All aboard to Flat Holm / Ynys Echni

This was no nail-biting excursion around the Bay with screaming kids like I remember from my last excursion with Bay Island Voyages for our son’s birthday treat years ago. Today, after a short burst around Cardiff Bay to amuse the one and only child onboard, we took our place in one of the towering locks of the Barrage, alongside a variety of other vessels, including a stately yacht and a fishing boat, to wait for the water level to reach that of the estuary. Having navigated our way through the lock, our rigid inflatable, the Celtic Pioneer, took ‘flight,’ swiftly escorting us into the wide expanse of sparkling blue water of the Channel. There were spectacular views to the islands, which brought back memories of my recent sail on the Waverley and flashbacks to other more adventurous maritime adventures on the old Maritime Studies Department’s (Cardiff Uni) inflatable years ago.  Within minutes, with 450 horses pulling us along/ oops, no – with the mighty thrust of the 450 HP of our outboard engines, we were soon dropping speed at the approach to Flat Holm, the most southerly location in Wales. We gently glided past striking grey-white limestone cliffs, admiring their contorted beds and curious shapes, which cast intriguingly long shadows across the bay in the bright autumn sunlight. These mighty natural structures not only frame the northern entrance to the island but also tower above the steep jetty. They certainly reminded us that this is a wild and potentially dangerous place with an immense tidal range.

Fortunately, there was no difficult landing today – just a small step onto the jetty and we were all ashore in minutes. This was nothing like some of the previous managers’ and wardens’ recollections: indeed, Dave Worral, former Flat Holm Ecologist and Project Manager, recounts the great team efforts required for deliveries, particularly in the early years of the Flat Holm Project as many of the buildings were being restored. He remembers the delivery of old telegraph poles which BT had donated to help with the construction of the barn. These had been ‘pushed into the estuary at Barry Dock, lashed together, towed out by the Lewis Alexander and then dragged ashore before being moved to the farm one at a time.’ Life on an island, even so close to urban civilisation, can certainly be tough.

Only a few miles from the noise and bustle of Cardiff Bay, we felt we’d really been transported to another world – so much wilder and quieter. It was quite difficult to get your head around the fact we were technically still in the domain of Cardiff. However, before we had time to fully take in our new surroundings, we had been introduced to the Flat Holm staff and were being escorted up a surprisingly steep flight of stone steps (particularly given the island’s name) to begin our short island tour, which, by necessity, had to be brief, given the tidal stopwatch dictating the length of our stay. 

All at sea: fast forward into the Estuary

Roof trusses ready for unloading on the MV Lewis Alexander, 1990 (photo: Dave Worrall)

Our group of day visitors listening intently to the tour given by Steep Holm’s warden

Remains of military hardware lie silent and unused

A celebration of the first-ever radio transmission over water in 1897

Island heritage and history

As we walked along grassy paths through the gentle slopes of bracken and scrubland to the other side of the island, we began to realise this was no toy town, neatly planned island, the stuff of story books. Instead, there was a seemingly haphazard assortment of historical artefacts, from rusting military paraphernalia hugging the island’s shores to farmsteads and other buildings in various states of disrepair strewn across the island. As we learnt from our tour and a quick visit to the museum (a v busy room housing a few curiosities and display boards in the old barracks) many of these remains are indeed cultural treasures which help tell the island’s unique and sometimes troubling story. 

The tour guide whisked us through the centuries. He told us about the island’s important strategic position and defensive role, not that we needed much reminding given the amount of military detritus lying around. From Victorian barracks and the remains of a Second World War radar system to a labyrinth of wartime bunkers and tunnels, there’s plenty for visitors to explore. There’s even an eighteenth-century cannon and four major gun emplacement sites. The latter form part of the Palmerston Forts, a chain of defences around the British coast to deter the French from invasion, when Anglo-French relations were deemed somewhat strained and there was increasing concern about the strength of the French Navy. Whilst never used and grossly expensive, these Palmerston Follies, as they’ve been sometimes been, are quite a tourist attraction. They may be even paying back some relatively meagre financial rewards. We were shown the Lighthouse Battery with its Moncrieff pit, an ingeniously designed stone pit for a huge, ten-tonne, disappearing gun. We were even allowed to explore this sunken gun pit and some of the surrounding stone tunnels, much to the delight of many in our group. 

Then we were taken to see an outdoor arts exhibit nearby which commemorates the first-ever radio transmission over water, between Flat Holm and Lavernock Point. Almost hidden by surrounding bushes and stunted trees, this sculpture is considerably more low-key than that recently unveiled in Cardiff Bay, a twelve-foot-high wooden analogue radio! May be just as well for Flat Holm, given Marconi’s supposed and misguided links with Mussolini’s Fascist Party prior to World War II. However, global communications wouldn’t be the same today without these humble beginnings of wireless telegraphy, and it’s thanks to the persuasive powers of George Kemp, a Cardiff-based Post Office engineer, that Marconi set up his experiments here anyway.

The unmanned Flat Holm lighthouse with a Moncrieff pit (for a disappearing gun) in the foreground

The disused foghorn, now a silent partner to the lighthouse, was restored by the Flat Holm Society in the 1960

After the tour, we explored a few more sites for ourselves. Unfortunately, time was getting limited, and we didn’t want to miss the one and only boat back, so we could only view the old farmhouse from a distance. Now the island’s social hub and home to the warden and volunteers, these tidy, white-washed buildings would once have been the centre of the island’s farming community before the turn of the nineteenth century when they were converted into the short-lived Flat Holm Hotel, replete with bar and skittle alley. Fortunately, we did just have time to quickly sketch and photograph the silhouetted chimneys and derelict remains of the abandoned cholera hospital. In use from the late nineteenth to the early twentieth century, this had defended the City of Cardiff, not from a military invasion, but from the throes of this terrible disease, brought here by unfortunate seafarers who’d travelled the globe.  Strangely alluring and photogenic, I struggled in the silence of mid-afternoon sun to imagine the cries of the poor souls, afflicted with cholera, who’d been kept in isolation here. I do so hope that Natalie’s dream world will come true and that eventually the cholera hospital will be fully restored. I’m not so sure about the buzzing residential visitor centre which she imagines, but some further recognition of these unsung heroes, particularly the amazingly dedicated and brave staff who’d worked here, would be good.

The dilapidated remains of the old cholera isolation hospital with views of the Welsh coast in the distance

Before – the farmhouse during renovations in the mid-80s

After – the farmhouse as the current island’s social hub and home to staff

Natalie meeting with John Craven to feature on Countryfile

An early school group helping with monitoring surveys in the late 80s

Wild leeks grace a view across the still waters of the Channel towards the North Somerset coast

The Gull and Leek, the most southerly pub in Wales

The island’s natural environment

Prized for its wildlife interest and being a Site of Special Scientific Interest and Local Nature Reserve, we had arrived with great expectations. But late autumn doesn’t make for a nature safari: the gulls, including the lesser black-backed gulls (Larus fuscus), for which the island is famous, had left several months ago. At least no hard hats were required to cross the island this time – I distinctly remember my last visit years ago, struggling to cross the island, huddled under jackets, trying to avoid the constant attacks from dive bombing gulls. In stark contrast, this time, we were treated to a few moments of solitude and island magic as we contemplated our lunch spot, gazing out across the serene blue waters of the Channel. No wonder so many have been lured to the island as a retreat, from the Vikings to the Celtic saint, Saint Cadoc who lived on the island in the 5/6^th century. Even our three former Flat Holm wardens still treasure their memories of feelings of ‘remoteness and isolation.’ Dave comments that it was the combination of the ‘island’s remoteness, isolation, it’s fascinating natural and cultural heritage, whilst also being in sight of the capital city of Wales and in the middle of a busy shipping lane for those using the ports and harbours of the Severn Estuary,’ which made it such a special place for him. 

As we sat eating our lunch, we were enchanted by the sound of waves lapping gently along the shore, only rarely interrupted by an occasional bird call from the elusive water rail (Rallus aquaticus) and the rustling of dried bracken, as rabbits hopped by only feet away. Fortunately, for me, with my phobia of snake-like creatures, we didn’t see one of the island’s unique slow worms (Anguis fragilis), famous for their large blue markings. Mercifully, neither did we encounter the rare special flesh and bone-eating beetle (Dermestes undulatus) which holds on here as its last stronghold in the British Isles. With such rare and important species, it’s heartening to know that there’s an active management programme on the island, the Flat Holm Project. This project, which has been going on for decades, makes its mission to try to conserve the island’s important natural and cultural features.  It’s a real success story. It’s featured on national TV, as Natalie Taylor, who’s in charge of projects including the Flat Holm Project for Cardiff Council, is keen to point out. However, for me its main success lies in its long-term monitoring of the natural environment. Through regular monitoring in all weathers and conditions, project staff, helped by armies of volunteers, having amassed an invaluable and enviable amount of quality data. From spring gulls counts to invertebrate and litter surveys, there’s data, and, now, as I understand you don’t even have to go to Flat Holm to explore some of the wildlife data (see: BBC News). Using an interactive digital map in Cardiff’s Techniquest science museum you can now access data updates on flora and fauna – all in relative warmth and comfort and without even having to worry about whether you’ll get cut off by the tides.  A great development which provides yet greater access to even more people.

We enjoyed our brief encounter with the island’s nature over lunch, short though it was. Many of the cliff tops were graced with beautiful displays of autumn colour. Most memorable were the stately seed heads of the rare wild leek, Allium ampeloprasum. I certainly agree with Peter Finch’s description of them as ‘triffid-like and magnificent.’ On our visit their slightly dishevelled pompoms rose a metre or so above the cliff tops, framing spectacular views of the Channel behind and affording me lots of photo opportunities, as you’ve probably guessed from flicking through this article!  No wonder too that this is Cardiff’s County flower and part-inspired the name of the island’s only pub, the Gull and Leek.

New perspectives

Having finished our lunch, we spent a few moments savouring the spectacular wide-open vistas of the Estuary and Channel from our unique vantage point. Hopefully, these pictures capture a little of the essence of these views. As I watched sailing boats gracefully glide across the water, I reflected on how boundaries drawn up for management purposes might appear somewhat arbitrary and theoretical. However, since my involvement with SEP, I’ve been very aware of the importance of this location from a management point of view. I also was reminded of what is generally regarded as the technical edge of our estuary, an imaginary line between here, Steep Holm, Lavernock Point and Brean Down. Indeed, this represents the approximate seaward limit of most of SEP’s interests. It also marks the edge of the estuary for other management purposes, particularly related to water quality and natural coastal processes. In this context, the exact position of this boundary has been the subject of many an academic article. It hasn’t gone uncontested by local communities either, who’ve frequently identify winners and losers across the boundary divide. This imaginary line is also now very much in my mind, as SEP Chair, given that the Severn Estuary Commission is currently exploring the potential for sustainable energy from the estuary’s tides for the Western Gateway pan-regional partnership. As the Commission has no capacity to do new research and has to rely more-or-less entirely on previous evidence, I gave more than a passing thought to the conclusions of the 2010 Severn Tidal Power Feasibility Study as I looked across towards Steep Holm.  This study’s report suggested a ‘Cardiff to Weston Barrage’ was ‘feasible.’ Was I looking at what would become an historic landscape?

