Save Our Selsey
I remember when I first heard that Selsey had flooded. I burst into tears. Seeing the aerial pictures was a sorry sight. Funnily enough, it’s weird when I think back on it. The news reporter was paddling in the flood water right up by the entrance because that’s how far the water had come in and when you think about and know that West Sands is the biggest caravan park in Europe, you only begin to realise just how devastating this was. Physically and emotionally. We knew it was going to happen though. We knew she’d get her own way.
Selsey, March 2008
It’s odd really. It honestly doesn’t feel like I was in Selsey last week and it’s almost as if I had this dream that I was there. I’ve never felt so connected to a place as much as I am there; when I’m there, I feel complete. It’s like I connect with my soul.
It makes me sad to see the state of it now. I remember when the Waterfront Complex wasn’t even there and the beach was slightly bigger, as in, you could actually reach the bottom of the jetty without the fear of being pulled under. Selsey is slowly disappearing and I just know that when it’s gone, part of me will be too. Not a lot of people understand this feeling I have about it. My family feel the same.
Take the first time we ever went there; my brother got out of the car and said, “I’ve been here before.” He denies it now but he told us that he felt like he was a soldier like in Sharpe. I think we were all there in a past life.
In 1994, we started a new era. My mum asked her best friend to come with us on holiday to place she herself had been to when she was a young child in the days where the tide used to go out for three miles, hence the name “West Sands”. Arriving in Selsey in the city of Chichester in West Sussex, my mum told us of the tide which never came and Eileen’s dark wood caravan with the ramp which was far at the back of the campsite and her friend ended up living in Selsey for a number of years afterwards, simply because she fell in love with the place, just as we have. The days where the bar in the Embassy Ballroom was at the back of the room and the main entrance was at the side and when the Smuggers restaurant was small and called “Nab Tower.” The swimming pool was large witha big fountain and it was situated next to the Quarter Deck. When what’s now known as “The Quays” was the main arcade and had the machine known as Spider Stompin’ which happens to be there still. I can still see Malcolm and Ian sitting in the Ocean Pub, and i still remember the corridor which led to the Nab Tower. I even remember some of the pictures on the walls of the pub. I still remember when I won my Tutass. He still shares my bed with me after all these years and he’s one of my prized possessions.
The year that we stayed in the caravan one evening and Neville did a highly amusing and highly accurate impression of Julie. In 2001, we had a very pretty caravan with a verandah and lots of pretty things all around it. The sea claimed it in March 2008. 2002 was on of the best years of my life so far and in August, I went there with my then best friend. In October 2002, we returned and had one of the most scariest nights of my life. There was a storm and I’ll never forget the sensation of the caravan rocking gently from side to side, the horizontal rain or the swaying lampost. That was the year that Christian wrote all over his white jumper and got conned out of some money by girls that were using him. I still remember standing in the toilets, feeling rather tipsy, and my mum telling some random woman that I was afraid because of the weather (the DJ had announced that the Embassy was the safest place to be and that they had had warnings from the Met Office). The woman said that Selsey had been through far worse weather than that and boy, it hadn’t even happened yet. 2004 was the year that I had Chris with me and as we were driving away from Selsey, “Farewell My Summer Love” played on the radio. There couldn’t have been a more appropriate song. October 2006 was the last year that we took Ruby with us and when we came back from Selsey in October 2007, we brought home some pebbles from the beach and placed them on her grave. My mum got a tattoo of Ruby’s name on her back. That was the last time we went to Selsey for another 2 years.
Pulling into West Sands Caravan on the 30th of October 2009, I felt complete. I was home. I had to get out of the car, breathe in Selsey’s air and feel her all around me. It’s hard to explain how it feels being there. It’s hard to explain how much I missed her and how much I still miss her. How much I will miss her. When we drove down Medmerry Beach, I felt my heart break. The Sea was closer than ever. Seeing the defences like they are made me feel different emotions at once. Sitting in the Ocean Pub (which never changed it’s name) just felt natural. My mum noted that they must’ve changed the carpet when it flooded. I had only had a couple of sips of my medium white wine when my mum suggested that we went for a walk down the beach. What I saw actually made me a bit speechless if I’m honest. We went to find our pretty caravan and all that was left was a concrete slab and a few dead shrubs. We found our famous swaying lampost and far too many spaces. They are still building up the defences against a relentless sea that wants her land back. She was here first.
