Due to a lack of time yesterday, I completely missed the hidden delights of Cove Harbour. It’s time to make amends, but first I must find the way down from the clifftop.
A road winds down the side of the cliffs from the village to the harbour. However, access to the beach requires a secret 180 feet tunnel, cut by hand through the rock in 1752. There’s a locked door in the side of the tunnel, leading to cellars once used to store fish and contraband, the secluded cove a perfect spot for smuggling.
I have the beach to myself. The breakwater has collapsed at the cliff end, leaving the nearby house vulnerable to future storms.
Retracing my steps through the tunnel to access the other side of the harbour, I’m drawn to a commemoration inscribed on the breakwater.
The 64-year-old local fisherman died when sailing alone, caught in a rope that dragged him overboard. Time advances, through the Jill Watson sculptures commemorating the 19th-century fishing disaster, the loss of young life in the 1980s shown in the Skinningrove video from Day 215, to this simple inscription, but the dangers of the sea remain constant.
Crossing Dunglass Old Bridge, the 10-mile John Muir Link trail will take me to Dunbar. It connects the John Muir Way — the 134-mile cross-country trail from Helensburgh on the Firth of Clyde to Dunbar — with the Southern Upland Way and the Berwickshire Coastal Path.
Most hikers will have heard of John Muir (1838 – 1914). Born in Dunbar, he emigrated to America at the age of 10. Passionate about wild places, he founded the modern conservation movement, being a key contributor to establishing several national parks, starting with Yosemite.
The path passes through beautiful woodland before reaching the Linn waterfall.
A rope is attached to a tree and hangs down the steep muddy slope. Like a Pavlovian dog responding to a bell, the pack comes off and I lower myself down. Hart’s tongue ferns grow everywhere — my first naming of a fern! It’s a little more tricky scrambling back out.
Back on the open clifftop, Torness nuclear power station shimmers white against the sun. It’s scheduled to be decommissioned in 2028 as the graphite cores reach the end of their operational life. Reports of cracking never sound good.
I love the winter light for photography. I’m no technical expert but I assume it’s something to do with the sun being low in the sky for longer periods. The massive concrete seawall curves round the power station. Cormorants gather in the harbour.
Barns Ness Lighthouse (1901-2005) looks on as orienteering runners and walkers of all ages search for orange and white flags positioned among the dunes. I’m tempted to move one.
A golf course sprawls across the approach to Dunbar, as there seems to be at every town on the East Coast of Scotland. I skirt round the edge, enjoying the rock formations.
After an interesting walk round Victoria Harbour, I have a couple of hours to kill before my train. The Station Yard micro pub is perfect. Fine beers, excellent pizza delivered from a nearby restaurant and lively company. The couple next to me have a lovely chocolate labrador who becomes the centre of attention.
It seems appropriate to end with a John Muir quote.
Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity; and that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.
Walk distance: 15 miles.
Total distance: 3,787 miles.
Wonderfully written as always
Thanks Sarah. Do you have any long-distance hiking planned this year?
The tunnel and waterfall look most interesting. And I like the comment about a Pavlovian dog – I am the same, especially when it comes to old mine entrances.
My head torch is normally for those long days when there are not enough daylight hours, but it always comes in handy for a cave or tunnel. They have to be explored! 🙂
Our holiday in these parts was 2019 so that inscription is new to me. Sad.
Yes. These inscriptions always make me stop and think, followed by some research when I get home. I’d not realised that fishing still had such a high death rate.
I explored the area around Eyemouth and St Abbs when visiting a friend who was working on the construction of the power station (mid ’80’s I think). It was such a major project for the area and hard to believe it’s soon to be decommissioned. Am I getting old or do nuclear power stations not last that long!
I liked the ivy clad bridge and waterfall. A lovely contrast to the cliffs.
I really enjoyed the woodland path inland. Hopefully, many more to come.
Apparently, five out of the nine nuclear power reactors present in the UK have a remaining operational life of one to two years. I think we are just more durable!
Sadly I missed Cove harbour. Still something to come back for. It’s not just towns on the east coast that always have a golf course!
I’ll make sure I pack my hard hat then!