The History:
A new site here today. The site began close to an area once inhabited far beyond the Romans, with the notable archaeological remains of an ancient settlement in use into the Middle Ages being uncovered in the 1960s and 1970s. The site became a major landfill for waste from London across the 20th century, with barges drifting around thirty miles down the Thames to deposit the city's junk at the suburban site a comfortable distance away. The barges departed to the site from Walbrook Wharf. Here at the wharf, the cranes would have lifted this rubbish off the barges and deposited it in the artificial hill created by landfill where it remains underground to this day. Whilst the site doesn't have the most attractive past, it is notable in that it was historically one of the primary deposits for all of London's waste. The site began use as a landfill in the 1950s, although was used for sand and gravel extraction since the 1920s. Over its lifetime, around 20 million tonnes of waste was deposited at the site. In 1986, it was decided the tip would gradually be reverted to open land over the next few decades. In the 21st century, the site began to be wound down as a tip and ceased in 2010, being slowly capped with the intention of becoming a nature reserve.
The nature reserve became established in 2012 on one of the first remediated parts of the area, and a visitors centre was even opened by Sir David Attenborough. Whilst the main landfill site is now covered in a less grimy layer of soil which the wharf still seems to be engaged in the unloading of to this day. The wharf is clearly still active, but obviously not as landfill. The barges moored alongside it must be for bringing in the aggregates to cover the former landfill site, as these changed over the course of our recent visits. There are three cranes in total, two older ones and less climbing-friendly (still doable but requiring more bravery for the same if not less impressive reward). The older two could be from the mid-late 20thC, with the one we climbed I'm guessing from the 1980s perhaps. As the wharf and the site was used for a long period of time, I'm guessing these cranes replaced even older ones. The jetty itself could have been older, although the remains of an old wooden jetty were visible around 100m west.
The Explore:
The Prelude:
The story begins many years ago having grown up in the area and gradually explored much of its post-industrial shoreline. On a particular expedition in 2012, we ended up trapseing across the very tip itself trying to follow the seawall between a certain classic and sadly now-gone derelict factory and an impressive Victorian fort. Treading through decomposing crisp packets and a strange grey mulch we named 'ash-mud' with pools of rust, it was a memorable trip. In the distance we saw the huge cranes trawling on the riverside and they looked pretty imposing. Another similar trip in 2013 saw us taking a more chill approach, mooching the factory once again and sitting out on a stranded section of seawall protruding from the flooded coastline to provide nature havens amongst the industrial horizon. This is when the below photo was taken. Pretty much sums up my youth.
Eyeing up the potential - 2013
Around this time, another set of even bigger cranes was being built not far from this spot. Okay, they made our climb look a bit paltry, but take my word for it - we smashed those as well in 2017, although I can't talk about that. Didn't climb them, but may or may not have been within touching distance
that remains one of my greatest exploring achievements. Anyway I digress, the cranes we were eyeing up were still bloody massive, and as the tip's activities began to wind down and started gradually transitioning to a nature reserve, we wondered if they would one day be accessible.
Initial Attempt 1 - Night:
Life went on and I got distracted with exploring other places amongst other things. But in early 2020, @Sprackles mentioned that he'd managed to crack the cranes. Nicely done my man. In June during a rare opportunity to get out between the lockdowns, myself and my friend featuring in the images decided to give them another look. This time the tip was vacant, and after hitting another climb earlier that day we reached the cranes in darkness. We we exhausted and under fed, and whilst buzzing to even make it to the jetty, I only made it half way up the cranes before the jelly legs overcame me. Nonetheless, I was happy to even make it into the site. I'm more of an observer than a hands-on guy with exploring, and getting the opportunity to see and photograph something is more important that climbing all over it. But we were feeling lucky and after taking some long exposures on my Nikon D3100 we headed home and vowed to return.
Initial Attempt 2 & 3 - Day N' Night:
I showed another long-term exploring partner the site a month later on a bright summer's evening, and he didn't fancy the climb so again we only made it so far. But I did have a new mirrorless Z50 and got some great daytime ground-level shots at least. Another visit in November proved a failure as the rain and cold had turned the former tip site and access into something that resembled the Somme. I wasn't going to do a Takeshi's castle and become half-submerged in the slurry before climbing ladders metres in the air, so we decided to leave it for better weather.
