After having undertaken many canoe trips on the tidal Severn, I felt that the time had come to try something a little different on this river and I thought it would be interesting to see just how much use of the tidal flow we could make. The thought of a long trip on one incoming tide soon materialised and after mentioning the idea to Ian (one of the few people I know who will agree to such antics) a plan was hatched. We would paddle from Beachley (my favourite launch site) and aim to ride the tide to Gloucester Docks. I had already paddled with Lydney yacht Club from Lydney harbour to Gloucester, but this time we would need to travel 36 miles in one direction before the tide reversed it’s flow. Not only that, but we decided to paddle back down river on the return flow to Framilode, which would add at least another 10 and a half miles.

As we were now into October it became apparent that we would need to launch in the dark if we were to stand any chance of arriving at Gloucester. The thought of paddling away from under the Severn Bridge in the dark was on the one hand exciting and on the other just a little daunting. There would not only be the issue of dealing with the river conditions in the dark but also the possibility of being on the river at the same time as commercial shipping. If any ships were to be going to Sharpness they were likely to be on the river at the same time as we were planning to be there and a canoe is not easy to spot even in day light. Precautions had to be taken. A white light would need to be fitted to the stern of the canoe and we’d need a high powered spot light in case we needed to make our presence known to any other vessel. We’d also need to take our flares and the VHF radio.

The weather forecast looked favourable with a light northerly wind and no rain. The early morning temperature was forecast to be 1 degree centigrade but due to rise to about 12 degrees by early afternoon. Not the warmest of trips but at least we’d stay dry, assuming we stayed in the canoe of course. Definitely time to get the drysuit out of the cupboard again!

To avoid an early morning drive we stayed in the van overnight next to the lifeboat station. Parking right under the Severn Bridge had the benefit of waking up at the launch site with no driving to do, which was just as well as we planned to get afloat by six am. At quarter past five we fired up the stove for a cup of tea and stood looking out across the river. The lights from the bridge lit up a narrow band of water, stretching a mile to the other shore, which gave us a glimpse of the river as it surged in from the sea and then plummeted back into darkness. Ian filled a flask with coffee and we hurried to unload the canoe and stash away the kit and the food for the day.

Things always take longer than expected in the dark and it was 6.20 am by the time we were afloat. Paddling out into the main flow and taking great care to avoid the light tower marking the rocks know as the ‘Hen and Chickens’ we were whisked away into the darkness leaving behind the comfort of the lights from the bridge. Looking behind us we could see the flashing red lights marking the pillars of the bridge that supported the motorway high above us.

Ahead of us to our right Oldbury powerstaion was lit up like a fair ground but everywhere else, with the exception of some distant navigation lights all was black. For a few metres around us we could just make out the surface or the river, but not well enough to read the water at all. By the time we were passing Oldbury we were in the widest section of the river. Here the water stretches 2.4 miles across and we were a mile from the nearest shore. The feeling was peaceful with no crowds, cars or general noise of everyday life. However, the thought of a large ship sneaking up behind us was never far from my thoughts and several times I looked over my shoulder just in case. Happily there were none.

Darkness gradually gave way to daylight with the sky showing a remarkable display of colour. Pouring out some coffee we watched the land slipping by and took a break from paddling. It’s the most wonderful feeling to sip hot coffee at daybreak whilst drifting up a river in a canoe. I’ve never found a café anywhere with such a unique setting.

It was now light as we passed Lydney and Sharpness, the river narrows here and there was a swell running diagonally across the river from the Sharpness side. At times we had to turn the bow into the waves to ensure we didn’t end up swimming. Both of us were glad not to be dealing with this in the dark. After Sharpness the river widens out calms down, giving an ideal opportunity for more hot coffee and the chance for some photos.

The next feature on the river is the ‘Noose’, a big ninety-degree bend a mile across, with the approach being over a massive sandbank, nearly always creating some bouncy standing waves. But today the conditions today were fairly tame with only a short run of small waves to enjoy, though we have been here in the past with the waves at head height! Leaving the Noose it was time for breakfast and that was a more serious matter.

Having calculated that we’d need to keep moving if we were to make Gloucester on the tide we planned to have breakfast afloat and at least when we stopped paddling to eat we’d still be moving and making progress. The Triangia stove was out of the question as there absolutely was no way we could risk spilling burning meths inside the canoe. We opted for the gas stove as this was both stable and perfectly controllable and Ian brought along a mat to protect the bottom of the canoe from the heat. This way we were quite happy that we would be safe from giving a demonstration of a Viking funeral ship! Ian opened some tins of sausage and beans (a sort of emergency version of a cooked breakfast) and suddenly gave a cry of despair – “Oh No!”. “You’ve forgotten the saucepan haven’t you” I said. ” Oh Bo####ks” he replied. Not to be beaten it occurred to both of us that we had the teapot with us so the problem was solved – we’d have cooked breakfast in a teapot!

It tasted so good that we didn’t care and to be quite honest it added a bit of fun to the trip making certain that we would remember this one for a long time. So there we were, two grown men, floating up river past Newnham on Severn in a canoe eating sausage and beans out of a teapot. What class!

The morning progressed and our canoe glided past Garden Cliff with its multicoloured layers of rock and over Pimlico sand, now under several feet of water. On past Framilode Church where Ian’s car was parked ready for our egress later in the day and Epney with it’s riverside pub and long flood wall. We were now into Longney Crib, the last wide section of river before the banks closed in on us and on our right a solitary figure was head down, running along the river bank, the only person we saw as we effortlessly paddled past. But as the miles went by the water began to slow down.

By the time Minsterworth and then Stonebench came into view I began to have some doubt that we could canoe all the way to Gloucester before the flow reversed. Stepping up the effort we pushed on but all the time our pace was slowing down. The tips of the Willow branches that had earlier been streaming out sideways from the flow of water through the leaves were now drooping downwards clearly indicating the reducing energy of the river.

As Gloucester Cathedral came into sight the flow completely stopped, yet we only had about a mile to go until the divide in the Severn at Lower Parting.

Just a few minutes later, after 35 miles of canoeing we took the right hand channel and cruised into a sheltered landing spot amongst the Willows, not quite at the docks but near enough. Mooring the canoe to a tree we climbed ashore armed with an Indian Curry and the teapot to heat it in, ready for lunch and happy with a great morning’s paddle, particularly as the river had just at that moment reversed it’s flow.

The paddle back down river was a bit of a chore, the wind had increased and was from directly ahead and the flow was fairly gentle. But Ian had found a new friend and was very happy.

Arriving sometime later at Longney Crib the water level had dropped off remarkably leaving the sandbanks exposed and covered in Gulls. We stopped to fill the teapot, this time with tea, and to dig out the last of the ginger cake. Standing in the middle of the river on the sandbanks we enjoyed the quiet surroundings, and marvelled at the fact that we could stand in a place that only hours before been under several feet of surging muddy water.

The teapot was full, we were afloat again with only a mile and a half to go and the trip was almost over. We poured out the tea as the sun reflected low on the river and our canoe drifted past Epney whilst we watched the Gulls taking off to head back down the estuary.

Coming to a rest at Framilode Church, and having paddled over 45 miles, the journey had ended We hauled the canoe hauled from the water and stood at the top of the bank looking at the view across the Severn towards Pimlico Sand and the wide empty riverbed.

Ian said “next time we come………….”.

Happy Paddling

Steve C