Ebb & Flow

In a somewhat belated effort by our government to control the spread of the deadly virus Covid-19, our world changed overnight. ‘Lockdown’, ‘social distancing’, and ‘super-spreader’ entered the everyday lexicon. Advertisements warning that we were in a state of “National Emergency” now flooded the media. Movements were restricted to essentials: among them we were allowed to exercise once a day in a local area or park as long as the newly-introduced two-metre rule of separation was respected.

We were lucky. Close by are the lovely Victoria Tower Gardens, next to the Palace of Westminster by the Thames. Open to all, they were particularly appreciated at this time by the many residents here without gardens. My husband and I have walked there every morning since lockdown and here are some of pictures to illustrate our section of the river during that time and what, if anything was happening there.

The first thing we noticed was the absence of traffic noise, usually busy rumbling over Lambeth and Westminster Bridges, and along Millbank behind us. No planes overhead either. The relief of a silence in which we could hear the rustling of leaves, the occasional splash of water along the shore, and much birdsong: tuneful blackbirds taking us back to childhood country summers, blue tits hidden among the shrubberies, raucous crows and intermittent high-pitched squeaks from green parakeets.

‘Social distancing’ was the key message. Group gatherings were not allowed and everyone had to stay at least two metres apart to cut down the risk of infection. Another sign read: “If you do not adhere to these guidelines, we will have no choice but to close the parks.” These rules were quite closely, but not aggressively, policed in Victoria Tower Gardens as there were security considerations due to their proximity to Parliament. The rules were followed and the park remained open.

The Thames Marine Services’ static refuelling barge, there to provide fuel and lubricants, was bereft of clients, as it floated in the newly imposed stillness.

From the first lockdown days, our hour-long visits seemed to coincide with one of the Metropolitan Marine Policing Unit patrols, and often one of the London Port Authority vessels, overseeing the safety of the river. Both performing vital services, they could be seen as usual from the very beginning of the restrictions.

Our walks often coincided with the Cory, tugs too, as they were either towing barges of bright yellow empty containers upstream to collect waste from their depots, or towing loaded containers downstream to their ‘Energy from Waste’ facility at Belvedere. The collection of domestic rubbish, an essential service for the health of our city, continued as usual from Westminster and elsewhere, and its transportation along the river was kept going as before.

There seemed to be more wildlife than usual. Cormorants were robustly defending their Palace of Westminster markers as they have been doing for a long while but there were more geese and ducks on the foreshore.

Towards the middle of April, nearly a month into lockdown, there were more signs of boat life on the river. Boats dealing with river safety and obstacle clearance, or maintenance of building works further upstream, began to appear.

These images are simple snapshots of the activity seen during our *permitted* hour-long visits to Victoria Tower Gardens. Depending on the tides and the time of day, there were of course other essential movements on the river. Yet while we were there resting beneath the plane trees, for the most part there was an overriding sense of calm serving as a counterbalance to the frightening daily statistics of new infections and deaths from the Coronavirus pandemic that was sweeping the country. We were not alone in being grateful that Victoria Tower Gardens, a very special park, was carefully maintained and kept open throughout.

***********************
Further information:
Many others have documented their impressions of lockdown including:
Photographer Bill Green who has a special portfolio on: “Locked Down London”.
Photographer Andrew Wilson in an article for Time & Leisure Weekend explores the effect of lockdown on nature in the London area of Barnes.

These last few weeks of a restrictive but necessary lockdown have had their difficulties, hardships, uncertainties, and raw grief but for me there has been one consolation, a respite from all this: the river Thames. Though I have been limited to one part of the embankment in central London for my own walks, thanks to the lovely pictures posted by friends and followers on Twitter, I’ve been able to voyage virtually along the length of the river from Richmond to Tower Bridge and beyond. Now these friends have kindly allowed me to share the journey with you.

Astrid Tontson is a gifted, sensitive photographer with a talent for capturing the beauty of nature around her. You can follow her on Instagram and watch her wonderful, calming Soul Food videos, particularly in Bushy Park, and you can follow her on Twitter: @Astrid_Tontson

Based in Twickenham, Ruth Wadey is an artist and photographer whose BBC Weather Watcher photographs often feature on their weather bulletins. She has a particular affinity with clouds “loves capturing the moment on camera” and posts stunning pictures of her stretch of the Thames. You can follow her on Twitter @ruths_gallery

An American living in London, Kristi Tange, a keen photographer, has particularly enjoyed recording scenes and nature around the Thames in the Hammersmith and Barnes areas during lockdown. She has, as have others, captured images of our sunny and dry spring. You can follow her on Twitter @KristiTange

All river traffic came to a standstill on March 23rd, 2020, save for regular Port of London and Police patrols, RNLI rescues, and the daily removal of London’s waste by the Cory tugs.

