The Sennen Cove Diary
July 7th - Tuesday
I ran into a wall of fog as soon as I opened the door first thing. I am glad it was soft.
The fog was a good deal thicker than it was yesterday at the same time. It had all day yesterday and all of the night to practise being thick, I suppose. It was the same enveloping silence on the beach while we were there but this time there was no lapping of waves on the shore today. The girls had a paddle.
A couple of the morning deliveries were late arriving that made packing things and getting them on the shelf a little fraught while I waited for the pasties to arrive (sorry, MS). As I feared, these arrived while I was in the middle of bagging the tomatoes and I had to hurriedly clear the top of the freezer I was working on. Earlier, I had to close the first electric sliding door in The Cove on a premature customer while I salted away the milk and rushing back to open it again only to find they had moved on.
We did not have the early rush of yesterday. I suspect that our visitors having fallen for the bright day forecast once were not going to be fooled again. I think, too, that the upper cloud cover was thicker today as it was not so bright and did not look so full of potential. Just to trick us all, the fog cleared quite quickly leaving a heavy haze in the bay and blue out to the east. Out to the west, the fog merely lifted and hung about in the air.
It took a while for our visitors to cop on to the improving weather. It seemed that it got busier in line with the slow improvements in the weather until, by the middle of the afternoon, we were very busy indeed and the sunshine was pummelling the wide expanse of bright sand. The inevitable camp sprung up along the high tide line; they would not be disturbed as the tide was not due back until long after they had gone home.
We would have been busy in the shop regardless, but just to make it interesting, the Missus decided to unload the truck just as we were getting into our stride for the day. There was a lot to unload, as well. She had gone around the shop with an A4 pad while I was at the gymnasium and made an extensive list of all the things that were missing off the shelves. She returned with the truck brimming with goodies yesterday evening but elected to leave it until today to unload it all – just as we were getting busy.
It is rather more than just unloading. Much of it needs to be priced and the aqua shoes need to be unwrapped and the hangers attached. Labels need to be cut off, and the resulting rubbish bagged and loaded into the bin. Between us we need to get it out onto the shelves and since we were getting busier all the while, this took some time.
The Missus finished her bit going on two o’clock and left me for The Farm with a geet pile of shoes and gifts to put out. As I was a little preoccupied at the till, this took until almost the close of play. Just to add to the jeopardy, the farm shop cash and carry turned up, so I had to break that down, priced the goods and put them out as well.
All the while we were entertaining a healthy flow of customers. They were buying many things, but pasties were not one of them. We had cleared out our order on Monday, so I ordered the same again. The poor sales were not apparent until after the deadline, so we will have a glut of them tomorrow. I certainly did not have time to worry about it during the afternoon as I was far too busy serving customers and clearing the store room between them.
There came a point when I had to stop and concentrate on the orders for tomorrow and ensuring all the cardboard I was generating was boxed away so that I could put it out for collection tomorrow. At least I had the right day this time. Last week I was a day early for some reason.
I was told that it was hot on the beach during the afternoon. I cannot say that I was feeling it in the shop or out the front on the occasion that I ventured that far. I did have the fan on, but that is more habit than anything else. Even when I took the girls around last thing, the air seemed comfortably cool, and they insisted on walking all the way around. They had come back early from The Farm as the Missus said it was getting too hot for them up there. They did seem quite subdued when they returned.
They were even more subdued later when the Missus went across the road for her very special meeting. If she goes off shopping, they are merely quiet. When she goes across the road, they know she is there and are utterly restless, starting at every likely sound of her coming back or at the window staring at the Lifeboat station door.
They had double helpings tonight. First the meeting across the road and later, she went off to Land’s End to see a drone show. Land’s End Attraction are running drone shows alongside the fireworks they have on a Tuesday and Thursday night during the holidays – I presume not exactly at the same time. It is the latest night sky entertainment and very possibly will eventually supplant fireworks altogether. The very clever companies have dozens or sometimes hundreds of lit up drones, changing colour and forming shapes and patterns in the sky all computer controlled.
The Missus went up to see the trials as she has it on mind to perhaps run a show in aid of the Institute on bonfire night – all very cutting edge. She will have us delivering pasties to the beach by drone before the end of next year, I expect. Ooh, now there is an idea.
July 6th - Monday
Do I look like a baker? Does the smell of freshly baked bread waft from the shop doorway and into the street accosting passers by and compelling them hence. Do I look a pasty (sorry, MS) white, covered from head to toe in fine powder of flour. Is the word BAKERY lit up in bright neon above the first electric sliding door in The Cove.
I think that all the above questions can be answered in the negative most of the time. Therefore, please tell me why, on a fairly frequent basis do I get asked if our baked bready comestibles are freshly baked, like just a few minutes before they find themselves to our shelves.
This morning, I was asked if the croissants, delivered this morning, were the ‘freshest we had’. It was a poorly phrased question. If they were the only croissants in the shop and ten days old, they would indeed be the freshest in the shop. Pedantry aside, I took the question to mean – well, I am not sure what I took it to mean. Did they look old and tired, was it a suggestion that I might have fresher still locked away somewhere or was I planning to bake another batch in a few minutes that the customer would happily wait for to ensure that they were as fresh as they could possibly be.
