Pretty much the same view from my apartment balcony – St Clement’s Bay on Jersey’s south-east coast. The tidal range is pretty huge and can be 38 feet and more at new and full moon. It’s no wonder that, with this ever-changing view, I’m happy enough hanging around indoors much of the time. It’s a perfect backdrop to a day of writing.
This part of Jersey’s coast is one of a few Channel Island locations designated under the Ramsar convention which seeks to protect the world’s important wetlands. The area is rich in sea-life for those clever enough to interpret it.
The area is fraught with danger for the unwary however. It is too easy to wander a long way out on a low tide, not quite aware of what is going on. The tide can race in, cutting off any escape route. People are regularly plucked out of the sea around here and there have been a number of fatalities over the years.
Seymour Tower is a little further around the bay. Not so long ago two women on horseback were cut off by the tide. The horses were happy indeed to clamber up to safety on to the base of the tower. Once the tide had receded though they refused to come down again. A sand ramp had to be built before they consented to come down.
Periodically a few French people sail to the Ecrehous, a reef off the north-east of Jersey, and plant the tricolour there. It is part of the parish of St Martin and the connetable or his deputies have to go over there and reclaim it for Jersey. It’s usually settled over a little drink I believe 🙂 An old guy called Alphonse Le Gastelois lived there in exile from 1961 to 1975 after being wrongly accused of sex crimes in Jersey and he became known as the King of the Ecrehous.
I had to take several looks at the pictures, Roy, because the tide makes such an amazing transformation to the coastline! Here in Cairns we have ‘mud-flats’ and the ocean looks beautiful until the tide goes out and all you can see for miles is mud! It hasn’t always been like that. When Europeans first settled here they dredged the inlet so bigger boats could get in and out. This caused the mud to form (silly people!) 😉
I love reading your Jersey stories 😀
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Thanks Dianne. Maybe there are a few mud creatures that appreciate it! But you’re right, you mess with the coastline at your peril – the results are often unpredictable.
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Nice view, Roy! It looks as though you’ve got some prime real estate. I always enjoy the history you share and I didn’t care for History class in high school…it’s all about the teacher. 🙂
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Thanks Jill! It’s a blessed spot all right and I’m lucky to live here.
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Glorious views, Roy – and very tempting as I sit here in grey drizzle!
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Hi Susan! The drizzle only makes the sea view more mysterious!
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Ah thanks for this most alluring post, Roy.
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Thanks Jean – rather different to the Waterford coastline but endlessly intriguing.
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I’ve always felt that the Waterford and Jersey coastlines have certain similarities in that they both provide such amazing diversity and, of course, both are absolutely beautiful!
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Being French, I may just have to visit Ecrehous and claim it, haha! I promise to give it back if you by me a drink though 🙂
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French! Hey I didn’t know that. Must find out more details sometime. I think English-French hostilities have more or less ceased at this stage 🙂
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Gorgeous coastline Roy, I’m not surprised you’re content to watch that view. Jersey really has an interesting – and quite eccentric! – history.
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Hi Andrea. Yes I lucked out coming here in 1977. It’s a fortunate part of the world – not without its own problems of course – but I love it. I wish some others realised how lucky they are.
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It’s a beautiful view! I’m not sure I’d get any writing done. I’d just be staring out the window all the time (thinking, but not writing).
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It’s a very relaxing spot certainly. Not distracting though. There will come a time when I will no longer be able to afford to live there so I’m making the most of it.
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A perfect backdrop for writing indeed! I love the way the tide changes the landscape.
It was funny when Mr. H and I took our recent visit to Canon Beach here, because the “tide police” were driving straight over to Haystack Rock as we were leaving with signs and barriers. It’s all fun and games for families to explore the rock during low tide, however plenty would get stranded (and I’m sure historically have been) during high tide. It was cool to watch Mr. H’s reactions to all of this, since the ocean logistics are all new to him. : )
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Hi Britt! Tide police eh? Yes you mess with the sea at your peril, beautiful as it can be.
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I tend to give ridiculous names, such as “tide police”, to well…everything in life. : )
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