UXB - UNEXPLODED BOMB

 



Heinkel HE 1-11

 

 In the Dad's Army episode "Something Nasty in the Vault", an unexploded SC50 traps Captain Mainwaring and Sergeant Wilson in the bank vault.

While doing research for BLOOD ON THE TIDE I needed to find out about unexploded bombs, discovered after WW2. There's a wonderful pub, called the Red Lion at Snargate, that hasn't changed since the 1950s. On the wall was a chart showing 'where the bombs fell in Kent'. The whole map of the county was peppered with black dots. Many were 'doodlebugs', V1 and V2 flying bombs, that fell short of their targets - usually London. But a significant number were those that had been dropped by German bombers returning after a raid, anxious to get rid of excess playload as they fled the pursuing Spitfires and Hurricanes. It was one such that was discovered in the book at Compass Point. This was how Captain Valiant and Sapper Rankin, the bomb disposal experts I had created, described its recovery in the book.

Captain Valiant recovering the SE50 at Compass Point

The timing device was exposed, in surprisingly good condition, considering the length of time it had been buried. Probably, both men agreed, silt and mud covering it had preserved it from the ravages of seawater. Valiant took the proffered wire-cutters that Rankin had anticipated he would need. With a muttered thanks, he reached into the exposed cavity, snipped twice then exhaled noisily.

 ‘Phew, that’s it then.’ Leaning back he looked out towards the horizon. He could see a thin line as the sea started to return. ‘Come on mate, we’d better get a move on. We need the A-frame and tackle so we can lift this blighter out before we get wet.’

-0-

 

‘Jerry designated it an SC fifty. A Heinkel HE one-eleven could carry 40 of these 50 kilogram jobs and each one contained 25 kilos of TNT. Despite their relative small size they could cause quite a blast. Not only that, but the exploding case would send lethal pieces of shrapnel, flying off in all directions - at about 7000 miles an hour.’

Salt screwed up his face and winced. ‘Nasty.’

‘Quite,’ Valiant said. ‘Luckily this one didn’t go off. Possibly the pilot ditched it on the way back from a raid. It happened a lot. Once they’d dumped their bombs on London they high-tailed it back across the channel as quickly as they could, usually pursued by Spits and Hurricanes. Then they’d get rid of as much weight as possible. This one’s been sitting in the mud and silt, covered up, ever since.’

 

 

 

 

GALE WARNINGS

Northern gale expected at Compass Point.

It's well know that we British are obsessed with the weather, it's almost an inevitable topic of conversation when two or more people meet. We've got so used to instant weather forecasts on our phones, computers and at regular intervals on television it's almost impossible to realise that it wasn't always thus. 

Not so long ago those who went to sea would be cautious before setting sail, studying the weather conditions and were usually very skilled at predicting,from the wind and the clouds, what changes were likely. They also looked for advice from those in the know, including the Admiralty and coastguard service. One of the ways the could be informed was by the hoisting of a storm cone. This took the form of a canvas bag in the shape of a cone. If the point was upwards, there was a gale expected from the north and downwards, from the south. If the gales were incessant a drum shape was hoisted.

Interestingly, Rear Admiral Robert Fitzroy was heavily involved in promoting safety at sea, especially with the use of cones, and ultimately had a shipping forecast area named after him.

SHIFTING SHINGLE

Excavator loading dumper truck

The tide is an extraordinary force to be reckoned with. Sailors and fishermen, if they're wise, treat it with respect. In my more active sailing days I crossed the channel, on several occasions. This was before the days of satellite navigation when you had to be able to read a chart and use a compass and... if you were going out of sight of land for any length of time, know how to use a sextant. I had been out of sight of land on several occasions but I was never that far out at sea that I needed to use one. Anyway, I digress.

Rye Harbour breakwater

Not only do the tides move the oceans up and down but it also affects the beaches and along this stretch of coast this means shifting the shingle. So, over the course of several months our beach at Pett Level ends up tight against the breakwater at Rye Harbour. Therefore, somehow, this needs to be remedied by bringing the shingle back.

Narrow gauge railway track

Simplex locomotive

Originally a two foot narrow gauge railway ran along the top of the sea wall, all the way from Rye Harbour to Cliff End. A little petrol locomotive, called a bow-framed Simplex, pulled a rake of skip wagons, each one holding a ton of shingle. This obviously required many journeys but it must have worked as the practice continued well into the 1950s. How things have changed.

