After our success on Tuesday I was keen to get afloat again. Talking to Les he had heard of a trip up the River Avon from Bantham to Aveton Gifford. This sounded good. The tides would need to be with us as again as we did not fancy being left without water beneath the hull in the river. Another factor was the rip tide at Bantham Beach. “No problem,” says Les. “we’ll launch on the river at the boathouse on the quay.” Now just because Mike had never seen or heard of a Boathouse or Quay at Bantham does not mean it does not exist! Bowing to Les’s superior knowledge about winds and tides we agreed to meet at 78 at 0800 hrs Friday. This would give us plenty of time to load the gear onto my truck and arrive at Bantham with the tide still in our favour.
It’s not that I am a doubting Thomas but I have on so many other occasions been wrong footed by info that certain things in life I feel compelled to check. Well would you Adam and Eve it there is a Quay and Boathouse at Bantham. GR 668437. There was also listed a harbourmaster but he was not answering his phone. I thought we might be able to park near the quay and launch but on reflection thought no.
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| Quay and Boathouse at Bantham. |
We arrived at the carpark and the nice little man after relieving us of £3-50 said we could park just inside the gate to unload the Kayaks and that we were OK to launch on the quay. “The Harbourmaster? You’ve just missed him.” The short but steep descent to the water’s edge where the tide was already dropping would be a bit of a pull up at the end of the day but that was hours away yet. We stowed our trolleys and launched.
0915hrs. The sun was out and the Met had promised us full sun and little or no wind. Wrong again. The sun soon disappeared and the wind sprang up. It stayed with us the whole paddle up to AG bridge. Straight ahead lay Crusoe Villa and Boat House Quay at GR 670447. A beautiful weekend retreat. The Avon, it must be said is a stunning river, even on an overcast day. Trees line the water’s edge on both banks along most of it. Where these peter out, reed beds and wetlands allow for nesting birds and swans. In places you can kayak along under the overhead tree cover with a pretty perpendicular wall of stone beside you. There are very few houses on the water’s edge so apart from a few cows in the fields you really have the river pretty much to yourself. We only saw three others all day on the river, two females out in their canoes and a guy.
A few rock ledges amongst the trees and the odd small beach gave us an excuse to explore for bivvy sites for a return paddle. At GR674459 there was a potential overnight beach but it was closer to AG Bridge and the public slip and car park as well as being pretty fouled with jetsam. A slow trickle of water from the nearby field did not help overmuch with the slightly swampy area and numerous sand-flies. I’m not painting too good a picture here am I?
Back on the kayaks we set off again. Still into wind. At times it seemed we were going nowhere and the thought crossed my mind several times “Do I really need to Kayak under AG bridge?” Well no I don’t but what happens if I never come this way again? Let’s press on. The tide had now well turned and it was difficult to tell which was worse the wind or the tide. None of this helped us but the young man bearing down upon us like an MTB was certainly benefitting. He managed to enquire of us “A bit of a struggle going upstream?” I realised what the cheeky beggar might have been implying after he had passed.
I gritted my teeth and lent to the paddle. Les who was by now quite some distance ahead and hanging onto a mooring buoy for dear life suggested we might as well turn and head back downstream. I pretended I had not heard him and pushed on.
Now with the bridge in sight the wind dropped to nothing and the sun came out.
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| Approaching Aveton Gifford Bridge. |
1105hrs. A quick photo call under the bridge which carries the A379 from Modbury to Kingsbridge and we could drift back down. At a slower, more leisurely pace. Les suggested we kayak under the other section of the road bridge but we were distracted by the antics of a 4x4 drive Japanese truck. Here the tidal road, marked by large wooden posts showed the direction of the tarmac but not the depth. Our City Slicker had stopped and was wondering what to do? Mike quick as a flash assessed the situation and with a few deft strokes of his paddle was over the road and standing his paddle on end indicated to the driver the depth to be no more than eight inches. He gave me the thumbs up and came on. Shouting “Thanks.” as he passed. I replied with “Should have bought a Landrover.”
Not knowing how much water we would lose to the outgoing tide we headed back towards a potential brunch stop at GR 677451 the old kiln on the edge of Stiddicombe Creek. However it was occupied (by the two ladies in canoes) who like us had the intention of a leisurely lunch. Not wishing to share we pulled for the opposite shore and found a respectable beach upon which we could land that had some shade amongst the trees to protect us from the sun whilst we cooked brunch.
1155 hrs. This was some feast. Not for us a limp lettuce and egg sarnie. We had the makings for a truly royal feast. I had suggested to Les that he brings a burner and mug and we would have a fry up. Whilst I fire up my micro gas burner and start to cook some onions and mushrooms in an old Fray Bentos pie tin Les has produced something akin to an Aga with a range of pots and pans Jamie Oliver would have been proud to own. My Quorn sausages looked pathetic compared with the rashers of bacon Les was cooking in a full sized fry pan.” Les, please don’t contaminate your food with bacon fat for me I’m happy to eat the Quorn sausages.” I said. I cannot, or will not re-call what Les replied but it was something along the lines of “I am not over-convinced as to the quality and taste of Quorn products in general and their sausages in particular, therefore I need to decline your kind offer on this occasion.”
Les marvelled at my skills with a couple of metal mugs and the old Fray Bentos pan. He swore he had never eaten as well before whilst out and continued to marvel between bites of his bacon and egg banjo. I told Les “That in truth generally if it’s not dehydrated and can’t be prepared in one metal mug stowed in the back of a bergan with my micro burner or over a small open fire I don’t bring it.
He had that look which doubted me! Unbeliever.
1300hrs. Brunch finished we stowed kit and continued downstream. Now opposite the Put In we decided to try to exit the Avon into the sea and kayak around to get nearer to the beach exit point for the car park. A good idea but grounding by Les and the current in the river now pulling me gave us other ideas. As we sped towards the last bend of the river before flowing out towards Burgh Island we decided to run ashore, beach ourselves and carry out a recce. Caution served us well on this occasion. We both decided the surf was too strong and with all the swimmers and other water users out there we did not want to become the afternoon entertainment. We hauled our kayaks up the beach, then up some newly cast concrete steps at Ham End and onto the cliff path on Bantham Ham. After a short 20 metre portage we could break out the trolleys and wheel the kayaks the half mile back to the truck.
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| Burgh Island in rear. |
1400hrs. With everything stowed we headed for home, a spa and a beer. A brilliant day and one that would need repeating.
