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River Ouse Bargeman

Page 10

by Lewis, David;


  If the trick failed, and you were caught on a sandbank, problems of time and safety arose. Firstly, if the tide was ebbing and there was no longer sufficient depth for the barge to float, there was a wait of several hours for the next flood tide to increase the river’s depth. That would put your payday off by perhaps another day. More worrying was the possibility of the barge breaking her back. As the barge settled on the mud and sand, the riverbed may have been uneven. Perhaps the fore and aft parts were still in water and had their weight taken by the water whilst the middle of the barge resting on the river bed had no such support. This differential support given to the cargo meant that the effect of its weight could then crack open the hull, losing both the cargo and the barge itself.

  ‘As this area is very low lying and close to a lot of water, it can be very murky. We didn’t have radar in those days, just the skipper with his compass, the mate on the forecastle as lookout and a foghorn or buzzer. One foggy night, we’d just passed Walker Dykes and were looking for Apex Light, where the Ouse and Trent meet. This light is situated in the middle of the river. I gave a blast on the buzzer when suddenly an empty Harker’s tanker barge loomed up ahead, coming straight for us. Now we couldn’t stop. The barges had no power, the tide was taking us upstream at seven knots, and we were going faster than that because you have to have speed over the water to be able to navigate. To change course would put us across the course of the tanker, which would be a bad idea! So, all we could do was to keep going and hope for the best. We hit him, putting a big dent in his bows and he did the same for us. Both ships carried on and disappeared from each other’s view into the fog. There was nothing else to do – you couldn’t turn round! Luckily we both managed to get to port to show off our wounds. Ah well, never a dull moment!

  Collision damage to the port bow of Selby Linda. (Laurie Dews)

  ‘Now, past Whitton Ness railway station.’

  This was a lonely terminus of a branch of the North Lindsey Light Railway, from Scunthorpe. It opened in 1910, to connect with a packet boat sailing between Gainsborough and Hull operating three days per week. It was never very well patronised, and passenger traffic ended in 1925 with total closure in 1951.

  ‘Next up is Apex Light at Trent Falls where the rivers Trent and Ouse diverge. Keep the Apex Light on your port side if you are travelling up the Ouse. The river currents and swell become much reduced after Apex.’

  Thousands of tons of stone were tipped here in the 1930s to form so-called Training Walls to reduce the effect of the aegir or river wave. It is alleged that a gamekeeper shot by a bargeman was also dumped here. The body was never found, but the man who shot him did go to prison. The light has since been removed to safe storage at the Yorkshire Waterways Museum in Goole. Passing Apex means that a vessel has now entered the Ouse

  Map of the river journey from Barton to Goole. (Alice Prince)

  ‘We head up the River Ouse across the river to Blacktoft, passing Blacktoft jetty on our starboard side.

  ‘We used to say, “Where there’s a jetty, there’s a pub”, and at Blacktoft the Hope and Anchor was a handy place to wait in whilst the tide turned. We spent many happy hours there. The jetty had a foghorn which everyone knew as the 'Blacktoft Bull'. You could hear it for miles around when they sounded it in the mist and fog.’

  Apex Light at the Yorkshire Waterways Museum, 2016. (Author)

  Stone training walls surround the Apex light at the confluence of the rivers Trent and Ouse. (Laurie Dews)

  Blacktoft Jetty was a safe refuge for craft in foggy conditions or when water was shallow. Originally built as a timber structure in 1884, it was replaced by the more modern facility in 1967 as shown here. (Yorkshire Waterways Museum)

  The Hope and Anchor, Blacktoft, 2010. (Author)

  Another tale tells of how a more famous visitor came to the jetty in 1963. The story goes that infamous Russian spy Kim Philby was whisked away from this isolated spot by a Russian cargo ship, directly to Moscow. Unfortunately, the truth is rather more mundane; Comrade P was indeed removed to the USSR by ship, but the ship departed from Beirut.

  ‘Whitgift village is next, on the port or Lincolnshire side. Here the clock on the church has a famous “High Noon”; instead of having “XII” it has “X111” at the top of its clock face.

