Cornwall: Sea Salts & Sails

6 July 2024

Our last full day in Cornwall and there we had several activities planned: a coastal boat trip, a walk to a nearby village, a visit to the Cornish Fire Brigade, and watching the England/Sweden Euro Quarter Final. We weren’t quite sure how we would fit them both in. Fate decided for us. The wind was up after the storms of the day before and the boat operator deamed it unsafe to sail. And we are so glad!

Out of the house we came across Phillip, the town crier. Yes, he is actually The Penzance Town Crier. Dressed in all the traditional uniform, with props of bell and scroll. In his booming voice he declared that The St John’s Church Fete would be held from 10-4 today. Tempting, but instead we set out on foot to the Cornish Fire and Rescue Station

My father, a life long volunteer fire fighter, likes me to visit fire stations throughout my travels. At this fire station we met Johnny Mack and Adam, two volunteers. They were very nice to us, showing is their equipment. But they were not allowed to accept the patch from the Bay Head Fire Department that my father had sent. They suggested we come back later when the full time paid staff would be back from their fire call. We said we would do our best to do so.

Following along the coast we entered to town of Newlyn, an active fishing village. The owner of the Fermenting shop invited us in. She gave us samples of her water Kiefer (we bought a bottle of lemon) and a concetrated beet-something (not bad, but a condiment I could not travel with). Fish mongers displayed blackboards with the days catch. The boats works across the street showed that this place was the real deal. Past the fisheries we were treated to the site of hundreds of boats in dock, in all sizes, in the brightest shades of yellow, orange, blue and red. It looked like a display of toys.

Beyond these boats, were a dozen sail boats in what looked like a race up the coast. The sails were colored, tones of brown, red and rust. These were not a type of boat we had seen before. As we watched them admiringly we fell into step with a couple named Liz and Rod, who were walking, as we were, to Mousehole (pronounced Mowz-ul. Because clearly the name of Mouse-Hole would be far too cute, for what would turn out to be the absolutely cutest tow we have ever visited!).

Liz and Rod told us much of the local news. Mousehole was not what it used to be. Like many towns and cities across the world, it is conflicted about residences vs short term rentals. They showed us the sad memorial to a shipwreck and the Royal Naval Life Savers and family who all lost their lives in the attempted rescue. Turns out the sail boats were part of The Sea Salts and Sails Festival, and they were all working vintage ships. Mike, who has recently joined a sailing club and is learning to sail, was fascinated. We heard the festival long before we saw it. A man with a Tom Jones kind of voice was singing Copa Cabana. Brilliant.

We parted ways with Liz and Rod and soon found ourselves at The Festival. Teens were playing cricket on the low tide beach, hopping over the lines that anchored the boat (cricket is indeed a long game: they were still playing when we passed by two hours later) Sizing up the food tents we stood in line for a hamburger and a bacon bap (apparently bacon buttie is a northern term). There we met the snappily dressed Chris who entertained us with his upperclass whit and charm.

Seeking shade to eat our lunch we picnicked on the beach at the edge of a bolder. And it soon began to rain.

And now, a bit about the weather. To paraphrase Mark Twain, the coldest winter I have ever spent was a summer in Cornwall. Seriously! Cold winds from the north, cold water to the south. Cliffs for the wind to whirl around. In a moment the sky can turn from sunny and almost 60 degrees to cold, pouring rain that made me shiver. Again, I was grateful to Dee for selling me a real English Wool poncho!

Tents were set up on the Cobb selling crafts and goods and telling the history of herring fishing. We took shelter there. It was clear that this festival was to raise money for something, but none of the volunteers seemed to know exactly what. But it didn’t matter. A Celtic quartet was entertaining the crowd with traditional song. The rain let up a bit. A young man named Luther told us about the ships, as he had worked on restoring one of them.

Into a cafe for coffee, hot chocolate and lemon pistachio cake, and it was time for the walk back. At a shallow pool we met Josh, who also worked on the sail boats. His friend Emily had recently moved here and she was a musical theatre person! We spoke about favorite roles. I told her to make it happen.

Heading back towards Newlyn we noticed another kind of boat was also out on the water. Large row boats holding six rowers and a coaxing crossed the paths of the sail boats. We watched them as we walked at about the same pace all the way back to Newlyn. In Penzance we even spoke to one of the rowers, who was wearing a team t-shirt. No race, he said. They just do it for fun.

It was late in the afternoon when we were back in Penzance and it was time for the England/ Sweden Euro semi-final. Earlier in the day Johnny Mack had recommend The Bath Inn. We found a table with Paul and friends and cheered loudly as England tied it up to go into extra time! We’d have stayed longer, but the ten and a half mile walk had made us tired. So it was back to The Loaf to watch England win!

And also, we had to pack. Tomorrow it would be time to leave Cornwall. But we had one more must-see to take in on the way out…..