Returning across the island at pace, hopefully by the same grassy paths as earlier, we were relieved to find the one and only signpost on the island, reassuring us of the route back to the jetty (not that there weren’t some obvious landmarks easily visible all around us!) With a little time in hand, the signpost became a key photo-opportunity and talking point for us and our fellow travellers – clearly, we’d all been bitten by the magic of the island and were intrigued by our new offshore orientation! Even though I’d been aware of the origins of name Holm (which means ‘island in an estuary’ in Old Norse), I certainly didn’t know that there is another island with a lighthouse, with an almost identical name, Flatholmen, off the coast of Norway

Looking across the Channel towards Steep Holm

An artist’s paradise – sketching the view towards Brean Down in glorious sunshine

Relieved to find the one and only signpost on Flat Holm

A glimpse of the Penarth coast between the mighty limestone cliffs at Castle Rock

The stone-clad water catchment, supplying the island with freshwater

Some final reflections on island challenges

As we approached the jetty area, we passed a small flock of endangered Boreray sheep. These shaggy, almost feral beasts were introduced to the island from Scotland a couple of years ago. The hope is that these new grazers will create ‘critical nesting sites’ for the declining lesser black-backed gull colony, but I hope they won’t suffer from lead poisoning either. Unfortunately, the seemingly wild grasslands are not as pristine as you might think. A legacy from former silver mining has left some island soils polluted with lead and other heavy metals. This means that the land is suitable only for grazing for land management and not for food farming possible, even centuries after the short-lived mining activities ceased. Human endeavours to stem other pollution-related issues on the island have met with varying degrees of success. The restoration and capping of some of the massive urban landfill sites, such as Lamby Way and Ferry Road in Cardiff, over the last few decades, must have stemmed the botulism issue. However, there’s still a constant tide of litter despoiling the island’s shores every day according to the staff member who was waiting to see us safely off the island.  Amongst the items picked and recorded each month are lots of plastic dog toys, presumably mislaid by dog walkers on local beaches. Messages in bottles and creepy dolls have also been found alongside a miscellany of other plastic discards from modern society.  

However, it’s the day-to-day existence on this remote isle, with its exposed climate and extreme tides, which creates the biggest challenges for those living, visiting or indeed often just visiting Flat Holm. Looking down the steep steps towards the jetty it was clear that even providing basics, such as drinking water, power, heating, food and waste disposal, never mind internet access, is fraught with difficulties and logistical problems. Natalie, who was the warden for several years, informs me how power, heating and water have to be ‘managed carefully, because we have no mains services and have to rely on PV (photovoltaics – solar energy), driftwood, rainwater and back-up gas and generators.’ Clearly, even just staying warm can be challenging at times and the weather dictates how much power we generate.’ Natalie even recounts her memory of listening to the shipping forecast on the VHF especially on those dark, windy, rainy wintry days early in the morning was really comforting.’ Slightly difficult to imagine on our visit on such a calm and warm autumn day!   Dave remembers the hard times before the water catchment area was renovated when they had to transport the island’s entire water supply in water jacks. Nowadays, fortunately, the island’s water supply comes from an ingenious and impressive water catchment area, which we’d been able to see first-hand earlier in the day. This mighty stone-clad structure catches rainwater which then runs down slope to feed a large underground storage tank housing the island’s water supply. Waiting for our return boat, one of the current Flat Holm staff somewhat sheepishly told of us of the team’s excitement when a Chinook helicopter once did an extra special pizza delivery whilst officially doing a practice landing on the island. I’m sure such guilty pleasures are forgivable though, as life on Flat Holm, whilst only four miles from Cardiff, is pretty tough at times, especially in the long dark winter months. 

Final thoughts

As we skimmed across the water away from Castle Rock, it wasn’t difficult to imagine the ships which had run aground or the smugglers who’d plagued the island in previous centuries. Within minutes, however, these thoughts and the wildness of Flat Holm seemed so far away as we stepped back onto the busy quayside in Cardiff Bay. However, my head was still buzzing with thoughts about the island and its future, especially given its inherent vulnerability, lying so close to Cardiff and the other urban centres around the Estuary. Although Flat Holm has been described by Wyn Mason as a ‘wild haven in a human-centred world’, humans have already made a significant and lasting impact on this small isle. Indeed, all the previous warden have expressed to me their concerns about future pollution and climate change impacts. And yet, perhaps surprisingly they were all relatively hopeful about the island’s future, as am I. As I’ve realised from my visit, some really creative innovations have been stimulated by tackling the island’s challenges. The hope is that new sustainable solutions will continue to be developed here and that the fine balance between hosting visitors, like me, and the island’s ecological needs will continue to be maintained. As Natalie stresses, we certainly need people to show an interest in ‘maintaining safe and thriving environment and caring about nature and heritage here.’ May be the island will become that sustainable icon and a ‘prime example of sustainable living’ and ‘beacon of nature conservation, heritage and educational opportunity’ and an ‘ongoing retreat centre for those wishing to have a respite from modern life and amenities’, as Natalie, Dave and Jan hope.

I recommend a visit if you’ve not been there before – it really will change your perspective of the estuary and your place in it. Before you go, I’d suggest you explore the Flat Holm Art Project’s website, which Natalie’s rightly proud of. Here you can undertake a 2D tour of the island’s landmarks as well as enjoy a wealth of poetry and other place-based art, inspired by the island and its heritage.  There’s even the Singing Lighthouse, a sonic odyssey, of intriguing sounds recorded on a visit from Cardiff – and it’s nearly as good as going there in person! I certainly hope we’ll be brave enough to visit in person again, but next time during the gull season, earlier in the summer, when we’ll also be able to see the wild leeks and the rock sea lavender in bloom and may be even have time to visit Wales’ most southerly pub.  

The Celtic Pioneer returning to Flat Holm to take us back to Cardiff

Back ashore in Cardiff Bay, delighted with memories from my retirement present (photo: Geoffrey Ballinger)

Established nearly nine hundred years ago, in 1136, just outside the then city walls of Gloucester, the priory was built to house retreating Augustinian canons who had been given a hard time from the locals around their ‘parent’ Llanthony Priory in the Vale of Ewyas (now within the Brecon Beacons National Park). They liked it in Gloucester and stayed. Indeed, the priory became not only a significant religious centre but, also, like most other medieval religious sites in and around Gloucester, it grew into an important education establishment. As well as running schools in the local area, the priory’s canons also provided hospitality to locals and visitors. However, it was for its cheese-making that were best known in the early sixteenth century. Not Double Gloucester cheese (sorry I haven’t researched that), but ‘Lanthony’ cheese. This, alongside the first lamprey of the fishing season, was sent to the sovereign at Windsor every year. Today, the view to the river is blocked by various industrial premises and other buildings, so, unfortunately, the only reminders of the Severn’s proximity are exhibits in the Information Room: a reproduction of John Speed’s 1616 ‘map of Glocester’ and a copy of Thomas Harral’s 1824 illustration which shows sailing ships in front of the priory’s remains. Clearly the river was a vital resource here for many centuries. Indeed, Speed had highlighted in his supplementary text the ‘special glory’ which the Severn bestowed on the good gifts of the land.

Thanks to a major recent restoration project, you now can begin to appreciate the significance of this site and you can admire some of the recently restored medieval structures, especially on a lovely sunny afternoon. However, given the site’s complex history since the priory’s dissolution in 1539, the remains you see today are only a small portion of the original buildings, and, as the caption below indicates, even the original function of some of the buildings is a bit of an enigma. According to Ray, there’s also the faint possibility that the nursery rhyme ‘Humpty Dumpty’ may have its origin from a supposed incident on the priory walls during the Siege of Gloucester during the English Civil War in 1643! Hmmm… I’m not that convinced, even though Ray was quite persuasive – it seems like Colchester also lays claim to this momentous event!

The half-timbered range of Llanthony Secunda Priory – this building poses more questions than answers in terms of its original use– was it a storage facility or even a stable?

Reflections of the impressive Victorian (1830s-40s) warehouses of Main Basin

One of the many colourful narrow boats along the canal close to the Docks

Although I’d love to have had time to visit all twenty or so other sites which form part of the Gloucester Medieval Trail, I needed to explore the Docks and their connection with the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal, as I’d intended. Well, if Purton had seemed like a neat model village on my last walk, Gloucester Docks could have been a backscene for a model railway, or even a film set for a Victorian thriller. They were certainly impressive. Imposing, tall and slender brick-built warehouses rose proudly from the quaysides and their long reflections shimmered in the grey still waters of the canal and docks – quite a photographer’s dream even on a greying afternoon. No wonder these are considered the best-preserved example of Victorian Docks in the country and recently have been awarded the highly prestigious Heritage Harbour status earlier this year. Studying the names of the narrowboats kept me amused for quite a while –Nut Cracker, Amber, Evolution, Wildlife, Little John and Sabrina, to name just a few. However, it was the combination of slightly quirky public art sculptures and actual historical artefacts dotted around the docks which made me curious to find out more about the history of this the most inland of ports in Britain, where inland waterways and seagoing vessels have come together to define the maritime edge of the estuary.

As I was to discover from display panels around the Docks and a fascinating visit to the National Waterways Museum, there are nearly two hundred years of maritime history here. There are innumerable superlatives too – back in 1847 the largest wet dock in the world was constructed here; at their peak, the Docks employed over 3000 people. Certainly, the completion of the Sharpness Canal in 1827 was a turning point, enabling Gloucester to compete with Bristol as a port, given that the treacherous waters of the Severn could now be avoided between Sharpness and Gloucester.   Gloucester Port had other advantages compared with its southern rival: its proximity to the Midlands, its superb rail links and lower costs. No wonder that it became a major hub of activity in the 19th and early 20th Centuries, boasting significant trades in grain, timber, wines and more, including petroleum products in its later years.

A striking crane on its old tracks in front of North Warehouse. This was the first warehouse to be built in 1826/7 and had stored corn, wines and spirits

The Candle, or the Rusty Needle as some locals refer to it, rises 21m above the quayside and has lines from the poem, Requiem, by Gloucester Ivor Gurney, engraved around its base (and, as you can see, was quite tricky to photograph!)

