2013-08-04 - Going Nuclear - Part 2 - Foulness

Thanks everyone, I had a great time. Perfect weather as you've all said and we were a lot earlier than the ride in 2011. I think the lack of those things we shouldn't talk about and the slightly weird complete absence of wee stops definitely helped.

It was generally a great group to lead but I do feel I should single out a few special contributions... Theo gets the HTFU award for going on a big night out on Friday, riding to Brighton on Saturday fixed, then doing this today. Bothwell gets the 'most stalwart hangover riding' award and Jurek definitely clinches the 'most ridiculous nuclear elf 'n' safety' award for his tale of how you can't bring baby oil into Sellafield because it's too hazardous! I think Yossarian won the traditional reservoir sprint: he went past me like he wasn't even trying :/

The ladies of Foulness scoop 'best value tea and cake' and Mr and Mrs Morris Minor Traveller (MMT) definitely got 'best classic car owners'. That car has apparently done 300,000 miles :o

Mrs MMT told me about how Mr MMT has cycled London-Southend a few times, as has their 12 year old daughter. They like to drive slowly so they see stuff and they don't understand why everyone blasts around the countryside in their cars... why can't all car owners be like this??

I almost feel like the island was trying to trick you with it's balmy weather today. Last time we went to the Broomway it looked like this:

When the tide comes in it apparently comes in faster than you can run, so you can see the problem with the Broomway. This is it on the OS map:

There's a good article on it from the local paper here:
http://www.echo-news.co.uk/echofeatures/914472.Exploring_the_truth_behind_island_s_deadly_footpath/

And this is the rather good write up of riding it on motocross bikes on Essex Bikers I was talking about:
http://www.essexbikers.co.uk/forum/showthread.php?23659-The-Mud-Monkeys-try-to-drown-themselves

Complete with video!
Essexbikers on the Broomway, Foulness - YouTube

But yeah, don't be fooled by the sunshine and the tea and cake, Foulness is all a bit dark really. Like the scientist killed building a dirty bomb or this extract from The History of Rochford Hundred by Philip Benton (1867):

Amongst those who have been drowned upon these occasions was Thomas Jackson, an apothecary, in the year 1711, who was buried at Rochford. Thomas Miller, surgeon, of Great Wakering, son of Morton Miller, of the same place, was likewise lost coming from Foulness, August 21st, 1805, aged 45. He was on horseback, and was discovered swimming in the haven by some men in a barge, who conducted him to Land Wick blackgrounds, and it is supposed his horse afterwards threw and kicked him, as a mark of the shoe appeared on his temple.

In 1857, William Harvey, a shepherd, was drowned, in consequence, it is thought, of having been led astray by the Horns light. Another of these victims was Gardner, of Havengore, Mr. Archer's son in law. He was extremely deaf, and being set down from a cart near his own head-way, wandered from the track. His cries were heard from the shore, but on account of his infirmity he did not hear his would-be deliverers. It would have been dangerous to leave the land in total darkness, and the shrieks of lost persons have been imitated.

One of the most recent casualties was that of an unfortunate Irish policeman, who, from a sense of duty, having a paper to deliver, remained too long in the island, and though warned, would attempt the passage, and was overtaken and lost his life, by the raging water at the first creek.

One of the most distressing events of this nature occured in 1836, when two poor girls named Chittocks and Bates were found dead, not drowned, but exhausted from cold, wet, and fright. Although entreated to stay at Wakering, they refused, as they expected to meet their sweethearts on the opposite side. The night was a frightful one, incessant rain, with frequent flashes of forked lightning. Nearly all Foulness attended their funeral.

They still say that on stormy nights when the rain is lashing down and the wind howls across the island you can hear Chittocks and Bates, calling and hoping you will hear, calling you from across the sands...