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.

LOW TIDE AND BAIT DIGGERS - WINCHELSEA BEACH

 

There's no better place for a walk round here than Winchelsea Beach at low tide. The sand stretches out for a quarter of a mile, flat and perfect for Aggie to run on. Also, it's the nearest beach to DI Sonny Russell's railway carriage home in Blood on the Tide.

There are a few pools and lagoons with rivulets running back to the sea, generally shallow or narrow enough to get across without mishap. At this time of year the sunsets, to the west, over Cliff End, near where I live, can be quite spectacular.

The other feature of low tide is the bait diggers.

 

 

Nowadays, bait 'digger' is a bit of a misnomer. Originally, these hardy souls would go out on the flat sand, looking for ragworms and lugworm, armed with a narrow-bladed spade and a bucket tied across their shoulders with a length of rope or twine. They would seek out the telltale worm casts on the surface of the beach, often coloured by a lower layer of darker sand or mud.

 

 

 

These dark squiggles mark the top of the worm's burrow and the digger would dig like fury, hoping to catch the worm before it burrowed deeper. As I said,  this is how they used to operate.

 

Nowadays they have, what can only be described as, a super-duper bicycle pump. This they push down onto the top of the squiggle, rapidly pull up the handle on the pump, sucking up sand and, hopefully the worm. The handle is then depressed, squirting the soggy mess onto the sand and the worm, if it's there, is grabbed and chucked into the bucket. This is not now tied round the shoulders but carried regally in a little four-wheeled cart, rather like an infant's babywalker. Today, there were no less than ten of these gentlemen, lined up along the shoreline and as dusk fell, head torches were switched on, making them appear like so many fireflies, as their heads bobbed up and down.

 

 

 

And so, dusk falls, leaving a dramatic sky and just enough time to get back before it's too dark to see where we're going.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





DREAMS AND DECAY

Today I gave my talk, From Pottery to Potting Shed or How I became a Gardener to an audience of 80 plus members of the Faversham U3A. (University of the Third Age, that is). It was well received and I was done by 3pm. Rather than head straight for home I elected to explore the local area.

I think I'd been there some time before but wanted to look a little more deeply into the maritime heritage. I found my way to Standard Quay http://standardquay.co.uk/shops-and-more/ with antique shops, a wine bar and cafe but I was more interested in the boats.

Moored along the quay there are a number of historic Thames sailing barges, dating from the end of the 19th century and early 20th century, so all over 100 years old, some under restoration and others, a little more derelict. Also some substantial iron vessels, converted, not all that sympathetically into house boats. I did have a chat with a nice chap whose brother was restoring a Thames tug, built, I think, in 1908. He had already removed the out of character, oversize coach house and was reinstating a lower structure with portholes.I look forward to returning in a year or two to see the results. But I was intent on visiting the nearby Iron Wharf, on the other side of a wonderful brick warehouse with the legend UNITED FERTILISER Co LTD emblazoned, but fading, along the side.

Iron Wharf was set up over 25 years ago by two sailing barge owners. It's basically a do-it-yourself boatyard where owners work on their own boats, at their own pace. Hence, there are, at one end of the scale, craft being beautifully restored to, at the other end of the scale, those in such a sad state of dereliction that the only water they are likely to see is that which falls from the sky. This one of the former.

And one of the latter

HASTINGS NET SHOPS

As part of the research for the third in the DI Sonny Russell 'Blood' series of novel, provisionally entitled, Blood on the Strand, I needed to do some research into the Hastings Net Shops. These 50 or so unique listed buildings are an outstanding feature of the fishermen's beach at Rock-a-Nore.

Most are three stories high, with few only having two floors. They were traditionally used for drying fishing gear in the days when nets and ropes were made of natural materials which were prone to rot if left out in the open. The reason for their unusual dimensions is that space between the sea and the cliffs was limited so each shop could only have a footprint of about eight feet square, hence the need to build upwards. Originally, when the tide came in further, they were built on legs so the water could flow underneath, but later, when the shingle built up, some even had cellars.

After I had received some gentle criticism for not including more female characters in my book, I have introduced a WPC, Nettie Sharp, who has to interview some fisherman at Rock-a-Nore after a mysterious crate washes up on the beach. Also, you'll be pleased to hear, there is some love interest for Sonny Russell in book two, Blood on the Shrine, although not is all as it seems.

The header picture and the one below are of my model railway layout in a wine box, Castle Quay, which incorporates models of the net shops.

Re-purposed railwayana

 

 Those of you who have read Blood on the Tide (you haven't?!) will know that DI Sonny Russell lives in a converted railway carriage somewhere near Compass Point. Well, this is the inspiration for it. It's a holiday home called Shinglesea on a stony track near the sea at Winchelsea Beach - there, I've given it away.

I'll also give something else away. Shinglesea is actually a vintage double decker bus, split in half. The lower deck, in the photo, is parallel to the track and the upper deck goes off at right-angles at the back, but to all intents and purposes, it looks like a railway carriage.

 

It's been owned by the same family for many years. I met the current generation and they're really nice people. How did I meet them? I used the carriage/bus as the basis for my first Chelsea Flower show garden in 2007 and checked that they wouldn't mind. In fact they were delighted, plus I got them tickets to the show.

 

 

 

My friend, Robert Patch, who has a furniture making workshop at Rye Harbour (renamed in the book, Compass Point - there, I've done it again!) made me a 4.5 metre long facade of a Victorian railway carriage. We put 4 tonnes of shingle in the garden and planted drought tolerant trees, shrubs and perennials straight into it. Even Her Majesty, The Queen was impressed. Well, she shook my hand, anyway.

 

We're currently having a relaxing break in Suffolk and I've come across a couple of other redundant railway items. The first is the old waiting room on Clare station.

 

 

The setting is lovely, now a pleasant park, surrounding what is left of Clare castle - not much, as it happens. The main station building has been re-purposed as a cafe, which looked inviting but as we'd already eaten in the splendid Cafe Clare in the town, we sadly had to give it a miss. The waiting room, on the opposite platform, looks as if it could open for traveller at any time. Maybe it will be the stand-in for the station building at Collinghurst?

 

This item was spotted in Dedham - a redundant railway van. I particularly like the way it has a nice rusty, curved corrugated iron roof and nature, in the way of ivy and fast-growing saplings are gradually making it part of the natural world. 

 

 

I can imagine one of Sonny Russell's future adversaries using it as a hide-out. Now there's an idea.