What the museum perhaps lacks in genuine historic vessels, however, was made up for by an interesting selection of smaller artefacts and most particularly by a display featuring a series of short video clips from old sailors who’d lived and breathed the waterways. Drawn in by their rich Gloucester accents and their passionate delivery, I sat alongside a huddle of other visitors to listen to their fascinating stories. Chris Witts painted a vibrant picture of his life on the river and canal. However, for me, Roy Beckett’s recollections were particularly poignant. He vividly describes his working life on the waterways, which began when he was only fourteen years old. He makes no bones that it was a hard life – ‘you never stopped, never… working in all weathers,’ being paid ‘by the trip and tonnage.’ However to Roy, the Docks in their heyday had been ‘really something special,’ and ‘in every way… magic,’ including the ‘sound of the mills’ in the evenings, ‘the gas lighting’ and even ‘the smell around the dock.’ 

I came back out onto the dockside by the museum reflecting on Roy’s comments. Had the ‘magic’ really gone? Those very ‘magical’ docks had fallen into disrepair in the 70s before finally closing the following decade, as ship size and competition from road transport increased, and petroleum works were relocated further south on the estuary. Whilst many may just get a romantic interpretation of Gloucester’s maritime past from the nearly scrubbed up quaysides today, I was delighted to discover that there is still an active maritime industry here. The rich maritime history lives on with a number of specialist companies undertaking ship restoration and historical ship building. T. Nielsen and Company with its extensive facilities and dry docks, has not only achieved worldwide recognition for its work with historic timber ships but has also earned a reputation for its provision of specialist skills for film and TV studios requiring specialist marine structures, boats and rigging. The hulls of some of the historic vessels undergoing maintenance and restoration certainly made for quite a picturesque photo. However, the masts of the most notable vessel in the basin, Kathleen and May, the last remaining three-masted topsail trading schooner, were clearly under wraps, as the vessel undergoes routine maintenance. What a sight it must have been during the Tall Ships Festival earlier this year, when this and other schooners were afloat in the Docks! I’m excited to learn that the next one, in 2027, will be an even more impressive celebration, to mark the bicentenary of the opening of the Gloucester -Sharpness Canal and the docks.

A dry dock facility dating back to 1853 is still used for boat restoration by the  T. Nielson Company

Historic vessels, including the hull of Kathleen and May, moored in the Main Basin

A blend of old and new off the Main Basin in Gloucester’s Historic Dock area

New apartment blocks complement converted warehouses with around the Main Basin

The Docks – a redevelopment triumph?

As I walked back to the hotel I was surprised to see that the areas of dereliction and scruffiness, which I vaguely remember from a previous visit years ago, had all but disappeared. An immense redevelopment programme has clearly taken place here to restore and showcase this special architectural and historic site. I was struck by the cohesiveness of the redevelopment, particularly compared with some other maritime redevelopments in the UK where you have to look hard to discover any maritime past between featureless modern retail units and apartment blocks. Here old and new effectively complement each other (although I do have my own views about retail outlets and chains which might jar here). It is a thriving area– even on an October afternoon, there was a constant hustle and bustle as people went about their sightseeing, shopping and other recreational activities. Certainly, on the surface it seems like the multi-million restoration project, which was one of Gloucester’s ‘Magnificent Seven’ regeneration sites following an unsuccessful bid to host the 1992 Olympic Games, has been more than worthwhile. As I understand it (from reading more widely around the history of Gloucester’s redevelopment) there have also been many lessons learnt from the process of regeneration here, particularly ones associated with the complex interplay between the various interests at play, aptly described by Atkinson and others as a metaphorical ‘bowl of spaghetti’.

I was very aware of the continuing restoration around the Docks as I detoured around cordoned streets and alleyways to find my way back to the hotel at the end of my first half day’s exploration.   Bakers’ Quay and environs are the last piece in the redevelopment jigsaw, having lain vacant for over a decade. Apart from the much-needed restoration of a malthouse and warehouse, the construction of a 10 storey tower as part of this final redevelopment scheme, has been, and is probably still, controversial. Described as both a landmark and an eyesore by the local new media, it was no surprise to learn from a BBC Gloucester News story that permission from the planning committee for the developers to go ahead had only been granted by the smallest of margins. I certainly hope it will complement the existing Dock area.

Some of the most recent developments in the final phase of Dock regeneration

Part of the Bakers’ Quay redevelopment site – the c1838 Pillar Warehouse projected over the dock to enable cargoes to be directly hoisted off ships

Industrial vistas and pollution along the northern section of the canal

Scenic reflections of modern industry along the canal

Sitting comfortably, waiting for ‘anything to bite’ (probably bream)

As the sky darkened further, the prospect across the canal of a warm Costa was most appealing but I continued on my mission to reach the river itself. As I quickened pace, I was overtaken by various canal users – narrowboats, kayakers and keen rowers from the Gloucester Rowing Club, some of whom were practising their timings alongside their buddy cyclists… hmmm, yes, on the tow path! As I walked south, the urban landscape gradually gave way to pleasant woodland areas and attractive banks replete with almost ornamental russet autumnal plants bearing a multitude of different seed heads. I learnt later this is part of the Gloucester Nature Park, a new project masterminded by the Gloucestershire Wildlife Trust and partners, which will transform some of the undeveloped land around the Severn to create new accessible habitats alongside other environmental benefits. Clearly, the local people I spoke to are very much in favour of such an endeavour. Just before I took the turning off along the road towards the river itself, memories of the Sharpness canal section came flooding back –  swing bridges, gaily decorated longboats with their pretty flower pots and even a bridge-keeper’s house almost identical to the one I’d photographed at Purton.

The Sims Swing Bridge and some more narrow boats

Teasels and other autumnal foliage form fascinating natural art creations along the canal bank

Chris Witts’ ‘adolescent’ Severn near Elmore

The first flotilla of debris following recent rains

In researching locations for this month’s walk, I not only stumbled across a website pointing me in the direction of the top five walks in Gloucestershire, but also another informing me that Sharpness Docks have just celebrated 150 years since their opening.  So, it seemed timely to explore this part of the estuary, particularly given that next month we’re going to be in Gloucester for the Severn Estuary Forum, at the other end of the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal.   It was also an opportunity for me to touch base with one of my former students, no less than ‘Barney’ (Paul Barnett, Chair of the Friends of Purton) to find out more about the Purton Hulks, one of the Estuary’s key maritime historical sites.  So, one reasonably sunny Saturday, I set off to sample the section of the Severn Way between Purton and Sharpness and to delve into some of the estuary’s maritime past.

Sampling the Severn Way: the tow path

Arriving at Purton car park, I felt I’d walked into a neatly laid out model village.  As I admired the sprucely painted cottages, the attractive little church and the pseudo-classical styled canal bridge keeper’s house, I half expected Rosie and Jim or Postman Pat to appear.  There were certainly quite a number of colourfully painted narrow boats trundling along the canal but there was also a fair number of kayakers and paddle-boarders.  Together these kept the swing-bridge operator extremely busy, much to my initial fascination, but my later frustration, when trying to cross the canal to retrieve my long-awaited lunch from the car.

I can certainly recommend a stroll along this section of the old tow path along the Gloucester to Sharpness Canal, although at a weekend you certainly won’t be alone as cyclists and fellow walkers are aplenty.   There’s not only water-based activity to entertain, but, at this time of year, also glorious hedgerows abounding with autumn fruits – if only there’d been time to pick some more blackberries, elderfberries and even sloes.  I did manage to salvage some fresh mint leaves though and we enjoyed Severn mint sauce later in the day with our Welsh lamb!   Image Severn gin though?!  I digress ….  Breaks in the hedgerow revealed occasional glimpses of the Estuary itself –  mud flats were emerging with a falling tide and across the waters the reddish colour of the  cliffs near Lydney  was just visible against a rather dull grey sky. Enjoying the warm autumn sunshine and the gentle putting sound of the narrow boats gliding along the canal, it was difficult to imagine this canal in its heyday when it was the main artery for ships between Sharpness and Gloucester.  Built to avoid treacherous tidal waters, sandbanks and the infamous meander of the Severn around Arlingham, the canal, when opened in 1827, was the broadest and deepest in the world no less!   A proper ship canal which enabled all sorts of vessels including even oil tankers to reach the inland port of Gloucester, where we’ll pick up the story in our next walk.  Even up until the 1960s the canal had been busy with commercial traffic.  The occasional bollard and waymark are some of the few reminders of this important maritime past, all immaculately tidy thanks to the current owners, the Canal and River Trust.  

The Upper Swing bridge and ornate bridge keeper’s house at Purton

A tranquil scene along the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal

A ferro-concrete barge, Hulk FCB 68, rising above the grassy waves.  The National Historic Ships website notes ‘This was one of thirty nine such vessels built during World War II. These concrete barges were the test beds for the Mulberry Harbour temporary and portable harbour system for the D Day landings.’

Visitors exploring a ferro concrete barge, FCB77, built in Barrow in Furness in 1941 and beached 1962

The last of the Purton collection, another ferro concrete barge built in Barrow in Furness,  FCB75, beached here in 1965.  Barney informs me that she’s lying above the 1900 Monarch, the largest Severn Trow ever built – more about those in my next article

Maritime nostalgia – Purton Hulks and the old Severn Railway Bridge

I soon arrived at the information board introducing the Purton Hulks site where quite a few other visitors were gathered.   Immediately, however, my eye was drawn to the remains of the massive greying concrete barges which were emerging from the mud, seemingly floating within a sea of long maritime grasses.  ‘They’re both strangely ugly and beautiful’ remarked one of the visitors.   A photographer’s dream site, as some of the following photos hopefully suggest, but also an important maritime historical site and sea defence as well.  

Barney, Paul Barnett to the wider world, was keen to point out the importance of this site when I caught up with him later.   The Purton Ships’ Graveyard is a national treasure, being the largest collection of beached vessels in England. It includes the remains of over eighty ships from ferro-concrete barges to schooners, trows, dockyard and other work boats, from right across the UK.  These vessels had been stripped of their identity, however, before being deliberately beached along the estuary’s muddy shores.

It is, however, an accidental museum, being a quick fix solution to allay erosion of the riverbank and to protect the thin sliver of land between the river and the strategically valuable Gloucester-Sharpness Canal.  Following the collapse of about sixty metres of foreshore one day in late December 1909, AJ Cullis, Chief Engineer of the Dock Company, advised and instructed that a number of redundant barges be run aground to protect the shore.  This was to be the shoreline management approach for this stretch for the following sixty years, with further beachings in 1946, 1951, 1962 and eventually 1965.  Even now, the shoreline management policy SHAR8 of ‘no active intervention (with local activity only)’ until 2015 for this stretch, suggests that these vessels and the muds which have engulfed them, are providing adequate protection and have been real value for money!   Indeed, Barney remarked that there appears to be about 15 cm build up of sediment every year along much of the site and was convinced that sea level rise associated with climate change would have little effect. Today, decaying remains of vessels rise out of the mud and grasses, much to the delight and interest of visitors.  There’s a rusting stern and fragments of a wooden schooner emerging out of tall flowing grasses, whilst other almost unidentifiable remains are engulfed by blackberry bushes and other shrubs.  And there are even more haunting relics emerging from the mud – each has a story to tell and evokes memories of the rich maritime history of the Severn and beyond.  The Friends of Purton, steered by Barney, have made it their mission to research and share details of each relic.   So, thanks to them you can spend some time reading the plaques and contemplating the history of each vessel.  However, for some of the more overgrown sites, trying to match remains with plaques, becomes more like a game of hide- and-seek.  Fortunately, Barney was able to check my photos so I’m not misleading you with the following interpretations –  here’s just a small selection from my extensive Purton collection!  

