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| Sandy Cove Picture by Diana Morrison 04/09/14 |
I am so lucky to
live so close to the sea. Even now, it holds a childish magic for me possibly
due to its association with holidays and happy times, those shiny distant days
of endless sunshine and laughter, which were probably nothing of the sort but
for wistful nostalgia!
I was born in Leicester,
which if you didn't know, is in the East Midlands of England and is about as
far away as you can get from the sea. The closest beach to us was Skegness, 85 miles east of us although my family preferred Mablethorpe for a day trip to the seaside, a
distance of 98 miles from our home. We didn't do that very often.
Our annual
holidays were always taken on magical Dartmoor,
222 miles away, a journey which took 5 hours 39 minutes, because my mother would
not let my father use the motorway - we're talking the 1970s here, so that
time may be inaccurate! From our B&B outside of Widecombe-in-the-Moor,
we had a choice of fabulous beaches close by; beautiful Dawlish and Teignmouth, Beer, Seaton and Beesands and
the fabulous Torbay beaches of Torquay, Paignton and Brixham and
as I said, the sun always shone. I would spend hours on my own just walking and
playing on the beach, pretending that I was some mystical Sea Person come to fight
with the evil City and Sand People, wishing that I could remain forever and
crying when the day and indeed the holiday drew to a close.
Time passed and
circumstances changed, the altered family left Leicester in 1984 and settled in Gunnislake,
bang on the river Tamar, the border between Devon and Cornwall. Suddenly, the
closest beach was only forty minutes away. For a while it felt like being permanently
on holiday, although I had ostensibly grown out of imagining that I was
that "Sea Person.” Reality soon kicked in though, work had to be found and
an adult life had to be forged, the ups and downs of which were enhanced or
made bearable by proximity to the sea and knowing that I could escape whenever
I needed peace.
Jonathan’s love of
the sea eclipses mine. With a different upbringing and a different perspective,
he prefers to be on it rather than beside or in it. I was introduced to sailing
shortly after we met. Dromengro (which
means “Road Man” or traveller in Romany) was the name of his father’s boat. She
was fast and robust and big enough for a nervous sailor to feel safe in and I
fell in love. Unfortunately, my first trip aboard Dromengro, from Polruan to
Mylor, was to be my
last. We were sailing her to a yacht brokerage as she was for sale.
I still enjoy
sailing, but Ganga Devi (Jonathan’s 22ft yacht, with an incredible history), is a different ride to Dromengro and we have conflicting ideas
of what a good sail is. Keep in sight of land, don’t heel over too far and I'm happy!
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| On board Ganga Devi Picture by Diana Morrison 03/08/14 |
We moved to Ireland
in 2001 and our propinquity to the sea was initially down to less than five
minutes. We have moved house twice since then and whilst there is a lovely quay
at the bottom of a very steep hill in our village, the closest beach where the
waves can creep in and gently tickle the shore or crash in wildly on a fresh or
strong gale of wind, is Sandy Cove, which is less than ten minutes away.
I was there
yesterday evening, in the sea fog and drizzle, escaping from reality. It was
deserted and I stayed for an hour, taking photographs. I found the peace and solace
I needed to deal with a miserable situation at home – and I confess that just
for a little while, I pretended to be that Sea Person, silently shouting back at the
world.
