Name: The Old Boathouse
Address: Penzance
Telephone: +44 1736 871215

The Sennen Cove Diary

July 13th - Sunday

I think yesterday was some sort of record for outside school holiday sales. My, my, we were some busy. I had already explained that the assorted hordes cleaned out the beer fridge and gave their best shot at doing the same to the soft drinks fridge as well. I may have mentioned that the ice cream freezer also took a bit of a battering and needed my attention too.

It did not help matters that the soft drinks were variously buried under yesterday’s delivery and also on the shelf behind it. It was mainly the 12 kilogram cases of water that were the problem and I had to shift eight of them – we had already used four - to gain easy access to all the other drinks. I had given myself additional time this morning and there were no other deliveries to distract me apart from a smattering of cheese from the dairy. Even then, I was close to opening the shop by the time I had finished only to discover that I had forgotten about the ice creams.

Fortunately, after a brief rush to be the first few customers of the day, there was enough of a lull in proceedings to allow me to top up the dwindling sections. I even managed to tack on my breakfast before the fight started, which on busy weekends was nigh on miraculous. I had taken a risk by having some of the newly arrived smoked salmon. It would have been akin to a crime to have to rush it.

We were busy enough today but not on the scale of yesterday. Quite what drove that level of busyness it is hard to say. The weather would have played a central role and today, the sun had had been filtered by some thickening high-level cloud – told you, rain coming. Had I subscribed to some of the outlandish conspiracy theories I have seen on social media, I might have blamed the Government for some sun dimming experiment or cloud seeding by some passing jet aeroplane. I cannot help feeling that people have too much time on their hands. I subscribe to the old fashioned notion that it is the weather.

Whether it be the weather or some mad scientist experiment that we are unaware of, there seems to be an abundance of butterflies around this year. I do not know their names anymore and we have not latterly been introduced. I can tell you that there were a few white ones fluttering about on the beach the other day and a red and dark coloured one on the slipway. For the last week they have fluttered past the first electric sliding door in The Cove and one even came in for a brief exploration before leaving again.

I looked up what an abundance of butterflies suggested and found that it meant Panama, or rather Panama means an abundance of butterflies which is why Panama is called Panama – it has bung loads of butterflies, I understand. It was not quite what I meant, so I amended my search and found that it simply means that the environment is healthy. Why the environment is healthier this year than, say last year, I have no idea. Everyone else is saying that it is knackered; the butterflies, clearly think otherwise.

I am with the butterflies on this one. The Missus called me halfway through the afternoon and waved a small bag of peas at me, produce of The Boathouse Farm. Whether we will have sufficient for the shop is debatable but right now, there was enough for my tea. This also would have been at risk if Mother had teeth, as there were not enough to share. I toyed with the idea of calling her dentist to delay her new dentures until after the pea season has ended.

We had some more extended quieter periods during the afternoon. I shamelessly squandered them by doing very little. There were still a few items in the store room that needed unwrapping and putting on shelves. I did a few but largely left them until tomorrow. It was at the end of the day that I had my work cut out for me. There was an abundance of ordering to do from all the denuding of the shelves that had gone on during the last thirty-six hours or whatever – I was not counting.

It was still plenty warm enough to be abroad in the evening without a jacket. I do not like to say that I told you so, but we had earlier watched from our window a couple of promenaders reach for their rain ponchos as a light line of showers passed through The Cove. It was brief, but it had rained for all those who thought me mad in the head.

The Harbour beach was occupied again as we passed by during our after tea walk, but mainly by sea. The proliferation of young bodies frolicking in the surf was absent tonight, although they had been there earlier and the car park just had the normal crowd of those possibly seeking to watch a glorious sunset later. The beach was completely deserted at nine o’clock when we passed by, but the sunset watchers looked to be having a treat. I was not awake long enough to see it.

July 12th - Saturday

I knew that this morning I would be sorely pressed for time. Greengrocery, newspapers, cash and carry and milk were all set to arrive, hopefully at different times. It was therefore me having to drag ABH out of bed first thing to get her out before the fight started. She was not happy.

She has not yet discovered my ruse that, after giving her a bit of a poke and getting a grumpy growl in response, I head to the living room and start talking to an imaginary person. So far, she has come running every time because she cannot bear to think she has not met someone.

We headed for the Harbour beach as usual where there was just a sliver of sand available to us almost at the top of the tide. When we had come past for our after tea walk the beach was still thronging from earlier. It could well have been the middle of a busy holiday day it was so busy down there. Likewise, the Harbour car park was rammed and with more vehicles arriving, we struggled to get through it. This morning, it could not have been more different with not a soul about and a very welcome easterly blast, however warm it was. Our very own little scirocco – how do you do.

With a little haste, I made my commitment to get down to the shop well ahead of the posse. It was still a task that took me almost until opening to repair the damage to the soft drinks fridge and the yawning gap left by the absence of beer in the beer fridge. As opening time approached, I put the Missus on standby to come down should the cash and carry turn up after opening time, which was looking increasingly likely.

I did have to call upon the Missus for some assistance because the cash and carry arrived shortly after we opened. It coincided with a small grocery delivery but mercifully the milk arrived ten minutes after we had finished. The Missus stayed to clear the backlog of tomatoes and litres of milk and made ready to head up to The Farm a good couple of hours in advance of her normal time.

What was left to do was all the cash and carry delivery and to fend off a growing number of customers while I worked my way through it. There were clearly new arrivals in town, and these mingled with the fortnight stayers to produce a very busy period. It did not go slack, and that was relatively speaking, until the early afternoon when I had to step up my processing of the delivery to get it done.

I was interrupted in my task by the arrival of the frozen order we had placed the day before. This was mainly ice creams and the order, thankfully, not one of our biggest. It did, however, need to be put away in a very timely manner especially as today was hotter still than the day before. Even the easterly breeze was not making that much difference in the shop today. I managed by simply dumping the boxes into the gap under the display and the other couple of items into the chest freezer in the store room. This would leave me hostage later when topping up the ice cream display would be an additional task on top of other no doubt urgent tasks when I would wish I had time to do it earlier.

I returned with some vigour to filling shelves in the shop between customers and when customers were not down the grocery aisle. A couple of hours later, the store room looked just as full as when I had started. I concluded that it was the cases of water that were filling up the space and creating the illusion. It probably was not, but that was what I concluded, and it made me feel much better about myself.

While I was dashing about waiting for the cash and carry man to arrive, Radio Pasty merrily announced that rain was on its way for Sunday afternoon. I was not completely sure that it was Sunday and the Missus told me that it was later in the week. However, it gave me enormous fun through the morning. Nearly every customer commented about the weather and how lovely it was, how hot and how very glorious. I would wait until the end of the discussion and casually throw in, ‘rain coming’. Oh, what a jolly wheeze, it was and kept me amused for ages.

In the closing stages of the day, with yet another five minutes to closing rush in full force, I could hear the thump of the bass line of the Sound Waves event kicking off at the new Surf Lodge, previously known as The Beach restaurant. It is what passes for a discotheque in the modern age where the disc jockey is an ‘artist’ and sometimes called a master of ceremonies (MC) – at least I assume that is what it stands for. I am not entirely sure why a person putting similar sounding records on a turntable and playing one after the other attains such giddy heights of adulation, but I think it is all in the way the first record segues into the next. Anyway, the result from afar is a continuing bass line thump for a very extended period. Thankfully, I am deaf.

This reminded me of an event that I failed to pick up on at the time. Some time on Friday morning the OS had its new pizza shed arrive. Yes, I know I have not mentioned it before, largely because I forgot all about it after someone mentioned that it had required planning permission.