Discussing the site with Barney later, I realised that, whilst the site is designated for its nature conservation value, it has been a struggle to get recognition of the site beyond relatively local interest from the community.   Following much vandalism, arson and theft, alongside  degradation due to natural processes, there was much deliberation about the site’s legal status and protection.  This even included discussions in Westminster.   There were also various land ownership issues to be unravelled. Eventually, only Harriett, the last known example of a Kennet-built barge, was declared as a scheduled ancient monument.  Well, as Barney wryly noted, this is one of the few hulks here that ‘looks like a boat.’  He seemed remarkably unperturbed, suggesting that this designation provides ‘a sort of blanket cover’ for the site, given the vessel’s location relatively high up above the shore.   He was, however, keen to point out the maritime historical significance of the Dispatch/New Dispatch (shown below), which he considered to be a more worthy contender for legal protection.  It seems like this 1888 schooner exhibits the only known examples of Fell’s Patent Knees. Nothing to do with a sailor’s anatomy, but special iron braces which helped keep deck and hull together in storms.  Fell’s special knees were also a useful substitute for oak braces at a time when quality oak timber was in short supply.  The new braces also provided greater flexibility than the wooden versions.  On a positive note, Barney did note that there had been a welcome reduction in wanton vandalism and misuse with the significance of the site becoming more widely known.  Whilst recognising that natural processes may subsume a ‘further 20% of the maritime artefacts, following the loss of 25% of the maritime historical interest …. over the last twenty years,’ he suggested rather poignantly that the ‘rusticles’ should be ‘left in peace to regain their pride.’   

The rusting stern of Abbey, a 1900 Gloucester-built wooden barge, which was beached in 1956

The remains of Harriett, the last known example of a Kennet built barge, which was beached in 1964

Harriett, moored near Bristol bridge, October 1934 (with Tug Medway alongside) (photo by kind courtesy of Paul Barnett)

The jaws/ remains of Dispatch (remained New Dispatch) –  a topsail schooner built in Speyside in 1888 and beached decades later in 1961

Dispatch in full sail (photo courtesy of Paul Barnett)

Returning to the tow path and looking out across the estuary in the deteriorating visibility, I was just able to pick out some long grey-brown structures mid-channel.    It turns out these are the wrecks of the Wasdale H and Arkendale H, two tanker barges which came to grief one foggy night in 1960 whilst transporting their cargoes from Avonmouth to Worcester.  Not only did the two vessels collide with each other, but they also hit one of the piers of the Severn Railway Bridge and caused a massive explosion and fire which could be seen for miles.  This tragic event and a further collision the following year, led to the closure of the bridge and the demise of the operations of the Severn Bridge Railway Company which had operated this railway line for coal transport from the Forest of Dean to Sharpness docks.   Today, further along the tow path, I came across a plaque and memorial to this event alongside the remaining two rusticated stone piers of the bridge, the rest having been demolished over fifty years ago.   Framing the canal, these piers have been compared with the entrance to Gondor in the Lord of the Rings, but on a rather grey autumn day, they looked somewhat less impressive.

A distant glimpse of the wrecks which perished following a collision with the old Severn Railway Bridge

The remaining stone pillars of the old Severn Railway Bridge

A brief encounter with Sharpness Docks: today and yesteryear

Arriving at Sharpness Marina, I’d reached the end of the canal – the lock gates providing access to the Estuary’s waters firmly and permanently shut.   On a calm, grey day, this was a ‘quiet haven’ for a motley collection of canal-touring vessels, rather than the bustling maritime hub which it must have been back in the day when the canal opened in 1827.  The handsome and imposing old dock building which once would have been buzzing with activity, was also quiet today, even though this now the home to the Severn Estuary Rescue Association (SARA). Unfortunately, the chandlery was closed so there was no ice-cream to be had, so a quick walk up the hill to the Sharpness Sports and Social Club for a cup of tea was a necessity.   Once the Sharpness Hotel, built to accommodate navvies building the docks, the slightly faded brick Club building today not only provides for locals but also for a surprising number of visitors, who come from all over Britain to stay in the shadow of Sharpness Docks in their campervans and even to sample the Saturday curry nights – quite a local attraction, run by volunteers.   Although an old poster reminded me that I’d missed the 150-year Sharpness Dock celebrations on entering the Club, I was still able to study and admire a most interesting collection of old photos of the docks –  yes, it really had been possible to walk from one side of the dock to the other across the vessels! Given my limited time I had to make do with a very rapid reconnaissance of the edges of the current docks.  There wasn’t much activity to see, but it was late on a Saturday afternoon.   I’m very aware that this remains an important inland port with Sharpness Dock handling ships of up to 6,000 tonnes (with cargo).  They can service a wide range of bulk cargoes too, including cement, fertilizer, timber and scrap metal.   There’s even a Leading Lights website which you can visit to see when the next vessel is arriving or departing so you can plan your photographic opportunity – another time, hopefully.

Final thoughts

Although I’ve done a relatively short walk this month, there’s been plenty to explore afterwards as I’m sure you’ll agree.  I hadn’t realised how much local history is packed into our estuary’s shores but also how much our local communities value, care for and promote the heritage of these areas, both locally and regionally.  Barney and the huge efforts of the Friends of Purton have certainly provided me with new glimpses into our Estuary’s glorious maritime heritage.  I’m really looking forward to revisiting the site now that I know a little more about the history of the area, but it will be on a Sunday afternoon so I can test the cream teas on offer at the church in Purton!   In the meantime, alongside our Severn Estuary Forum I’m planning to visit the other end of the canal at Gloucester next month.   Hopefully, I’ll see you at the Forum or may be even along the canal?

The Marina today

The old dock office, now home to the Severn Estuary Rescue Association (SARA)

Sharpness Docks today

An intense heatwave saw my original plans for a walk along the estuary between Sharpness and Aust with Environment Agency staff suddenly shelved. On a hot calm day – well, of course, the Severn Bridge (Pont Hafren) was the obvious place to be. So, with little preparation I set off to experience the estuary from yet another, bird’s eye perspective. This time I was accompanied by my husband, Geoff, who had grown up in Alveston, and who I thought might be able to provide some local detail, albeit he’d moved to Kent at the age of 10. Not entirely sure how long the walk would take or indeed exactly where to park to access the path across, we ventured out in the late afternoon sweltering heat which now, a few weeks’ later, it’s rather difficult to imagine!

The walk

Some Googling enroute led us to an uninspiring industrial estate on the edge of Chepstow where several bloggers suggested there was access by foot to the bridge. After a little exploration we eventually found signage associated with the Severn Bridge 5k Parkrun – phew, I thought, only 5 km! Passing under the M4 and admiring the wacky graffiti of the underpass, we located the path which surprisingly led up us through a delightfully calm and relatively cool woodland towards the bridge.

The sound of the roaring traffic rudely broke our peace as we ventured through a somewhat intimidating steel gateway onto the dusty path across the bridge. This was, of course, the Wye Bridge (Pont Gwy), which, at 408 m long and with its two towers, is quite impressive in its own right, though hardly noticeable when driving over ‘the’ bridge. Immediately, we realised this was not going to be an entirely pleasant experience, though: the thunderous vibrations from passing lorries alongside the near constant roar of other traffic were not only deafening, but meant that you had to be really careful not to step out from the narrow footpath onto the cycle/motor bike lane. Only the eastern, seaward footpath was open today due to maintenance work, so it was busy with other walkers, cyclists and even motor bikes. Much to our surprise we realised that the bridge is part of the Land’s End to John O’Groats long-distance cycle route! Well, if I was somewhat hot and sweaty crossing the bridge, others must be steaming, given the size of some of the panniers on their bikes.

Geoff posing in front of the graffiti in the Severn underpass

The slightly unwelcoming and intimidating entrance to the bridge walk!

Thunderous traffic hurtling along the Wye Bridge (Pont Gwy)

Two of the many friendly cyclists crossing the bridge

Vistas and troubled waters

Eventually, I managed to block out the intruding noise to be able to admire the amazing vistas afforded by our elevated position along the bridge. Indeed, our bird’s eye views, alongside the ever-changing light and tides, made for a most memorable and, as the poet, Vikram Aarella, notes in their poem on the bridge, an ‘awesome’ experience. Not only were the hidden worlds of Beachley Barracks and the now infamous Tracey Island (St Twrogg’s Island, see my July blog) revealed, but the long shadows created by late afternoon sunshine enabled us to pick out all sorts of coastal features along and the near the shoreline –embankments forming vital coastal defences to miles of valuable agricultural land and the inter-city railway line, complex but beautiful vegetation patterns in the saltmarshes, as well as intricate tidal creeks, channels and gullies traversing the emerging intertidal mud flats for which our estuary is so renowned. Less well known are the ephemeral shapes of mythical beasts, crocodiles and other creatures which appear and disappear with the incoming and outgoing tides along the shore!

Once on the Severn Bridge proper, the distant panoramic views down the estuary were even more breathtaking, despite the slight haze. The wide expanse of the estuary’s waters is so impressive from mid-bridge, and the Prince of Wales in the distance looks so incredibly small. Capturing such views on camera on an ever moving, vibrating platform, was far from easy, however.   Thankfully though, due to some careful planning (watching for breaks in the ‘heavy’ traffic and locating more stable, locations on the bridge, notably near the towers) and the use of exceptionally fast camera speeds, I eventually captured some half-decent photos to share with you. Unfortunately, you’d have to get up exceptionally early to do better and even writing a blog for SEP e-news is not worthy of that…

One of many vistas from the bridge – this one even reveals the ancient, medieval field patterns in the coastal plain.

Embankments and multiple shorelines along the Welsh coast

Mythical beasts along the muddy shores

Distant views from the Prince of Wales bridge across the emerging mudflats

The chocolate turbid waters swirling below the bridge

The dramatic Triassic cliffs at Aust

Having reached ‘the other side’ and aware of the dimming light and our much-reduced water supplies, we swiftly took our proof of passage photos (unfortunately, of dubious quality so not reproduced here!) before retracing our steps over the bridge, hopefully to take considerably less than the two hours it had taken to traverse the estuary on our outward walk.  Despite our best efforts not to stop on our return, there was the inevitable photo opportunity to wonder at the newly emerged shorelines and even wider expanses of mudflat which had appeared since our outward walk, and also to study the ‘dog bones,’ best explained in the next section on bridge innovations!

