Leave the ocean with its crashing waves, paddle 2 hours with the rising spring tide and after 12nm you pass under the Mock Bridge, the sea a distant memory.
Beyond that you enter the realm of duckweed pushed into mats by the wind and tide, in places reeds and rushes clog the waterway from side to side. The trusty Anas acuta proved ideal at forcing a route through the thickest tangles, the fine bow rising and pushing them aside under its weight, allowing lesser boats to follow.
Eventually you reach the remnants of Shermanbury watermill. The trees growing up through the maze of contorted walls and channels, something like Angkor Wat before the tourists. Meeting a swimming grass snake, head held above the water, added to the illusion.
Green water! Cool! That's a new one. :)
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