With all the set backs we had encountered we had now run hours over schedule and it was almost dusk. Fortunately the river was now quite wide and we were making good progress. As we approached Nayland the river was easier to navigate and weed free as it passed by the back gardens and moorings of people’s houses. Obviously this stretch of river was used frequently by the people living in the surrounding villages.
We started to see more people and other canoeists. When asking them how far we were from our destination they said probably another two hours which deflated our already heavy spirits. We had to make our destination before dark so whilst moaning and blaming each other we paddled on as fast as we could manage.
We portaged at the next weir which was too dangerous to shoot and unfortunately Nick fell into the water when getting back in his kayak. Luckily he had a spare set of clothes with him but to his despair he managed to fall in a second time and so had to complete the rest of the journey soaking wet.
We paddled on and on expecting to see our final destination at every turn only to be dismayed by seeing yet another stretch of river up ahead. Our fears really began to start when the sun disappeared over the horizon and what was a beautiful river by day turned into a black foreboding path ahead, full of over hanging trees hiding all sorts of cobwebs and undesirable insect life.
The air was starting to fill with flying insects and not expecting to have been paddling in the dark none of us in our entire kayak accessories had thought to bring a torch. To make matters worse a mist was quickly descending on the river surface.
At this point we started to become quite concerned. Even though we were not exactly in the wilderness we were far enough away from help and were stuck in the river due to very high river banks. The only think we had to light our way was the torch beams from our mobile phones which of course made paddling at the same time virtually impossible.
Thankfully after what seemed like an age someone spotted up ahead a place where we could portage and as we drew near we could hear traffic from a nearby road. It was a disused weir and we had to drag the boats up a twelve foot wall to get to the road side.
Once on the road we quickly became aware that we had reached a place called Stratford St Mary which was only about a mile from our destination. Two of the group went on foot to pick up the cars whilst the others packed up the inflatable kayaks and all the kit.
Soon we were in the cars and on our way home. It felt like we had been on a gruelling jungle adventure and not a gentle paddle along a placid river. There were plenty of moans and groans but secretly we had all enjoyed this little adventure and had learnt an awful lot about kayaking down a river.
Our next challenge was how to pass through a gap of no more than three or four feet wide which was blocked by a contraption that had been left over from some fun river raft race. It was made worse by the fact it was stuck in the dreaded pea soup. It took several of us to drag and lift the raft out of the way and of course this added extra time to our journey.
For a while after the river ran very narrow and in places it was not even wide enough to paddle. On these occasions we had to pull our inflatable kayaks through the water by clutching the reeds on the either side.
Joel, who was paddling the Sterns Cordova inflatable kayak found the going a lot easier in the shallow water as his kayak does not sit as low in the water as the inflatable kayaks.
At some point Ryan’s inflatable kayak developed a small puncture to the port side tube. Luckily it was a slow puncture and he was able to use the hand pump to inflate without needing to stop.
By this time the sun was getting very low in the sky and we were all very tired and longed for the journeys end. It was not long before we were faced with yet another set back. A huge willow tree had fallen across the river completely blocking our path. It had probably blown down in the high winds we had the previous week.
We were all very disheartened by the site of the tree which was made worse by the fact the river banks were too high to portage at this point and we would have to travel a good mile or so back to the nearest portage point. It appeared an impossible passage for our inflatable kayaks to manage safely as the dry sharp branches of the willow tree would surely puncture the boats if any attempts to make to through were made.
As we pondered the situation we noticed some movement up ahead from the other side of the tree. A man paddling a single seat rigid kayak emerged through the branches. We exchanged pleasantries and found out he was a river warden who was checking the river prior to a yearly event that is held on the Stour called the
Sudbury to sea run, wherein approximately two thousand canoeists and kayakers paddle along the river from Sudbury to the sea over two days.
He remarked that there was no way we would make it passed the tree on our inflatable kayaks without puncturing them. We said our farewells and he disappeared up river. None of us were prepared to paddle back up the river so we decided to give it a go passing through the tree.
Joel was first and made it through to the other side relatively unscathed. Slowly but surely we all managed to pass through the willow without puncturing any of the boats which is a true test of how strong and durable inflatable kayaks are.
