Where is the sea? Where are the boats?

Midwinter. Even when firmly aground in the middle of England  a boatwif’s mind can drift to boats…  

Pre-Christmas, when choosing a Christmas tree at the farm right next to Stevington Windmill, boats were a factor when choosing a tree…

After all a tree must be strong enough to bear the weight of several ornamental boats (as well the new tree decorations acquired in post-Thanksgiving California).

The (now traditional) visit to the Chipping Norton pantomime in mid-December was to see Jack and the Beanstalk. The riotously funny tale of warring Vikings and Anglo-Saxons somehow concluded with the satisfying vision of two main characters sailing off to Scarborough together, in a boat. Aah!

There was a local road trip out to the cosy log cabin at Danish Camp  one December Saturday afternoon. Outside on the River Great Ouse the little day boats looked sad and cold; inside, however, there was a card to be delivered and a lunch, a mince pie and a laced coffee to be had. And a photo opp with Santa (aka proprietor Roy…)

Two days previously, the Cleddau crew had driven up the M1 to Crick Marina. A boat inspection was due. Had the leaky underbed calorifier (its skin split discovered in October) now been sorted out?

The answer was affirmative (thank you, Colin).

The damp mattress which had been left on end to dry out in October was put back on the bed base. All was well.

On Boxing Day it’s a family tradition to lace on the boots and go for a walk, whichever part of the country one is in. This year the Boxing Day tramp was around the hilltop at the RSPB site at Sandy. It was a foggy and muffled experience.

At one pause point Techno Son-in-Law tried out the seating, though it was hardly deckchair weather…

It was cold and dank, and on the little pond there was no sign of a boat…

A few days later, with clouds high in the sky, another hilltop walk beckoned. This was to Houghton House, an English Heritage site high above Marston Vale.

Down there is the Marston Millennium Country Park

– and further east, a “sea” of white buildings, an Amazon warehouse included.

January. True to Cleddau crew tradition there was a January theatre trip* to Stratford-upon-Avon.

Remember ‘the cold snap’ that froze much of England and Wales? In Stratford it was far too cold and slippery to walk beside the River Avon.  Summer time tourists no doubt appreciate an iced slushy drink, but in January the only ice to be seen was on the water in Bancroft Basin…

It was onwards then, to Wales, where there are sisters** to visit.

Out in the far south west there was one particular mission: an urge to visit Coppet Hall, scene of the earliest childhood memory.

 Information boards and diagrams refer to the area’s industrial history. Anthracite-carrying colliery trains from Stepaside used to run through the three tunnels between Saundersfoot and Wiseman’s Bridge. The tunnels, footpaths now, are clearly remembered.

There was the Coppet Hall beach, easily accessible by well-designed steps – but where was the sea? Mist and murk shrouded the seashore. It was an empty scene, with just faint shapes indicating rock outcrops.

On the eastern side was a new building, Lan y Mor, a modern restaurant, closed post-Christmas festivities for refurbishment. (See here for website. )

Just back from the car parking area is a building seared in the memory, its shape the same as decades before, the window frames white now, not green. It was here that as a very young child Boatwif was shocked by the man who emerged from the front door and wielded a very large stick to silence two wildly barking fighting dogs… Some memories resurface all too clearly.

Back through the tunnel then to Saundersfoot harbour; where was the sea? At low tide it was just visible.

The harbour, where in season sailing masts and rigging zing and jostle for attention, was empty of boats, apart from these two. 

But there is another “boat” to look at, a recent addition to the harbourside.

It is a “coastal schooner”, a full sized three-masted structure which houses an upper deck which can be used as a stage, masts that can be used for high rope climbing and a maritime heritage centre. See here for more detail.  There was no  activity to be observed on that cold dank term-time Tuesday. This impressive structure is an inspirational project which deserves high visitor numbers; here’s hoping the tourists and locals take it to their hearts.

Heading west round the coast Tenby’s famous harbour too was all but bereft of boats. Beachgoers and sea were absent too!

A day later the mist and murk had disappeared.  No trip to South Pembrokeshire is complete without a trip out to Freshwater West.

The tide was low. A vast expanse of sand, yellow in winter’s afternoon sun, stretched into the distance.

Far away a solo surfer trudged back from the waves. On this beautiful but treacherous beach solo surfing does not seem wise.

Could the tideline be reached on the eastern end of the beach? Rocks and pools prevented that route. Eventually, after a clamber over a pebble field, the stream that careers down the beach was crossed and the sand reached.

The sand, a self-coloured carpet, was patterned by wave markings and worm casts.

This huge Atlantic-facing beach isn’t one for boats – but dogs adore it!

So far few boats had been observed during this January jaunt.  Off then, over the Cleddau Bridge, to drive further west to stroll around Milford Haven Marina. Oh, there are plenty of boats in the marina, the wind whistling through the rigging of the masts.

There were decommissioned lifeboats, an in-use lifeboat, and a patrol boat.

Water was surging through the tidal lock between the docks and the Milford Haven estuary. Was silt being sucked out of the docks??

 On the other side of the Haven an emptied oil tanker was being readied for departure from the jetty at Valero Refinery.

A return an hour later over the Cleddau Bridge coincided with a glimpse of The Isle of Innisfree, the Irish ferry being prepared for her afternoon sailing back over to Rosslare.

So, an obvious conclusion, if you look hard enough, in the right places, there are boats to be seen!

Ten days later there was another Cleddau inspection. Crick Marina is packed with over-wintering narrow boats.

Cleddau was floating comfortably at rest on her pontoon. No intrusive leaks were detected and the engine ran smoothly for a while.

 The new floor mat (a Christmas present organised by Techno Son-in-Law) was placed on the floor.

Roll on the time when the Cleddau crew can spend time back on board, cosy and warm beside the solid fuel stove…   

*Twelfth Night with Samuel West as a very fine Malvolio; The Red Shoes, a play based on a Hans Christian Andersen tale.

** Sisters in Pembrokeshire – 2; sister in Powys - 1