Thorney Island 23rd July 2021
Thorney Island is like the Isle of Thanet in that it isn’t an island at all – they are both attached to the mainland. However, both were islands at one time and may well be again before too long.
In fact on closer inspection it would be reasonable to call Thorney Island an island, since all that joins the southern part of the peninsular to the northern is two narrow causeways crossing the body of water called the Great Deep. It sounds like a film from the Jaws genre, or an extract from The Old Testament.
The Great Deep was once the body of tidal water that seperated Thorney Island from Prinsted, but with the arrival of the military in 1933 everything changed. During the war years its large flat expanse of land made it ideal for a bomber base, whose personnel soon replaced the small civilian population that occupied the village of West Thorney. The RAF left in the 1970s but were quickly replaced by the Royal Artillery who now occupy Baker Barracks on the island.
After yesterdays advice from the ‘Marcelo Bielsa look-alike’ at Chidham Point, we realise that cycling around the island will not be permitted, so we boot-up and prepare to walk the 10 or 11 miles around Thorney. Our start point is in the village of Hermitage, the last bit of coast before we cross into Emsworth and Hampshire.
Our first encounter with salty water is not the open sea, but Slipper Mill Pond. This 7 acre brackish water pond was built in the mid 18th Century to provide a reservoir for a tide mill. As with other tide mills we have encountered around the UK coast, sea water was allowed through sluices into the pond at high water. This would have been supplemented by freshwater entering from the River Ems. Over the next 6 hours, as the tide fell, the water escaping from Slipper Mill Pond would have driven an undershot wheel, which in turn would have provided the motive power to grind corn.
An interpretative board fills us in on the history of Slipper Mill Pond
Now the pond is a nature reserve with an interesting mix of species normally found in salt water, brackish water and fresh water, as well as water’s edge plants and animals. Amongst the best ‘ticks’ are Tentacled Lagoon Worm and The Starlett Sea Anemone. We however are most taken by some excellent specimens of Wild Carrot growing on the verge. Betty says she would like to introduce some into our garden, with their expansive white umbels of flowers, which include a single red floret slap-bang in the middle of each head.
As we are examining a particularly good specimen we attract the interest of one of the locals.
“What’s the difference between them and hogweed, or for that matter hemlock?” He asks.
This is grist to my mill as I explain the purple spots on the tall stems of hemlock are a good indicator, whilst the red spot in the middle of wild carrot flower is usually reliable.
“I’m told you can eat hogweed seeds.” He adds, seeking my confirmation of this fact.
I have to confess my ignorance of this foraging opportunity, although I can now confirm that various texts suggest it is.
“Watch out for its big brother, Giant Hogweed,” I mind him, “not to mention Hemlock – both of which are dangerous.”
I go on to point-out that Wild Carrot is the precursor of the domesticated variety, having a small carrot-shaped white tap-root of its own. Hopefully I have kindled an interest in botany in yet another of my students.
My public service duties completed, we carry-on south through a boat yard and marina. I always feel a little guilty doing this, even if a public right of way is indicated on the map. However, quite a few other walkers are doing likewise, so we follow them until we come out on the sea wall which will take us on a circumnavigation of Thorney Island.
The Sea Wall at the north-western end of Thorney Island
Two couples are some-way ahead of us and we catch up with the back-most couple as the sea wall crosses The Great Deep. Masses of sea water is gushing into the still blue waters of The Great Deep as it is High Water. It gives a good indication of the power of the water moving in and out of Slipper Mill Pond we encountered in Hermitage, in its day. Today all this tidal energy is wasted. Perhaps the military should look into inserting a turbine into the sluices to generate electricity?
The Great Deep with high tide waters gushing into it.
As we approach the far side I can see that a tall metal gate blocks our way. The couple in front of us have just finished talking to an intercom and hold the gate open. I thank them, but don’t want to give the military any excuse to shoot two unauthorised entrants.
“Can we come in?” I say lamely to the lump of metal in front of me.
“Yes sir. I saw you coming and instructed the last lady to hold the gate open for you.” Comes a pleasant male voice from out of the metal box.
“Don’t you want our details?” I ask a little disappointed – like a small boy who was hoping to have his passport stamped by a customs official.
