A peaceful end.
These wrecks sit quietly in a small area of saltings. This kind of image is one of the attractions of the East Coast. Similar scenes can be found all along our shores. Like a fine wine matures with age, the more weathered and decayed the wrecks become, the more charming they appear. We grow up seeing wrecks like these on our beaches, in our rivers and creeks. We climb on them as kids, some of us even as adults. The obsessive 'clamp and tow' culture found with other modes of transport seems to thankfully pass by our creeks. The East Coast, I fear, would not be the same without scenes like this. Studying the sections of rotting framed planks, or the peeling paintwork, one wonders of the vessels once busy life; full of the excitement and springiness of youth, serving a once caring skipper, who would have lovingly sanded and freshly painted to the gunwale, and when coming up river, saluted proudly whoever passed to port.
A ramshackle mess? Or a picture of wild rugged beauty?