Fiddlers Ferry Power Station - Widnes

Power stations, to me, are in the top-tier category within British urban exploration. They remind me a lot of asylums—not in a physical sense, but in the feeling that you're experiencing something that’s the last of its kind and won’t come around again. With the current government's questionable goal of a net-zero Britain, these goliaths of industry will soon vanish into memory. In fact, while writing this, the last UK coal-fired power station has officially closed and begun its decommissioning phase.

I saw a lot of people trying this during COVID, and after a cable thief was caught on site with bolt cutters while the place was still connected to the grid, security measures were cranked up to ten. A rapid police response to potential intruders was implemented, and even the locals would report cars parked along the street if they suspected trespassing intentions.

I decided it was best to wait for things to calm down a bit. The plans for blowing up the buildings and chimneys hadn’t come to fruition yet, so it wasn’t going to be missed either way. The first visit went without a hitch—it seemed almost too easy. Access was straightforward, and there was no visible security presence. It appeared that after scaring off would-be explorers in 2020, they’d become a bit complacent. Even their patrols were nearly non-existent.

It wasn’t long before we found ourselves within the confines of the turbine hall and began to explore the site in relative peace. At one point, we were high up on the crane gantry when someone below somehow accidentally made a loud noise—so loud, in fact, that we decided to hang back for ten minutes to see if our presence had been detected. A few minutes later, a curious-looking bloke in a hi-vis slammed open a door on ground level and began looking around. He only stayed for a few moments before heading back out, leaving the door open—presumably so he could listen for any more irregular loud noises.

We headed to the back of the turbine hall and down to ground level, taking in the pulverisers on our way. We had already covered many of the main buildings on site, including the coal conveyors during our initial approach, but we had our eyes set on the chimney as our main objective. Any external entry points from surrounding pipework didn’t look promising, and as expected, all ground-level windows and doors were securely sealed. There was a small slit a few metres above the door that we all agreed was too small for a person to fit through.

It wasn’t until I got home and was stewing over my photos in disappointment at not cracking the chimney that I noticed the slit looked bigger than we originally thought. After discussing with the others, we decided it was at least worth reassessing in person. Hoping it wasn’t just a trick of the camera lens, we headed back a few weeks later to give it another try.

Upon arriving on site, the old entrance had been patched, and patrol cars were doing regular rounds roughly every half hour. Nevertheless, we made it inside and took the usual route through the turbine hall to show a fellow explorer the highlights, as it was their first time. After a somewhat rushed guided tour of the good stuff, we found our way to the base of the chimney, pleased to see that, with a bit of effort and a lot of bending, we might just be able to squeeze through.

We sorted a makeshift step and pushed on through. Due to the height and awkward angle, it was a case of going in feet first, hoping your back wouldn’t break and your feet would catch on something to stop the fall. A few cuts and bruises later, we were all surprisingly inside in one piece. Once inside the coal-dust-coated chimney, we began the long climb up.

There were windows every few floors that let in a powerful but much-needed cool breeze, and with each one we stopped at, the height became more impressive. We were eventually rewarded with daylight at the top stairwell, indicating that the external door had been left open and the views did not disappoint. We spent a good hour or so up there taking photos and keeping an eye on the security patrol below, who we seemed to have evaded successfully.

I saw a video months later of another group who had done the same thing but were spotted and waited up top for a police officer to come barging through the top door, not a wise move.

History

“Fiddler’s Ferry Power Station was a large coal-fired power plant located on the River Mersey near Widnes, Cheshire, England. Commissioned in 1971 and operated by SSE (Scottish and Southern Energy) in its final years, the station had an installed capacity of 1,989 megawatts (MW), making it one of the most powerful coal-fired stations in the UK during its operational peak. The site featured a 200-metre-high chimney and eight cooling towers, which became iconic features of the North West’s industrial skyline. Fiddler’s Ferry consumed approximately 16,000 tonnes of coal per day at full output, largely sourced from UK coalfields and imported supplies. It played a key role in stabilizing the UK electricity grid, particularly during winter peak demands. However, due to the UK government's strategy to phase out unabated coal generation by 2024 in favor of cleaner energy, the plant was officially decommissioned in March 2020 after nearly 50 years in operation. Demolition of the plant began soon after, with the cooling towers and chimney scheduled for phased demolition using controlled explosive methods. The 830-acre site is now the focus of a large-scale redevelopment project led by Peel NRE and other partners, with proposals including logistics and industrial space, energy infrastructure, and up to 1,700 new homes, transforming the former coal hub into a modern mixed-use development aligned with the UK’s low-carbon goals”.