We soon came across the largest shootable weir on the Stour. The weir is located near a place called Wissington and has gullys either side with fast flowing water despite the low level of the river.
Nick was the first to go and once he had successfully reached the bottom we all followed. At first we were concerned about shooting weirs on inflatable kayaks which were laden with kit but they performed admirably and no one had any problems. We would have liked to have portaged and played at the weir but we were conscious the time due to the many delays and cars were was still some way off.
Paddling further down the river the scenery was much the same, passing quaint houses, churches and cottages, all very English countryside.
Our inflatable kayaks were now becoming quite heavy to paddle and were full of weed, mud and water. We were getting quite tired so we took the opportunity to stop and have a quick drink and bite to eat in a field. To get to the field we had to climb a six foot mud bank so we moored the inflatable kayaks at the bottom of the river bank. Nick decided to stop in his kayak as he did not have the energy to climb the bank. We sat in the field and watched a group of swans swimming down the river towards Nick. In case you didn’t know swans can be aggressive birds especially if they feel threatened and you are invading their territory.
As we watched them swim nearer they seemed to be forming a phalanx formation and we started shouting and waving to Nick that he was about to be attacked.
Not wanting to miss the sight of Nick being attacked by swans I started filming with my mobile phone from the edge of the bank. When the swans were about twenty feet away Nick raised his arms which caused the biggest swan to hiss at him. He immediately put his arms back down.
I started to edge down the bank filming as I did. As I was looking through the camera viewer I had a distorted perception of where I was treading and the next thing I felt my foot slip away from under me and my right shoulder, head and neck smashing hard against the dry mud of the bank.
My fellow paddlers rushed over to help me up as I was very dazed and for the first few seconds I thought I had broken or dislocated my shoulder. It took about forty five minutes before I felt I could paddle again. Gingerly I climbed back into my inflatable Kayak, nursing a swollen nose, lump on my head, stiff neck and painful shoulder. I felt like I had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson rather than a sedate paddle along a lazy river.
It was slow going for a while and we had already lost another hour. You would think that kayaking down the River Stour on a beautiful summer’s day would be a relaxing and tame affair. How wrong you would be.
Thankfully the next hour or so of paddling were relatively trouble free leaving time to consider and take in the
true beauty of the countryside along the Stour River.
It was vary rare that any flow in the river could be detected which meant we had to paddle every inch of the way. We successfully navigated a small weir and managed to paddle the shallow waters following it. The Stour really does have some spectacular and remote spots along its course. One minute the river is fifty feet wide and the next it is barely wide enough to paddle.
Soon we were in Bures which is a typically quaint English village complete with water mill. At this point there was talk about getting a taxi back to the cars which we had left at Dedham on the assumption that we would easily make it to Dedham by four or five o’clock. Joel, who was paddling a Sterns Cordova inflatable kayak, was suffering from quite a bit of back ache due to the kayak seat in the Cordova being low and unpadded.
After a rest and a drink at this stunning location we agreed to push on as were able to fashion a more comfortable kayak seat in the Colorado using one of the spare Sevylor rangers inflatable kayak seats. Fully refreshed we headed further down the winding river Stour.
Up ahead we could see some low hanging trees and as we drew closer we could see the dreaded pea soup weed covering the entire width of the river. Whilst the length of this latest patch of weed did not seem to stretch for more than thirty feet and the width of the river at this point was only about ten or fifteen feet wide, this latest patch of weed did have a dead ram hanging from a tree inches above the water line.
This poor creature had obviously slipped down the bank and in its attempts to make it across to the other side had become entangled in the tree.
Bumping our inflatable kayaks across the weed it was quite disgusting as we paddled uncomfortably close to the bloated and fly blown animal. This was the sort of thing that when you are planning your leisurely paddle you don’t take into account and you will you never find this on any map
The river Stour continues to twist along at a very sedate pace through various idealic locations with the river hardly seeming to be flowing at all.
The weirs every few miles break up the journey but unfortunately in view of the time of year and the recent dry spell many of them were unable to be shot in our inflatable kayaks.
Shortly after midday we stopped for a late lunch by a public house called the Swan in a place called Nayland which is yet another idyllic sleepy village. Here the river runs straight through the village. After lunch we set off again and due to the dry river in places we had to drag our inflatable kayaks for about a mile or so.
