There are countless stories of ships being wrecked along this coast, but never did I think we would have one on our doorstep.
A little while ago we watched the tides and timed an exploration along the rugged coastline to the south of Crackington Haven. This area is only safely reachable when the tide is below a particular height. It was a spring tide that day (low tide was very low), so I calculated that we had around 6 hours before we risked being cut off.
Little did we know that we would stumble upon the remains of a wrecked ship! Of course, it is well known in these parts, but we had been living here for just a few weeks at that time.
The wreck is the remains a WWII German E-Boat (S-Boat to the Germans), S89. She run aground here on 5th October 1946 while being towed to Wales to be used as target practice. She was almost 35m long and had seen some action during the war. There’s quite an interesting summary of her history at submerged.co.uk.
This photograph looks like it was taken where she had run aground, on the boulder field that is Tremoutha Haven. It’s a fair bit of effort to reach the remaining items of wreck. My photos show engines, driveshafts, and some other bits and pieces that have managed to remain in place despite decades of pounding seas. It’s well worth a visit.
With the iphone so darned useful, I still keep finding things it won’t do – or at least I wish it would. So armed with a need, I set out to create my first app.
Proportional Scaler is a very simple, one-screen tool that helps web designers calculate the dimensions of images and movies (or anything rectangular) when enlarging or reducing them, while maintaining the original proportions.
This is most common when embedding flash movie viewers into web pages where the movies dimensions do not quite fit the desired page layout. The on-page size of the movie can be directly edited in the embed code, but it is necessary to input both height and width accurately otherwise the image will be squashed or stretched. I had to do exactly that on this recent post about the Secret Absinthe.
“Can’t you just open up Photoshop and work out the scaling?” Yeah, wait for a huge application to load, then load the image, etc., that’s exactly my point. I used this app many times even when it was only partly finished. If you publish web content, you may find it useful, too.
Being simple, it was also the ideal project for my initial foray into working through Apple’s app publishing process. It’s certainly not for the feint hearted, but is entirely professional and well documented.
I read a great deal about angry developers who had their apps rejected by Apple. Read a little more and in most cases I have come across where more detailed information is available, the developer has created their app outside Apple’s sometimes strict guidelines for interface, or function.
Now the argument goes that developers should be able to do what they please for the most appropriate user experience within their apps. But the iphone (and sibling devices) just works. The apps work in a familiar manner. You know the expected behaviour of the topmost navigation bar, or the bottom tab bar, for example, regardless of the individual app. I would rather have a device with apps that work, predictably, than one that eventually degrades into a mess of under-maintained and poorly constructed (but cool, right?) software.
Other stories tell how Apple reject apps that overlap too much with technologies that they are developing for the platform, or talk of censorship, or “Big Brother” attitudes to content. Frankly, I don’t care. Sure, I was concerned about the approval process and whether my app – unlikely as it seemed – would be rejected. But proper research and planning, adhering to the requirements and guidelines, and all should be well. The result is a device that goes beyond useful, causes very little usage pain, and just plain works.
(OK, rant over.)
What’s next
More apps on the way. I’m close to finishing an app dedicated to my podcast, A Minor Technicality. A free app that will access and play latest and all episodes. Initially a simple release, it will expand with notifications of new episodes and other goodies.
After that a similar one for BritCaster.com, one that may be useful to film photography geeks, and one for UK sea anglers. I’m also looking at ways to create apps that are image-based, to display art and illustration, not jut for me, but other artists, too.
I suppose I’d better get off here and get on with that list!
Mushrooms, comfrey, blackberries, and an almost complete lack of fish. This week I planned a completely foraged, wild-food meal. With foods collected on the North Cornwall coast – and plucked from the Atlantic. Exciting? Tasty? Poisonous? You’ll have to listen to find out.
Running time: 28 minutes.
Grab each episode via RSS Dedicated iphone app coming soon!
Our recent trip to the one of the spiritual hearts of Absinthe, the Val de Travers in Switzerland, was memorable for a whole host of reasons. But one experience in particular stood out.
“We’re heading off to the secret fountain.” OK, I thought, time to see some cheesy tourist attraction with some vague connection with Absinthe.
I drove the worst car in the world (a 4-wheel drive Fiat Panda), out of the valley floor and up into the hills and forests. The leading car gave barely enough confidence that the driver knew the way. The fountain is reputed to be “secret” after all! We wound through farms, fields, and then forests, heading ever upwards from the valley. We eventually parked near an innocuous junction, next to stacks of recently felled logs.
The forest was wet with that morning’s rain, and the continuing drips from the surrounding trees seemed to echo the recent weather. We were led across the road and down along a typical gravel fire-break in the forest. It was in the middle of nowhere, even my portable sat-nav could not muster up its location.