Based in London Mark Roche specialises in landscape and street photography. Having a passion “for capturing images that excite and draw you in”, he enjoys sharing his ideas and collaborating with others. You can follow him on Twitter @Markroche114

Longtime resident of Rotherhithe Jan Perkins, remarked on the deserted riverside as she walked towards Tower Bridge: “Sad times, as this would have packed with all sorts right now.” You can follow her on Twitter @jan1959john

Simon Cardy is a meteorologist based in Wapping, specialising in weather impacts for the Energy Industry. He loves London and takes striking pictures of the river Thames and London’s skyline. You can follow him on Twitter @weather_king

Overall winner of The Thames Lens photography competition in 2018, Bill Green has been inspired for over twenty years by the river and the distinctive architecture through which it ebbs and flows. Explore his website Bill Green Photography and follow him on Twitter @ThamesPhoto

Wal Daly-Smith is an aspiring Waterman and commercial skipper, passionate about the Thames, its vessels, bridges and history. When he can, he takes action pictures from the river giving you a real feeling of what it’s like to be working on the water. See some of his views of the Thames in “From the River”.

From the Isle of Dogs, Michelle Buchan has stunning views over the Thames, London, and big, open skies further to the west. You can often see her images of striking sunsets on Twitter @M_Buchan

At first almost imperceptible, now gaining momentum, life is returning to the river albeit slowly. Back in May, tugs began towing or pushing barges for work on London’s Tideway super sewer, and on Monday, June 15, the Thames Clippers will take to the river again. But for the strictest weeks of lockdown only a few vital movements took place. Cory tugs removed London’s waste from their riverside depots, Port of London vessels watched over their tidal reaches, and the Metropolitan River Police launches patrolled their beat. On standby, ready to respond to any emergencies, were the London Fire Brigade Fire Rescue boats and the RNLI lifeboats at Gravesend, Tower, Chiswick and Teddington. All these were visible to many from their locked-down houses, apartments or permitted riverside walks but unseen by most, was the vital work carried out by the Port of London Authority, keeping our City supplied throughout the crisis. We owe them all thanks.

Over the past weeks of lockdown, I have had the chance to discover more about Eric Carpenter’s wide-ranging work along the Thames. It seemed from our initial meeting and following email exchanges that he held his time with Cory in particular affection. From 1984 until his retirement in 2008 Eric was employed by Cory Waste Management based at Charlton.

He joined the tug RECRUIT and clearly bonded with the crew “who were all principled men, who pulled their weight and could be relied upon.” One day he was asked by “a good friend to join a crew on another tug, the GENERAL VII, based at Gravesend” but he was happy where he was, sailing upstream through the bridges to the London wharves every shift.” He remembers the tragic sinking of the GENERAL VII a while later, after a collision with a ship adjacent to Tilbury Dock Lock, with the loss of the lives of his friend Colin Baker, and three other members of the crew. Those who work on the river have to be constantly aware of the dangers and safety is of prime importance.

Eric describes life and camaraderie on board the RECRUIT. “Summertime was pleasant towing up through the bridges, returning down with the bridges illuminated on a summer’s night. But, as any Waterman will tell you, it is totally different in the winter months, coping with the wind and the rain, dropping light barges and picking up the loaded ones is not a bundle of laughs.” However, smiling, he continues, “The highlight of the shift was lunch, or as we called it dinner. It could be two chickens (rooster boosted), roast potatoes – my speciality, par boiled and given a good shaking to rough up the outsides, making them crunchy when cooked – or a leg of lamb, a piece of beef and all the trimmings. Nothing got thrown away. We had our mishaps though: the chicken falling out of the oven when the tug nudged the barges; the day we tried to make Yorkshire pudding and it turned out like an inch thick rubber mat. One day the designated cook for that shift wanted to add a sprinkling of pepper to the mashed potatoes but the top came off the pepper pot and everything went into the mash. But it was all eaten anyway.” Fellow crew members at that time were: Jackie Franklin, Gerry Musset, Tommy Lewthwaite and Eric Everest. They trusted and relied on each other and became good friends.

From 1992 to 2008 Eric transferred from the RECRUIT to become a ‘Mucking Boatswain’. All the barges loaded at London’s refuse stations headed to Mucking jetty, where there was a major landfill site, now transformed into the Thurrock Thameside Nature Park. Eric explains that “the site was equipped with three container cranes that unloaded the containers to be taken to the landfill site, emptied and returned to the barges. As the jetty received all the barges from London it was imperative that there was twenty-four hour cover.” Operating there wasn’t simple as “the exposed position of the wharf in the Thames estuary, made it vulnerable to delays caused by bad weather, specifically fog and wind. If the tug missed the daytime tide it would have to bring the barges ashore on the next high tide.”

