A Sea Change
It seems so strange that The Book of Birds was only published three weeks ago. How can this be? But the moon is full again and we have slipped from May to June and this morning, waking, walking early, the cuckoo calls. Not much longer now to hear this. I joke about how, although Robert Macfarlane and I work very closely together we seldom are in the same place. He lives in Cambridge, I live in Pembrokeshires. Two countries between us and you could get further away if you tried, but we mostly communicate through email, whatapp and text, with postcards also from me, because I am increasingly analogue in the days of AI.
I am meandering. Some time ago my daughter, Hannah, and her husband invited myself and Cathy Fisher to join them on one of the legs of their passage from Ipswich to Ireland. They have a boat, called Larry. A Nicholson Gaff Cutter with a long history. She is a beautiful creature, made from trees.
My first reaction was, ‘I can’t do that’. But this is my year of being brave and stepping up to challenges, and if not now, then when? So, Cathy and I set off on an epic adventure last Monday.
Driving out of St Davids two hitchhikers were struggling down the road. Young guys with massive rucksacks. We stopped and invited them in. They win the prize for the best ever hitchhikers, as we drove them not to Haverfordwest but to Carmarthen to get their train ( which was just as well as I had forgotten the train splits to go to Milford or Pembroke Dock) They were on their way to London. Ben is a musician. Vihaan works in finance. And they were tired after sleeping out, but weirdly reading The Wild Places, so lots of curious connections. And Vehaan read The Wild Geese by Mary Oliver and The Peace of Wild Things by Wendel Berry to us as we drove. We dropped them off at Carmarthen Station and each went on to our own adventures.
We were catching up with Hannah and Henry at Lulworth Cove on Tuesday, but unsure of time as wind and tide dictate when they arrived. As it was they got there early and Cai had afternoon nap and we arrived at around 6.30. I had been anxious about boarding but they were patient and I made it on to the boat. We had supper, went to bed having made plans for leaving early in the morning.
Hannah read A Wild Lullaby by Cathy and me ( I did the words, Cathy did the pictures) and when she finished he simply said ‘that’s a good one’. I will take that as first and best review. He also had Starlight Sailor, a book I illustrated years ago and James Mayhew wrote. Hoping it will be reissued by Otter Barry Books soon. Wild Lullaby comes out in Sept and will have more on that tomorrow.
Cathy is made of salt water, is a diver and has spent time on boats. I think both of us needed to walk away and leave our baggage on the shore.
Our stint on the boat was just a few days. Sailing a ten hour passage from Lulworth to Dartmouth first. 4.30, and the sea glassy and my first experience of sailing. Breakfast under sail, Cathy on deck, and she spotted a movement, dark back arching up into the ocean of air and, there, again, Minke Whale! Cai’s first whale!
We also had the wonder of bow riding dolphins. Ten hours at sea and a seeing of the world through a different lens. Trying to understand what it was about the clouds that looked so different seen on sea, not seen on land. The light reflecting down, back up from the sea? The enormity of sky uninterrupted by landscape? The scent of it was exquisite and what a place to be in a heatwave. We were lucky, so lucky. Hannah and Henry moved around the boat like dancers. Such hard work and on top of the sailing Henry was tutoring and Hannah had a work meeting and they both had Cai to look after. But for Cathy and myself, we could do little but watch with awe at it all. Still struggling to find the words, but I wanted to get this post out before getting swept along to the next thing.
Cai and I made a good many paper boats, relearning what I used to know so well when Starlight Sailor was first published. He blew kisses in to them and set them sailing. The third picture above shows Hannah ‘working from home’ before signal dropped out. She is writing as she goes for her next book, She The Sea, to be published by Granta. Meanwhile one of her Move Like Water books was in the cabin, looking sun-kissed and elemental.
In all we sailed and motored along the Dorset, Devon and Cornwall coast, from Lulworth to Falmouth. We stayed for a day in Dartmouth, anchored in the river nearer to Kingswear. I REALLY wanted to go and meet Isabella Day, who feels so like family. She made Hannah and Henry’s wedding and engagement rings. I have a beautiful gold bracelet of hers and her partner Ford’s. She is The Remarkable Goldsmith.
It was rather wonderful to sleep on the water as the tide turned and herons settled into nearby heronry and flew across the river, across the almost full moon. The dawn chorus was songbird and seabird, and water on wood.