One of the Lifeboat crew sent a photograph of it arriving. It looks rather like one of those modern takes on an old-fashioned shepherd’s hut that have been all the rage for camping in recent years. It is the same shape but at least twice the size and on very small wheels. I understand that it is to be hoisted to the terrace bar where it will sit comfortably with the concrete block of apartments the brewery erected in the car park and continue the tradition of, erm, architectural juxtaposition with the iconic seventeenth century inn.

Quite why the St Dreadful Brewery wanted to extend their food offering with a pizza shack is a little beyond me. Perhaps they were jealous of the popularity of the mobile pizza wagon that turned up in the beach car park now and again. The brewery like to boast how much it does for the community, so maybe they felt that they were doing us all a favour by stamping out these rogue, fly-by-night operations. It seems to me a shame that with all their resources they could not have thought of something new and different. It was also not all that long ago that the OS was trying to turn diners away because they were unable to cope with the volume. We shall wait with cautious optimism to see how this turns out.

By the closing time in the shop, I was a little frayed at the edges. The last rush had emptied the beer fridge in our customers’ search for anything cold and alcoholic. At least I know now in what order of preference our offerings lie. There was only a few single cans of cider, some wines and a couple of gin and tonics left. The soft drinks fridge is in a similar condition, although there was more volume there to start with. Perhaps I should consider a larger beer fridge for next year. In the meantime, however, I need only consider getting up half an hour earlier to restock it all.

It was still blazing hot and the Harbour beach full of revellers when I took ABH around the block for an after tea run around. Ideally, we would have headed for the water but there were far too many small children about to make that comfortably possible. Even at nine o’clock, out for our last run, there were families still enjoying the last of the sunshine and plenty put to watch the sunset.

Time now to recharge for it all again tomorrow. Rain coming.

July 11th - Friday

The day surpassed itself for loveliness right from the outset of the day. I suppose it rather depends on how you rate loveliness in a day because if you were not very keen on blistering heat and very little in the way of breeze, this was not your day at all.

It was very warm from the off. ABH and I laboured through it down on the Harbour beach with the sea giving off very little in the way of cooling. It looked very pretty though. Later, after my blistering session at the gymnasium, she made a bee line for the water and plonked straight in. I was very tempted to join her and probably would have done so had it not been so dreadfully wet.

It was the sort of day when everything, even ordinary tasks, required a maximum effort to achieve. Sadly, the morning was filled with things that required effort and where, whatever it was I needed, was at the back, underneath or high up. Even in the relative cool of the temporary gymnasium, the heat eventually caledl a halt to my 5,000 metre row, a 1,000 metres short. It was still a blistering session, it was just that I blistered far earlier than expected.

The Missus was in full flight when I got back. The pasty man (sorry, MS) who was a stand in and had been late all week, had arrived even later today because of the volumes he was carrying. The shop was jumping, and the Missus was trying to stuff the fridge and serve customers at the same time. I had arrived at just the right moment it had seemed.

It was still busy after I had refreshed myself and come down to let the Missus off to The Farm. In my short absence, at least two deliveries had come and gone and the store room, the one that needed to be clear for the cash and carry order, was full to the brim of cases of beer and pop. This would wait until into the afternoon when we entered the doldrums as we returned to a more usual sunny day profile of business.

The bay mirrored its performance of the previous day. Hardly a wave on the water, but plenty of people enjoying the wide open beach and the small shore break in the shallows. I learnt later that the local school had its sports day down there today that would have accounted for the large groups I saw. I noted this a couple of days ago and thought then that it was the local mob. Apparently not. My source told me that schools from further up country interlope on our beach for similar purposes. The very cheek of it.

During the quiet moments that I had the call of the store room dragged me away from any other pressing matters. Piecemeal, I managed to move the various cases of drink to the far end of the shop and some of those onto the shelves. It will be harder now to accommodate the volume of soft drinks that we need to keep onsite for the busy summer. During the week, I can combat this by daily deliveries but I still need to ramp up for the weekends. There is also the issue that the delivery comes after I have bottled up for the day, so I need to think a day in advance and guess what is going to run out in the interim.

It took all the way through to the end of the day to clear the store room floor and give it a quick sweep. We had started to see some customers come off the beach but, I guess, because it is change-over day, we did not see a major rush.

We did, however, start to see new arrivals. One of these was the advance party of a family arriving over the weekend. She told me she not came far, just over the border in Devon and some of the schools there had already broken up. This was a bit worrying as I had stayed my hand a little during the cash and carry order on the basis that we still had a week or two in hand and I could get away with a bigger order next time. We could be in a bit of trouble if visitors start arriving in numbers.

The school sports day had apparently coincided with the end of the schools day and all the children had migrated to the Harbour beach to continue their games and frolic. At the same time, a slow trickle of parents started to appear and before long, the beer fridge and the snacks shelves were emptied of their stock. Along with the cash and carry delivery tomorrow, I also have a mountain of bottling up to do. What joy.

At the last knockings, as I went around doing my orders, I noted that the drinks fridge was almost empty of big bottles of water. It had been full with the last of the stock. Tomorrow’s delivery of twelve cases of water will be timely but if this heatwave continues, will it be enough for a fortnight. Saty tuned to find out in the continuing saga of a grumpy shopkeeper and his stock of mineral water. Gad, the suspense.

July 10th - Thursday

It would be hard to imagine a more comfortable arrangement than the one we had on the Harbour beach this morning. It was the perfect mix of clear unadulterated sunshine and cool air and AHB and I revelled in it. It was not overly warm in the flat, but it was not quite as delightfully refreshing as it was on the beach. When I came down to the shop about an hour later, the sun was indeed splitting the hedges, and the heat was coming up off the pavement already.

Although I have experienced it may times over the years, the heat pouring from the Lifeboat station walls never fails to cause me great wonder. The granite acts as a huge storage heater, I suppose.

There were no big grocery orders this morning, but the day started reasonably busy and before long we started not only seeing breakfast goods go out but beach things as well. Some people seemed to enjoy getting to the beach early and for many it would be their last full day. They could have done far worse than the one they got.

I was expecting a day much in the same vein as yesterday with a long pause in the middle and bookmarked by busyness either end. What we got was busy the day long. I will have to amend my assessment of such days. It is likely that we caught a flood of going home present buyers, which is the only thing I can think of that made sense.

I had thought that I would have time to comfortably finish off the cash and carry order, but it was late in the afternoon when I finally entered the last item. I left it for the Missus to send off in the evening because there were a couple of items she wished to add. In the midst of trying to get that done I also remembered to order some crab that had been outstanding all week and placed an order for scallops that had been waiting even longer. The main reason for delaying the latter, which was deliberate, was that I wanted to call in some smoked salmon and smoked mackerel packs and was keen that they should not run out of date before we got busy.

Occasionally, I am caught out by questions about our stock that I had not previously contemplated. Most times I can bluster my way through such surprises but a lady this morning had me banged to rights. We sell walking poles or hiking sticks depending on your preference for names. It is a telescopic walking pole used by people who like to walk the Coast Path and other such public paths and presumably do a lot of it. It is a handy item apparently and used by the able bodied as well as those with some walking difficulty.

I admit that I was of the opinion that a pole was a stick was a pole. I was sure that more expensive ones are available but in truth, what additional benefit might be derived from one costing twice as much, I am at a loss to guess at. Well, I was until a lady started asked about our sticky offerings. Did they come in pairs, perchance? Were they left or right-handed? Could you pogo on it?

I am sorry to say that I was dumbfounded. These very pertinent questions (apart from the pogo one that I made up) had never occurred to me and I was woefully unprepared. I did the only thing I could which was to lie through my teeth. They were meticulously designed by experts in the field to be ambidextrous They would work very well as a pair but were also sufficiently balanced that a walker using one would not end up going in circles. The lady happily bought one.

