island
An 1865 map of Elmley shows the cement works, former cement works and church. The school has yet to be built. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland

Position of Elmley Cement Works

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