Sea & Tree.
Aug. 5th, 2025 12:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bunnWe've decided that we're going to sell the boat after this summer (it's not cheap to run, and the engine servicing & repairs in particular are painfully pricy). I'm going to miss being able to run down to the open sea and out to the islands in the spring, I know, so I'm making the best of it while we've got it.
Here we are leaving the village of Dale, where they have a pontoon out in summer for all the boats visiting the pubs and cafes. Sometimes the pontoon is so full of boats and children crabbing that it's hard to find anywhere to tie up.
Mooching round to Lindsway Bay - this one is accessible from the coast path, as long as you don't mind doing a lot of steps.
We have a plan to support our local Celtic rowing team, who are going to try to row to Grassholm (an island about 6 miles out to sea) in a few weeks time, when the tides are right. We made a trip to try to check the ocean currents, and picked a day when the sea was lovely and calm. Unfortunately it was also monumentally foggy.
We kept expecting it to clear, but it never did. I would absolutely not have risked this without the boat's excellent satnav and depth sensors, which meant we were not really running blind, since every rock and shallow spot is clearly marked, and we were well out of the shipping lanes.
Eventually we did get to Grassholm, a misty isle of birds very far from anywhere.
My misty phone snap does not really capture how very many gannets there were. The white bit is all either gannet faeces, or just gannets. And the smell of them! Fishy. There were a good number of seals hauled out on the island, too.
Where was the next trip? Oh yes, we went to Lindsway Bay again, but this time we swam. I was quite proud of my anchoring.
E, a friend with a waterproof camera came along and took that one, and also this one, of the boat at anchor once we'd swum ashore. It looked a surprising distance away, though it was only in fairly shallow water.
A few days later, I grabbed another friend, A, and we went to Sandy Haven at high tide. I've walked here with Theo at low tide, and there's just a tiny narrow stream with a little bridge over it going to these houses, and lots of sand. We were probably floating a few feet above the bridge here.
We left Sandy Haven, and motored around to the delightfully named Butts Bay, which has a little beach that is really only accessible from the water. A found some sea-glass and an interesting piece of driftwood. I found a round green stone that was perfectly formed and about the size of my thumbnail. I was braver here, and moored in just 1.3 meters of water, which was shallow enough that when we got out to swim, we could just touch the bottom, and as the tide was going out, by the time we got back in, it was only 0.8m. The only problem with mooring so close is that it's a bit of a fiddle leaving again, since you need a certain depth to get the propeller in the water. A stood right in the bow, which helped tilt the boat forward and give the engine a bit of extra water.
On Saturday, we went out again with the rowers. This time we took their Celtic longboat, and towed it down to the mouth of the sea, since otherwise they would be knackered by the time they got there. This all went fairly well, except that our tow-rope is possessed by some sort of sea-serpent, and just lives to knot itself around things. Still, once we had it stretched out, it had to stop doing that.
It was a perfect sunny day, this time, and the water was mostly smooth as silk (though we did have two close encounters with an absolute knob in a motor cruiser who went charging by the Celtic TWICE, creating the most difficult and bouncy wake both times, despite our attempts to signal him to slow up or go round. Fortunately nobody fell out and the longboat didn't flip.
They did indeed make it all the way to Skokholm, and almost all the way to Skomer, too - that is the island next door. We saw a lot of seals, but no puffins this time. I think maybe the puffins have already set off on their migration, since usually when we go to Skokholm, earlier in the year, there are puffins everywhere!
We had asked the rowers if they could take a few photos of the RIB looning around, from the Celtic, and they took some brilliant shots. I did not realise that the RIB leapt quite this far from the water while planing...
They took lots, but this with Skomer and Midholm island in the background was certainly one of the best.
We have two rowers on the RIB because they are rowing in shifts: four rowers and one cox on the Celtic, and swapping in two people from resting on the RIB every half hour. When we do the tull Grassholm trip (if the weather cooperates) we'll have a full shift of four rowers on the RIB at one time, so everyone gets a rest.
On the way back, we stopped in the sun for a swim, with Skokholm island in the background. The water was 27 meters deep here, so nobody swam far from the boats, though the sea was very calm and gentle.
That was a good day.
Tree News
The sycamore tree that was leaning perilously over the neighbour's house (with scary rotten side to the trunk) is no more! Pp decided to put it up as a 'job available' on Mybuilder, and we immediately got a contact from a shiny new young garden and tree management company, run by two shockingly young yet highly competent people who quoted very reasonably for the tree to be removed. They had the relevant certifications & insurances, so we went for it, and wow, did they work. They were here from about 10 am to after 8 and hung themselves by ropes from the tree with chainsaws to take bits off. Then they chipped it all, and took away the logs!
I asked their advice about the elm tree next to the sycamore, and was delighted to hear that they thought it was in fine fettle and needed no work done. You don't see that many elms about, so I really wanted to keep it (assuming it wasn't also a terrible peril to the neighbour's roof). It looks very fine now you can properly see the shape of it - though you can see it was sort of leaning away from the sycamore a bit. With luck, it will just fill out a bit on that side. There is the ever-present risk of Dutch Elm disease, but I am hoping that the wild sea-winds may be enough to keep the beetles at bay. Certainly there's no sign of DED yet.
I asked the tree guys to leave the big rotten stump of the sycamore in place, hoping it will continue to rot and perhaps become hollow and enliven the local environment. It may shoot from the left over bits, but if it does, it's now small enough that I can easily manage the shoots with loppers.
