five o'clock in the morning
Once outside , I set a course down stream as close to the northern shore as I dared go . Except for a rusty-looking steam tramp we had the whole river to ourselves , not even a solitary barge breaking the long stretch of grey water . One by one the old landmarks -- Mucking Lighthouse , the Thames Cattle Wharf , and Hole Haven -- were left behind , and at last the entrance to the creek that runs round behind Canvey Island came into sight . One would never accuse it of being a cheerful , bustling sort of place at the best of times , but at five o'clock in the morning it seemed the very picture of uninhabited desolation . A better locality in which to enjoy a little quiet practice with new explosives it would be difficult to imagine . I navigated the _ Betty _ in rather gingerly , for it was over three years since I had visited the spot . Joyce kept on sounding diligently with the lead either side of the boat , and at last we brought up in about one and a half fathom , just comfortably out of sight of the main stream .