30 Islands: Island #1 - Isle of Sheppey

Sunday 10^th February 2013

This wasn’t the lengthiest of visits, in fact at 32 minutes it could be the shortest amount of time I spend on an island. Therefore I won’t claim to be doing the Isle of Sheppey justice, but I’ll tell you what I saw.

The Isle of Sheppey is at the mouth of the Thames Estuary and also is to one side of the River Medway as it flows into the Thames, the Isle of Grain being on the Northern side. It has a fairly rectangular appearance, albeit slightly rounded, and is 36 square miles in area. Predomiantly flat, it is believed the name Sheppey comes from the Anglo Saxon term Scaepige, meaning Sheep, a description than remains precise today.

Sheppey has a rich history, evidence has been found of a Bronze Age foundary, and the Saxons established a Monastery prior to AD675 which became home to the Queen of Kent. Later several Danish landings began here, including in 1004, King Sweyn of Denmark, whose son was the more famous King Canute of England. He spent much of his time at Shurland fortress on the Island.

Later, the Isle of Sheppey holds the infamous privilege of being the only part of inshore Britain to be successfully invaded, after the Dutch occupied the island in 1667 and had the Dutch flag raised above the courthouse at Queen borough.

In more recent times, shipyards dominated the Isle, until the Royal Navy closed its dockyards in 1960. The Sheerness steel mill opened in 1972 and employed many hundreds of people, but has struggled more recently and is currently closed, with hopes receding for a takeover and subsequent reopening.

It’s hard to avoid the feeling you haven’t reached an island if you don’t arrive by boat, or perhaps plane. It is easy to believe that some kind of removal from the mainland is required, to achieve the sense of isolation we often believe an island should give. The dictionary definition does not require this, so I am going to try and look beyond this and treat each place on its own merits.

On this occasion I was arriving by train, and by my estimations there’s only Anglesey & Holy Island where I’m also likely to arrive by train, so this is in fact England’s only mainland to island passenger railway link.

The short journey on what is one of the South East’s few remaining branch lines starts at Sittingbourne, and soon peels off the Medway line to the right. This is a triangular junction but only a few peak trains take the direct route to/from the London direction, the rest shuttling back and forth, usually in the hands of a 2 car Class 466 unit, today being no exception. The Sunday service is hourly but Mondays to Saturdays it is half hourly. The hourly service gave rise to an awkward decision on arrival at Sheerness-on-Sea, whether to spend 15 minutes or 1 hour 15 in Sheppey’s largest town. I left that decision until my arrival.

The train was quiet, with 20 or so aboard. Average temperatures on the Isle of Sheppey must be quite high for I overheard three separate conversations relating to how cold it was. I’d say the temperature was about 5 degrees but the locals seemed convinced that the second Ice Age was forthcoming. Maybe this was wishful thinking seeing as any rise in sea level could see them underwater. I can already see me getting sick of standard British weather conversations. Another woman talked about her dog and how it had been to see a dog psychologist to try and shed its fear of other small dogs.

First stop was Kemsley, still on the mainland, where the miniscule electronic screens display the departures for both platforms rather than just the one they were stood one. A man ran onto the other platform before realising the train wasn’t going his way, we stuttered away as the train appeared to struggle to pick up power, whining, groaning, stuttering, but we eventually got going.

The dual carriageway joined us on the left, empty like the train and we hit the open landscape, flat green and grey. It was a bleak, typical winters day, the sky covered in a wet undercoat of battleship grey and the train windows streaked with raindrops as we went on.

Ahead was the flat expanse of the Isle of Sheppey, with a slight wooded rise to our right, the view was punctured by pylons and occasional scrubland, as well as some waterlogged patches. The dual carriageway began to rise onto the new bridge. A more featureless bridge you are unlikely to find, as if a 5 year old was ask to draw Daddy a big bridge, it simply rises to a great height on massive concrete stilts and falls away again. No girders, no cables, nothing. A triumph of function over form, but anything more majestic would surely be out of place.

The old road then drew alongside as we pulled into Swale station, a single platform as the two tracks have now become one. In terms of railway isolation, you may have heard of the usual suspects; Dovey Junction, Berney Arms, Rannoch Moor, in this travelogue age these places have become destinations in themselves. Not so Swale. What purpose this platform serves is not apparent, it stands guarding the river but now guarded by the behemoth bridge above, with not a sign of any life anywhere near, not even a sheep. The stop here is deeply mysterious, who would get on or off here? A walker who has taken a wrong turning perhaps. Request stops were invented for locations such as this.

