Day 6: Sandy Haven to Marloes

Weather: Brilliant sunshine and still

Distance covered today: 23.8km (14.8mi)

Last night's B&B: Skerryback Farm

% Complete: Cumulative distance: 48,0%: 138.6km

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 6 (click!)

Laziness is the mother of invention!  In the planning, I was aware that this could be a long day.  As at Sandy Haven, there is a tidal problem at the river crossing in Dale, and missing low tide enforces a substantial detour, which would make it even longer.  The cognoscenti argue that if you time it to make the crossing at Sandy Haven, you will miss the tide at Dale the following morning, such is their juxtaposition. My host last night told me that there was no visual merit at all in doing the detour.  He also regretted that as his wife had hurt her hip, he would only be able to provide a continental breakfast.

Out came the tide-table and the map! Low tide this morning was at 05:02 BST (interestingly, the internet gives the times in GMT, and I have already helped one person who was about to get into trouble by not making the conversion!).  It appeared that my B&B was about 3 hours from the crossing in Dale, and a guidebook suggested that the crossing could be made for about three hours each side of low tide. Sunrise this morning was at 05:48, but dawn would have made it possible to start walking at least half an hour earlier. Still, leaving at 5:15 would have made it a bit tight. More feverish consultation of the map suggested that if I did a little short cut through the village of St Ishmaels, (Chris, close your eyes) I might gain the half hour I needed.  Result!

I asked my host for a packed continental breakfast, which rather confused him, but we settled on two croissants and two apples, and I set off like a mouse this morning at 05:30 for Dale.  Again the weather was perfect; not a breath of air and a clear sky.  The dawn chorus was in full throat. The sun soon rose behind me lighting the beautiful coastline ahead as if in some sort of magical natural history documentary.

Of course, I have always known that dawn is the most photogenic of times. Most landscape photographers do most of their work at dawn and dusk.  Why had I not experienced this before on all my long-distance walks?  The reason, of course, is that I am always too greedy to forego the “free” breakfast in the B&B.  So too, the entire walking population of Britain is collectively missing out on the biggest secret of the countryside!  I decided this morning that what we need is a completely new concept in accommodation; “Supper & Sleep”, instead of B&B.  This could revolutionise the tourist industry in Britain, and think of the beneficial effects of all those healthy, packed, continental breakfasts instead of eggs and grease. (I have all my best ideas when I’m walking, especially when there is no-one around to pick holes in them!)

Elated as I was by the magic around me, I made it to the Dale crossing with an hour to spare!  At one point, I was walking along the very flat, stony beach towards the crossing point with my back to the sea. As I looked to my left I was fascinated to see that the leading edge of the water was moving up the estuary borne in by the rising tide, more or less at the same speed as I was walking.  Because there were absolutely no waves, the rise of the tide in a sound with such a huge tidal reach, on such a flat beach was visible as an inexorably steady progression of its leading edge, almost an eerie, unworldly phenomenon.

On a lighter note, it reminded me that I was now on the diametrically opposite side of Milford Haven Waterway from the village of Angle, which I reached some four days ago. You may recall that I was picked up by my host at a pub on the water’s edge, while watching the couple in their dilemma with the beached yacht. Last night, I had supper with a fellow walker, Adrienne, who had coincidentally stayed in that pub that night, the night of the spring, high tide.

What she didn’t know was that the road to the pub is submerged by the spring tide once a month, just after the full moon. The result is that no-one can go home until the tide recedes; there is an actual “lock-in” at the pub!  This has become an institution in the area. People come from all over, loud music is played and lots of liquor consumed. It is also impossible to sleep in the rooms upstairs.

Adrienne had a terrible night, and the following morning complained to the proprietor, a very genial fellow I had met on my way through (I snuck in a quick pint as I waited for my host!).  He was  so embarrassed that he had not warned her that he refused to take a penny for the night’s accommodation or for breakfast!

Of course, if it had been me, I would have joined the party!

The sun rising behind a beautiful refinery (!)

The village of Dale reflected in the still waterway in early morning sunlight

Of course, early mornings also mean early morning dew and rather wet legs

And a gigantic Kevin!

The water advancing at my walking pace

The bridge across the river; not yet submerged

Reflections in the still water

Houses at Dale

Old lime kilns dot the coast in many locations

Those were the days!

Watwick Beacon; a huge and graceful warning system for shipping

My last look at Milford Haven Waterway after four days of circumnavigation

The lighthouse at St Anne's Head

Beautifully folded rocks on the Celtic Sea side of the peninsula

A landslide right next to the path

Skomer Island, home of the Puffins and Shearwaters

Wild Welsh ponies for Veronica and especially for John

The colour contrasts were fantastic all day

These elderly gentlemen were flying model aeroplanes on an old, disused airfield. Maybe they had flown the real thing at this airfield in their youth!

Marloes Beach

A tunnel of undergrowth to the village of Marloes