I've been for a riverside walk from Teddington to Richmond and here are seven Draw-Off snapshots along the way.
Teddington Lock
Above Teddington Lock you wouldn't know anything was amiss, the river is as a-brim as ever. That's because the lock marks the Thames's tidal limit so no closing of lower weirs has any effect, the flow is all fresh water from upstream. A lengthy weir with tumbling bays divides the river longitudinally in two, shepherding boats towards the lock proper (which is closed until next year to allow repairs to the lock walls and gate ram trench). During Draw-Off the difference in water level from one side of the weir to the other is several metres, even when it's not low tide (as it wasn't when I turned up). The crashing water must also be a relentless presence in the ears of those who've bought otherwise luxury apartments on the site of what used to be light entertainment bastion Teddington Studios.
Teddington Lock Island
This artificial island connects the weir to the lock and supports the Teddington Lock Footbridge, the sole Thames crossing for almost five miles. Come on a Saturday morning and it's like a middle class motorway, all joggers, dogwalkers and well-wrapped families, and all completely ignoring the central exit onto the island. From here two brief paths head off to left and right through squirreled woodland, bounded by fresh water on one side and brackish on the other. Keep walking to find metal steps that sometimes lead into tidal water and currently descend onto muddy foreshore where I was chuffed to have the willowy beach entirely to myself, at both ends. Infrequently visited, rarely seen.
Teddington Obelisk
Downstream of Teddington Lock is a knobbly obelisk which in 1909 defined the Thames Conservators' lower limit. These days it marks the boundary of the Port of London's jurisdiction, all 95 miles of salty empire between here and the North Sea, and has had to be surrounded by protective railings because they'd rather not have to refurbish it again. Along this stretch the waterside willows sometimes break to provide access to an expanse of exposed mud and shingle, again allowing those with decent footwear to step down and approach the shrivelled Thames. I scoured the pebbles for treasure but only spotted dozens of empty shells, and perhaps the labrador that bounded down after me had better luck.
Cross Deep
For the next mile the Thames Path hides mostly within a leafy tunnel so the river could be high or low and you wouldn't realise. Only intermittently are there glimpses of the rich waterfront pads on the opposite bank, the mini-palaces on Strawberry Vale bought primarily for their back garden moorings, not the length of the lawn. Some days their cruiser bobs beside the boathouse twice daily but in November it drops out of sight, temporarily unusable, and no ladder has sufficient rungs to reach the water. A large beach has been exposed on the inside of the bend by Eel Pie Island, its striped shingle and mud accessed down a short flight of stone steps, and all watched over by a single bench for those who prefer not to squidge underfoot.
Hammerton's Ferry
The permanently low water level confines every local boat until the Draw-Off ends, and the same goes for the aluminium skiff that operates the delightful Hammerton's Ferry. This operates daily from March to October then hibernates throughout November allowing Andy & family some time off before coming back weekends only during the winter months. At present even the lowest of the steps on the Twickenham side is high and dry above the water, making it plain why they don't bother to operate. A notice on the post thanks patrons for "a wonderful 2024 season" and confirms they'll be back on Sunday 1st December. The coffee cart on the south bank remains open to service non-crossers with hot drinks, yesterday accompanied by a fantastically eclectic table sale offering apple chutney, tennis balls and bunches of kale courtesy of Petersham & Ham Sea Scouts.
Richmond Bridge
The water's so low under Richmond Bridge that the mud below its footings is exposed. Every gangway connected to a private residential mooring slopes down to its lowest extent, now resting on the river bed. Tiny islands are revealed as artificial confections supported on rocks or encircled by a rim of steel. On Richmond Riverside yesterday the pubs were packed with rugby fans grabbing a pint or three before the big game, oblivious to anything unusual. Saturday also saw Richmond's annual Draw-Off Litter Pick, a three hour volunteer-led foreshore clean-up where kind souls fill bags with detritus while water levels permit. Last year's muddy photos clearly showed why the organisers urge participants to wear wellies and waterproofs, but trainers seemed more than adequate this year and after just fifteen minutes the few people who'd turned up were struggling to find much to fill their bags.
Richmond Lock
This is the head of the Draw-Off, the weir where holding back the tide lowers the water upstream. But water levels also remain low downstream of the lock, arguably more obviously so, as headwaters flowing down from the Cotswolds and Surrey Hills fail to reach this far. Unfortunately it's not possible to continue on the Richmond side of the river at present because the towpath unexpectedly collapsed on 19th October due to flood damage along Syon Reach. A paucity of connecting paths has made 2½ miles of riverbank instantly inaccessible, the entire stretch past Kew Gardens, and the prescribeddetour is both annoyingly long and cycle-unfriendly. But by the looks of things at least one heron was loving the peace and quiet, and indeed the shallower water. Until Friday 22nd November at approximately 08:43.
