The Sennen Cove Diary
July 4th - Saturday
The cloud from yesterday afternoon persisted into today. I believe that it had rained quite heavily during the night and the street was still wet first thing. It did not affect our early morning walk which was early because I had to get ahead of the posse before the cash and carry delivery arrived.
I was down in the shop early and eager. My aim was to get the ordinary deliveries out of the way so that I could concentrate on the big one. It turned out that this was somewhat tricky as the ordinary deliveries had not yet arrived, so I was stuck with topping up the beer and soft drinks fridges instead. Naturally, the newspapers arrived halfway through the cash and carry delivery, but they just had to wait until we were finished. At least they were all present and correct this week.
It was not a very big order this week. I had only called it in because we had run out of cider so the rest was just window dressing so that I could make minimum order. It was probably just as well because I had called in some extra water at the end of the week, and it was piled up at the end of the store room. I had also ordered an abundance of cider. There is too much for the cupboard so I will have to put up with a small pile of cases in front of the freezer for a week or two.
The other natural development of having a store room full of groceries to unpack and put away was that we started to see customers in some numbers. I had managed to put as much of the beer away as wood fit in the cupboard and managed to sneak in a breakfast, which is more than I did yesterday. It was very soon after that the customer visits started to come thick and fast. I was able to shift one pack of groceries at a time between visits but by the middle of the afternoon, I had to give up entirely because the pasties (sorry, MS) needed more attention than I could give them doing the delivery as well.
I had concerns about the number of pasties we had after the poor showing of the last couple of days. The action today went some way to redressing the balance, but I think we would have to have an unusually bumper day tomorrow if we were to sell them all. I took the decision that I would need to freeze some while they were still fresh and hope that I had not frozen too many.
Classic cars are not top of my list of interests, but it can be pleasing to see them coast by. There are occasional classic car rallies that start off in The Cove or more likely Land’s End during the year. Sometimes we get to see an old Rolls Royce or a string of Triumph Staggs, which I think was one of the latest. Currently we have a gentleman staying who is a regular visitor but it was only this year that he mentioned that he had driven down from Liverpool in a ‘classic’.
The busyness of the day had evaporated, and we were rolling into the last hour of opening when a bright red Triumph Vitesse pulled up outside. It was immaculate and purred quietly as its straight six, two litre engine turned over. I did not see who it was at first, but he waved to me and I went and had a chat. My, what a motor car with its walnut veneer dashboard and clear round dials and its ever so small bench seat in the back currently occupied by a big shaggy dog.
Back when we were boys, my pal had inherited a Triumph Herald and he would have given my right arm for a Vitesse – if he had given his, it would have severely limited his ability to drive it. I had a Cortina 1600 with dickie steering, but that is another story. They were our first cars (although I had a mini traveller before the Cortina which is best not mentioned at all) and seeing the Vitesse rather transported me back there for a while. I had quite forgotten how awful being eighteen years of age was.
We had a proper five minutes to closing rush and, right at the end, a lady who engaged me in conversation about the lack of St Ives tour bus. She, with everybody else I have spoken with about it, agreed that it was a tragic loss. No one can comprehend how it could possibly have made a loss as it was always busy in season. The service remove is a detriment to the holiday trade and the businesses from The Cove to St Ives.
The chat put me well back on my attempt to close the shop roughly on time and I was beset with more customers and potential customers as I tried to haul in the outside display. One of the last visitors was a very pleasant man who had taken a tumble on the path and required some first aid that he said his wife was happy to administer, he just needed plasters and the such like. Fortunately, we have a reasonably well stocked first aid kit and I was able to supply dressings, sterile wipes and a bandage.
Just as I was about to close the door and finish the till for the day, one of the Boat Crew stopped by and alerted me to an incident in progress well to the southwest of us. A fishing boat was on fire and had issued a ‘pan pan’ to warn of its predicament. There was a possibility that we might launch but the Coastguard deemed St Mary’s to be closer and launched them instead.
As things developed, St Mary’s Harbour Master told the Coastguard that the stricken vessel could not be brought back there as they had no means to salvage it. It would have to go to Newlyn or back to France, where it came from. As it happened, the crew abandoned boat as the fire took hold and St Mary’s Lifeboat recovered them and took them back to St Mary’s. Apparently, St Mary’s have the facilities to salvage unboated French fishermen.
Later, another vessel called in a sighting of a burning fishing boat. I was quite surprised by the length of the subsequent enquiry – how big is the boat, where is the boat, is there a name on the hull, any sign of people on board – when it was in the same location as the earlier vessel. I understand that the Coastguard needed to be sure, but that seemed a little over the top.