We quickly found that the easiest way to get back into an inflatable kayak whilst in the river was to jump into it at the same time as pushing it forward much the same way as a bobsleigh rider would.
When I considered the water was deep enough to paddle I pushed the kayak forward and jumped into it only to find that the water was not deep enough causing the inflatable kayak to stop dead in its tracks making me fall forward onto the bow where all my kayak accessories were packed.
Unfortunately I fell face first onto my metal flask causing the bridge of my nose to split open. If the water had been deep enough I could have fallen in and would have been in real difficulty as I was a bit dazed and confused on top of my nose bleeding quite heavily. To say our paddle along the river Stour was a leisurely one is far from the truth as we seemed to be faced with one issue after another.
The other guys waited while my nose stopped bleeding and for me to get my breath back. Feeling sorry for myself I got back into my inflatable kayak and headed on down the river.
After a less than glamorous start we found the next hour or so a wonderful experience. It was a beautiful day and the Stour is a tranquil slow moving river deep in the English countryside. The vistas are magnificent as you make your way through the famous painter Constable's countryside. The Stour River twists and turns and meanders to its final destination at the port of Harwich one of the biggest ports in Europe.
One of the major problems paddling a river after there has been a long hot dry spell is the build up of weed and algae. This river weed is not dissimilar to pea soup and smells a whole lot worse! Upon rounding a bend in the river we were faced with a huge patch of ‘pea soup’ that spanned across the entire width of the river.
Nick, one of the paddlers in the group was not as athletic as the rest of us, and as a result was lagging some way behind. Whilst waiting for him to catch up we let the kayaks drift up to the ‘pea soup‘ using it as an anchor. We took the opportunity to have a quick sandwich and a drink.
Not wanting to hold us up, Nick decided not to stop and to push on through the weed in order to make up some ground as the rest of us looked on.
The further he paddled into the duck weed the harder it became to paddle. The more he paddled the more the weed tangled up in his paddles and as he lifted the paddle to take a stroke the weed fell into his boat. We couldn’t help but laugh at his plight.
He eventually became stuck in the middle of the weed. Unable to paddle any further due to the thickness of it. However his predicament soon became ours when we made our attempts to get him out. Upon seeing how difficult it was to paddle through the weed we decided to portage up the steep grassy bank.
At this point we realised one of the most important kayak accessories to have in your kit bag is nettle spray! As we climbed up the river bank in our shorts we all sustained many nettle stings which soon stopped us laughing.
Another important item in your kayak accessories should be a decent rope. Luckily I had brought a rope with me but unfortunately it was not a good quality one. We threw the rope to our fellow stranded paddler who in turn tied it to the front of his inflatable kayak. As we tried to pull the boat the rope snapped and kept snapping every time it was retied.
At one point Matt slipped down the bank and fell waist deep into the stagnant weed. By this time Nick had worked out that he could edge forward by bumping along but it was a slow process and was extremely tiring.
It took nearly half an hour for him to eventually get to the other side of the pea soup and he was shattered by the time he had done so.
His inflatable kayak was full of weed and absolutely stank of rotting vegetation.
Kayaking along a river for me, ticks all the right boxes.
It is a great sport that everyone can do. You are in the great outdoors keeping healthy and fit. You can power paddle and have a great workout or take your time with leisurely paddles stopping as and when for a
cup of tea or a beer. For me there is nothing better.
The river Stour is a sedate river in Essex England and stretches for some forty six miles. This was the river for one of my first kayaking adventures which threw up some unexpected events.
On this particular paddle I was accompanied by four friends and we each had an inflatable kayak for the journey. Four of us had Sevylor Rangers and one had a Sterns Cordova
Due to a very hot summer the river was low and the rise had practically dried out so we started from a place called Henny Street which is about three miles further down river.
As this was one of my very first river runs and the first time I had ever paddled an inflatable kayak my friends and I had little experience and had not planned our journey as well as we might have.
As any experienced kayaker will tell you what is detailed in a map can look very different from what the river is actually like. It certainly does not provide information on river heights, conditions and the effects of the weather.
After spending a few minutes pumping up my inflatable kayak and loading up all of the kayak accessories, my friends and I were ready to go. It was early morning around 8am on a beautiful sunny Sunday. We began our journey near the Swan public house, much to the amusement of its patrons.
Within seconds of being afloat we were faced with our first dilemma. The river immediately forked into two separate paths, one blocked by an over hanging tree and the other by a weir.
One of my fellow paddlers decided to try and tackle the weir which was a daunting prospect especially as he had never shot a weir on an inflatable kayak before.
Needless to say he got stuck half way down due to the rubber skegs on the bottom of the inflatable kayak and the weir only having a few inches of water running over it. Luckily he was still high enough on the weir to get out and drag the kayak back up to the top much to the increasing amusement and ever growing crowed at the pub.
We then decided to take the route blocked by the tree which we did manage to negotiate but not before getting covered in leaves and pieces of bark. Thankfully all of the inflatable kayaks made it through this first obstacle without sustaining any punctures.
No sooner had we made it past the tree we came to a dead end and found ourselves in a small pond with nowhere else to go.
Confused about what to do next a local man appeared on the riverbank that seemed to be unhappy with regard to our presence in his garden pond. To our total embarrassment it now became clear to us that we were not in fact in the River Stour but in some ones back garden hence the reason the people at the pub found us so amusing.
Fortunately the pond owner quickly realised that we were hapless and inexperienced kayakers and pointed over to where the river was, a couple of hundred yards away.
Red faced and full of apologies we dragged our inflatable kayaks into the river proper and began our journey.
After crossing the endless mudflats at the top of Horsey Island just beyond the beach at the crest of the mud, lay an area of firm grassland. It was gone 11.00pm and we set about putting up the tents as best we could in the dark. Thankfully it was a clear night without any wind and it didn’t take long to get the tents pitched.
Amongst our kayak accessories we had a portable stove and the sound of the kettle boiling started to cheer us up. We used most of the water we had brought along trying to clean the mud off ourselves but we made sure we left enough to make hot drinks.
Sitting in the openings of our tents and sipping a hot drink we even started to crack some jokes about what we had gone through, thinking that things could not get any worse. How wrong we were. Looking at the ground more closely and upon examining what we had thought to be grass turned out to be a seaweed type of plant. It quickly dawned on us that in the confusion and haste to get our tents pitched we had made camp on a flood plain.
We could not believe it but at the same time we were not prepared to set up camp anywhere else as it would be pointless anyway having absolutely no idea what area would be safe from flooding.
We decided to take our chances with myself and one of the other guys agreeing to stay awake as long as
possible and until after high tide which would not be until 4:50am. I tied my inflatable kayak to the tent to stop it floating away if we accidentally fell asleep and didn’t notice the tide come in, and used the kayak seat for a pillow.
I sat under the stars with Nick while the other members of the group slept. We drank tea to keep awake. At 3:00am we checked the camp perimeter. To the south and about 200 yards from the tents we could see the water flooding the plain. We couldn’t be sure from where it was coming from but most probably an inlet or creek.
We carried on checking every half an hour and at 4:30am the water was within fifty yards of the camp. We hoped it would not come any closer and upon checking again at 5:15am thankfully it was no nearer. I went back to my tent and collapsed.
I woke from my short sleep at around 7:30am. It was a glorious morning and the water had not reached our tents. My neck ached from sleeping on an inflatable kayak seat but I didn’t really notice because just about every other part of my body ached profusely.
In the light of the day we could see the many cuts and grazes to our feet we had sustained getting through the mud but I was mainly concerned with a rather deep 4 inch gash on the bottom of my right foot. I hadn’t noticed it last night, perhaps because it was packed in cold mud but now it started to throb with pain.
We had planned to have a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs. This however was not possible as we were conscious we needed to get off Horsey Island before the tide went out again leaving us to deal with the mudflats once more.
Adding to our misery one of the group had lost his paddles when dragging his inflatable kayak through the mud. This meant we would either have to tow him or split one of the paddles in two and the rest of us take turns to paddle single bladed.
What should have been a relaxing paddle back to the marina took twice as long and involved a combination of towing and taking turns with single blades. Nobody really said much on the return journey, we simply wanted to get back home.
