When the Boat Comes In

The shores of the River Humber are rich in heritage.

It takes, however, an aggressive  high tide, the erosion and collapse of a clay bank or a large scale flood along its course to coax and persuade it to relinquish its treasures.

In a single incident I found this to be true. Following a few weeks of heavy and persistent rainfall over the fifth of England's land mass which is the catchment draining into the Humber I just came across, on the low tide mud a Silver Groat from the reign of Edward III (1327-1377). It is a bit worn from over 600 years submersion but the hammered markings could still be seen. It was as though it had just, that day, fallen from the pocket of a traveller, perhaps attempting a crossing of the estuary from north to south.

On other days, the landfill site just further along from the position of my sole coin haul, stinks and steams and a few more tons of slow decomposing domestic waste finds it way, eventually out to the North Sea. It is destined to build up the Dogger Bank or give the Dutch sea defences a few more years respite from a surprise but nevertheless welcome deposit.

Sometimes it is a body that washes up from an accidental arthritic tumble somewhere upstream or a determined but desparate leap from the public path on the Humber Bridge.

Disorientated by a strong current, or in pursuit of a food source, a porpoise or small whale can become beached on the large sand flats between the deep water shipping channels. This is often indicated by a frantic feeding of gulls.

A few years ago an RAF Tornado Jet crashed into the river and I watched, over a few days, the efforts of a barge crew and heavy duty crane to recover the tangled fuselage and what was left of the swept back wings.

After a storm there can be seen huge tree trunks which have become uprooted from woodland flanking the feeder watercourses or timber baulks from redundant jetty's and wharfs upstream which have worked loose. These dense tar pitch infused hardwood columns drift lazily just flush to the surface like prehistoric river monsters. Pity the jet ski or yacht that encounters the gnarled shakes and angle irons of the latter breed. They will have their guts and innards wrenched out with no warning.

I admit that I have never seen any fish being caught and lifted from the water but then again they will find it difficult to detect anything in the way of bait in the dark brown flow unless it slaps them in the gills.

In 1937 two brothers from North Ferriby, a growing commuter village, which has a river frontage saw some shaped wooden beams protruding from the estuary mudbanks. These excited their curiosity being a bit too regular and purposeful than just flotsam and jetsam. They investigated and the mud gave forth the first of three wooden boats which later carbon dating techniques showed to be almost 4000 years old.

The boats represented a level of knowledge and technology not previously known for the Bronze Age. Other boats from the period were on a grand scale but were typically oversized oak logs, hacked clear of their heartwood and crudely fashioned in a trench form to take about eight rowers. Such craft, capable of relatively high speeds under manpower and payload were the equivalent of a square wheel to the North Ferriby discoveries.

Construction was in planking sewn together with withies made from Yew and with gaps caulked with moss and oak laths. The shape of the boat was streamlined and with a defined bow to cut through the estuary waters, propelled by 18 paddlers.

This heavy duty vessel will have been capable of carrying substantial cargoes such as grain, wood and iron ore. Most significantly was the suitability and robust nature which made an ocean crossing a distinct possibility. The Ferriby boats are considered to be the pre-eminent seafaring craft of the pre-historic age with speculation amongst academics of wide ranging travel and trading for what was for a long time perceived as a basic and rather inward looking civilisation and period.

The dimensions of the boats have been marked out in a commemorative site on the Humber Foreshore where the discoveries were made. I have stood in the stern of the flat representation and its scale is astounding. The boats were around 43 feet long, broad and shallow in draught but stable and manoeuvrable.

Such is the importance of the boats in history that they now reside at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, London.

In 2012 a replica of the sewn plank boat was made and launched in Cornwall, a full size version using the ancient techniques, and it was through this that the full impact for the period was realised.

I can easily envisage a crew from what is now modern Kingston Upon Hull setting out, 4000 years ago in the Ferriby Boat, intending to have a good rough and tough session of rowing but ending up crossing many daunting oceans and claiming most of the known world as their own. The nearest competition from the log boat men was, of  course, nothing to worry about. They were just up the creek possibly without a paddle.