The Jurassic Coast: It's Bat's Head, but is it Art?

In the past few days an unusually high pressure settled over the UK, the barometer reaching 1050 millibars, the highest recorded since 1957.

High pressure was caused by a massively fast Jet stream in the mid-Atlantic, recorded as 238 miles per hour. The jet stream hit slower air over the UK and a pile-up ensued, accounting for the high pressure.

With the sea calm, little wind and a neap tide, I decided to continue with the Jurasic Coast adventure on the Dorset Coast.  I had to skip the first five miles due to the firing range just beyond Kimmeridge.

I started at Lulworth Cove. In the winter when the visitors are few and the cove is empty of visiting yachts, this is one of the more beautiful spots on the South Coast.

It was formed due to a coastal wall of hard limestone being breached by the sea. The waves forced through and refracted outwards, wearing down the softer rock behind and resulting in a bowl-shaped natural harbour.

The limestone is Portland stone, this type used to build many iconic building, including Buckingham Place, St Pauls Cathedral and even parts of the United Nations Building in New York.

It was a surprisingly short distance between launching and exiting the cove, the entrance flanked by the remains of the wall.

The west side of Lulworth Cove

A light easterly wind made it easy work going west and the sea remained calm.

Out to sea was a Royal Navy vessel on exercises.

I could see the Isle of Portland in the distance.

A close up revealed the lighthouse.

The next major landmark was Durdle Door, again formed from hard limestone. From the sea, it looks even more like a door, the 'Durdle' derived from an ancient word meaning ‘drill’ or ‘hole.’

Durdle Door camouflaged by the cliff behind

Beyond Durdle Door is Bat's Head, a structure flanked by two arching chalk cliffs, the wings of the bat, dominating Weymouth Bay as seen from the sea.

Bat's Head - the 'head' towards the left

I was struck by how much Bat's Head and the surrounding cliff looks like a modern work of art. As I rowed on, I pondered on whether nature can ever be called art and the different viewpoints on this matter.

At this point my camera stopped due to the excessive cold. As a backup I got out my smart phone, which  I found was also not working.

PicoMicroYacht eventually entered Weymouth Harbour.

The voyage:

Later on I found various suggestions to keep a mobile phone going in the cold:

Wrap it up with an insulating material

Use a thermal protective pouch

Use a hand warmer

Use body heat - I put the lanyard of my waterproof phone pouch round my neck and push the phone down my inner shirt

Checking the chains

As well as PicoMicroYacht voyaging I enjoy being a member of a sailing club. The other day  I was helping check the club moorings, having a larger boat on one of them.

The moorings have buoys attached by chains to large concrete blocks embedded in the mud at the bottom of a creek. The chains wear out either due to chafing or rusting and have to be checked regularly.

It is a muddy business, involving using a barge to winch up the chains, and sometimes going overboard to dig down into the mud.

To get to the barge we rowed down the creek in a small dinghy, trying not run aground. We then  manoeuvred the barge into position using oars and started checking the chains.

All of this took me back in my imagination to a bygone era of hand operated barges, used throughout the ages.

A river landscape with figures in a ferry, barges and rowing boats 
Salomon van Rusdael  ca. 1644


Finding the swatchway on the way to the barge