Season: autumn
A calm sea was lit by the easterly morning sun. At low tide the geology in the sea caves around the corner from the main part of the beach was striking, nestled below the abandoned engine house that stands on the stark cliffs here. The waves were modest yet long, perfectly formed arcs just before they broke. I ran into Ralph, one of the first manonabeach® interviewees from last year, enjoying his passion for sea fishing.
A re-acquaintance with Ralph in his natural environment.
Chapel Porth beach shows its gentle side.
Season: autumn
As the sun broke in the east, it lit a wild sea on Cornwall’s North Coast. The breakers piled in relentlessly over the broken rocks at the head of the beach. This was elemental nature in the raw. The tide really races in here and you have to be watchful at the water’s edge. When you leave Chapel Porth on a morning such as this, you feel exhilarated and alive, recharged and ready to go.
Richard enjoys the sea, in awe at the elements.
The action of the sea on the land at Chapel Porth.
Season: summer
This is an elemental beach with a dramatic approach down a winding road in a deep gorge. The beach faces the Atlantic and the geology bears witness to the land’s abrasive relationship with the ocean, featuring stark rocky outcrops that have been chiseled apart by the weather and sea. It is a rejuvenating environment, always breezy and invigorating, a place to gain a positive charge at the start of the day.
Stephen’s affinity for this beach.
At the water’s edge in the morning.
Season: spring
The approach by road to Chapel Porth beach, located near St Agnes in North Cornwall, is dramatic. You drop between two imposing hillsides, with the road clinging to one side, its edge marked by posts between you and the drop. It has the feel of Wrynose or Hardknott Passes in the Lake District. On this occasion I was greeted by the North Atlantic breakers beyond the beach. The tide was nearly out, with eroded rock standing proud against the beach and sea. Chapel Porth is a wild place, natural and untamed, braced in a cauldron of elements.
Bob explains the draw of Chapel Porth beach to his family.
The rocks and the beach, standing back from a falling tide.
Inside a magical sea tunnel beside the waves on Chapel Porth beach.
Season: winter
It was a windy morning at Chapel Porth. The beach is at the bottom of a deep valley. It has plenty of parking right on the beach and a toilet block which forms part of the National Trust investment that has been made in its infrastructure. It does feel isolated from the retail world, and it is all the better for it. The beach is on an exhilarating stretch of the South West Coast Path and is notable for its foreboding cliffs.
My chat with Ralph, who has a lifetime’s perspective on beach life here, specifically body boarding and fishing. He explains the best way and time to catch bass off the rocks.
Hi Manonabeach…….I assume it was a buoy not a boy that was wedged in the cave ceiling at Chapel Porth this morning?? (Sorry I couldn’t resist.)
On a more serious note, have you ever seen/heard about the blow hole near the engine house up from Chapel Porth? If not put the words ‘blow hole at Chapel Porth’ into the youtube search engine & there are several videos of it. I suspect it may be in a precarious position & we haven’t had a proper look for it ourselves.
I love Ralph, what a true Cornish man, I have learnt more about fishing in that 5 minutes, than all my life, you rock Ralph !! He should have his own program, move over Robson Green
There is so much about the beach and this lovely poem by Rick Howarth sums up the beach for me:
Remote Cornish Beach in Summer
Who loves those days when the sun is hazed, and the seas unruffled with its mirrored glaze
Showing every ripple and fish that moves in the currents stream swept surface ooze.
And the tide on the beach treads soft and slow leaving hardly a footprint as it goes
Where the dark sand that each sea fall makes is quickly absorbed to its flaxen state.
When the sand is warmly soft and gold and the seagulls plaintiff call is bold
As no other sound competes for space in air as soft a mothers embrace.
And you lay by a bed of scented pinks as rustling reeds their music links
To a skylarks distant worshipping praise to sunlit, happy, palliate days.
And the amphitheatre of the cliffs reduces all the world to this,
Sea, sand and skies sensuous ideal carresses, body and soul to heal.