Out for a post-Easter walk we came across a most charming small natural seawater pool just off Menabilly beach. At about four metres by three metres and perhaps just under a metre deep, it hardly qualifies to stand alongside the other great pools around the coast but it appears to be completely natural and was filled (at a very low tide) with water so clear that it was difficult to see the surface.
Part of its charm is that it is set within a single circle of rocks which appears crenellated like a miniature castle, almost as though the mermaids had created their own small pool. Many of the larger pools, such as that at Boat Cove, Pendeen, seem to have their own ‘children’s’ pool. Here is one on its own.
A recent re-visit to Stackhouse Cove revealed a surprising discovery: there may be a third bath to add to the two we have written about before.
We have not found any mention of this in any literature and so it is very speculative but it is undoubtedly a very nice open air sea water bath. The only disadvantage is that it is only exposed at fairly low tides.
Stackhouse cove showing the positions of the three baths
Bath 1 is the fresh water bath, cut into the cliff for Mrs Stackhouse (which we were pleased to see was attracting a fairly regular stream of admiring visitors).
Bath 2 is the sea water bath on the eastern side of the cove which shows clear evidence of man’s intervention in its creation.
There is something very romantic about things emerging from under the waters: think the Lady of the Lake brandishing Excalibur, or a sunken town. Places such as the fabled Atlantis, Port Royal in Jamaica, Heracleon in Egypt, and storm-tossed Dunwich, generate stories of sunken church bells and ghostly apparitions. Some monuments escaped inundations: Abu Simnel was moved to avoid the rising waters of the Aswan dam while the architects of Rutland Water chose to protect Normanton church with a bund. As things stand, Venice will one day be faced with similar decisions if St Mark’s Square is not to slip below the Mediterranean waves.
The loss of Port Royal was instant and catastrophic; Dunwich took longer as the erosion of the coastline took centuries. For others it was the actions of man: the planned flooding of a river valley to create a reservoir.
Our research into the rock-cut pools of Cornwall took us (on a distinctly damp day) to the large pool at Trevone. This was made famous recently when it featured in the BBC series of Enid Blyton’s Mallory Towers when some young actresses had to pretend that a distinctly stormy Cornish day was just the time to go swimming in cold water. They carried it off splendidly despite the usual Blytonesque bullying of another girl.
This is one of the larger sea pools around the coast.
It being New Year’s Day, we felt the need to get out and explore something new. Continuing our recent theme of searching for rock-cut swimming pools, and advised by another article in Cornwall Live, we set out for the environs of Pendeen to search for three we had not seen before. These were all man-made or man-improved, often by local miners, probably in the C20. As it was a viciously cold bright day, we felt no necessity to pack our swimming things.
A chance encounter with a posting on Cornwall Live’s website took us on a bright October day in search of another Cornish curiosity: the Tivoli gardens in Lerryn. The website tells the story well.
It describes ‘fountains, arches, bandstand and swimming pool, appearing unexpectedly through the trees and undergrowth’ on the edge of a remote Cornish village. We agree with the undergrowth and degree of surprise but the plurals are perhaps generous.
We have been seeking out a series of early rock-cut baths mentioned in an article by Michael Tangye . The third beach he mentions is Polridmouth on the Menabilly estate. This, he says, is later than the earlier ones at Stackhouse and Portreath, and was constructed for Jonathan Rashleigh (1820-1905) ‘for health reasons’.
Our recent trips in search of tidal pools has reminded us of our favourite: the mermaid pool at Porthtowan which is C20th. This is located on the east side of the beach, requiring some scrambling over rocks at anything higher than half tide.
A friend recently shared a wonderful letter with us:
Inspired by our discovery of the Stackhouse baths a couple of weeks ago, we continued reading Michael Tangye’s article on Rock-cut baths in Cornwalland headed for Portreath to find ‘Lady Basset’s pool’ – or more correctly pools. The Bassets – Lord and Lady – were not people to do things by half for there are seven of the things at Portreath, the nearest large beach to the family home of Tehidy. They are thought to date from the early 1780s ‘for the pleasure of Susannah, Lady Basset, and her young daughter Frances’ (b 1781)’.
Imagine: it is the late C18 century, you are a rich gentleman with estates in Camborne and a passion for seaweeds and algae some of the rarest of which are found in a small inaccessible cove on the edge of Mount’s Bay. You want to spend time on your hobby but, at the same time, you fall in love with and marry (1773), a young lady from Shropshire called Susannah Acton. What could be more natural than to build (1775) a castellated mansion for her, just above your favourite cove, and name it after her – Acton Castle – so that she feels at home. You install seawater tanks in the basement so that you can observe your special seaweeds. But how to entertain your new wife?
A Cornish Journey 