And the tides were a further complication as the location of Mucking jetty meant that the barges were only afloat for roughly four hours. “This made the shifting of the craft quite hectic, also there was not much run in the tide, so the wind direction was more of a consideration.”

Eric’s responsibilities as a boatswain, along with two others of equal rank, were to “do a safety check of the jetty, checking lifebuoys, the ‘eyes’ of the mooring ropes, safety railings, the capstan ropes, and the access ladders to the barges.” They had to liaise with the tug captains via V.H.F. radio, the operations manager at head office and the jetty manager, in order to arrange and assemble the tows, which could vary in the number and size of barges from one tide to another. But it was not without difficulty. “It was fairly straightforward in the summer months when it was daylight and the weather was calm, not so easy at 2.00 am in the winter with the wind blowing from the east at force 5 !”

Eric describes his last working day, “It was a normal shift. I remember the tug pulling the tow off for the last time and feeling nostalgic. As we were finishing mooring up, I noticed the tug coming back ashore ‘light boat’, that is not towing. As they approached the jetty I saw that the whole crew were on deck: they had come to say their final farewells and to wish me luck. Gary Anness, the captain, then presented me with a bottle of something special!” Eric adds that he was “fortunate to work with two fine tug captains during my time at Mucking, Tim Keetch and Gary Anness, honourable men who could be relied upon.” He also remembers with affection Tom Huggins, Mike Trowbridge, Bill Cook and ‘Buzz’ Bullock, colleagues who became friends.

The Thames is certainly part of Eric’s DNA. His father was a “Journeyman” Lighterman, who as his son was to do, worked all along the river and, as a young teenager, Eric used to bike down to the Woolwich ferry with friends and ride back and forth across the river because it was free. He enjoyed his career on the Thames but doesn’t over romanticise it. Things could be physically and mentally tough and he was always aware of, and concerned about, the need for safety. Working on the river can be dangerous.

He ends his reminiscences by saying that “Although August 24, 2008 was my last day working as a Waterman and Lighterman, I shall be a Waterman and Lighterman till I die.” The love he had, and still has for his profession is clearly expressed when he adds: “I was fortunate to work on the river when I did. I worked from Isleworth in the west to Holehaven Creek in the east, and along every creek and canal adjoining the river Thames. I did not simply work on the river for fifty years, I had an adventure on the river for fifty years!” It was an ‘adventure’ that brought him much satisfaction and sense of fulfilment. He ends by saying: “I would urge any young person to embrace the job and, when they are going ‘up through’ and see office workers scurrying across the bridges to ‘push their pens, or tap their keyboards’ in some confined or crowded office, they should thank their lucky stars it is not them.”

END NOTE
With grateful thanks to Eric Carpenter for sharing his photos and for sparing me the time to tell his story and something of his expert knowledge of our constant, yet ever-changing river Thames.
Click here to discover more about the history of Thames Watermen and Lightermen

Working for fifty years on and around the Thames, Eric Carpenter has a map of the river, its tributaries and canals indelibly etched into his brain. I’m lucky to meet him in St. Katharine Docks a couple of weeks before *lockdown* as not only has he told me something of his life on, and love for, the river Thames, he has kindly helped me with my recent articles on the 1907 book The Thames from Chelsea to the Nore.

He has a jumper with a distinctive badge: the coat of arms of the Company of Watermen and Lightermen and explains, “Only Freemen of the Company are allowed to wear their badge, so I had to prove that I was a Freeman before being allowed to buy it.”

Eric went through a rigorous seven-year period of training on the Thames to become a Freeman of the Company. He was apprenticed at Waterman’s Hall in August, 1958. He was just fifteen years old. His father, William Carpenter, an experienced Waterman and Lighterman was his “Master” and as such it was his responsibility to help his son find employment and to make sure that he learnt his trade. Eric’s first job was on the tug SIR JOHN, owned by Humphrey and Grey Lighterage Co. He worked under Captain Jess Handley. “I started my career as ‘the boy of the boat’ or the dogsbody. My duties were keeping the cabins clean, washing up after other members of the crew, polishing the brass lamps and helping the mate on deck.”

The SIR JOHN was based at Battlebridge Roads, roughly where H.M.S. BELFAST is now moored, and among the myriad sounds and smells, Eric can particularly remember “the strong smell of smoked bacon coming from the Danish ships in the Upper Pool.”

