The Sea, The Sea

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!

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.