“No need sir.” I am reassured.
I look around and indeed see that a number of cameras are pointed at me. Doubtless the military have the latest facial recognition software and already know where we live, my date of birth and my shoe-size! Perhaps one day the human on the other end will be replaced by an AI equivalent, perhaps with an appropriately officious manner. I prefer the current version.
Slightly non-plussed I enter the secretive world of Thorney Island. The vegertation here looks exactly the same as the stuff already passed. However, there is a slightly sinister feel about the place and I half expect to have a soldier in full combat gear leap out from the adjacent reed bed.
In fact no such thing happens all day, as we make our way along a well trod path between the island’s wild interior and the familiar lapping of waves on intertidal pebbles. It is another hot day and I am glad of my hat and my full bottle of water. I’m going to need both.
The entry gate and accompanying signs leave walkers in doubt as to who is in charge here.
Looking inland (forbidden territory for civilian members of the public) there appear to be many more trees than suggested on the OS map. Most are probably only 10-20 years old, either due to invasion of the island’s fields, or intentional planting as screening for the military. Much of this part of the island looks to be lower than the current high tide level. I suspect it would have been salt marsh centuries ago, which was reclaimed by the island’s inhabitants in much the same way as elsewhere around the UK. The raised sea wall that the path follows would have been created by digging earth to form a ditch (borrow-dyke) on the inland side of the sea wall, in turn created from the excavated soil of the ditch. On the seaward side of the sea wall are drains, which take water from the borrow dykes into the sea at low tide. More about them later! I note that the beach area and parts of the sea wall are lined with old bricks, probably derived from former military buildings.
In the foreground is the overgrown borrow dyke, with a screen of trees in the distance shielding the military from prying eyes.
The southern end of the island has a remnant of the salt marsh that must have surrounded the whole island at one time. Here we find a couple of benches to relax on, one of which provided by way of a memorial to one of the base’s soldiers killed in action in Afghanistan
Memorial bench to Sean Reeve – killed in action 2008
About the only natural beach is to be found at the southern end of the island – mostly rounded pebbles. We take this opportunity to walk alongside the pleasantly lapping waves, but finding it hard walking, we return to the footpath. A dedicated old chap is busy shuffling along the path picking up bits of litter dropped by walkers, or blown up from the strand line. Yet another stalwart of the community determined to conserve the coastal wilderness.
As we round the southern end of the island we catch a rare sight of a high speed military vehicle belting along the disused runway. I decide not to take a photograph – just in case it gets me into hot water! However, two fishermen are casting their lines out into Chichester Harbour so I sneak a photograph of them instead. I feel like some kind of spy. The island is obviously getting to me!
Further sea fishermen seeking prey in the waters of Chichester Harbour
The southern end of the island is exposed to wave action coming from the English Channel, through the narrow strip of water between Hayling Island and West Wittering. Here waves have removed the concrete revetment protecting the low cliffs.
Southern tip of the island is exposed to the power of the open sea
Beyond the low cliffs the coast is largely depositional in character, with an area of well vegetated sand dunes linking Thorney Island to the small RSPB reserve at Pilsey Island, a few hundred metres off-shore.
As we round the south east point of the island we are forced into a narrow tunnel of blackthorn scrub which needs to be regularly cleared. Without this, passage would be impossible. As it happens I still manage to injure my bare head on a branch designed to catch out anyone over 6 foot tall. As we walk Betty points out a larger expanse of salt marsh she has spotted through the scrub. When we emerge from the far end, I attempt to get a photograph, only to disappear down a large concrete drain hidden from view by vegetation. Betty has no idea where I have gone to, until I stagger up the sea wall, my knee bleeding from my second brush with death. As I stand up my head comes into contact with a sign which warns people to watch out for buried drains. Coast walking can be a tricky business.
An elusive stretch of salt marsh on the south east side of the island
knee lacerated from my tumble into a drainage ditch!
Gashed bonce after my brush with blackthorn
St Nicholas Church, West Thorney
Looking like a casualty of war I stagger on until we find ourselves at West Thorney, where a civilian sailing club has been allowed to co-exist with the Army Inshore Sail Training Centre. The water here is alive with people of all ages in boats and on sail boards. However, I am most interested in the small church which is open to the public. St Nicholas Parish Church is dedicated to the patron saint of sailors (not Christmas!). It was built around 1100 AD and has a magnificent vaulted timber roof.