Dumper trucks at sunset

Nowadays a fleet of six dumper trucks, each holding 20 times the capacity of the railway skips, trundles the five miles back and forth along the sea wall, full of shingle travelling west and empty returning east. A pickup truck acts as escort vehicle. This goes on from late November until March, then the sea shifts it all back and the following winter it starts all over again.

Sea wall - Pett Level

*PETRIFIED FOREST AND ROCK POOLS

One of the main reasons we moved here was because of the close proximity to the sea. It means that most days, come rain or shine, you'll find me making my way, across the fields to the beach, a journey that can take as little as eight or nine minutes.

It's not your conventional beach, either. When the tide is in, there's just a shingle strand, with occasional glimpses of sand, but when the tide is out, it's magical. Not only is there acres of sand exposed, which Aggie loves to run on, but there are numerous rock pools and ... a sunken forest.

Stretching for 2 kilometers along the shore it's thought to be around 6000 years old. *However, some erroneously call it petrified but this would mean that the trees had turned to stone, which they haven't as you can poke your finger in the timber. Oak, birch and hazel have been identified and hazelnuts that have been found can be carbon-dated to 5,200BC. Small and large mammals roamed through the forest and evidence of burning suggests that there was some deliberate management of the woodland.

Most of the trees are flat but there is one group, not far off shore, that is quite distinctive, not just because it is visible in all but the highest tides but because it featured in a famous pop video. The much missed David Bowie's Ashes to Ashes video was filmed right here at Pett Level. Towards the end of the film, he's being berated by an old lady and as they walk along the beach the gnarled wooden fingers appear in shot.

BLUE BOULDERS & RYE HARBOUR

A 'blue boulder' collecter

Coming from a background in ceramics I'm always intrigued to learn about industries that are related to the process of producing pottery. One such, albeit a cottage industry, was carried out very close to where I live, at Rye Harbour.

A boulder boat



It involved the collection of 'blue boulders', large flint pebbles that were found in quantities among the shingle around the harbour. Men, and women, would beach a small 'boulder' boat, capable of carrying two to three tons, down by the foreshore and collect the stones by hand. When they had filled the boat, they would wait for the tide to float it off then sail back to the harbour and offload the cargo into a special bay. From here they would be loaded into larger vessels. These would take the boulders round the coast to Runcorn or Selby where they were transferred into narrow boats for shipment to Stoke-on-Trent.

Transferring boulders into a railway wagon

In later years they would have been transferred into railway trucks at the railhead by the William the Conqueror pub. Once in Stoke the flints were mixed with coal, heated in hoppers then ground to a powder which would be mixed with clay to make much stronger and more white pottery.

Men with boulders

Those engaged in it would have made a modest living, if not an easy one, but at least they were out in the fresh air. In the 1920s they were paid nine shillings a ton - 45 pence in today's money. Out of this they had to pay sixpence - 2 1/2 pence - as a royalty and were only allowed to collect 200 tons in a year. The trade died out naturally in the early 1950s but in some places it still possible to see the occasional uncollected pile of 'blue boulders.'



My interpretation of a boulder train.

All photos, except the last one, courtesy of Ryeharbour.net



 LUGWORMS AND OSTERCATCHERS

 

 

I touched on baitdiggers in an earlier post but thought I'd do a bit more research into the worms they seek.

The Lugworm, or Blow Lug Arenicola marina is conspicuous by its absence. What you do see however, are two telltale indicators of its presence. On flat sand, when the tide is out, you will often see lots of little sand wiggles, some forming a messy pile, others an almost perfect Fibonacci spiral. Sometimes they are the same colour as the sand, at others they are dark, showing there is a layer of mud, just below the surface. Close by there will often be a dimple. The worm lives in a U-shaped burrow and the cast is sand that has passed through the creature, after the food has been seperated from it and the 'dimple' is where its mouth lies as it sucks in the sand. These are what the baitdiggers look for.

The other feature of low tide is the wading birds, commonist of which round here is the Oystercatcher Haematopus. The latin name comes from Greek, haima, blood, pous, foot. The common name replaces the older Sea pie.

However, the name Oystercatcher is a bit of a red herring (sorry about the mixed metaphors) as they generally eat mussels and cockles, bristle worms and even sea urchins, small fish and crabs.



Whatever they eat, they are are always entertaining to watch as they dabble around in the rock pools, their song, an urgent piping, then taking off in a flurry of wings when disturbed.