The girls dragged me around the block for our last walk out. The car park was more populated than any of the evenings last week and there were a few people still milling about. I had noticed on Friday night that it was busier in the evening than it had been during the day – I was tempted to reopen. It all points to hopefully a bigger influx for the coming week. All we need now is the weather.
July 3rd - Friday
We started the day as we hoped it would go on, in terms of the weather, at least. There was a geet big shiny sun rising over Escalls or somewhere like that and reflecting brightly off the sea. It was perfectly temperate, although I had worn a jacket when I took the girls around first thing expecting at least a bit of a chill in the breeze. There was none.
Despite the upturn in the weather, the start of the business day was just lacklustre as the day before. If that was a disappointment, at least the newspapers turned up in time and in good order. I still have not heard from the Laurel and Hardy Newspaper Company, but it is clear that they have made an effort even if they are unwilling to talk to me about it. There was only a bread delivery after that, and I did not even have to top up the soft drinks fridge. It is one of the few advantages of not having any customers buying things.
There is help at hand, however – the Scottish are coming. The shop was overrun with two small boys, their mum and grandmother. I am sure that there must have been more of them. It certainly seemed like there was. They spent an inordinate amount of time choosing some gifts and sweets before coming to the till. Just as they were about to leave, grandmother noted that they were still missing their buckets and spades, the whole purpose of coming into the shop in the first place.
I was roundly disabused of any hope that I might have had that we put a dent in our pasty numbers (sorry, MS) today. I had based my weekend order on actually selling some yesterday and today. Unless we get very busy over the weekend, which I would say is unlikely, quite a lot of the stock will be going into the freezer.
At least we had a delivery. I was expecting a consignment of plastic postal bags last night. The Doing Parcels Dreadfully company had told me that the delivery would arrive after we closed last night. There was no parcel left when I looked after returning from the Lifeboat station when we finished. I met another driver today when they had a second attempt at delivering it, this time more successfully. He told me that the previous driver had got as far as the Lifeboat station and could not find THE OLD BOATHOUSE despite it being in foot high, chrome lettering across the front of the building. I suggested that perhaps he should seek a different career, one that did not involve observation.
I had time to make observations of my own. We have a big, spring tide, low water beach to gaze down upon. The top end had a line of camps, surprisingly large in number, which might explain where some of my customers had gone. There was then a large expanse of unoccupied sand before the sea that was pleasantly populated with a number of swimmers and surfers in roughly equal numbers. Some of the latter were out the back with a good number of, presumably, less experienced, closer into shore.
The inner shore was dotted with light colour under the water or exposed sandbars right across the beach. It was probably causing a few unwelcome currents and prompted the Lifeguards to put the jet ski out on patrol. There was still a bit of swell and even at low water it was generating some very surfable waves. I could tell because people were surfing on them. It seems that it was those sandbars doing all the heavy lifting because as the tide pushed in, the waves diminished.
Towards the later part of the afternoon, cloud cover rolled in. Some of the young Boat Crew had decided on a barbeque on the beach and were a bit disappointed as the weather deteriorated a bit. They carried on regardless and were still down there when I took the girls around last thing. They had on iron brazier type thing raised a couple of feet off the sand that was blazing away, even then. There were around a dozen, families included, down there enjoying the late evening.
We left them to it. After a hard day at the tin stope, I was after my bed. While we might have had few customers, I had to apply myself to make sure the store room had enough space for the cash and carry delivery tomorrow. Then, late in the shop day we had an extended five minutes to closing rush, presumably as all those beach dwellers realised they needed things for their tea. Actually, some realised they needed gifts to take home including some posh mugs. It all saved the day, making the till look respectable at the last gasp.
I am not sure I care for these last minute reprieves; it upsets the equilibrium no end.
July 2nd - Thursday
It was a very disappointing sight looking from the window first thing: the mist was back. The wind had gone to the northwest again, which gave us all the trouble before. Radio Pasty and other commentators had told me that it would clear in the afternoon, but it was still hanging about at gone one o’clock. There was a fair amount of mizzle with the low cloud, too. That came and went and in between, it seemed awfully warm although the breeze took the edge off it a bit.
We were a little busier a little earlier today. Our visitors still shunned the early morning but closing in on the middle of the day, we started to see, couples mainly, buying going home presents. At one point there was a bit of a crowd developing across the road on the benches, but it came to nothing in the end. I think that many people were trying to guess whether the mist would clear or not before deciding what they would do today. It would seem that in the end, they all beggered off somewhere else.
One of our neighbours from a way up the hill discovered our Sea Sisters canned pilchards and hake as she made one of her random visits. She told me that they were visiting friends abroad next week and wanted something different to take as gifts. I had been very surprised how quickly these premium cans of fish had sold, given the price. I think that I have explained before, expensive they may be, but the quality is exemplary and very much value for money as a special treat.
