Haughton Ferry
* From an article in the Heritage Centre Newsletter July 2021 by Pat Batey
A sepia tone picture of Haughton Ferry taken by W. P. Collier around 1914. The ferryman is John Lancaster who had been a signalman at Whittingham station.
Pat Remembers.... When Ferry Cottage became vacant, my husband Allen came home one day and said, “How would you like to live in Ferry Cottage?” Knowing the cottage, I had a closer look and was totally taken with it.
We eventually moved in and, with an agreement to run the rope with Bell attached and pull the ferry from Easter to September at weekends officially. If we were at home during the week, we were there for passengers too. It wasn’t a full-time job by the time we took it on as, in the 60s and 70s, people were all getting their own transport and the ferry was more a novelty than an essential part of life. Most weekends there were no passengers but on a holiday weekend (with good weather) the Barrasford side of the river was a very popular picnic area, and the ferry was a fun trip for people. Rambling wasn’t a popular pastime, but we did get a few users.
There were no late buses on the Barrasford side on Bank Holiday Monday, so quite a few young men would get themselves to Hexham for a suitable trip out (and booze up) knowing that they could get home via Humshaugh and the ferry.
We were very friendly with the Scout Leaders who used Barrasford Station Scout Centre. One group called “The Glurburb Club”, a group for disabled scouts, made arrangements with Allen to have a trip across the ferry and a visit to Haughton Castle. I didn’t see this, but Allen told me that a few arrived in wheelchairs and, with a lot of manoeuvring and hoisting, these boys had a fabulous experience of the ferry, their private visit to the Castle and the return journey. You’d have to see the access to the ferry on both sides to appreciate how difficult the challenge was.
The river is a moving force with many a torrent of floodwater, mainly from Kielder Forest, and, when this occurred, we had to winch and pulley the rope above the water line. One flood took out our original old boat, even though we had raised it from the flood line and chained it up. Next day, all we found was the chain and the prow of the boat! This was replaced by a Tweed fishing boat. Another major flood brought a full tree down river which snatched on to the raised rope and the tension broke the winch, which was never replaced but we then used the oars on the “Tweed” boat.
There had been a ferry crossing here since the 1100s. An agreement was made between Ranulph de Haughton and William de Swinburne to run between Shillburnhaugh (Haughton) and Scotshaugh (Shotts). When the Paper Mill at Haughton was in production, the ferry was moved to its present position in the late 1700s or early 1800s.
You never think when you are younger that you ARE living history and lots of “if onlys” occur. If only we’d had a guest book. If only we’d had today’s cameras or phones.
To call the ferry, passengers had to grab the rope, stretched across the river, swing it and a bell rang on the end of the house. The river was in spate but not too much and, undaunted, set off for the Rambler. No safety wire as that had “gone” a few years before and was not replaced. To cross the river in any condition, you faced the “pointed” end of the boat up river into the flow and it gently crossed at that angle, hand over hand movement on the rope, strung over the river. The passenger was so grateful as it was a three-mile walk to Chollerford, only 1½ miles to Humshaugh and the bus.
The river before Kielder reservoir was built used to rise after a North Tyne downpour, like a mini Severn Bore. Not to be trusted. A young girl became trapped once on the rocks in the middle of the river. Two local men went to her rescue her with ropes. I presented them with a homemade medal called a Y. Front … Yours for rescue on the North Tyne.
The ferry bell rang. I went out and picked up a family. They asked about the ferry and I told them that there had been a crossing here for 800 years. The little boy asked his Dad “Has the lady been here that long?” I was only in my 20s! I picked up two families and, when they got to my side and disembarked, they asked if they could use my toilet! They did leave 2/- (20p) for the use.
One very sunny Easter weekend, we made £5 in ferry fares – Wow! A one off but we did have a good party the next weekend!
I came home one afternoon from work to find a group of canoeists gathered on my doorstep. One of their group, after the river had risen very quickly, had become entangled in an overhanging branch, fallen out of his canoe and almost drowned. He had been taken to my neighbour’s house and I was left dishing out cups of tea, etc.
Europe’s largest Canoe festival, the Tyne Tour, is held on the Tyne at Hexham on the first weekend in November. The North Tyne plays an important role with hundreds of canoeists taking part on sections right down to Hexham. I remember that one young girl had been persuaded to join her friends and, totally ill-equipped, ended up at my neighbours in a state of hypothermia. It is still a very colourful sight to see from Ferry Cottage but sadly only since the closure of the ferry crossing.
Once, terrific screams and yells attracted my neighbour to an accident on the Barrasford side. A wagon had come off the road and rolled down the steep hillside out of sight of Barrasford. She forded or swam the river whilst someone phoned the emergency service. Luckily the driver’s injuries were not life-threatening but bad enough.
Jim Shepherd, the previous incumbent before us, used the ferry to take himself to the Barrasford Arms. A prolific drinker on is pension day, he would find himself quite often landing in the river. Our lovely neighbours often had him on their doorstep drenched through. Luckily, they had a key to get him into the cottage and dried out. They often looked out for him and, when coming from our local, would make sure that he was safely home.
Once, a big shout from the Barrasford side alerted me to a special old school friend of mine who had persuaded her husband to drop her off and she would use the ferry whilst he drove round to us. Sadly, she hadn’t realized that the ferry was no longer in use! Allen forded the river and assisted her to safety on our side. We still talk about it when I go to see her in Weardale.
The original “old” boat wasn’t waterproof and, before we collected anyone, we went, bucket in hand, to bale the water out. My toddler son came into the living room one day with my knee-high boots on, up to his bum, shoe ends all askew, beach bucket in hand. “What are you doing, Steve?” “Goin’ a bale a boat, Mam, goin’ a bale a boat.” He was only two!
Almost home to our landing stage on the Haughton side. The year is 1971 and the boat is the Haughton Ferry. I always took the boys with me when I had passengers for Barrasford.
When the ferry ceased, we purchased a boat of our own, which my son used regularly to go to work at Barrasford and also for the very few passengers too.
We’ve been the end part of a very long era. In the 1800s, a family called Turnbull were working the ferry for at least 40 years according to the census. At this 2021 census, we have occupied the ferry for 54 years but only 10 of these with the boat. Mr. Turnbull would have a lot more stories than I can relate. If only he’d written them down!
