Between the Tides: Rodney Clayton on Memory, Marshes, and a Life Outdoors

In Between the Tides, Rodney Clayton opens the door to a life shaped by mudflats, migration, and the wild, untamed spaces of the British foreshore. This deeply personal anthology of wildfowling stories brings together memories, characters, and changing landscapes from decades spent pursuing wildfowl beneath vast skies and on shifting tides.

More than a sporting memoir, the book explores heritage, nature, friendship, and the quiet lessons learned at the edge of the land. With warmth and wit, Rodney reflects on his upbringing in rural Lincolnshire, his early mentors, and the joys and mishaps that shaped his wildfowling journey.

In this Q&A, Rodney reflects on the writing process, the importance of preserving stories, and the values at the heart of a life spent in wild places.

What first inspired you to begin writing down your wildfowling memories?

To be fair, I wasn’t writing a wildfowling book even though it is the central theme. What influenced me was that anecdotal knowledge: the spoken word is lost after two generations. For example, I was brought up in the post-war transition from horses to full mechanisation. My son was born into the modern farming era and has no knowledge of my growing-up history. Equally, I am passionate about both the environment then and now. It is important to know how it was then to compare it with now, as many people only know it as it is now.

The book is filled with rich detail about people, places and traditions. How did you go about selecting which stories to include?

Probably one of the easier answers; back in the day – oh, how I hate that terminology – there were many characters; today people seem shaped by the media (sorry for being cynical). I suppose there was more equality; anyone behaving above their station was soon knocked back. Traditions go with places. Solway, Humber, Wash, and Cromarty are so iconic you become part of the fabric.

You describe yourself as more of a wildfowler than a writer. How did it feel to capture your experiences in print?

When I look at our grandchildren's education, grammar, etc., I am aware of my own limitations. I suppose I have written a story. I started writing a story at the beginning, not knowing if there would be an end. However, some 100k words I have written (something). It was genuinely a pilgrimage. I would never have forgiven myself if I hadn’t submitted the people and events to text.

Between the Tides is filled with a strong sense of place. What makes the coastal marshes and estuaries so special to you?

It’s the drama of wild places, nature's constantly changing scene. The power of nature twice a day, forcing the tide, providing a banquet twice a day, bringing to life the intertidal creatures.

Many of the stories include humour and misadventure. How important was it for you to capture the lighter side of wildfowling?

Strangely enough I remember my disasters more than my success – nature makes you humble. There aren’t many people pursuing wildfowl, so there is a real sense of camaraderie; the ratio of success is small, so consequently we have a relief valve by making fun of one another's mistakes.

Mentorship and community come through strongly in your writing. What role have others played in your journey as a wildfowler?

Mentoring I suppose you don’t realise how people have mentored you until you look back. I guess they were subtle, and you were too young to realise. I appreciate I have a wealth of opportunity almost on my doorstep; consequently, being able to share that opportunity comes easily.

You also touch on changes in farming, the environment and rural life over the decades. What shifts have stood out to you the most?

Phew, how long have you got? Firstly, people of a certain age will obviously have a degree of bias. However, it will be evident from my recollections that things aren’t good in the countryside. Clearly in 75 years one has witnessed many things. One simple biometric – my first car,1965, a one-year-old Mini – cost less than a hoover today. That’s difficult for people of a certain age to keep a perspective, and that’s only financial. I believe I have touched on the welfare of the countryside quite frequently in the story. Bottom line: sadly, there are many issues environmentally that have been mishandled over the years that can’t be fixed short-term.

How did you approach writing about wildfowling in a way that is accessible to both seasoned shooters and those unfamiliar with the sport?

Wildfowling is a minority sport with a capital M. I hadn’t deemed it to be a hunting story; I’m hopeful country folk of all ages will find some resonance in it. More importantly, if someone unfamiliar with the countryside picks up my story for 50p in a charity shop, I’ll be happy.

Were there any stories that were particularly emotional or challenging to revisit as you wrote the book?

To be honest, asking that question matters; without repeating myself, it turned into a crusade to salute all the people in the story.

What do you hope readers - whether wildfowlers or not - will take away from Between the Tides?

Clearly I’m not a professional writer, so I won’t be judged on my literacy. Wrongly or rightly, my views are an honest opinion, things I’ve witnessed, places I’ve seen. My hope is that will show through.