h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The Dart is stunningly beautiful throughout the whole of its length, and inspires a deep love in those that know it, yet the folklore that surrounds it is very dark.

It rises in the bleakness of Dartmoor, then winds through steeply wooded valleys, becoming tidal at Totnes and meeting the sea at Dartmouth Castle. The river still supports a few traditional salmon fishermen, but the main trade today is pleasure trips and visiting yachts; occasional warships and cruise liners still visit Dartmouth, but timber ships no longer navigate the tortuous channel to Totnes. Even today the river dominates life in its lower reaches as there is no bridge below Totnes, and the only way to cross is by one of four ferries.

The name comes from the old Celtic word for oak, and the river is unusual in being considered masculine. Local people are still quietly very superstitious about the river; I was taught as a child to 'Love the Dart, respect the Dart, but never ever trust the Dart'. Everybody in the area knows - and I suspect believes - the old rhyme which in one form begins:
Dart, cruel Dart,
Must take each year
at least one heart.
I can say in all honesty that I cannot recall a year in which the Dart has failed to claim his grim tribute.