LUNDY, THE PUB KNAPKIN MEMOIRES

Amidst a clatter of stones the man who refused to lead plummeted downwards. As the ropes went tight he glanced wide eyed at me and we both looked down as the rocks splashed into the sea three seconds later. We agreed it was a curious irony, the thing you fear the most is actually the best thing that can happen to you. Having dusted himself off and waited for his belayer to stop laughing he breezed to the top like he had done it every day of his life. This is my message to you, my readers, you've got to fall to climb.

Mike, the aforementioned man, and myself have gate crashed the Jo and Martin South West tour, and as your correspondent (sitting here in the Marisco Tavern, gazing into a near empty beer glass), it is my duty to report to you on their adventures on the Isle of the Puffin.

Well I can confirm their faces were a picture of delight as, at nine o'clock, I tossed a top rope down the treacherous earth and stone rib above Sunset Promontory, but that's another story (which perhaps I shall tell later, but Jo, sensing the danger in my mischievous grin, has just bought me out with a pint of 'Lundy Original'). But actually I'm sure she could have done it because Jo's performance this week has been one of pure determination and guts. I was astonished to see, as we looked back at 'Shamrock' that Martin had 'allowed' her the two 4c pitches and bagged the short ungraded middle pitch for himself. The climb is a three star VS, the top pitch of which seems to hang perilously undercut above the sea and, halfway up as the footholds run out, Jo's progress was steady and assured.

Martin has had a strange week, kicking off with a workman-like ascent of 'Diamond Solitaire' a two star VS, which is no mean feat at any grade and justifies a few lines of description. The route skirts a hanging slab on the side of a huge rectangular block which leans against the mainland with a churning sea channel beneath, just to reach the start is a solo descent of an In-Pinn type arete. You are totally gripped before you even uncoil the ropes! But he climbed it well and the evidence has been captured on Kodak Gold, and if you turn up on the right night at the Salfords 'Harvester' (exotic!) I can show you the pictures.

Martin's loss of confidence midweek was not so much a result of the complexities of sound or 'crunchy' granite, but to do with the simple problem of route finding. As luck would have it the co-author of the guide book (Paul Harrison) was here with us this week and I had the pleasure of meeting him in the bar and opening the conversation with; "Paul, what the f*** is a 'glacis'?".

"I didn't write that part of the book", he replied, somewhat defensively.

Fortunately his climbing partner (Black Diamond salesman, full rack of brand new Quadcam thingies, backed off 'Diamond Life' (E4) under the beady gaze of my binoculars) explained "it's an intrusion into the rock, you know, something sticking out". Okay, with that in mind we might have had a chance of tracing the intricate twists of 'Cow Pie' on Dead Cow Buttress (where lies the engine of a crashed Heinkel from 1940, but I digress).

And as I digress, your correspondent must report we have just been visited by greatness, ensconced as we are on the upper tier of the bar, Geraldine Taylor (check out the photo opposite page 96 in your old Tremadog guide, on 'the Vulture', or was it 'the vulture on') sought out our company on the pretext of photographing her party, and as we casually discussed the likes of 'A Widespread Ocean of Fear' (absolutely everything it implies), we felt proud in her praise of our moderate efforts.

We have all had a fantastic day today, the sun came out at one, and as the tide raced in, Mike and I mastered the utterly classic 'Headline' E1 in Arch Zawn, despite ripping holds off it (as described earlier). Jo and Martin, Martin bursting back into form, swarmed all over Beaufort Buttress. And as the raucous noise and strains of strummed guitar chords subside in the bar, your correspondents eyelids begin to feel heavy. Tent-ward we must go.

I wish Jo and Martin well for their week ahead in Cornwall, and I believe they are now well prepared.

But what of Jo AND Martin I sense you cry. Well, beyond the fact that THEY ARE SHARING THE SAME TENT, my hands are tied, my lips are sealed and my sphincter tightly clenched (even though the general area is under the onslaught of some kind of blood sucking insect, but that's camping for you). But then again I'm only jealous aren't I? I must sign off now readers and go to bed and look forward to seeing as many of you as possible on the Spanish sortie. Sweat dreams!

Tony Boud

Sober footnote;

Lundy is a fantastic place for a weeks visit. I will definitely be going back again next year and I'm sure Mike, Jo and Martin will be also. The coastline is absolutely stunning and the adventures you can have just getting into the zawns are priceless, let alone getting out again. Three star routes at all grades pop out of every nook down the crinkled western seaboard. The wildlife is also wonderful, I spoke to people who had swum with seals and myself saw peregrine falcons and all manner of seabirds and a sunfish beaching itself on a rock (even though at the time I thought it was a shark!) (take your snorkelling gear if you have it, it's great underwater aswell!). From the practical point of view the whole island, and the properties on it, are owned and managed by the Landmark Trust and it is possible to rent any of the buildings if you don't fancy camping. There is a shop that can provide everything you need for even elaborate cooking and the excellent pub does breakfast, lunch and dinner. We must get a club trip together next year, I am volunteering as meet organiser, so, if you'll excuse the dreadful cliché, watch this space..