COMING CLEAN

 

Briqueterie de Lomme 

 

I was contacted by a reader who said her book group is reading Blood on the Tide, which is great news. But she wanted to know where some of the locations are. I explained, that like my characters, they are an amalgam of research and memories of places I've visited. One of the questions was about the brickworks, which plays a pivotal roll in the book. I had to come clean. 

 

 

Excavating clay

 

The brickworks was inspired by The Briqueterie du Nord, in Lomme, near Lille in northern France. (You can google it). However, there was a brickworks up Udimore Road from Rye, near where the Valley Park estate has been built. I know this from experience as I have designed and built three gardens on the site and there is solid clay just below the surface. Also there is an existing brickworks at Three Oaks.

The clay train

Having been involved in the ceramics industry for the first part of my working life, I know quite a lot about clay, so, hopefully, I've got the details right.

And did I say that Blood on the Tide is available on Amazon in both Paperback and Kindle





INTRODUCING WOMEN

One or two of my readers have given me a verbal rap over the knuckles for having an all male 'cast' in Blood on the Tide. I did, in fact introduce one young German female, but she only played a small part in the story. So I'm trying now to make amends.

In the soon to be published Blood on the Shrine, DI Sonny Russell has a love interest. It's not giving too much away to say that he is smitten but ... she is not all she seems.

And in Blood on the Strand, which is my current work in progress, there is now a WPC Nettie Sharp, who, I think, is going to play a major part in the story. There is also a female jewelry expert whose character I'm just about to develop. She may come from aristocracy that has fallen on hard times, but you'll have to wait and see - so will I until I discover what direction she takes!

WRITER'S BLOCK?

 

Writer's block? Touch wood, it hasn't happened yet. But... I do get stuck on plot lines and character development form time to time. So what do I do? Sit and stare at the screen? Just write rubbish, hoping something useful will come out of it? Panic? None of these. I take myself, and Aggie, for a walk to the beach, preferably when the tide is out.

Then, as we roam on the exposed sand and rock pools, my mind roams too, things become clearer and ideas coalesce. When I return home, 'Hey Presto!' I'm back on track.

I just love the solitude, the sound of the waves, the feel of the wind and, of course, the birds. The insistent and nervous piping of the oystercatchers, trotting on their orange legs, looking for cockles to eat; the bubbling song, and rising glissando of curlews then, when disturbed, their urgent, arrow-straight flight, beaks drooping like a feathered Concorde.

 

 

And at the end of the walk, time to sit down on a bench and just savour the seascape for a few minutes before returning home, filled with a new enthusiasm to get on with writing. Which is what I must do now.



PUSHMI - PULLYU

 



I had a spare twenty minutes waiting for my daughter so took advantage of being close to Rock-a-Nore beach, where the Hastings beach-launched fishing fleet is based - the largest in the country. It's a wonderful jumble of fishing gear and rusty relics, as well as old and modern beach boats.

Back in the 19th century, horses were used to bring the boats back up the beach when they returned after a fishing trip. They were used to drive a windlass which wound a thick rope round a pulley which pulled the boat in. By the twentieth century the poor old horse was replaced by a geared winch, man-powered. This must have carried on until the advent of the internal combustion engine, which powered the winches until comparitively recently. Below, on the left is one of the hand-cranked variety, on the right, a powered monster.

 

 

There are many sitting around on the beach, now derelict and the reason is...

 

Well, the drawback with any winch, is that it pulls, but doesn't push so launching relied on men putting their shoulders to the boats and pushing them down the shingle and into the sea. The innovation that allowed pushing as well as pulling is the tracked bulldozer. There are more of these than there are winches and many are even more derelict, replaced as they wear out by slightly less work-worn examples. The constant sea air, and sea water takes its toll on them, hence the number of non-working rust heaps. I'm not sure if Huw Lofting ever visited but he would have been impressed by the pushmi-pullyu's on the beach.

 

 

I've just had a very successful weekend taking part in the xmas art fair at the Rye Harbour sailing club. I just managed to get a pitch as a result of a last minute cancellation. The other exhibitors where showing artwork or crafts but were happy to have me there with my model of Compass Point and my books.

It was so good that I actually sold out and had to borrow extra copies that I'd supplied to the nearby Avocet Gallery, who were also taking part in the xmas fair. I had details of the next to two books, which were well received and it was great to be able to show the layout in the setting it was inspired by.

I was also able to point out the still extant Golf Links Halt, one time intermediate station on the Rye and Camber Tram, across the river. This line ran from 1895 until 1939 and the layout is partially an homage to it.

