We broke down – again

What could possibly go wrong this time? We’d been cruising for a few hours and moored up for a late lunch, I’m in the galley and I realise I can smell paint stripper-but I’m chopping garlic, so I’m wondering if my sense of smell is playing up so, I ask Ian. He wanders around, yep he can smell something too… eventually his curiosity gets him hunting under the floor boards of the engine room and he finds it. The fuel pipe has split, and diesel is seeping into the bilge and the smell is only rising up from the hull in the galley.

Ian turns off the feed from the fuel tank and we’re stuck where we are, it’s a Friday night and we’re not sure who to call (Ghostbusters???!!). Ian does his best to mop up the spillage and do a temporary fix on the fuel pipe. As luck would have it, we realise that we’ve moored up on the same stretch of canal that our favourite engineer lives on, so we call Scott! We limp the boat down towards where Scott has his mooring and by Wednesday we’re back in action. This poor boat is showing a bit of wear and tear bless her socks.

After a restock at the local marina and shops we headed on to the docks at Sharpness. As you approach this end of the navigation the views up and down the estuary are fantastic. Here the old sea wall borders the canal towpath, but it’s been many years since the saltwater lapped against its structure as there’s a significant sand bank in the way now. The landscape of the estuary is punctuated with  the tragic remnants of what was once a railway bridge that spanned across it. The round tower that traverses the sea wall used to hold a steam engine for revolving the last span to allow tall ships to pass along the canal, but the foundations of the bridge caissons are now broken stumps, like gigantic stepping stones stretching across the sound.

Built in the late 1870’s the bridge had 21 spans and stretched 1,268m (3/4 mile), joining Sharpness to Lydney and the coal mines of the Forest of Dean. The construction was challenging and the cost of around £225,000, (about £35 million in today’s dosh) put the original company into liquidation.

The bridge had a chequered history up to October 1960 when, minutes after the last passenger train had crossed, in dense fog, two fuel tanker barges, having missed the bells and lights of the Sharpness Lock, were swept out of control by the incoming tide and collided with the bridge. Two spans broke, rupturing a gas main and severing an electrical cable. There was a huge explosion, the spans fell onto the boats igniting the cargo of petrol and oil, killing all but three of the crews and spreading burning fuel across the waters and for a mile upstream. At low tide the remains of the boats can still be seen just upstream from where they hit the bridge. In the following years there was a catalogue of disasters during the efforts to repair the broken spans and three further crews lost their lives during flood tides. Seven years later the decision was made to demolish the entire structure. No one really wanted the job and the first company to attempt it went bankrupt. You’d think it was cursed!

The old Sharpness Dock is now one of the bases for SARA, Severn Area Rescue Association. An independent, marine and land-based, search and rescue organisation covering the Severn Estuary and upper reaches of the River Severn. It’s run by 200 volunteers across its six stations which are all members of the Mountain Rescue England & Wales. Typical callouts usually involve boats or persons in difficulty, but they also help with searches for missing persons, animal rescue and flood relief.

Now when I look along the this picturesque estuary at low tide, soaking up it’s calm serenity and watching the playful swirls of water where the tide and river meet, it’s unsettling to learn of these tragedies. A stark reminder of the colossal unforgiving power of tidal waters.