
Many congratulations to our friends Mark and Maria, who were married today at Poole RNLI Headquarters…

Many congratulations to our friends Mark and Maria, who were married today at Poole RNLI Headquarters…

After a scorchingly hot day spent stuck indoors at work, a trip to Kimmeridge to show little E the sea was just the ticket.

This evening saw the inaugural paddling trip of a new social paddling group, the Purbeck Sea Kayakers. The intent is pretty simple; to get a few paddlers together for a bimble on Tuesday evenings, and maybe on occasion at other times too.
The group on this evening consisted of, um, just me. A few folk had cried off and so I found myself out off Durlston Head on my own, with the guillemots to keep me company instead of fellow paddlers. All pleasant enough, but if you fancy joining us/ me for the next paddle, have a look here…

I came home from work today via a rather long and circuitous route incorporating the Poole Harbour ferry. As it was a gloriously warm and sunny day, I unanimously voted myself an ice cream stop at a viewpoint overlooking the harbour.
All good.

These have been exceedingly interesting and busy times lately, all in a very positive way. For a breath of fresh air and to clear my head, I just headed up to St Alban’s Head, a dramatic limestone promontory just a few miles south of my house. The headland is always something of a wildlife bonanza…I once followed an indifferent badger for half a mile along the coast path here, and Mrs R came face to face with a school of dolphins whilst camping at the water’s edge.
On this evening, I saw a hare bounding along, then a deer galloping alongside through a cornfield, and then this fox cub nonchalantly carrying his lunch…all before I even got out of the car.








This is Ellen Islay Rainsley, our newest team member.
All good.

Port Ellen, Island of Islay. For part of last summer, this was our base for both work and play. All good.



Fulmars are from the Procellariidae family, also known as ‘tubenoses’. This is a reference to the nostril-like feature above their beaks. Offshore, they glide low above the water, stiff-winged and graceful, and it’s no surprise that they are related to albatrosses. Ashore, they are perhaps less endearing; one of their characteristics is to retch foul-smelling gloop at those who approach their nests. These images show fulmars of all ages and were taken in the islands of Orkney and Shetland. Incidentally, I do have some photos of fulmars taken right here on the Isle of Purbeck, but can’t for the life of me find them right now.
Fulmars seem to like investigating sea kayaks close up, circling repeatedly with low passes beneath the stern and bow. They have lifted our spirits many times whilst out on the water and tired, nervous or simply jaded. We have joked on occasion that each paddler has a ‘personal fulmar’ who looks out for them on the seas…










A friend and I looking down on the world, from high up on Purbeck’s coastal ridge yesterday morning.
All good.


Photo from a friend…shows me battling my way down to the surf at Saunton Beach a few weeks back, in the teeth of strong onshore gusts.

On a grim wet and windy day, and on a rather nicer evening…



It has been reported this week that basking sharks have begun to arrive off our shores already, this being relatively early; good news, given that they arrived in inexplicably limited numbers last year. Basking sharks (cetorhinus maximus) are the second largest fish on earth (after the whale shark), growing to ten metres long and seven tonnes in weight, and are frankly a wonder to behold close up. I’ve been lucky enough to paddle with them all over the UK’s Atlantic coasts, from Land’s End right up to Shetland. Canoe Kayak UK magazine have just posted up some excellent advice on encountering basking sharks. All informed advice sensibly suggests that kayakers and other water users should keep a good distance from basking sharks, but as these photos (taken near Cape Cornwall) demonstrate, the sharks haven’t always read the advice themselves; they have a disconcerting habit of coming over to investigate kayaks, even rubbing their dorsals on the hull!
A few notes on basking sharks, culled from my book work…
Basking sharks are actually harmless filter-feeders with miniscule teeth, posing no threat to humans.
Until 2003, it was speculated that basking sharks hibernated in winter. It is now known that they actually ‘go deep’ for much of this time, tracking plankton blooms for thousands of miles, up to 900 metres below the surface. The sharks arrive in the south-west in spring, travelling up the English Channel as far as Dorset, and the Atlantic coast as far as the Northern Isles and Norway by August. They cruise along the surface in sinuous curves at 3-4 kph, occasionally in ‘gams’ of up to a hundred. Hotspots where they congregate include the far west of Cornwall, the Isle of Man and the Scottish islands of Canna, Coll and Tiree.
From shore or boat on a calm day, you will spot the snout raised out of the water, followed by the dorsal fin and tail, all startlingly far from one another. The skin appears dark and leathery, being protected by ‘dermal denticles’, small sharp scales which also reduce drag. The mouth is easily visible underwater due to its enormous size; a metre in diameter opened out, flanked by somewhat primal looking gill flaps. The gills sieve up to 2000 cubic metres of water per hour through comb-like interlocking ‘gill rakes’, extracting oxygen and food. This giant feeds entirely on plankton, especially 1-2 mm long crustaceans called copepods. Buoyancy comes from the shark’s huge bi-lobal liver, making up around a third of its weight.
Basking sharks are occasionally less sedate; they have been seen breaching full length from the water! This behaviour is thought to be connected with either ridding parasites such as lampreys, or courting a mate.





