THE WYRE ESTUARY

 

DECEMBER DAWN over THE WYRE ESTUARY at Ramper Pot

 

I should explain that this entry is one I have re-published.  For some reason the photographs became lost from the original blog and to respond to numerous emails I thought would be as well to republish…so here you are.

I started my diary by describing a place that I have come to know well over the past 40 years, why now well it is likely that my visits here will now be very infrequent. Let me explain that until December last year my Mother in Law lived in this location so it was natural that this became something of a second home to us. So where is this place? It is the Wyre Estuary and now that I have told you I suspect that many of you will still be none the wiser, so let me tell you where it is and I guess a map will help.

 

            

               

 

Morecambe Bay is well known, it is a haven for wildfowl and the surrounds equally full of wildlife both flora and fauna. It is an enormous expanse that alternates between water and sand banks, twice each day the waters speed in over the sands and then drop back. The bay is surrounded by some of the most fantastic scenery in England, to the north the Cumbrian Fells of Lakeland dominated. Towards the east Ingleborough and the Yorkshire Howgills link to the Lancashire Pennines and Bowland Fells which slope down to the Fylde Marshes. On a good day to the east can be seen the Isle of Man and if you are standing in the right place Snowdonia can be glimpsed to the south. The hills add their fare share of water to the bay. The rivers Lune and Kent and Lakeland hills are the most famous contributors. But one river is rarely if ever heard of or mentioned…..and that is the Wyre.  The Wyre starts its life not too many miles away on the wild Bowland Fells, it is not for much of its course anything but a mild river gently flowing through the Forest of Bowland down to the lower pastures that surround Garstang and then even more gently down via St. Michaels and across the Fylde. Near to Singleton the forces of the tidal flow help swell and cut the much broader channel that eventually bursts upon Morecambe Bay at Fleetwood.

SKIPPOOL CREEK

 

It is these lower reaches that made the Wyre an important navigable river of some commercial importance, but that is some time ago long before Fleetwood even came into existence. Paulton which is now a landlocked village on the outskirts of Blackpool once conducted a profitable seaport courtesy of the Wyre and the evocatively named Skippool Creek was the link between port and Wyre.

WARDLEYS CREEK

A little further downstream is Wardleys Creek. It is still there as small boat yard and moorings but it was from here, several centuries ago, that sailing boats headed west to the Americas carrying not just cargoes of hard goods but people seeking new lives across the Atlantic. Wardleys is still a small community hardly any bigger then in those far off days. There is still a pub and lodgings to be had, but I suspect in the days gone by that it was the farm that offered travellers these last vestiges of hospitality and comfort prior to their departure. Basic, as it was, I suspect that travellers from across the wet and boggy Pilling Moss were only too glad to find sanctuary and bolster their spirits before their transatlantic voyages.The Wyre is wide at this point and access to Wardleys from the south could be made via a ferry from the very grandly named Cockle Hall. It was in fact a small farmstead set in a Damson orchard whose tenant was both ferryman, Cockle gatherer and of course farmer. You can still find traces of the building if you search hard, though the Damson trees have fared much better and it is now a picnic site for walkers on the Wyre Way.

 

I should of course make mention of Fleetwood, whilst it is now a shadow of the town it was in the 19th and for most of the 20th centuries it is still very much a major centre of the habitation on the Wyre to-day, it is a port and ferry terminal. The Fishing fleets have long gone but Irish ferries still ply a busy trade. However whilst most of us now associate Fleetwood as a onetime busy fishing port it is another industry that ensured the founding of the town. Salt is the commodity that built Fleetwood, the sea was an obvious cargo route but soon a rail link was established.

 

The Salt Marshes at Stannah

Beneath the salt marshes that are the Fylde, Brine pits were discovered, mainly on the north side the river, and Salt mines suddenly created an industry for this rather bleak farm land that had fought many struggles against the wet and peat marsh. Chemical works and settling lagoons were established on the southerly side and Fleetwood flourished. The newly created rail link also provide impetus for fishing fleets to use the new port with it fast transport link for its perishable catches. This is of course a very truncated history but I do hope it serves to illustrate just how important and busy this now rather quiet backwater once was.

There are plenty of full and much more learned accounts of the Fylde and Fleetwood if you wish to find out more and should you visit Fleetwood (which you should) there is an excellent Museum overlooking the Docks. I cannot provide a web link as their site is being developed but follow this link for more information
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fleetwood

 

Wyre Morning Feast

 

But back to the Wyre and today. The mud flats as the tide goes out become covered with waders and wildfowl. Turnstones, Redshank, Knot, Dunlin, Shelduck and Lapwing are the largest flocks, but Oyster Catchers and Curlew are also there in some numbers. It is of course the call of the Curlew that is so evocative of the marsh, comforting yet edgy. Away from the river the marshes are still providing a home for flocks of Gold Crests, the Sea Asters and grasses providing a good source of seeds which I expect will soon be exhausted, and then the flocks will move on. This winter 3 Reed Buntings are over wintering in the reed beds and three bright white Little Egrets seem very much at home. Starlings flock in good numbers but not providing the aerobatic displays that they have become so famous for elsewhere, perhaps one day. There are a few groves of trees and in these at dusk Tawny Owls can be heard calling prior to their nightly hunt across the marshes. Overhead skeins of Geese, Graylag, Pink Foot, and Brent, on their morning patrol noisily battling what is still a high wind. The Geese stick mainly to grazing the salt marshes for their feeding but do venture onto the mud flats for what I presume is a change to their diets.
The storms and in particular the heavy rains in the hills change the course of the river over the weeks. At Ramper Pot where the river is at one of its widest sweeps the channel had been sweeping around the large bend (or bay), now the power of the flood waters has cut a straight channel in its drive for escape into Morecambe Bay. Large trees and other debris being deposited along the marsh. Within a few days I reckon a high spring tide will create a fresh course back towards the hills. Then snow will come and go from the Bowland Fells and once again the force of the flooded river will cut yet another fresh course for its travels.

I love all the marshes but my favourite spot is the old moorings at Skippool. Jetties ‘on stilts’ stand tall above the muddy edge of the river and high above the marsh. Because of the tidal flow and very changeable channels not many modern vessels make it this far upstream these days, there owners obviously exercising caution. Most of the jetties have their own little huts and workshops on them, a proper little shanty town often beaten by wind and heavy rain. I also suspect the one or two boatman live here in their solitude.

 

There are many old wooden hulks of old boats, some of the wooden fishing trawlers, long abandoned, all now in one stage or other of renovation. Though I reckon a few of the aspiring builders have found the process of restoration too challenging. None the less it is great exploring this stretch, marking the progress (or lack of it) of the construction efforts and every so often you come a beautiful wooden yacht lovingly maintained and obviously enjoyed. Even so, I have a feeling the many of the boat owners actually only come to Skippool for the apparent solitude of their work rooms perched high above the waters of the Wyre………and who can blame them the views are terrific.

 

 

As for sunrise or sunset , well Morecambe Bay is notably famous for its spectacular evening delights. Summer or winter the views across the bay really are amassing, reds, oranges and broad spectrum of  pinks vie for your attention and delight……a site not to be missed and one that will always be remembered.

Morecambe Bay at Sunset