“Horse-hair, I expect; but then age has made them hard and crabbed.”
“Well, I think that the sleeping accommodation might be vastly improved in your Norfolk boats generally. Canvas cots or hammocks, air beds and pillows, would all be better than the thin cushions there are in the cutter. I sha’n’t sleep to-night, for I have pins and needles all over me already.”
And in five minutes he was snoring! One could sleep on a deal plank, or even on an oak one, after a few days and nights on the Broads.
We woke very early in the morning, and found that a brisk breeze had sprung up, and that the lateener had dragged her moorings and drifted into the reeds. She had taken no harm, for, short of being run down by a wherry, there are no dangers of shipwreck on the Broads, and you might drift about unmoored, for all the hurt there is likely to accrue.
After a hurried breakfast we hoisted the foresail, and tore down the dyke into Heigham Sounds, across which we sped fast, throwing the shallow water into waves, which shook the reeds mightily. When we emerged from Kendal dyke into the main stream, we turned to the left, and in less than a mile reached Martham Ferry, which was stretched across the river while some wagons were passing across. This ferry is a large raft, which is kept in a recess on either side of the river, and floated across, reaching from bank to bank when required. There is no one to tend it, and if it happens to be on the other side, a wayfarer must wait until some one appears on the other side to get it across. It is a wonderfully clumsy thing to look at, and is not regarded with friendly eyes by the wherrymen, who run their wherries full tilt against it too often at night, or when, with the wind astern, they are unable to stop. One wherryman, exasperated beyond endurance, let his wherry go at it with all her force when running before half a gale, but only smashed the bows of his vessel, not moving the ferry a bit or injuring it, for it is heavily bound with iron to withstand such experiments.
We sailed to and fro until the wagons had passed, but a wherry coming up had to lower her sail in a hurry, and then struck the raft with great force before it could be drawn away. This jammed it diagonally across the river, and it was half an hour before it could be moved.
At the other side of the ferry, and at the mouth of a dyke, is a capital place for pike and large eels, and I can conceive of no better-looking pike place than the mile of stream between here and Somerton or Martham Broad. The water is deep and clear, with a stratum of lily leaves, about four feet below the surface, and here and there lilies on the surface. As we sailed over its glassy surface, not ruffled by the crossing wind, on account of the high reeds and grasses, we could see thousands of fish of all sizes darting away beneath us; and at the end of the main dyke, where it divides into two, is a deep, clear pool, with a hard, gravelly bottom, where there are any quantity of perch and large roach. It is the beau-ideal of a spot for bottom-fishing, but “fine and far off” must you fish, for the water, though deep, is passing clear. It is easily accessible from Martham railway station, and preferably from Potter Heigham, where, too, you could procure a boat.
The right-hand dyke leads to Somerton Broad, another reed-surrounded lake, possessing no particular merit. From Martham ferry we walked up a steep road to the village, lying around a broad green, and had we time we would have ascended the tower of the church, which is a conspicuous object for miles, and from which a splendid view of sea and lake is attainable.
In the church we noted a tablet to one Burraway, whose history is told there, but is too unpleasant to be more than referred to here.