Framton Marsh

A Memory of Boston.

When we were at school we spent a lot of our time in the summer down the marsh, a poor man's Skegness. We had some wonderful times, swimming in the creeks, that's where I learnt to swim. One time we decided to go over the otherside of the Welland at low tide. We waded across it, four of us, a large dredger was tilted on its side at that time. We must have walked two miles when we saw a man in a boat in a creek, he asked us if we could swim, he said the tide was coming up. From then on it was panic stations, we ran back, in the distance we could see the dredger high in the water. We reached the Welland, it was a raging torrent, we plunged in, three of us went direct, the best way we could, one of the others went with the tide, he had more sense than us; he must have gone a quarter of a mile before he reached the other side. I never thought I would make it, the current was that strong, even when I was two yards from reaching the rocks on the other side; where I got the strength from for that last push I will never know. When I got out I layed on the sand, gasping, it was several minutes before I tried to stand up. One of my mates never went again to the marsh. Other times we would get that sunburned you could hardly lay in bed at night.

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