What we also sold a lot of, to one group alone, was the remaining stock of five parasols. These are beach parasols some 180 centimetres in diameter or near six feet in imperial measurement. I am sure that the ladies appreciated this detail but insisted upon using them to parade about with on the street. They are lightweight enough, and I am sure they were effective. They might have acted as a suitable advertisement were it not for the fact that they had bought the lot.

The rest of the day, busy though it was, did not offer up any further excitement. For the first time in several days, we made a reasonable dent on the number of pasties (sorry, MS) we were keeping. Ordering anything like the correct volume all week was a trial to say the least. With no notion how sales might run today, the guess for the weekend was even more difficult. I reduced the numbers we had last week because we were hugely overstocked. By the middle of the afternoon, I was fretting that it might have been a huge mistake.

The bay had been in splendid condition all day. It was hard to ignore, and my eyes kept on being drawn to its glittering and placid waters. There were hideous numbers of small children on the beach thanks to a local school having a beach day and enrolling a small army of them into surf lessons. The only thing wrong with that was there was no surf. The sand stretched out wide and pastel coloured for acres. Up on the tide line were dozens of tents, windbreaks and parasols of the beach dweller camps.

There may have been no surf to speak of but the sea was dotted with various revellers on paddleboards, in kayaks and on foot in the shallows. My intelligence told me that the waters actually met my usual description of stepping into a warm bath – although they thought it was warmer yesterday.

Just before four o’clock, I noticed Cape Cornwall slowing disappearing. A thin cloud of mist was slowly pouring in from the northwest. Presumably a small area of cool, saturated air was rolling in, blown by a light breeze. Within an hour, we were enveloped up to the level of the cliff tops – I was told it was clear up top. The air was suddenly pleasantly cool, although we could not even see the beach at one point. Then it retreated and left us as if nothing had happened.

The sudden disappearance of the mist had put a sardine in the custard of Inshore Lifeboat planning, They had intended to use it as a navigational exercise but in the end had to pretend that they could not see where they were going. We launched both boats into the quiet seas at around quarter to six o’clock, the big boat going down south to meet up with Penlee to do some towing exercises.

I had my own planning to do for the evening courtesy of the Institutes new training regime. There is much to commend it for its orderly arrangement of units that the boat crew have to complete to stay green lighted to go on shouts. There is also the unfathomable complexity that means a unit called PPE – amongst others – must be completed for each role on the shore. For example, I must learn about PPE in my role as head launcher, winch operator and general crew despite it being identical for all three. In order to be green-lighted, I must be recorded as having completed the training over six exercises, one for each role and for low and high water launches and recoveries. It is quite exhausting and suggests that someone at head office might have too much time on their hands.

It took me almost as long as the boats were out to create a plan that would see all the crew with outstanding units catered for over the coming couple of weeks. The beach had cleared out considerably by the time the boats returned from their respective exercises at quarter to nine o’clock. I was completing one of my necessary roles on the Inshore recovery, but it was clear from where I was that we executed a textbook recovery for the big boat too up the long slip in calm conditions.

We were wrapped up on the Inshore recovery just in time to help close the station doors for the big boat. The training we do is so important. Had we not launched the Inshore boat on the Harbourt beach this evening I would never have discovered that part of the essential PPE needed amendment to include sunglasses and 50 factor sun lotion. We are, after all, a very safety conscious, very excellent Shore Crew.

July 9th - Wednesday

If you were rather keen to have an example to hand of what a glorious day looked like, you could have done worse than chosen today. Had you asked me first thing, I might have given a different answer as it was significant less than glorious then.

Being a deeply cynical grumpy shopkeeper, I viewed Radio Pasty’s assurance that the sun would split the hedges later on with a dusting of suspicion. After all, they had been consistently wrong for the last two weeks. Today, they hit gold and by the time our butcher arrived with supplies in the middle of the morning, there was blue sky elbowing its way into the cloud above us.

It did not take long after that for the sun to break through and for the day to almost aspire to rip gribbling standards, but having missed the morning, I am afraid that it fell short. Instead, we slipped into one of those days which is busy in the morning but drops dead in the afternoon as everyone settles on the beach and cannot be fagged to move. The only things that break the spell are the approach of teatime, the tide pushing them off the beach or a timely shower of rain. Happily, the time and tide conspired together to bring an end to all that slobbing around and to introduce some life back into our end of The Cove.

I had been very pressed during the early part of the morning. There was not much bottling up to do but we had some greengrocery arrive which took some time to sort out. It was as soon as I opened the first electric sliding door in The Cove that I was immediately under siege. Alright, it was not quite like that, but we had three big grocery purchases in quick succession, which started a bit of a run.

The Missus took over the baton when she came down to relieve me for gymnasium duty. Her purchases switched from grocery to beach goods and in some short order she had sold most of our displayed stock of parasols. I had sold a few beach tents before I went, and I think that she sold some too. Had this been August month, I would be in a panic that we would be running out and missing some vital sales. It is a salient lesson and hopefully just in time. I should try and second guess a day in advance.

While in the doldrums after I returned from my blistering session and a run on the beach with ABH, the shop was not completely devoid of customers. There were enough coming and going to scupper any hope of completing the cash and carry list that is now in day two of its construction. I will have to give it some serious focus tomorrow to get it done. It is an order that will lead us into the school holidays, so I need to compensate for an increase in custom – we hope. It will require some thought, sorry, some greater thought.

Come four o’clock, after a few hours of casual shopkeeping I was bowled over by a flood of customers coming off the beach. This persisted all through until closing time when, mercifully, at five minutes to closing, it all went quiet. This was despite the Harbour beach being full of diminutive revellers who are well known to have an innate sense of our closing time. They arrive in a big hurry, dripping from head to foot, to denude our shelves of pop, sweets and snacks before we close. After they have gone, I spend ten minutes mopping the floor. No, you are right, I do not. I leave it to dry in the warmth of the shop and wait a week for the seawater stains to wear off.

Some of our customers take their time perusing our shelves. I cannot blame them as we pack things in quite tightly and I am sure a professional shelf planner would have apoplexy and all the rules we break. Even we can do a circuit of the shop looking for things that need topping up and missing a few.

I am not sure however, that we have ever taken quite so long as one lady who arrived before the four o’clock rush. She was quite noticeable when she arrived due to the number of tattoos she was sporting on both arms. A while after she came in, I spotted her by the rock and postcard fudge box section and then thought no more about her as we started to get busy. It was a little while after the big rush at four o’clock that she appeared at the counter. I cannot say for sure how long she had been in the shop and my curiosity was not such that it warranted a trawl through the CCTV. I would guess she had taken the best part of 45 minutes to collect four sticks of rock, two postcard boxes of fudge and a bookmark. I can certainly say that she gave us a very fair chance of tempting her with everything else we have. She cannot have missed a thing.

When I took ABH around later, the beach was still thronging with the local mob. You certainly cannot ignore evenings like this because there are not enough of them. Later in the summer, the beach will be filled with visitors too, and perhaps not so special for the local community. There were still adult stragglers there when we headed out again in the later evening. Now that is taking full advantage, for sure.

July 8th - Tuesday

The wind was already dropping out yesterday evening and by this morning, it was just about gone altogether. There was a bit of tide on the beach this morning and an awful lot of weed but only on the eastern side of the Harbour. We were clearly not in the mood to hang about and returned to get the outside display arranged at the shop before going back upstairs again.

It took half the day before the sun we were promised made an appearance and a bit longer than that before we saw any customers in numbers. We dribbled through the morning with sporadic visits and the occasional flurry, which was hardly inspiring.

Not wishing to idle my time away, I wandered the shop looking for things running out and shelf spaces to fill. It resulted in a re-order of the popular soap from a St Ives based soap company and filling up the mood rings which are perennial best sellers, or used to be. The rings used to come with a little card showing a key of the colours and the ‘moods’ represented by each.

