Bricking it near the folly on the foreshore at Cubitt Town, Isle of Dogs

After my visit to The London Museum yesterday for the Mudlarking exhibition, I felt the need to be in the quiet open space of a foreshore at the water's edge, simply watching the boats and birds go by. I headed West towards the Blackwall side. 

To get there, I had to navigate the high rise hell of the Canary Wharf zone. I had to remove my baseball cap for fear of it being blown away by the wind whipping through the tall metal structures. I noticed there was not a hat to be seen anywhere except hard ones worn by workmen constructing the next lump. When I reached the Blue Bridge (which is actually grey) I stopped to take in the views West across at the watery expanse of South Dock, and East to The Millennium Dome (for that is/was its name when it was born!)

Just north of this bridge, on the river side at Coldharbour, there is a little enclave of houses evoking a time before the glass towers were built, although The Gun pub, a Grade II listed building, is not quite the working men's boozer that it would have been until the 1970s, but it's still a nice place to stop for a waterside drink. The map shown below is on the wall inside there and I'm showing it alongside a terrace of Victorian buildings that remains just south of the bridge, making a visual contrast between then and now:

The tall buildings replace a group of little streets on the north side of the dock that was previously Fenner Wharf and Pier Head Cottages, interesting because a tall modern neo-Deco building on the river side, at the junction with Stewart Street, is today called Pier Head:

Near here, at Folly Wall is John Outram's superb 1980's Deco Revivalist construction – hard to believe that this delighful concoction is actually the Isle of Dogs Sewage Pumping Station. I love it! An Egyptian temple jumbo jet hangar hybrid! The road name references Thomas Daver's folly, a little faux fort that was built here in the 1760s. 

And so to the foreshore... with easy access via a slipway or steps along the Thames path at Amsterdam Road. 

I really like this beach. I wandered down to the water's edge and spotted a fragment of brick tile that seemed to say BELGIUM. I took a photo. Two metres away I saw a yellow brick stamped with FARNLEY, a Leeds company:  

It reminded me of the many brick makers I spotted on the foreshore at Battersea 11 years ago 

and so I wandered about looking for more...

Oh, almost forgot... this area is called Cubitt Town, named after the man who made it possible, William Cubitt, brother of architects Thomas (Belgravia) and Lewis (KX station).

Mudlarking exhibition at the London Museum, Docklands

Yesterday I went to the press preview of The London Museum's latest exhibition. I had my fingers crossed that it might be as excellent as their show about Fashion in the East End yet I was trepidacious that it could be sending out the wrong message as regards the rules and regs of mudlarking, something that I know about all too well having been the holder of a Port of London foreshore permit for over 17 years when I started making items from clay pipes from fragments that I found on the Thames' beaches (for walking in mud is not my thing!).

Entering the first room of the exhibition, there's some info about who the early mudlarkers were... these were poor people as good as risking their lives in the thick squelchy mud in amongst moored boats, looking for scraps to eat, lumps of coal, or items that had fallen overboard, some of which might very occasionally be worth the time and effort involved.

All well and good so far. But then the focus changes to the 'treasures' that can be found:

The next room, the largest space, is scattered with cabinets arranged around some heaps of stones and trash designed to look like areas of foreshore. 

The display cases are interspersed with artworks made by modern artists, the explanation labels for these being hard to locate. I have since discovered that at least one of these artists does not hold a permit to be able to make and sell artwork from foreshore finds, as I do.   

The collections of finds in this room seem like they were ideas thrown up in one of those Blue Sky meetings, like a box-ticking exercise. I'd expected to see a chronological display of glazed pottery sherds and glass as per these, perhaps some Elizabethan dress pins, rivets, nails, bottles and glass. Instead, they show us phallic items and some of the Doves Press typeface:

There is, however, a cabinet containing some parts of old leather shoes, which reminded me of the haul that I stupidly left behind on Bankside here.

What is seriously lacking is a better explanation, indeed repeat explanations, that mudlarking along the Thames is restricted to those with permits, that you can't just go 'hunting for treasure' without the right accreditation. Instead, against each showcased item, they print the names of the many mudlarkers who found them, highlighting how popular the hobby has already become. 

I chatted to a few people and two individuals told me that they were now inspired to visit the foreshore. This is exactly what I feared the exhibition would promote – made all the more irresponsible because the Port of London Authority has been having a terrible time this past year trying to manage their oversubscription of permits and the many thousands of people already on the waiting list. This exhibition will surely exacerbate the problem further. The museum could have easily put repeat signs around the walls of the exhibition space explaining the restrictions involved in an effort not to make it even worse. Instead, it's 'let's go find some treasure!' 