The croissants arrive loose and hence do not have a date on them, so I should start to label them, perhaps. This will still not help the questions about the bread being straight from the oven, but customers will be able to decide whether it meets their rigorous definitions of fresh.
If I looked straight up, there was the suggestion that the sky was blue and free of cloud. Looking ahead, there was plenty of cloud, so much in fact that I could not see the beach. The fog came and went and at one point around half past seven o’clock, almost went completely. Moments later it was back again, just as thick as it had been before.
I had a call first thing from Trevedra campsite and the very pleasant lady there told me that she had her head in the clouds, too. Then I spoke with a builder who lives in the estate at the top of the hill who told me that it was cloud free there. It is a strange and fickle beast, our fog and very hard to fathom at all. I fielded questions all morning and into the afternoon about whether the mist would clear or not. With the wind in the northwest again, I favoured it hanging around for a bit which meant it promptly eased out in the early afternoon.
Then it came back again … and went again … then came back. There was no idea whether it was coming or going but it did provide some entertainment and a talking point. In between coverings, the beach looked resplendent under a blue sky washed with high cirrus clouds. There were plenty of people down there, too, and many in the water doing various things that largely did not include surfing. The swell has completely smoothed out now and the sea was like glass. However, we started selling parasols again.
Earlier in the day, when I took the girls down the Harbour beach, the mist was doing an admirable job of damping out any sound other than that of the lapping waves. It really was quite surreal as that was the only sound no matter how hard I strained my unenhanced ears. It was quite splendid being there amongst all that silence and watching the girls root about. I could have enjoyed it a lot longer had a not a shop to go and open.
We had an opening rush when I did throw aside the first electric sliding door in The Cove. That was quite a surprise but the sun was trying its hardest to break through. The busyness went on for the best part of an hour before I was suddenly thrown into quietness. I took the opportunity to call the drinks people who had sent me the statement and the purportedly unpaid invoice. I did not get to speak with the accounting lady as she was talking with someone and let her telephone divert to customer service.
The very pleasant lady I spoke with there put me on hold while she tried to connect me to the now free lady in accounts. As luck would have it, I was pipped at the post by another telephone caller. The very pleasant lady on the customer service desk told me that the lady in accounts had said that the matter was in hand and that I should not worry about it. Had I been able to speak with her in person, I might have asked why then had she sent me a statement and the offending invoice and caused me to go trawling my CCTV – unnecessarily, it now seems.
There is still the matter that we have not been sent any invoices since we started again this year. I will give it a day or two before I try again and see if we can resolve that issue as well.
I was even less successful trying to make contact with the canned fish people. I left a message and told them I would call back. It was going to be quite an involved call and it would be no good trying to conduct it while I was in the shop. I called again when I came back from the gymnasium. Although I got through this time, it was not the owner who I had been advised to contact. We had a meaningful conversation anyway and the very pleasant lady I spoke with told me that she was sure we could work it out if I wrote instead. I will try that later when I have some time to write it all down.
We had a lull in hostilities in the shop after the initial opening salvoes. By the time I got back to the shop it was busy again and remained so for much of the rest of the day. As I noted, there were plenty of people on the beach. There were also plenty promenading and taking up table space across the road as they shopped, rested and ate breakfasts and snacks. I was kept gainfully employed for the remainder of the day up until around four o’clock when it went quiet again. I suspect that the forecast had not detailed the fog here, hence the crowds. I always said that those forecasters were good sorts.
We cannot have been the only ones in the Cove who were busy today. About the middle of the afternoon I had a couple arrive asking for pasties. They had started at the kiosk at The Beach and worked their way through the likely venues until they got to us. Apparently, we were the last pasties in town. I am surprised we were not cleaned out but perhaps not all the beach dwellers were as tenacious as the two I met.
I wrapped up the shop hours with just a small five minutes to closing rush to deal with. I had been busy with other matters so had to stay behind to complete the orders. Yesterday, I was surprised that while we had been wiped clean of bread and the greengrocery had taken a battering, the dairy had been largely untouched. Our customers made amends today and had a good go at the milk and cheese.
After tea, I had a go at writing to the fish canning people. I think I got my concerns across. I suspect it likely we will have to buy stock during the winter and guess at the volumes we need. The cans are high price and high quality and my guess is that the peak sales will be outside school holidays, largely May to end July and again in September; they are not family fare, really. I await their response.
As we closed the day, the mist was fighting back again. I thought it might as the temperature dropped a bit. It was wrapping itself around Cape Cornwall in a rather artist manner when I closed the shop, but it was working its way along the cliffs when I was heading to bed. My guess is we will not see the bay again until the middle of the day again tomorrow.
July 5th - Sunday
Another disappointing start to the day with an absence of sunshine and an overwhelming presence of impenetrable cloud. I am beginning to think the Walker Brothers were right, the sun ain’t gonna shine anymore. It is entirely possible that our customers thought so too because they failed to turn up in anything like droves for the entirety of the morning.
