In a little patch of woodland overlooking the harbour, where at low tide the horses and lorries go out to cart away the mud shingle, stands the tower of its old church. It is shored up by buttresses, and has little round-headed windows and a doorway through which no bell ringer passes in now. Yet, though no services are held within, it renders service to others still, for it is a landmark which sailors have known about 700 years, and its seaward side is kept white for their sakes.

Some way from the village is the church rebuilt in the 18th century on the site of one consecrated in 1719. In the chancel is a tablet flanked by the emblem of Roman law to the memory of a judge who died in 1814, and another decked with flags and arms of
his son, who, after coming safely through many battles, was killed at Waterloo.

Text courtesy of: Southern Life (UK)