The display had been thinning out quite quickly and I had been planning to order some more over the last few days. Our neighbour’s purchase of three, pushed me to place the order immediately after she left. I had a reply almost immediately. The only stock they had was for one of the pilchards and a cuttlefish, which I did not think would sell all that well. The rest was Norfolk whelks which was pushing the boundaries of local produce a little too far.
Reluctantly, I decided against buying just the one line as I think that the tins work well as a range. I did ask if we could have a conversation about their production cycle so that I could plan when we might purchase replacements, but I think, given the timing, it will have to wait until next year. I had a reply to my query a little later in the afternoon and was given one of the founding partners’ telephone numbers. I will pick the best time and give her a call.
A little way into the afternoon, our new railing arrived. This was a surprise. It was a surprise on two counts. First, it arrived far more quickly than I might have imagined because I was almost certain that it was custom made; the length of it was not a standard size. The biggest surprise, however, was the weight and construction of the thing.
It rather exceeded my expectations and was something probably more likely seen attached to brick-built outhouses or perhaps outside military establishments aimed at deterring enemy tanks. During ordering, I had at the last moment shortened the run to make an allowance for the elliptical feet. Even so, I now feared that due to their chunkiness, it would not fit. I put the feet in place and measured again and, in theory, it just about works. We also appear to have an extra handrail, which I cannot quite fathom, there being two lengths for the legs but two extra poles of handrail length. Ah, I just fathomed it. We have a mid-height rail as well - for small people.
The expected afternoon rush never happened. This, of course, was a huge disappointment because the morning quiet, though not as quiet as previous days, did happen. It means that we will have far too many pasties (sorry, MS) for the weekend. We perambulated slowly through the rest of the afternoon until I had made my sandwich ahead of Lifeboat training in the evening. Then we got busy.
Having been quiet all afternoon until that point, it took me more than an hour to eat my sandwich. I just about finished before I had to close up and head over to the Lifeboat station.
The day had transformed after my last complaint about the mist not clearing. The skies were cloudless and the sun was truly in command. I should really have worn my Top Gun aviator sunglasses as I drove the Tooktrak down to a fairly busy beach. There were some young ladies gathered on the old slipway to my right as I drove down, waiting on a bit of wall jumping as soon as I was out of the way. There was not a great deal of room to position the boat as the tide was almost fully in and we waited there until the big boat launched.
There was still enough swell in the bay to push a bit of water over the Harbour wall, much to the delight of the aforementioned young ladies. There were some kayaks afloat in the Harbour as well, messing about, so the swell was not severe. It was enough, however, for our young lady helm to complain that her knees had taken a battering during their hour and a half training. I am surprised that the Institution has not issued some mandate on how to knee to avoid the long-term effects as they are usually quite hot on such things.
We hung about in the crew room and discussed matters of great import while drinking cups of tea and consuming flapjacks that our sole lady member of the very excellent Shore Crew thought to provide. She is a prolific baker and nearly always brings a cake of some sort on a Thursday when she attends. Some ungrateful bounder did suggest that the flapjacks were a little lacklustre as they had no chocolate in them. I will have words with myself later.
We were called to the boat hall by an enthusiastic member of the team who thought to ring the bell when he saw the big boat come back into the bay. It had only arrived to continue it exercise plan and we had to wait another half an hour in the sunshine until it had finished.
I saw the Inshore boat heading back to the Harbour and went to attend to the Tooktrak. I was in the throes of my preparations when the same crew member who had prematurely rung the attendance bell asked that the Inshore return to the bay so that he could photograph both boats doing a ‘fly-past’. He is not only an avid and accomplished photographer but also the pseudo-official station photographer and also is used by the Institute on occasion to attend and photograph events. It added another half an hour to our proceedings which, of course, we did not mind at all [it says here].
While I attended to bringing the Inshore boat back onto the trailer with a rolling swell not making the job any easier, the big boat was coming back onto the slipway. I had a very clear view and can attest to the fact that it was indeed a textbook recovery up the shop slip. The rest of the procedure, I had to assume because I was engaged in taking the Inshore boat up the Harbour slipway for a wash down and putting away.
We returned to assist with the big boat’s recovery when we had finished and saw to the securing of the boat and the turning on the cradle to make the boat ready for its next service. We are, after all, a very fastidious, very excellent Shore Crew.
July 1st - Wednesday
Well, that is a relief and one less thing to be concerned about.
I spent my rest time last night reading the latest missive from the DRS (collecting plastic bottles) people. With every episode, more detail is added to the story. Up until the last issue of news, small stores could be exempted from the scheme if they were in the high street and a bigger store nearby was included. Things were a little less clear about rural stores and we almost certainly would have no one nearby taking one for the team.
