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, 17 January 2014

Cornwall: St Just to Portheras 10/6/1999***


 

Ballowall Barrow
 
Pyrophaena granditarsa male (left) & female
Ancistrocerus oviventris hibernicus
 
Mine remains, Botallack
We continued north past old tin mine shafts bricked round for safety towards Carn Goose.  Ballowall Barrow is Neolithic with an interesting double-ring structure, on which we found common birdsfoot.  Near Cape Cornwall was a fig growing by one wall and pale flax upon another.  The cliffs beyond were botanically diverse, with rocks of dolerite, basalt and greenstone, plus pillow lavas at the headlands.  Dyer’s greenweed occurred regularly and wild angelica was common. The new rocks also explain the disused mines (tin and copper) that stretch all along, an industrial landscape gradually merging back into nature.  At Boscean the path goes inland to negotiate a former quarry, the floor of which was a stream and pond with abundant wildlife, including the rare Variable Damselfly Coenagrion pulchellum, the striking orange hoverfly Pyrophaena granditarsa, a leaf beetle Chrysomela aenea, a burying beetle Silpha tristis, the solitary wasp Ancistrocerus oviventris hibernicus and the click beetle Agrypnus haemorroidalis, the last conspicuous in flight when the dull grey wing-cases opened to reveal a bright red abdomen.  We passed a shaft protected by a rusty barbed wire fence that had partially collapsed, so that at one point a single lower strand remained, well-placed to trip up visitors and tip them headlong into the mine.  Val said this was a tourist trap. 
      At the old Levant mine a beam engine has been restored to working order, propelled by steam to lift ore from the shafts.  We paid to see it in action and hear about the mine’s history.  Just above is Geevor tin mine, worked until recently, but now a museum and shop.  The cliffs below the Levant mine are stained bright green from copper ore waste.  The path continued past the Manor Farm B&B, where we would return to sleep later.  Unspoilt cliffs beyond here were yellowhammer country with much greenweed, heath spotted orchids and royal fern all the way to Pendeen lighthouse.  We saw the triangular fins of dolphins out at sea.  We followed a stream, past a good display of Mimulus luteus and brookweed, down to Portheras beach, coarse sand with small shells and shell fragments and the remains of storm-wrecked by-the-wind-sailors.  We turned inland to Morvah to catch a bus back.
Dyer’s greenweed
 
Levant mine
 
Royal fern
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