The Handbook to the Rivers and Broads of Norfolk & Suffolk Part 6

CHAPTER XI.

HORSEY MERE AND SOMERTON BROAD.

[Picture: Decorative drop capital] It was exhilarating work sailing over Hickling Broad, and we were very loth to leave its wind-swept waters. We had a rare run back along the channel, and over Whiteslea, and then turned sharp to the left, up the Old Meadow d.y.k.e leading to Horsey Mere.

This d.y.k.e is a mile long, and of fair depth, but so narrow that people fishing on the banks had to hold up their rods as we pa.s.sed, while our sail swept the tops of the reeds. Then we shot into Horsey Mere, a lake of 130 acres in extent, with a small island in the middle. It was very clear, and very shallow, the channel for wherries lying along the west side of it, into Palling d.y.k.e, which leads north-westward for several miles until it reaches almost to the sea.

The white sand-hills on the coast were plainly visible, and the thunder of the surf was audible, as the sea was but a mile and a half away. We did what nearly every one else does who visits Horsey in a yacht; landed at the east end of it, and walked to the coast, but it was too rough to bathe. These sand-hills form a very curious barrier between the salt and fresh water. They are steep and high, and make one wonder by what force of wind and waves they attained their present shape and dimensions, in so flat a country, and why the like forces do not dissipate them over the plain. Breaches have been made in them by the sea, from time to time, notably in the winter of 1791, when a very high tide made several gaps, and threatened to overwhelm the marshes inland.

"I like this Mere as well as any of the Broads," said Wynne, when we returned to the yacht. "It is so very still and lonely, and its quiet is in such contrast to the roar and unrest of the sea close by. Is the fishing free here?"

"No, it is supposed to be preserved, though I don't suppose anyone will object to our catching a pike for supper, if you wish. There are no pike like those in Horsey, the proverb says."

But the wind had fallen as suddenly as it arose, and the glamour of a fiery sunset shone over the silent mere. An occasional cry of coot, or duck, or splash of fish, and the distant sound of the sea, but emphasized the stillness around us. We sat on the cabin roof, and talked lazily, as the dusk came slowly on, and our voices were low, in unison with the evening hush.

"I do not wonder," said Wynne, "that you are so fond of these waters. An evening like this, in such watery solitude, makes a strong impression upon one."

Horsey Mere is only accessible by water. There is a railway station-Martham-about four miles off, but if you walked from there you could get no sight of the Broad without a boat, and boats are not procurable.

"What are these cushions stuffed with?" asked Wynne, as we lay down for the night.

"Horse-hair, I expect; but then age has made them hard and crabbed."

"Well, I think that the sleeping accommodation might be vastly improved in your Norfolk boats generally. Canvas cots or hammocks, air beds and pillows, would all be better than the thin cushions there are in the cutter. I sha'n't sleep to-night, for I have pins and needles all over me already."

And in five minutes he was snoring! One could sleep on a deal plank, or even on an oak one, after a few days and nights on the Broads.

We woke very early in the morning, and found that a brisk breeze had sprung up, and that the lateener had dragged her moorings and drifted into the reeds. She had taken no harm, for, short of being run down by a wherry, there are no dangers of shipwreck on the Broads, and you might drift about unmoored, for all the hurt there is likely to accrue.

[Picture: Sound Asleep]

After a hurried breakfast we hoisted the foresail, and tore down the d.y.k.e into Heigham Sounds, across which we sped fast, throwing the shallow water into waves, which shook the reeds mightily. When we emerged from Kendal d.y.k.e into the main stream, we turned to the left, and in less than a mile reached Martham Ferry, which was stretched across the river while some wagons were pa.s.sing across. This ferry is a large raft, which is kept in a recess on either side of the river, and floated across, reaching from bank to bank when required. There is no one to tend it, and if it happens to be on the other side, a wayfarer must wait until some one appears on the other side to get it across. It is a wonderfully clumsy thing to look at, and is not regarded with friendly eyes by the wherrymen, who run their wherries full tilt against it too often at night, or when, with the wind astern, they are unable to stop. One wherryman, exasperated beyond endurance, let his wherry go at it with all her force when running before half a gale, but only smashed the bows of his vessel, not moving the ferry a bit or injuring it, for it is heavily bound with iron to withstand such experiments.

We sailed to and fro until the wagons had pa.s.sed, but a wherry coming up had to lower her sail in a hurry, and then struck the raft with great force before it could be drawn away. This jammed it diagonally across the river, and it was half an hour before it could be moved.

At the other side of the ferry, and at the mouth of a d.y.k.e, is a capital place for pike and large eels, and I can conceive of no better-looking pike place than the mile of stream between here and Somerton or Martham Broad. The water is deep and clear, with a stratum of lily leaves, about four feet below the surface, and here and there lilies on the surface.

