Words and photos:
Richard Janes

SKW coaches sea kayaking on Anglesey and the western coastline of Wales https://seakayakingwales.com

Products include Biodiversity Eco Kayaking, sea kayak sailing, navigation, leadership and skills courses.

Under the shadow of Covid-19. A very special paddle to the Skerries (Anglesey)

Rich Janes (Sea Kayaking Wales) and Lyn Jackson (senior pharmacist at an NHS hospital), paddle to Anglesey Skerries in the final days before national restrictions on movement due to the Coronavirus.

As with other and fortunately few major events in our lives, we vividly remember where we were when they happened. There has been much written about Covid-19. Horror stories, tales of great sadness and accounts of professional devotion from those looking after the sick. This is a happy tale. A report of a beautiful, happy day spent with a client and friend in the early spring of 2020. A period none of us will forget and a day we will always remember.

With family and friends working within the NHS it became clear something was about to happen. Lyn, a senior pharmacist at her local hospital felt a definite ‘lull before the storm’ and I knew she needed a great day out before the madness at work began.

Lyn…
I first met Rich in September on a Dorset beach during a weekend training course. Very approachable, he offered continuing contact to the course attendees and at the beginning of my paddling hobby I had so many questions. I had the opportunity to head to Anglesey in November so the first thing he helped with was getting me spending some money on a drysuit. Up until that point I had discounted the trip as I had fears of spending it wet and cold.

That September paddle was my first time back on the water since a British Canoeing ‘Star’ award over 12 months previously. Life’s challenges had escalated and I was looking for something to support my mental health and well-being.

Come the trip in November I had become less emotionally strong and was in a period of time where I had been signed off from work. I had paddled since September and each paddle was a time where my woes were left on land and I just enjoyed ‘being’. The water seemed to bring remarkable peace and happiness.

We had a fantastic day out on the Menai Straits (Rich now beginning his patter regarding buying a paddle!) and this was followed by a Sunday out from Porth Dafarch. This day was extremely hard for me. The hurt of my sister’s suicide flowed over and I struggled to keep the tears at bay.

Being on the water now almost permitted me to stop, and start feeling what had built up over a very long time. Although one of the hardest days in my recovery it was the turning point and from this point on time spent on the water has again been a happy and memorable time.

I had paddled with Lyn several times before. Physically strong, I knew her skills were progressing very well. That Sunday in March was a beautiful day, a rare day which followed a string of ‘named’ storms and their hammering of the west coast. It was one of those days where you can feel hints of summer warmth in the sun but remembering winter’s bite in the breeze. The day began with a dawn chorus but distant hills still carried snow patches.

I met Lyn in the morning to consider our options. I could tell she was ‘edgy’ and after a long chat it became clear to me how important the day was to be.

Lyn…
I had looked forward to this weekend paddling for a long time. The weather had been appalling for a while and frequently thwarted getting out on the sea. I had planned a few days coaching but decided to go home early as my mum, who I care for, is in the very high risk category and I felt it would be better to get back to her sooner. I even considered driving home that morning but the sun was shining beautifully, the weather was perfect and it was an opportunity to get out on the water, not knowing what future weeks would bring. I had trips planned in my diary but no idea what the world was going to be like.

All Rich needed to do was decide on destination.

The weather forecast was for light winds from the north east and a big smiley sun in the graphics. I knew the Skerries would be an amazing option!

The Skerries or better; Ynysoedd y Moelrhoniaid (Islands of the bald-headed grey seals) in Welsh, lie around 3km from Carmel Head and 13km north of Holyhead. On the north coast of Anglesey, the tide would be ebbing until 15.30. This gave us the timely option to paddle from Cemlyn with the Ebb tide, enjoy a leisurely lunch and begin our journey back at slack water shaping a course inshore to enjoy assistance from the flood tide but away from the lumpy water of wind against tide conditions.

