This is a guest post from Suzanne Moore (Leysdown resident)
I’ve lived on the Isle of Sheppey all my 40-odd years—long enough to trot its beaches in wellies, scrunch my toes in the clifftop clay at Minster, and cop a cheeky wave from the tide while fishing at Warden Bay.
I thought I knew every pebble, story, and jetty around here.
Then I cracked open Isle of Sheppey Through Time by John Clancy and realised: I knew almost nothing at all.
The title didn’t exactly scream page-turner.
I expected something to stick on the coffee table and never open again, maybe impress a guest once a year. But this book? It caught me off guard in the best way.
It’s not a novel, and it doesn’t pretend to be.
Click the below image to buy the book on Amazon
It’s a photo-led look at how Sheppey has changed over the years—past and present photos placed side by side with little captions explaining what’s what.
Simple. But oddly addictive.
Think local time-travel, without the risk of being chased by Victorian sheep or slipping into a World War II air raid.
Take aviation, for example. I always thought Sheppey’s big three were: sheep, mud, and wind.
Turns out, it’s the birthplace of British aviation.
Yes, mate—our sleepy isle was once full of balloon flights, experimental aircraft, and Short Brothers’ biplanes zipping about. I genuinely laughed out loud reading that we once launched a pig in an aircraft before a human. Only on Sheppey, right?
The book also shines a light on places I thought I knew. Blue Town? These days, it’s more of a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it side street. But Clancy’s photos show it bustling with life back in the day—barrels, sailors, the lot. I nearly dropped my mug when I realised how lively it used to be. The contrast between past and present is part hilarious, part heartwarming.
Then there’s Minster Abbey, which I’ve walked past hundreds of times without paying it much attention. It turns out the arches and windows I barely noticed date back hundreds of years, each with its own quirky backstory.
And don’t get me started on the 1953 floods—I’d heard whispers growing up, but seeing the actual photos of what was lost hit differently. I suddenly felt like I owed my Nan an apology for all the times I rolled my eyes at her “in my day” stories.
What really works is that it doesn’t feel like homework.
You don’t have to slog through pages of academic waffle. Each photo comes with a short caption—enough to give you context and a smile, but not so much that you’re overwhelmed. It’s bite-sized learning, perfect for the Sheppey attention span (mine included).
Clancy clearly knows and loves the island, but he doesn’t sugarcoat it either. There’s affection, but there’s realism too. Some places haven’t aged gracefully. Others have improved beyond recognition. And sometimes, you just sit there squinting at a now-empty field and thinking, blimey, that used to be a cinema?
The book’s a bit like finding out your quiet uncle was in a rock band before settling down. It’s Sheppey’s version of a midlife revelation, captured in photo form.
And honestly, if you live here, or even have a cousin who once took a caravan holiday here—buy this book.
Not just because it’s full of cool trivia and time-warp photos, but because it’ll make you feel connected to the place in a way Google never could. It’s the sort of thing you leave on the table, and next thing you know, your mates are flicking through it saying, “Wait, that’s there?”
It’s affordable, easy to enjoy, and let’s face it—if we don’t support these kinds of books, we’ll forget all the mad, brilliant, slightly soggy things that made Sheppey what it is.
So no, I won’t pretend I’m now a walking Sheppey encyclopedia, but I definitely walk around with a bit more curiosity and respect for what’s under my feet. History’s funny like that—you don’t know you care until it slaps you in the face with a black-and-white photo and a pig in a plane.
Thanks, John Clancy. You’ve made me see my home in a completely different light. And you’ve given me plenty of Sheppey facts to bore people with at the pub. Mission accomplished.