There were so many new experiences and so much that he had to learn that it’s impossible to do justice to them here. However, Eric tells me two things that illustrate the practical experience and depth of knowledge of the Thames required to gain his licence. Firstly, part of his “time at H & G was spent in the Rope store”, an area at Hay’s wharf where ropes were cut at various lengths for use on the craft. Apprentices were taught how to splice ropes, some nine inches in circumference, also, to splice wire hawsers which were a bit more tricky!”

Secondly, he tells me about ‘driving’ or rowing a boat under oars – adding that another name for an oar is a ‘sweep’. “It was not obligatory for an apprentice to undertake a ‘drive’ but it was looked upon favourably by the examining court at the time of your two year licence appearance.” It was also a good way to learn to understand the river and its characteristics.

“Undertaking a ‘drive’ taught you so much regarding tide sets, where the tide ran fastest, where the ‘slack’ tide was, and how to take account of the wind factor.” This was important because “the wind would have a greater affect on an empty barge than a loaded one. Also, it taught you how to look ahead to plan where to position the barge. Rowing a barge or being in control of a vessel is like a game of chess, you have to plan ahead to position the vessel before you actually get to any situation, whether it’s passing through a bridge or rounding head onto the tide.”

‘Calling a drive’ means talking through the complexities and details of a particular drive to the examining committee, a bit like ‘The Knowledge’, the rigorous exam taken by London black cab taxi drivers. “It was handy to have several drives under your belt.”

In 1959 on the advice of his father, he moved to work for General Lighterage as they took all kinds of cargo the length and breadth of the river Thames and its tributaries. He gives an idea of the enormous variety and scope of their work: “We took grain and general cargo to Dartford Creek; timber, and would you believe it barges full of asbestos, to Barking Creek; copper bars for onward travel to Brimsdown rolling mills; bags of coffee to be taken up to Ware in Hertfordshire; zinc to the Hackney Lesney factory, makers of Matchbox toys; plywood; timber and coal all to Bow Creek adjoining the river Lea.” Some of the cargo passed through Thames lock to access the Grand Union Canal, including “bags of beans for the Heinz factory at Uxbridge, and I remember barges with slabs of marble being pulled up the canal by tractors”. He adds, “With regard to the river Lea, at 6 a.m. from Monday to Saturday at Bromley locks you would have five or six dock tugs towing four to six barges each, setting off for various wharves along the river.” Dock tugs were small tugs that could work within the docks or along the canals. Tugs often have quite punchy names. He remembered: Express, Energetic, Jamar, Valcary and Ensign.

“After two years afloat I went back to Waterman’s Hall to be questioned on my knowledge of the river, in order to gain my two years’ licence”. He was faced with questions by the Court, a wall of examiners sitting round a horseshoe table. A daunting experience but he passed. This meant that he was licenced to “have and take sole charge of any Boat, Barge, or any other vessel, used in conveying Persons or Passengers, Goods, Wares or Merchandise on all parts of the River Thames, between the landward limit of the Port of London and Lower Hope Point, near Gravesend…” However, he still would be under the control of his Master at all times, who would judge in every case whether he was competent to take on a particular task. And there was a warning that the licence would be “liable to be revoked, suspended or cancelled at any time for misconduct or incompetency”. Happily this was not a problem for Eric and at the end of his apprenticeship five years later he had to appear before the Court once more with evidence of his experience afloat and to answer questions on navigation. After passing this final test, he became a Freeman of The Company of Watermen and Lightermen.

He remembers “feeling like Superman after gaining his licence. “You could now take barges anywhere, tow to Brentford, undock out of Limehouse cut…” and he recalls, aged eighteen, “towing up to Nine Elms cold store in the middle of the night, with a barge full of cartons of butter, climbing over the locked-up wharf gates, walking over Vauxhall Bridge to Victoria to catch the night bus home. He adds that he liked his work. “I really enjoyed being out on the barges, there was more freedom in the open air.”

Eric’s career continued in much this way for his company, which had since become the Thames and General lighterage Co., until 1971, when with the advent of containerisation and changes in transportation and working practices, he transferred to Tilbury Dock where he worked for twelve years supervising the loading of the company’s barges. Work was tough and he has a wealth of stories to tell. On one occasion, “In 1975 Thames and General won a contract to transport refuse from London Wharves to a landfill site up Holehaven Creek, near Canvey island, Essex. I can remember waiting at Egypt bay on the Kent side of the river for the tide to rise on a pitch black winter’s night, and wallowing across the river, the tugs decks under water, the six barges bouncing up and down and having to watch out for inbound ships.”

Eric’s final job was with Cory Waste Management now Cory Riverside Energy, whose tugs with their barges of bright yellow containers you will probably have seen if you have ever been on a Thameside walk in central London, and you can follow his story on this site in Part 2, The Cory Years... from May 31st.