Chapter V: Acle to Wroxham

[Picture: Decorative drop capital] The wind, on the next morning, was from the north-west, a head wind for us, and there was little of it; so little, indeed, that we could not stem the tide, and had to quant for three miles. Then we came to the mouth of the river Thurne, leading to Hickling Broad, up which we intended to sail on our return from Wroxham. The Bure turns off sharply to the west, and as the wind gradually gained in strength, we were able to dispense with the unwelcome labour of quanting.

The first noteworthy spot that we came to was St. Benet's Abbey, situated on the north bank of the river. Once upon a time it must have been a mighty building, covering much ground, as its scattered ruins testify. Now nought reminds us of its founder, sensible King Canute, but a fine archway, with some contiguous walls, upon which a windmill has been erected, but which is now itself in ruins, and two massive parallel walls, standing about two hundred yards to the eastward; also, there are arched doorways, and strong walls in the house by the riverside, whose cool recesses speak of ancient days. This house was once a public-house; we landed to get a drink of buttermilk, and lay in a store of eggs and butter. We also climbed to the top of the ruined arch, whence a wide prospect is visible, and one may count a goodly number of churches.

Opposite the ruins is a dyke, down which a wherry turned.

"Where does that lead to?" asked Wynne.

"To South Walsham Broad, which is a mile and a half down it; and, although wherries can sail down, this boat, which draws about five feet six inches, cannot. Still, we can go down in the jolly, or, if you like, stay here, and fish for perch. This is a noted spot, because there is a hard gravelly bottom, and, by the way, we might have stopped at Thurne mouth, which is a good place for pike."

"I like exploring these dykes, so I vote we go down to the Broad."

[Picture: Cottage, South Walsham Broad]

So we started, and overtook the wherry, which had been aground, and she gave us a tow down. The Broad, which was formerly one sheet of water, has, by the growth of reeds and plants, been divided into two portions. There was nothing particular to be seen in the first one; but on rowing into the further Broad, we saw a cottage on the right bank, which, with its long, low thatch, deep eaves, its honeysuckles and roses, its trees and its landing-place, formed a most tempting object for a sketch, and one the artist would do well to seek. The Broad is private, save for the navigation across one part of it to South Walsham, and the fishing is preserved. The old course of the river formerly made a horse-shoe bend down towards South Walsham, and the present straight channel by the Abbey ruins is an artificial cut. The site of the Abbey is an island of solid ground in the midst of a great extent of marsh. When we got back to the boat we saw the man fast asleep on the counter, with his rod in the river, in tow of a large perch, weighing one pound and a half, which we secured.

About a mile further, on the right hand, as we ascend the river, is the mouth of the river Ant, leading to Barton Broad and Statham, of which more anon.

"The river is getting uncommonly pretty," said Wynne, "and this slow tacking enables me to see it to advantage, eh! How close we steer to the fishing boats! and, pray tell me, why do fishermen in Norfolk wear such extraordinary hats! Here is another dyke. Can we sail down it?"

"If we only drew four feet of water, we could go on to Ranworth Broad."

"Then, on my next cruise here, I will get a yacht that does not draw more than a wherry does. It is absurd to have such deep draught yachts where there are so many shallows. Let us row down."

Ranworth Broad is a very pretty Broad, but grown up so that it is divided into two. The eastern half is navigable to the village of Ranworth, but otherwise private, as is the other portion of the Broad. This is very strictly preserved, on account of the wild fowl which frequent it. It is a favourite fishing place, although permission has first to be obtained from the owner, who, however, cannot be expected to give leave indiscriminately. It is not worth while seeking to fish in private waters in this district, for other fish than pike, seeing that the free fishing in the rivers is as good as any one could wish for. From the eastern part of the Broad, a very pretty picture, with the church in the background, on a wooded height, is visible.