I was kicking my heels around the house today, as I was meant to be paddling Devon’s rivers, making the best of the outrageously unseasonal rainfall we’re experiencing. However, a series of flashing lights and bleeping noises from the dashboard had quickly put paid to that plan, before I was even out of Purbeck. Tomorrow will involve a (presumably costly) trip to the garage.
All was not lost…the awful weather has arrived alongside an easterly gale. Once the rain and wind had eased a bit this afternoon, I loaded up my surfboard and coaxed the ailing automobile a few miles to Swanage Beach. Swanage rarely has surf, as it faces east up the English Channel, away from the prevailing Atlantic swell. Today however, it was working well enough at least to test my laughable surfing skills…repeatedly wiping out and swallowing half of the beach was a pleasantly humbling experience. I’m still snorting up sand right now. I was also bemused to find that I was sharing the line-up with a fair proportion of Year 10. Once I’d ordered them all home to do their homework, I had the waves to myself…








Exactly as advertised on the tin. Porth Clais, Pembrokeshire.




No idea who this fellow is, but when I spotted him in Pembrokeshire last week, I envied him.

A friend recovers from a long mountain bike ride from the highest point of Exmoor (Dunkery Beacon) down to sea level at Porlock Weir in Somerset. Rest he might, as this was his stag weekend and he just has a few frantic weeks left to prepare for his wedding. I’d planned the ride, and promised everyone that it was ‘downhill’. Indeed it was downhill, except for the bits that weren’t. There was a certain amount of mutinous whingeing amongst the team, but I tackled dissent by constantly riding ahead out of earshot of complaints, and by maintaining secure possession of the only map.
One stunning feature of Exmoor National Park is the way that – despite consisting of high moorland – the sea is always there, a long way below. We’ve paddled the awesome coast many times, peering up at some of Britain’s highest cliffs. Riding atop them was a new and memorable experience, and I will certainly be back for more soon.















Saunton in North Devon catches all swell from the west, and last Sunday was no exception; onshore winds made conditions rather mushy, however. We could only linger in the surf shops of nearby Braunton so long however, and eventually we all headed to Saunton Beach to paddle, surf, swim or drink coffee as suited. Some surfed sea kayaks, some surfed playboats. I myself dug out my surfboard, attempted to ignore the chilly waters and tried to recall how to stand up…











A friend standing atop a lime kiln at Porth Clais, Pembrokeshire, last week. The lime kiln depicted below is at Mouth Mill in North Devon.
Lime kilns are a common sight around our shores, recognisable as stone or brick built structures with a round interior and an open top. Most are nineteenth century constructions, although some on Cornwall’s Helford River date from 1580. They can be found everywhere from sheltered ports (e.g. Solva in Pembrokeshire and Beadnell in Northumberland), to inaccessible spots such as Heddon’s Mouth in North Devon, simply a rocky beach below 200m cliffs. The reason for their ubiquity was that lime products (lime mortar for building, and quicklime for acid soils) were needed everywhere, and that it was easiest to produce them ‘on site’.
Raw materials (limestone or chalk, plus coal for fuel) were dumped at the strand-line and carried to the kilns by packhorse. The limestone was shovelled into the top hole, and ‘draw holes’ at the base were used to control the temperature. One burning could produce quicklime sufficient for 5 acres.


These two folk are Michal and Natalie Madera, a Czech couple who live in London and are currently attempting to paddle around the UK. They paddled out of London two weeks ago, and they’ve since been battling April weather and chilly seas along the English Channel. They’ve been hereabouts on the Isle of Purbeck this weekend, and it’s been a pleasure to catch up with them and hear about their adventures.
They are raising money for a great cause; please take time to go read about their trip, follow their progress, and consider supporting their fundraising…