The next room is all about the mudlarkers of today and how they save and file their collected items in their studios, like mini-museums. I can't help but wonder what on earth are these people do with this stuff – do they have open days, do we get to visit?!  

Within that room, there are items in drawers and cupboards with sticky hinges and flaps that I don't think will last more that a week.

The final room is all about the moon, because the Thames is tidal and, apparently, mudlarks go out treasure hunting at night time, which is something I really don't thing is a safe practice to highlight. The space is mostly filled by yet another one of Luke Jerram's suspended globes. These things are everywhere, like Anthony Gormley statues. I'd hoped that this, being about nature, might include an explanation that another reason for not damaging the foreshore's surfaces is the disruption to wildlife, the tiny flora and fauna that exists in the thin top layer. Nope. 

A few of us agreed that this room and its glowing moon was some kind of afterthought as a space-filler, that they'd run out of ideas – it's a ridiculous end to the exhibition. Concerned that surely I must have missed something important, I went for another lap of all the exhibits to check and was disappointed that I had indeed seen it all. 

It's clear to some of us who visited that The London Museum is here jumping on a 'let's go mudlarking' bandwagon* and focusing on the treasure hunting with what seems like a complete disregard about the ecosystems on our foreshores and the water quality of the Thames – see more at Thames21. There is also scant information about the role of the PLA, the need for permits, and the correct codes of practice, set out within the documentation that accompanies the permits. 

Disappointing on many levels. 

Mudlarking – Secrets of the Thames, until 1st March 2026

...........................

UPDATE, 10am Tuesday 15th April – low tide at Bankside. I counted approx 24 people on the foreshore twixt Blackfriars Bridge and Tate Modern, bending and stooping and putting things into carrier bags. These including families with colourful buckets and spades, the children gleefully digging and holding their finds aloft, in comparison with a couple of individuals who, by their apparel and demeanour, were clearly permit holders wearing thick waterproof boots and carrying trowels in the rubber-gloved hands. 

*as is Southwark Cathedral , The Guildhall and The Waterman's Hall who also host occasional mudlarking events.

Bermondsey Beach – little things mean a lot

I was recently in Bermondsey for a River Thames event and, as mudlarking guide, I was there to share a bit of local history and provide a kind of Show & Tell with the attendees, explaining to them the dos and don'ts of access to the foreshore and what we might hope to find on the surface in this area.

Bottom left: a little bit of broken cardboard that happened to make the shape of J (for Jane)!

As I explained to the group, unless you have, like I do, a permit purchased from the Port Of London Authority which allows you to scratch the surface, you can do little more than walk the dog or enjoy the peaceful atmosphere. You cannot dig. Even if you do have a permit (and the PLA are not allocating any new ones at the moment) you can only disturb the very top couple of inches. But, quite frankly, you don't need to dig as it's simply a matter of getting your eye in and, if all you are picking up are broken bits of shell and pottery sherds, that's fine. But please be selective. Many people take bag loads of found items home with them and then don't know what to do with it all. Hence, it ends up in household rubbish and then in landfill which is a shame. Better for it to stay as part of the River Thames. Therefore, I always encourage people who join me for my foreshore forages to choose just three items to take home with them and leave the rest behind to be covered by the next tide. As with all unusual finds, if you do find something that you think might be an artefact of historical interest, simply contact the lovely people at Portable Antiquities Scheme who will advise you. 

Here are some little gems that picked up at Bermondsey, some of pieces are tiny, less than 1cm across, and we found them simply sat on the higher drier parts of the beach looking carefully around our legs. All the blue and white crockery was in an area less than 2 metres square. It's not that someone dumped it there, it's because the tide dropped it there being as it was all of similar weight. This is evident on curved stretches as the tide copes with different obstacles and the beach changes from a swathe of sand to small shingles, then a heap of bricks and masonry, then a muddy section and back to shingle again. 

The seven fragments top left are single-sided, late Georgian through to twentieth century as are the six little pieces in the top middle pic which are two-sided (the flip side shown top right). And I do love bit of tide-worn glass, or sea glass as some people call it. I don't know what that B stands for (it's probably from a beer bottle) but holding up the fragment to the light made it look like a cola ice lolly, especially against the beach!

I found quite a few bits of intriguing pottery, some glazed on both sides (top left and centre) plus some lovely little pieces of semi-precious stone, marble, flint some of which have holes worn within them or are pleasing shapes shuch as the ling tubular bit of flint and the Shard-shaped triangle which I had meant to hold up against the London skyline to replace the building on the Southbank, but completely forgot to do that!

