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Category Archives: Cornwall

t u r n

08:34 friday 31 december , penzance heliport

a thick fog shrouds land and sea . it has just been announced that there will be no service until visibiity improves . anna and adam waved a bleary farewell from their doorway in hayle just forty minutes ago .

the spirit will be waiting against hugh town quay shortly after eleven . i’ll be able to meet her so long as a flight departs from here by 10:30 .

this shall be my last crossing to the islands for the forseeable future .

21:47- rosevear , st agnes

just about to don my costume and walk down to the island hall . i was planning to lift some remarkable seventies clothes from my parents but was mortified to discover they had all been sent to jumble over the last year . so we cobbled together a sort of psychadelic african guise . could catch on …

the helicopter was delayed an hour by the fog , but i made it . had a chance to catch up with nick lishman on st mary’s . the first time i’ve seen him since the workshop was founded . lots to sort out for the next month .

some of my friends are already in the next millennium . my turn will come soon , and other friends a little later . there is a great sense of a sphere rotating majestically , a perimeter between lght and dark sweeping across a rounded surface .

the afternoon was clear , with wonderful vivid light .

chin chin everyone

see you next time

: cH

t w e a k i n g

991001.1550 hayle station , cornwall

three slightly ragged young girls , no older than seven or eight , were sitting on a fence as i wound my way here through the council estates . i pointed to a path forking off to the left and asked if it led to the station . < police ? > asked one of them brightly . she looked non-plussed when i explained that it was actually the * railway * station i was after .

23:54 sunday 3 october – watermill , st mary’s

i arrived back in the islands yesterday evening feeling refreshed and focused . i’ve been working for most of the time since then and enjoying it more than i have done for ages . anna and adam looked after me in hayle for a couple of days and i took the opportunity to visit dr randolph white in truro , an early mentor of whom i have not seen enough in recent years . it feels as though i’m back on some kind of track .

on friday night a trawler was lost off peninnis head , the jagged southern tip of st mary’s , in high wind and sea . she struck rock while most of her crew were asleep below deck , sinking so fast there was barely time to send up a flare . one soul was lost , a pendeen man on his first voyage , leaving a wife and two children . the lifeboat found the rest clinging to a gas tank in the water . these tragedies are felt closely .

the islands are windy , cold and beset by flurries of rain and hail . a lifestyle based in tent and stable becomes uncomfortable in such conditons . i am grateful for my great aunt ethel’s eiderdown which keeps me from chill . but as i sat writing in the workshop last night with hailstones bouncing on the papers and machinery around me i had a sense that it might be time to move on .

happily for me johann has had a cancellation and i will be able to move into rosevear , the house on agnes in which he was born , any time after next weekend . heaven forbid i should ever take solid walls , a watertight roof and ( gasp ! ) an oil-fired range for granted again . i expect to be joined sometime in mid november by nik shultz , an interactive designer from san francisco who will be working in the islands until easter . perhaps i mentioned that already ? quite a funky little hub of digital industry !

my last gloomy despatch provoked quite a range of responses , from a lovely account of endurance running in the scottish hills to plain old worry ( i’m okay mum , honest ) . i was grateful for them all . but i still don’t understand what mr godfrey from dad’s army has to do with it . perhaps you could explain , alistair ?

on the basis of people’s feedback it’s clear that i must abandon the practice of sending photos as email attachments . from now on i’ll stick them on the web and include a reference to the address .

oh , and i’ve decided to change the way i mark date and time in these despatches , as sharp-eyed readers will have noticed . my minimalist rows of numerals came to seem unnecesarily clinical .

having resolved to describe my project i’m trying to work out how .

so from me , adieu

: cH

r e v i e w

990925.1441 par station , cornwall

this is bleak . the rain is steady but lacks conviction . it barely raises a patter on the victorian roof , bulbous with a century’s grey gloss .

i sit on a wooden bench on which i already feel uncomfortable , though i have been here just a few minutes . in front of me is the asphalt platform . beyond that the rusting tracks , crowded with weeds , and a patch of dead land littered with old cable reels , palettes and concrete pipes . i hear a distant motor and the splosh of broken guttering . down the line a cluster of tall chimneys exhales pale grey vapour . a few transients loiter about me . nobody smiles .

perhaps i descibe myself as much as my environment ? if my state of mind were different would i find beauty here ?

the bristol train draws in , almost deserted . i board .

so this is to be another self-indulgent essay . i feel a growing frustration with my banal commentary . somewhere i lost the point of this exercise . when was the last time i tried to say something difficult ? how can i have spoken so little of my work ? there has been an occasional reference to a gloomy day , but almost as a formal exercise , a gesture . there seems to be little exploration , little creativity at work .

when i began this , back in the icy bluster of february , it was a simple matter . i was embarking on a new adventure and these despatches were a way of reporting back to a small group of friends , a thread between familiar and unfamiliar . i remember my excitement in those first weeks , returning from moonlit walks by the crashing rollers and struggling to convey the intensity of what i was feeling . no doubt the results would make me blush if i read them now , but my heart was in them .

then , as the audience grew and came to include people in the islands , the picture became less clear . i found myself growing circumspect and self-conscious , sensing constraints in what i could say . slowly i have caged myself in , become content with mundane reportage . until i find myself at this present point with nothing to discuss but the discussion . something must change . but i don’t yet know what or how .