While I would have much rather been serving customers, the pause did give me the opportunity to trawl our CCTV for footage of me paying the beer delivery man. The company has once again questioned whether we parted with the requisite funds on receipt of the last order. The paperwork arrived on Saturday, so I have not had the opportunity to speak with the accounts department. On the last occasion this happened, the very pleasant lady in accounts indirectly accused me of dishonesty by not accepting my word that we had paid. I had to provide CCTV footage to prove that I had.
We may not have to provide any proof this time; I made it perfectly clear how I felt about it last time. However, should we be compelled to do so, it takes a bit of time to extract the relevant clip from the extended footage. I set to with it fairly early on and since I had not used the software for a while, it took a little time to understand what I was doing wrong when it would not save the bits I wanted or took an age doing so. I think that it took most of the morning and now I am in two minds as to whether I would prefer not to need it or face battle with the company accountant and have the proof to defend myself. I will call on Monday.
My finishing tinkering with videos coincided quite nicely with an increase in the number of visitors frequenting the shop. Our end of The Cove went from quiet to busy in the blink of an eye which makes you wonder what it is that drive people to all turn up at the same time – possibly the bus, but I think that unlikely. We are up to the task of coping with such sudden changes in operation and I was very grateful to be able to stop playing with video editing to be brutally honest.
Generally, our sales are pretty straightforward; I do not often have to work very hard at it. Can I have a Cornish pasty (sorry, MS), I would like to buy this bucket and spade do not require much grumpy shopkeeper input other than, no, you are not having brown sauce with your pasty. Occasionally, however, we have to convince a customer that a particular wetsuit size is better than another or which gin would a mother-in-law best be suited to. While this can take longer to service a customer’s need than a straightforward transaction, it can add a level of interest and make the closed deal feel like an achievement.
Today, I had to delve deep in my pocket of experience in pursuit of a sale of a recipe book. Not only did I need to draw on some long-forgotten skill, I also had to penetrate a language barrier as the lady customer in question was Italian. Fortunately, her English was far better than my Italian, so we managed with me having to find the occasional synonym for items like butter. I did try and refrain from just saying it more loudly.
The lady had brought a Cornish recipe book to the counter and had explained that the recipe for Cornish pasties therein, failed to explain how to make shortcrust pastry. I ventured that the writer probably made the assumption that anyone making Cornish pasties these days would be using frozen, ready-made pastry. Quite rightly, the suggestion was met with derision; the lady wanted to make her own shortcrust pasty from scratch.
Now, it has been a while since I was making award winning pasties. For the reader who thinks that I may be frivolous in this claim, I did once win an award for making an award-winning pasty and, yes, I made the shortcrust pastry by hand – the proper way. I used to make them once a year but as the years advanced, I became more idle and should we fancy a pasty, we eat one from our frozen stock. So, this being the case, I had to look up the ratio of fat to flour before I proceeded. I had thought that she might know the rudiments thereafter, but she was at a total loss. I found myself giving a step by step account of how to make the pastry – how do you explain the crumbling of the fat and flour together by hand - while a queue slowly formed up behind the lady inquisitor. We now have half a dozen visitors instructed on the art of pastry making. Oh, and I sold the recipe book, to boot.
It was the sort of day that I could spend a little time with some customers. We had been deathly quiet during the morning and although it picked up in the afternoon, it was hardly what you might call busy. The crowds that had turned up had proven to be a bit of a disappointment when it came to parting with their hard-earned. We did have some notable spends but yesterday was at least twice as busy as gloomy Sunday.
I had not looked at a forecast but there were plenty of people who had expected sunshine in the afternoon here. Instead, we had a stream of customers telling us just how lovely it was in Penzance. There were just as many who said that the rest of the week would be blazing sunshine and tropical heat. I do not know where they got those ideas from, but I will believe them when the sun is in my eyes.
As the afternoon wound down – it did not take much winding down – I concentrated on the orders for Monday morning. On Saturday, we had been comprehensively cleaned out of our bread stock, the last remnants going in the morning, and the grocery shelves had taken a battering too. The only thing left relatively untouched was the milk, of which we have plenty left. During the earlier part of the afternoon, I had started the farm shop cash and carry order but had to abandon it because we got busy. I finished it off in the latter part of the afternoon and ordered plenty of bread for the morning, which we obviously will not need.
There was a fair amount of beach activity while we sat around the table for our tea in the evening. There was also mist creeping down from the cliff tops around Cape Cornwall which thickened and spread as the evening went on. It had not reached our bit of The Cove by the time I retired to bed which was shortly after the Missus came back from The Farm. She had spent the most of afternoon up there but had forgotten to take the pump batteries that let her water the growing areas. She took the girls who do not seem at all fed up with spending half their time up there, after all, there is plenty to explore even if the Missus has at last made the main gate escape proof.
The Farm visit reminded me that we have yet to find someone to repair the flail mower. I meant to ask our hedge cutting man back weeks ago when I noticed that the lane was overgrown. As the days get longer, there seems to be less time to do things. I doubt that I will have much time without a real concerted effort to get them done before the end of the season. Here we go again.
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.