Monday 5 November, 2018
It’s Guy Fawkes Night, so the evening had been punctuated with small explosions and, oddly, the sound of helicopters from the naval airfield close by. RNAS Culdrose is the main helicopter base for the RN, and it also does fixed wing training, so I was greeted on my arrival in Helston with a pair of Alpha jets at chimney height. Just for me, mind!
The first part of the day was easy walking with some lovely light to capture the Mount against the backdrop of the Bay. I could see all the way back to Mousehole. The walk to Prussia Cove was easy, but very muddy, and I plodded along in grand style, listening to NPR Politics! What will the Mid-terms bring?
This stretch of the path is a whole set of amazing experiences, with picturesque bays and rocky headlands. The cliffs are nowhere near as high as in the last few years, and they are constantly eroding away, so the path is quite winding (it usually means that you go downhill to the point and the up the hill to go around the land slip!).
The first big point leads around to Prussia Cove, the headquarters of the famous smuggler John Carter, who was one of Cornwall’s most successful smugglers and he named himself the King of Prussia. It’s also famous because of HMS Warspite, the ‘the ship that refused to die’. After surviving a jammed rudder at Jutland, then reputedly scoring the longest direct hit in battleship history at Matapan, on her way to the breakers yard, she broke free of her tugs and ran aground at Prussia Cove.
I found this notice just before Par Sands and can only comment that they must be kidding themselves.
Par Sands was just a place to grab a break (my tea flask is getting well-used, Paula), until I found this memorial:
To quote what I wrote on Facebook:
This memorial has only been here for about 6 years, but these young blokes should not be forgotten because its a famous incident. 461 was an Empire scheme squadron, unlike the regulars of 10 Squadron, who were collecting their Sunderland when war broke out. The heroism of the actions of the crew – this day helped cement the nickname of the aeroplane as the “flying porcupine” – should not distract from the reason they were patrolling that day. This was 24 hours after a transport plane carrying (among others) Lesley Howard was shot down in the Bay of Biscay. I always feel for young Aussies who were so far from home for so long. Only two survived the war (the squadron lost 20 aeroplanes and 88 aircrew in the war). Lest We Forget. More information at http://www.historyofwar.org/air/units/RAAF/10_wwII.html and https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-cornwall-22746173
At Perranuthnoe is the church dedicated to St. Piran, the patron saint of Cornwall. Piran was Irish, which would appear to be a fair trade for the Welshman St Patrick, who converted the Irish. I missed the pub, which is supposed to the the oldest in England – but I’ve heard that story before!
By far the most interesting part of the journey were the ruins of Wheal Prosper tin mining engine house and chimney above Porthcew: this was the mine that featured in Poldark and the engine house is just magnificent.
I spotted the rock formation known as the Camel at Rinsey. I think it looks more like a duck, but whatever. As I walked past, there were a number of choughs, and I’ve grown quite fond of them as the ultimate aeronauts. They are small crows but they are far more interesting than crows and they are symbolically important to Cornwall, so a big fuss is made over their conservation.
This monument is to the many seamen who died in wrecks along this stretch of coast. They were buried on the cliffs until the passing of the Grylls Act in 1808, which meant that burials took place in nearby consecrated ground. There is another monument in Helston to the Act itself – it must have made a big difference to the locals on this wreck strewn coast.
It was a ten minute bus ride to Helston from Porthleven and I can’t for the life of me remember why I didn’t stay in Porthleven – probably cost! I might have been tempted by the Rick Stein Restaurant. It was another picture-perfect village – you wonder how they get rid of the grotty bits that photographers don’t want.
I think the weather is going to work against me from now on, so I’m counting on getting round the Lizard tomorrow and into the more sheltered bits. Fingers crossed!
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