The Gentleman at the River

The Gentleman at the River
The one who owned the land
Said I could not paddle
He told me I was banned
He explained that this was ‘his river’
And he was not obliged to share
But he kindly agreed to an access agreement
Which he considered fair
An annual trip on a very short stretch
On a specified date and time
Would be how canoeist’s could enjoy ‘his river’
Without committing a crime

I thanked this gentleman profusely
For his reasonable and generous ways
For agreeing to canoeists’ access
On those few, selective, days
And for forty years I kept to his rules
And I requested that others did too
This was, after all, ‘his river’
My negotiations reinforcing this view

But it was when he withdrew his permission
That I finally realised
That at that very first meeting
This gentleman had lied
This was no more ‘his river'
Than it belongs to you or me
In law nobody owns the water
Meaning that all our rivers are free
The river has flowed for thousands of years
Long before this man
His house, his fences, his cows and sheep
Had occupied the land
It is part of our natural heritage
Which is not the preserve of the few
Rivers are free for all to enjoy
Including me out paddling my canoe

The gentleman at the river
The one who owned the land
Said I could not paddle
He told me I was banned
I did not apologise, I did not speak
I launched within sight of this man
If someone says that you can’t paddle
Show them that you can

A poem written by a canoeist, not specifically about the Avon, but perhaps relevant all the same.