Self, unsuccessfully trying not to squint into the bright sunlight, near the centre of the bridge

The bridge – engineering innovations

Though constructed at a time of black and white television, and classic cars such as the Hillman Minx, Ford Cortina and Ford Escort, and completed in the year (1966) when the Monkees came to our TV screens and to some people’s walls (!), this is a bridge which leaves you impressed whether viewed from afar or on foot. The height of the towers, the lengths of the wire cabling and the gradient of the arching road/path, are all to be wondered at as you amble across the bridge – things you take for granted when travelling at speed by car. You also don’t really appreciate the huge efforts in engineering and construction which enabled such structures to be built and indeed to survive to this day, still supporting a major road artery nearly sixty years later. As we learnt from our scrutiny of the many plaques along the bridge, both the construction and refurbishment of the bridge, had come at some human cost, as lives had been lost during both phases.   

I learnt later that this mighty bridge was many years in the design and development – perhaps a noteworthy point for other current proposed infrastructure projects in the Bristol Channel. Early engineering design proposals and associated wind behaviour studies in the 1940s and early 1950s, following local and national interest, were initiated and then abandoned by Government. However, these formed a useful context for later developments. This was never going to be a ‘plug and play’ bridge under the guidance of the eminent, chief engineer Gilbert Roberts. This notable individual had already completed pioneering work on high tensile structural steel and the use of welding instead of rivets for large steel structures (including ships) which had reduced the weight and subsequent costs of such structures. He had even been involved in the Forth Road Bridge which preceded the Severn by a few years. Dampening the Severn Bridge’s potential vibrations and oscillations, as well as keeping the weight of the bridge to a minimum in order to reduce costs, were key drivers in our bridge’s design. This resulted in several innovative features including the use of (cheaper) single cell box girders, a particular hanging of the wire-rope hangers and even shop fabrication of some sections, some of which were built by Fairfield-Maybey in Chepstow before being transported by river to the site. Such was the innovation involved in the Severn Bridge’s design that Roberts received multiple prestigious awards for his efforts, before being sought after to design bridges and other structures all around the world, including the famous bridge across the Bosphorus. However, there were some sceptics, including one eminent engineer who feared that the first fall of snow would see the Severn Bridge collapse! Fortunately, that never happened although there has been more than one occasion when the bridge has been closed due to high winds. The increasing volume of traffic crossing the bridge, however, was never envisaged during the 1960s. By the 1970s the bridge was reduced to single lane traffic prior to strengthening and restructuring in the late 1980s. Eventually, even this wasn’t enough to cope with the burgeoning demand, leading to the construction of the Second Severn Crossing (the Prince of Wales Bridge) in 1992. 

One of the plaques along the bridge, commemorating one of the bridge’s lesser-known tragedies

One of the mighty towers supporting the Severn Bridge

An impressive, if slightly scary view down to a bridge support (photo by Geoff Ballinger)

A dogbone, Stockbridge damper on a road support cable

Later engineering additions to the Severn Bridge were the somewhat mysterious dogbone structures attached to the road support cables, which we couldn’t help but notice as we plodded back towards Chepstow in the searing heat. These specialised Stockbridge dampers with their notable dumbbell shape help suppress wind-induced vibrations, reducing stress and fatigue in the cables. Designed by the Australian inventor and aviator, Philip Dulhunty, who also produced the world’s first battery-powered laptop computer, these dogbone dampers, apparently are a considerable improvement on the classic Stockbridge dampers devised in the 1920s. Minimising bridge oscillations has certainly attracted engineers’ attention ever since the dramatic collapse of the 1940 Tacoma Narrows Bridge (Galloping Gertie) into Puget Sound in Washington State. At least we weren’t subjected to any such wobbling, but then it was a very calm afternoon…

The bridge – social engineering

As we approached the gates at the end of the Wye bridge and returned to the relative calm of the woodland we were able to chat (at last) and began to reminisce about our childhood memories. I remember the excitement of viewing the bridge and estuary from the old Severn Services enroute to a holiday in Cornwall. I recalled admiring the grace of the technological wonder as we drove over the bridge, albeit our excitement was slightly marred by the anxiety of finding the correct change for the toll booths on the Welsh side. Do take a look at Natalie Pithers’ wonderfully entertaining and vivid description of her childhood memories of crossing the bridge which echo some of my recollections and feelings.

Geoff fondly remembered his mother’s palpable excitement on attending the official opening of the Severn Bridge by HM Queen Elizabeth II. He also recalled crossing the bridge by car for the very first time – “a very small family car replete with odorous dog, Spike, and my parents’ friends, Frank and June, and their boisterous children. I also remember that visits to my uncle and aunt, who lived near Hay-on-Wye had used to involve a long car journey via Gloucester with the small treat of seeing an illuminated match as we passed the England’s Glory factory. Suddenly dad could drive via a more direct route over the bridge, bypassing Gloucester altogether – although he did have to do a lot of fumbling in pockets to find the toll charge. My childhood memory of approaching Wales was the sight of Beachley Army barracks and a large structure which I was convinced was part of an obstacle course recruits had to climb. Our recent walk revealed it was actually the camp chapel! As a child we sometimes took visitors to see and walk on the new engineering wonder. I have no memory of the noise of lorries – maybe lorries were quieter then!” Suddenly, afternoon excursions to South Wales for picnics were a fun and fashionable thing to do too. The coach loads of South Walians descending on Bristol for a day out were a talking point for the local Bristolians, particularly given the new visitors’ somewhat unfamiliar accents. Such was the excitement and interest in this new structure, that poems were even written about it.  The one reproduced (left) is probably the best-known, though it was rather contentious at the time. From what I remember, it reflected negative feelings towards the bridge tolls and associated comments about ‘paying to enter Wales.’

What better way to explore the estuary, but aboard the famous paddle-steamer PS Waverley for a rare chance to cruise under the bridges. Join me and my travel companion, visual artist Heather Green, on our half-day cruise to discover more about this wonderful vessel, the last ocean-going paddle steamer in the world, and to learn about some of the delights of sailing in this dynamic, tidally dominated environment.

The PS Waverley – the star of the show?

Sleek and graceful, the recently refurbished PS Waverley glid across the grey sea towards Penarth Pier, watched and photographed by an almost silent, expectant crowd of onlookers. Clearly, the long-standing tradition and popularity of leisure paddle steamers in the Bristol Channel is still alive! Despite being dwarfed by the pier, the Waverley herself promised to be the star of the cruise with her handsome red funnels, well-polished decks and nostalgic charm. There were few thoughts of the possible fragility of such an old vessel, reliant on, what I later discovered, was eighteen century technology – the first ever paddle steamer appears to have been built in France to sail the Doubs.

Once settled onboard, I took an obligatory visit to the recently restored engine to admire this gleaming, mighty piece of engineering on which we would depend to carry us safely and swiftly through the potentially treacherous waters of the upper estuary. Standing among a throng of awe-struck onlookers, we all watched intently as the pistons moved back and forth, providing a reassuring and regular clunking accompaniment, seemingly from a by-gone age. Although the paddles themselves are now largely obscured, their flickering shadows were just visible through misted-up glass windowpanes.

PS Waverley approaching Penarth

 A glimpse of the maritime charm of PS Waverley

Waverley’s engine being admired by keen onlookers

The elegant dining saloon

KEY FACTS ABOUT PS WAVERLEY: Built in 1946 by Inglis in Glasgow, it is now the last seagoing paddle steamer in the world, listed within the UK National Historic Fleet as “a vessel of pre-eminent national importance”. It is powered by a three-crank diagonal triple-expansion marine steam engine. The Waverley underwent a major £7m rebuild in 2000 and 2003. For technical details from the Paddle Steamer Preservation Society, click here.

Despite our excellent viewing position on the aft of the observation deck, we eventually ended up, along with what seemed to be nearly everyone else onboard, in the restaurant, not only to warm up and to partake of traditional refreshments (yes, chips were involved), but also to rediscover the nostalgic charm of this art deco dining saloon with its fine wood panelling and elegant ceiling-mounted glass lights.  We were also delighted by the different aspect afforded by the low perspective of the wide saloon windows as we waited reasonably patiently for our evening meal. The charms of the wood panelling did, however, being to fade as we waited SO long, trying not to stare at the mountains of chips being devoured by fellow passengers.

The offshore perspective

As I’m sure you’ll have experienced – one of the fascinations of a cruise is to see your surrounds from a different angle.  Earlier in the day, as we swept out into the Channel, swiftly leaving the pier behind, the scale, openness and expanse of the offshore quickly began to dominate – new geographies of the islands and coast constantly emerged as the resorts and cities which hug the shores receded into the distance. Would we glimpse the ‘dark side of Steep Holme?’ anxiously asked one passenger – well, no, but we would be treated to lots of photographic opportunities and the full range of Severn Shades of grey, green, blue and brown, worthy of a Farrow and Ball or Little Greene colour card, certainly not just the ‘grey-brown’  offered by Peter Finch in his recent book ‘Edging the Estuary’.

A running commentary pointed out key historical landmarks and other attractions along the way.  We learnt lots of new facts about the former and current uses of the coast.  Did you know that there was a nautical college at Portishead, the National Nautical School which, had been created for ‘destitute, neglected and often delinquent boys from Bristol, but which now, like many other imposing buildings with a sea view, has been converted to residential apartments?  Are you aware that there is a tanker storage facility on the coast close to Portishead which supplies Gatwick with aviation fuel?!  Have a look at these online photos to see the scale of this impressive site which was constructed as a Government Civil Reserve in the mid-1950s by ESSO.  I’m sure many of you who have driven along the M5 will be aware that Bristol Port has hectares of vehicle storage but you may be less aware of the large number of giant onshore wind turbines along the waterfront here.  Certainly, the marine perspective offers new glimpses into our estuary’s frequently hidden shores.

Penarth receding into the distance behind the ship’s wake

Passengers on deck sampling the delights of a Waverley cruise

Interesting as the commentary was, neither this, nor indeed, the curious offshore views, managed to entertain certain of the few younger passengers onboard. There was a plaintiff ‘are we nearly there yet?’ query from a very small traveller nearby, merely five minutes after embarking. Enterprising parents quickly devised a game of eye-spy buoy bingo and we were well entertained listening to many excited exclamations, as buoys of various shapes, ­sizes and colours were spied. However, as the game progressed, we were very much aware of the youngsters’ and parent’s confusion as the parent attempted to respond to the question, ‘if that’s a ‘boy’ then where are ‘men?’ May be an opportunity for future educational cruises and commentaries? There may also be a possible role for SEP to supply further information on the natural environment for future cruises?  All good stuff in the commentary, but sadly no information about the natural environment, nor in any of the many available purchases in the ship’s tiny onboard shop. 