  ‘Now we navigate Pile Rack, and across to the Squire of Saltmarshe’s estate, passing Reedness on our port side.’

  Around Swinefleet and Orchard Light a tragic accident occurred on 18 January 1961 when BOCM’s tug OCO left Hull in the early hours towing three barges loaded with seed for the mill, but was run down by the coaster Henfield, rolled over and sank.

  ‘When OCO started rolling over, mate Fred Nelson was thrown overboard – and he couldn’t swim. On a dark wintry night, and wearing a topcoat, there was little chance of survival. Mate Stodge on one of the towed barges threw a rope out. The rope had an “eye” or hoop in it - and as luck would have it, the eye landed over Fred’s head and he was able to grab hold of the rope and be pulled in.

  ‘Fireman Spike Wadsworth was in the stokehole hatchway and was straight into the river. He managed to swim against a strong tide and make it to the shore. Trouble was the shore was lined with greasy stones and the tide kept trying to pull him off. Spike was shouting “Help!” at the top of his voice, more in desperation than hope, but it turned out he’d come ashore at the foot of someone’s garden. The chap in the house and his wife were having an early breakfast at six o’clock when they heard Spike’s cries, wandered down to the bottom of the garden, dragged him in, dried him down and gave him a warm breakfast. Spike made a point of going back every year to thank the couple who had saved his life.’

  Sadly, the other two members of the crew, skipper Jack Sumpter and Engineer Harry Jackson, weren’t so lucky, and their bodies were found together at Blacktoft Jetty some time later.

  ‘After Swinefleet we sweep round a right hand bend to come into Goole Rack. Goole Church and Water Tower come into view. We pass Ocean Lock on our port side, also Victoria Pier and Victoria Lock, then we pass Shuffleton with all the small cob boats and house boats moored along the river bank. We sometimes called this area Sleepy Hollow.’

  Extract from Selby Times, January 1961, describing the sinking of the tug OCO. (Author)

  This was where Sam had been thrown ashore as a babe all those years ago. An aerial image from the 1950s, showing Robie hauling four BOCM barges past Goole docks illustrates how a well-regulated convoy would appear at this stage of the journey.

  Robie pulling 4 BOCM in formation past Goole, mid 1950s. (Yorkshire Waterways Museum)

  Map of the river journey from Goole to Selby. (Alice Prince)

  ‘Next was Sandall. Here, before the Second World War, sand sloops would grab sand from the river bed, and when full, sail back down to Hull. When the tugs were running, they sometimes took a tow with them. It was said that Charlie Richardson and his brother would sail out of Hull on a Monday morning, and return to Hull on the Saturday. The rumour was that once they’d had a wash on Monday morning, they didn’t wash again until safely back in Hull at the end of the week.

  At Sandall, Robie starts blowing on the buzzer, one long blast and six short, to ask for Goole Railway Bridge to be swung open. We called it Hook Bridge.’

  It was always tricky coming up to Hook Bridge. It followed a bend in a river and you could also be confused between the red lights of the cars on the road, or the red light of the signal on the bridge telling you if the bridge was going to open for you or not. These days you’d just radio ahead and if the bridgeman informs you that you have to wait for a train to cross, you’d just cut back on the throttle. Back in the dumb barge days life wasn’t so simple.

  Steam locomotive crossing Hook Bridge, as seen from a barge. (Yorkshire Waterways Museum)

  ‘When you’re coming up round the bend to Hook Bridge at seven knots on a spring tide with four barges on and each carrying over 200 tons you blow for the bridge and hope it’ll swing for
you. But if the bridgeman puts up a red flag you can’t just stop. You’ve got to turn the barges around and hold them against the tide. Then watch out for a green flag to tell you the bridge is being swung and turn ‘em again. Then you’ve got to get speed up because the barges have to be going faster than the tide to get their tillers to work. You’ve got to be able to steer the barge or you could get smashed against the breakwaters on the bridge pillars. You have to watch out when the tug turns your barge around ‘cos the tiller will swing like mad and it’s got enough behind it to knock a man clean over the side of the barge.’

