Living as i do in the heart of the Lincolnshire fens, almost every journey I make involves crossing water ways. As this land was reclaimed from the sea, the whole area is criss-crossed with rivers, and man made rivers known locally as drains. Road bridges are expensive, and can only be justified when demand is reasonably heavy. From the time the fens were drained until the early years of the twentieth century, ferries were used in areas where traffic was light. There were at least five ferries on the river Witham between Lincoln and Boston, as well as three bridges. The last one, at Dogdyke, did not close until 1965. It was operated by the landlord of a pub on the bank, and owned by the brewery.
These ferries were chain ferries. A chain was anchored at each bank, and lay on the river bed. The chain passed through a tunnel built into a boat, and was connected to a hand operated winder. It was probably quite hard work, as the load could be a dozen people and two or three cows or horses in busy times. At least one local ferry could carry a car. In the days when most people walked or biked, a ferry could save a detour of ten or fifteen miles,
There is a local story of an apprentice who was sent into town on a horse by his employer to collect some shopping. At lunch time he dallied too long at the pub, and arrived at the ferry just as the boat was leaving. With bravado born of alcohol, he spurred the horse to run down the ramp, and leap the 10 feet to the departing boat. He made it. But unfortunately when he landed on the boat, the horses hooves went through the bottom...
I find it sad that a thing that was so important a part of local life is now just a fading memory.
These ferries were chain ferries. A chain was anchored at each bank, and lay on the river bed. The chain passed through a tunnel built into a boat, and was connected to a hand operated winder. It was probably quite hard work, as the load could be a dozen people and two or three cows or horses in busy times. At least one local ferry could carry a car. In the days when most people walked or biked, a ferry could save a detour of ten or fifteen miles,
There is a local story of an apprentice who was sent into town on a horse by his employer to collect some shopping. At lunch time he dallied too long at the pub, and arrived at the ferry just as the boat was leaving. With bravado born of alcohol, he spurred the horse to run down the ramp, and leap the 10 feet to the departing boat. He made it. But unfortunately when he landed on the boat, the horses hooves went through the bottom...
I find it sad that a thing that was so important a part of local life is now just a fading memory.