Engineering connections – bridges and piers

If the intensity of the clicking of mobile phones and SLR cameras was an indicator of passenger interest, then the piers and bridges were certainly the main acts.   No surprise perhaps given both Penarth and Clevedon piers are rightly celebrated and have been so over much of the last century: indeed, the poet Sir John Betjeman considered Clevedon Pier ‘the most beautiful in England’ and more recently, in a 2024 National Trust survey, Penarth Pier was voted ‘the most special place in Wales’. Even on a somewhat grey dull day, the elegance of the art deco ironwork on Penarth Pier and the Japanese-style pagoda at the Pierhead on Clevedon Pier, was immediately apparent. However, the sheer size, design and strength of the ‘undercarriage’ of both piers was their most impressive feature, as we peered up at them from the deck of the Waverley. Even more amazing was thinking about the perilous construction of these structures in the first place, in such an inhospitable environment and with relatively simple technology –  I learnt afterwards that, not surprisingly, the first attempt to build Clevedon Pier, as early as 1837, had been thwarted by rough seas, causing the structure to collapse.  As we watched the volunteers supporting passengers onto the vessel at Clevedon and Portishead, I was also reminded of the immensely impressive community endeavours associated with these structures. Over many, many decades, local communities have come together to fight and raise money for the restoration and maintenance of these notable landmarks, frequently and seemingly sometimes against the odds, in the aftermath of various storms, natural and economic. What was evident on our short trip was that this community spirit continues.  Even onboard, as passengers from all embarkation points mingled and shared their experiences in a fascinating range of regional accents, new connections were visibly and audibly being fostered across the Estuary.

Clevedon Pier from the deck of PS Waverley

KEY FACTS ABOUT CLEVEDON PIER: 310m long and with 4.3m clearance at high water. The pier opened on Easter Monday, 29th March 1869. It helped provide a new, fast route to S Wales until the Severn Railway Bridge Tunnel opened in 1886. The pagoda and shelters were added in 1894, fashioned on Nash’s Brighton Pavilion. 1970 saw the dramatic collapse of part of the pier. ‘Vocal local support, heritage engineering expertise and lottery funding‘ enabled the Pier to be voted ‘Pier of the Year’ in 1999! The pier has Grade 1 listed status.

KEY FACTS ABOUT PENARTH PIER: At just 200m long, the pier allows shipping access into Cardiff Docks. It was opened to the public in February 1895. The art-deco style pavilion on the landward side was opened on 18 May 1929. An original wooden pavilion on the seaward end was destroyed by a fire in 1931. The pier was closed for repair work for two years after a ship crashed into it in a gale in 1947. Following some difficult years, various restoration programmes resulted in the Pier voted ‘Pier of the Year’ in 2014! The Pier has Grade 2 listed status.

Even though most of us must have crossed both Severn bridges innumerable times before, to sail under them offers a new perspective on the old and familiar, and in this respect the cruise certainly didn’t disappoint. Indeed, as we sailed under these massive structures and their mighty supports were revealed, the onboard excitement was palpable. Surprisingly, there was no audible cheer – only the ship’s horn broke the relative silence on deck as we finally emerged upstream of the old Severn Bridge.  There was then a flurry of activity onboard as people pointed SLRs and mobiles toward the bridges to capture that precious moment, and to take the inevitable selfie. Whilst neither bridge may not be as long or as high as other notable bridges in the UK, these elegant structures are integral to our estuary’s identity and, as such, should be celebrated. Indeed, the Severn Bridge still is the central feature of our own, Severn Estuary Partnership’s logo.

The ‘new’ pavilion on Penarth Pier

The bridges not only provide vital connections for modern day society but are also significant feats of engineering, particularly given the underlying geology and tidal currents in the intervening stretch of water. I can remember coming back from SEP meetings and crossing the ‘old’ Severn Bridge back in the 90s, and wondering at the seemingly slow placement of pillar supports for the ‘new crossing’ – would they ever get to the other side? It took four years, but I can vouch from my brief inspection of the underneath of the bridge, that it’s a very solid piece of engineering and does span the entire estuary! Apparently too, this bridge has been built to withstand an earthquake or, indeed, a ship collision – the tragic fate of the railway bridge over the Severn at Sharpness. More about all these bridges in subsequent postings!

A Severn Bridge pillar from below

A novel perspective – the Prince of Wales Bridge from below

Surprisingly, a few passengers were almost more impressed with other nearby attractions than the bridges themselves. The Old Ferry Slipway at Beachley drew quite a crowd of onlookers, but it was the ‘That’s it – Tracey Island!’ exclamation from a nearby passenger which was most unexpected. Seemingly, Chapel Rock resembles the famous Thunderbirds’ island and has been a landmark and useful distraction for some young families for many years! Researching the island, it’s actually quite a significant feature in its own right, although from the deck of the Waverley it didn’t really look much. The island, which has had no fewer than four names, apparently, attracted pilgrims and saints from far afield, or, should I say, afloat, back in the day. More about these Celtic connections in future walks, I think.

A rare sighting of Tracey Island from offshore!

Tidal waters run deep (just deep enough)

The perils of navigating the tidal currents and the constantly varying water depths of the estuary were obvious from the start of our voyage.  When we were ushered quickly onboard at Penarth, it was that ‘time and tide’ were certainly not going to wait for anyone, not even the most iconic of historic ships, even one which has a relatively flat hull and a draft of only 1.9 metres.   

There were also frequent references to the ever-changing tidal state of the estuary in the commentary too, particularly as we approached the upper estuary and sailed between and under the bridges. Taking onboard pilots to help our safe passage, we wound our way in what at first appeared to be a most bizarre route, to follow the deeper tidal channels between and under the bridges. I briefly reflected about the geomorphological history of the Severn and wondered at the origins of these ancient river channels, as well as the human endeavours to chart these precarious waters.

There were further reminders of tides later on in our cruise. As we disembarked at Penarth there was a somewhat anxious and then forceful request for the remaining passengers going on to Clevedon to move to starboard. This was the point where I hoped the earlier intake of chips by some of the passengers would pay dividends! The ship then very gently tilted over slightly, enabling us to climb the now steep gangway. Would we all make it? Assistance was indeed required for some of the more elderly clientele, but fortunately this time, at least, we all did alight onto the pier!  Hopefully, all the remaining passengers also caught the tide at Clevedon later in the evening. This all reminded me of a couple of previous Severn Estuary cruises. There was the cruise which followed a previous Severn Estuary Forum when packed lunches were almost thrown at forum delegates as they were ushered with great haste out of the Penarth Paget Rooms and down to the pier to alight the MV Balmoral. There was also a slightly less happy memory – being stranded for many hours offshore and sampling much of the ship restaurant’s menu as we waited for the tide to oblige and let us disembark at Penarth! 

Conclusions and further thoughts

So, overall, despite the final somewhat undignified climb, a great day out in the Estuary! We might not have seen the dramatic cliffs of the North Devon coast or, indeed, the wildlife around Lundy, but it was a memorable, even if rather chilly experience. I’m already looking forward to the 2025 cruise season, hoping that SEP might be able to team up with the Waverley to input some more information about the natural wonders of the Estuary into their cruises and associated paraphernalia, particularly given some passengers’ comments about the need to go to Cornwall to see any marine life. Looking to future seasons, there’s also the possibility that the much-loved and most widely travelled excursion ship, MS Balmoral may join the Waverley if further funding for restoration allows. Beyond that, the ongoing refurbishment of 1867 Birnbeck Pier to future public use may, hopefully, eventually inspire further restoration of this listed structure to provide a new ‘port of call’ for cruises. Whilst we’re not likely to get back to the heyday of steam paddlers on the Bristol Channel, when supposedly over 15,000 people per day disembarked at Birnbeck, if the comments of our fellow passengers were to believed, there’s definitely an appetite for recapturing the nostalgia associated with the historic steam paddlers of the Bristol Channel. For me in the short-term, however, this short cruise has been a useful window on the Estuary and a reminder of all the stretches of shore still to be explored in my future walks! 

A shipping navigating the tidal waters of the Estuary

Self, onboard the Waverley

Do you have memories of cruising on the Bristol Channel?  Let us know if you have memories you’d like to share.

More to explore

Paddle Steamers in the Bristol Channel

• Weston Museum leaflet
• Paddle Steamers Info website
• Waverley

The Piers

• History of Clevedon Pier
• History of Penarth Pier

An opportunity to introduce our visiting visual artist, Heather, to an old friend from Barry, resulted in my May Walk becoming a pleasant stroll from Barry Island to Porthkerry along the Vale of Glamorgan coastline. Although this was a rather familiar, relatively local stretch of coast for me, sharing the experience with Heather and researching the walk afterwards revealed many fascinating aspects of this coast – it’s certainly much more than just the home of Gavin and Stacey! I hope you’ll agree!

Barry Island beach nostalgia

As the two-carriage train clanked its way slowly into the station at Barry Island on a grey, overcast Thursday in late spring, it was hard to imagine the bustling excitement of families armed with bucket and spades and other beach paraphernalia on sunny summer weekend trains. Walking through the deserted and somewhat tired-looking Fun Fair to the seafront, even the brightly coloured dinosaur didn’t instil too much of the Barrybados vibe which has attracted generations of South Walians to this iconic location.

Whitmore Bay looking towards the N Devon coast

Barry Island amusement park

Meeting with Heather in one of the many seafront cafes for brunch, there was a little more buzz; however, it still was quite a challenge to explain the significance of Barry Island to my guest. Heather looked slightly bemused as I outlined the history of the famous Majestic/Butlins Holiday Camp which had over many decades provided a unforgettable, unique holiday experience for hundreds of thousands of those ‘of modest means’ and which, along with other similar camps elsewhere along the British coast, had created a public nostalgia which had inspired the popular TV sitcom Hi-de-Hi. Now the site of a Bovis Homes housing development on Nell’s Point, I was struggling to recall my memories of thirty years ago, when the derelict holiday camp with its rows and rows of white, flat-roofed chalets which dominated the Whitmore Bay seascape. 

