SWEPT AWAY

With rising sea levels becoming a reality and the realisation that storms once described as a ‘once in 100 years event’ seem to be arriving with worrying regularity, we are almost becoming used to seeing pictures of homes being swept into the sea, with whole villages being threatened by a storm-driven high tide.

However, in addition to the natural phenomena and the direct results of climate change, there can be other causes of what, for the people involved, are the worst and most terrifying disasters that can occur - when the sea claims homes, livelihoods and sometimes even lives.

The cruelest of these ‘non-natural’ causes has to be when human stupidity and greed combine to create the ideal conditions for nature to do its worst, with a great example being at the western end of Lyme Bay on the south-eastern shores of Devon.

There, just a mile or so short of the tip of South Devon at Start Point, were North and South Hallsands, with the two villages separated by a rocky headland.

To call them villages is to give them a grand title, for in truth they were little more than hamlets with South Hallsands comprising 37 cottages, a pub, the London Inn and a population of 126. Theirs was a precarious existence, as South Hallsands was situated at the base of high cliffs, on a rocky platform just a few metres above the limit of the high tide.

All that lay between the houses and the waves was a low stone wall and a narrow road, yet at the same time, there was an air of permanence about Hallsands, as it had been a fishing village going back into the mists of time.

Licence to dredge All this was about to change. With the growing demands of late Victorian sea power, in the 1890s it was decided that the dockyard at Plymouth would be extended, which created a huge demand for concrete. It was known that the shingle beds just offshore from the Hallsands were ideal for this work, with a licence to dredge gravel being awarded to a construction company run by Sir John Jackson.

The residents of Hallsands were not even consulted, with the harsh reality starting when 1,100-ton barges and a bucket dredger appeared offshore. For the locals, the initial primary concerns were disturbance to their lobster and crab pots, plus the impact that the dredging would have on local fish supplies.

Before the dredging started, Hallsands was a small but viable community that existed on the narrow strip of land between the cliffs and the sea. Just 22 years later, the village would vanish into the sea. Image: Cookworthy Museum Such was the plight of the Hallsands residents that the famous Victorian poetJohn Masefield (who gave us Sea Fever and Cargoes) wrote a poem to not only commemorate their loss, but to lay the blame firmly on the greed of those who had plundered the protective single bank. Today, a stanza of that poem should serve as a reminder to us all of the dangers of uncontrolled exploitation of our natural resources. Image: Dave Lee

mercy of any winter storms. At first the Board of Trade tried to reassure the residents that as soon as the gravel was dug out, it would be replenished by new supplies being swept up and down the Channel by the tides.

Frank Mildmay, the MP for Totnes, got involved on behalf of the villagers, who were by then voicing concerns that the removal of so much gravel from just offshore would have a determinantal impact on the coast, leaving it to the Exposed to the waves Finally, the Board of Trade bowed to local pressure and set up an Enquiry, which determined that the villages would be paid £125 per annum in compensation, or something in the region of £4 per household.

Set against this mere pittance, huge amounts of gravel were being dug out of one small area of just over a half a mile, with more than 1,000 tons being taken every 10 days for two years. The effect of the removal of so much material was dramatic, as the level of the beach at Hallsands started to sink alarmingly. It soon became apparent that the belief that the gravel banks would be replenished was little more than a vain hope.

The dredging stopped when the fishermen from nearby Beesands threatened to cut the mooring buoys that were being used by the dredger and the barges, but the damage had already been done, with the level of the beach between seven and 12 feet lower.

In the past Hallsands had happily withstood the worst that the wind and waves could do, as seen in the Great Storm of March 1891 when damage

Far from the gravel beds that were just offshore being replaced by the channel tides, the lack of protection has seen erosion and the inevitable further loss from the shoreline continue through to today, to the point that the whole area is now unstable. Image: Dave Lee

was done all along the coast, with big sections of the breakwater at nearby Brixham being swept away. Now, though, the village was fully exposed to the waves sweeping in from the bay, and in February 1903 a section of the protective sea wall was swept away, taking the pub with it!

Homes swept away The protective gravel banks never reappeared, allowing the wave action to undercut the foundations of the village with the final blow falling on the night of 26 January, 1917. Reports in the papers of the day told of a south-easterly gale that was forecast to abate but instead freshened further.

It was later found that a storm surge had occurred, raising the high tide level by more than a foot, but in the terrible darkness of a stormy night, house after house was swept away.

Although the residents were able to escape without loss of life, just two houses were left intact with the rest, including the local chapel, either ruined or vanished.

The local media picked up on the story, with it being referred to as the ‘Disaster of Hallsands’. Another inquiry was set up to look into the reasons for the destruction of the village, but under the cover of wartime controls the findings were never made public, although those who did see it told of how the blame was fully laid on the actions of the dredging.

The residents were all relocated to nearby villages and offered compensation of £6,000 (about £440,000 today), but even this figure is shrouded in doubt as the money may not have gone to those who needed it most.

All that is left today of Hallsands are a few gaunt remains which, for those cruising the West Country, can make for an interesting day trip ashore. Yet the story of Hallsands, the village swept away into the sea, should not be forgotten as it is a reminder that we strip away our natural resources, and in particular those that are protecting us, at our peril.