Reclaiming Wetlands
Govan Docks Collective
I arranged to meet Iona, the driving force behind the Govan Docks Collective, at Govan Cross on what turned out to be a rare dry Sunday afternoon in February. I headed down a little early to have a look at how the construction of a new bridge over the Clyde. Passing the boarded up windows of an old Bank of Scotland building, I turned off the main road and pulled into the shadow of a tower of green and grey scaffolding.
Nine storeys of new townhouses are being built on a car park that regularly hosted a small market and car boot sale on the weekends. The new development is drastically changing the geography of the small square in front of a church and cafe, blocking the view of the river and the Transport Museum beyond.
Hanging on the fence that protects the construction of the flats, a sign celebrates 50 years of Govan Housing Association. A woman wearing a black parka settles down on a bench in front of the new buildings to feed the pigeons. They flock around the woman, edging closer and closer, finally one settles on her shoulder another on her white bobble hat and feeds from her hands.
Across the road the statue of Mary Barbour and her rent strike army guard the entrance to a large grey panelled subway station and bus terminal. Metal benches with legs bent and twisted out of shape lay scattered on an open area of large peach coloured paving stones.
An eerie quiet moment passes as I wait, the silence broken only by the passing of a police van that’s been circling the area. The number 3 bus pulls in behind me, passengers shuffle off, spreading out in different directions, the driver turns off the engine before running off in the direction of the shopping centre presumably to use the amenities after the long journey across the city.
Iona appears suddenly, greeting me warmly as she leads me off in the direction of the docks. I stare up at a large mural of a young blonde haired girl looking over a small community allotment, Iona catches me slightly off guard by asking what I think of it? Not wanting to offend, I say it’s nice, she tells me she doesn’t think it presents a true reflection of the area.
Turning off the main road we walk between a small housing estate on our left, a complex of 4 storey grey roughcast buildings, a blue and yellow all weather multi purpose sports pitch on our left, and a long row of industrial units on our right. Ahead is an endless stretch of 6ft tall metal fencing decorated by 3 rows of barbed wire marking the boundary of the docks area.
Peeking through gaps in the fence I can see a wooden sign with the words ‘Govan Wetlands’ hand painted, on the makeshift crossbar. A little further in the distance, right in the middle of the dock area, stands an ancient looking stone building. I ask Iona the story behind the wetlands and what happened to the £2.4 million that the Scottish Government had awarded as a restoration fund.
She explains that the organisation behind the proposed construction of around 304 new homes on the site, had been awarded the government funding and that previously, they had funded the wetlands project as part of a public relations exercise. Govan Wetlands she tells me, didn’t last long.
The project began around the same time as the city hosted COP 26 in late 2021, their last post on Facebook was only months later. In June 2022 the International Union for the Conservation of Nature awarded the company behind the project, around £10k to build an Urban Farm on the site. A video outlining their award, boasts of creating 10 new businesses, 14 new jobs and 50 training workshops for people in the area. We reach the main gate that until recently took you out onto the docks, now padlocked and adorned with large signs warning you of guard dogs patrolling the area.
Standing at the entrance, looking through the fence we can see the walls of the old docks themselves, adorned and decorated by countless graffiti artists. They stretch East out towards the Science and Exhibition centres. Huge structures of metal and white roofs built on land reclaimed from land which once were docks themselves.
The police van once again roars past on an endless circuit of the community. I ask Iona about another group actively involved in trying to preserve the docks for community use. The Clyde Docks Preservation Initiative is a research initiative focussed on the protection and promotion of maritime heritage along the River Clyde. Iona speaks warmly about the CDPI and that they have slightly different ideas of what the area could be used for, but that they have built a good working relationship over time.
Walking back out onto the main road and down toward the science centre to have a better look at the docks from a different angle. I want to know more about how the community had used the area before the fences and barbed wire went up.
Living locally the docks provided Iona and the local community the opportunity during lockdown to get out of the house and stretch her legs. Describing the building in the middle of the docks as beautiful, Iona talks me through the how it could be repurposed into a social space and hub for a variety of projects. If owned and controlled by the community it would become the base for anything they wanted to do, the barrier of course, would be funding to restore and maintain it.
