Friday 26 June 2015

The Welsh coast needs your help

Bob, our Trident Trek hero asks for your help....
We asked Bob, our Trident minder to explain why we need your help:

"For over 50 years, people from all over Wales and beyond have been helping us to save and look after special places on Wales’ beautiful coast.

"Did you know that as well as saving special coastal places through ownership, our Coastline Campaign also helps us look after the coast, doing important work such as…
  • protecting places of priceless historic or archaeological interest
  • restoring valuable wildlife habitats
  • mending eroded paths
 …all so that you and your family can get more from your visit to the coast.

"Did you know that it takes an average of £3,000 a year to look after one mile of the Welsh coast?
 

"That’s what it takes for our rangers to look after footpaths, wildlife habitats, heritage features and
provide a great welcome.
 

"You can help our coastal conservation work by making a donation now.  Please visit our JustGiving site and give what you can.

"This is what we are fundraising for through the Trident Trek:

£100 to restore five metres of traditional Pembrokeshire flower-rich bank, or produce 100 education packs for local school children.

£25 to enable us to create a metre of  wildlife trail around the flower-rich dunes and meadows at Freshwater West, Pembrokeshire.

£50 to cover the cost of establishing an apple tree in the community heritage garden at the traditional crog loft cottage at Fron Deg, Llyn  

£2,000 to pay for a bird hide at Cwm Ivy, Gower and £100 to pay for a wildlife-spotting  sheet for visitors to use to identify what they see from the hide.

"I asked three of our Rangers to share examples of improvements being made THIS year, thanks to donations into our Coastline Campaign."
 


Monday 22 June 2015

Tales from the Trek: Confessions of a Trident Minder



Coastal supremo and Trident Minder, Bob Smith, heading for Caernarfon this morning
I caught up with coastal supremo Bob this morning.  He'd just crossed the Menai Bridge, and was heading for the Community Day at Glan Faenol before heading for Caernarfon.

As we strolled along I picked up a few stories about his first 200 miles, which I'd like to share.

What's the experience that sticks in the mind most over the last couple of weeks?Bob: Losing the Trident...We stopped at the Spar shop in Conwy to buy lunch.  Half an hour later when we stopped for our picnic we realised it was missing and had to run back.  We were mightily relieved to find that it was where we left it, leaning against the wall.

What's the most bizarre moment?

Bob: without doubt, it's where my fellow volunteer George suddenly grabbed the trident and headed out to sea at Trearddur Bay on Anglesey to do a passable impression of Neptune.
Neptune rising from the waves. Brrr!

What was the most shocking incident?

Bob: I was walking along a street in Prestatyn when a woman drinking cider took one look at my trident and shouted "Fork Off!", or at least that what I think she said.




Friday 19 June 2015

Day 13: The Last Mile. Penarth Marina to the Senedd.

This is the final blog post of a 13 day voyage on-board the yacht Capercaillie, made to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Neptune Coastline Campaign in Wales.  

To follow our adventures as we visited the Trust's Neptune coast in Wales, go to our first blog post and follow the links through the days.
Capercaillie is dwarfed amongst the playthings of the conspicuously wealthy, at Penarth Marina
Last night’s late arrival caused us to put off the final step of our round-Wales coastal marathon, the short trip across the Cardiff Bay lagoon to the pontoons in front of our government building, the Senedd.  

We set off through the Penarth Marina lock and soon the familiar landmarks of Cardiff’s political and cosmopolitan tourist centre moved into view: the copper carapace of the Millennium Centre, the red brick Pierhead Building, the white painted Norwegian Church and, of course, the Senedd.  

“I think we may have a problem.” John was scanning the quays with his binoculars on our approach.

It turned out that the visitors’ pontoons had been taken over by performance racing catamarans and official race vessels.  We found a space and cheekily squeezed in amongst a few hundred thousand pounds worth of carbon fibre super-yacht.  Predictably, we were immediately approached by a man in a dayglow jacket and walkie-talkie who pointed to an official-looking notice and stated that the whole area was cordoned off for the duration of the racing event. 

But we had an event to complete too, I argued, and a brief stand-off ensued.  This was a public pier and we’d also been planning our event for over six months, I argued.  Nevertheless, a contest between two slightly disheveled tee-shirted blokes with a 30 year old yacht and a uniform-clad security officer backed by a multimillion-pound sponsored yachting event, there could only be one winner.
We moored cheekily amongst the super yachts before being moved on by security

With our inscrutable adversary watching impatiently over us, John and I cut one of the Sails Around Wales banners off, threw my bags onto the quay and gave each other a manly farewell hug.  I thrust the rolled-up banner under my arm, turned to the officer, who seemed to be at the point of calling for reinforcements, and I asked him to evict me from the pontoons.

