Creek walk

I’ve been meaning to get my wellingtons on and have a wander down the creek; a low tide mid-morning on May Bank Holiday Monday presents an opportunity. The “wader invaders” we have visiting us on low tide walks from the Creekside centre come with long sticks to steady themselves, so I arm myself with a mop handle and slide down the side of the boat. The stick is useful not just for steadying but for judging the depth of the mud and the water. Step by step I make my way to the water’s edge and then ford the stream - the name Deptford was formerly Depeford – “deep ford”.  On the other side, standing under the DLR, I look back at the boats from a new vantage point – my efforts last week to clean ours did not extend below the gunnels, and the lower front and sides are as mucky as before, and so they will remain.

This opposite side of the river is much less muddy – rocks, pebbles, driftwood and detritus. I look across at the old Evelyn Wharf, now art studios, the wharf wall itself is imposing and impressive. In times past these were busy docks and a place of constant activity.

After a while you get to realise it is easier to walk in the shallow flow of water; it’s more consistently firm underfoot, less slippery.

Going round the bend to the right is a cluster of boats which are only accessible on foot or by boat along the creek itself.  In front of these boats, in the tranquil morning sunshine, sits one of the swans, enthroned upon its nest raft, ingeniously built by one of the boat residents.  I keep a respectful distance as I walk past. I’m hoping one of the people who live here might appear to say hi to, but there is no-one about.

I cross back over the stream as the river bends to the left. The Halfpenny Hatch lifting railway bridge is ahead. The other swan is taking a nap by the water’s edge. It rouses itself indifferently as I go past, and then snuggles its head back into its wing. Evidently the swans’ nest is not made for sharing. Or perhaps this swan is stealing a nap while on guard duty?

Next to the Hatch on the left is a pathway which leads up to the Creekside Centre through green vegetation and wild flowers.

 I sit down for a while and watch people coming and going over the bridge.

I venture under the Hatch; the water is deeper through the narrowed channel, and it is tricky walking through the mud and litter on the sides. I turn over a few bits of wood, looking for crabs; I only find a dead one. Beyond the Hatch, a couple more boats are on the east side, including the old minesweeper, home to the Minesweeper arts project. The Laban Dance Centre is on the other side.

On the way back, I stop and sit on a stump along the wharf wall where last year I saw a kingfisher catch a stickleback. The water is clear enough but there are no fish to be seen. I give myself 10 minutes to spot one. Nothing.  Kingfishers must be patient creatures. Or maybe not, maybe that’s why I haven’t seen one here in a while.