Pupils Meet their Ancestors on Llyn's Coast

Unloading goods from coasters at Porth Ferin, on the north coast of Llyn.  Notice the rope hoist used to lift the cargo onto the headland.

For centuries, seafaring was the lifeblood of our Welsh coastal communities.  Luxuries and staple goods of all description, both legal and illicit, were shipped into coves, creeks and beaches all around our rugged coast.

It's no coincidence that the word "Porth", so common around our shores, also means a doorway.

But nearly all these coves - which not so long ago echoed to the sounds of loading and unloading of cargoes - are now silent, save for the sounds of the waves, seabirds and the occasional walker or bather. 

So, where are the descendents of these fishermen, sailors and smugglers of old?  

Of course, many of them are still here, living lives far removed from those of their forefathers, in farms and villages dotted along our coastline.  

Wouldn't it be good if youngsters from these communities could catch a glimpse of the lives of their ancestors? Well, this is exactly what happened the other day at Porthor, or 'Whistling Sands' to the visitors.  

A group of primary schoolchildren from the nearby village of Rhoshirwaen were treated to a day they're unlikely to forget.  Their guide for the day was the National Trust's Community Ranger for Llyn, Robert Parkinson. 

Seaside Classroom: Community Ranger, Robert Parkinson challenges Rhoshirwaen pupils to discover clues to their seafaring heritage

Robert qualified as a teacher before joining the Trust's Llyn team and now spends his time working with community groups and schools around the peninsula.  His post is part-funded by the Heritage Lottery Fund under the Llyn Landscape Partnership, which aims to bring this area's unique heritage to life for the benefit communities and visitors.

Robert, who hails from the Llyn village of Llaniestyn, takes up the story:

"The children learned about the the sort of goods that were imported to the area in past centuries, like wine, tobacco and brandy"

"I got them to guess the identity of mystery objects by touch and with the aid of an aromatic clue.  We used "aroma cubes ", also used in the Yorvik visitor centre in York.  The "herring" and "fish-market" -scented ones were very popular!"

By involving all their senses, Robert was able to open up a window on the past for these Llyn youngsters; an experience that will ensure that the area's maritime heritage will live on for future generations. 

Pembrokeshire Paradise Regained at Abereiddi

Take a look at this picture of Abereiddi, on the beautiful north coast of Pembrokeshire.  Let it take you - in spirit, if not in body - to that most beautiful part of the world.

I admit, the photo was not taken on a particularly beautiful day, but this needn't diminish the pleasure of your visit.  In your mind's eye, travel down the deeply-cut lanes bounded by banks of wildflowers and hawthorns until you reach the cluster of prettily painted houses tucked at the back of the beach.

You leave the houses behind you, nestling in their verdant scrubby gardens, and you're struck by that pleasurable assault on the senses that accompanies your arrival at any beach.

But this is not any beach.  Abereiddi has that rare combination of natural beauty - supplied by rugged cliffs and headlands; traditional architecture - supplied by the cottages with their limewash and slurried-roofs; and historic interest - supplied by the evocative ruins of the nearby slate quarries.

Now, how would you feel if I told you that this wonderful beach was going to be edged with steel girders, concrete blocks and huge boulders?  I'd imagine that you'd be rather upset.  Well, calm down, don't worry, it isn't.

If you've not been to Abereiddi before, you'll be surprised to learn that until recently, that's exactly what was here.  Take a look at the second photo (below) - taken a couple of months ago.

The decision to remove the ill-conceived 1960s sea defences - taken courageously by Pembrokeshire County Council was fully supported by the National Trust.  As the owner of a small part of the north end of the beach, the Trust commissioned a study that showed that this was a classic example of self-assured-destruction: that of sea defences being undermined by the very erosion that they had been built to stop.  

With the beach now restored to its more natural state, it can behave as it wants to: a dynamic shingle ridge that changes its position in response to storms. 

So-far-so-good, I hear you say.  

But working with the forces of nature is rarely straightforward.  See how the space available for parking has already been reduced by a couple of month's erosion.  What happens if the next storm takes another quarter of the car park? What if the coast path begins to erode? What about all the other sites in Pembrokeshire - and around our entire Welsh coastline - where there are aging sea-defences which were built with good intention but with little understanding of how the coast would respond to rising sea levels?

These are the sort of knotty questions that the National Trust, partners and the local community will need to address over the coming months and years.

When I next go to Abereiddi - this time in body rather than in spirit - I for one will not lament the loss of parking.  I'll take the Strumble-Shuttle bus down those flower-lined lanes and I'll have my picnic sitting on the shingle ridge where once stood a steel girder.