38 NM 4th June 2010
We’ve been adviced to leave Pwllheli 3 hours before low water (8.37) so an
early call for us, we plan to slip our lines at 5.30. Will, from Hafan Pwellhi
Marina is a sailor and knows what he’s talking about – we want low slack water
to pass by Bardsey Island – I have some cruising notes in front of me ‘Tidal
streams run strongly through the Sound….[which] can be evil – 50 foot standing
waves have been reported…Only tackle it in fair weather and at slack water…The
shoals lying offshore of Bardsey Island…cause severe overfalls which can
constitute a danger to small vessels’. OK!
Tim meanwhile has been looking at his tidal charts – we went to the
chandlery to buy new fenders and I happened to mention to Jane who works in
there that we were hoping to get a swing mooring in Portdinillaen (we still
don’t know how to pronounce this!) but were worried we’d be too heavy for the
buoy, she was on the phone in an instant, “I know someone who may be able to
advice you” and the someone is her brother-in-law who just happens to be the
coxswain of the RNLI station in that unpronounceable place – we will know how
to say it in the morning for we shall practice.
It’s been very hot beautiful day, lots of boat activity, a tractor
launching power boats down the slip, boats and jet skis taking on fuel (we’re
near the fuel barge) people making the most of the sunshine (I suspect a few
over did the sun, lots of red shoulders) are passing our mooring now (we are
near the slip) waiting for the tractor to pull them out. Not the quietest
spot, a flotilla of idling engines and bow thrusters in use as they await
their turn with the tractor, diesel and petrol fumes hovering over the water,
but we don’t mind, I wave and they wave back – “We love your programme, are
you going to make more?”
Tim’s working out his passage and I’m ducking petrol fumes…
Followed by....
What a lovely pub! We beached the dingy and pulled it up on to the golden
sand, the water was crystal clear, you don’t get better than this on the
Mediterranean. How lovely to arrive in such an idyllic place, we’d never heard
of Porth Dinllaen and are still trying to pronounce it, and it’s not helped
because the Charts say it’s one word Porthdinllaen and the postcards (as above)
two and the spelling is not consistent either? Never mind the beach wasn’t too
busy, people sunbathing, swimming, kids paddling. We heard music as we walked up
the steps from the sand, there was a folk band, sitting on the wall entertaining
those lucky enough to have a table outside the Ty Coch Inn. I suppose the only
place we can compare it to, is the beach in front of The Ferryboat Inn on
Helford Passage where we were stranded by the backend of Hurricane Bill last
August, but I think this beach and the sand-dunes beat even that vista….Wales
and Cornwall are totally different countries, if Timmy and I were blindfolded
and taken on a mystery journey we’d know which was which, I don’t know how, but
we would. The Ty Coch wasn’t as chi chi as the Ferryboat inasmuch as it didn’t
have the oyster bar, or the extensive wine list, but the Ty Coch has utter
charm, and we weren’t confronted with signs, ‘please don’t use the tap in the
toilet to wash the sand off your feet’ – kids were in and out using the lavs,
trailing sand on their wet feet and no one raised an eyebrow. Briony is the cook
and as far as I can tell the landlady, she was so pleased to see us, “Oh I’m so
glad you came here, we wondered if you would! We saw your barge moored out
there, she looks lovely!” – And her mash potato was lovely, can’t get better
than that in my book.
And....
Porthdinllaen RNLI
4th June 2010
I phoned the RNLI Station and spoke to Alan, the mechanic to say thank you for
letting us use their buoy, Mark the cox’n who Tim had spoken to yesterday was
out racing with his kids, but Alan said we were welcome to join the crew on
the lifeboat, they were going to go down the slipway at 5, how could we resist
an invitation like this? Tim had a nap after lunch and I woke him up about
4.30, we’d left Paul at the pub, (he has a horrible job) he wanted to do some
filming, so we said we’d meet him at the boathouse. There is a beach either
side of the slipway and we were helped to pull the dingy up onto the sand by a
couple of the crew and we walked up the ramp and were introduced to some more
of the guys.
Tim and I are in complete awe of the RNLI volunteers, they are extremely
special human beings and as we make our way around the British Isles we are
fortunate because every now and again we get to meet them in the most benign
way – not an SOS! Our first experience of the RNLI was with the Sharpness
Station in 2005, it was a ’semi’ emergency, not strictly a shout, but they
helped us, and then we got to know a few crew when we were moored in Ramsgate,
and were only recently helped by the Fishguard RNLI crew. Wherever we arrive
on The Princess Matilda and explore (mostly pubs) we meet volunteers, they
come from all walks of life, the crew we met today included a green keeper (at
the local golf club) a postman and a builder. The assistant cox’n who took us
out today was Robert Jones and it was a totally different trip to the one we
did with Patch and the Penlee crew.
Firstly, Penlee are mostly fishermen, hardly surprising as Newlyn is a
large fishing port, and they are mostly Cornishmen, and Porthdinllaen are all
Welsh (although Ken the operations manager is Scouse, but honorary Welsh) and
none are fishermen. I believe they are the only Welsh speaking crew in Wales.
To see them working as a team, for the RNLI crew all know their jobs and are
team players – and communicating with each other in Welsh made Tim and I feel
so proud to be amongst them. We climbed up some very steep steps and there is
a gantry to get on to the lifeboat, some of the crew were up there already,
dressed in their gear, including helmets and we were told to make sure we
ducked our heads as we came out of the boathouse. Tim and I were already
wearing lifejackets, so Paul was given one, as he was filming and the boat
moved forward and we all ducked and then when it was clear of the boathouse it
was all systems go, it stopped! The crew all had their jobs to do, for the
bridge and the ariels lie flat and are then assembled, once this was done,
Robert asked whether Tim would like to join him on the bridge and would he
like to take the helm (once the lifeboat was clear of the slipway).
Standing up there at the top of the slipway, looking down to the packed
beaches stage right and left, we shared a heightened sense of expectation. The
beach audience were enthralled, busy taking photographs – not of Tim – but of
the crew and the lifeboat, for they were the stars of this show. The boat
started to descend the ramp and in seconds we hit the water and Tim put her
her into forward gear and we left leaving a huge wake behind us, several
little boats followed us out riding the wake like surf boarders. A wonderful
experience, for them and for us. – But for the RNLI it’s no joy ride, they put
their lives at risk….
