I have wanted to experience The Broomway for a long time, since reading about it in Robert Macfarlane’s The Old Ways and passing close by when I walked from Wallasea to Southend-on-Sea as part of my England Coast Path journey. The tides were wrong, and a guide is recommended. So I booked an afternoon with The Thames Estuary Man (aka Kevin) in October.
A look at a map will tell you how large Maplin Sands are, when the tide is fully out. This was once considered a location for London’s third airport, but it remains a dominant feature of The Thames Estuary, and is still used today as a firing range. It is often compared to Morecambe Bay, for the extent of the tidal zone and its danger. This is a landscape where you cannot outrun an incoming tide, and many have lost their lives by not judging their journey.
The sands reach out from Foulness Island, which connected to the mainland by a military road. Before this, the farmland was reached via The Broomway, a lowtide route of hard sands running parallel to the sea wall. It was reached via wattling board and gravel causeways (to cross the muddy bits) from the sea walls which gave access and egress to a 6 mile natural ‘road’. This was marked by broom like markers, all of which have disappeared.
Walking on to the sands, the view of a immense skyscape dominates as it is reflected in the water that remains in the channels and the surface, still seeking the sea as it flows east. It is very exposed and there is no shelter from a strong westerly wind that cuts a good measure from the tempreture. It is cold, but the wind blows us along the path to the first marker – the maypole, distinctive with its reflective discs and crossed battens. The group then progresses to one of the causeways at Asplins Head and heads back to the seawall for a snack. Exiting the sands at other points is dangerous, as the remnants of older rivers retain deep mud that could entrap you. This is where Kevin’s knowledge comes in hand, also his ability to call a coastguard with a VHF radio and mobile. If mist came in you would be disoriented and might end up walking into the sea on a rising tide.
Be prepared to get wet feet, as you have to cross shallow channels and puddles, stiched together with seagrass, which the Brent Geese have flown in for from Siberia. It is a joy to see these winter birds, the gurgling sound they make will be a feature of the estuary for a few months. The walk came across two unexploded shells, which everyone seemed casual about, but they are the real deal and shouldn’t be touched.
We return via an odd wreck, marked by a post, which is almost a mile from the shoreline. We are asked what we think it might be? A WW1 or WW2 wreck, or a fishing or cargo vessel. It turns out to be the remains of a 21st birthday party from 1982, when a pleasure launch sprung a leak, as it headed unwisely into a storm. Everyone was rescued, but the Pisces sits in the sands convered in barnacles, and provides a reminder of the dangers of these sands. Shallow water and rising tides in a storm are frightening places. Not least in 1953, during the famous floods, when the whole of Foulness submerged storm surge.
I recorded a surprising 7-miles at the end of the walk, and enjoyed the afternoon. It is worth visiting the islands heritage centre, for there is a great deal of heritage and history to be learnt in one of the most unusual and least visited areas of the east coast.
See www.thamesestuaryman.co.uk for more information.
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