It is not particularly unusual, adventurous or exciting to row a dinghy down the Thames from the head of navigation at Lechlade to Southend where it becomes the sea. But it seems worth doing because it is there, and so it proved. I also had a personal reason, which was to emulate my grandfather who walked from Putney to Thames Head 70 years ago when he was as old as I am now.

Although the Thames flows gently through a shallow valley, only occasionally enclosed by modest hills, it is a superb waterway for boating. It divides quite clearly into five sections. The upper part of the navigation above Oxford is extraordinarily quiet and almost completely uninhabited; so quiet that one can hear the silence. It is also quite narrow and very winding with little traffic, but with abundant birds and flowers on the banks and in the adjoining pastures where healthy looking cattle graze.

The section from Oxford to Reading is wider and straighter without losing its rural character. In addition to the historic towns of Abingdon and Wallingford there are several villages beside the river, but they add interest without spoiling the charm. Trees and woods abound as do attractive hills, and boats are more in evidence, particularly racing rowing boats.

From Reading to Teddington the river is even wider and straighter; parts of it could almost be called a Grand Waterway. But it has a feel of sophistication that is interesting rather than attractive, and gone for the most part are the fields and woods — replaced by almost continuous housing on both banks, and here the motor cruiser reigns supreme.

From Teddington to Woolwich is London. At first well-wooded at Richmond and Kew, but soon to become the Great City with grand bridges and ever more spectacular buildings overlooking the river, culminating in St Paul's Cathedral, the Tower of London and Tower Bridge. Then subsiding again past the Docklands Development and Greenwich Palace. A great variety of tripper boats dodge from pier to pier making more or less wash as they do so.

Below Woolwich the river is wilder again as the banks recede, commercial buildings become fewer and nature in the form of mud banks and sea birds again takes over, until at Southend it is the sea. The only traffic being all too few seagoing ships, occasional tugs and sometimes an intrepid yachtsman making the passage to or from London.

At last years DCA Fal meeting I mentioned that I was thinking of doing the journey to Peter Glover who had had the same idea; so we quite casually decided to go together, which was, I believe, a great help to both of us. Had either of us been alone in a single boat it would have been more difficult to sustain the effort; but with two in two boats the subtle feeling of not letting the other down undoubtedly kept us keener. It also enhanced our pleasure by being able to share the experience of the venture and our surroundings.

Because the only thing that really happened was that we kept rowing for eleven days until we came to the other end of the river, I thought it would be of more interest to the DCA if I were to write about the logistics of making the passage, and thereby encourage others to make what we found to he a very satisfying cruise. I took my undecked Tideway Dinah with mast and sails and a pair of 8ft oars. I also had a 7ft pair, but they were not so good and I only used them once. Peter took his home designed and recently home built 15ft dory Mag-ic-Ann, which he did not attempt to sail. His boat undoubtedly rowed more easily than Dinah being longer and slimmer, but on the whole the two were very well matched so we were seldom out of sight of one another, and never more than ten minutes apart.

We launched at the boatyard at Lechlade where Riverside, 101367252229, have a slipway for which they charge £5. A car can he left there reasonably securely, for which they also charge. I assume that anyone making the passage of the Thames without an engine will travel downstream, making use of the slight but significant current, and the easier passage down the locks. We were usually on the move 8-10 hours a day which included locks and refreshment breaks, but we had a couple of half days rest. In this time we travelled 15-18 miles and 5-6 locks. That was quite hard going with very little in the way of stops for leisure and entertainment. We felt that we could easily have taken more than twice that time, but I did decide from the first that it was to be a passage not a holiday, and we found it quite congenial to make it so.

The locks are operated by keepers from 0900 to 1900 so delays are minimal, indeed they scarcely allow time for a welcome rest from rowing! Before and after these times they are operable by the public, clear instructions are provided, but they must be read carefully. It is helpful to carry a short boathook for working through. We availed ourselves of the early mornings, usually starting 0700 to 0800 as we both like travelling then, and we always stopped by 1800. But that was just our choice, there is no reason why one cannot travel until it is dark.