[Picture: Horning Village]

Then to Horning Ferry, where, as we approached, a horse and cart were being ferried across, and we had to lie to for a few minutes, until the huge raft was safely across, and the chain lowered. The public-house at the ferry is a very comfortable one, with a nice sitting-room and garden in front, and is a capital place to make one's head-quarters. It is about nine miles drive from Norwich, and four from Wroxham railway station. A little further on is Horning village, a picturesque group of houses, straggling along the river bank, with a large windmill on the hill behind, making a good picture. Here our ears were greeted with the song which, for generations past, the small children of the village have chanted to passing yachts--

"Ho! John Barleycorn: Ho! John Barleycorn,
All day long I raise my song
To old John Barleycorn."

That is all. It is simple and effective, and extracts coins from too easily pleased holiday-makers.

[Picture: Ranworth Church]

The river turns to the left, at right angles to its former course, as it passes the village, and on the north bank is a reedy sheet of water, called Hoveton Little Broad, where there is a small colony of the black-headed gulls. On the south side is a small, but pretty Broad, called the Decoy Broad. Then the river turns still more sharply to the left, and we sailed due south, after having come due north by Horning.

"What a number of anglers there are!" said Wynne, "and the singular thing is, that they always seem to be catching fish.--How many have you caught?" he called out to two fishermen in a boat.

"About six stone, sir," was the reply; "but we have been at it since daylight, and they bite very slow."

"I must say I think Norfolk a very favoured county, with all these splendid rivers and free fishing; and one place seems as good as another."

"Yes, as long as you pick deepish water, and get under a lee."

"Do they groundbait the place where they fish?"

"Not before they come, but while fishing they throw in a good deal of meal, mixed with water and clay. If they were to groundbait one or two suitable places on both sides of the river, so as to be sure of getting a lee, for a day or two before they fish, they ought to get even more than they do now. Here is a boat-load trailing for jack. Ask how many they have caught."

Wynne did so, and the reply was, "Fifteen, but all small: they run from two pounds up to seven."

"People here either fish for pike with a live bait or trail with a spoon. You rarely see anybody spinning by casting, or even using a dead bait on a spinning flight. Now, I know that in the hands of one or two people, a paternoster has proved very deadly. With three large minnows on your tackle, and roving about close to the bank, you may get many pike and perch."

"I'll try it in the morning before breakfast," said Wynne.

In another mile the river again turns westward. On the north is a very large Broad, called Hoveton Great Broad, whence comes the clangour of a large colony of black-headed gulls. The Broad is not navigable for anything of greater draught than a small sailing boat; and now all access to it has been barred by chains across the dykes, and it is strictly preserved, chiefly in consequence, it is said, of the disturbance of the gulls by visitors. The gulls flew, screaming, overhead, in a white cloud, so that the air seemed filled with them, and the half-grown young ones floated on the water, as lightly as thistle-down. Although this colony is nothing like so large as the famous one at Scoulton Mere, near Hingham, in Norfolk, yet it is extremely interesting, and particularly when the eggs are being hatched off, and the little fluffy brown balls, which represent the young birds, are running and creeping about the reeds and grasses, and swimming in and out of the water-divided tussocks. Air and water and grasses seem thrilling with abundant life, and the ear is deafened with abundant noise; a noise, however, which, discordant as it is, has for a naturalist the music of the nightingale. The water is very shallow at the east end, where the gulls are, but the soft mud is of an exceeding great depth.

Some years ago the American weed, _Anacharis alsinastrum_, that pest of our inland waters, so completely filled this Broad, that a duck could walk upon the surface. It then suddenly decayed, at the same time poisoning the fish so that they died by thousands. Since this time the Broad has been comparatively free from it.

During Wynne's visit the Broad was still open, and we visited it in the jolly. After rowing about for some time, we turned to go back to the yacht, and Wynne said, "I don't see the sails of the yacht anywhere. Where can she have disappeared to? I know that the river is over there, because there is the sail of a wherry over the reeds, but there is no channel through the reeds, and it is no use your rowing that way. You have lost your way, my boy."

We only laughed at him and rowed on.

