onionbagblog

To the canoes! …was the rally cry come Saturday morning as @AnnaJCowen and I decided to sea test the kayaks that make us feel like we are proper sailing types.

Ahem.

Having bought a couple of basic entry level models from a rather charming sailing shop just outside of Clactonia, a whole month has passed where they have been sitting in the dry dock that doubles up as a back garden.

Whoops.

Time and tide, ‘n all that, and bugger me - we’ve not exactly been blessed of late with a tidal pattern that can be easily accommodated into a weekday and weekend working pattern.

A detailed study of the tidal charts and a consultation of the shipping forecast the night before (I lie - high tide for Brightlingsea - there’s an app for that…) and we were scheduled to be sea bound shortly after 1pm on Saturday.

But first how to get the beasts down to the Quay? This has been occupying my mind a lot of late. It’s not quite on par with a Middle East peace proposal, but warfare of sorts broke out around the regions of Park Road on Saturday.

Apologies to m’neighbours - the girl and I got in a strop over straps. The Rolls Royce of kayak trolleys had been bought, but the small print overlooked attaching the kayaks to the rock ‘n roll wheels.

No worries. A trip to B & Q and some industrial strength ratchet ties were ours for the taking. But not for the tying. We bodged a solution of sorts, and then fell flat on our feet before we even hit the Colne Social Club.

Back to basics it was, and we resorted to the good old-fashioned backbreaking method of carrying the canoes by the handles down to the Sailing Club. The High Street was well off our radar - no one wants to see a feuding couple encased in tight black rubber with additional S & M cable straps wandering past the Deli on a Saturday lunchtime.

Anglesea Road was a pain, but the pleasure was all to come once we hit the water. Wivenhoe is surprisingly short on slipways - there’s either the old Sailing Club entry point by the Ferry launch, or out towards the barrier and the current Sailing Club location.

It was to our very good fortune that just as the champagne bottles were smashed against the hull (not as a symbolic gesture, but as something of a tonsil tickler before hitting the water) we encountered another canoeing couple.

Cripes.

Tips were exchanged, black bondage was mutually admired.

And then we were water bound.

Blimey.

I potted about in canoes as a youth, thinking that a bright red phallic fibreglass body would aid my sexual chances. I know how to control my wrist action, especially so when sitting in an unnatural position.

It was to my great joy then to relive this moment of frisson from my youth, making those first few strokes into the muddy water of the Colne and drifting dangerously close to the flood barrier.

I looked back at the girl and found that she hadn’t even managed to wriggle free of the slipway. I’ve always doubted her technique, to be honest.

It may be a beast to carry down to the Quay, but the kayak glides like an absolute beauty once you are in the water. Observing Wivenhoe from a low water level provides a stunning new perspective.

You can of course get over-romanticised about a bloody canoe, but there was a great sense of history approaching the town from the water, something that generations of folk in Wivenhoe have been accustomed to.

Soon we were paddling past the Rose and Crown, onwards along the side of West Quay and then a sharp left up the Roman River. Fingringhoe had to be done, and preferably so before the already outgoing tide stranded us.

Five minutes up the twist and curves of the Roman River, and the North Essex aquatic nature totally immerses you. Thankfully no baptisms took place along the muddy waters of the North Essex estuary on Saturday afternoon.

Various birdlife accept you as part of their environment, flying incredibly close along the water and offering up spectacular viewing points. The Pisces within was a one happy man in a canoe. Meanwhile the Libra that is @AnnaJCowen was struggling to balance her boat, let alone her astrological scales.

We actually got lost up the Roman River - how is that possible? I’m not entirely sure, but we also managed to get lost along the Wivenhoe Trail the first time that we cycled it. The welcoming tower of St Mary’s was our guiding principle back to base.

A brief paddle upstream towards Rowhedge, and then a drift along with the outgoing tide back to the Sailing Club. Saturday afternoon tea was calling, as well as a hot shower. The Colne really is very mucky little pup.

And so a success of sorts. The struggle with the canoes back to base ‘aint great. We’re exploring other options (*cough* Sailing Club membership…)

But yeah - footloose and fancy free to explore the Colne, the Creek and all the many tributaries in-between. Any excuse to become encased in thick, black rubber.

What we have here is a potted oral history of Queen’s Road. Many, many thanks to Daryl for very kindly inviting me into his family home and putting himself forward for the recording.

This came about after some online dialogue with the good folk of the Queens Road Residents Association. It became clear that the road closure is far from the only issue that is involved here - Queens Road has a rich sense of history flowing from the top, down to the dip, and then back up towards Anglesea Road.

It is this hyperlocal historical observation that fascinates me. We couldn’t cover all of the stories and tales from one of Wivenhoe’s most historic streets during our short chat, but at least it is a start.

A start for what, I hear you say?

Well…

I put together a similar online oral history project back in South London a few summers ago. Sadly, for various organisational and *cough* political reasons, we never really got going.

I am very keen to continue with something along these lines in Wivenhoe. Oral history is a form of storytelling that fascinates me. I believe that documenting and archiving this conversation online is the perfect combination.

I am very interested in speaking with anyone in Wivenhoe who would like to offer up any story or life experience to share. It needn’t be strictly street focussed, as is the case with this first recording; it may simply be memories of living and growing up in the town.

Age is not important - I am as equally interested in new Wivenhoe folk as I am in some of the more mature members of our community. The process of collating and documenting this work digitally is something which I think has great value.

The excellent Sea Change is comprehensive, and in no way would I want to replicate this work. The technology now however is so simple and fast, that I can record the conversation with my iPhone and then pretty much publish and archive instantly.

