Sea kayaking only has one essential skill; the ability to judge when a trip is good to go, and when it is not.
Archive for November, 2007
At work today, a Sixth Form student approached me and asked me to answer a simple question for a survey she was carrying out,
‘For what reasons do you do your chosen sport?’
Bournemouth Pier and Boscombe Pier both date from the nineteenth century and are fine examples of our seaside architecture heritage. They are only a mile apart.
Bournemouth Pier is the bustling centrepiece of Bournemouth’s continuing economic success story; the tourist resort has reinvented itself as a banking hub, conference centre, foreign language student community etc. etc.
Boscombe Pier’s fortunes reflect this subsidiary town’s ongoing decline … the decaying pier’s end has been closed since the ’80s and many of the nearby houses became run-down hostels for Boscombe’s numerous victims of drug addiction and prostitution. However, redevelopment work is afoot to bring the area around the pier back to life. This work has sadly necessitated truncating the pier, but it also involves building the UK’s first(?) artificial surf reef.
I lived a mile east along the coast from Boscombe Pier for some years, and taught local children. I do hope that the Boscombe Pier development can turn Boscombe’s fate around. This newspaper report seems to suggest that it is already happening, but note the comments added to the article …
The superbly clear, accessible and accurate maps in Pesda Press’s guidebooks are produced up in Scotland, on the Isle of Bute. Don Williams of Bute Cartographics has won awards from the Society of Cartographers. I’m quite excited to say that he’ll shortly be commencing work on the 50 or so maps for South West Sea Kayaking. The weak link in the process is that he has to work from my idiot scribblings.
Way back, I did a rough guesstimate and figured that the book covered about 972 km of paddling. The actual final figure is … well, I can’t be bothered to go through the chapters and add it all up right now, life is too short. For a bit of work avoidance this morning (as a diversion from annotating lifeboat and Coastwatch stations on maps) I did however play around with Memory Map and do some measuring. I found that I’ve paddled at least 1100 km around the South West coast this year. That isn’t a particularly remarkable figure, but I was interested to note that the majority of trips were short; 16km in length, or less. In the past, my sea trips have usually involved pointing from one headland to another, clocking up longish daily mileages, all on my lonesome.
Paddle shorter distances, with friends - see more, have more fun.
Off out paddling again this weekend. I could only put Bournemouth Bay off for so long …
Tomorrow is a truly auspicious day; the 60th Wedding Anniversary of Her Majesty the Queen and HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh. Congratulations, good for them! No, I’m serious, our Monarchy is a Good Thing. If we get rid of our Head of State, then what’s the point of being British? We may as well all put on our baseball caps and become the 51st State, right away.
Queen Elizabeth II’s great-great-grandmother was Queen Victoria. With her husband Albert, in 1845 she bought an estate on the Isle of Wight overlooking the Solent. Osbourne House was built as a family home rather than a palace, but the distinction might be lost on anyone visiting the place today. Albert dictated the decoration according to his taste for opulent bad art with Classical pretensions. After his death in 1861, the mourning Queen decorated Osbourne further, with paintings and sculptures of children, kittens and puppies that would make Athena blush. A notable exception is the wonderful Durbar Room, designed by Indian architects to reflect Victoria’s status as Empress of India.
After her death in 1901, ships of the Royal Navy formed parallel lines right across the Solent, to escort her funeral procession to the mainland.
Victoria was Britain’s longest reigning monarch. Elizabeth II has to reign another eight years to catch up with her. Long live our noble Queen.
It’s been some weeks since I touched a boat, so it was pleasant today to get out on the water. We were joined by John Gilmour, whom we haven’t seen since before the summer, when he got a proper job.
Our normally busy local waters were unusually empty and quiet, it being November and all that. We told tall stories of our summer adventures, met a guillemot in its winter plumage, explored the amazing stacks between Swanage and Studland, squeezed through tunnels, planned future trips, huddled in a cave at Old Harry Rocks and finally sipped tea at the best little beach cafe in the world. Then we turned around and did it all over again, in reverse.
It’s a lichen. It’s yellow.
‘I do not think the Bristol Channel at all suited for the amateur cruiser.
The tides are too strong, the harbours but poor ones, and the traffic too busy. The prevailing winds also blow up and down, and the seas are choppy and heavy’
- from Sailing Tours Part IV, Land’s End to the Mull of Galloway, 1895, Frank Cowper.
As the winter’s river paddling seems to have failed to materialise (due to a complete lack of rain in the South West), I’ve got an excuse to spend the weekend working on the book, again. This’d be the book I already finished, some time back. I keep finding myself re-visiting things I’ve already done. One of these days I’ll break the compulsion and mail it all off to the editors. Soon. Probably.
Tor Bay in Devon is an odd place from the environmental point of view. There are plenty of interesting coastal landforms here, but also sprawling holiday resorts like Torquay and various unwelcome concrete encroachments on the coast.
However, the area has just received Geopark status, a UNESCO designation. This will hopefully protect and preserve Tor Bay from further desecration.
“Well, may I ask what you expected to see out of a Torquay hotel bedroom window? Sydney Opera House perhaps? The Hanging Gardens of Babylon? Herds of wildebeest sweeping majestically across the plain…” - Basil Fawlty
No seafaring this weekend. We spent it celebrating my Dad’s 60th birthday. He is going to try and walk 60 miles on his actual birthday this week, good luck Dad!
This was all happening three miles from England’s most inland spot, at the house where I grew up. I actually learned to paddle on canals, with kids throwing breeze blocks at us out of the windows of ruined warehouses. I don’t exactly have a salty maritime background …
PS I was fortunate enough to win this. Grateful thanks to all who voted!
Newlyn is located in Mount’s Bay, South Cornwall. With a fleet of over 100 working boats, Newlyn is the largest fishing port in England and Wales. 9500 tonnes of fish are landed annually, only 30% of which are eaten in Cornwall.
If you are masochistic, the daily landings and auction can be watched at around 7am. Even more masochistic people may wish to visit the Pilchard Works Museum.
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