Pete Thorn’s account of a memorable adventure. Budleigh Salterton was our only conceivable campsite for the night. As we rounded the corner into the bay, a scene of holiday devastation unfolded. On the long shingle spit by the river mouth, hundreds of very pale new visitors were everywhere. Many disposable BBQs were creating choking grey smoke so it looked a bit like the campsite of a besieging army. We anticipated a noisy night but hoped for the best. It did get quieter after midnight, though in the morning there were abandoned cans and broken bottles which we made some attempt to clear up. However, for the most part, our camps were a delight and not too difficult to find. Shingle or rounded stones were preferred. Sand looks nice but gets everywhere. We had tried to research wild camping places using maps and Google Earth. Much of the coast between the Isle of Wight and Plymouth features steep cliffs, often with newly fallen material at the bottom. The notion of completing the passage round the whole SW coast had been in our minds for a while. The overall distance from Isle of Wight to Plymouth was in the region of 160 nautical miles. During the trip we ranged from 15nm to 21nm/day. A fantastic coastline, not too far to travel from North Devon, with many iconic features. We could break it into one week sections, so more of a holiday than a mission. Not wilderness but still very attractive. Covid had delayed departure but July can be relied on for mostly good weather. With diaries coordinated, we needed to get started. We positioned a van in Plymouth with a helpful friend. Then Clive’s wife Susie kindly agreed to drop us off in Keyhaven, so there would be no need for vehicle recovery at the end. Keyhaven, near Hurst castle on the Solent, is ideal as a start point, though parking is desperate. The friendly river warden let us off the £10 launch fee/boat when he heard of our trip. Gradually, all the supplies and equipment we would need for an eight day trip disappeared into the hatches of our kayaks. Easy enough for me and Clive, paddling Tiderace Pace 17s, but a headache for Maria in her Valley Sirona day boat. Lots of smaller drybags rather than fewer large ones is the way to go but it’s a daily challenge to pack it all in, apart from remembering where things are. Is the boat trimmed properly? Are there any steel objects near the compass? Can I easily reach that cag, food, drink, sunglasses etc., while afloat? In all cases the boats were very heavy, requiring care not to sit them on anything sharp and tape slings to enable all three of us to lift them into the water. On that basis, a group of four paddlers would seem ideal, two at each end. The routine was to get the boats near the water, then lug all the bags down in two ubiquitous Ikea bags. These are remarkably tough and pack away to nothing as the last items. For navigation, we had laminated copies of the 1:50,000 OS maps and numbered them. I had the SW coast guidebook. Maria had a Reeds almanac for tidal data and the OS package on her phone. This was enough for a handrailing coastal trip with no significant crossings. For communication we had mobile phones for wind forecasts and VHF radios, just in case…. Power was available through power packs, pre-charged, plus a folding solar panel. This last was remarkably effective but we did have a great deal of sunshine. The tides were not ideal for this trip, but they were weak on the south coast so an irritation rather than an obstacle. Ideal would have been high water in the morning, making launching easy and then the benefit of the ebb to help us along. High water at Hurst castle was around midday and we consulted the almanac to gauge when it would be feasible to get round Hurst Point. To kill some time, we went for a stroll round the massive ramparts (some of which have recently collapsed into the sea) and queued for a coffee, all masked up. Eventually we were off, getting a tidal push round the point, where spring tides can flow at six knots. We watched the coast go by in slow motion, passing Christchurch before stopping for a break at Hengistbury Head. Then, we headed out across the bay to avoid looking at Bournemouth. Old Harry Rocks are chalk cliffs, visible for miles, and mark the end of the bay, with Poole Harbour, the famous Sandbanks and the naturist beaches at Studland. Perhaps Old Harry should be renamed Redknapp Rocks? They feature a series of rather temporary looking stacks with some arches to paddle through at high tide. We were going well, having covered 10 nautical miles in 2 hour 15 minutes since Hengistbury, so paddled round into Swanage Bay and camped at the end farthest away from the Town. We had done 20nm on the first day with useful tidal assistance. The terraced shingle beach was ideal with flat surfaces and no sand. We borrowed rocks from a large pile in lieu of useless tent pegs. After this first night, we dispensed with the tents and slept out. This gave stunning midnight star scenes and saved time getting the tent sorted. The only downsides were little hopping insects which emerge at night and a slightly damp sleeping bag if there was dew. Clive produced his goretex bivi bag and claimed dryness. On day two we made a leisurely start as the tide would not be helpful till later. Coffee and pasties in Swanage were a treat and we filled water bottles. Water was a continuing challenge as we each carried only six litres, which would barely do two days. Budleigh Salterton fared worst in our survey of public taps, as they had one but it didn’t …