The Successful Attempt:
To avoid the pre-mission apprehension, we made a spontaneous decision to try and climb the cranes again in June this year. This time, we didn't overthink and had to meet in the afternoon before it rained. Problem was the nature reserve was still open, and we were probably in prime view of dozens of bird watchers. However, beggars can't be choosers and we decided to counter-snipe by bringing a pair of binoculars ourselves. Upon reaching the perimeter, we looked back at the reserve in the distance and waited till people were clear from the observation platform. Without hesitation, and now happily comfortable with the level of solidity of the steel monster's construction, we began climbing. It was high, but it felt a lot easier than the daunting first time at night almost exactly a year prior. Practise makes perfect, and perhaps the climbing skills had since improved. I led the way straight to the top this time, and once up there it was a great sense of achievement. Persistence pays. Sometimes there's no need to rush the best sites, especially when they're not far down the road. We climbed down onto the length of the crane arm, and despite obviously being designed for walking I still bricked it was going to overbalance at first! One bit we had to swing round outside the railing, only a short way from the very edge, to continue to the crane end. Tip stood out right over the Thames, and on this foggy day the feeling and view was incredible. Yet it was fleeting, as we soon saw a boat moored in the river driving towards us. Was it the coastguard or the cops, who knows. But we didn't chance it and swiftly made our descent. With the mission finally under the belt, we returned to the nature reserve with binoculars in hand anticipating everyone to be waiting for us after having watched us climb. But nobody batted an eyelid - we must've timed our climb well. We were ready to leave victorious until my car decided it wasn't going to start. But who cared, I'd managed my biggest climb to date (I'm learning)
:.
The Thames Estuary is an amazingly atmospheric place, and after growing up with its powerful coastal views of nature vs industry as a constant backdrop to my youth, any opportunity to get up close and personal and immerse myself in the structures which have defined its landscape is one worth remembering.
A new site here today. The site began close to an area once inhabited far beyond the Romans, with the notable archaeological remains of an ancient settlement in use into the Middle Ages being uncovered in the 1960s and 1970s. The site became a major landfill for waste from London across the 20th century, with barges drifting around thirty miles down the Thames to deposit the city's junk at the suburban site a comfortable distance away. The barges departed to the site from Walbrook Wharf. Here at the wharf, the cranes would have lifted this rubbish off the barges and deposited it in the artificial hill created by landfill where it remains underground to this day. Whilst the site doesn't have the most attractive past, it is notable in that it was historically one of the primary deposits for all of London's waste. The site began use as a landfill in the 1950s, although was used for sand and gravel extraction since the 1920s. Over its lifetime, around 20 million tonnes of waste was deposited at the site. In 1986, it was decided the tip would gradually be reverted to open land over the next few decades. In the 21st century, the site began to be wound down as a tip and ceased in 2010, being slowly capped with the intention of becoming a nature reserve.
The nature reserve became established in 2012 on one of the first remediated parts of the area, and a visitors centre was even opened by Sir David Attenborough. Whilst the main landfill site is now covered in a less grimy layer of soil which the wharf still seems to be engaged in the unloading of to this day. The wharf is clearly still active, but obviously not as landfill. The barges moored alongside it must be for bringing in the aggregates to cover the former landfill site, as these changed over the course of our recent visits. There are three cranes in total, two older ones and less climbing-friendly (still doable but requiring more bravery for the same if not less impressive reward). The older two could be from the mid-late 20thC, with the one we climbed I'm guessing from the 1980s perhaps. As the wharf and the site was used for a long period of time, I'm guessing these cranes replaced even older ones. The jetty itself could have been older, although the remains of an old wooden jetty were visible around 100m west.
