Chapter XIV: From Somerleyton to Beccles

[Picture: Decorative drop capital] The angling in all this part of the Waveney is extremely good, and the bream and roach are of large size. It is not nearly so much frequented as the other rivers or the upper part of the Waveney, and is practically unfished, on account of the difficulty in obtaining boats, there being no boating-station nearer than Oulton Broad, five miles away. Still, it is worth while rowing from Oulton Broad, half way to Somerleyton, for the takes of bream there lately have been wonderful, both as to size and number. The river is broad and deep, and one part is as good as another, provided that you select a sufficient depth of water.

We had no time to fish, and as a matter of fact I cannot stay to fish, if there is a good breeze blowing; sailing first, fishing after!

We lay to at the mouth of Oulton dyke, to get our lunch, which we had put off rather too long. The dyke is nearly as broad as the river, and a mile and a half long, leading to Oulton Broad, which we intended to visit, after going up the Waveney to Beccles. At the junction of the dyke with the river there is an excellent fishing spot, with a great depth of water. While we lay there, a large two-masted vessel, a brigantine of 100 tons, came along the dyke at a good pace, with topsails only set, and looked as if she were going to scoop all the water out of the river with her great bluff bows. Her crew were pointing out to us, as we lay on the Waveney, and presently the hail came across the narrow neck of marsh, "Do we turn up past you to go to Beccles?"

"Yes, sharp to port; right around!"

The topsails came down, and the mainsail went up with great celerity, and with the aid of her aft canvas, and the helm hard over, she came round the acute angle of the sharp bend with creditable quickness, looking a veritable Goliath on those comparatively narrow waters. As she was now head to wind, down came her canvas, and half-a-dozen men went ashore with a long line to tow, and tow they did all the way to Beccles, 13 miles, by which time they must have had enough of it. She was in sight all day over the marsh.

After lunch, we sailed up the Waveney, having to tack a good portion of the way; but the river is so tortuous that some of the reaches can be sailed whichever way the wind is, without tacking.

"How remarkably clear the water is!" remarked Wynne.

"Yes, those weeds you see are 14 feet at least below us, and the river is deep close up to the banks. It is a very pleasant river to sail upon."

"And what a lot of small fish there are!"

"Yes. The Waveney ought to be the best bottom-fishing river in England, it is so deep, clear, and sweet, but the poachers used to harry it dreadfully, with their long, small-meshed nets, and it was even _trawled_ up by smacks, to get bait for sea-fishing, but the Norfolk and Suffolk Fisheries Act has stopped all that, or nearly all, and the river is rapidly recovering itself. There are some very large perch in it, and wherever you see the bank gravelly and free from reeds, the bottom will be hard too, and a haunt of perch. Look at those bulrushes."

"What huge ones, and what a quantity of them!"

"Yes, the marshmen sometimes dry the heads, and rub them up to stuff pillows and cushions with."

On the north bank is the church of Burgh St. Peter, the tower of which is built in gradually-lessening steps, and presents a very strange, un-English appearance.

The sail up to Beccles is a very pleasant one, and pretty bits continually present themselves. Two miles below Beccles there is a swing railway bridge, which is tolerably easy to get through, as there is not a great rush of tide through it, as under the bridges lower down.

Beccles church had been a prominent object all the way, and when we arrived at Sayer's Grove, so prettily sylvan a place that we decided to stay there the night, we went in the useful jolly another mile to Beccles bridge, 23 miles from Yarmouth, until lately a narrow arched stone structure, but now replaced by a wider and more convenient bridge. Passing through, we skirted the town of Beccles, until we came below the church, a sight no one should miss who is in the neighbourhood. Viewed from the river, it stands on the brow of a hill, in a commanding position. Landing, we climbed up a series of steps and reached the churchyard, whence a splendid view westward is obtained, the river winding in and out through the green marshes towards Bungay. The south doorway of the church is richly ornamented, but the peculiar feature of the church is that the tower, a very high and massive structure, is separate from it.

Beccles is a quiet, old-fashioned place, with good railway accommodation, as a glance at the map will show. It is a cheap place to live in, as there are no heavy rates, these being defrayed by the letting of valuable marshes belonging to the town. It is a healthy little place, and pretty withal, and would, I think, be a capital place for retired persons with small incomes to settle in.

The river is navigable for wherries and small yachts, for about ten miles further up to Bungay, but the navigation is rather troublesome, and there are two or three locks to be passed through.

It is worth while to row up the river a few miles to Shipmeadow lock. The river all the way is very pretty, with crystal clear water, and the lock itself is quaint and old-fashioned.

[Picture: River Waveney]

After laying in some stores we returned to the yacht, and spent a peaceful evening in the shadow of the wooded hill, beneath which we were moored.

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