Once back at the marina we unpacked our kits and stowed the kayaks. Later that day I went to the hospital and for my troubles had a tetanus jab and six stitches in my right foot.
This was definitely an adventure but one I do not want to repeat in a hurry. My inflatable kayak stood up well to the test but that day I was glad to pack it back up in its bag for a while.
Read more on Kayaking Around Horsey Island Part V – Camping At Night…
Looking for a place to camp overnight on Horsey Island we were closing in on the rusty barges which are run aground in Hamford Water. Joel was up head and we could hear him cursing and as we reached him we could see why he was so upset. The sandy beach was there alright, but to get to it we would have to wade through five hundred yards or more of mud due to the tide now being completely out.
Before I knew it two of the guys from our group had already jumped out of their kayak seats and were knee deep in the mudflats and swearing liberally. I had not been that afraid for a long time and I remembered many stories of people being trapped in mud and stuck there until the tide came back in and they drowned.
I had a very bad feeling about the situation and knew the Walton backwaters were predominately marshland and mudflats. I tried to persuade the others that it was a bad idea and that we should call for help on our mobile phones. Before my appeal had even been considered everyone else had got out of their kayak seats and were taking their chances in the mud.
I was so tired and ached to get out of my inflatable kayak. A desperate need to just go for it took over me. I took a deep breath and leapt out of my kayak seat and sank immediately knee deep into cold, wet, martian like mud that surrounds Horsey Island. Within the first two steps I lost my trainers and was now wading barefoot. I was thankful only that it was so dark I could barely see where or what I was stepping on. What made progress through the mud infinitely worse was hauling my inflatable kayak weighed down with all my kit and paddles.
The two guys with the sit on top and the Perception kayak were moving marginally quicker due to these boats being significantly lighter. In the dark all I could hear was a royal amount of swearing as everyone tried to avoid falling over or plummeting too far into the foul-smelling mud.
It was impossible to take more than a few steps without collapsing on top of my inflatable kayak from exhaustion. I longed to just leave it there but I knew the tide would come back in soon and I would have no way of returning home. At one point I took a step forward and sank right up to my backside. At that split second I thought my luck had run out. I lunged backwards and grasped for my kayak. This scared me senseless as a few inches further and I would have been stuck and I doubt very much the others would have been able to pull me out.
I just wanted to be at home in my warm bed. Once I got my breath back I slowly and timidly stepped forward again. I could feel sharp pain in my feet and prayed it was just stones and shells I was stepping on and not broken parts of the rusting barges that we were passing uncomfortably close to.
I could just make out the shadow if Joel dragging the Perception kayak who was now a couple of hundred years up ahead. I shouted to him asking if he had made it to the beach yet and was dreadfully dismayed when he swore back that he hadn’t. I cursed my inflatable kayak that although filled with air still weighed a ton. This was by far one of the worst experience of my life and I could not understand how on earth an easy paddle around Horsey Island had ended up with this nightmare scenario.
Heads down and with gritted determination we finally made it to the beach. Covered in mud and entirely confused we looked in the dark for somewhere to pitch out tents. I could not believe that both Nicks and my inflatable kayak had survived the ordeal un-punctured which is a testament to their toughness and durability.
Read more on Kayaking Around Horsey Island Part IV – Walking On Mars…
Having paddled our kayaks two thirds around Horsey Island situated in the Walton-on-the-Naze backwaters we were confident we would soon find a suitable place to land.
We paddled down Hamford Water not knowing that we had in fact missed our turning to go around the island back at the fork after Stone Point. Despite paddling further and further we could not spot a single place to portage. As it was nearly 9.00pm and the sun had dropped behind the horizon Hamford Water took on an ominous feel.
We were starting to feel lost, tired and hungry. My inflatable kayak was unforgiving and the weight of my camping and kayak accessories made paddling even harder. I had a five litre water bottle stuffed behind my kayak seat, a foot pump, tent, sleeping bag, food and so on, all of which were making the inflatable kayak drag heavily against the tidal water.
The banks along Hamford Water seemed to be getting higher or maybe it was just our moods getting lower. Having planned to pitch a camp long before sunset and travel back the next day, nobody had thought to bring a torch. This added to our worries as we were in a channel used by other boats. Still we pushed on looking for any nook or cranny where we could pull ourselves out.