"I tell you that there is no way into the river here. Oh, yes, there is; I beg your pardon, but I should have rowed about until doomsday before I found the way off."

"And you couldn't have landed, for I don't think there is a bit of solid ground all round the Broad. But where is the yacht?" For there was no sign of her.

The wide opening on the opposite side of the river suggested that perhaps the man had taken her on to Salhouse Broad. So we rowed on, disturbing a kingfisher, which was perched on a bullrush, and there was a picture. Wynne cried, "OH!" with delight, and, although I have seen the like so many times, the scene is always fresh in its beauty. On the placid bosom of the small lake the yacht lay motionless, while a pair of swans, with their brood of cygnets, swam near her. Outside the ever-present boundary of green reeds, was a darker circle of trees, and crowds of yellow lilies made a bright bit of colour in the foreground. On the further shore was a thatched boat-house, and behind it a wooded bank. The thud of the jolly against the yacht's side aroused a wild duck; a shoal of rudd broke the still surface, as they sprang from a pursuing pike, and the red-and-white cows, which had pushed through the reeds to drink, stood looking at us contemplatively.

We dropped the anchor, and got tea ready, and Wynne worked hard at a water-colour sketch, brush in one hand, bread and butter in the other, palate, plate, and sketch-block mixed up, and the brush going as often into his teacup as into the mug of water.

After tea, we landed, and walked into the long and straggling village of Salhouse, in search of bread and fresh meat, and on our return, climbed to the top of the bank, whence a fair prospect met our eyes. At our feet were Salhouse Broad, and the smaller Broad next to it, which I call Salhouse Little Broad, a lakelet covered with water lilies; outside these, the sinuous river, doubling upon itself, as though loth to leave so pleasant a land; Hoveton Broad to the right, and Wroxham Broad to the left; many white sails flitting about on the latter, and more yachts coming slowly up the river.

There is a navigation across Salhouse Broad to Salhouse Staithe, but the present owner of the Broad discourages sailing upon it, and the reader is advised not to anchor or moor there. The old times when one could come and go upon the Broads as a matter of apparent right are now past.

We went to Girling's farm, close by, to get milk, and eggs, and butter, and I may mention that Mr. Girling has comfortable rooms to let, suitable for a family, whilst the situation is unsurpassed for prettiness.

We quanted off the Broad, and found just sufficient air moving on the river to take us gently on. We had a little surprise in store for Wynne. As we came up to Wroxham Broad, I asked him to reach me something out of the cabin. When he was safe inside, I put the helm up, and we slipped through the 'gatway' into the Broad. When Wynne came out of the cabin, instead of the river banks, he saw the wide-stretching Broad, the Queen of the Broads, for her beauty, size, and depth of water combined.

"This is lovely. I had no idea that we had left the river. What a string of fishing boats! Are they having a match?"

"Yes. Angling matches are very favourite amusements here, and the prizes are sometimes valuable, and sometimes very miscellaneous in their nature. They are very sociable, well-conducted gatherings, and I think the Norfolk anglers would meet with old Izaak's approbation, as being honest and peaceable men."

"They all look very happy. But, tell me, are there always so many yachts here as there are to-day?"

"Not quite. The fact is, there is a regatta of the Norfolk and Suffolk Yacht Club here to-morrow, and it is always a genuine water frolic. This is a favourite place at all times; Wroxham is only seven miles by rail from Norwich, and the Broad is only a mile and a half from Wroxham by water."

We drifted across to the other side of the Broad, and there dropped our anchor, and made all snug.

[Picture: Horning Ferry]

It was a lovely evening, and yacht after yacht came upon the Broad, and anchored; anchoring, by the way, meaning, in the majority of cases, dropping some pigs of ballast overboard, at the end of a rope, for the mud is so soft that an ordinary anchor would drag through it. We visited our friends on various yachts, and then the moon shone so brightly out of a cloudless sky, that, late as it was, we did not turn in for a long time, but floated about in the boat, and yarned about old times, until it was very late indeed.

[Picture: Decorative chapter header]