“It’s odd, it’s like they’re preparing for a nuclear war. Quite scary really.”
We made our way back up and sat in the pub, telling everybody what we had learned. The caravans had simply disappeared without a trace during the night. The sea had been so powerful, it had literally lifted the beach up and dragged it across the caravan park, smashing the caravans apart and dragging them back with it. Finally, four o’clock had come around and we went to the caravan. Usually, we have a gold or a silver but as my mum didn’t book the caravan until really late, we had to “slum it” in a bronze. It wasn’t a bad caravan. Narrower than what we’re used to but it was ok as we were going to be there for only two nights.
Evening came by and I dressed up for Hallowe’en, just as I had for every Hallowe’en I’ve ever had in Selsey. Stepping through the doors of the Waterfront Complex and into the arcade, it just felt like we hadn’t left. Showing our passes at the door was just second nature to us. First thing I noticed was that they had given the redundant space at the back a job to do: it’s a shop now, full of sweets and flashing lights (I remember when they used to sell them on a little stall near the old main entrance). The Embassy was just the same; full, loud and familiar. I smiled. A while into the evening, my mum took me on the beach to see the sea. It wasn’t rough but when she pulled back, you could hear that deep, angry roar. Dancing on the dancefloor with my little brother was just how it’s meant to be. If I had a pound for every time I’ve stepped foot on that rectangle of wood. We left the Embassy at 2am and managed to find our caravan. It took me a really long time to sleep and only when it started to rain, I truly knew I was in Selsey.
The next day was gorgeous and still. The sea barely moved, but when it did, you could feel the anger within. We went into town and Daniel and I went for a wander down to St. Peters Church; the only church I’d ever want to get married in. I took some photos and met my mum and dad in The Crown, remembering the last time I sat there. It was the day that my mum got her Ruby tattoo. The next place we stopped was Selsey Lifeboat station; the scene of one of the scariest moments in my mum’s life. The day that she nearly threw Daniel into the sea for a reason that she has never managed to discover. She only describes it as an urge, as if someone was telling her to do it.
We then went on to Selsey Bill and to my complete and utter astonished surprise, the tide was out and there was SAND. Sand in Selsey, West Sussex. Who’da thunk it. Selsey Bill is usually BRUTAL. Last time we were there, my brother and I got soaked to the bone when a wave hit us (more on that later ;o)). Afterwards, we went back to the caravan.
Later on that evening, our last night in Selsey, we went to the Embassy that was packed to the rafters. We stayed in the Ocean Pub until it closed at 11, then we went onto the Solent View upstairs. I said that when the weather is rough, it must whistle like hell up there.
The next morning, I was awoken by a sound that I have only ever heard in Selsey. The sound of the wind and rain battering the caravan. It was 8am and I was the first person up with that familiar feeling of dread. Oh god, not this again. As the morning went on, the weather got worse and you could actually hear the sea roaring her famous roar. We started to panic. We ended up leaving the door open after it slipped out of my hand and crashed into the side of the caravan.
“Oh, she hasn’t broken it has she?”
My mum told him that if I had, then it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t. We broke a new personal record by getting out of the caravan before 10am. A first for us. Driving through the caravan park was a new experience. The rain came down hard and visibility was tough. We drove along the front and we could see the sea splashing over the defences. We just had to have a look. We crept forward and the next thing I knew, they were calling my name but it was too late. I had been caught under a wave. Luckily for me, my camera is splash proof! The wave had caught all of us but I got the worst. We sat in the car and laughed. We were absolutely soaked. We drove onto reception at it seemed that we were not alone in getting the hell out of there.
I cried like I usually do when we drove out of Selsey and Medmerry Mill grew smaller as it usually does. This time, I wasn’t crying just because we were leaving, I was crying because of Selsey. We said, “goodbye and goodluck” and she’ll need it.
Selsey, I love you.
have signed up so hopefully, I’ll be able to go down there to help! Can’t wait to get my car. Leigh went to Selsey today! *Jealous*.