.1640 virgin train , teignmouth , devon

the track runs along the red sandstone cliffs . far out at sea a beam of sunlight breaks through the heavy cloud and catches a solitary yacht’s sail , a brilliant white beacon between the lead grey of ocean and sky .

- – -

991001.0126 bodriggy terrace , hayle , cornwall

five days since my last writing . it has been a hard time . the questioning continues , seeping through my thoughts and activities . i don’t know where it’s leading .

but i think i must try to describe my project .

: cH

t w e n t y – e i g h t

990917.1527 scillonia digital workshop , st mary’s

here i am with mum ( on the right ) and her sister jill from canada . it’s thirteen minutes past five on my birthday . we’re on gwithian towans , a three-mile-long fringe of fine sand around st ives bay on cornwall’s north coast . we’ve just been swimming . the water’s not too cold and there’s just enough surf for bodyboarding .

later on we went out for supper , along with my sister anna , her husband adam and my old friend henry whom i’ve known since we were students together at truro school . i had a plate of lovely plump scallops . sadly dad couldn’t join us because of work .

for the first time email greetings outnumbered paper ones . and a couple of much valued phone calls ( you know who you are ! ) .

thanks everyone . i had a terrific day .

: cH

u p c o u n t r y

990424.1323 penzance , cornwall

at a table in a little diesel train beneath the arched roof of brunel’s terminal station , the very end of the great western railway . oh . the train stalls . a toddler across the aisle expresses his fear that we’re going to blow up . pre-millennial tension ?

the engine fires up again , a whistle blows , punctual departure .

as we trundle out into the sunshine the tops of sails are visible over the wall which separates the line from mount’s bay . perfect conditions . how i wish …

with every month i find it harder to leave the islands . this morning , as the little plane ascended and the familiar landscapes slid away beneath me , i found myself quite emotional . we flew over the scillonian ( the steamer linking the islands and penzance ) , coming into the eastern isles on a glittering azure sea . it’s a beautiful day .

excitement on thursday evening . gaz phoned to ask if i felt like coming to supper on st mary’s , to which i replied that i’d love to but there were no more boats . so he persuaded his friend phil , a diver , to nip over in his rib ( rigid inflatable boat ) to pick me up . after a quick pint in the turk’s head we sped back . the journey took less than ten minutes , skimming and bouncing over the swell . most exhilarating .

on my way back to agnes yesterday morning i saw a couple of gigs being winched off the scillonian in preparation for the world championship next weekend . which reminds me , i didn’t hear how shah , the agnes gig , fared in yesterday evening’s inter-island race . murray and aidan hicks were teaching me billiards in the island games room while their brother ross was rowing his heart out . billiards is an elegant game . a shame it’s been eclipsed by snooker . aidan , who is about ten , thrashed me soundly .

we’re just leaving camborne . it looks as if something’s on today . from the train i could see the silver band and festive-looking crowds . the driver’s got something relaying through the intercom now . can’t really imagine that happening on an english commmuter line .

: cH

y o o t

990312.1141 st erth railway station , cornwall

sitting here on platform 2 waiting for the plymouth train . a bright fresh morning . my only companions on the platform are six young hooligans , sitting on the backs of the benches , passing a fag between them , spitting on the tracks .

when i made towards the benches one of them challenged me < no yi caan’t join us > in a strong scouse accent . the others cackled and looked on expectantly . i continued without breaking step and replied to the one who had spoken < yeah , i’m gutted about that > . dropped my rucksacks and sat down . pulled out my psion and started to write .

the boys slid from their perches and swarmed about me . < whassat ? > < he’s got a computer > < how much did that cost you ? > < i had one of those but it gor nicked > < that’s a pee ess eye owe enn innit ? > . i chatted with them while we waited for the train . the liverpudlian kid , clearly the leader of this little fellowship , was a bright chap . he claimed to be a hacker , having learned it from his father , and it’s possible he was telling the truth . i suggested that coming to cornwall from liverpool must be quite a change . he said it certainly was , that the quiet was unnatural and hard to bear . < yi can only hear the pigs and animals , it drives me nots > .

it turned out they’d all walked from penzance that morning , a good eight miles i’d say . they were trying to get back to truro , another ten or more miles hence , and intended to hide in the train heads . they claimed that one of their number had lost the tickets bought tickets the day before .