The latest newsletter expanded the definitions of exemption which now automatically excludes all stores smaller than 100 square metres. Then, the next band is urban stores between 100 square metres and 199 square metres can apply to be considered for exemption. Now, quite what the difference is, I am struggling to determine, but rural stores of less than 200 square metres can also apply. Cor, if you had an urban store at 199.5 square metres you would either be very miffed or off buying some bricks to close off half a square metre of your shop.
I was not certain, but I thought that we were below or just above 100 square metres of floor space. I checked with the Government’s business rates valuation pages where it details our business rates calculation. Hallelujah, we are 98.2 square metres and automatically exempt from this utter lunacy. I am very pleased that our size is officially recorded because come the time, we can point at the official record and tell the DRS people to go away – very politely, of course.
It does beg the question, however, of how people buying and paying deposits on their soft drinks, will reclaim their money. I really cannot see them taking their empty bottles to Penzance based on my observations that they sometimes find it difficult to take them 10 metres to the nearest litter bin. I know that I am naturally sceptical, but I cannot see the process working except in closed environments. The DRS people ran a pilot at the Wimbledon Championships Qualifying Competition in Roehampton. That is precisely the closed environment I am suggesting where it will work. The purchases are consumed, and the return machines are there, on hand. No one but the very committed are going to carry their empties around until they find a return point.
Well, there is half The Diary for the day, and we have not got around to life in The Cove yet.
For the first time in more than a week I managed to get to the gymnasium. Life has conspired to prevent me for the previous week or more, so I was very much looking forward to getting a blistering session in before attempting the north face of the day in the shop. We were, as this week is seeming to prove, very quiet in the morning. I could probably have slipped away for an hour and no one would have noticed but I dutifully waited for the Missus to relieve me, just in case.
As the Missus was going shopping as soon as I returned, I took the girls out for a spin. Since BB’s operation, I have been taking them both around on the lead. This morning, however, both pulled me down the slipway and despite putting up a reasonable fight, I caved and decided to let them off the lead with serious misgivings about doing so for the injured party. I had thought that her stitches would provide some control as it would be uncomfortable to be too energetic. How wrong could I be. She took off like a rocket and was still bolting around the beach when I got down there to try and slow her down. You would think she had been incarcerated for a week. In the end, I had to put her back on the lead and told her not to grass me up to the Missus.
By the time I got back to the shop the afternoon trade was starting to move. The cloud cover that we had endured all morning, slowly cleared to half a sky of blue and gave us some sunshine. This jacked up the enthusiasm no end and we saw some buoyant business all during the afternoon as indeed we have on all the other days of this week so far.
The swell that I said was not there yesterday showed its hand in the evening with a deep rolling ground sea. It came again in the middle of the afternoon today with the tide on the push and beckoned a few surfers out into the bay. Again, with westerly or southwesterly breezes, the surf was not up to much, but it was better than it being flat calm which it looks like we are heading towards again by the end of the week.
Talking of calm, The Cove emptied out at shortly before five o’clock. Apparently, there was some sporting event most people wanted to dash off and watch. I was left to my own devices until, undeterred by a must see football match, enough people broke away to give us a five minutes to closing rush.
Just before they started to arrive, I received a telephone call which I should have just left alone but I had to leave closing the curtains and go around the counter to see what the number was, so I reasoned I it would not take long to get rid of whoever it was.
Most customers now telephone from a mobile telephone and this was a landline, so I expected some salesperson or similar but instead got someone from the Performing Rights people. I have, in the past, had scam callers claiming to be the PRS so I very reasonably asked the very pleasant person to find someway of verifying who he was – although, given the number, I was reasonably sure it was genuine. It was at this moment that the rush started.
I asked very pleasantly our very pleasant man to go away but he persisted. I put down the telephone and served my customers with him bleating in my ear (my false ears are connected to the telephone, which is very handy – usually). I asked him again to desist but he kept telling me that it would only take a minute. I should have just put the telephone down on him, which at least would have stopped me getting cross with him, but it felt rude to do so and my telephone etiquette is exemplary – well, it was until I got cross with him and it all ended badly.
I had told him to send me a message with his questions. He sent me a message that merely gave their working hours, which was no help at all since I did not intend to call them. I have recently answered some questions from the Valuation Office via its website, so I cannot see why the PRS cannot do the same. I sent them a reply because I did owe the very pleasant man an apology for being cross with him. I suggested he call again in November – when I will be in the middle of a field.
I closed the shop with the tumbleweed rolling down the deserted street – not a soul in sight. It was still quiet later when I took the girls around. Maybe we lost.