Port Mooar

Wish you were here . . . ?

Wednesday 26th February, 2014.

Wish you were here . . . ?  If you had looked out of our bedroom window early on Wednesday morning your answer would have undoubtedly been a resounding "No!"

Dorothy had emailed at the weekend suggesting "Wednesday at the moment seems like it might be a better day. Shall we meet at Port Mooar and take photos of a dramatic coast with huge waves breaking? High water is at 8.30. If it looks too awesome, we could head up the hill first."

The forecast was for showers but our first impression of Wednesday's weather was of heavy rain - but less wind than we had expected.  Tim phoned to make sure the others still intended walking and we set off for Port Mooar.  The rain eased off before we reached the car park but it didn't quite stop.  So I kept my camera in my backpack until we reached Dhyrnane.

There was more evidence around of this year's wild weather.  Seaweed debris and shingle had been dumped on the parking area by the high tides.  Disappointingly for Dorothy, although the tide was high, there wasn't enough wind for dramatic waves.  It certainly couldn't be described as awesome.  But there must have been quite a heavy swell because a fishing boat which was passing the bay reminded me of a rocking horse.

The walk didn't start well for me.  While trying to step across a deep rock pool, my left boot lost grip on a slimy rock and my foot slipped into the pool.  I lost balance and knocked my right knee against another rock - fortunately it was only bruised.  But I had one boot full of water and a sore knee and the walk had hardly begun.  It was a sort of "glass half full or empty situation"!  I tried to be optimisitic and remind myself that I did have one dry foot!  I didn't want to stop to empty the water out of my boot and hold the others up so I squelched on.  After a while most of the water leaked out but my sock was still saturated at the end of the walk.

The path around the bay had been badly undermined in places.  We met a local resident who was taking his two beautiful black Labrador dogs for a walk and he recommended avoiding the path and taking a detour along the shingle but we managed to squeeze around this clump of blackthorn.

Further on we found that the boardwalk had survived but it looked a bit unstable at one end so I stepped down onto the rushes which had been flattened by the high sea.

When we reached Dhyrnane, the rain had practically stopped and I unpacked my camera.  Tim took this photo of Trevor and Dorothy having a discussion about a rock, and me trying (without success) to fit them and the rock into the frame.

The discussion started because we couldn't remember whether a large boulder which was balanced on some other rocks had been there during previous visits to the little bay or whether it had been moved by the recent waves.  After a bit of thought, we decided that the boulder must still be in its original position because the pattern of greenish growth (algae, moss, seaweed?) on its surface matched the growth on the lower rock.  I think it may have looked different because the level of shingle surrounding the rocks was lower after being churned up in the storms and the rocks were more prominent.  This is the "interesting" boulder!

We squelched up the muddy farm tracks to the church and passed "Betsy's field" on the way.  I wondered whether some of the sheep in the field were the descendents of the sheep that Betsy chased around the field twenty years ago.  She was hardly more than a puppy but we were traumatised because sheep worrying is taken very seriously.  Luckily no-one witnessed her crime and the sheep seemed quite laid back about the whole affair.  They gathered at the gate after we had captured Betsy and watched me give her a reprimand and smack - apparently with approval.

As you can see it was a very grey day.  The sort of dull, damp day that most South Africans like to believe is typical of British weather.  Many years ago, in the not so good old days, I remember hearing Pik Botha, the South African foreign minister at the time, being interviewed for the BBC.  After trying in vain to defend apartheid, he finally played his trump card, announcing proudly that althugh South Africa had problems, it had much better weather than Britain!  It had never occurred to me that governments thought they could claim the credit for "good" weather. 

The sun almost came out as we started along the brooghs but there wasn't much colour around.  In desperation I took a photo of some gorse flowers near the path.  They are bright and pretty but not popular because the prickly plants are invasive and difficult to eradicate from farm land.

We saw some distant sea birds - too far away to identity.  A small group of birds were circling over the cliffs. They looked like doves or pigeons and I wondered whether they were rock doves.  I would like to go back to have another look.   I also saw a contented pair of fulmars who had a very secure nest site on the rocky cliff  below the path.

We walked back to Port Mooar via Jack's Lane and the Dreemskerry Road.  The sun came out while we were walking up the long hill and we felt rather hot with our layers of clothes and waterproofs.  But the sun didn't last long and by the time we approached the cars the clouds were gathering again.

The sea and sky were back to fifty shades of grey.  I thought of using that as the title for the hike but sense prevailed.  I haven't read the book but it caused a sensation and there was enough in the newspapers for everyone to have a pretty good idea of the plot.  And I didn't want to mislead anyone.  If we get hot and steamy on our walks it is only because we are walking up a steep  hill in hot weather.