Wednesday, 11 November 2015


Smuggling provides one of those fascinating subjects ,as for example, highway robbery and piracy, where so many romances are spun that it's hard to receive a sharp image of the way things were.  The Exeter newspaper, The Express and Echo of April 26th, 1963 tells how Forestry Commission workers 'ploughing' on Salcombe Hill found two limestone slabs hidden beneath the turf in a field 'near the top of the hill leading down to the village' of Salcombe Regis.   Beneath these slabs was a chamber ten foot square and twelve foot deep.   A team of local worthies investigated the hole and concluded that this was a hiding place for contraband goods landed at Salcombe Mouth.  

The investigators were a retired parson, the Reverend R.J. Reed, living in Newton Poppleford, a local archaeologist, Mr R. E. Wison and a certain Mrs S.H.M. Pollard.   They noted that the floor was of compressed earth and flints and that the diggers of it had scattered the earth 'to avoid drawing attention' to the chamber. It would be a satisfaction to know if a more detailed account of their discovery was published.  Is there anybody out there who knows, for example, exactly where was this cache?

Stories of hidden contraband abound but hard evidence of where it was hidden is thin on the ground (or under it!).   Clearly such a hidey-hole as this would be a safer place to stash goods than a farmer's barn or a church tower,  although there is no doubt these too were used.  There was a legend, no more than that, in the estuary village of Lympstone, which was infamously involved with smuggled goods coming across the Exe, that the carriers routinely hid their contraband in the deep ditches that run parallel to Wotton Lane.   This seems to make sense in that no greedy farmers or pious parsons needed to be involved.

In this same Express and Echo article, the writer, Frank Cole, quotes J.R.W. Coxhead, the writer on local smuggling, as saying:   'some half a dozen (such caches) have been found in the Branscombe area since the turn of the century.'  (That century not the last one!!)   Again it would be pleasing to see some hard evidence of such finds.   None seem to have been ploughed up recently.

Wednesday, 21 October 2015


Trust not this joker in his gaudy clothes.
He steals the daylight and he cools the sun.
He kills the lily and he blights the rose.

Storms are his claim to fame. He blasts and blows
and robs the mariner of all he’s won.
Trust not this joker in his gaudy clothes.

He strips the green from ev’ry tree that grows
and paints the garden brown and when he’s done
he kills the lily and he blights the rose.

Insolent spoiler,  see him thumb his nose
and drown a country wedding - not just one!
Trust not this joker in his gaudy clothes.

He fills the skies with seagulls and with crows
and bids the swallows flee,  the hedgehogs run.
He kills the lily and he blights the rose.

He breathes his chill on fingers as on toes
and pockets all he finds of summer fun.
Trust not this joker in his gaudy clothes.
He kills the lily and he blights the rose.


Tuesday, 8 September 2015


Today is a sunny day and a good day perhaps for lying on the pebble beach at Salcombe Regis and watching cormorants for an hour or so.   They are fitting creatures for a Jurassic Coast - prehistoric monsters!  There are now eight birds on two tidebound rocks all facing into the breeze, Not one of them wants to go for a swim.   Not one of them wants to make the famous cormorant cross.  The sea is choppy but not rough and the breeze is strengthening.

Half an hour ago there was a fair amount of activity.   Some of the birds were swimming and there was a coming and a going on the rocks. Some birds were apparently having fun pushing others into the sea like young men on the radeaux of Mediterranean resorts.   When the cormorants wanted to get back onto the high rocks most of them climbed up it foot by foot, each foot gained by a fluttering leap upwards,  but one or two arrived from the sea in full flight and landed on the top deck like helicopter pilots of the Royal Navy.   There has been little evidence of the birds catching fish.  If they were feeding they were doing so in a way that deceived the eye.  As soon as one gained the summit of a rock it spread its wings and shook them. Then for a short while it would stand still, spread-winged, the way that is expected of a cormorant.

Now though, there is no coming or going and no spreading of wings.  The birds are not moving. Watching them now is like watching grass growing.  For the last twenty minutes these eight cormorant have been about as lively as Antony Gormley's Iron Men. 

Friday, 28 August 2015


During the Great War, if you were a Boy Scout and over fourteen you could be employed as a coast watcher.  The boys worked a twelve-hour shift, six hours walking the coast and six hours in the post. They were seen to be valuable to the war effort, joining with the Coastguard in watching out for Zeppelins, submarines, spies and invaders.  Most of the time none of these came along to be spotted from the East Devon cliffs but Mr Hastings of Sidmouth felt that there were not enough Boy Scout coast watchers and wrote to the  Devon Education Committee asking them to withdraw their prohibition on boys under the age of fourteen being employed in coast watching.

The Education Committee met at the beginning of May 1916 and discussed Mr Hasting's letter and his request.  Mr Hurrell said he was sure it was a bad thing for boys to be engaged in this work.  It was bringing them up to be idlers and loafers.   Mr Morshead assured Mr Hurrell that there was no loafing where the East Devon boys were concerned.  They did not loaf;  they did not smoke and they certainly looked better than they would poring over miserable books.

Mr Vickery was of the opinion that coast watching had a tendency to make boys idle and he did not think it desirable.  Mr Young said the Boy Scouts of Teignmouth took their duties seriously and coast watching did them any amount of good.

By a majority the Committee decided to keep the age limit at fourteen.

Only a few days before, on Easter Saturday 1916 one of the coast watchers between Teighnmouth and Maidencombe had looked down from the cliffs and seen two young ladies perched on a rock surrounded by the sea and with waves breaking over the rock upon which they sat, or perhaps stood.  They had been on the beach all night having set off from Teignmouth in the afternoon of Good Friday.  They had at first been cut off by the tide and had sheltered in a sea cave overnight.   The next morning they tried to reach Maidencombe but ended up marooned on the rocks.   The coast watcher ran to his post and used the field telephone to alert Teignmouth and a motor boat was despatched to rescue the young ladies who, so the newspaper reported, "bore traces of the trying ordeal through which they had passed."

Source:  The Western Times,  April 24th. and May 5th.  1916