On the Senedd steps, Tom, a friendly young man who explained that he’d just completed a survival training course and was heading for a big breakfast, agreed to photograph me holding the banner. Feeling slightly disappointed that John was not able to join me for this last step of our journey around Wales, I smiled for the camera as, over Tom’s shoulder, I spotted Capercaille and its skipper, heading off to prepare for their return journey.  

I thanked Tom, picked up my bags and headed off to find a taxi back to life on terra-firma.

Journey's end.  Sails Around Wales reaches the Senedd
Go to Day 1 to follow the whole voyage

Thursday 18 June 2015

Day 12: A 'rather boisterous' journey: Swansea to Cardiff


Swansea marina - arrow marks Capercaille
For today's last leg of our epic tour of the Welsh coast, there was just John and I on-board Capercaillie.  Like the only other section when we didn't have any colleagues on-board, south Meirionnydd, this section of coast is unjustly devoid of National Trust properties.

Before sailing, we met yesterday's passenger, Kathryn with the long-awaited stop solenoid outside the National Waterfront Museum.  She handed over a bag with four bottles of Gower Gold beer and said, "because you didn't get to see Gower yesterday, I thought you should taste it instead"

Nevertheless, after about an hour into the sail we got great views of the south Gower coast, including Pwlldu Head and Three Cliffs Bay.  We sailed out far into the Bristol Channel to miss the Scarweather and Nash sand banks, which stood out as an menacing line of angry boiling surf to our north-east.
With the wind increasing to Force 6, we clicked in our harnesses as the boat yawed and rode the waves at a cracking pace.  At one point, as the wind was whistling in the rigging, John decided that we'd be safer with the genoa sail out and the mainsail taken down and sent me to walk along the pitching deck to furl the sail.  A couple of times when a big swell caught us, I had to hug the mast at to stop being thrown off.

The exhilarating sail continued in a similar fashion for another 7 hours, past Porthcawl, Nash Point, Barry Island, Penarth and eventually the barrage lock gates at Cardiff.

And so it was that 12 days and 402 miles since leaving Bangor, and having enjoyed the company of 10 adventurous colleagues and having sailed past all 133 National Trust properties in Wales, that John and I celebrated the completion of our circumnavigation with a satisfying "taste of Gower".

Entering the lock gates into the Cardiff Bay lagoon
One valedictory gesture remains, that is to sail across Cardiff bay to the Senedd.  But that will have to wait until tomorrow morning.

Go to Day 13


Wednesday 17 June 2015

Day 11: Gower's hidden coast. Tenby to Swansea


Kathryn and John, before our departure from Tenby
Another day, another hard-working NT coastal colleague wishing to join Sails Around Wales and view the coast they care for.  Unfortunately, Katherine, our Gower Ranger, was not in luck.  She joined us for breakfast after a very early start then we headed off into a thick mist.  Soon a fresh wind was made use of by hoisting the sails.  The next few hours sailing called for John's navigation skills as we were sailing blind, with no visual confirmation of his calculations.

As we sailed about 2 miles off Worm's Head, we were joined by a pod of about seven or eight dolphins, which broached, bow-rode and crossed under the boat at speed. These were quite different to the bottlenose dolphins we'd seen earlier in the trip.  They were much smaller, more dainty in appearance and were white underneath.  We initially thought that they were the rare striped dolphin, but later thought that they may have been common dolphins with juveniles.
As we pitched and rode the waves, I was sent below to stow anything loose.
A brief sighting of Port Eynon head confirmed our location and we headed for Mumbles.  The sea became increasingly choppy and Capercaillie was thrown about a bit, but we eventually picked up a mooring in the more sheltered waters of Mumbles.  We deposited Kathryn safely ashore, who was still cheerful despite a less than comfortable trip and not having seen any of the 26 miles of spectacular coastline that she helps look after on Gower.
Adieu, Katherine.  Being rowed ashore in Mumbles

Not wishing to spend the night on a rollercoaster mooring, we headed across the bay to Swansea marina, where the delights of warm showers and washing machines made up for a rather demanding day.

