Cemlyn's Changing Coastline

Cemlyn: A place of big skies, seabirds and storms. (c) NT/Joe Cornish

Cemlyn is a place of big skies; a refuge for wildlife and a sanctuary for those wishing to escape everyday life and find solace in breathtakingly beautiful scenery. 

But we face a big challenge keeping it that way…

Climate Change: Challenge or Opportunity?

This two-mile stretch of National Trust land, half a mile from the village of Cemaes on the North Anglesey coast, is of exceptional environmental and cultural value.  It is home to an internationally important breeding colony of Sandwich terns, includes a historic mill and church and was the site of Anglesey’s first lifeboat.

The estate includes two family-run farms, two smallholdings and is a popular destination for walkers, bird-watchers and kayakers.

But Cemlyn faces an uncertain future.  Much of the estate is low-lying and is already affected by coastal flooding and erosion.  Wildlife, historic features and the farming way of life are all threatened by climate change, raising serious questions about the future of the estate. 

Sea-level rise projections require a radical re-think about land use and access routes on the estate (1m sea level rise marked in light blue).
Ordnance Survey data (c) Crown Copyright and database

The land also sits right next door to the site of the proposed Wylfa Newydd nuclear power station which, if it goes ahead, will be one of Europe’s biggest construction sites.

If ever there was a need for a clear conservation vision, this is it.

Take a look at Cemlyn’s breathtakingly beautiful coastline from the air



Storms over-top the shingle ridge, lowering its height and flooding farmland (Photo: Jane Rees)

Parking problems?  The main car park is frequently flooded by the tide, making it necessary to plan for its relocation.

Stormy Waters

Sea levels are rising.  Since records began at nearby Holyhead in 1965, there’s already been a 17.8 cm rise in mean high water.

By the end of the century, land currently being used for silage, crops and grazing at Cemlyn will be underwater at the highest tides.  The shingle ridge that protects the islands which support 20% of the UK Sandwich terns may be breached and access roads, car parks and footpaths will be unusable.

"The 12 highest recorded high tides [at nearby Holyhead] have all occurred since 1997"

 Prof. Ken Pye, Environmental Scientist and advisor to the Cemlyn vision project

Seeking a shared vision

We’ve recently started to share our ideas for Cemlyn’s future with our farming tenants, conservation partners and the local community.  This follows two years of detailed research, which has involved studies of the hydrology, geomorphology, soils and farming practices of the estate. 

A picture is emerging of threatened habitats, livelihoods and farming traditions that stretch back for generations.

Sharing our vision

We’ve taken our stand to the Anglesey Show and held a Cemlyn Open Day to share our vision and gather feedback from locals and visitors.

We are sharing what we know about the challenges of climate change with those who depend on Cemlyn for their livelihood

The North Wales Wildlife Trust has been managing the Cemlyn Lagoon, with its thriving tern colony, for over 40 years.  Their expertise has been crucial to developing the vision, and we have also been in discussion with the Isle of Anglesey County Council and the RSPB.  Thanks to Jane Rees/NWWT for this 1970s archive photo, showing volunteers repairing the damaged weir.

Our role is to defend the beauty and wildlife of this amazing stretch of coast.  If the timeless habitats and farming heritage are to survive at this special place, we must prepare now to overcome the challenges of climate change by working with our farming tenants, the community and conservation partners. 

To help visualise the likely changes we commissioned an artist's impression of how the landscape will look in our grandchildren's time

Did you know?

Cemlyn has a fascinating nature conservation history dating back nearly a century.  Download our timeline to find out more.

 We would like to hear from you

If you would like to contribute to our vision, or just want to let us know what you think, please feel free to use the comment facility on this blog, or contact me

To find out more, download our bilingual vision document
 
You may need to download the Dropbox app to view the above link.  Contact me if you'd like me to email you a copy.

Gwerthfawrogaf eich sylwadau ar ddyfodol Cemlyn.

 

Finding beauty where you least expect it

Behind this ancient mill lies a hidden garden

One of my greatest pleasures in life is visiting gardens.

I suppose it’s something to do with that deeply satisfying combination of craft, art and nature.  Or perhaps it’s that basic human need to find meaning and order in a chaotic world.  Whatever the reason, we can count ourselves lucky that we have in Wales some of the world’s finest gardens.  And to my mind, gardens by the sea have that something extra special that is absent from their inland counterparts.

So imagine my pleasure when I was able to visit a charming garden the other day which displayed all those often conflicting qualities that make seaside gardens so special:  shelter and exposure; hardiness and tenderness; rock and water.

You’re probably thinking that since I work for a charity that’s famous for its gardens, it must be one of our own;  Plas yn Rhiw, Plas Newydd, Colby Woodland Garden perhaps?  Well, this particular garden was in fact private, sitting adjacent but inextricably linked to the National Trust countryside property of Cemlyn, on the rugged and exposed north Anglesey coast.

Cestyll Garden was created in the early 1920s by Violet Vivian, daughter of Lord Vivian of Bodmin.  She had been gifted Cestyll , a solidly-built house standing proud on this windswept coastline, by her uncle.  First she used it as a holiday cottage, but soon fell under the spell of the area’s wild beauty and moved here to live permanently. 

The Hon. Violet Vivian, in the garden she created in the 1920s

She quickly realised that a sheltered rocky ravine, through which cascaded the little Afon Gafnan on its final dash past a romantic disused mill to the sea, would make a wonderful garden.  Aided by her friend Princess Victoria, daughter of Edward VII, and contacts at Kew, she worked with the site’s unique topography and microclimate to create a hidden sanctuary planted with flowering shrubs, ornamental trees and streamside flowers.   She had bridges built over the tumbling stream and wove a circular path to reveal a series of intimate views of miniature cliffs and waterfalls ornamented with beautiful plants and all set against a backdrop of the ivy-covered mill, by now owned by the National Trust, and an astonishing framed view of the wild Irish Sea beyond.

 

She tended her garden until her death in 1962, and her ashes lie there, still nourishing the beauty that she created.

Glimpses of the wild Irish Sea from Cestyll Garden (aglesey-today.com)

But before long, momentous changes engulfed Violet Vivian’s legacy, leading me to ponder on how fortunate it was that she never lived to see what happened next.  The neighbouring land was chosen for the Wylfa nuclear power station, which ran from 1971 to 2015, and there are plans for its successor, the much bigger Wylfa Newydd, which will occupy the land right up to the garden boundary.  Soon after her death, the garden was purchased by the Central Electricity Generating Board with a condition that they and their successors maintain it as a memorial.

As I explored the garden, which is normally opened for 3 days a year in May, I confess that the thought occurred to me whether there was any point in maintaining it, so close to what for the next decade will be one of the largest construction sites in Europe.

 

But then the realisation dawned, perhaps prompted by the spirit of Violet Vivian, that the reason why gardens like these are so special is that they provide an escape from the world and its tempests.  The proximity to such heavy industry make it all the more important that this hidden gem survives, if only as an opportunity for future generations to find beauty where you least expect it.