Bottom left, above, shows a collection of stones with layered rocks and sediments some of which resemble fancy cakes or cuts of meat. As a gauge of size, the largest piece is approx 35mm long. A larger version of the 'roulade' is here to better illustrate the food idea. One of the pieces looks at first like it is glazed, especially as the pattern within the stone resembles a map of Cyprus! And the collection bottom right is simply about colours and textures; a selection of alabaster, coral, brick and stone. I also collected a few fragments of clay pipe (not shown here) which I will soon turn into items of wearable jewellery etc.   

Finally, some Health and Safety advice about accessing the foreshore – despite any historical images you might have seen showing people paddling in the Thames or sitting on deckchairs on its beaches, the Thames is not akin to a day out the seaside. If you do venture down there be sure to wear sensible, preferably waterproof, shoes or boots and access only via staircases that are clearly managed and maintained. However, note that these steps can be very slippery due to algae or silt. And on the foreshore, if a surface looks dodgy or slippery then it probably is; don't stand on it or you might sink into soft ground. Be sure to stay close to the access steps because when the tide starts coming in again it will come in fast and you really don't want to get stranded or swept away in the current. And, if you do want to pick anything up, please remember that the water is not clean; wear gloves, use sanitiser. 

Mudlarking with Thames21 at Broomhouse Dock

In my last post I mentioned I recently visited the foreshore at Broomhouse Dock, right (Google Streeview pic). 

This event was an initiative created by Thames21 with the idea to get people involved with the river and local history. A few months before, I'd lead a similar event for Thames21 and Frames of Mind in North Woolwich, which was delightful success. 

When the date was set for this Hammersmith location as Saturday 16th July, when the tide would be at its lowest between 11.30am and 1pm, we had no idea that it would end up being one of the hottest days on record. And here we were planning to be on the southern-most top of Hammersmith, on a beach, with no form of shade at all apart from the shadow made by The Hulingham Club's thin boat access ramp.

Nevertheless, behatted and fully dressed, with any visible area of skin slathered in factor50, I donned a pair of the provided wellies and some gloves, picked up a bucket and made my way down to the water's edge through what must be the muddiest, slimiest, gloopiest access slope I have ever had to use to get to a foreshore. Some of the Thames21 crew and volunteer helpers were busy doing a litter pic and I was saddened to see the vast amount of nasty wet wipes* they collected that morning. If you'd like to join these clean-ups find out more at Thames21.

The pic below shows the marvellous view across to Wandsworth's recycling plant, but today there is no ferry boat at Broomhouse Dock to take us to the south side as there would have been +200 years ago.

About twelve people of all ages came to join us on the day. We had hoped for more, indeed the cool box was well-stocked with plenty of ice lollies, but the hot weather was aagainst us. Once I'd moved the group to a cleaner part of the foreshore it was lovely to see how interested people were in the whole experience. It's the possiblitly of finding hidden treasure, I think. But it wasn't a good day for finds. We found old bits of metal in the form of nuts, bolts and nails, some small animal bones and some late 1990s electrical components(!) but I didn't see a single piece of broken clay pipe stem or any sherds of pottery worth sharing with the group. However, you could go back to that same location on another day and the shore could be completely different depending on the tide and recent weather conditions. 

As I explained to everyone that day, when not with an organised group like this, in order to go mudlarking on the Thames foreshore, you need a licence, and these can be obtained from the PLA here. But there are restrictions as to what you can do even if you have a permit, such as you cannot start digging holes (you don't need to – just walk slowly and look carefully) and certain sections of foreshore are out of bounds.

In Broomhouse Lane at the corner of Daisy Lane, I noticed that the lovely building there is covered in scaffolding. Argh no, I thought. Oh phew – they are converting it into a care home, see here. 

*People seem to think the word 'disposable' means it will decompose. Realistically, everything is 'disposable' whether it's a car or an apple core. In this instance, 'disposable' tends to intimate that the product is for single use – just use it and throw it away, ta da!  Victorian era magazines were full of ads for disposable items, but the products back then were made of glass, paper and other components that were easy to separate and repurpose. Our plastics, especially since the 1950s, not so. Products such as wet wipes weren't on the shelves a few decades ago yet mothers the world over managed to cope ably. So, if these things are evil waste, literally clogging up the planet, why aren't they simply removed from sale? Why are companies still being allowed to manufacture them? And note, they are packaged within mostly non-recyclable plastic. Don't worry though, the children of the future will fix all this.

On the Foreshore at Limehouse

Earlier this month a few friends joined me for a forage on the foreshore at Limehouse.

The tide was particularly low that day and the sun was shining on us too. Afterwards we went to a nearby pub for food and chats. All-in-all a very nice day out.
If you'd like to come and join me sometime please do get in touch via email (see above).  The next meet up will be the morning of Sunday 10th April.
Please note that I hold an official Port Of London Authority Foreshore Permit – there are restrictions to what you are allowed to do when accessing the Thames beaches.