  Steering through Hook Railway Bridge was tricky and dangerous especially if it was a Spring tide, because the tide would set vessels down onto the east abutment. Many times have barges been swept down onto that abutment. This is not the last time on the journey that bargemen have to be aware of the way that a current caused by a bridge support causes problems to keeping a barge on course. The effect is dealt with in detail in the section concerning the passage of the bridges in Selby.

  ‘After passing safely through the bridge, the village of Skelton is on the starboard side and Howden Dyke with its fertilizers factory and Scarr’s Shipyard which had a slipway for pulling barges up for repair.’

  Scarr’s shipyard was begun in 1902 and was at its busiest just after the First World War. The firm built some of BOCMs dumb barges before closure came, after many takeovers, in 1994.

  ‘On our port side are Hook petrol jetty where Goole’s petrol barges discharged into the large Cleveland storage tanks. Cooks and Harkers of Knottingley used to trade here too. Next is Howden Dyke Island in the middle of the river.’

  The effects of shallows and summer and winter currents were well known here.

  The City of York Engineer, Mr A. Creer produced this map for a report to the Navigation Committee in 1906. Along with the map, Mr Creer described the problems with navigation channels most eloquently:

  Chart of river flow around Howdendyke, 1906. (Author)

  ‘When the river is in its good state, as it should be in March and April a very large volume of tidal water enters the river between Selby and Naburn. This volume, along with river water, is sufficient to sweep back into the lower reaches (of the Ouse) and into the Humber a large volume of warp (silt) brought up by the flood (tide). However, gradually the volume of water assisting the ebb in its beneficent work is reduced owing to the absence of rain.

  ‘When this stage is reached the evil results soon become apparent. The warp brought up by each flood deposits its quota on the river bed. Although not perceptible at first this gradual accretion raises the bed, reducing the space available for flood waters and rendering the river less able to clear itself. This deterioration continues until a heavy flood (tide) enables the upland portion of the river to regain its ascendency and sweep back the deposited accumulations. In the Ouse not only do we have a river with a distinct summer and winter condition, but also with summer and winter channels.’

  ‘If the water had flowed high enough, we would pass the Island on our port side, meaning a shorter trip, but seeing there wasn’t enough water “over the middle”, we had to go round the island leaving it on our starboard side, passing the Hospital Bight, so-called as there was a hospital just over the bank.’

  Whilst the situation may seem clear on a map, in the featureless flat landscape around the Humber, it could be very difficult to decide which channel to follow.

  ‘This area was also popular with duck shooters and sometimes seals could be seen basking on the sands. Next came Westfield stone heap which had a red light on it, and Westfield Hospital and across a stretch of the river we call Clot Hall. This was a very shallow part of the river. In summertime there could be as little as two to three feet of water in the river here at low tide.’

  This is where the M62 now crosses the Ouse. Begun in 1973 it opened in 1976 to complete the main 109-mile length of the M62. To starboard were many wrecks of old wooden keels and sloops which have come to grief and have been pulled up on the bank to rot, and in so doing reinforce the bank against erosion.

  Selby Michael towing Selby Cygnus towards Hull, near Clot Hall, 1976. The craft have just gone under the M62 bridge, and Boothferry Bridge is in the background. (Laurie Dews)

  A more modern view of the M62 bridge and navigation light. (Author)

  ‘One of the barges belonged to my grandfather, Bill. This was the final resting place of the Sam. She had been crushed at Goole jetty in the incident that nearly killed the family. Bill had just bought her and he hadn’t got her fully insured and so he lost everything.

  ‘Next, blow for Boothferry Bridge, one long blast and six short blasts again. There’s no bother with this bridge, they swing it almost straightaway. After passing safely under the bridge we pass the ferry houses on the starboard side.

  ‘The ferry was something like a pontoon pulled across with ropes or chains.’

  The ferry, like all of them in this part of the river, belonged to the Archbishop of Durham. It was replaced by the bridge in 1929.