Leaving Dartmouth I wrote a wish onto a paper and made it into a tiny boat and set it to sail. And we sailed past Hallsands, Torcross, Slapton and Startpoint, all which hold such memories. This is where, when I was a child, I was happiest.
Still struggling to find the words, but feeling a real sea change. These, below, are the only notes I made aboard. My eyes were too wide with the wonder of it all. Shearwaters passed us and Hannah said they might have come from Skomer to hunt. They would be back by evening….. amazing birds.
the shape of the sky
colour of cloud
so different from land
somehow more depth, height
visible to my bones
understanding
or, perhaps
seeing more of the sky
and the circle of Earth
than when on land.
movement of water mesmerises
fresh air
salt
light
tide and time
Shearwater
Gannets
hunting low over water
Scoter, Guillemot, Razorbill, Porpoise, Minke, Risso’s dolphins breaching
Water glassy
wind wrikled
stitched
smooth
blue green grey black prussian
Skin of the sea patterned by wind, coloured by clouds and, in harbour, by moon, by lights, houses, boats and bouys.
Hannah is updating progress of the trip on her instagram so follow her if you want more of the sailing. There’s a lovely post of the fit and active sailors and me slumped asleep in the sway of the water, overdosed on sea sickness tablets ( I wasn’t sea sick, but most likely because the tablets worked)
They dropped us on the keyside in Falmouth at 7 am. The day before I had signed books for the Falmouth Bookseller. Lovely to just walk in off the street and have such a warm welcome. We made our way home via train and car, carrying our memories softly. To be on land again, still feeling the sway of the sea in our bodies was strange, and flowers were so scented and birdsong was welcome.
Cathy drank in the scent of the roses. At home, the elderflowers are like sea foam.
It was most lovely to meet Sophie Pavelle, who, with Hannah is leading a course at Arvon Foundation. Also Evie Mercia, who has just completed her course in illustration and is fledging into the world as an artist. I do so love this image. If you want to support an ’emerging artist, by purchasing her work, commissioning her, you can find her on instagram. Wonderful to finally meet Isabella Day also and all her Remarkable Goldsmiths. Do look them up, my wordpress is playing up and can’t put a link in here.
At the beginning of this post I described how Rob and I are seldom together. Even when we had supper at Balliol College he was at one end of the table, I at the other. So, while I was at sea level where was Macfarlane? He was 11 249ft above sea level.
We will be together again soon in Dulwich and then at a lobby of parliament, both June dates. Curiously I will meet the wonderful Sophie Pavelle also at the lobby. Then again at St Martins in the Fields with Peter Florence in July.
As we left the boat Hannah, Henry and Grace were preparing to haul anchor and head out on a 36 hour passage across the sea to Ireland. Plans had changed with the wind and weather and they wanted to make port ahead of a storm coming in. Fuel had been rationed as there were yachts heading over to Kinsale for a race, but they felt they had enough and wind was with them. It’s not easy as a mother, grandmother, to say goodbye, knowing they were heading out to sea, but so much of love is about trust and Hannah and Henry are just utterly magnificent people. I tried not to worry, and for the most part was busy with settling at home for this to be ok, but was relieved to hear from them when they were an hour and a half out, then made port. Hannah sent me some beautiful pictures of the passage.
Still trying to find the words. Most used word of the week was ‘wow’. Just ‘wow’.
Home is beautiful. Rob’s place to escape is the mountains. We did a podcast with Katherine May where we spoke of such things. Curiously mine was also a fictional place. I think I need to reread The Liveships by Robin Hobb. Where is your place, real or fictional, past or present?
Magic, beautifully captured and released. Diolch.
Wonderful, and I think of the Liveships every time I see Larry. As you say, Hannah and Henry, magnificent, I’m in awe of all they do. My place? A small caravan somewhere between the past and present,on a coast near a pebble beach and big skies.
Beautiful words, beautiful photos… simply beautiful
Hello Jackie
Long time no see.
Well done. I actually can’t believe I’m reading this. I’m reading Robert’s Wild Places and signing up for the RYA Day Skipper Course. That book is really affecting me and after sailing with my late husband I feel I have to get back to it. I’m in my 70’s now. Hope you and the cats and cottage are all well. Love Sheelagh xxx
Thank you so much for sharing. What a magical voyage.
Sounds like a magnificent voyage Jackie. I loved the words you jotted down to capture the magic and wonder of it all and to remind you of this special moment in time. Moments of real connection with family and friends. That’s my special place.