Being forewarned that there would be so much rowing, I had feared that we would become either mentally or physically exhausted by it. But as it turned out we never even considered giving up as the rowing proved to be much less wearing than expected. Good seat cushions prevented wear on the backside, and well fitting well finished oar handles kept our hands free from blisters. The only parts that I found to ache seriously were my elbows and one shoulder, but they recovered with each night’s rest.

Both of us, being accustomed to rowing at sea, found that the confines and twists of the river made the task much more difficult. I partially solved this with a last minute improvised wing mirror, which was a great success, saving endless looking over the shoulder, but I did still occasionally run the mast into overhanging trees which were out of view. Peter managed without a mirror but had rather more trouble keeping away from the banks and trees; although he did find a compass useful in the straight reaches.

I had hopes that towing the boats from the tow path would make a nice break from rowing, but it was altogether impossible due to the path being obstructed by trees almost everywhere. Although I had my sailing gear there were almost no opportunities to sail as the wind was contrary or so fluky due to the riverside trees as to be unusable. Always it proved that Peter could row faster than I could sail, so I gave up except to set the foresail occasionally to help me along when it was favourable.

The weather was fine and warm for the first three days and for the passage through London, but for the rest of the journey there were showers or longer spells of rain. This did not actually matter much, as one can row just as well, if not so comfortably, in waterproof clothing, and all our gear was stowed in waterproof containers so we could cope with it. We found that we could keep warm with the exertion when it was cold, and cool in the rain when we got hot. We could have been much worse off if we had had to row in prolonged hot sunshine, as open boats provide no shade.

Comprehensive leaflets are available from the Environment Agency, Kings Meadow House, Kings Meadow Road, Reading, RG1 8DQ — 01734 535000, and Port of London Authority, Devon House, 58-60 St Katherine's Way, London, E1 9LB — 0171 265 2656. Visitors licences for the non tidal Thames are available on the day from locks, and they do check for display of the plaque which is issued. The cost for an unpowered boat is £8 for a month in 1997, which makes it extremely good value for money as there are no other compulsory charges.

We did not pay mooring fees at any stopping place, although motor cruisers are often charged up to £5. We stopped for the nights in remote corners which are easy to find for small enough boats. It is well worth getting out of the annoying wash of passing boats, especially in reaches used for rowing practice, which often takes place early and late in the day. The unused channels behind islands being particularly good, weir streams below locks, and the occasional creek or stream being other alternatives. This of course only applies if one is camping aboard, which is strongly recommended; we met a canoeist who was camping ashore and he had much difficulty finding suitable sites.

Showers are few and difficult to find unless one plans to stay in overnight accommodation. The Thames is however now clean enough to swim in, although we did not avail ourselves of this; it looks however as though it might be difficult to find places where it is easy to get in and out. Lavatories can be found at some locks and in adjacent towns, but these may not always be where and when needed, so it is a good idea to carry paper and a garden trowel for use in remote places. Rubbish disposal is easy at most locks as is drinking water. Food supplies are easily got in the well spaced towns which have the usual supermarkets; Tesco at Reading and Waitrose at Kingston being particularly handy, being right by the river.

For the tidal river we started at 0600 and 0500, which, while dictated by the tide, was planned so that most of the passage was complete before the tripper traffic had built up. Indeed the whole passage was planned to arrive at Teddington to catch an early morning spring tide down through London. I carried a hand-held VHF radio for the passage of the tidal Thames; this is helpful to learn what shipping movements are taking place, and which bridge arches are out of use, as well as informing the Woolwich flood barrier of one's intended passage. While not actually obligatory, they do strongly recommend this.

We encountered no problems going through London, in fact it was easier than doing it in a motor cruiser, and it provided an interesting contrast to what seemed the rural backwater of the upper Thames. Working the full range of the ebb tide we reached below Tower Bridge from Teddington, a distance of 21 miles rowing all the way. We then stopped and rested at a little-used pier for the flood tide, before continuing for a further nine miles on the evening ebb to Barking Creek, where we spent the night on the mud; quiet but for the mosquitoes, survivors no doubt of the malaria carriers of earlier times.