The short drive to Cemlyn was a joy and distant views of the sea hinted of calm conditions. Arriving at Cemlyn we could see the early vanguard of spring birds had arrived, silently watched by devotees with binoculars. The breeze was a little stronger than forecast but we felt confident in the stability of the weather pattern. I could see a physical change in Lyn. Suddenly animated and enthusiastic, she was clearly up for the paddle. Motivated by the beautiful day and excited by the prospect of a trip to the Skerries.

Lyn…
I do love how paddling makes me feel. Every time I get in a kayak I know that a time where I can switch off from all life’s toils and troubles is upon me. It really is amazing how the change in how I feel just courses through my body, almost like stepping into a completely different life. Ever since my mental health took a battering late last summer, I have done my best to get on the water as frequently as possible, although it hasn’t been easy with the winter weather we had. I am certain the improvement in my well-being has been in part related to this and if this hadn’t been my strategy, I would not have come as far as I have.

A quick call to the Coastguard and our launch was from the pebbly West Beach of Cemlyn with a plan to take the ebb tide escalator to the Skerries. Lyn was paddling with style over the smooth water of the bay. Middle Mouse could be seen to the east and we chatted of our memories there with friends and Lyn’s daughter, Amy. We could see some white water at Harry Furloughs rocks, marked by the green Harry Furlong (Harry Furlough) buoy. Our ‘Harry’ seems to have been a right charmer!

A local character named ‘Harris’ is reputed to have extinguished beacon lights marking the rocks at Cemlyn, thus wrecking them on the rocks. The rocks were a furlong distance from the shore. Over time the name is supposed to have changed to Harry Furlough (Furlong) Rocks. The stone beacon was changed to a green conical buoy in the late 1960s.

The ebb tide flowing over the rocks creates fun surf waves and a usual play spot for this trip. Tempting but mindful of the ghost of old Harris and his wrecking potential, I wanted Lyn to save her energy both mentally and physically, for the journey and lively water we would likely meet at the Skerries.

A trip to the Skerries involves a long ferry glide, punctuated by navigation aids and interesting targets. We took a line north, aware of the seductive tide drawing us to Harry Furlough’s. Our first target was the North Cardinal buoy of Victoria bank. Top cones pointing up, black over yellow and flashes V.Q if you are hereabouts at night. The massive Cardinal marker had a bow wave reminiscent of a powerful motorboat.

I was aware Lyn felt a little anxious at this stage. Land feels and is a long way away. Committing, superb sea kayaking! It must have felt strange for her as I kept our bows to the north as the inexorable tide pulled us towards the Skerries. West Mouse was clear to our south and when the ‘White Ladies’ on Carmel Head and the beacon on West Mouse lined up, we knew we were halfway. Soon, North Stack and South Stack became visible to the south west and it became time to think of our approach!

Lyn…
I recall Rich sharing quite a lot of this fascinating information but on this particular day, although really happy to be out, I sensed some anxiety within. The sea wasn’t horrendous and I’d been in worse, so I couldn’t put my finger on why I was feeling like it. It was a sense within, not really related to any thoughts I was consciously aware of.

On reflection later I do think it was because we were what was ‘offshore’ for me, whereas apart from my Middle Mouse trip, I hadn’t really previously gone very far from land’s edge at all. I remembered Geth’s advice (Sea Kayaking Wales) from the previous day about leaning forward, getting my paddle in the water and using my feet/legs. A rhythm took hold and it became less ‘shaky’.

As predicted, fast water was flowing at the Skerries and with clapotis, forming some very disturbed water. We planned a strategy and Lyn ‘show-boated’ through the fast water and into the first eddy. We worked up the eddy, a quick burst against the flow to miss rocks and we were in calm water, where the first of many, many Atlantic Grey seals welcomed us.

I have been here so many times but paddling into the lagoon today felt special. A portend of the ‘lock down’ to come? Lyn was enchanted by the attention being paid to her by all the seals. I happened to point out most were male!

