8th September 2023
A little over a year ago, the BBC’s Look East regional news program featured an item on Longstanton’s depleted groundwater. Part of that broadcast featured the plight of nursery owner Clive Hayden, who operates the Larksfield nursery on Rampton Road. A year on, I went back to see Clive and find out how he’s managed. The picture is not a rosy one.
Clive’s well is key to his operation. He has an abstraction licence entitling him to take water from the underlying aquifer. The top of the well is officially at a height above sea level of 9.7 metres – about the same as the Kingfisher Pond and most of Longstanton north of All Saints Church. The well is a circular hole in the ground, brick-lined, about ten feet deep. A pump conveys water from the well through a pipe to a holding tank. From there, it is distributed to the fields and green houses. In normal times, explains Clive, the water in the well is about six feet deep, though, of course, there is a seasonal variation. Even in the summer there should be about three feet of water. And what is the depth now, I ask. “About a foot”, he replies. “I never used to need to measure it. The well was slow to empty and quick to recharge. Now it’s the opposite.”
He demonstrates just what that means in practical terms. In the past, he has been able to refill his holding tank more or less as required, Just turn on the pump, fill the tank; job done. Now, the pump only operates for a couple of minutes before the well is effectively empty and the pump cuts out automatically. It then takes a considerable time before the aquifer recovers its level, allowing the pump to start again. This severely limits the amount of water that can be abstracted in any given period of time, making it impossible to keep the holding tank filled and provide regular irrigation to the crops.
Peering into the well it is clear that the water level is currently about 3 metres below the top. Given that the top of the well is at 9.7 metres, that suggests that the water in the aquifer tops out somewhere between 6.5 and 7 metres. It is surely no coincidence that that is also the level of the water in the Northstowe phase 1 lake.
Clive’s nursery is a mixture of glass greenhouses, others covered in clear polyethylene sheet, like polytunnels, and open areas. The poly-covered structures have mostly been stripped back to make best use of the occasional rain shower and in the glassed areas, sprinkler irrigation has been replaced by a network of fine pipes that distribute the minimal amount of water when it is available.
The soil resembles the concrete that is currently causing so much trouble in our public buildings. It is hard and dry, and too solid to crumble easily in your hand. “Normally, I’d rotovate it to prepare it for each new crop, but I can’t get the rotovator through it any more”, says Clive.
“All the trees on my boundary are gone. They were established when the water level was higher and when the level dropped, they had no water.”
The greenhouses, for the most part, are a sorry site. One contains hydrangeas, the flowers dry and dead, no doubt to be used for seed. The other side on the greenhouse contains a flourishing, healthy green crop. “What’s that? I ask. “It seems to be growing well”. “It’s a weed,” replies Clive. “That stuff’ll grow anywhere…”
Elsewhere, one greenhouse contains flowers. “Normally, I’d have two crops of flowers a year; now I can only do one. These are for Christmas”. I also ask about an area that looks like a meadow. “That’s ornamental grass”, I’m told. “It’s used in bouquets. Supermarkets sell it.” Indeed, during my visit a van arrives to load up a couple of dozen boxes of ornamental grass.
There is a small field of sweet corn, but the kernels are undersized. The greenest area is where the strawberries and raspberries have been growing, but the strawberries are long finished and the raspberries coming to the end of their season.
What has this done to the business, economically? “Turnover,” explains Clive “is down about 50%”. Where he used to get two crops he now gets one. The raspberries are down to 25% of their former level. Is it still viable as a business? “Well, I’ve got my pension now,” says Clive. “That helps. And I’ve been here a long time. You can’t just let it go.”