As anyone who has spoken with me around the town as part of an audio recording will know, I always offer up the right of deletion at the end of our conversations, should something crop up that you might not feel comfortable in sharing.

Without wanting to put too much of a downer upon this - we’re all getting old; these stories need preserving. Capturing and archiving them online makes for the perfect working combination.

With the help of Daryl and the QRRA, I’m hopefully lining up interviews very soon with a chap who helped to set up Wivenhoe Town Football Club, as well as a gentleman who can remember the opening of the KGV back in 1938.

Please, please do contact me if you would like to be part of this project, or if you know of any other locals that you think would be interested in taking part.

Thanks again to Daryl and the QRRA - hopefully by opening up this information, some of the suspicion and questions about the road closure will become more open and transparent.

A decent turn out on Sunday morning for the bi-annual Wivenhoe Heritage Walk, organised by the good folk of the Wivenhoe Society. Sharp showers predated the 11am rendev vous at St Mary’s. By the time our brilliant Blue Badge guide Doreen Brimm had started the introductions, it was sunshine all the way for the next couple of hours.

The walk itself is part historical, part cultural, part plain gossip. Taking in a rough circular route heading down to The Station, along West Quay, up towards Anglesea Road and then finishing conveniently outside the Rose and Crown, buildings, characters and local myths make up the conversation.

It was all rather thirsty work, with most sentences being punctuated with “this building use to be a pub…” I was in need of a stiff drink when the good @Singyamatokun parted the wave of WivSoc walkers with a trail burning bike ride out towards Alresford.

Accompanying Doreen with extra-added local dialogue was John Stewart and a small selection of his truly wonderful historical photographs documenting Wivenhoe’s past.

Standing on the exact same spot and looking at an image from one hundred years earlier is quite a humbling experience. John will be staging an exhibition of these photographs at the Loveless Hall over the August Bank Holiday weekend.

This was the second time that @AnnaJCowen and I have completed the Heritage Walk. We weren’t alone in doubling up, with many other Sunday walkers sampling the experience for a second time, such is the level of detail added by Doreen.

It was great to finally meet up with @MrBoom, as well as other online and offline friends and acquaintances that made a point of coming over to say hello.

There is no denying the depth of historical interest in lower Wivenhoe, but I would also be interested in something similar towards the top of the town. The Cross itself has many tales to tell, taking in The Ropery, Toad Hall and some of the old farm houses out towards the University. These stories need telling and documenting, whilst local knowledge is still around to be shared.

We finished our WivSoc rambling aboard a boat, which was only appropriate after hearing many maritime stories throughout the morning. I wouldn’t suggest that modern day social history was being made, but it was mighty pleasant all the same.

See you again in six months time.

Not being a man of the cloth, I can still appreciate the solace of a sacred (for some) building and all the surrounds. I keep on being drawn back to the semi-abandoned beautiful old building of St Peter’s in Alresford, each time finding something new and rare to admire.

And so with the occasion of some visiting friends to Wivenhoe over the weekend, Easter Sunday was spent marching down to the Quay and past the tolling bells of St Mary’s, out towards the Creek and then a round circuit through Alresford and back by Anglesea Road.

Along the route and we took time out to worship at the Easter erieness of St Peter’s. I’m still not buying into the whole black magic myth to explain the burning down of the 700 year-old building back in the early ’70s. It’s a chilling local story, but I suspect plain vandalism is more to blame.

Being able to walk on the ground where the altar stood for more than 700 years, on this very special of special days for Christians, really had an historical thread running through it.

Centuries would have been spent celebrating this day on this exact same spot, yet here I was, walking boots and cut off jeans, stomping around and being able to poke my camera (and audio mic) wherever I wanted.

Much like the whole black magic myth, I have little faith in the whole Resurrection fairy tale. But you need to respect those around you, and so when a family came to lay some flowers upon a grave, we knew that our trespassing time was probably up. The visiting friends were getting a little fed up as well…

Perhaps this is a new religion for non-believers - enjoying historical religious buildings on a sacred day, but through the interested mind of an amateur architectural lover, and a budding audio and image blogger?

Blimey.

Once again - please bare with me whilst I experiment with these audio slideshow formats. The software isn’t perfect - but it is a crude fit to achieve the intended effect. The audio runs in a loop, which you can mute in the top left hand corner.

As ever - any kind Facebook or RSS reading folk will need to head to the actual post on m’blog over here.

And so after the marvel of the Morris Men outside the Black Buoy, Boxing Day was in need of a walk to recover from all of the chaos. The plan was for a simple stroll down to the front, out towards the Sailing Club, and then back at base before the Black Buoy booze wore off.

Somehow @AnnaJCowen and I became attracted towards the adventure of the ice out towards Alresford, and just kept on walking.

Dog walkers approaching in the opposite direction warned us off the icy path that lay ahead. But we persisted, past the Sailing Club, and then a cross-country cut through back on to the Alresford Road.

Much of the snow from a week earlier remained untouched, concealing iced over streams that stretched out away from the estuary. A particular patch had a strange yellow glow. We resisted the temptation to eat.

And then just as we were heading over the fields and back on to the main road, a polite head nod and a hello towards a fellow Boxing Day leg stretcher soon became a rather enjoyable conversation.

Reference points were made, and it seems that my identity had been blown. Bugger. But fear not - our fellow rambler was terrific late afternoon company, and kept @AnnaJCowen and I hanging off his every word with tales of Wivenhoe past.

By now and the skies truly were bruising. Anglesea Road was an ice rink, with the peak of Park Road fairing little better. Back at base and there was just enough time for a warming cup of tea, before… heading back out to the Black Buoy once again.

Blimey.

#chinchin