With a slight break in the clouds and a falling tide, we ventured onto the wide expanse of sandy beach which understandably remains such an attraction at weekends. The view across the Inner Bristol Channel to the Somerset and North Devon coasts always inspires and the gentle, relaxing sound of the sea lapping at the water’s edge is such a welcome break from the hustle and bustle of the promenade. However, frequent tannoy announcements periodically break the peace to remind you that this is an urban beach which must kept clean and tidy. The frequent instructions to dispose of your litter responsibly, alongside daily cleaning by local groups, does seem to be working, although the recent erroneous closure of the beach here due a malfunctioning water quality monitoring system has probably not instilled much public confidence (BBC news article). Unfortunately, the slightly brownish, turbid waters of the Estuary, are also frequently incorrectly interpreted by visitors as being dirty – clearly there’s lots of work for SEP and partners to do to try to educate the public on such matters!

Whitmore Bay looking towards the promenade

Shore treats –  Old Harbour to Watch House Bay

If you want to avoid the longer route hugging the main road to Cold Knap, crossing the wide expanse of sand at low water between Friar’s Point and The Knap is preferable, although you do have to negotiate a small stream which meanders haphazardly across the beach and creates quite a challenge for those ill-prepared for such an obstacle. Not only is the route much quicker, but it also incorporates many features of interest – even more than we’d anticipated, as you’re about to find out.

Given Heather’s interest in tides of the Severn, we made a slight detour on the beach to study the muddier backshore behind the Old Harbour. Notwithstanding the decayed remains of a stranded and abandoned boat and an obligatory beach traffic cone, the backshore is remarkably natural, given its location. A saltmarsh sequence has developed here which sports a variety of hardy, adaptable plants which can tolerate the harsh conditions of the intertidal zone. At the edge of the mud, we carefully stooped down to study some salicornia (samphire) but resisted gathering it to garnish future fish suppers! 

Salicornia and the marshy backshore with the current causeway

The Knap –  the lake, lido and limestone pebbles

Ascending the slipway onto the Knap one is immediately aware that the coast here has a much more genteel and relaxed feel about it.  Immediately behind the seafront immaculate public gardens surround a large artificial lake, the inspiration for Gillian Clarke’s poem ‘Cold Knap Lake’.  This poem, which captures Clarke’s haunting childhood memories of the lake, alludes to a very different, more chilling experience than ours.  Even the sizeable population of ducks and swans seemed to be enjoying the peace and calm of the Knap that day, silently huddling in groups around on the water’s edge.  Previously one of the largest cold-water lidos in the UK, there have been campaigns to rebuild the attraction, but, despite considerable celebrity and community support, these have not been successful in contrast to similar efforts at Clevedon on the other side of the Estuary.  However, I was to find out later that there are indeed new plans afoot for this area: an exciting local community scheme has been proposed to breathe new life into the iconic but somewhat dilapidated Old Lifeguards Building to create The Reef Coastal Exploration Centre (see inset below).

Knap Lake at Cold Knap

Y RÎFF/THE REEF: COASTAL EXPLORATION CENTRE, COLD KNAP – This community scheme hopes to transform this old building which was originally the cloakroom for the Knap Pool Lido in the 1920s before it became the home of the Rhondda (Cold Knap) Lifeguard Club. Plans include: A new up-to-date space for the Rhondda Lifeguards Club, offices for the Wales Coastal Monitoring Centre and an educational and community space. Find out more at: https://yriff.org/

Whilst the lake is a key attraction at Cold Knap for visitors and the many of the locals residing in the smart residential areas behind the seafront, it was the long pebble beach of gleaming white round limestone pebbles that appealed most to us.  This stunning, long, steeply-shelving beach stretches in a great arc from the Knap around the bay towards and beyond Porthkerry to the west.  This impressive natural feature is a reminder of the power of the sea and winter storms on beaches which are exposed to incoming southwesterlies.  We contemplated the incredible strength of the winter storms which had created the beach and each of the ridges on the beaches seaward side. We feared what future climate change might mean for this beach system, given the road and cliff will not allow the beach system to roll back.   Indeed, all the beaches we’d visited on our walk suffer from this same issue, making the problem of coastal squeeze a real likelihood.  No wonder that the community is being encouraged to get involved in the monitoring of the nearby beach at Whitmore Bay through the CoastSnap Project.

Storm beach at the Knap

The CoastSnap Project – ‘CoastSNAP, developed by the University of New South Wales, has become a beacon of community engagement and environmental stewardship. Over the past year, 3000 public-contributed photos have flooded in, capturing the ebb and flow of our dynamic coastlines. These snapshots serve as vital puzzle pieces, validating coastal surveys and informing our understanding of change in the face of rising sea levels. From storm events to the condition of coastal defence assets, CoastSNAP empowers us to protect our shores collectively.’  (Gwyn Nelson, WCMC). Find out more: General CoastSnap website: https://www.coastsnap.com/, CoastSnap in Wales: https://www.wcmc.wales/coastsnap

CoastSnap site at Barry Island

Walking across the pebbles of the more-or-less flat upper beach, our attention soon was diverted to watching the wind surfers who had presumably also conquered the demands of the descent of such a very steep beach on the seaward side!  Knowing that there is a National Coastwatch Institution station at nearby Nell’s Point (see below), we could relax watching thrilling acrobatics of fearless wind surfers who seemed to be enjoying the challenges associated with the increasingly choppy seas.   We also admired the pretty flowers of the many plants along the backshore which provided welcome bright dashes of colour against the grey-white pebbly beach. These include the occasional mauve native marsh-mallow alongside much more dominant plum and white valerians, presumably escapees from nearby gardens.

Wind surfer’s acrobatics on the beach at Cold Knap

National Coastwatch Institution (Nells Point) – ‘NCI Nell’s Point opened in 2017. Volunteers keep a daylight watch over the coast for anyone/vessel in difficulty and raise the alarm to Milford Haven Coastguard. Watchkeepers also respond to requests for information from the Coastguard on possible casualties etc. Sully Island causeway is a good example of how folks get into difficulty as it covers over at about half tide and folks unaware will be cut off. So, the watchkeepers at Nell’s Point will inform the coastguards who will arrange a rescue. Over the last 5 years or so there has been a significant increase in both water users and the type of personal watercraft used. Open water swimming, in particular, has increased greatly around Barry with new clubs and societies being formed.’ (Nick Rodgers, Barry). Find out more: National Coastwatch Institution

Flowers on the backshore at Cold Knap

No introductory visit to Cold Knap would be complete without viewing the site of the old roman villa, a late third century ‘mansio,’ thought to have been a guest house for travellers.  Set neatly and strangely in line with the modern neighbouring apartment properties, the floor plan of villa was very clear to us –  with over twenty rooms arranged around a courtyard, this was no ordinary B&B!   Given its proximity to the coast at the time (the gardens on the Knap are thought to have been an inlet of the sea), it’s likely that many of its visitors would have come by sea rather than by land although the A48 lies along the route of an acknowledged roman road.  Archaeologists suggest that the Romans would have needed many stopping points along the Bristol Channel given the capability of their boats at the time.

Roman villa at Cold Knap

Over the hills and not so far away, to Porthkerry

After our gentle stroll around Cold Knap we were in for some more strenuous exercise. The antics of a group of energetic sea gulls which were riding the thermals were, however, a most welcome distraction as we ascended the steps and steep grassy slope above the Knap.  As we continued along the coastal path towards Porthkerry, I was reminded of my first outing here after the initial travel constraints of COVID.   The view from the top of the hill of the wide expanse of the Bristol Channel offshore at the time had been quite stunning, almost shocking. Today, it was just a little dull given the greyness of the cloud cover and sea.  However, we were shortly into the beautiful deciduous woodland which hugs the coast and were soon admiring some of the majestic and mature trees which are so prized here. 

All too soon, we were descending an even steeper slope and longer set of steps down to Porthkerry Country Park.  With no time to look for the pirate treasure which legend suggests lies hidden beneath the Golden Stairs, and tired from our earlier exertions, we only made a brief visit to the pebbly shoreline.   Looking back along the storm beach to the Knap, we admired the impressive cliffs which surround the bay, reminiscent of those further west along the Glamorgan Heritage Coast.  However, even I did not have the energy to explain the geology at this point, so we made our way to the café for a very late lunch.  Crossing quickly over neatly laid out boardwalks and glancing at the many interesting information panels along our route, we soon realised that we’d really need to have another visit to really appreciate the attractions here.  So, we just sat outside and ate our well-earned lunch and enjoyed the view of the impressive Victorian viaduct which dominates the valley here, trying not to contemplate our return up those not so Golden Stairs.

View towards Cold Knap and Barry from Wales Coastal Path

Seagulls enjoying the thermals!

Porthkerry beach with information panel

The Victorian Viaduct at Porthkerry

Final thoughts­

Another fascinating coast where there is such diversity of shoreline within a relatively short distance.  Even on a relatively dull day, the seaviews of the islands and Somerset coast on the other side of the Channel are most impressive and so, why not sample these Barry delights along the Wales Coastal Path?   If my writing hasn’t tempted you so far, then I’m sure the perspectives of three very proud Barry locals, provided below, will inspire!

Whitmore Bay on a previous sunny day!

Simon is a civil and structural engineer by training and spent 20 years with consultants delivering multi million pound commercial and educational development across the UK and abroad. This also included the company acting as expert witnesses for maritime insurance companies and port refurbishment. He was appointed by Cambridge City Council as the first Sustainable Drainage Engineer in local government and worked in a multidisciplinary team on over a billion pounds worth of growth in the sub-region. He was an early proponent of this nature based approach to flood risk management. Elements of Simon’s work informed the development of the Flood and Water Management Act and he actively promoted the approach at national and international conferences, providing oral evidence at the Water All Party Parliamentary Group. He was a member of one of the first catchment partnerships and collaborated on delivering fish passes and other improvements on the River Cam. He was Honorary Engineer to Hobsons Conduit Trust Charity.

Simon Bunn, Vice-Chair of SEP

What are the walks about?

Although I’ve been associated with the Severn Estuary Partnership for years, since taking over as the Chair of the SEP Management Group and retiring from my academic post in Cardiff University, I’ve been keen to explore the shores of our Estuary further and to share my thoughts and photos in a monthly blog/posting.  Over the next twelve months, through a series of monthly walks around the Estuary, I hope to cover at least one section from every local authority’s shoreline.  As part of this project, I hope to meet people from around the Estuary and find out what makes the Estuary so special to so many.  Hopefully, it will inspire you too to get out and explore our Estuary too and share your observations and thoughts as well! 

If you’ve any suggestions for particular sections I should visit or people I should talk too please do get in touch through the SEP email (Severn@Cardiff.ac.uk)! 

View from path towards Penarth and Cardiff

April 2024 Walk: Penarth – Lavernock Point (Vale of Glamorgan)

To start off my series of walks, I had the good fortune to walk the Penarth to Lavernock Point stretch of coast earlier in the month with Heather Green, from Arizona State University.  Based in Cardiff University for the next few months, Heather is working around the Estuary with SEP and others on an interdisciplinary art project examining and celebrating the ecology and culture of our Estuary.

