In 1984 the frigate, HMS Belfast, was being towed beneath us on her last voyage up the river Thames towards the Tower into retirement as a museum ship. The warehouses and docks, that she had just sailed past, were also, in effect, museums. The huge enterprise, which had once been the London Docks, had become out-dated and could no longer compete with more efficient facilities alongside deeper water. In the dock area over 40% of its potential workforce was unemployed. It was said that the people had too many roots, in the area, to move outside. That morning a cab driver had refused to take us to the Isle of Dogs which, he considered, to be too great a risk. In the circumstances, we were keen to adopt the philosophy of the recently established London Docklands Development Corporation that the only way out was the building of a new huge development that befited the 1980's and that would bring in new people who would create jobs and spend money which would rejuvinate the Docklands area. We could join this effort by creating an environment which would provide good housing which people starting businesses could afford.

The LDDC officer was sitting next to us in the helicopter pointing out to us the empty docks, derelict sites, abandoned embankments with large, but silent, cranes all in the middle of no-where. This must become a city of the future. We recalled the cab driver who had refused to take us to Docklands. We didn't know it then, but it would take more than seven years before there would be a taxi rank below us. The LDDC officer showed us the yellow squares of new sand that had been spread over the sites where the LDDC had removed old buildings to make the them ready for new buildings. Sand was spread over the past to start a future. The previous visits taught us that most of the buildings in east London had turned their back to the river, as if the river should be ignored. High embankments, high walls and mud almost everywhere, was not an attractive sight. The history of east London explained a lot about this attitude towards the river. If this place was to be part of the future it should look on to a clean and healthy river and be in touch with the water and not separated by fences and high walls.

On the old map of the Isle of Dogs we noticed a peat swamp. Normally, a lower place along-side the river, where, in the past it was easy to tow your boat in and out of the water. That's the place, we explained to the LDDC officer, that we wanted to see. Flying over it, it was unrecognisable from the old map. The past had been overlaid by land fill and old warehouses but we could see that just in front of this site, the river was not muddy but had dumped her sand and gravel. Or, was it spilt sand in front of the site? Next morning we went to the shore line. The old slipway made it easy to reach the water. We took a handful of wet sand from the bottom and smelled and tasted it. It taught us that it had been carried there by the river over many years. Now we knew that we could take away the vertical wall and design a nice step-down terrace to the river for over 120 yards. The LDDC officer looked amazed at his sand eating visitors but a week later we agreed a contract for one of the very first developments on the Isle of Dogs.

The next step was the design of the development plan. How to offer a splendid river view from the apartments. Only the first row of buildings could enjoy the sunrise in the east above the river and the evening light on the opposite riverside. It forced us to create another environment for the dwellings behind the first row that at least could be attractive. We found the solution when the engineering staff of the LDDC advised us that we had to spend a couple of million pounds to construct a kind of concrete tank to store the rain water in case the water level on the river was too high to drain the rainwater from the development. This was a black day for us. A reservoir would not only cost too much money to be able to keep the prices low but it would also take up a lot of expensive space where no houses could be constructed. Why such a concrete monster? At home, storing rainwater had been a daily practice for at least a thousand years. There the rain fell on land below sea level. In early days the windmills had to keep us dry, even without wind. For those circumstances large open water stores were created. Now, those water areas are beautiful and people love to live around them. We should not build a tank but a pond with greenery, flowers and ducks. With very slow slopes, the rainwater absorption would not cause an unpleasant rise of the water level in the pond. We asked the LDDC for permission to store the water in the open air as part of the landscaping. The permission was granted; the black day ended with a blue sky.

The bottom of the pond was designed with a watertight membrane. This membrane had a habit of sometimes rising above the water level. Engineers thought that methane gas was the cause of the big bubbles and, as a result, tubes were placed through the membrane to release the gas. We still believe that it might be possible that the cause is the same as in our country. In winter the water temperature of the groundwater beneath the membrane is different from the water temperature in the pond and causes very small differences in pressure against the membrane such that it is enough to let the membrane slowly rise. A thin layer of stones on the bottom and slopes will stop this movement. The methane will vaporise elsewhere.

Having created houses around a pond we were left with the last row alongside Manchester Road. What could we offer? What could compete with an apartment with a river view or a townhouse overlooking a landscaped pond? A house with a garden. So we planned houses with private gardens. The LDDC approved the plan with the condition that we build shops. We did not support that idea. It is common knowledge that shops should be concentrated in larger numbers and not spread. But we had no choice. So, we decided that the best of all bad places was along the road which connected Manchester Road with the slipway. This road was the most 'public' one of the whole development. Some business activities do not need a concentrated shopping area. Eventually, they will find London Yard.

We had planning permission, but we were still in the middle of an empty area. We contracted the impressive architect BDP, the professional engineers Ove Arup, the well known contractor Laing and many other established British firms to be sure that nothing went wrong. But it went wrong on the third day of piling. Piles were used to build on the hard layers beneath the peat. But on the third day the piles went everywhere except in the place where they should be. Some force beneath the surface bounced the piles in their ropes. Heavy, very old, wooden foundations were hidden by the nice clean layer of sand which the LDDC had spread over the past. The wood was not rotten because deep down they were not exposed to oxygen. They were still strong very large and still flexible. They had to be removed completely like the old teeth of a giant. The LDDC was supportive and helped us to solve the complex problem of changing the development plan, reshaping the pile arrangements and removing the obstacles. So we started to spend our first money on "unforeseen" items. But, London Yard became reality and I will never forget the first mother with child sitting on the steps alongside the water while the contractor was still building the waterfront apartments.

We never did get an answer to our request for a direct connection with Dockland Light Railway station. We were delighted to spend some money to make a safe separation between the schoolchildren and the public walkway. Investing in public transport is one thing, making it difficult to get to makes it nothing. We hope that one day this will be corrected and give the people more joy to live in London Yard. We were, however, happy that the local authorities recognised the contribution of the flying Dutchmen to the development of London Yard by agreeing to give its streets Dutch names.