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





Friday 10 January 2014

Cornwall: Crafthole to Seaton 17/8/1996


 

The gook appears at Portwinkle Beach
 
 
Saw wrack at Downderry
 
 
Wall butterfly
 
We walked straight from Finnygook Inn down Finnygook Lane to the beach, a small sandy cove between rocks with more fragments of smooth Venus.   (The “gook” is the ghost of a smuggler who grassed on his friends and was murdered.  It is said to haunt the Inn, but we had not been disturbed.)  A retreating tide allowed us to walk along the shore in front of Portwinkle to the harbour.  A lone sunbather claimed it was the quietest beach in the West Country.  Beyond was Portwinkle Beach. with coarser shingle and rotting seaweed.  There was little vegetation, just a few scraps of sea rocket.  Rocks cut off the exit at the west end and we had to return to the harbour to get to the cliff path, which we then found closed because of a cliff fall, so we had to use the road even higher up, but this was not without interest.  The roadside had frequent long-stalked cranesbill, and some slender thistle and wild leek, while a potato field had many arable weeds including many-seeded goosefoot, field pansy, corn spurrey, black bindweed, common fumitory and wayside cudweed. 
      Just after Cargloth Farm we were able to leave the road and regain the coast path, but this turned inland away from the cliffs, so we continued by a rougher informal path that kept by the coast, seeing by the way a weather-battered wall-butterfly on a battered wall!  We got a glimpse of a long sandy beach below Batten Cliffs, but could see no access.  We went down to Downderry past ploughman’s spikenard and a large colony of bear’s-breech. A precipitous little path allowed us to get to the beach just east of Bass Rock.  We walked back to the east end, finding a few cowries but few other shells, and eventually came to another path down that we appeared to have missed.  This ended at a naturist beach, which may have explained the hidden access.  Again buzzards and peregrines were frequent over the cliffs.  We returned to Bass Rock and crossed some rocks to Downderry Beach, a good length of shingle with a little sea rocket, grass-leaved orache and sea sandwort.  Below private gardens the head of the beach received a lot of garden rubbish and hosted nasturtium, tea-tree and tamarisk.  The centre of Downderry beach was quite crowded and many people were boating.  We took a short break at the Inn on the Shore.  We were able to continue to Seaton Beach, where the river runs down, the village being on the other side.  We walked up to the road through rough land with a recently constructed pond with common centaury, and both red and yellow bartsia.  From here we caught a bus back to Crafthole.
Many-seeded goosefoot
 
Downderry

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