I paddled from St Bees in Cumbria around the cliffs of St Bees Head and Saltom Bay. It was more of a potter about really rather than a ‘trip’. Increasingly I much prefer just exploring randomly rather than clocking up the miles; a GPS track of this day would have looked very odd.
The sandstone cliffs at North Head are very colourful.
There were a lot of Guillemots on the ledges although nothing like the number of birds which will be here in a few months time. I usually find there are some birds here in the mornings at this time of year, but by afternoon they have all gone back out to sea again.
Around the corner in Saltom Bay is this little waterfall dropping through a mossy cleft. Out of the sun below this north facing cliff the air temperature was arctic.
Across the bay are a couple of reminders of the industrial past of this bit of coast. Just six metres above the shore are the remains of Saltom Pit. Sunk in 1729 and closed in 1848, it extended a considerable distance out under the sea. Above it are the buildings of Haig Pit, the last deep coal mine in Cumbria to close in 1986. It is now a museum.
After paddling back round North Head I stopped at the lovely little beach at Fleswick Bay. Prior to this winter much of the beach here consisted of very fine and beautiful shingle on top of sculpted sandstone slabs.
The winter storms have changed the beach dramatically though with far more sandstone exposed and perhaps two to three feet of shingle removed across the whole beach.
The sandstone itself is beautifully sculpted in places.
Elsewhere where it has previously been protected by the covering of shingle, it shows little sign of erosion or weathering.
I always enjoy spending time exploring here, especially at low tide. Parts of the lower shore are covered in strange brown mounds.
A closer look shows them to be remarkably beautiful structures. They are the work of the Honeycomb Worm.
The beach here also has many very fine rockpools of all sizes.
Back on the water I headed straight out to sea for a couple of kilometres. I often like to just drift about well offshore and see what turns up. There are usually Porpoises here and Gannets later in the spring. This time there were only a few passing Guillemots and it was far too cold to stay long. The Isle of Man is just visible on the right.
I was hoping for a spectacular sunset, but the day just ebbed away in freezing grey as increasing cloud obscured the sun. I didn’t wait around any longer. Once I stopped paddling I quickly lost all feeling in my fingers.
Andrea Collins