  ‘We now pass Boothferry Trees on our port side and when Everard’s oil tankers came down the river from Selby loaded with oil, and the water had ebbed away too low, they used to stop against the river bank at Boothferry Trees because it was a deep water riding berth. This meant the ship would stay afloat throughout the ebb tide. Originally ships had to moor to one of the trees with a rope, so the man whose land the trees were on said that Mr Everard who owned the ships had to buy one.

  ‘Next on our journey we pass the mouth of the River Aire which goes to Leeds and on our starboard side is Asselby Island which used to be an island until the 1940s but is now joined to the mainland.’

  Tug and barges passing through Boothferry Bridge. (Susan Butler/Howdenshire History)

  Asselby Island also once had channels whose course varied with the seasons, as at Howdendyke and Read’s Island. Mr Greer was equally scathing about the warp here. By Laurie’s time the narrower one had completely silted up.

  ‘We come round a sweeping left hand bend and we are now into Rusholme Rack which ends when we come to a sharp right hand bend called Burr Wheel.’

  The ferry at Booth. (Susan Butler/ Howdenshire History)

  Rusholme was recorded as a farmhouse in 1822. It now enjoys views of a wind farm and cooling towers.

  ‘Directly in front of us now is Barmby Railway Bridge, another one long blast and six short on the tug’s buzzer and the bridge again swings for us to pass through.’

  Barmby Bridge was also known as the Long Drax swing bridge. It was built in the 1880s for the Hull and Barnsley Railway. The H&BR was formed relatively late for a railway company, and its raison d’être was effectively to speed coal to the coast and supply raw materials to south Yorkshire. As such it struck a fairly direct line between Hull and Barnsley, but because other railway companies had already taken the most advantageous routes, the H&BR were forced into building a bridge across the Ouse around twice as lengthy as the North Eastern Railway’s one (built 1840, replaced 1891) at Selby. Both bridges were elegant swing bridges with a metal bowstring lattice structure and a high central cabin giving clear views of river and rail traffic. At Barmby, the span was 400ft, giving two opening spans of around 100ft. The H&BR was not economically successful, and the line closed in 1968, but the bridge was not dismantled at once. For over sixty years, there had been many plans for a road bypass for Selby, and one idea was to use this rail bridge, suitably altered as a road bridge for a Selby bypass. This plan came to naught, and the graceful structure was dismantled in late 1976.

  By the time Barmby was reached, the river was much narrower than it was at Goole, but a 100ft opening span remained sufficient to allow the squadron of four barges to pass.

  The former Hull & Barnsley Railway Bridge at Barmby. (Susan Butler/Howdenshire History)

  ‘We pass Barmby village on our starboard side and Long Drax on our port side. The voyage continues until we come to another sharp bend, Low Hoop, and
into Summercroft Reach. On our port side is a farm that used to belong to a Quaker family and the family graves and some grave stones are in the garden. Others have been moved to rest behind the old Quaker Meeting House off Gowthorpe in Selby.’

  Quaker memorial from Summercroft, now in Selby. (Author)

  Drax Priory was founded by William Paynel in the 1130s, during the reign of Selby-born Henry I. Four hundred years and seven Henrys later, the Priory was closed during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. The Priory buildings became a farm and a meeting place for the Society of Friends (Quakers). The remaining religious buildings were demolished in 1953. In the early 1970s, some gravestones were relocated to a site behind Selby’s main street, Gowthorpe, and the area has been dedicated to the people of the town by the Society of Friends.

  The site in Drax remains a Scheduled Ancient Monument. Summercroft is a nearby isolated farm house.

  ‘The next sharp turn is known as Top Hoop and now we are into Barlow Rack, and at the other end of Barlow Rack is Brown Cow which got its name from a little pub that used to be there, but it is now a private house and brewery. People say that wherever there was a staithe or landing, there’ll be a pub, so maybe there was a jetty to go with the pub here.’

  Buildings on Drax Abbey site, 1930s.

  Barlow had a brief connection with a more exotic form of transport, the airship. For around a dozen years between 1915 and 1930, Barlow had an outstation of the airship construction works at nearby Howden. The airship R33 was built there by Armstrong Whitworth, the famous Newcastle-based heavy engineering company in 1919.

 

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