For the last couple of years, the rings have come without the card, which is a bit useless. At the trade show this year I found an alternative supplier and the cards are back again. We have seen sales dip through that period, but I am not sure that it had anything to do with the cards - it is not apparent that they are available until you get to the till. Since we have sold them for 20 years, perhaps we have reached the end of their popularity.

After such an interesting interlude, I proceeded to start the cash and carry order. It is a bit early but always good to get ahead of the posse. I can always go back and amend numbers if I find that we have sold an abundance of something subsequent to me ordering for it or not. Fortunately, it got a little busier shortly into the afternoon because I was struggling to contain my excitement.

Dealing with customers is far more interesting. Each interaction is unique, some fun some perhaps not so much but each one is precious in its own way. Sometimes it is things customers do that creates a memorable moment and sometimes something we do, like the minimum card payment.

We do not get much push back for having a minimum charge on a payment card; the amount is not onerous, and we are very flexible on the limit. Mostly people will just purchase an additional item or miraculously find they had some cash after all. Occasionally we reach an impasse with a customer who does not want to purchase something else to nudge the total over the minimum and there are a few moments of fixed eye contact where the customer realises that I am not about to cave in on the issue. We have yet to fall out with a customer over it – although we did have an object thrown at us once during the Battle of the Dreaded Lurgi in ’21 but that was wartime and does not count.

People have many reasons not to carry cash, not least that so many shops where they come from will not take it. One of the most perplexing reasons comes from walkers who do not want to carry cash because of the weight. I find this incredible. One such gentleman arrived today and was utterly determined that he should not bear the additional weight of £3.90 he would have received in change for the bottle of water he wished to purchase. He spent ten minutes searching for something to bring the purchase above the card minimum. He chose a couple of energy bars which he tucked into his pack for later.

I reasoned that in the worst case you would only need to carry £4.90 in change if you avoided it accumulating. After the gentleman left, out of curiosity, I weighed £4.90 on our scales. It is roughly 50 grams or a little ways under two ounces. It did not seem a burden worth the worry, and I doubt that he would have even noticed.

Oh, the weight of two energy bars – 90 grams.

We had the farm shop cash and carry delivery in the middle of the afternoon. It would have been handy a couple of hours earlier when I had nothing to do. Nevertheless, I managed to clear it all between customers and get much of it out on the shelves. It is convenient that I can clear the cardboard away too as the collection is tomorrow morning and I will need the space for the main cash and carry delivery at the weekend.

We had a proper five minutes to closing rush today. Right at the last knockings an America visitor from America with his family bounded into the shop. His only purpose was to enquire where I might recommend that they eat. As he rightly pointed out later, it was a very costly question because before they left ten minutes later, they had spent a goo deal of money – I had not even charged them reciprocal tariffs.

From his forthright and commanding manner, I was guessing that the family were not from not so frozen Vermont, very far west of Camborne. I had bare had time to answer the question about eating when I was asked another about maps of the Coast Path that they were following. As I tried to answer that one, I was asked another about how we must be deluged with American tourists. We see Americans from time to time, but the numbers are outweighed by Europeans and, I omitted to say on grounds of sensitivity, Canadians.

I would have loved to ask where in America they had come from and what had prompted a walk of the Coast Path as opposed to say, a visit to Buckingham Palace. I would have loved to ask many questions, but I was struggling to answer all the ones coming my way, so quickly upon each other they were. I felt somewhat exhausted when they left.

The sun had ceased shining when, much revived, I took ABH around the block later. It was a little later than usual due to a very important Lifeboat Operations team meeting. We manage to conclude these meeting in well under an hour, which is remarkable given how very important they are. The Missus has much more important very important meetings at the Management Team, which go on for hours.

We met a miniature ABH in the Harbour car park, the same breed mix and very small. The two of them got on like best pals and we each learnt that the two share similar character traits. I was only mentioning rent-a-friend yesterday and this one would have done nicely in a few months.

July 7th - Monday

It might have been yesterday morning that I woke with a song in my head. It stayed with me the whole day and usually, playing the song will sort it out. I tried to do that last night, but finding the right recording eluded me.

The song is This is my Lovely Day, written by Vivian Ellis and AP Herbert – no, me neither – for the musical Bless the Bride. The only recording I had heard was a duet that I vaguely remembered and this morning, I found it on the Internet. It is sung by Lizbeth Webb and Georges Guétary in 1947. He was French and sings the song in a very clipped English accent, prevalent at the time in movies and the like but sounds quite archaic now.

I only ever recall the first verse which has a lovely sentiment and remember it for that reason. I looked up the rest of the lyrics this morning and rather wish that I had not. Things got a little dark after that, ‘sad and sighing, old and dying’, which took the edge off a bit.

It is a song about a couple on their wedding day. Their expectations are that married life will be so unspeakably dreadful that they envisage being on their death beds remembering their wedding day to be the only one they took any joy from it.

Where I heard it first, I cannot say. It is possible that the Aged Parent sang it to me in the cradle, the first verse to sooth me and the remaining ones to warn me life was significant less than a bed of roses when I got out of it. Ever practical was the Aged Parent.

Well, I do not know if that did anything for you, dear reader, but I feel much better for getting that off my chest. Now, where was I?

Ah yes. I was nearly blown backwards through the front door when I opened it this morning. It was not that severe as winds go but it was in our face, directly from the north and thirty miles per hour. That is the sort of wake up that can seriously upset a person’s day if he is not careful. Fortunately, I am made of sterner stuff – yes, I am - and we battled our way off to the Harbour beach.

The wind did not seem too bad down there, but the morning required a hooded sweatshirt and a woolly hat. We did not tarry and went back up to the shop to set out the outside display and fetch the recycling from the back of the building. I put it in the shelter beside the wheelie bin that I had to strap down on our way out and went back into the shop. There was a bit of a crash while I was struggling with the weighty windbreak stand and when I got outside, the plastic and metals bag had fallen over.

The bag is at least fifteen years old, although it has only been used in anger for a year. I noticed that the cover flap had a hole in it a few weeks ago and since then it had just got bigger. I reasoned, until today, that it did not matter very much but since everything fell out of the hole when it fell over, I will indent the much maligned council for a new one.

I had to wake myself up this morning and consequently was later than I would have been had ABH been working properly. Perversely, this meant that I was downstairs earlier than I would have been had I been woken sooner.

This suited me just fine as there were still wetsuits and wetshoes that needed stripping of their packaging and putting out in the shop. It was the remnants of the list I had called in from The Farm, topping up our beachware gaps in the shop. I mentioned a day or so ago, that it was best we prepare early in case we find there are missing things that we need to order in.

In truth, I had not expected there to be any shortfalls, so when the Missus told me we were out of four sizes in shoes, I was most surprised. I had counted these myself at the end of last season, so I knew the starting point was true and, if sales were roughly no better than last year, we should have had enough for the season. I could imagine, perhaps, a rush on one of the sizes and running low on stock, but not all four of them together.

I asked her to check but if she comes back with the same result I will have to place an order, which will be irritating because we just had a delivery from the company and I had to order more than I truly needed to escape carriage charges.

It took me into the afternoon to finish the last of the wetsuits. The gymnasium and a blistering session intervened and another walk on the Harbour beach. I felt very sorry for ABH. We were down there on our own to start with and not long later, another two dogs arrived both about the right size and age to give her a bit of a run and a chase. Despite the fact that she stood off a little way and did not engage in her normal mad barking at them, both studiously ignored her. If that were not bad enough, a third dog came down that she gazed at hopefully, but that one stayed on the lead and would be no help at all. It is a shame that there is not a rent-a-friend service in The Cove.