Here we are leaving the village of Dale, where they have a pontoon out in summer for all the boats visiting the pubs and cafes. Sometimes the pontoon is so full of boats and children crabbing that it's hard to find anywhere to tie up.
Mooching round to Lindsway Bay - this one is accessible from the coast path, as long as you don't mind doing a lot of steps.
We have a plan to support our local Celtic rowing team, who are going to try to row to Grassholm (an island about 6 miles out to sea) in a few weeks time, when the tides are right. We made a trip to try to check the ocean currents, and picked a day when the sea was lovely and calm. Unfortunately it was also monumentally foggy.
We kept expecting it to clear, but it never did. I would absolutely not have risked this without the boat's excellent satnav and depth sensors, which meant we were not really running blind, since every rock and shallow spot is clearly marked, and we were well out of the shipping lanes.
Eventually we did get to Grassholm, a misty isle of birds very far from anywhere.
My misty phone snap does not really capture how very many gannets there were. The white bit is all either gannet faeces, or just gannets. And the smell of them! Fishy. There were a good number of seals hauled out on the island, too.
Where was the next trip? Oh yes, we went to Lindsway Bay again, but this time we swam. I was quite proud of my anchoring.
E, a friend with a waterproof camera came along and took that one, and also this one, of the boat at anchor once we'd swum ashore. It looked a surprising distance away, though it was only in fairly shallow water.
A few days later, I grabbed another friend, A, and we went to Sandy Haven at high tide. I've walked here with Theo at low tide, and there's just a tiny narrow stream with a little bridge over it going to these houses, and lots of sand. We were probably floating a few feet above the bridge here.
We left Sandy Haven, and motored around to the delightfully named Butts Bay, which has a little beach that is really only accessible from the water. A found some sea-glass and an interesting piece of driftwood. I found a round green stone that was perfectly formed and about the size of my thumbnail. I was braver here, and moored in just 1.3 meters of water, which was shallow enough that when we got out to swim, we could just touch the bottom, and as the tide was going out, by the time we got back in, it was only 0.8m. The only problem with mooring so close is that it's a bit of a fiddle leaving again, since you need a certain depth to get the propeller in the water. A stood right in the bow, which helped tilt the boat forward and give the engine a bit of extra water.
On Saturday, we went out again with the rowers. This time we took their Celtic longboat, and towed it down to the mouth of the sea, since otherwise they would be knackered by the time they got there. This all went fairly well, except that our tow-rope is possessed by some sort of sea-serpent, and just lives to knot itself around things. Still, once we had it stretched out, it had to stop doing that.
It was a perfect sunny day, this time, and the water was mostly smooth as silk (though we did have two close encounters with an absolute knob in a motor cruiser who went charging by the Celtic TWICE, creating the most difficult and bouncy wake both times, despite our attempts to signal him to slow up or go round. Fortunately nobody fell out and the longboat didn't flip.
They did indeed make it all the way to Skokholm, and almost all the way to Skomer, too - that is the island next door. We saw a lot of seals, but no puffins this time. I think maybe the puffins have already set off on their migration, since usually when we go to Skokholm, earlier in the year, there are puffins everywhere!
We had asked the rowers if they could take a few photos of the RIB looning around, from the Celtic, and they took some brilliant shots. I did not realise that the RIB leapt quite this far from the water while planing...
They took lots, but this with Skomer and Midholm island in the background was certainly one of the best.
We have two rowers on the RIB because they are rowing in shifts: four rowers and one cox on the Celtic, and swapping in two people from resting on the RIB every half hour. When we do the tull Grassholm trip (if the weather cooperates) we'll have a full shift of four rowers on the RIB at one time, so everyone gets a rest.
On the way back, we stopped in the sun for a swim, with Skokholm island in the background. The water was 27 meters deep here, so nobody swam far from the boats, though the sea was very calm and gentle.
That was a good day.
Tree News
The sycamore tree that was leaning perilously over the neighbour's house (with scary rotten side to the trunk) is no more! Pp decided to put it up as a 'job available' on Mybuilder, and we immediately got a contact from a shiny new young garden and tree management company, run by two shockingly young yet highly competent people who quoted very reasonably for the tree to be removed. They had the relevant certifications & insurances, so we went for it, and wow, did they work. They were here from about 10 am to after 8 and hung themselves by ropes from the tree with chainsaws to take bits off. Then they chipped it all, and took away the logs!
I asked their advice about the elm tree next to the sycamore, and was delighted to hear that they thought it was in fine fettle and needed no work done. You don't see that many elms about, so I really wanted to keep it (assuming it wasn't also a terrible peril to the neighbour's roof). It looks very fine now you can properly see the shape of it - though you can see it was sort of leaning away from the sycamore a bit. With luck, it will just fill out a bit on that side. There is the ever-present risk of Dutch Elm disease, but I am hoping that the wild sea-winds may be enough to keep the beetles at bay. Certainly there's no sign of DED yet.
I asked the tree guys to leave the big rotten stump of the sycamore in place, hoping it will continue to rot and perhaps become hollow and enliven the local environment. It may shoot from the left over bits, but if it does, it's now small enough that I can easily manage the shoots with loppers.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-05 12:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-08-05 07:25 am (UTC)That's so fortunate about the young tree surgeons, I'm so glad they did a good job. I'm sure your elm is going to revel in its newfound air and light.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-05 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-08-05 11:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-08-06 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-08-07 07:54 pm (UTC)It's wonderful you still have an elm - long may it last.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-09 06:28 pm (UTC)Good you got such swift and efficient people to deal with the tree, they sound like they will be useful contacts if you ever need anything else done. I hope they stay in business :)