The Explore:
The Prelude:
The story begins many years ago having grown up in the area and gradually explored much of its post-industrial shoreline. On a particular expedition in 2012, we ended up trapseing across the very tip itself trying to follow the seawall between a certain classic and sadly now-gone derelict factory and an impressive Victorian fort. Treading through decomposing crisp packets and a strange grey mulch we named 'ash-mud' with pools of rust, it was a memorable trip. In the distance we saw the huge cranes trawling on the riverside and they looked pretty imposing. Another similar trip in 2013 saw us taking a more chill approach, mooching the factory once again and sitting out on a stranded section of seawall protruding from the flooded coastline to provide nature havens amongst the industrial horizon. This is when the below photo was taken. Pretty much sums up my youth.
Eyeing up the potential - 2013
Around this time, another set of even bigger cranes was being built not far from this spot. Okay, they made our climb look a bit paltry, but take my word for it - we smashed those as well in 2017, although I can't talk about that. Didn't climb them, but may or may not have been within touching distance
that remains one of my greatest exploring achievements. Anyway I digress, the cranes we were eyeing up were still bloody massive, and as the tip's activities began to wind down and started gradually transitioning to a nature reserve, we wondered if they would one day be accessible.Initial Attempt 1 - Night:
Life went on and I got distracted with exploring other places amongst other things. But in early 2020, @Sprackles mentioned that he'd managed to crack the cranes. Nicely done my man. In June during a rare opportunity to get out between the lockdowns, myself and my friend featuring in the images decided to give them another look. This time the tip was vacant, and after hitting another climb earlier that day we reached the cranes in darkness. We we exhausted and under fed, and whilst buzzing to even make it to the jetty, I only made it half way up the cranes before the jelly legs overcame me. Nonetheless, I was happy to even make it into the site. I'm more of an observer than a hands-on guy with exploring, and getting the opportunity to see and photograph something is more important that climbing all over it. But we were feeling lucky and after taking some long exposures on my Nikon D3100 we headed home and vowed to return.
Initial Attempt 2 & 3 - Day N' Night:
I showed another long-term exploring partner the site a month later on a bright summer's evening, and he didn't fancy the climb so again we only made it so far. But I did have a new mirrorless Z50 and got some great daytime ground-level shots at least. Another visit in November proved a failure as the rain and cold had turned the former tip site and access into something that resembled the Somme. I wasn't going to do a Takeshi's castle and become half-submerged in the slurry before climbing ladders metres in the air, so we decided to leave it for better weather.
The Successful Attempt:
To avoid the pre-mission apprehension, we made a spontaneous decision to try and climb the cranes again in June this year. This time, we didn't overthink and had to meet in the afternoon before it rained. Problem was the nature reserve was still open, and we were probably in prime view of dozens of bird watchers. However, beggars can't be choosers and we decided to counter-snipe by bringing a pair of binoculars ourselves. Upon reaching the perimeter, we looked back at the reserve in the distance and waited till people were clear from the observation platform. Without hesitation, and now happily comfortable with the level of solidity of the steel monster's construction, we began climbing. It was high, but it felt a lot easier than the daunting first time at night almost exactly a year prior. Practise makes perfect, and perhaps the climbing skills had since improved. I led the way straight to the top this time, and once up there it was a great sense of achievement. Persistence pays. Sometimes there's no need to rush the best sites, especially when they're not far down the road. We climbed down onto the length of the crane arm, and despite obviously being designed for walking I still bricked it was going to overbalance at first! One bit we had to swing round outside the railing, only a short way from the very edge, to continue to the crane end. Tip stood out right over the Thames, and on this foggy day the feeling and view was incredible. Yet it was fleeting, as we soon saw a boat moored in the river driving towards us. Was it the coastguard or the cops, who knows. But we didn't chance it and swiftly made our descent. With the mission finally under the belt, we returned to the nature reserve with binoculars in hand anticipating everyone to be waiting for us after having watched us climb. But nobody batted an eyelid - we must've timed our climb well. We were ready to leave victorious until my car decided it wasn't going to start. But who cared, I'd managed my biggest climb to date (I'm learning)
:.The Thames Estuary is an amazingly atmospheric place, and after growing up with its powerful coastal views of nature vs industry as a constant backdrop to my youth, any opportunity to get up close and personal and immerse myself in the structures which have defined its landscape is one worth remembering.
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