We were neither particularly busy nor very quiet. There were moments, although precious few, that I was dashing about making sure we had sufficient pasties (sorry, MS) lined up. There were also extended periods of desperation during one of which I managed to order the shoes that the Missus confirmed were indeed missing. We had either sold them and I had not noticed, or we have mammoth rats running about in size 3 to size 6 wetshoes.

We do have rats up at The Farm, but we have no evidence that they have breached the inner sanctum. There is nothing really in there that they would be much interested in, and we will endeavour to keep it that way.

The afternoon passed in a very sedate manner with little interest in it. I kept busy with things I now cannot recall but I am sure that they were very useful things. The Missus was late returning and therefore so was tea. ABH and I took our after tea walk late in the evening and combined it with the last of the day. We walked around the block and through the Harbour car park where the sun had decided to break through and blind us. It was not very busy there and we were alone along the back nine down Coastguard Row.

We are told to expect better weather. In fact, many people during the day, noticing my usual expression that they took for desolation, assured me that the forthcoming days would be filled with sunshine and loveliness. Of course, they will be. Every day down here is like that. It makes me think of a song I once heard.

This is my Lovely Day. (Ellis and Herbert.)

This is my lovely day

This is the day I shall remember the day I'm dying

They can't take this away

It will be always mine, the sun and the wine

The sea birds crying

All happiness must pay

And who can tell if fate means well

Or the sky is lying

But look at me and say

You will remember too that this was our lovely day

This is our lovely day

This is the day I shall remember the day I am dying

They can't take this away

It will be always mine, the sun and the wine

The sea birds crying

All happiness must pay

And if our ship goes down

She'll go with the flag still flying

But look at me and say

You will remember too that this was our lovely day

I'll remember, I'll remember

When the time has come for happiness to pay

Sad and sighing, old and dying

I'll remember how we loved our lovely day

Our lovely day

July 6th - Sunday

There was still some drizzle about first thing in the morning, which was very early again. I had the impression that it had come and gone all night. We got a little damp, mainly because ABH fancied an extended trip around the block and dragged her paws every step of the way.

During the day, the weather did try so very hard to improve. It remained dry but despite the best efforts of the forecasters insisting we would have sunny spells throughout the afternoon, the cloud stalwartly remained in place. The whole ensemble came with a punchy but relatively mild northerly breeze that kept any temperature increase at bay.

The less than perfect weather was not going to deter a bunch of visitors who had presumably spent the day yesterday cooped up indoors or in their cars getting here. It would have been difficult to see a drop in customers from yesterday, but the improved weather saw us reasonable busy from the middle of the morning onwards and sometimes very busy during the middle of the afternoon.

There was an interesting mix of stayers and trippers. You can generally tell from the sorts of things they are buying. One thing I shall have to look at squeezing onto our shelves is some sort of stain remover. I am guessing that this is the product of panicked holiday let guests trying to cover up some sort of spill or other. One of the main products we are asked for is Vanish. It is a difficult one because I believe it comes in various forms such as a spray or something you add to a wash. I was asked for it today and I told the customer we did have some but, strangely, I could no longer find it.

Another product to conjure with is Daktarin, which is some sort of ointment. We do not do that either, but the mere mention of it transports me back to my childhood. It make me feel old if I could give a care about such things. There was a television programme called Daktari, featuring a cross-eye lion called Clarence and a cheeky chimpanzee named Judy. All television programmes that vaguely concerned Africa had to have a cheeky chimpanzee in them. I recall at the tender age of six or seven years old I had a rather soft spot for Cheryl Miller who played Paula, the veterinarian’s daughter. She is 82 now and never writes. I do not think there was any coming back from that and the ensuing years could only ever be a bitter disappointment … ahem, until I met the Missus, of course. Phew. Do you think it is too late to talk about the chimp?

Earlier in the year there had been a little excitement that a book chronicling the journey a couple made on the South West Coast Path around Cornwall was being made into a film. There was the supposition that the popular book and now a film would draw visitors, at least to the places shown in the movie. It then transpired that the locations used were mainly in Kent or some far flung place east of Camborne and that there would be no ensuing bounty.

I had read the book which was entertaining but it had not inspired me to seek out the film to watch, especially as the locations were not local. I also recall that I had been left with a feeling of doubt along the lines of, methinks the lady doth protest too much. Anyway, I thought no more about it but it appears that I was not alone and an investigative journalist from the Observer did think more about it and dug a little deeper. According to his research, there is quite a bit of, erm, inventiveness within the tale and a fair bit of skulduggery behind it to boot. The journalist even questioned the veracity of the claim that the chap in the book was very ill. The experts he spoke with suggested it was highly unlikely.

The Diary, nor I, make no such claims, and merely report what was in the Observer newspaper. If it is to be believed, and the investigation seemed thorough enough, the authoress is quite a piece of work. What is certain, however, is that seeing any sort of increase in business on the back of the film was unlikely in the first place and now the chances are even more remote.

Thew group of limping young men that I met this morning soon after the shop opened were clearly not influenced by the book. They had used the Coast Path but only as part of the local Rat Run that happened yesterday. I discovered this when I asked if they had all played a game of nocturnal rugby to get into such a state. I had quite forgotten about it, which is probably no surprise as I did not see them charging through The Cove as they have done for years. They told me that inexplicably, the route had been changed this year to run up the cliff at Gwenver – a trial all by itself for mere mortals – and followed a different route to Land’s End.

They all seemed jolly fellows, indulging in snacks, energy drinks and paracetamol. I am not sure that I would engage in any pastime that left me limping for days afterwards and requiring copious quantities of painkillers. Mind, drinking heavily and galivanting was not always risk free.

At one point in the blustery afternoon, the skies to the east opened to allow a glimpse of blue just so that we could be reminded of what it looked like. Shortly after that we enjoyed a short collection of light showers just as I sought to bring in the outside display. I think it would be very tedious if I were to mention just how divorced from any forecast I had seen this was. Oh, I just mentioned it. Sorry.

At least ABH and I remained dry when we walked around the block after tea. I did need a jacket, though, for the first time in a week. I consoled myself with gazing at the abundance of wildflowers now in full bloom – some going over, now – such as the mayweed and the invasive rape. We should really do something about all the flowers that have sprouted against the back door, and I note a rather large tree mallow has appeared out of nowhere. It is playing havoc with filling the recycling bags, which has just reminded me that I need to put them out for the morning.

July 5th - Saturday

I am beginning to wonder if the Inshore boat naming ceremony is doomed or cursed in some way. Who have we upset, we should be asking. On the way back from the shout on Thursday, it broke down. The Institute sent a special team to organise the event and put them up in the Land’s End Hotel. This went on fire last night and they were turfed out of their rooms at two o’clock in the morning. The weather, though not as severe as promised – of course, it was not – was poor enough and the sea state meant that the Inshore’s inaugural wetting was short-lived.

Later in the morning, I spoke with the Institute’s two unfortunate hotel guests. They told me that it looked worse than it was. It seemed an outbuilding, like a bin store attached to the main building, caught alight. It may have been fortunate for the other guests that they were staying there. One of them told me there did not appear to be any staff present and it was our Institute man who called it in.

The St Just volunteer fire brigade were there in short order to sort it out. Another lady who was due to stay there tonight as well asked if we knew of other accommodation in the area just in case they were prevented from returning tonight. She told me that the hotel said that it would let her know but by the middle of the day, she had not heard and was looking for options.

We had started the day with what turned out to be the best of the weather. It was overcast, grey and cool but mercifully dry and we enjoyed a brief romp on the beach, ABH and me. It stayed much the same for a good part of the morning, but I fear that the forecast had driven anyone leaving off early and we were deathly quiet. Business did not improve at all from there and when the rain, such as it was, arrived I pretty much wrote off the remainder of the day. I have already harped on enough about the wide gulf between what the forecast would have us believe and what actually arrived, so I will leave that alone while I simmer gently under the surface. What we had was mist and the occasional waves of mizzle that passed through The Cove.

The few customers we did have during the day made a good fist of making me feel better about it. We sold some of our posh mugs, which make the sales figures look much better than they would with just general sales. The trade, however, left me with long periods of quietness which would have bored me senseless had I not chosen to fill them with shelf filling and list making.

The shelf filling made it abundantly clear that I will have to do much better with my cash and carry ordering next week. Many things are running out and the over-stock is getting worryingly slim. If I do the same next week, we will run out in the first week and have empty shelves by the second. The lists concerned the things that we needed to bring down from The Farm ahead of the hordes turning up for the school holidays. It is early yet but it is best to be prepared. It will also highlight anything that is missing while we still have time to do something about it.

If the day was not good for shopkeeping, it was not that much better for Inshore Lifeboat naming, either. The Missus had convinced me that I should make the effort to attend and so I ran over to the Lifeboat station at one of the quiet times in the morning to collect my regulation shirt and tie. I had thought to wear my little boy trousers because I have black dress trousers and only possess brown shoes. Later, I was to discover that wearing brown shoes with dark trousers seems to be in vogue. It is many years and probably not even then that I last wore anything fashionable. It was probably a good enough reason not to start now.

The Missus covered my absence from the shop and we gathered at the Lifeboat station car park just before two o’clock to have our pictures taken in our smart shirts and ties. We then repaired to the crew room where we were briefed about the course of events that would ensue at three o’clock when the ceremony started. It was probably all very interesting if I could have heard a word of it. I also found that I heard as much of the ceremony as I had heard of the briefing, although the singing was very good from the St Buryan Male Voice Choir.

One thing that we resolved was the odd name chosen for the boat, Arangy. It is an arrangement of the benefactors’ initials, R and G.

The gig was supposed to be held on the Harbour beach originally. It was a tad perplexing because it was high water at the time. It was a neap tide but even so, the waves were quite high up the beach. What really kicked it into touch was that the sea had become quite feisty with the change in the weather and the waves were banging up the beach even further. It was something of a surprise that we managed to launch the Inshore boat after it was all over.

I had made my excuses and left when the last of the ceremony was over and before the launch. We have people for such things. I returned to the shop that was still quiet at the time but as the late afternoon wore on, we began to see some news arrivals, erm, arrive. I think that it was the busiest that we had been all day and although it was not properly busy, it was better than a poke in the eye.

When it came to pulling in the outside display, the small gods of grumpy shopkeepers decided that it would be a jolly wheeze to send the only shower of rain that we had all day. Thank you for that.

As that were not punishment enough, just as I sat down to tea, my pager went off. The big boat was required to stand off and support the Cliff Team in an incident on the cliffs at Land’s End. The majority of the crew were at the OS, wetting the new boat’s sponsons, and were at hand for the shout – some of them even capable of running to the station. Fortunately, it was still early in the evening.

It was one of those calls that could have been resolved immediately or could have lasted all night. Fortunately, we were called back to service while I was completing the service record book less than an hour after being called out. We rapidly deployed on the long slip and by this time had sufficient crew to man the Inshore recovery as well. The boat was only around the corner, so it was back as we were arranging the cable and the span on the concrete toe. By the time the boat came back on the slip, we were ready to execute a textbook recovery up the long slip at low water in choppy conditions. We are, after all, a very vigilant, very excellent Shore Crew.

July 4th - Friday

Gosh, I was sorely pressed this morning. I really should not have been since I was up at five o’clock. There was nothing voluntary about such an early hour, but I decided to use it to my advantage and get ahead of the posse. So, would someone please enlighten me how it was I was standing there at ten minutes to opening with still a pile of things to do.

It did not help that the newspapers were late, and three customers fell in when I opened the first electric sliding door in The Cove to see where they were. Adding to that, the milk turned up when I had a shop full of customers and then the pasties (sorry, MS) turned up when I had a few more. It was still a bit like that when the Missus turned up to let me go to the gymnasium with the beer fridge still to top up. I was happy to make a break for it.

There were a few people down on the Harbour beach when we headed that way after my blistering session. The sun was out, and it was warm. There was still a little power in the waves and the little girl was not keen to step in. In fact, she did not seem very keen on anything very much, electing to stay in the flat instead of coming down to the shop and then, when we got to the beach, hardly bothering to amble across it. Most dogs I have seen hit the beach cannot wait to belt across the wide open space or plunge carelessly into the briny. ABH really cannot be fagged with any of that. Perhaps she identifies as a cat or something.

I was surprised late in the afternoon to receive a message from the much maligned council. Back at the start of May, I had neglected to place sufficient funds in my current account to cover the council tax charge. Noticing my faux pas almost immediately, I paid the correct amount by debit card through the much maligned council’s portal. Shortly after, I received the much maligned council’s standard missed payment notice telling me that they would collect double the amount the following month.

Anxious to head that off at the pass, I sent message using the online form to explain that I had already paid and would appreciate it if the did not take it again. The automated reply told me that they were very busy at the moment with an unusually high level of messages and that they would endeavour to reply within ten working days.

Having received no reply within the stated period and realising that the day of the double payment was hard upon us I sought to contact the department by telephone. While I was searching for the accounts department’s well hidden telephone number, I noticed a notice that told me if I had not had a response to my query inside the ten working days, I should not seek to enquire about the lack of response for a further 28 days. So, I was a bit snookered.

I carefully watched my bank account at the appointed time for payment and, happily, only one payment was taken for the June period. I had not received a response, but I had a receipt for my payment, and all was well with the world. Not having a reply now was purely academic, so I forgot all about it … until today.

Had the letter acknowledged that the lateness of the response had rendered it pointless, I would have understood. As it was, the letter told me that my debit card payment had been received, which I knew and had a receipt; that the double payment would not happen, which I knew because it did not happen; that a future payment of the required amount would be made each month until the end of the financial year, which I rather thought that it might. What is more worrying is that someone in the much maligned council accounts team had thought it worth their time at my expense to write a totally meaningless letter to me. Fortunately, I have a better sense of the value of my time and did not think it worth it to formulate a response to point this out.

We had quite a busy day. It followed the tradition of change-over days, and we saw the leaving contingent in numbers buying looking after the cat/garden/small child chained to the radiator gifts and cold pasties for consumption later. I was rather pleased about the latter because my pasty order pays not heed to the forecasters’ guess about the weekend weather and I had ordered quite a lot. As the weekend draws closer, it would appear that the Saturday at least, may be somewhat inclement and not the sort of day that we might sell pasties in abundance.

There is, of course, the Inshore naming ceremony to consider. This will bring a large number of people to The Cove to see some lengthy speeches said over the boat and a couple of vicars splashing it with holy water – or is that just the left footers. I had not intended to be present at the event, having pasties to sell and all that, but the Missus suggested that it would be unseemly for the Head Launcher not to be there and all other resistance was useless.

The later afternoon saw the arrival of the new visitors who may be with us for a week or maybe two. There are new newspaper orders to record and try and remember and mainly groceries to sell for those who have not relied upon a Tesmorburys delivery. Or, indeed, those who have relied upon a Tesmorburys delivery and found it wanting in some areas. I thought that we had seen another premature five minutes to closing rush from roughly before five o’clock, which petered out at quarter past. I took the opportunity in the quietness to start the end of day orders and was thus engaged when I was bowled over by a resurgence of customer visits at close on half past five o’clock. This continued until closing time when I was stopped halfway through closing the first electric sliding door by a gentleman requiring drinks to go with his fish and chips.

I then spent twenty minutes concluding the orders I had started nearly an hour earlier. What took the time was the order for Cornish biscuits and fudge. The company has an online ordering facility, which is most useful unless something is missing from the list that I know that they supply. In this instance, I need to delete all that I have already ordered and place the order by telephone taking care to look up the product codes for those items that could be mistaken for similar ones.