A little further round the bend and through two stone pillars, white railings ensuring no-one rolls down the gentle hill and into the water below, large evergreen bushes are clustered at various points along the water's edge. A face appears from behind a bush then the sound of murmured voices, confident we were not the circling police or had any interest in moving them on, we were granted a pass to edge closer to the front of the docks.
The docks were somewhere for young people to get away from it all and spend time in each other's company. Preventing access has closed off a huge physical space for young people to congregate. Walking back towards Govan cross taking a detour through the local housing estate and past groups of young men in black tracksuits standing idly at the entrances and around spare ground.
Making eye contact I greet them as a pass, receiving a nod and a quick alright mate as they move to let us by, it is clear these aren’t bad kids, just bored. Our route takes us to a huge open space in the middle of the scheme, where blocks of old tenement flats once stood. Now piles of fly tipping, a fridge, rubble and the odd mattress decorate the landscape as younger boys kick a ball about the wasteland, dreaming of one day playing at Ibrox stadium, now visible in the near distance.
Asking Iona how long she’s lived in Govan and what she’s seen change in that time. She shares that her first home was at the opposite end of the old burgh, through the years her family moved to a more central area in Govan and when she was old enough to move out, she managed to secure a housing association flat close to the docks. Just as she begins to tell me how Govan has become a much safer area, our new friends in the police van crawl past, its occupants wondering what we are up to, as much as we are wondering what they are doing.
Iona turns back towards the docks wanting to show me where they held recent open air events, raising awareness and engaging the local area on the issue of the docks. We weave our way through families adorned in red, white and blue realising only then that Rangers must be playing at home, partly explaining the ongoing police presence.
Arriving at a long grassy park behind a row of tenements, Iona talks me through some of the events held here after the gates to the docks were locked. At the far end of the grassy meadow a small orchard is fenced off behind the small row of shops. Planted as part of another COP26 legacy project, the bare branches now seem sullen, lonely and neglected.
For Iona the Independence campaign in 2014 enabled a sense of agency and belief among working class people, and she believes that energy could be found again if channelled into local issues. Seeing the top of cranes working on the new bridge over the Clyde we take one final detour.
Entering the myriad of paths and lanes between the flats and houses, the police who have been our most regular feature of the day, have finally found an excuse to get out of their van, their doors open and lights flashing, we can’t quite see the cause of the commotion, but decide to stay clear and walk out to the riverfront. From here we finally have a clear view across the water, directly opposite an old sail ship parked outside the futuristic transport museum. A long white bridge at an awkward angle is perched on supports in the middle of the river.
I’m preparing myself for the gentrification that will come, she tells me. Pointing further down river she points out the site of an old granary, now the home of the Glasgow Harbour complex. Following the Grenfell fire, it was discovered that the flats in the Harbour complex had been constructed with the same flammable materials. This meant that round the clock fire wardens had to be deployed. The developer Taylor Wimpey eventually agreed to carry out the work estimated to cost around £10m, although only after intervention from the Scottish Government following fears that residents would have to pay around £30k each.
Metal fencing and barbed wire again prevents access from the riverside back towards the docks. A long walled embankment stretches out into the river, Iona describes how once whilst walking out to the very edge of the wall and sitting, feet dangling over the edge she once spotted seals swimming up river.
Standing with my head through a gap in the fence, evidence of the aborted urban wetland farm can be seen stretching along the embankments. I close my eyes, breathe in the smell of the water, allowing the cold air to chill my skin. I notice for the first time the absolute silence around me.
Opening my eyes and looking back up river, past the exhibition centre, the squinty bridge, trying to pull a picture from memory of the new developments on the Broomielaw, under the Kingston Bridge and up to the new Barclay’s building.
Land along the river has suffered from underdevelopment, it has become common belief that land banking has long been tolerated. Now that it is all changing, Iona, the Govan Docks Collective and many others are worried about access to the river being further restricted from those who live there. In a world where working class communities are working longer and harder for a lesser return on their pay, access to somewhere tranquil on their doorstep will only become more valuable for those that need it, than the flats estimated to cost around £400k when completed.
Development, housing and the environment have all become big ticket issues in the upcoming election, but will those hopeful of becoming the city’s representatives take heed from campaigners like Iona, and focus on the local issues giving agency and purpose to their constituents and their constituencies, or will they be dragged further from the people they represent. Granting planning permission for international capital to continue land banking and indulging in public relations exercises, that facilitate the potential for displacement and gentrification?