As it was now getting quite dark and we were starting to become desperate one of the group tried to get out and climb the mud banks. He instantly sank up to his knees in the mud and knew that it would be impossible to get out and pull the kayaks up the banks.
We had no other option but to keep paddling. The channel seemed to go on and on until we eventually rounded a corner to find to our horror that the channel come to a dead end. It was evident we had simply been following a large creek inland and were now around the Beaumont Cut area.
We were extremely tired, hungry and stranded in this creek with the only option to either call the coast guard or attempt to paddle back to the beach at Stone Point. Although exhausted nobody wanted to call the coast guard so we wearily began to head back in the dark to Stone Point with the feint hope we had missed an exit point along the way.
It was now gone 9.00pm and we had a three or four mile paddle back to Stone Point ahead of us. Not much was spoken on this stretch and the two of us paddling the inflatable kayaks started to lag behind. At 10.00pm and what felt like hours had passed we started to see the silhouettes of the rusty barges in the distance. This uplifted out spirits but as hard as we paddled they never seemed to get any nearer.
We remembered there was a beach behind were the barges were moored which would be closer than Stone Point. After what seemed like an age the barges were now just a few hundred yards from us. It was taking all my strength every time I lowered my paddles into the water and my inflatable kayak seemed heavier than ever.
Read more on Kayaking Around Horsey Island Part III – Dead End…
We started our kayak journey from The Twizzle which is where the lovely Titchmarsh Marina is situated.
Paddling along the Walton Channel in an inflatable kayak fully laden with camping equipment and kayak accessories is hard going in tidal water.
The sit on top kayak being paddled by Matt was easier to paddle as it quite happily bounced off the waves. Joel’s Perception kayak was the easiest by far to paddle in these waters.
Approximately one third of the way round Horsey Island is a head of land called Stone Point. It has a charming sandy beach and is situated right at the point where the Walton Channel meets the sea. After paddling the kayaks for about an hour we had reached Stone Point which was our first resting point. We stopped for a quick bite to eat and a drink. At Stone Point you can clearly see the port of Harwich and just across the channel four or five disused and rusting barges have been deliberately run aground in an effort to, one assumes, act as tide breakers and sea defences. We stretched our legs for five minutes and walked round the head of stone point to take in the sea views.
At this point we were making very good progress and although it was 7:00pm there was plenty of light left in the day. We agreed to keep paddling around the island until 8.00pm and then stop wherever we were at that time and make a camp.
I got back into my inflatable kayak and started to paddle off with the rest of the group.
As we rounded the top of the island and into Hamford Water we were conscious of the need to stay as close as possible to the shore line in order to avoid any river traffic entering and exiting the channel.
This meant we had to paddle our way through the derelict barges and as the tide was well on its way out I was concerned my inflatable kayak may sustain a puncture on a piece of broken off metal. Thankfully all the kayaks zig zagged through the boats and both the inflatable kayaks were unscathed.
We had been paddling for some time along the Hamford Water which runs along the top of the island when we came to a fork. We could not be absolutely sure if this was the left side of Horsey Island leading to Kirby Creek or just a large creek cutting into the centre.
Our original plan was to paddle clockwise around the island so we would not have had to make this decision coming out of the creek if it was in fact the left side of Horsey Island. Up ahead the channel appeared to bear to the left after about a mile or so, indicating this also could be the correct way.
We stopped and braced our paddles across our kayaks while a debate ensued as to whether or not to continue ahead or turn off at the creek in the hope it would eventually take us back to the harbour.
I could remember there being a large creek on the aerial map I had studied beforehand but to be honest I was unsure if this was it. The decision was made to carry on ahead. We continued to paddle and as the sun hung low in the sky and it was now 8.00pm we started to look for a suitable place to camp.
As the tide was almost out it exposed mud banks about eight to ten feet high on both sides of the channel. There was no sign of anywhere suitable to stop and camp for the night. We continued to paddle.
From the aerial photographs we had viewed before our journey it showed Horsey Island to have many sandy beaches however we soon realised these were in fact mudflats ending in high mud banks and not golden sand. It would be impossible to climb and get my inflatable kayak up.
Read more on Kayaking Around Horsey Island Part II – Stone Point…