As I did my rounds, I noticed that the postcard fudge box shelf was nearly empty again. I made the same note at the same time yesterday and by the morning had forgotten all about having to restock. Fortunately, the other reader reminded me, which was just as well because we sold nearly all of it again. I also need to remember to order some more.

I was quite grateful to collapse in a chair after I retired to enjoy some haddock from our freezer that is now happily freezing things again. Half an hour of that and I was up again taking ABH around the block in what we have been warned was the last pleasant and warm evening for a day or two. It was indeed pleasant and warm. I shall hold onto that during the dire and cataclysmic storms the forecasters warn us are on the way – I think they just mean a bit of rain, but that is not exciting enough and does not incite our campers to uproot and leave for home a few days early as one lady told me they were doing. Grrr.

July 3rd - Thursday

We were blessed with another day of blistering sunshine. Gad, the heat, the flies. Even setting out the display at the front of the shop put in the morning should have required a parasol if I were to respect the rules of health and safety. No wonder vampires avoid direct sunlight; it was quite uncomfortable when you are unused to it.

It did not seem to bother our customers who arrived in numbers during the early part of the morning again. Actually, they were later than yesterday which gave me sufficient time to make a cobbled together ham salad roll using some of our own lettuce. The difference in taste between ours and even the local lettuce supplied from our usual deliveries is marked.

Thus fortified, I set to on the duties of the day. One of the first was to recover our pasty position (sorry, MS) after my error of judgement yesterday, not ordering any. We had no frozen cooked pasties, so I fell back on the frozen uncooked we already had in the freezer and baked a dozen. Despite being the baker, there were still only twelve. As we arrived near the end of the day, I was able to congratulate myself. We had cleared the backlog and sold the newly baked pasties leaving us clear for the big weekend delivery tomorrow, which was exactly how I planned it, ahem. We do love it when a plan comes together.

It was when the Missus came down and I was particularly busy with a minor rush that she noticed that the store room upright freezer door was not closed properly. I must have inadvertently closed it on a plastic bag hanging down from the top. We were lucky that the contents had not thawed, but it was heading that way. She then noticed that having removed the offending plastic, the door still did not ‘suck’ closed. Fearing that the freezer itself had gone faulty, she hurriedly moved the entire contents which was not inconsiderable.

The freezer is now the oldest refrigeration unit we have in the shop and predates us. I took the view that I would immediately look for a replacement being so close to our busy period. When I went back to measure its dimensions, I noticed that it was starting to cool again, so decided to keep and eye on it and make a decision about a new one a bit later. A few hours later it was back to operating temperature and the Missus will refill it when I am at the gymnasium tomorrow – or if she is busy, when I come back.

Disaster averted, I returned to the jobs at hand. We had delivered yesterday some new and alluring beach towels that I was keen to get out on display. This meant grabbing a handy shoehorn and crowbar to wedge them into the already crowded shop shelves. Since they would have to go close to the other towels we have, I had to move things about. Some of that had to wait until I had some quiet moments and the whole task took more than an hour of elapsed time to complete.

I recall being busy doing things for most of the day ending up with quite a bit of cardboard in the store room in the process but when I looked back, I was darned if I could remember all the things that I had done. I know that all of it was done piecemeal as we were quite busy, largely with going home present buying – I must remember to top up the postcard fudge boxes in the morning because we sold many of those. The aloe vera plants that we seem to have an inexhaustible supply of, continue to be one of our best sellers. I do not have to water them now as they are not in the shop long enough. I am beginning to wonder if we need to move into horticulture as it seems to be doing better than beachware.

I think that I may still have been mucking about with beach towels when my pager went off at half past four in the afternoon. Fortunately, we just had the one customer in the shop at the time, who very kindly evacuated the shop quickly when asked. I told him that I hoped to be back in half an hour, but this turned out to be overly optimistic.

We always try and respond to calls as quickly as possible but, on occasion, some calls are more urgent than others and this was one of them.

Initially, there was just me on the shore and the priority was to get the Inshore boat launched, despite both boats being requested. As I drove the Tooltrak down to the car park barrier, another of the very excellent Shore Crew turned up and between us we launched the Inshore and the returned to launch the big boat where a couple more of us had arrived.

The boats were tasked to an incident at Pednvounder by Porthcurno. The Lifeguards and Cliff Team were also sent along, and we waited at the station to monitor progress. It was an extended operation for which the big boat acted as a communications hub as, ironically, Porthcurno with all its global communications history, is a black spot for modern wireless interaction.

The boats returned to the bay some two hours later. I had not returned to the shop as the call had been one of those that could have ended at any time and there was much going on to coordinate. We had set up the long slip almost immediately after the boat had been launch certain in the knowledge that the kit would not be overwhelmed as the tide as still going out at the time. When we returned to the bottom of the slipway two hours later, the tide was coming in and the cable we had dragged down was in the perfect position.

We had by this time accumulated sufficient numbers on the shore, bolstered by spare Boat Crew, to cover recovery of both boats simultaneously. I took charge on the slipway for the big boat and two of us went down to the slipway toe ahead of the boat’s arrival. I find it immensely peaceful at the bottom of the slip on days such as today. The sounds that fill the street and the beach only yards away, seem distant and with the lapping of the water on the toe, it is a place of calm and tranquillity. Then the boat arrives. With the cable in the perfect position, this was a masterclass textbook recovery up the long slip in calm condition. Take up of the cable was immediate and the boat was secured on the cradle, washed down and refuelled for its next launch in no time. We are, after all, a very flexible, very excellent Shore Crew.

We had to wait for an additional time at the bottom of the slip because the Inshore boat broke down on its way back and had to be mended by the big boat mechanic. This does not bode well for its inauguration ceremony on Saturday. I am sure there will be much effort to make it all fixed by then.

I returned to the shop long after closing. The Missus had arrived before me and had finished off the closing including doing the newspapers and pulling in the outside display. The only thing I needed to do was to finish off the ordering and retired to my tea. It had been very quiet when I hurriedly shut the shop, so I hope that we did not inconvenience too many people by closing an hour and a half early. That will teach the five minutes to closing rush contingent.

July 2nd - Wednesday

Golly G Willikins. Sunshine!

The cloud was breaking up above us when ABH and I ventured out to the Harbour beach first thing. The sun was trying hard to break through some thicker cloud out to the east. The air was pleasantly cool but when the sun burst through as we crossed the beach, the warmth on our backs was immediate.

The sunshine improved our busyness for the day which started as it has done all week with a bit of a morning rush. I had arranged to meet our posh mug salesman – he is from The North and not at all posh, but his mugs are very posh and also from The North. I thought that I had better clear that up. I arranged to meet him early doors as I thought we might be quieter, but he was a little late, which did not help. His arrival conflicted with the milk and pasty (sorry, MS) deliveries, which I had to clear first, and the early rush of customers seemed to go on longer than usual.

I had already prepared an order but it always good to get his perspective on which designs are hot and which are not. For example, he showed me a new design shape that was quite alluring, and we will try them in a couple of attractive designs. The salesman had sent ahead some brochures which has shown another new design. It was a mug of gigantic proportions – in relation to other mugs – and I was keen to see how it compared. Unfortunately, he had left the sample in the car but showed it to me on his way out a little later. It had been requested by the German market, presumably by Bavarian bier kellers to replace steins. When I saw it later, it looked deceptively smaller than I imagined. We postulated, however, at what point down the mug would your tea get cold.

Our busyness was up and down during the morning, busier than the last few days but not remarkable. I made the decision around the middle of the day not to order any pasties for tomorrow. We had been accumulating over the last few days and I was keen to avoid having to freeze any. I could have laid bets that from the moment the deadline passed, we would see a pasty fest like no other – and so it was.