so the train arrived , a local two-carriage diesel heading up to cardiff . they slunk into the loo and locked the door . the provision of wheelchair-friendly facilities means that that six average prepubescents can comfortably be accommodated .

the guard caught them just after the train left redruth , the last stop before truro . they got away with a stern reprimand , their journey accomplished . at truro station they barged through the tutting and eye-rolling passengers , sprinting victoriously down the platform and off into the world .

what will become of them i wonder ? they are sufficiently bright and tough to defy the state education system if they choose . and they probably will . they will be able to get unskilled jobs in the service sector or as seasonal labourers . but employers are able to get away with paying insulting wages here and some people see more dignity in the dole or chancing it in one of the various illegal professions .

i wished them luck , and wished there was more i could do .  i flew over from st mary’s in the helicopter yesterday afternoon . the islands were sunk in a thick fog . john peacock made a special journey from agnes for me , cutting through the still dark water with rocks and islands appearing and disappearing around us . the flight was a strange , disembodied journey . just the vibration of the rotor and the suffocating featureless white outside the windows .

there is a feeling of preparation , of awakening , in hughtown . on every street one sees people up ladders , cleaning windows , polishing brasswork , painting woodwork . easter brings the first surge of visitors and their cheque-books . often the weather is idyllic , with clear skies , bright sun and still a sense of freshness in the air . but nothing can be taken for granted .

as soon as i landed at penzance my phone bleeped to announce a text message from ross in sydney , sent a few hours earlier . he was setting off for work round about the time i was turning in after a chilled evening with anna adam adam nikki and their friends in hayle . today we sent messages back and forth all morning , until ross went to bed about an hour ago ( it’s now .1336 and we’re crossing brunel’s superb tamar bridge ) . i’m cut off from this uniquely immediate mode of communication in the islands and it’s always a rush to have it restored .

my new nikon tranny scanner arrived at the farm yesterday , carried up from the post office by johann , just as i was walking out . that made it even harder to leave .

: cH

r e t o u r

990224.0824 number 18 bus , hayle , cornwall

i’m on my way to the heliport in penzance , having said goodbye to my sister anna and her husband adam .

the bus is bizarrely fitted with fruity pink flourescent tubes down its left hand side . not many passengers . three or four schoolchildren , a couple of smartly-dressed ladies whom one might presume bound for work .

we’re passing st erth’s fine old parish church . closely-dressed granite blocks , squat grey tower . after london i always find these cornish buses wonderfully incongruous . the same vehicles , but bumping and swaying through single-track country lanes .

i’ve never travelled by helicopter before so in a sad laddish way i’m quite looking forward to the trip . there aren’t too many routes on which they’re regularly used . until this year i’d always crossed to the islands by sea . it was cheaper and seemed more appropriate . but the ferry ( scillonian iii ) is laid up over the winter in plymouth for a refit so it’s fixed wing from land’s end or the chopper from penzance .

ah , mount’s bay comes into view . the sea flat and still . st michael’s mount rising fantastically above it , a steep tree-swathed island topped by a fairy-tale castle . soon we’ll be at the heliport .

.0923 departure lounge , penzance heliport
the pre-fight safety video is running for the second time . < there will be some noise and warm air from the engines . this is perfectly normal > . i used my last few minutes of mobile time to phone st mary’s to arrange a place in the mail boat over to st agnes . i’ll just have time for lunch before this afternoon’s bookings to help a couple of islanders with their computers . back into the swing .

.1058 innisidgen guest house , hugh town , st mary’s
i’ve ducked in here for a coffee and to get out of the rain . the flight was largely cloudbound . helicopters are cool . the company which operates the islands’ service is based in aberdeen from where it services the north sea oil fields . the same sikorsky helicopters too . it was less cramped than i expected . 28 seats in quite a roomy cabin . almost all aircraft interiors seem to be fitted out in the wall-to-wall beige plastic cladding introduced by boeing in the fifties . it’s refreshing to see one with even a marginally different aesthetic . goddam ruskies .

radio two has just announced a new government scheme to help the long-term unemployed . from now on funds will be provided to pay for the removal of tattoos . futuristic stuff .

: cH

a r r i v a l

990209.0754 land’s end aerodrome

back again . it’s a beautiful morning . fluffy clouds are shedding snow here and there , but the wind’s dropped and visibility is good . might even get a decent view of the islands . luggage is checked in , safety video is watched ( the horizontal hold went ape ) , we’re just waiting for the mail now and should be leaving in about half an hour .

.0830

we’ve just boarded . five of us in the eight-seater cabin . two birdwatchers , two people visiting to get background for a novel , me . the engines are fired up , pre-flight checks undertaken .

we start bumping over the grass , seagulls grudgingly moving out of the way . fine view over land’s end and the sea .

we turn and the throttles open . we’re up !