Althogether a most convivial weekend with lovely people. The visitors weren't bad either!

The view from the end of the line.



BAGGYWRINKLE AND THE BITTER END

 



The river front in Gravesend is not what it was. At one time, not so long ago, the river would have been teeming with craft of many sorts - lighters, tugs, pilot boats, all manner of smaller boats as well as the associated shoreside nautical paraphernalia. Sadly most of this has gone, but I did come across one or two remants including a section of landing stage, the remains of two winches and these gracefully curved structures. They are davits. These were, and still are - you can often see them on the stern of large motor cruisers - used to lift or launch smaller boats. It got me thinking abnout other nautical terms, often used by landlubbers without really knowing their meaning or origin. Here are a handful.

bitter end: The last part or loose end of a rope or cable. The anchor cable is tied to the
bitts; when the cable is fully paid out, the bitter end has been reached.

bitts: A post or pair mounted on the ship's bow, for fastening ropes or cables.

spring: A line used parallel to that of the length of a craft, to prevent fore-aft motion of a boat, when moored or docked.

avast: Stop, cease or desist from whatever is being done. From the Dutch hou' vast - "hold on".

And probably one of the best and most obscure:
baggywrinkle: A soft covering for cables (or any other obstructions) that prevents sail chafing.

Finally a term used to mean something that is awkward or requires an inordinate amount of effort:
devil to pay: "Paying" the devil is sealing the devil seam. It is a difficult and unpleasant job (with no resources) because of the shape and postion of the seam. (To pay is to fill a seam between two planks with caulking or pitch).

SIR GILES GILBERT SCOTT

 

 

While researching for the soon to be published, Blood on the Shrine, I wanted to find out more about the iconic red telephone box. Essentially I knew that it had been designed by Sir Giles Glibert Scott but didn't realise how prolific an architect he had been. Blending gothic tradition with modern he produced a huge, varied canon of work - Livepool Cathedral, Cambridge University Library, Waterloo Bridge and Battersea Power station and Bankside power station, now Tate Modern amongst his works.

 

 

Today we went to Gravesend with my wife's American cousin so he could meet his English relatives. We visited The Church of Our Lady of Assumption in Northfleet where the family have a pew. I was interested to discover that it is yet another design from Scott's drawing board. It's pretty massive, in brutal regular brickwork but there are some lovely details inside. I will take more notice of his work in future, not just the telephone box.

 

 

 

 



INSPIRATION AND ILLUMINATION

 

 

 

I am very fortunate in that I don't often suffer from writers block. If I get stuck with a plot line or the development of a character or situation I find that a walk to the beach usually gets the little grey cells glowing and the synapses firing.

 

I'm not sure why it is - perhaps the physical exercise helps to loosen something or maybe the proximity of such a powerful element as the sea unlocks some hidden ideas. Whatever it is, I usually get home raring to go on the next instalment of what I'm currently writing.

 

 



I regularly walk on 'our' beach, at Pett Level but quite often venture a little further afield to Winchelsea Beach or, as today, Rye Harbour. At both of these places I feel in tune with my detective, DI Sonny Russell, as he lives nearby and often does the same walk. In this way, I can fell close to my creation and it gives me inspiration to describe how he reacts to, and interacts with, the world he inhabits.

BLOOD ON THE SHRINE

Hurrah! I've finished the sequel to Blood on the Tide. It's titled BLOOD ON THE SHRINE and begins with a suspicious death in a Buddhist retreat where DI Sonny Russell is supposed to be having a relaxing weekend. Just in case you haven't read the first book I don't want to give too much away but as the story unfolds, his sidekick, DC Johnny Weeks, uncovers a plot to rob a mail train and becomes entangled with the crooks planning it.

Also, you'll be pleased to know that the little German with the gammy leg, Wolfgang Muller, has returned, intent on springing his brother, Ludwig, from prison and, during the story, has adventures of his own. The plot gets even more complicated when something happens to poor DC Weeks. 

It's now got to the stage where I need to design a cover. My good friend, Paul Harwood will do the final artwork but I've been playing around with some ideas and this is the sort of look I'm after. Having practised meditation for many years I'm keen to get the cover right but I'm fairly happy with the way it is going.

My in-house editor has been through the manuscript once, as have I, and it is now in the hands of a good friend in Thailand, who has a meticulous eye, to see what errors he can find, then it will go off to the printers. It's all very exciting.