I had hedged my bets a little by ordering a case of frozen Cornish and cheese pasties that I could fall back on should the need arise. I felt slight less exposed knowing I would have some pasties should it all go sadly wrong, which it rapidly did. In the end, I had to call a halt on bringing more pasties out but as luck would have it, demand fell away before I ran out.

The bit of my rear end that I had not covered were the cakes and scones, of which I felt that I had an abundance. Our visitors, clearly aware of this Achilles heel, went for it hammer and tong. I spent the afternoon selling scones, fruit cake, lemon sensation cake and hevva buns and cakes. Someone must have blabbed, I feel.

We also sold some posh mugs, which was quite comforting. As we approached the middle of the day, we started to get busier in a consistent sort of way selling all manner of goodies and not just beachware, which I thought might have been on the cards today, given the sunshine. I was quite grateful, therefore, that one of the very excellent Shore Crew said that he would stand in for me at the planned launch of the Lifeboat at one o’clock.

The boat has a three-yearly survey to make sure that it everything is working properly and that it does not have any holes in the bottom. The original plan was for the boat to be out for three hours and I had tentatively planned around closing the shop for 45 minutes at around four o’clock. I had also told the crew that due to the length of the boat’s absence, I would launch it with one other from who lives in The Cove. That way, those who live a little further off would not needed to venture in twice or hang about for three hours.

It did not quite work out that way and in the event, the recovery was rescheduled for quarter past three o’clock. I arrange for the rest of the crew, which turned out to be one other and myself to muster half and hour previous to that to set up the long slip, which by then would be very long as the tide would only be an hour off low water. When I went across at the appointed time, the slip was already set up, which bemused me, so I geared up so that I would not have to do so late and returned to the shop to await the boat’s return.

I did not have to wait long as the boat came back into the bay at roughly on time. We had what might be considered as a comfortable minimum crew but, as also might now be expected, we executed a textbook recovery in benign conditions in the blazing heat of the day. With a tightly managed washdown and resecuring in the boathouse, we wrapped up for another end to another launch and recovery. We are, after all, a very compact, very excellent Shore Crew.

Returning to open the shop, in very short order I was met with a renewed flood of customers, which was very gratifying. This continued for most of the rest of the afternoon and purchases moved smoothly from gifts to evening meals as we neared closing. Much of the food currently is from our premium ranges, which includes many of the local products that are naturally more expensive than the mass produced items. We would expect to see this change when the schools break up and our next cash and carry order will have to contain more over-stock. We have also sold much more fish than I anticipated and will have to carefully consider when and how much to re-order in the next two weeks.

I managed to close the shop and retire without having to fight off late shoppers in a five minutes to closing rush. Instead, I had to expend additional time placing orders with regular suppliers. One of these has moved to using an online order facility. Unfortunately, they do not always have what I need to order on the list. I spent unnecessary time searching for a local premium chocolate that was not there. I only discovered it was not there after I had ordered everything else. I will need now to call in the morning and get it delivered separately, which is a pain in the neck for both parties.

Conversely, it was most comfortable taking ABH around the block in the early evening sunshine. I had noted the previous time that the sun, even at that time in the evening was particularly warm and was grateful that I had elected not to wear a jacket. While the Harbour car park was busy with parked vehicles, there were very few people to chat to on out way around. At least with the Missus off to take Mother home, I was not dragged the back nine along Coastguard Row. She did have a full on sulk when we got back, though, until the Missus got home. It means I am not plagued for a game and can read my book peacefully. There are up sides, after all.

July 1st - Tuesday

It was reasonable cool when I eventually persuaded ABH to come for a walk with me. I had already been down to set up the shop because I could not get her to stir from the bed. She spent an extended time sniffing about at the top of the beach because the tide is not reaching there now and people had been there in abundance last night and had left behind all manner of smells, no doubt.

The mist was still hanging about from the previous evening and night. This morning it was the kind that drifts slowly on the surface of the water making it look like the sea is gently simmering away. Later, it retreated to the cliffs and hung about there in layers until the middle of the morning. It still left us with a layer of cloud and a thin mist right across the bay. Earlier, there were some patches of blue skies and high level cloud as if to say, see what you could have won in true Bullseye style.

I have given up with Radio Pasty’s increasingly desperate forecasts for sunny days in The Cove. Even the Meteorological Office had rolled over and promised some dark grey clouds, generally meaning mist in these parts, although they did change it halfway through the day to make it look a little more like what we were actually getting. Today, we had some mizzle blow through The Cove in the middle of the day sending people scurrying for cover.

We were again very quiet for much of the day with fewer notable exceptions than the day before. I have to assume that it is the weather to blame and the heat and humidity creating an atmosphere of sloth. It gave me the opportunity to partake in the excitement and jollity of counting my newspaper tokens. I try to do them every six weeks just to keep on top of them. Obviously, the urge to do them more frequently is hard to resist but somehow, I manage.

It is interesting how things have changed over the years. Once, the tokens would have been almost exclusively Telegraph ones but more recently they have been pushed into almost obscurity by tokens from The Times and Guardian newspapers. I do not know what we can learn from our little sample, but we do get a wide cross-section of visitors here through the year. If it is representative of the country, I would say that The Telegraph is in a bit of trouble.

Regarding my broken false ear: I am sure you will be delighted to know, dear reader, that the person in the higher echelons of the NHS to whose mercy I threw myself on in the form of a message this morning, responded quickly to my plight. She forwarded my detailed complaint to the management of the company that runs the shop in Penzance with her not inconsiderable weight behind it. I await their response, but I have the notion that things might move quite quickly. Sadly, it is unlikely to be quickly enough for me to have a working ear ’ole before the fight starts in a couple of weeks. Provided the remaining false ear continues to operate, I will at least be better off than last year.

In the doldrums during the afternoon, I was suddenly inspired to actually do some work. There were a couple of beachware items from a current supplier that I was keen to try, so I telephoned the company to order some. While looking for somewhere to put those items when they arrived, I noticed that our local interest books were looking a little thin on the bookshelf and we were short of maps. I managed to place an order for those, too.

There were some books in the store room, including The Almost Serious Guide to Sennen Cove the sales of which had recently revived after moving it to a different location on the shelf. I put some more of these out in the shop. A few days earlier, I had conducted a count of the posh Dunoon mugs ahead of a visit by the salesman tomorrow. This had unearthed a few forgotten items that I now also put out.

It had only just dawned on me that the school holidays are at hand and that I ought to pull my finger out and prepare the shop for the onslaught. I will commission the Missus, between cutting leaves of lettuce, the venture into the store for things we are missing in the shop. She had a big important Lifeboat events meeting in the evening for which she had spent the previous evening preparing. I thought it best to wait until that was over before troubling her further – more in the interests of my own health than in consideration of her busyness.

While she was at the meeting, I tried to placate ABH who was distraught. If the Missus is away shopping or on some errand far away, ABH merely sulks. If the Missus is somewhere close at hand, then ABH is strung out like a wire in tension. When I took her for an after tea stroll, she pulled me towards the Lifeboat station door. She allowed me to take her to the beach for a cursory run, but after, she was up the slipway ahead of me and would have been in the Lifeboat station but for an unusual adherence to a stop command that I called from twenty yards behind her.

I managed to drag her to the other end of the Harbour car park, whereupon she dragged me all the way back down Coastguard Row. It is a problem that I doubt now we will resolve. Perhaps it will moderate with age, but it does seem quite ingrained.

Perhaps it was the actually doing some work today, but I felt unusually weary in the late evening and when The Missus had returned from her very important meeting, I retired early. Several customers told me that the forecast for tomorrow is sunshine and that I should gird my loins. Yeah, right. Like we have not heard that before.