If you do an internet search for the most dangerous river in the world you might be surprised to find that Yorkshire’s River Wharfe is high in the results, next to the piranha-infested Amazon.
The fearsome reputation of the innocuous-looking river largely comes from the single stretch known as the Strid, near Bolton Abbey. Here, for a short distance, the normally-placid 30-metre-wide Wharfe is effectively flipped on its side and the entire flow of water is concentrated down and forced in a raging torrent through a narrow chasm of rock, barely two metres wide.
Over millennia the extreme force of the water has carved out underwater hollows and caves where the power of the water pins and drowns anyone or anything unfortunate enough to fall into the Strid; in fact, throughout history it’s reported that the Strid has a 100 per cent mortality rate – everyone who has ever fallen in has drowned there.
This grim fact was one of many that local author Johno Ellison discovered for his new book, Walking the Wharfe: An Ode to a Yorkshire River, in which he walked the entire length of the Wharfe, from the mouth to the source. Over five days Johno covered almost a hundred miles and wild-camped by the riverside.
"The Wharfe has always had a reputation as a dangerous river," Johno says. "There are even rumours that one section near Collingham is home to a kelpie – a sort of mythical creature that takes the form of a majestic horse and promises to ferry you across to the other side without getting wet. But once you climb on its back it suddenly changes and gallops off into the depths, taking you to your watery grave."
The river isn’t all doom and gloom though, Johno also discovered many tales where Yorkshire wit and humour shine through, especially in the face of authority. Along his riverwalk he retraced the footsteps of a Victorian author named Edmund Bogg who completed the same journey at the end of the 1800s.
"Once I read Edmund Bogg’s old book," Johno explains, "I became fascinated with following along and seeing what things had changed, and what had stayed the same." Many towns and villages have been transformed by development, but it appears that the jocular character of the inhabitants remains. Johno tells of how the residents of Burnsall woke one day way back in 1804 only to find that their prized maypole was gone. After a short search the missing pole turned up in nearby Thorpe, whose inhabitants were famed for making shoes. A small mob of outraged Burnsalians formed, marching over the fields to retrieve their maypole, and, in the words of Edmund Bogg, "thrashing the cobblers".
"The funny thing was, that when I was researching the original story I discovered that the exact-same thing happened almost two hundred years later," says Johno.
In 1991 the Burnsall villagers once again found that their maypole had been snaffled, and again it was discovered standing proud in the middle of Thorpe. Like before, the Burnsalians gathered a group, tramped over the fields to Thorpe and reclaimed their property, although it wasn’t reported whether any thrashing took place this time.
All along the river Johno found a number of these instances where history seemed to rhyme. A mill in Addingham, near Ilkley, was attacked by a mob of angry Luddites – a group of weavers caught in the grip of rising food prices following the Napoleonic Wars and facing the loss of their livelihoods in the face of new weaving technologies. “As soon as I read that I was struck by how similar it was to modern-day concerns about job losses due to AI and about the cost of living crisis," says Johno.
What also shone through along Johno’s walk though was the warmth and humour of the Yorkshire folk who live along the riverbanks. In one tale set in the church in Burnsall, in the Dales, Edmund Bogg tells of a vicar who began his Sunday service only to find that a howling winter snowstorm had left him with just one person in his congregation; the sexton.
Unperturbed, the vicar began anyway, with the usual opening, "Dearly beloved brethren".
His single audience member, Peter Riley, immediately interrupted with: "Neea, neea; ye maun’t seay 'Deearly beloved brethren,' ye maun say, 'Deearly beloved Pete!'"
"I loved this story as a classic example of Yorkshire wit, especially when dealing with authority," Johno says. "You could easily picture any Yorkshireman saying the same thing today."
As well as observing the people who live along the river Johno also kept a keen eye on the wildlife, spotting a rare otter, hearing about the return of spawning salmon, and even observing the nature of the river itself.
"The Wharfe is an especially great river to walk," he says, "because you really get to observe the personality of the river and how it changes. What starts off as a wide, placid river in the flat farmland of the Vale of York really changes in character as you get up in the wilder Yorkshire Dales, until you see that mighty river dwindle all the way down to a little gushing stream that comes right out of the hillside, on a bleak moor in the middle of nowhere."
- Walking the Wharfe: An Ode to a Yorkshire River by Johno Ellison and published by Bradt Guides was released on August 10 and is available in bookshops and online.
- Writer Johno Ellison grew up in Boston Spa on the banks of the River Wharfe. Following school, he joined the RAF to train as helicopter pilot. He has travelled widely, visiting more than 80 countries, but always enjoys returning to explore more of his native Yorkshire. Since 2014, he has lived in Kuala Lumpur where he works as a freelance product designer and teaches online engineering and design courses to students from all around the world.
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