After a few hundred yards, a sign appeared: “Fontaine La Discrete” and we left the main track into a small makeshift clearing. I first noticed the heavy wooden picnic table and seating. Large enough to accommodate perhaps a dozen individuals.
Before it stood what at first looked like a large bird house perched on wooden legs. In what might be regarded as the attic, was a small slot and padlock. Below, a door which opened to reveal a bottle of La Clandestine Absinthe and two absinthe glasses.
If you know anything about absinthe, you know that it should be diluted before drinking, so fresh water was provided by a nearby mountain spring. Though the water itself surfaced a few metres away, it had been redirected through a wooden channel to where it could be conveniently used to louche one’s absinthe. The ritual is: to break from your wandering over the mountains for a glass of locally distilled absinthe, diluted by gloriously fresh spring water. You would then demonstrate your gratitude by dropping a little money into the locked upper slot, and continue on your way.
This secret absinthe fountain is one of several dotted around these hills, we were told. This one is maintained by a boy who would regularly purchase the absinthe directly from its distiller, Claude Alain Bougnon in the nearby town of Couvet, then reaps the financial rewards left in the locked compartment by grateful travellers.
This experience was a distinct highlight from a wonderful weekend. Here’s some video…
Last weekend was the first venture out on the kayak. We got wet, we broke stuff, bobbed on the water a bit, and had a thoroughly great time.
Back in my teens I canoed a fair bit, and even achieved a basic canoeing instructors qualification – likely expired. My old canoe – appropriately named Green Goddess – still hangs in my Dad’s garage. So the prospect of spending some time on the water again was something I was not going to pass up.
We picked up a second hand, sit-on-top kayak about three weeks ago. Large enough to carry two adults (“plus a child or dog” is often included in the sales blurb), it is something of a plastic beast and I was concerned about how much effort it would take to paddle it. It came with back-rests and paddles, so we had to shop for safety equipment and even a roof rack to carry it.
The calm and glorious weather last weekend was ideal for our first venture out, so we popped it (sorry, heaved it) onto the roof of the car and drove the full mile down to the sea. The tide was close to low water, so we were glad of the lightweight, two-wheel trolley to help get the boat down to the surf.
I’ve paddled the sea a couple of times and know well how tricky it can be to get through the surf and into calmer waters beyond. But with two paddlers, that is far trickier. One, the front-most, must get into the boat first, the other following once it is in enough water to float. This must happen between waves, so timing would be critical. Jen climbed in, I pushed the boat a little further and lept up. But the kayak turned a little away from the approaching wave before I could grab my paddle and so we were firmly dunked!
We timed it just right for the second attempt and soon we were on the almost totally smooth water beyond the surf.
The beach shrunk away quite quickly, as did the sounds of people and the surf. Just a few hundred yards out and all we could hear was the slight lapping of water against the kayak hull. Below, the sea was clear enough to see right to the sandy bottom. (We did not take out cheap sonar “fish-finder” this time, so I’m not sure how deep the water was.)
Chucking some lures
With low levels of fitness – and Jen being just out the other side of her cold – we decided to be safe and not paddle far. Instead, we floated around near the entrance to the cove with her dipping Mackerel feathers and me spinning a lure for any interested Pollock. It was inappropriate conditions and location for either of those fish, but this outing was really about orientation and familiarity.
Next time, we’ll go further, perhaps around nearby Cambeak point, a likely spot for fish, and a great test for the little fish=finder. This is a small sonar device that floats behind your boat, measuring the depth of water and sensing any passing shoals of fish. I’ve never used one before, so it should prove interesting. (And yes, I am having to fight the temptation to test it in our goldfish tank!)
By the time we returned to the beach, after perhaps an hour, the surf had increased a little with the now incoming tide. The plan was to ride a wave or two right into the beach – and we almost made it! Unfortunately, I failed the steering task by getting my paddle trapped between surging water and boat, turning us sideways for another dunking in the last three feet of water.
Boats need maintenance
Boats always seem to need something doing to them. Stuff breaks, stuff gets beaten by salty water, stuff gets lost. We were no exception.
The return dunking overturned the kayak and resulted in the rear fishing rod holder snapping in its mount (easily replaced). We also managed to lose the front drainage plug when emptying water on the beach. Plus, the uneven sand caught and broke our little two-wheeled trolley. At least only the drain plug will be a necessary (and cheap) purchase before the next trip.
It will take us a few trips to properly familiarise ourselves with the kayak and how to handle it. But before the summer is out, I expect we’ll be heading further out to sea and perhaps paddling around headlands and onto inaccessible coves. The ultimate aim is to catch a fish or two en route, to cook and each it for lunch on a beach before heading home. Now doesn’t that sound like a satisfying day out?