Go to Day 12

Day 10: Puffin & preditor: Solva to Tenby

A rose between two thorns? Today's crew, Amanda
Amanda, our Fundraising Consultant and latest crew member, arrived bright and early at 7am, and we headed out of Solva harbour over St Bride's Bay.  The Solfa coast, Southwood estate and Sheepfields, Littlehaven, three of our properties that flank the bay, faded into the distance as we approached the fearsome Jack Sound.  The presence of increasing numbers of seabirds, busily crisscrossing our route, heralded the proximity of Skomer.  We spotted our first puffin, bobbing on the sea with it's beakfull of sandeels, and soon there were squadrons of them hurtling past, their frantic flight reminding us of over-wound clockwork toys.
Jack Sound, with the Deer Park and Midland Isle
Despite it's reputation, the Sound was smooth, with just the occasional upwellings and swirling eddies tugging at the rudder, hinting at the power of the tide race which would soon be upon us if we didn't keep moving.  We passed Midland Isle, the Trust's only sizable non-tidal island in Wales and rounded the Deer Park into the bay off Marloes Beach with its tidal Gateholm.  Soon St Anne's Head hove into view and I spotted Kete, where a wartime radar station for the tracking of low-flying aircraft was once located.  Crossing Milford Haven's busy shipping lanes we aimed for Freshwater West where we intended heading out to sea to avoid the Castlemartin firing range exclusion zone.
Range safety vessel, Predator comes alongside
But before we could do this, from apparently nowhere appeared the threateningly named Predator, a range safety vessel which requested that we headed three miles offshore due to live firing on the range. As we approached the Stackpole estate, another safety vessel accosted us to make sure we kept our distance.  Eventually we anchored off Stackpole Quay, dropped off Amanda and joined our colleagues, who by happy coincidence were having an evening social kayak and barbeque.
Stackpole colleagues see us back out to Capercaillie
We then headed for Tenby, where we were to meet our next colleague-passenger tomorrow.  This journey took us past Manorbier and Lydstep Head, the Trust's first property in Pembrokeshire, donated in 1936.  We eventually rounded Tenby's St Catherine's Island and moored in the harbour with minutes to spare before the ebbing tide landed us gently on the sand at 10pm.
The bright lights of Tenby, from the harbour
Go to Day 11

Day 9: Shore leave: St David's to Solva

The Solva coast, best experienced on foot.  (c) National Trust/Joe Cornish
Last night's arrival at Solva was a day early, thanks to the extended voyage on Saturday. As we had a new passenger to pick up tomorrow, this meant that we had a day's shore leave today.  The question was, which bit of the Pembrokeshire coast to walk?  South to Newgale or north to St David's?

This conumdrum was resolved by Tony, Solva's friendly harbourmaster as we were paying him for the mooring.  "Get in the van, boys, I'll run you up to St David's."  It seems that when the tide's out, there's little going on down in the harbour, so Tony does a spot of gardening on the side.

We called in at the NT shop at the city centre and had a chat with Cath, the cheerful manager, who was doing what she usually's doing when I see her: chatting to visitors about things to see and do.  After talking about our trip and the mysterious arrival of a flock of red kites in the area (feeding on puffin chicks?) the conversation moved on to Gregory Peck, a tame seagull that has his own twitter account.  This was the signal we needed to get going on our walk back to Solva.

Experiencing the coast whilst sailing has been a bit like moving along an unrolling scroll.  An endlessly moving view, continually revealing itself ahead of you and retreating behind you.  It may be heresy to suggest it in this blog, but this perspective doesn't always show off our coast at its best. To really appreciate our spectacular coast at its most beatiful, you have to get onto it and walk it.

And the coast between Porth Clais - with its small fleet of fishing boats snuggling behind the protective arm of harbour wall - and Solva, must be amongst the most beatiful anywhere.  A sucession of spectacular wildflower-speckled cliffs and sandy bays of clear waters tinted a turquoise of tropical intensity.
Capercaillie on her mooring at Solva
There was nothing tropical in its temperature when I leapt off the boat back in Solva harbour. A spirited swim around the boat was enough to cool me off after the walk in the warm sunshine.  Writing on the boat, as John went in search of a mobile signal, I listened to the early-evening sounds of the harbour. Little motor boats came and went, children played, youths shouted and the Celtic longboat rowing teams pulled past, chatting cheerfully as they rowed.  The other essential part of harbour life at Solva - the Harbour Inn and (yet another) Ship Inn - beckoned, and we enjoyed a meal and pint to celebrate the end of our shore leave.