As we sailed over its gla.s.sy surface, not ruffled by the crossing wind, on account of the high reeds and gra.s.ses, we could see thousands of fish of all sizes darting away beneath us; and at the end of the main d.y.k.e, where it divides into two, is a deep, clear pool, with a hard, gravelly bottom, where there are any quant.i.ty of perch and large roach. It is the beau-ideal of a spot for bottom-fishing, but "fine and far off" must you fish, for the water, though deep, is pa.s.sing clear. It is easily accessible from Martham railway station, and preferably from Potter Heigham, where, too, you could procure a boat.

The right-hand d.y.k.e leads to Somerton Broad, another reed-surrounded lake, possessing no particular merit. From Martham ferry we walked up a steep road to the village, lying around a broad green, and had we time we would have ascended the tower of the church, which is a conspicuous object for miles, and from which a splendid view of sea and lake is attainable.

In the church we noted a tablet to one Burraway, whose history is told there, but is too unpleasant to be more than referred to here.

After being so long on board a small vessel, one's legs become cramped and unfit for walking, and the walk to Martham and back, only a couple of miles, quite tired us, and we were glad to get back to our little craft.

In half an hour's time we were pa.s.sing under Heigham Bridge, and watching our man playing a seven-pound pike in the pool below. On the bank, by the cutter, he had arranged for our inspection a score of bream, from one pound to three pounds in weight, which he and another had caught early that morning and the night before.

Before turning our faces again towards Yarmouth, it may be mentioned that yachts may safely be moored to the bank anywhere above Acle, care being taken to avoid the obviously shallow parts.

In many places you will notice the eel-sets, which are fixed nets across the river for the purpose of intercepting the silver-bellied eels on their migration to the sea. These nets are only set at night, and there is a man in charge (sheltered in a rough sort of house-boat or hut), to lower the nets when craft are pa.s.sing, so that they do not obstruct the navigation. Immense quant.i.ties of eels are caught in these nets, and it has been proved by an inquiry conducted by the Yare Preservation Society, that other fishes are not caught therein, and that the sport of the anglers is in no wise interfered with.

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CHAPTER XII.

BACK TO YARMOUTH.

[Picture: Decorative drop capital] It was two o'clock when we hoisted a reefed sail on the cutter, leaving the lateener in charge of the owner, who had joined us, and it was three o'clock when we reached Acle bridge, having done the seven miles in the hour, wind and tide with us. We left Acle at four, being much delayed in lowering and raising the mast, and reached Yarmouth (12 miles) by half-past five; so we made a pretty quick pa.s.sage. We laid by the "Ale Stores" for the night, and were very careful to have the yacht strongly moored, for the tide runs fast. We were interested in the way the wherries dropped down out of the North River, with lowered masts, and a chain or weight out over the bows, so as to r.e.t.a.r.d their speed, as they drifted stern first, steering, of course, by the pressure of the faster-flowing tide against the rudder. We had intended to drop down in a similar way, through the swing bridge just below us, and to go, by sea, to Lowestoft, a distance of only eight miles; but as the wind kept getting up, and Breydon was white with foam, we put off making up our minds until the morning, for the disproportionate bowsprits and open wells of the river yachts are not very suitable for sea work.

Of course, we strolled upon the pier, and then returned to the quay-side by moonlight. We found that it was dead low water, and that the yacht had receded so much below the level of the quay, that no plank within reach would touch her. The man was in the forepeak fast asleep, and it was a long time before we could wake him, and then we jumped on to some wherries lying near, and he brought the jolly to us.

[Picture: Perch] We woke at times during the night, and felt the boat swaying, and heard the wind howling in the rigging to a very pretty tune.

In the morning there was no abatement, and although it was off the land, we shirked the wetting we should get at sea, and decided to go over Breydon, and up the Waveney. As the tide would not make until the middle of the morning, we took the jolly and rowed down to the harbour mouth at Gorleston. It is interesting to note how, for three miles, the river flows parallel with the sea, and, on the average, under half a mile from it, the dividing land being nothing more substantial than shingle and sand. Deeply interesting is it, also, to read of the early struggles of the inhabitants of Yarmouth to maintain a navigable waterway. Sometimes the river would open a new outlet for itself, and sometimes they made a new one for it; and, time after time, the river mouth got silted up with the wearing away of this soft eastern sh.o.r.e. Even now there is often insufficient water at the bar for deeply-laden vessels of ordinary size, and the entrance is particularly unsafe for sailing vessels to enter una.s.sisted at certain times. Picturesque sights abound on the river, and the quays. Fishing smacks taking their brown nets on board from carts ranged alongside; boats of every form and size hauled up on the beach; vessels building; and vessels in dry docks, undergoing repairs; a regular covey of smacks, in tow of a powerful steam tug, and hundreds of similar sights of deep interest to a man bitten with the joint love of the water and the picturesque.