The vaulted roof of St Nicholas Church
Thorney Island Sailing Club and Army Inshore Sail Training Centre activities
Our route continues northwards along the coast path until once again we are met by a metal gate barring our path. Once again I take the opportunity of having a brief conversation with the disembodied military voice – via an intercom, before being allowed to cross back over The Great Deep and finally back to our car.
We still have about 4 hours remaining before we are due to have tea with my brother who lives in Emsworth. Rather than waste the opportunity, we decide to cycle along the coast to Langstone and then down the Hayling Billy Trail to the Ferry Crossing in the south west corner of Hayling Island.
Our first challenge is to cycle through Emsworth and find the coast path. Alas a wrong turn brings us out on a rather muddy, algae strewn beach. We can see where we need to get to, so I encourage Betty to follow me as I wobble over pebbles and sink in mud, rather than return back along the road. This turns out to be a big mistake as 100 metres of tide water blocks our route. Opprobrium descends upon me as we have to return back along the beach and then the road, before we finally find the town centre. However, my stock rises when I find Betty a public lavatory.
After our much appreciated comfort break we are forced to negotiate the path around Emsworth Mill Pond on foot, since cycling is not permitted. The pond is pleasant enough, but lacks the natural vegetation around its fringes that made Slipper Mill Pond so attractive. Eventually we are able to mount our bikes and make our way along the coast path to the west of Emsworth. It is not clear whether or not cycling is permitted here, but we take the chance, being careful to slow right down past walkers.
I am a little bemused as we pass through some woodland, to find our route barred by a kissing gate. I did check the Solent Way web-site which gave the impression it was open to cyclists, but the kissing gate now suggests otherwise. Wanting to follow the coastline, we elect to see if we can get along the beach, which we have walked before with my brother and sister-in-law. Mostly we are in luck and can cycle over pebbles, mud and sand before coming out at Langstone. By now however, Betty is concerned that her tyres seem a little flat and our progress looks like it could be halted. Fortunately, across Langstone Bridge we discover a petrol station where a £1 blast of air solves her problem. No puncture it seems.
Looking back East across Chichester Harbour to Emsworth
Approaching Langstone by bike at High Tide would not be a good idea.
Hayling Island and the Hayling Billy Cycleway
Lots of traffic seems to be heading to Hayling Island which must be a tourist trap. Fortunately the former Hayling Billy Line is now a cycle way taking us traffic-free the 4 miles or so to the south of the island in about 30 mins. Turning west at the coast we cycle the road to the ferry, which takes cars and foot passengers to Portsmouth/Portsea Island. We will have to decide on the next leg of our coastal tour, perhaps from Havant and then down the East side of Portsea Island before crossing over to Gosport and then towards Southampton. Compared to Thorney Island and other quiet peninsulas visited in the area, Hayling and Portsea Islands have little to offer the seeker of solitude. Still they all have their place and if people do crowd into these honeypots, it leaves the rest of the coast for the less gregarious of us to enjoy at our leisure.
Looking across to Portsea Island and the next leg.
Hayling Houseboats – some float at high tide, others just balance on a wall and hope.
As we return back along the coast road I note some interesting house boats near the ferry – just ordinary boats high up the beach, resting on brick plinths. I wonder if they ever float off from their plinths on a really high tide and how do they get them back on again once the tide has returned?
Time is moving on however, so all we have time for is an ice-cream and a bottle of water, before returning up the Hayling Billy cycle way and back to Langstone. Beyond we discover some nice cycle tracks through southern Havant following the Shipwrights Way. Once at Havant Station we are a little bemused by signs, but work it out, following a new cycle route through Warblington and under the A27, before joining the A259 taking us back to Emsworth. Even the A259 here is acceptable, as it has a decent cycle lane.
After the day’s exertions a meal at my brother’s is most welcome. Ahead of us though lie the burgeoning conurbations of Portsmouth and Southampton, before we can return to the relative peace of The New Forest and the Southwest Peninsula.