Lyn…
This was the part of the day I probably found least challenging but apparently that is misjudged and was probably the most! It’s so strange how your head plays with your feelings about things. I think it was probably because I had clear directions on what was needed to manage this final approach so I was focussed and didn’t have time for any other thoughts.

And yes, the seals! A relative newcomer, my experiences have not included much wildlife thus far, so it was exciting. Rich, quite used to years of this being the norm around here, didn’t bat an eyelid as we shaped a course to cause least disturbance. Me? I was in awe. The seals on the rocks and then as they saw us slowly paddling into the lagoon, they would slip into the water and follow us, or suddenly bob up from across the other side.

This really was a first experience for me that I will never forget and it has forged an ongoing delightful memory. Later I watched from above as two other paddlers came in and were followed by a number of seals. It was perfect viewing.

Skerries Lighthouse was first lit on the highest point of the largest island after 1716. A patent for the lighthouse was subsequently obtained in 1824. The builder was William Trench, who lost his son off the rocks. Trinity House took over the responsibility for the light through an enabling Act in 1841. The light was converted to electricity in 1927 and automated in 1987. It flashes twice every 10 seconds and can be seen 22Nm away.

Basking in spring sunshine, lunch was a glorious affair! Without time for the usual sandwich preparation, we had packed stove and goodies. But I was told my (limited) paddling skills vastly surpass my tea making ability. What a treat to be in such a haven! Seals calling around the lagoon, whilst the ebb still roared over the ‘Platters’ to the South.

Lyn…
We had a decent time for lunch so cooked a feast and drank tea whilst I continued to take in the view. It was something I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of. Glorious sunshine, perfect views, playful seals, satiated… Oh! And the tea… Well, there’s always time to get better at it Rich! I have a photo that I have shared with my work colleagues as they know how much I like my PG Tips and never refuse a cuppa. I did today!

The time passed too quickly! And with the dying ebb it was time to leave. We left the lagoon with a flotilla of seals. Strangely, Lyn displayed some anxiety about the water. Waves well within her capability and not remotely as challenging as the water we had encountered on our approach. We reckoned her concentration and focus was so acute earlier, she didn’t have time to feel anxious! She quickly settled and enjoyed the glorious light over Carmel Head.

The paddle from West Mouse, east towards Cemlyn Bay was tough for Lyn. The stronger than forecast breeze was in our faces and I think the mental and physical strain of the day was beginning to tell. Not that it detracted too much from a wonderful area of coastline. Very soon we turned the corner of Trwyn Cemlyn and our starting point was close.

Lyn…
Oh my gosh the trip back was a slog. At some points it didn’t seem as if we were making any progress but having talked about the White Ladies earlier, I could see using them as transit points that we were definitely moving. I felt anxious again but put it down to tiredness. I kept making Rich slow down as I struggled to maintain the pace, regardless of the new paddles I was sporting after his tried and tested advice! I was exhausted when we finished and it felt good to hit dry land. The warmth in the air we felt earlier had gone and it was distinctly chilly, made colder by my fatigue.

It felt very odd to be finishing. I’d forgotten everything to do with the virus and suddenly thoughts started flooding back. What on Earth was beginning to happen?

My first trip to the Skerries was memorable and I hope Lyn feels the same of her first visit. An absolutely glorious day and fortuitous timing gave my friend and NHS worker some mental calm before the Covid storm. A storm whose waves are truly fearful.

Lyn…
The simple response is yes – it was a truly memorable trip. It has actually turned out to be even more important than just an amazing memory of a great classic paddle (South Stack and the Skerries in one weekend, who could ask for more?).

The trip had given me peace and relaxation prior to the crazy and deadly storm we subsequently entered. My team and I are increasingly busy with a new service we are providing to our clinical colleagues in critical care. Sometimes it’s important to just try and bring some calm to our days. The view from my desk has improved! I now have a slide show of some of the photos from that day set as my background – the lighthouse, the lagoon, the views, the seals, (lots of photos of seals), a glorious feast and an awful lumpy cup of tea.