The Cliff Top Path

We started our walk along the cliff top path at Penarth, where the famous French impressionist painter, Alfred Sisley captured the character of this dynamic coast with its unique geology and spectacular tidal range well over a hundred years ago. Unlike the painting, there was constant hustle and bustle along the cliff path as we strode alongside dog walkers, young family groups and others enjoying the coastal vistas – well at least, until we reached the end of the tarmacked path.  This marks the end of a stretch of open green space fronting some impressive, spacious and highly sought-after detached houses.  Beyond this, we had the path to ourselves and were able to enjoy vistas across the estuary through occasional openings in the woodland.  However, along the entire path there were frequent reminders of the active, eroding nature of the cliffs, something we were to experience first-hand later in the day.

Lavernock Point

At Lavernock Point we ventured into the graveyard surrounding the little limestone church of St Lawrence. Founded by the monks of St Augustine’s Abbey across the Channel in Bristol, this was once the parish church for the manor of Cosmeston and associated medieval village. Now, its new neighbours are a small new housing development and the popular Marconi Holiday Village, with self-catering chalets hugging the cliffs to capture ‘spectacular views across the Bristol Channel.’

We reflected on how much the community here must have changed over the centuries, but how the whole land/seascape might be transformed further by some more ambitious proposals for tidal energy generation in the Severn, most notably the previously discussed ‘Cardiff Weston’ barrage, extending from this point across the Channel to Brean Down. We await the findings of the Western Gateway’s Independent Severn Estuary Commission which will ‘re-examine the potential for a world leading tidal energy scheme’ to see if and what will be proposed for the Estuary.

We were reminded of further estuary connections and great technical breakthroughs as we read the bronze plaque commemorating Marconi and Kemp’s historic achievement of 1897.  At this very point, on 13 May 1897, Marconi transmitted the first-ever radio transmission across open sea to Flatholm. 

The foreshore at Lavernock Point

Carefully traversing the cobbles and rocky shore platform at Lavernock Point, we were treated to broad open views across the estuary to the islands and beyond as well as hidden treats in the innumerable rock pools and on the rock ledges themselves.  As someone who occasionally likes to attempt landscape photography, the views across the Estuary always fascinate me.  The ever-changing tides, sea state, weather and offshore boat/shipping activities make for endless photographic opportunities, even if they’re not always realised!  Today, it was a particularly calm still day with little offshore activity although there was some distraction as the occasional but somewhat elusive oyster catcher flew by.

However, it was the ecology and geology of the ­rock pools and ledges and the artistic forms, textures and micro-seascapes created by them which were our focus on the foreshore today.  As Heather is particularly interested in our rich intertidal areas which are only revealed at low tide, we spent awhile, and with varying degrees of success (at least on my part), trying to capture these hidden worlds photographically.  In the slightly hazy mid-afternoon sunshine, the silvery mucus/slime trails of sea snails (molluscs) made intricate and complex abstract patterns on the rocks.  Innumerable limpets and white beach lichen encrusted the harsh environment of the rock ledges. There was also added visual interest from occasional periwinkles, oyster shells and whelks. The colour of some bright red shiny shells, really ‘popped out’ from the underlying wet grey limestone slabs. As the tide was still receding, we were also able to witness the ever-changing worlds of turbid shallow rock pools in the mid-shore which were supporting the delicate feathery branches of floating ‘Coral Weed’ (the red seaweed, Corallina officinalis) and various small brown, branching wracks.   

The similarities between some of the living molluscs on the shore and those from around 200 million years ago, now fossilised in the rocks and pebbles on the beach, was staggering.  The analogies continued – we were looking at our own mini-‘Jurassic Park, comprising alternating beds of lighter coloured limestones and dark shales from the Lower Lias (Jurassic).  These rocks were formed in a former marine environment, the configuration of which was controlled by an ancient Bristol Channel Basin.  Perfectly-formed fossilised ripple marks in some of the rock slabs lay strewn across the beach were lying on top of- or at very close to -ripples made only hours before our visit in the muddy sands of the foreshore.  The occasional impression of an ammonite, now of course long extinct was a reminder of the very different world of 200 million years ago.

The beach walk back to Penarth

Fortunately, we had a lovely calm day in which to explore the hidden gems of the beach and cliffs as we walked back from Lavernock Point as the tide began to turn.   This is a much-celebrated stretch of geology culminates at its southern end in the amazing sequence of rocks at Penarth Head which has been designated as a Site of Special Scientific Interest.  Unfortunately, on this visit we didn’t have time to explore Penarth Head itself or the site of the ‘dragon robber,’ meat-eating dinosaur (Dracoraptor hangigani), which was only discovered ten years ago close to Lavernock Point.  However, we were able to still appreciate some of geology of the foreshore and cliffs as we walked back in time, traversing the even more ancient rocks of the Triassic. The distinct and brightly-coloured red and grey green mudstones of this stretch of coast are the remains of lake sediments laid down when this part of the ‘estuary’ was experiencing hot arid, desert-like conditions – certainly, not like those we experienced on our walk!  Attractive pink and white gypsum forms distinctive, discontinuous bands in the cliffs along here, but given the active erosion that afternoon, we had to make do with just examining the large pink and white lumps of it which had recently fallen onto the beach.  Interestingly, there was a relatively small and short-lived industry just east of Lavernock Point, based on this mineral.  Alabaster, as it is more commonly known, was mined here from the 1872, and supplied many of the fine buildings of Cardiff with an ornamental stone particularly for indoor use.  Indeed, the main staircase of Main Building in Cardiff University, where the Severn Estuary Partnership Office is housed, is adorned with an impressive display of pink alabaster!

Apart from the lumps of alabaster on the beach, we had further reminders of active cliff and beach processes, including armoured mud balls, curious rounded balls of mud clad with small jagged stones, which were scattered across the foreshore.  Alongside the gentle noise of the sea lapping up on the beach, there was a constant ‘swish’ as slivers of shaley materials slid gently from the cliff profile.  Then, a great ‘thud’ sounded as a dining table-sized slab of limestone crashed onto the upper beach!   Unfortunately, the event was all over in a few seconds and, as I rushed to get my camera, all that remained was a small cloud of rock dust!  A combination of undercutting from the base of the cliff, the weathering effect of tree roots intruding into the joints and cracks of the rocks of the upper cliff and the impact of our recent extremely wet weather certainly were making their mark that afternoon as we witnessed a number of further mini-landslides, all of which eluded my camera skills.   As we walked further towards the seafront at Penarth, the need for human intervention for controlling these erosive processes became ever more apparent.  Toe-protection structures eventually made way for full sea defences in front of the RNLI lifeboat station and the promenade beyond, confirming the need for the Hold the Line shoreline management policy for this northern section of our beach walk.

Overall Impressions

Back on the esplanade in Penarth as we sipped much-needed beverages at one of several establishments, we reflected on our experiences from the walk.  Although I’ve walked this stretch of coast innumerable times before, introducing it to Heather had made me realise what a very special, unique sea/landscape this is.  There are not only breath-taking views across the Channel, but also hidden worlds and amazing ‘natural art’ in the rocks and rockpools.   Heather, whilst coming from the contrasting – and to us Severn folk, the much more ‘exotic’ tidal landscape of the Gulf of California – also seemed impressed with our ‘finds.’  Later commenting on some of her first impressions of our muddy shores, she highlighted the sense of mystery and the layers of history which have created our special shores. 

FURTHER INFORMATION ON THIS WALK

If you want to do this walk along the Wales Coast Path, make sure you’re prepared for the weather and please take note of the tides before you go, ensuring you do the walk along the beach on a falling tide. Suitable footgear is also essential on the somewhat slippery and large cobbles, particularly on Lavernock Stony Beach. 

If you want to find out more about this stretch of coast, check out the ‘Coast and Pier Walk’ – Sully to Penarth Pier Walk (5 miles / 8 km). See: https://assets-global.website-files.com/602452bf511ad639c3e8aab6/605ded4492408acf33e52ebc_5-Coast-and-Pier-Walk-online-leaflet-English.pdf

Further sources of information

Cosmeston Country Park and Medieval Village – https://www.valeofglamorgan.gov.uk/en/enjoying/Coast-and-Countryside/cosmeston-lakes-country-park/Cosmeston-Lakes-Country-Park.aspx

The dinosaur discovery at Lavernock Point – https://www.theguardian.com/science/2016/jan/20/welsh-dinosaur-bones-confirmed-as-new-jurassic-species

Marconi and Lavernock Point –

https://www.visitthevale.com/inspiration/whats-the-vales-link-with-marconi;

South Wales Geologists’ Association leaflet on the Penarth-Lavernock Point coast — http://swga.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/Walk_Penarth.pdf

Western Gateway and the launch of the Severn Estuary Independent Commission – https://western-gateway.co.uk/western-gateway-launches-severn-estuary-commission-cardiff#:~:text=The%20estuary%20is%20home%20to,of%20the%20UK’s%20electricity%20needs

Heather exploring the rocky coast at Lavernock Point

View from cliff top back towards Penarth (from a previous even sunnier walk)

The plaque celebrating the first-ever radio transmission across the sea

View from Lavernock Point across to the islands

Foreshore worlds near Lavernock Point

Some finds on the beach – red mudstones, pinky white gypsum (alabaster) and armoured mudballs

Active cliff processes along our beach walk

Evening at Penarth (Jan 2023)

Do you have a passion for working collaboratively with diverse stakeholders to drive positive change in coastal project development and coordination? An exciting opportunity has arisen for an enthusiastic individual to join the Severn Estuary Partnership (SEP) team as a Projects Coordinator.

SEP is a dynamic Coastal Partnership based in Cardiff, hosted by the School of Earth and Environmental Sciences at Cardiff University. Our mission is to collaborate with a wide range of stakeholders, including local authorities, port authorities, fishermen, farmers, and local communities, to enhance the management of the Severn Estuary.

We are seeking a dedicated Projects Coordinator to play a pivotal role in ensuring the successful execution of SEP’s initiatives. As the Projects Coordinator, you will work closely with a wide range of stakeholders to develop and coordinate projects that contribute to the sustainable management of the Severn Estuary.

The successful candidate will have experience of partnership working, engaging and managing stakeholders and great influencing and negotiation skills to help steer delivery of projects. You will have the aptitude to think strategically, while keeping on top of the detail. Excellent written and verbal communication skills will be needed, and brilliant inter-personal skills will enable you to work with people from different specialisms across different channels and situations.

Severn Tidings, our annual magazine, has just been published! This years edition includes articles written by a wide range of contributors from all around the Severn Estuary. We’ve got articles on litter, coastal erosion and risk management, the England Coast Path, saltmarsh restoration, coastal communities and much more! Take a look by clicking the link below.

If you are interested in contributing to our next edition, please do get in touch at severn@cardiff.ac.uk.