This place hasn't changed much since I used to play and fish here as a boy. When I look I hear the rattle of wind, the swooping grind of the sawmill, and the slap of cable on the masts of yawls. We never used to catch anything in this spot, but on the other side of the sluice gate, which protects the land from the tidal Humber, there were eels. The big ones were strong as a cow's tongue; they wrapped themselves around your arm and would not let go. Sometimes we would find them in the grass, crawling like snakes.