Day 10 Brixham to Budleigh Salterton – 30th May – 16.1 nm
In 2012 I had landed at Budleigh Salterton, it had not been
part of the plan but the weather decided otherwise. I remember being not too
upset, it had been an unpleasant day, I was intrigued to see ‘Bud’ and there
was always the chance of running into Fat Wendy from Pomeroy. Alas the last one
was not to be.
Today I didn’t plan on landing there either, funny how life
pans out.
From the beach at Brixham, Torbay looked as flat as a
pancake. There was a breeze blowing from the south, the forecast was for mid to
high teens from the south - no great drama.
But the rule is not to take anything for granted. As I ran
through the plan and the bang-out options with the Team Manager I could see
that she thought I was being a touch cautious, it was flat out there. But something
didn’t feel quite right and the landing options after Budleigh were limited, so
let’s go through the plan anyway. I had a nagging suspicion that it could turn
out to be a short day. I might get a chance to meet up with the lass from
Pomeroy after all.
Once clear of Torquay it got lumpy and draughty. I had a
couple of visits from motor cruisers asking if I was ok, the second one
questioned how safe I was out there. I reflected on this as he stood there
dressed in that classic British set of immersion clothing that is jeans and
t-shirt. To be fair to him he may have been wearing wellies too, but I couldn't see.
I was in full winter gear (bar pogies – I was ‘down south‘after
all) - I wondered if the definition of irony could stretch to the situation as
we parted ways.
Soon lumpy got steep; it was too steep to run straight with
any comfort, so that meant Exmouth was now an unpleasant, only if we have to,
option. It dawned that the easier running cross-sea was going to take me to
Budleigh Salterton, once again.
Not ideal.
Not only was it to be a short day, but Bud has a steep shingle beach. A rather steep, big shingle, dumping beach. I couldn't see a landing on the main beach would end in anything other than kit-strewn, boat scouring, it all ended in tears, sogginess.
Not only was it to be a short day, but Bud has a steep shingle beach. A rather steep, big shingle, dumping beach. I couldn't see a landing on the main beach would end in anything other than kit-strewn, boat scouring, it all ended in tears, sogginess.
On arrival it didn't look good. The beach was not going to
factor in this man’s plan. There was a shallower, sandy spot at the west end,
with less of a dump, but it was getting too close to the cliffs.
Time for a bit of sneakiness.
I like streams/rivers on crappy beaches, they give you options.
I like options too.
On a closed out surf beach a river can scour a slightly deeper
channel that gives you a little longer on the green wave, getting you closer in,
before it all goes white.
On deep dumping beaches they work in reverse, making things shallower, leaving a small
underwater ‘delta’ that lets you paddle in through a bit of
friendlier surf, rather than the dodgy dumping stuff.
Bud had a nice little stream that emptied at the east end.
On the map it drains a small lagoon from behind the shingle spit – an ideal haven.
The only down side is that it empties onto a rocky ledge.
Anyway, to
finally get to the point –
surf in, looking for the gap, there it is – a boat length
wide of calmness, rocky breakers on the right, the brown dump on the left, committed
now, don’t f*** this up, straight as an arrow, phew, TFFT, up the stream and into peace and
calm, kids in swimming cozzies and dinghies looking strangely at me - dressed
for immersion.