Go to Day 10

Sunday 14 June 2015

Day 8: A meeting with the bitches. Fishguard to Solva

A blue sky, fair breeze and full sail.  A good time to get the squeezebox out
For once, the mischievous machinations of the tides were in our favour. We were aiming to repeat our smooth transit of the Bardsey Sound with a similar strategy for Ramsey.  That is, to let the tide race-away until it slows, then hop on-board for a smooth ride before it turns and the tidal gate closes again.  And last night's calculations had declared that we had time for a leisurely vegetarian cooked breakfast in Fishguard before weighing the anchor. Having experienced local yachtsman Tim on-board for a second day certainly made crewing much easier.
Site of the shambolic Napoleonic mini-invasion at Carreg Wastad Point
Soon we were rounding Pen Anglas, Carreg Wastad Point and then Strumble Head.  With a fair breeze and blue sky, we sailed past all the other spectacular north Pembrokeshire NT places, such as Garn Fawr, Abermawr, Abereiddi and St David's Head. In about an hour, we were heading inexorably into the jaws of Ramsey sound, surrounded by jagged reefs with ominous names such as the Craig Gafaeliog (grabbing rock), the Horse, the Bitches and the Shoe, we were carried comfortably on the last gasp of the tide race.
Escaping the Ramsey Sound into St Bride's Bay
The expanse of St Bride's Bay opened out before us and with the wind on the beam reach, we had a cracking sail along the Treginnis peninsula to Solva.  Negotiating its twisted approach into calmer waters, we were reminded that to arrive at a secluded fishing village by boat gives you a stronger sense of arrival than by any other means.  After all, it's the act that defines the place and ultimately, it's spirit.  I for one had the words of one of Solva's most famous sons, Mike Stevens, in my head as I approached:  "Mae ysbryd Solfa'n galw nawr"  (Solva's spirit calls me now).

Go to Day 9

Day 7: "Ahoy me haaarties" Aberystwyth to Fishguard


Today's motley crew: David (Volunteer Ranger), Tim (Llanerchaeron Head Gardener),
 Gwen (Ceredigion Ranger),  John and me
When under pressure, John abandons his usual affable tact and switches to skipper mode.  This is the John that burst into the harbourmaster's office as I was arranging the onward postage of the elusive stop-solenoid.  “We’re leaving… NOW!” 

With the tide approaching the point when leaving Aberystwyth ceases to be possible, and shortly before we were about to cast off, our motley crew arrived.  Minutes later we were motoring though the rain into a gloomy Cardigan Bay, with our crew’s high spirits almost drowning out the throb of the engine.
Gwen, giving us a quick lesson in marine ecology
Pirate-inspired amateur-dramatics soon faded away as we started to take a lumpy swell and the rain beat down even harder.  Gwen pointed out a succession wonderful coves and headlands that she and her team of volunteers look after.  Craig yr Adar, Coebal, Cwm Silio, Cwm Tydu, Lochtyn, Penbryn and, finally, after about 4 hours of pitching and rolling, Mwnt.

Gwen and David
By this point the wind had increased to a stiff northerly, the swell had become even more tempestuous and two of the crew had ‘donated their breakfast to Neptune’.  At least, we thought, it will be all over when we round Cardigan Island and head into the Teifi estuary. One glance into the jagged jaws of the estuary made it clear that we would have to press on to Fishguard, another 3 hours of stomach-churning sailing.

Coming ashore at the old harbour at Fishguard
They say that the best cure for seasickness is to sit under a tree; well, a stroll through Fishguard for fish and chips seemed to do the job just as well.  We said our farewells to Gwen and David who were having a lift back home with Alison, Tim’s wife, and headed back to Capercaille.  

Not for the first time in this trip, Capercaille started hammering on the bottom as the tide reached full ebb, a serious inconvenience that would make sleep impossible.  This necessitated a quick repositioning to an anchorage, which returned the boat to a more soporific cradle-rocking movement.
John and Tim going ashore for re-fuelling
Go to Day 8

Friday 12 June 2015

Day 6: Estuarine spendour - Barmouth to Aberystwyth


I’m learning to feel excited rather than worried at the sound of wind whistling in rigging when I wake up.  It means one thing: fast sailing.  And my eager anticipation was fulfilled by an exhilarating sail south to Aberystwyth.  The broad valleys of the Mawddach, Dysyni and Dyfi channeled and concentrated the wind giving us the occasional extra boost, helping us along at a top speed of 6.9 knots and leaning the boat right over.
The mountain fastness of Cader Idris, towering over the Dysyni valley
We’ve found that there’s no such thing as ‘dolphin fatigue’.  The wonder of the first encounter repeats itself every time.  Today’s performance took place off Borth.  As soon as we spotted the fins, they’d already seen us and were heading our way.  Seconds later they were riding the bow, leaping clean out of the sea and clapping their tails onto the water.  The sight of a pair of them alongside the bow, twisting and swapping places at high speed will stay with me forever.

We moored off Aberystwyth to wait for the tide, finally coming alongside the marine berth at 3pm, guided by a very friendly and helpful harbourmaster.
Aberystwyth appears over the bow on a broad reach
Today’s coastline – wonderful though it is – is a bit of an ‘empty quarter’ when it comes to NT Neptune coastline.  Tomorrow will be different, as we enter the coastline of the Cardis.

Go to Day 7