Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Tuesday, 21 January 2014

Cornwall: Boscastle to Crackington Haven 17/7/2000**


 

Grayling
 
High Cliff: view to Cambeak
 
Northern Door
 
Cambeak
We set off from Boscastle to the top of a hill with a “fish mast”, a tall weather-vane in the shape of a fish to indicate to fishermen in the sheltered cove below the direction of the wind.  We walked along to Pentargon waterfall, currently a thin stream, although it falls a hundred feet to the shore.  There were large quartz boulders at the base of slate walls here and bands of white quartz showed up well in the black cliffs.  Fighter planes suddenly burst across the sky screaming hatred as we stopped to look at dodder straggled over the gorse, shattering the quiet isolation where buzzards, kestrels and ravens were all common.  Bright sun brought out butterflies, including common blues and graylings, and sap beetles Pocadius ferrugineus were common on the flowers.   In places were dyers greenweed and saw-wort, with occasional white varieties of both thyme and slender thistle.  The hardest climb was up Firebeacon Point, made harder by broken shale in the path.  We found a welcome seat on top with a good view.  There was a continuous noise of nesting herring gulls beneath Buckator and around Gull Rock.  Via a confusing array of paths across Pusey Cliff we eventually joined the official coast path as it began to climb up High Cliff (the highest cliff in Cornwall), another leg-strainer.  At the top the path was pockmarked by huge rabbit burrows.  We sat to have lunch overlooking a wide panorama of beaches below tall cliffs and glimpsed Trevigue, the farm where we were staying tonight. 
      We took the long descent to the Strangles beach, which we regretted when faced with the equally long and steep exit.  There were not many shells, either, just limpets and Monodonta lineata.  The beach was, however, clean shingle and sand below crumbling cliffs denuded of vegetation, with pretty pebbles of black slate and white quartz.  At the northern end, across a few boulders, another beach was being used by naturists, and ended in a natural arch known as Northern Door.  Complex folding is displayed in the cliffs and the “lintel” of the Door itself is folded right back on itself.  There were ponies grazing these steep cliffs.  We left the coast path to go to Trevigue to register for our room.  We were given drinks as a welcome mid-afternoon break in a beautiful house in a very quiet situation, swallows and pied wagtails active outside the window.  Back on the coast path we constantly disturbed lizards from their basking.  A side path led to Cambeak headland, although we could only reach the first peak because the way beyond was too hazardous along a knife-edge land-bridge to the final grassy knoll inhabited by feral Cheviot goats.  On the slopes were carline thistles and puffballs.  After Tremoutha Haven the black shales changed to a redder non-fissile rock, presumably quartzite, and we descended by way of boardwalks across a narrow marshy valley with sharp rush and royal fern.  After two minor hills we descended past tennis courts into Crackington Haven, where the beach was shingle and large pebbles with coarse sand below, with surfers in the sea.  After a half of Doom Bar, one of the local Sharp’s bitters, we caught the bus back to Boscastle for a dinner at the Cobweb, a pub created in the 1940s in an old disused building.
 
Buckator
 
 
Royal ferns
 
 
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