75 Yacht masts on the estuary at Wrabness (part 1)

Full Episode description

We stopped to step over a large brown caterpillar mid-way across the rough brambled footpath. All around us light breezes were sweeping through the high grasses, nettles and reeds. Miles and miles, of wide open estuary land. Then in the distance, amongst the just audible drones of lone cars on winding country roads, we heard the plaintive drooping call of a curlew. The water was close. The map showed we’d converge, ahead about a quarter of a mile.

Soft sand blending to mud then water. Gently swirling waves. High tide but on the turn. Pleasantly susurrating woodland and little wooden houses on stilts, some storing beached boats beneath. At the high water mark a gnarled weather-worn tree stands with a panoramic view of the estuary. It leans out precariously, towards the lapping waves, but is sturdy as rock. A good place for the microphones. We leave to brew tea and cook beans for the kids.

Yacht masts ring like lonely bells in the light wind. Two walkers stop to pick something up from the muddy sand. Perhaps an oyster shell, there are lots here. Boats squeak and bump reassuringly against their moorings. Two men bob about, fasten ropes, secure decks. Timelessly absorbed in the act of preparing to sail. Everything’s settled, between gently lifting banks of estuary wind. From nowhere a blackbird begins to sing. The tide’s very gradually going out. The clouds part and a wood pigeon welcomes the arrival of some hot uninterrupted afternoon sun.

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