The Anglesey Sea Symposium is a yearly event – and equally regularly it happens on a bank holiday weekend, much to the dismay of all those who have to travel far to that remote spot of Welsh seaside. From Runnymede, it is all across the island…

There was four of us going and we decided to get an early start to avoid the holiday traffic. Colin left on Friday morning, driving past Cardiff to pick up a former Club member, Linda Wood. Sean finished work at 1 p.m. and we had planned to hit the road just then but ended up having to get Ian in Woking, and as usual things got delayed, too. By the time we finally left, the M25 had already turned into a big car park and we tried cutting around the problem on minor local roads – not a great improvement.

Patience in traffic queues is not one of Sean’s virtues and soon there was talk of going back home for a paddle and trying again in the evening. He had booked us into a B&B with some unspeakable Welsh name and insisted that the Lady of the House had said she never went to bed early… Ian suggested that probably this meant another thing to her than it did to Sean, so we kept on driving slowly through miles and miles of sickeningly sweet smelling rape fields. Eventually, the traffic eased for a while - until we hit it again massively around Birmingham. Of course, it had to be a blazing hot day. I felt sunburn growing on my left cheek and arm. It was a slow drive through the Welsh Mountains, too. The random selection tape had switched itself over for about the 8th time, when Snowdon came into hazy sight. Ian from the back of the van: “…and I had thought that was a really good radio station!”

When we arrived at Holy Island at 10:30 p.m., it took a while before a middle-aged woman in a bright red dressing gown opened the door. “Oh”, she said, “well, I had given up on you!” During a tour of the house we discovered that she had given the second room to another three guys. “I hope you don’t mind sharing?”-- I must have looked sufficiently shocked, because suddenly she remembered her niece’s visiting room in the attic – which soon became Ian’s abode.

We decided that breakfast at 8:30 would be right to get to the ASSC (Anglesey Sea and Surf Centre) in time for the 9 o’clock start of activities. Unfortunately, we drove off into the wrong direction and instead of going “just around the corner” had a tour of the island – approximately every single road except for the right one – until a friendly postman set us back on track. By the time we got to the Centre, everybody had disappeared or was about to do so. We found Colin giving his roof rack a last check before heading off to Rhoscolyn Beach for a Group Management Clinic, and Linda had just got her hired kayak tied onto the Centre’s trailer to go down to the closest beach for a beginner’s course.

Since it was too late to register for anything, we decided to go down to Beginner’s Beach as well and just have a warm-up paddle. Even though it was a beautiful blue-skied sunny day, the onshore winds were fresh and we put on as many layers as we could, watching the beginners group disappear around the corner of the bay. Ian had brought one of the Club’s sea kayaks and set upon changing the footrests while I framed the colourful array of demo boats on the beach and the picturesque bay into photos.

Sean and I took our white water duo out but soon found that it was not the ideal sea craft. The wind made it skid across the water and directional stability in the little ripples was zero. We were glad there were no real waves… Instead, we went back and started trying out demo boats – doubles first, to see how my bad shoulder would cope. I was amazed by the multitude of boats on the market, and the differences between them. Valley do a huge expedition boat which can be taken apart in the middle for easier transport. Brilliant idea, considering the fact that it is so heavy two people can hardly carry it empty (wonder how one is supposed to move it once it’s packed for a long trip…). The response in the water was not exactly much better. We did prefer the Kirton boats – a recreational version of some 5.65 metres length and a fantastic expedition boat of 6.9 metres. Ever so comfortable, it has only one drawback: The fully equipped version costs a flat £2500!!!

After lunch, we decided to take part in a little group trip supposed to go to the overfall at South Stack, taking in Penrhyn Mawr tidal race on the way back. Hugging the coastline and steering our very manoeuvrable white water duo around the rocks (it really came into its own here…), we thought this would be a fun trip. The bizarre rock formations teamed with birds of all sorts: common sea gulls, oyster catchers, puffins and some that I don’t know all breed in the cliffs and dived in and out for their daily catch, so funny to watch. The gorse bushes stood in brilliant yellow all along the coastline making for splendid scenery. Unfortunately, the group leader soon decided that there was too much of a swell around South Stack for a large group of 31, mostly inexperienced, sea kayakers - and instead led us across the open water to the Port of Trearddur on the lower end of Holy Island. A nice exercise in coastal navigation, but not one you want to do in a white water boat! It took us at least three times as much energy to push that tank across the water than the others with their sleek sea kayaks…