Almost immediately on departure we glide over the Kingsferry bridge, which has parallel road and rail sections. The centre section rises vertically between two N shaped towers on each side, each of predictably, concrete construction. The bridge dates from 1960 and still rises to a height of 37m several times per day, though the road traffic must be minimal since the adjacent monster opened in 2006. Wikipedia appears confused on the history of the bridge but it is clear there have been several bridges on the site since the first railway bridge was built in 1860. It presents rather a brutal entrance to the island, but certainly holds more charm than the adjacent road bridge. These bridges are the only link to the mainland. To the unaware though, this could just be a river crossing at around 70m wide.

Onto the island itself, we scuttle onwards over the featureless flat lads which are first dominated by sheep and then by a pick up truck holding area. To the left, the north, the open view towards the Thames Estuary provides a bit more light, highlighting more pylons and dockland warehouses in the distance. An estate of 70’s council houses presented itself on the right, but no signs of life were seen through the drizzle. Some railway sidings drifted off to the left, disused but still visible through the undergrowth. We smoothly stopped at Queenborough the large station building still stands, cream coloured but would be better in brick, use unclear. Two of the arctic monkeys who were complaining about the cold braved the icy wilderness. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the left hand platform at Sheerness-on-Sea. I walked to the end of the platform and made my way out through the functional booking room.

The main road crossed in front, splitting in two to the right, one branch down the narrow High Street, which contained many shops, but being Sunday lunchtime, was deserted. A strip of land straight ahead led to the seafront, so with limited time I made my way over the road and onto the path. To my left were two ubiquitous British sights, which I wasn’t expecting too much of on my travels, a McDonalds and a Tesco. Having said that, it was a novelty to see them so close to a town centre rather than in some soulless retail farm on a ring road. To the right of the seabound path was a large play area, embedded deliberately in sand, but deserted on a miserable day like today. Then further to the left, was the more grown up, and indoor version, containing amusments, ten pin bowling, and Tantra nightclub. Bizzarely it was pumping out some Coldplay, which was at odds with the flashing hyperactivity of the machines inside, but apt in the greyness outside as I approached the sea wall.

It truly was a full palette of grey that unfolded before me, the wide expanse of the Thames estuary just about fronted by a thin fringe of pebbled beach. To my left a man kicked the stones with no real effort, as the water lapped at his feet. I looked for the dog he was walking, but couldn’t see one. The thin line on the Horizon to the left was Essex, but it was a long way away, several ships appeared not to move between here and there, I figured that Turner must have had a vivid imagination. This was not clearly an island coastline, it was very much a mainland coastline, with cycle signs and dog bins, concerete galore.

Time was pressing, and I had to make a decision to stay for another hour or not, so I decided to take a peek down the High Street, to see if this would be a worthwhile thing to do. As I retraced my steps, I noticed the signposts appeared in French, German and Dutch, as well as English. A hopeful gesture, I felt. I don’t think the Dutch will be repeating their invasion any time soon, even on the Tourist front.

The High Street didn’t offer much to the casual visitor, at this end at least, a couple of Charity shops, a newsagent, several takeways, and a pub that I couldn’t tell whether it was open or not. I tend not to trust pubs that have flourcescent starred card signs in any case. Further down the High Street contained your national stores, banks, chemists, phone shops that could be on any High Street in Britain.

I looked up where the nearest Good Beer Guide pub was, and it was in the Blue Town. Sheerness has three parts, the Marine Town, the Mile Town and the Blue Town, the OIdest, being at the tip of the island pointing into the Thames. However, the thought of a mile walk to sit alone in a pub didn’t entice, and I decided to make my way back to station. As I did so, I passed a second hand electronics shop, and was amazed to see a first Generation Mega Drive holding fort in the window. Must have antique value now.

As I arrived back at the Station, I took a look at the community Noticeboard, which advertised Guided tours of the Island. Unfortunately they were only on the 2^nd Saturday of every month. However, noticing they started at the Blue Town Heritage centre, I quickly googled to see if I had found something to keep me occupied for a little longer and perhaps justify that pint. Alas it is only open Tuesdays to Saturdays, which left me persuaded the best thing to do was to get the imminent train back to Sittingbourne.

As we moved back towards the Kingsferry bridge, I felt that there was certainly more the Island to see, but the train journey and short walk certainly gave me a good impression, this is an island that is really just an extension of the mainland, but is certainly intrinsically linked with the sea, and perhaps the island should trade on some of its historic elements more, as nearby Chatham has done successfully. Certainly being flat and near to the sea, it could prove decent walking and cycling territory, but visually the landward parts are marred by industry so there is little to entice people over the bridge at present. An interesting start to my travels nonetheless, something I think will be a lot different from the forthcoming visits.