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CHAPTER XIII.

YARMOUTH TO SOMERLEYTON.

[Picture: Decorative drop capital] On reaching the yacht, after rowing back with the first of the flow, we started with two reefs down to beat over Breydon, on which the wind against the tide raised a respectable sea. There was a great deal of weight in the wind, for it was veering towards the south-west, having been north-west all night, and a strong south-west wind is generally full of puffs and squalls. Many times we had the water over the coamings of the well, and the lee plankways were always awash.

"This is something like fun!" gasped Wynne, as he eased off the jib sheet to a squall, and the salt foam dashed in his face; "but there won't be much skin left on my hands by the time we get to the top of Breydon.

These enormous jibs are horrible things to have to work. If the yachts had finer bows, they would not want nearly so much head-sail, and would go as fast, if not faster."

This was heresy to our man, who had seen no other rig for river boats all his life, and he and Wynne had a heated argument on the matter, without either being much the wiser.

On reaching the top of Breydon, we turned to the left, up the Waveney, for half a mile, as far as Burgh Castle, pa.s.sing over the dreaded Burgh flats, where a wherry and a yacht were both hard aground, waiting for the tide to float them off. The deep water channel is not near the line of posts as one would imagine, but close along the west sh.o.r.e. We touched two or three times, but did not stick, and at last moored alongside a wherry, and landed to inspect the ruins on the top of the hill. No one pa.s.sing along these waters should miss the ruins of Burgh Castle, a Roman station of great interest.

There is a very extensive stretch of ma.s.sive wall, with towers at intervals, and at the corners; and we spent a considerable time in making sketches of the ruins, and admiring the extensive view.

We could, if we chose, continue on up the Waveney, but the next five miles of river are narrow, uninteresting, and with a heavy run of tide, while at the end is a fixed bridge-St. Olave's, where the mast would have to be lowered. So we turned back into the Yare, and sailed up to the mouth of the new cut at Reedham. This is a ship ca.n.a.l, about three miles long, connecting the Yare with the Waveney. The tide flows and ebbs from the Reedham end of it. It is perfectly straight, and if the wind should be straight up or down it, there is nothing for it but to tow. Now, however, we had a beam wind, and tore along merrily enough. But trouble was in store for us. The ca.n.a.l is wide enough, but it is not kept "didled" out ("didling," or "dydling," being a Norfolk term for dredging, with scoops at the end of poles, and lifting the mud on to the banks), and the sides are very shallow. In the distance, we saw a large _billy-boy_, or topsail smack, from the Thames, and as we approached, it became only too plain from the rake of her mast, that she was aground in the very middle of the channel. We got the mainsail down directly, and ran along under the jib, and then, as we expected, ran aground alongside of her. A wherry coming behind lowered her sail, and stopped in time.

The smack was laden with rice for Messrs. Colmans' Works, and her skipper, instead of going round by Yarmouth, had tried the short cut by Lowestoft. After much shoving and towing we got past, and left the smack patiently waiting the rise of the tide, or the arrival of a tug.

[Since the foregoing was written, the Cut has been much improved in depth by dredging, and piling the banks.]

There is very good fishing to be had in the cut, and the banks are sound and dry, which is a rare thing on these rivers. There is a lift-bridge at Haddiscoe railway station, near the end of the cut, which takes some time to get opened; this is a great inconvenience, and even a serious matter when you are sailing fast, as there is not room to come about.

They also sometimes fail to open the bridge wide enough, and some time since a large yacht had her mainsail torn as she pa.s.sed through, by its catching on the corner of the uplifted bridge. A toll of 1s. for each yacht is taken, and a man holds out a bag on the end of a pole to receive it. The toll for wherries depends in amount upon whether they have the bridge opened for them or go through with mast lowered, and at night a chain used to be put across to prevent them stealing through un.o.bserved, but the chain was frequently "charged" at full speed, and broken.

In a quarter of a mile we emerged into the Waveney, and, looking back, we could see St. Olave's bridge, a rather handsome structure. There are a few houses grouped rather prettily, and a good inn, the "Bell," close by the Bridge, a quarter of a mile from Haddiscoe station, and about a mile from Fritton Decoy, a favourite lake for fishing, which we shall afterwards mention.

[Picture: Somerleyton Hall]

We then pa.s.sed through a railway swing bridge, where the East Suffolk Railway pa.s.ses over, and sailed without further incident some two miles further to another swing bridge at Somerleyton, where the Lowestoft line pa.s.ses over. This bridge is the worst on the rivers to pa.s.s when wind and tide are against you, as they so frequently are, and I am always glad to be well clear of its piles and projections, through which the tide swirls so swiftly.