Six miles offshore from Deal lie the notorious Goodwin Sands, a ten mile long chain of sandbanks which is only exposed at low tide and which completely disappears beneath the waters at high tide.

But over the centuries the Goodwin Sands have earned themselves the name of the ‘Great Ship Swallower’ having caused over two thousand shipwrecks. Often the ship would run aground but any sailor that climbed out onto the sandbank would then be drowned as the tide came in.

These days Dover Sea Safari runs occasional trips in their rib out to the Goodwins but they can only go at really low tides when the weather is calm. We went on one of these trips this week.

The rib is kept in Dover harbour’s swanky new marina:

After leaving Dover harbour, we travelled north hugging the coast as far as St Margarets before turning out to sea. There are always ominous signs of recent rock falls in front of the beautiful white cliffs:

This slot was carved into the chalk by chains that were used to salvage the cargo from the Preussen which was shipwrecked in 1910 in Crab Bay:

The Preussen was the World’s only five-masted ship with each mast carrying six square sails, and she could travel very fast indeed when in full sail. But her speed proved to be her undoing:

Any image of a hundred grand pianos being hauled up the cliffs on chains has unfortunately not been preserved for prosperity, but it must have been a very bizarre sight indeed.

At St Margarets Bay, the sun was shining on the group of white houses down on the shore. Noel Coward and subsequently Ian Fleming lived here after the Second World War.

Once we arrived at the Goodwin Sands, we were decanted four at a time into a smaller boat and pulled ashore by one of the crew:

We then had forty-five minutes to wander the sands before we needed to return to the boat:

There was a surreal, otherworldly feel to the place. The tides have carved the sand into intricate designs:

Our time there was very limited but it felt like we should sit and try to absorb the strange atmosphere of the place.

We were very aware that we were walking on hallowed ground and it was impossible to forget how many lives have been lost there.

For forty-five minutes we were temporarily intruding somewhere that humans shouldn’t be…

A strange new world where we didn’t belong.

The East Goodwin Lightvessel could be seen to the north of us, warning shipping of the danger:

There were no shells and no worm casts on the sands, just a couple of washed up cuttlefish and this single dead sand eel:

Grey seals haul out here at low tide. We had disturbed one little group into the water as we arrived even though we hadn’t got close. The sight of any human at all there is so unusual:

But they were back in place again by the time we left:

On the horizon to the north there was a very long line of grey seals:

Towards the end of our time on the sandbank, the weather changed rapidly – the wind picked up and a fog bank rolled in. There was an urgency in the air to get the ten off us off the Goodwins and back onto the boat:

Once we were all safely aboard, the rib turned for home and soon out ran the fog, arriving back in Dover in the evening sunshine. It is not often that weather and tide conditions come into line and allow these trips to run and we were fortunate to have got the opportunity to spend some time in such a special place.

The weather has been mostly sunny and calm recently and I have been in my happy place – pottering around the meadows photographing invertebrates and then trying to identify and learn about them. I have been doing this so much this week that I only include a small selection here.

In last week’s post I included this photo. This is a mating pair of Empis tessellata dance flies, also called dagger flies. The male gives the female a nuptial gift of a dead fly (a St Marks fly in this case) and mates with her as she eats it:

This week I saw the same thing happening but on a much smaller scale. These flies are also Empis sp but are very tiny at only about 3mm long:

A scorpion fly is another species where the male will give the female a nuptial gift to keep him safe from her as he then mates with her:

Small blue butterflies have emerged out into the meadows:

Last autumn I planted several plugs of horseshoe vetch onto the new chalk banks and they are flourishing there with little competition from other plants for now:

We saw a small blue butterfly nectaring up on the horseshoe vetch:

It is the time of year when the meadows are filled with the yellow of buttercups:

Buttercups provide a lot of pollen and this seems to be particularly appreciated by small beetles:

A hawthorn shield bug, quite a sizeable and magnificent animal at 14mm long excluding its antennae:

And a hatching out of tiny little spiderlings:

Although I am very much still discovering new species of invertebrates in the meadows, it is rare to see a new mammal species after being here for ten years. But this week a stoat was on the cameras for the first time ever:

There has been an increase in the rabbit population these last couple of years and this is probably what has interested the stoat:

Also partial to rabbit, of course, are the foxes:

The sense of smell of a badger is so developed that it can detect where there are baby rabbits underground and can then dig down through the soil to get at them. Here is our female badger with this year’s triplets:

In the wood, the green woodpeckers are still very active in and around the hole in the old cherry tree:

The camera trained onto the tree is picking up incidental wildlife that passes along the track behind:

Jays are frequent and enthusiastic bathers in the ponds:

This flamboyant hoverfly, Helophilus pendulus, likes to hang out around ponds as he awaits a female:

The regenerating section of the wood is now filled with bugle:

My last photo for today is from this afternoon’s stroll round the meadows – two newly emerged broad-bodied chasers were circling the hide pond….dragonfly season has begun!