.0848

we land on st mary’s , having passed between snow clouds . st agnes was bathed in light .

.0922

i got the minibus down form the airport , took a few photos of the gry maritha unloading ( no sign of my crates ) , and now i’m sitting aboard the spirit of st agnes , waiting to make the final leg of my journey .

it’s still pretty windy , and a damn cold wind at that . northerly . there was heavy hail here this morning . it’s a bright day though , and everything looks fresh . this is the first time i’ve ever been here in the winter , something i’ve wanted to do for years .

i spoke a little to the couple ( laurence and amanda ) who are here to do research for a novel . [ we cast off from the jetty ] . they were waiting with me yesterday for the aborted flight . turns out that laurence’s grandmother visited nournour , one of many a prehistoric settlements on st mary’s , and was so taken that she commissioned laurence to write a novel set there . so , there’s someone here on an even stranger pretext than mine .

st agnes hoves into view as we round the garrison , the fortified promontary at the west end of st mary’s . the squat lighthouse gleams white in the winter sun . this is the oldest standing light in the british isles , mid eighteenth century i think . and while we’re talking extremes , st agnes is the most south-westerly community in the british isles .

.1717

righto . i’m sitting here in my kitchen at tamarisk farm . through the door i look out over thick foliage , the lighthouse rising above it against a backdrop of plump clouds washed pink in the setting sun . it is a long narrow room , with windows running along either side , a dark red concrete floor , a white wooden roof . down one side my 21 inch monitor , hard drive , printer , phone and scanner are set up . i’ve rigged a phone line from johan’s adjoining workshop . everything is connected and operative .

as it turned out my freight preceded me by half an hour . i found it stacked on a trailer in the middle of the island , driven up from the quay by unknown hands . i hastily found a tarpaulin and covered it just in time for another sleet / hail shower . later the trailer appeared outside the farm so i set to work unloading everything and setting up . johan arrived back from the mainland just as i was finishing . we talked about starting points over a cup of tea .

this evening’s mission is to drop in on sue major , who teaches the island’s ten children of primary age . tomorrow evening is quiz night in the turk’s head , open only for two nights a week at this time of year . a chance to meet more of the islanders .

it’s pretty cold . i’ll try to track down a pair of thermal fingerless gloves to type in .

i’m so happy to be here at last . now it’s time to start discovering where this is all leading .

: cH

i n c l e m e n t

990208.1507 land’s end aerodrome

the phrase used by the pilot was < in the lap of the gods > . i may be flying out sometime this afternoon . or i may not .

i’m sitting here in the flourescent-lit cabin which serves as waiting room , windows lashed by rain and wind . the forecast is for winds reaching force nine in the islands . here on the mainland it’s no more than six or seven . taking off under these circumstances doesn’t seem to pose too much of a problem . landing , on the other hand , does .

yesterday morning was bright and clear . the drive down from gloucestershire was without incident . a great feeling of escape . my heart always lifts at the moment when the a30 plunges down over the lip of dartmoor and a breathtaking vista of rolling hills , light and shadow , extends to the distant horizon . even in the sluggish and unwieldy van it was a joy to trundle round the familiar roads . i met up with my mother , my sister anna and her husband adam in hayle as arranged yesterday afternoon . we braved the wind and went out for a short walk on the sand . i always loved the beaches down here in the winter . there’s a melancholic beauty and bleakness which i find supremely calming . and of course , no tourists .

early start this morning , reloading the van and driving down to the quay at penzance . everything was weighed and loaded into shipping crates amidst
pirouetting fork lifts and lorries unloading supplies for the islands . the
driving rain made me glad of those hours with the shrink wrap .

the docker who helped load everything up was not enthusiastic about computers . < when someone invades and turns the power off they’ll be no bloody use at all . who wants to spend all day sitting in front of a screen anyway ? > . i told him that broadly speaking i agreed with him , but pointed out that they actually made quite good weapons if dropped from a decent height .

looking out of the windows , i see that someone has just got into the small
plane’s cockpit , poked around and got out again . the flight was due to leave a few minutes ago . no decision yet .

i’ve arranged with david peacock to have a boat waiting for me at st mary’s to take me over to st agnes . i’d better call and warn him that the plan might be changing .

.1552

still no decision . before we can fly the pilot needs to be confident that
there is a fall-back landing strip which can be used should conditions at st mary’s be impossible . crosswinds are too strong at lands end , newquay , rnas culdrose and raf st mawgan .

.1630

it’s final . no flight today . back to hayle and hopefully more luck at 0825 tomorrow . i managed to get through to david peacock and call off the launch . the plane’s been wheeled back into the hanger .

: cH

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