THE sky is banded in bold strata of many hues. Beneath a blood-orange sunrise, the otherworldly madness of a curlew cry is all I have for company as my little boat slips silently into the mirrored estuary. The tide —visible via the urgent riffles that swell and spin past—is reaching its spring zenith, a barely credible 13ft, all told. I’m sliding gently across the saltwater, up only one inlet of the myriad forgotten creeks surrounding Norfolk’s fabled and crustacean-laden, saltmarsh-ringed coastline.
A boat without an engine, sailing on the timeless power of wind and tide, is an ancient thrill and a silent one. Today’s crew —skipper Henry Chamberlain, Royal Marine comrades Ian Finch and Charlie Hodson, science writer Zoe Dunford and surfer and designer Colin Herbert Powell—is chipper, delighted to be out here at 5.30 am on a chill and mesmeric morn after promised 40mph winds faded away with the blackness of night. I’ve left the comfort of 18th-century Barn Drift, with its insulated warmth and sneak peek of white-horse waves through the pines, for a day on the saltmarsh and mudflats with the Coastal Exploration Company (CEC).
It’s a recently founded Norfolk company with vintage values. With three unique and refurbished antique wooden fishing boats— today’s is a 1950s crabber—the company leads mystery tours, family excursions, smuggling adventures, and more in and around Wells-next-the-Sea.
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning
