FROM THE NORTH FORELAND TO PENZANCE BY CLIVE HOLLAND · ILLUSTRATED BY MAURICE RANDALL LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS NEW YORK: DUFFIELD & COMPANY MCMVIII All rights reserved To the Most Noble THE MARQUESS OF ORMONDE K.P., P.C., Commodore of the Royal Yacht Squadron, with his Permission, this Book of the South Coast is inscribed...

In the following pages, dealing with the most important or most picturesque of the harbours and seaports of the South Coast from the North Foreland to Penzance, no attempt has been made either to give “guide book information” which can be easily obtained elsewhere; or to afford technical sailing directions, soundings, or nautical information of the type to be found in such books as Cowper’s admirable “Sailing Tours,” “The Pilot’s Guide,” or in the Admiralty Charts. Rather has it been the object

The great headland, famous as the North Foreland, dazzling white on a bright summer’s day, and grey when the weather is cloudy; capped with green turf which is by turns, according to the season, the greenest and the least green in England, is familiar to all who have gone down Channel from the Thames estuary, and to many who have only crossed it. On the summit of this historic and impressive cliff, at whose foot, by turns, lap the waves of a quiet sea and rage the surges of winter’s gale, stands

The coast to Newhaven from Rye, if not exactly pretty, becomes once more attractive, and after Fairlight Point the Downs come seaward again, and the coast-line for a considerable distance is once more formed by bold chalk cliffs. Though Hastings has no longer a harbour and is not, as formerly in the long ago, a port, one must devote to this historic town and ancient Cinque Port at least a passing notice. Of all the chief towns of the Cinque Ports there are fewer records relating to Hastings than

It is not too much to say that the approach to Portsmouth by sea from the east on a fine summer day, with the Isle of Wight rising from amidst the waste of waters right ahead, looking like a piece of agate gleaming through the sun-born haze, is one of great beauty. On such a day, indeed, Selsey Bill, and the low-lying, much-broken coast which stretches between it and Southsea Castle, with Hayling Island, in shape like a deformed foot, dividing the entrances to Chichester and Langstone Harbours,

To enter the generally placid stretch of sea known as Southampton Water, in the early morning of a summer’s day or at sunset, past the crooked nose of land on which Calshot Castle stands, whether it be aboard a Castle liner or a forty-footer, is an experience of great charm. We know of few wide stretches of sea water which are so beautiful and so interesting, or where the effects of morning mists and the rose and gold of sunset skies are seen with greater charm. And as one advances up the Channe

The entrance to Poole Harbour, which lies at the extreme western limit of Bournemouth Bay, is one which yachtsmen have learned to approach with caution, lest they should take the ground on Hook Sand. But whatever the difficulties of navigating the tortuous channel which leads up to Poole Quay, past pretty Brownsea (to which custom has added the superfluous word “Island,” the determination “ea” or “ey” meaning island) and its imposing castle dating in part from the time of Henry VIII, maybe there

Two-thirds of the distance from the Bill of Portland across the wide expanse of West Bay lies the little old-world harbour of Bridport, with its quaint mouth into which runs the tiny river Brit, from whence the name is derived. The town itself stands some two miles from the harbour at the foot of a picturesque and well-wooded hill. On the quay is the famous George Inn, at which King Charles II lay when he came there a fugitive, having ridden over from Charmouth, where he had been almost discover

From Sidmouth to Exmouth, although the coast is picturesque and interesting, there is no harbourage of any account. Those who do not know the land may, upon looking at the map, jump to the conclusion that in the estuary of the Otter there is not only a picturesque creek to be explored, but also good anchorage. But, alas, their hopes as regards the latter will be disappointed. The mouth of the river is so silted up that no yacht, and certainly no vessel of any tonnage, attempts nowadays to enter

Past Berry Head, with its crown of golden gorse, its cave known as Ash Hole, supposed to have been the burial place of soldiers of Cæsar’s legions, and the house upon its lower slopes which, during the great French Wars with Napoleon, was used as a hospital, and was afterwards given to the poet Lyte by King William IV, one is soon in sight of the rugged pinnacle rock or islet known as the Mewstone, which stands like a sentinel on guard, just outside the entrance to the Dart. The scenery from Ber

Lovely Cawsand Bay is one of the fairest of havens and a good place in which to lie in almost all winds save south-east; but with quaint St Looe ahead and a fair wind one does not stand into the bay, but lays a course for Pellee Point and thence round Rame Head, with its ruins of the ancient chapel, and then there is a straight course for Looe Island and the harbour, which, in the season, is so picturesque with and full of pilchard boats. Seen from the pine-tree-clad hill above the town, and loo

Falmouth has by more than one famous sea captain and well-known yachtsman been referred to as “the finest harbour of the English coast.” It is not necessary for us to dispute the truth of this statement, or point to other havens (Milford, for example) which some may think have equal or greater claim. Those, indeed, who know Falmouth well, or have spent pleasant days there, at anchor or under canvas, will certainly do it justice and agree without demur to any praise which may be given it. One of