Friday 5th June: Manorbier - Whitesands Bay (35 n.mi.)

Rose and struck camp in the dark again, then trollied the boat down to the harbour, launching in the dawn light. Off Manorbier there was an immense shoal of moon jellyfish - at a conservative estimate, over a million individuals - that had not yet descended beyond the reach of daylight.

Unfortunately, I had to hasten past the caves and stacks of the Castlemartin firing range, in order to be elsewhere before it opened fire at 0900, but this stretch of coast is earmarked for a return visit when the range is not active.

Guillemots and kittiwakes (?) flew past, and gannets dived ahead, as I neared the mouth of the great natural harbour of Milford Haven. Described by Nelson as the greatest natural harbour in the world, second only to Trincomalee, Milford Haven is now famous for its deepwater berths for oil tankers and liquefied natural gas (LNG) carriers. This part of the coast also marks the boundary between two tidal regimes, the Bristol Channel and the Irish Sea, making it possible to plan a long day with favourable tidal streams throughout. Accordingly, I beached the boat at Marloes Sands, brewed up, cooked curry and porridge, lunched in style, and then pottered over to the famous nature reserve of Skomer Island to watch the puffins, razorbills, gannets and guillemots.

Crossing St.Brides Bay on a bearing, I was aware of deteriorating visibility ahead, so it was not much of a surprise when the squall hit and a gentle paddle in the sun turned, in minutes, into an energetic slog into a northerly force 5. The wind kicked up a small, but short wavelength, chop that soon had the bow burying and shovelling facefuls of cold water at me.

Choosing not to cut the trip short at Porth Clais, I pointed the boat into Ramsey Sound, site of The Bitches, a famous tide race and paddling playspot. The tide was flooding fast, and the opposing wind whipped the surface of the water into frenzied wavelets. I planned to cross to the Ramsey Island side of the Sound sufficiently far downstream to avoid the eddy that forms behind The Bitches, but not so far north as to risk getting involved with Horse Rock, and, with the exception of a minor waltz along the eddy line, this plan worked fine.

At Whitesands Bay, I was pulling the boat up the slip when a couple of familiar-looking sea kayaks landed close by. Justine and Barry had been out to the Bishops & Clerks, and kindly helped with a very welcome brew and then invited me into St.Davids for food, good company and beer.