The Last Ferry at Knott End


We ran down the slippery cobbled old slade.
My coat cracked behind me. My boots putting paid
To me gaining much speed. No grip on the soles.
Overhead the clouds billowed in purple and gold,
As the ferry spat out its rank bilge and pulled round
From the jetty. We skewed to a halt halfway down.
Just a few hundred yards to the opposite shore.
And our snug little cottage a few hundred more.
But the last evening ferry was ploughing its route
And my stomach had sunk to my slippery boots.


6 responses to “The Last Ferry at Knott End

  • Anonymous

    You never missed it? How did you get back? For those who don’t live round here, it’s about a 20 mile trip by road

  • Anonymous

    Yes, would do, There aren’t even that many buses over wyre.

    • Brian Hughes

      No, I know. I remember the good old days when the ferry used to run until half ten at night. Nowadays it stops running when Strictly Come Dancing starts. The fact of being stranded a few hundred yards from home, but having to walk two miles to catch a bus that’s going to take all night to get you back just because some pillock on the ferry wants to watch Strictly Come Dancing just about sums up my existence really.

  • Jo

    25 bloody quid it cost me to get home in a taxi from Knott End because the ferry never came back. I know that sinking feeling very well. You feel like at a push you could maybe swim it lol

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