Jenny’s cove, Lundy

Jenny’s Cove is a well known spot on Lundy, but most people only experience it from the top of the island on foot. My first trip around to Jenny’s cove was on a dive boat which whilst waiting for divers, gave the opportunity of taking staff on a trip around the island. As we travelled round from the South West of the Island, it was sublime to see the rugged cliffs from the sea. Usually I am walking on the cliff edges, and only see from the top down.

The boat sailed into the large bay, which used to be named West Bay. However in 1797 a ship ‘The Jenny’ carrying a cargo of gold dust and ivory sank in the cove, and its been called Jenny’s cove ever since. I wonder whether any of these treasures still lie at the bottom of the ocean.

As we reached the Cove, the boat sailed closer in towards the granite cliffs. As it did, I was awestruck, it was like entering a Cathedral; a huge cavernous space with rock structures like statues. The sound of the seabirds was phenomenal; Razorbills, Puffins, Guillimots, kittiwakes, Gulls, their cries echoing in the deep chasm.

I can remember these sounds when I read Jamie (2013) who writes about the Gannetry, she was observing in her book Sightlines.

‘each commanded its space, wether in the air or on the ledges where they made their fuss…. as some arrived, others were departing at speed, silent, heading straight out to sea….Whenever a bird landed, with its big wings flapping, all the neighbours raised a hue and cry, and that set off a chain reaction; so all over the cliffs there were outbreak of noise and agression.

The next time I went to Jennys Cove, It was for a swim. The Easterley wind meant that swimming on the wilder Atlantic West coast is not possible. However this day was chosen due to the winds being Easterley. Carefully treading our way down the side of the cliffs, you had to avoid the burrows, for fear of turning your ankle in the holes. These burrows might have been the home of a Manx Sheerwater or puffin in the breeding season. Maybe even a now more rare stie; a rabbit.

As the grassy bank turned to pure granite rock, I had to get down low and sometimes bottom shuffle. I was aware that this part of the island had been known to disembark passengers, when strong Eastely winds meant the landing beach could not be accessed! There are still steps hewn into the rocks, where so called pilgrims might have tred. However these steps dissapear and from there you just need to find a way down through the narrow gullies.

Once at the bottom of the rocks where land meets the sea, we found a safe place to enter the water, one which we knew would also be our exit. Moving into the bay, swimming on your back and looking up 350-500m high, I felt very small. Immersed in these edgelands where the rocks meet the sea, It was here that I felt totally embodied with nature. The seals came to investigate, not used to people swimming in these waters on the West side. The water was so clear, it smelt saltier and fresher on the skin, crisper and sightly colder than the East side, where sometimes detritus can wash up. There was no noise from people or human life just the sounds of nature.

References

Jamie, K., (2013). Sightlines. The Experiment.

Bibliography

Williams, M. A., (2011). The Lundy Companion: A Comprehensive Gazetteer of a Unique Island and Its Landmarks. Old Light Press.