Sunday, 24 August 2008

My kind of creek

Forget the sterile, barren marinas with row after row of gleaming white moored boats that all look like training shoes, for this is the real pleasure of our English coastline. Small, dozy creeks that dry at low water slumbering in the August sun, rendolent with the heavy scents of rotting seaweed and glutinous mud, cozy and safe when the winter storms blow, a haven from the sea used for a thousand years.

5 comments:

Marukatsu said...

But I think boats get damages when no water in a creek. Am I right?

Raedwald said...

Lightweight plastic planing boats with stern drives and outdrives (the ones that look like trainers)don't take the ground too well but heavy displacement boats with the prop clear of the keel are happy as hippos in a hollow in creeks such as this.

The fast boats tend to zoom from marina to marina and miss out on what to me are the real delights of our coastline - pottering about and nosing into unexplored creeks, finding a decent pub, a mediaeval church and a place to linger.

Newmania said...

No clues as to where it is R ?

Raedwald said...

Queenborough Harbour, Mr N, on the Isle of Sheppey.

Anonymous said...

"...pottering about and nosing into unexplored creeks..."

Gunkholing is the very evocative American word.

A grand old English tradition.

When I were a youngster, the place was the Blackwater estuary.

Ahh...those were the days.