The next day at last brought the wind I was looking for, even if there was rain as well, and I had a cracking sail for 25 miles downriver with the ebb tide, actually towing Peter and Mag-ic-Ann, part of the way. We carried the tide to Hole Haven, which was quite difficult to find, and ran in between the oil jetties at low water to anchor, still in the rain, for a much needed lunch and to try and warm up. There we waited for enough water to make the passage of East Haven and Benfleet Creeks; behind Canvey Island, but not too much to prevent us getting under the low flood barrier at Benfleet. Recovery is possible at many places along the whole length of the river, but we ended our journey at Benfleet Yacht Club as it seemed to have many advantages over those nearer Southend; it is sheltered, convenient for public transport, very hospitable and there our boats stayed while we sorted out our transport to get home.

The approximate statistics of the passage were:-

On the non-tidal river — Miles rowed — 125; hours rowed — 55; speed — 2.25 mph; locks passed — 44; lock/miles per day — 21; bridges passed — 75.

On the tidal river — Miles rowed — 60 (of which 25 were sailed); hours rowed — 17; speed — 3.5 mph; bridges passed — 34.

Total miles — 185 in 72 hours spread over 11 days. (The record for the passage is 39 hours continuously rowed by three men taking turns).

Navigating the Thames in a dinghy, as opposed to a motor cruiser, gives one a completely different feel for the river; one is much closer physically and mentally to the water and nature. One is also treated differently by the people one meets. We found everywhere unfailing courtesy, interest and friendliness from literally everyone; be they officials, passers-by, boat owners, anglers, London watermen or Benfleet YC members. The feeling of contact with the river is the most abiding memory of what was an outstandingly good cruise, the success of which was undoubtedly to a large extent down to careful planning; with, as ever, a fair amount of good luck. And now to Peter's view of the journey —

Lechlade to London by Peter Glover

I got the idea of rowing down the Thames from reading an account of a yacht voyage across Europe by canals and rivers to the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. Although I did not wish to emulate such an undertaking, I thought a small boat voyage along one of Britain's major rivers would be quite enough of an adventure.

My impression of the Thames is the complete contrast to the coastal waters of my usual cruising area, the Solent. The different scenery; the silence of rowing along a calm and sheltered waterway, only occasionally passed by a motor cruiser or narrow boat; the friendly people met en route; and, as it was my first time on the Thames, not knowing what was round the next bend. It all made the voyage very interesting.

The highlight of the journey was going beyond Teddington on to the tidal Thames, to look with awe at the sights of London from one's own small boat — Westminster Bridge, Big Ben, Tower Bridge and the Cutty Sark at Greenwich. Then passing through the Woolwich flood barrier to the open sea — a truly unforgettable experience.

Having spent a few days at home recovering from a rather strenuous adventure, my thoughts returned to the peace and quiet of Lechlade and the possibility of reaching Cricklade and the source of the Thames. I had a few more days to run on my Thames visitor’s license so I set out again a week later, with my boat reprovisioned. I returned to Lechlade by the now familiar road, and after launching at the Riverside Boatyard set off upriver. The four miles to Hannington Bridge is quite rowable, but getting under the bridge entailed dragging the boat through shallow water as the river level was low.

Beyond the bridge the river is narrow and overgrown with reeds and rushes, although occasional clear stretches encourage one to go just a little further. On the second day, after spending the night near the village of Kempsford, I eventually reached Cricklade. But it was quite a task as it is really only navigable by canoes or flat-bottomed boats like my dory.

It seemed impossible to get beyond Cricklade, so I returned to Lechlade the following day. But, now knowing how shallow and overgrown it was, the journey seemed much less hazardous. It had been however, a real — DITCH CRAWLING ADVENTURE.