"Salcombe June 2016" drabbles by Neville Hunt
Au revoir to my third love
Salcombe June 2016 #12
My first and second loves are my wife and my family. The third is here, as far south as Devon gets. If I told you how many years we'd been coming here annually you might realise I'm over 35.
I love it here; it's so beautiful. It's a long way from home and whilst I've been to many countries over the years, I bounce back here like I'm on elastic. I've done a lot this week and Salcombe has done a lot for me in return.
I never tire of any of my loves.
Same time next year? Can't wait!
Nature tells us "Time to go."
Salcombe June 2016 #11
Home again tomorrow. Sharp weather change from hot to icy, overnight. That's England for you, even the beautiful southwest. Overcast all day, this was a day for going out... and coming straight back! (I know, I should have changed out of beach gear.)
Our apartment overlooks the boat slipway and pontoon, where it all happens. The small craft, millionaire's yachts, crabbing boats and the cutest blue, red and yellow little ferry boat, like a kiddy's toy ploughing between here and South Sands beach.
But there's our boat on the slipway. Soon time to bag it up for the car.
We've'adalov'lytime!
Going to the wall
Salcombe June 2016 #10
This is the time to be in Devon, early June. The time of flowers, wild flowers in glamorous profusion. The floral will to survive, propagate and prosper is spectacular. Beautiful wild flowers adorn the hedgerows and verges - a range of stunning colours and forms.
The most amazing feat of survival is the countless array of flowers and ferns that plant themselves in dry stone walls, clinging, with no visible root form to provide adhesion. It's hard to imagine how they sustain life as there is no obvious access to water, except through rainfall.
Unbelievable, glorious. 'Oh to be in England...'
Red alert
Salcombe June 2016 #9
Yesterday, the hottest of the week was rather warm. Across the estuary in our boat, this time doing a small diversion, a 'little pootle' up one of the creeks to examine the craft on moorings.
I'd taken the precaution of suntan cream on arms, legs and face and on reaching our lovely little beach, we found a secluded, sheltered spot among the rocks. Suddenly, it felt very warm indeed. For the first time this year, off with my shirt to get the rays for a short time. Sleep savagely betrayed me. I joined that subspecies of humans, the redbacks. Owwwww!
Deserted beach
Salcombe June 2016 #8
With sun shining, Mrs H looked across the estuary to the small beach we use and saw it empty of people.
"Let's take the boat across with a bottle of wine and finish today romantically"
Thinking this an excellent way to end a lovely day, I grabbed chilled Prosecco, glasses, olives and off we went.
At second sip, suddenly the beach was invaded by over 30 children and teenagers, plus associated adults who arrived by boat...you could only reach it by boat. They rigged up dinghies already stored there for a sailing lesson.
It still couldn't spoil our perfect day.
No little room at the inn
Salcombe June 2016 #7
It took us at least an hour, turning back along the way to avoid the sheepalanche. The route was up and down, the ups being rather strenuous.
Our plan, upon reaching our destination, the hotel at Gara Rock, was to have a coffee, but more importantly, to visit the toilets.
Reaching our destination, needy, we were shocked to find the hotel and cafe closed this particular Tuesday. A level of panic then ensued requiring a direct, unscenic inland return to Millbay, our boat and the public toilets. Our gait was brisk, but observers might describe it as 'curiously crossed-legged'
My kingdom for a sheepdog
Salcombe June 2016 #6
On our walk along the coast path we decided, for a change, we would take the top path to Gara Rock and the hotel. Not our normal route, but we were adventurous today!
This path seemed quicker, less scary and we could see we'd overtaken the serious walkers on the path below. Dodging piles of excrement, we came across the odd ewe plus lambs, quickly scampering off to let us pass. Then it happened. There appeared a massive herd of sheep, heading towards us one by one along the narrow path.
Reverse gear was the only option. Advantage lost. Bah!
A plaice in his story
Salcombe June 2016 #4
Yesterday the tide was very low indeed. We walked along the beach which would not normally be accessible, the alternative being clambering over rocks to reach our destination, the sandbar.
The sandbar, a spit of sand almost connecting the land to the island in the middle of the estuary, only appeared at really low water. It was joyous, we stood where normally we might drown. It was almost deserted as the weather was overcast. But a man was fishing the sandy lagoon formed by the sandbar.
Told us that was the time and place for plaice. He knew his plaice.
Stepping carefully
Salcombe June 2016 #5
Today we crossed the estuary in our little boat, leaving it on Millbay beach. We were walking round the beautiful cliff path to Gara Rock. The land, owned by The National Trust, is among the most glorious in England. It's wild, it's natural, it's shared.
Today we shared it with sheep, who kept the grass in check. We knew they were there, but didn't see them at first. We spotted the tell-tale signs though. In our path was sheep's leave-behind, lots of it.
What a choice! Look up to enjoy the view or down to sidestep the poo?
The Recidivist
Salcombe June 2016 #3
A man of mature years should have learnt. But the danger of maturity is the establishment of bad ways.
Another beautiful creek trip today, the day after yesterday's seaweed incident. The destination was The Milbrook, a lovely pub, with a little brook, next to which we sat and drank. Mine was beer again. The distance back to home base was shorter than yesterday. Simple maths told me to drink more... simple maths, the last resort of the simpleton.
No engine crisis on this visit to South Pool. So why then the pressing bladder crisis? Oh yes, it's become a tradition!
No-one told the fish...
Salcombe June 2016 #2
...or maybe they did!
It was beautifully calm. My fishing trip with the professional should've been a very pleasant affair; it was. 10 rods, 10 people - any more and it would be tangled lines as the mackerel on our lines, in their eagerness to escape, would swim around and about. On this trip, two or three miles out to sea, lines were tangled as the flat calm and the tidal drift spun the boat.
Wow! We were 'spinning for mackerel'. No, it turns out we were just spinning. No mackerel for my smoker :-(
The mackerel had lunched already.
Tide of relief
Salcombe June 2016 #1
Up the creek. A wide tidal creek across which we zigzagged our small boat, keeping red poles to port, avoiding the mud. Our destination - The Globe at the end of the creek. The beer was delicious - I consumed too much.
Racing back on the outgoing tide, zigzagging, not quite as accurately, my outboard caught a clump of seaweed, spat it out, or so I thought. The engine started behaving erratically, surging and then stalling. Rather slow progress, then panic - wife about getting stuck on mud, me about wetting myself from beer overload. Fortunately, only the final bit of sea weed!
