Sunday 8th September and dawn breaks over the horizon at Clovelly harbour. The weather . . . and sea state too. . . are variable. With Skipper, Clive, in charge we head out to Lundy island. Our route takes us down the coast, chased by frequent rain storms, past geologically incredible cliff formations to a clear view of Hartland Point and its own cliffs and light house. It was a relief to motor into the lee of Lundy Island itself and a calm mooring. I'd missed a fried breakfast in the Island's only pub by 35 minutes . . . . I missed lunch time too. Thank goodness for a flask of soup and a handful of raisins I say. I spent most of my day dodging the showers and wearing waterproofs. I visited Battery Point, the castle, the old lighthouse, the smugglers cave and the shop . . . which was also closed as I had not observed the opening times. Sometimes I took off the waterproofs to enjoy a bit of Sun and freedom. . . . it was not easy as I am no yogi and reaching the feet to remove waterproofs that had decided they liked where they were. As I began to sense success, cramp struck my landlubber leg muscles and by the time I'd actually taken off the waterproofs it was threatening rain again. You could see the rain coming for miles . . . and sometimes miles of it too.
I had some great conversations with my fellow travellers and people on the island, all lovely people. I had been early at Clovelly and was early back to the boat for the return trip. The sea looked calm, all was well. How deceiving such a view and such an idea can be !Once out of the shelter offered by Lundy the waves picked up. Choppy they were with almost little pattern to them except for the pattern that went up and down.The little boat rolled startlingly and that was like a little taster for the rest of the trip, we even had to rest in neutral at one point to pull the dingy aboard as its presence in tow was becoming less and less adviseable. How Clive did it on his own is a story of amazement in itself, as while not under power it was the sea that decided where and how we would move. Many times sea water came over the cabin roof and into the open rear deck. That's where I sat, and I wouldn't have changed it for the world, I saw everything , the big holes that appeared in the sea the great lumps of sea that tried to escape skywards but fell back to be lost forever. There was excitement and danger aplenty but tempered by the presence of the skills and knowledge of a brilliant skipper. . . so it was hard to be afraid but easy to be in awe. Clovelly harbour was like a mill pond when we returned. It was the bit inbetween I shall treasure. . . absolutely brilliant.
I had some great conversations with my fellow travellers and people on the island, all lovely people. I had been early at Clovelly and was early back to the boat for the return trip. The sea looked calm, all was well. How deceiving such a view and such an idea can be !Once out of the shelter offered by Lundy the waves picked up. Choppy they were with almost little pattern to them except for the pattern that went up and down.The little boat rolled startlingly and that was like a little taster for the rest of the trip, we even had to rest in neutral at one point to pull the dingy aboard as its presence in tow was becoming less and less adviseable. How Clive did it on his own is a story of amazement in itself, as while not under power it was the sea that decided where and how we would move. Many times sea water came over the cabin roof and into the open rear deck. That's where I sat, and I wouldn't have changed it for the world, I saw everything , the big holes that appeared in the sea the great lumps of sea that tried to escape skywards but fell back to be lost forever. There was excitement and danger aplenty but tempered by the presence of the skills and knowledge of a brilliant skipper. . . so it was hard to be afraid but easy to be in awe. Clovelly harbour was like a mill pond when we returned. It was the bit inbetween I shall treasure. . . absolutely brilliant.
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