As a result, we were knackered when we returned, packed up and headed straight for Holyhead, the main town of the island, for a meal. Ian joined in, but Colin and Linda decided to hear the “lecture” set out by the Symposium as evening entertainment. We tried “The Crown Inn”, allegedly the best place in town for a meal. The young waiter had his first day. He served our soups without spoons and took an hour to bring my pot of tea, then got confused over my choice of main course: After my two preferred orders (out of 15 dishes on the menu) had been unavailable, I opted for chicken with changed side dishes. This again proved a major problem. He ended up forgetting the cutlery again and finally, forgot to bill us for one dessert, too. By then, we were so amused that we told him and even gave him a tip…

We found the Centre properly on Sunday morning – about three minutes drive from our B&B - late again because we had dutifully listened to a lecture on breeding white canaries and feeding them red, given by the owner of the place. None of us were too bothered about having missed the trip to The Skerries, about 18 miles return. We went down to Beginner’s Beach again to try out more boats. This time, we did not even bother to take our duo down, but made friends with Mr. Mega-Man instead. Mega had a viable collection of boats there to play with, including a “Raptor” polo boat and a “Jester” sit-on-top surf-ski, the latter a really weird experience (probably better if there is some real surf to make use of its original features). We also tried his various ultra-light sea kayaks and were very pleased to hear that they will start producing an economical version of a sea double for launch at the next Canoe Expo! On top of that, we found that they are based near Arundel - conveniently close to our region to go and try out some more boats and of course, the brand-new double…

We met Colin and Linda later in the day and heard about the evening lecture. It had actually been a slide show of somebody paddling along Queensland in horrendous weather. The guy had talked so fast he was hard to follow, and Pete of Kirton Kayaks commented that all the slides had looked the same – grey in grey – except for some that showed the worst campsites he had ever seen. I pleasantly recalled the taste of roast chicken with all the trimmings… This night, Colin and Linda were going to join in and we would pick them up from the Centre campsite after a nice walk along the cliff path.

It was gorgeous walking the springy moor grass on the cliff tops, looking into stunning ravines and following small pathways between the extra stingy gorse bushes (apparently gorse thorns really thrive on salty sea winds!). We took quite a lengthy walk to some headland from where we could faintly see the tidal race we should have paddled the day before. When we returned we found a note stuck to our van saying that Colin and Linda would go to tonight’s lecture instead of having dinner with us. Alright, so off we went between the three of us again and probably found the truly best spot for a meal on the island. It was a family type pub-cum-restaurant called the Prince of Wales and besides serving delicious pub grub they also had a quiz night on and we had lots of fun!

On Monday, the highlight of the symposium, the yearly helicopter rescue training, had been scratched from the programme due to high expense, so we decided to do a bit of proper sightseeing instead and explore the South Stack Lighthouse in detail. We managed to leave our B&B after another lecture by the owner, this time on the work situation on the island and the best times to avoid the ferry traffic, at around 11 a.m. - and bumped into Colin and Linda who had the same destination! Parking for non-customers at the Lighthouse Kitchen was £5 per vehicle, so we topped our sumptuous breakfast off with another pot of tea. Linda mentioned the previous night’s “lecture” – a slide show on the weather-wise very unlucky circumnavigation of the Easter Island which only facilitated two stops on the precious place. Nobody mentioned the ceilidh band that was supposed to play afterwards at the Centre. Long live the quiz night…

Then we faced the five hundred something steps down the cliff and up into the lighthouse tower. A friendly warden informed us that the lighthouse was now operated automatically. It had a backup system of 2x 1000 watt bulbs, one cutting in as soon as the other would give up, with the rotating focus floating on a bed of mercury (in an emergency case, it can be turned literally with one finger…). The 40-watt emergency bulb outside and the fog detector system were rather intriguing, too.

On our way back we bumped into a TV team, trying to box a trailer for a film on the round-the-world trip of a sea kayaking couple who plan to spend three years in their Romanys… At the very moment, those guys were headed towards the little tidal race just underneath the Lighthouse Bridge. Needless to say, we had to stay and get some photos of this most fortunate coincidence… At least, it seemed to make the murderous five hundred something steps back up the cliff worthwhile.

After a replenishing ice cream, it was time to say goodbye to Colin and Linda. They made an early exit to beat the traffic whereas we stayed back for Sean to catch some fun at the playspots of Stanley Embankment and Four-Mile-Bridge. Somebody had said just after high tide would be fine, but either we had the time table wrong or didn’t find the proper places as there was nothing around that enticed Sean into unloading his RPM. Just as well probably, because even leaving there and then it was past 10 p.m. when we arrived back at Ian’s home to drop him and his boat off and ponder the adventures of the weekend over a cup of Fudge Chocolate…

A real good time, lucky weatherwise and some truly inspiring chats - the question left open: Was it worth the over £50 fee they asked for the symposium?

by Petra Hudson, June 1999