Beachcombing at Blackfriars

Here are some pics from last October when I met up with a few friends under Blackfriars Bridge for what I call A Forage on the Foreshore.

I particularly liked the time-weathered large wooden stump. I thought finding a beached comb was rather ironic.

As you may be aware, I am always on the lookout for fragments of nicely eroded clay pipe stems for my jewellery – we also picked up various pipe bowls from different periods of history – note the different sizes and shapes in the pic. Malcolm found one with flowers on it – I now wonder if these are roses and it could have been from The Rose Theatre which was nearby...?

Click here for an account of previous gathering.

Cobblers!

I was just about to put a collection of pics together about this past weekend's walk from Greenwich to Wapping when it occurred to me that I still hadn't posted about last month. So here goes...
I went with a couple of friends to the foreshore on the southern side of the river under Blackfriars Bridge and then we wandered along eastwards.  I spotted a strange hardened lump of metal that looked like stone made from petrified eels, and some plastic poking out of the ground such like it seemed as if it was growing there. Also a foot shape ring of tufts which I though odd. There were also the usual bits of old weathered wood, oyster shells with holes in them and, of course, clay pipe fragments.

But it intrigued me how I kept seeing so many bits of leather shoes.
At first, I made a small collection and included a 'pair' of black gloves. But I kept finding more and more pieces of heel and soles, often hobnailed and beautifully handmade. In 30 minutes I managed to collect more than 30 bits so I arranged the best of them on the access steps near Tate Modern for other people to admire. The ages of these items varied a lot. Most were Victorian/Edwardian; others definitely came from the mid-20th century, and some were quite plainly less than 10 years old.
So... why/how have these all ended up here? I have never seen shoes in such profusion on any other sections of Thames' foreshore.
Was this an area particularly affiliated with cobblers?

Battersea Foreshore Forage

Yesterday, a day with the best weather since October, I met up with a few friends for another of my Amelia Parker foreshore forages and this time we walked the strip between Battersea Village and Battersea Bridge.
It was a lovely. As these pics show.

Inspired by a brick with an R on it, I also took photos of things that resembled letters of the alphabet. The M could also be an E, and the Q could be a B. Now all I need to do is create some words out of them... any ideas?

There were also a lot of stones with holes in them, many of which looked like face. Finally, bottom right, eagle-eyed Jenny spied the base of a stoneware pot sticking out of the silt with Battersea stamped into it. She took it home and cleaned it up and it turns out to be a crucible: Find out more here.

Mudlarking along the Thames

One evening last week I joined a group of wellie-clad history geeks and fellow London Historians for a short walk along the Thames at low tide led by a Thames Discovery Programme guide.
As you are probably aware I am a frequent visitor to stretches of the Thames' foreshores but I wanted to learn some more snippets of historical info to pass on to customers who visit my stall and website.
Walking into the sunset from Cannon Street Station to The Millennium Bridge taking care not to trip over the vertical markers placed by proper mudlarkers (these are posts placed into the mud to alert people that there is soft ground caused by their excavations) we learned about what's left of the Walbrook River, Roman settlements, barge loading platforms, slipways, iron pipes and Mother-of-Pearl buttons.

Why not go for a wander there yourself? The Thames foreshores can be accessed at many points by steps and staircases, but please do remember that the tide is not at the same time every day – check the tide tables.
Please note that you can pick up things (except in some restricted areas) but you are not allowed to dig or disturb the surface at all. Only about 50 licensed mudlarkers have permits to do that and even they are limited to a metre's depth.
If you find anything you think is of archaeological interest then you should contact the Museum of London who keep a mapped archive. They have a sort of clinic where you can pop in glean info about your finds.
Finally, if you do go down to the foreshore, be sure to plan your exit route because the tide comes in really fast!

Pipes and books and interesting things

Whilst doing a stall at Old Spitalfields Market a couple of months back a man stopped to chat about my wares and we stood for ages chatting about all things Thames foreshore-y and mudlark-y.
Turns out that John is one of the 50 or so people with an official licence to use a metal detector and do more than pick at the surface (like me). He has found all sorts of interesting things over the years. In addition to this he also provides a service helping people find their lost property for just the price of the reward offered, i.e. no result, no fee. See here for more info.
John also makes and sells an interesting and useful product – he hollows out books to create secret compartments for hiding keys, money, jewellery and the like. Aptly named Hollow Books.
John and I will both be trading at Spitalfields on Saturday 22nd. More info here.

Below are some Thames foreshore images by yours truly: