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| Our trip to Seymour Tower |
"Choose life, choose a fooking television...", my old mate Ranjit Dhani used to say to me at Uni, in something that loosely resembled a Birmingham accent. Nothing like the thick Glaswegian drawl he was going for - the quote of course from iconic nineties film Trainspotting - but I got the gist of it!
'Live fast, die young, chase your dreams, enjoy everything that comes your way', was the essence of what he was saying, and it is what sprung into my mind as I got ready to head on out to Seymour Tower last Saturday.
Of course the two were poles apart; one was a tale of class A drugs, alcohol and debauchery, the other about train spotting. No, seriously, it felt like a bit of a "seize the moment" moment when my uncle Terry invited me along to his weekend excursion to the Seymour Tower, and I'm so glad I took him up on the offer.
Along with us on the trip were Terry's two boys Glyn and Ross, Glyn's father-in-law Martin, friend and Seymour Tower guide Kevin, Terry's brother and my dad, Colin and brother-in-law Rob for a lads weekend on the famous Jersey fortification. With the sun shining down upon us on Saturday 23rd June, we set off from Seymour slip at 2:30pm, aka nearly low tide!
Now, I am no Jersey historian or Maritime expert, but I thought I'd just jot down some of my thoughts on the trip, and apologies if I get anything factually wrong here!
The walk was about 2 kilometres (according to Wikipedia) from the mainland to the Tower and, laden as we were with enough food and wine to satisfy 8 incredibly greedy men, it was tough yakka crossing the sand, although maybe not so much for Kevin and Terry, who have negotiated much stiffer challenges in the past, Killy (Kilimanjaro) being one such example.
We stopped often, as much to marvel at the beauty of the rolling Grouville Bay landscape as to draw breath, pictures being taken at a staggering frequency. You can enjoy some of them here:
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| Setting off from Seymour slip |
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| Almost there |
After our own attempts at fishing, raking, crab hunting and er, other pathetic attempts at catching some fresh produce for dinner, it was a relief to discover that Terry and Kevin had planned a five course banquet for us. A marvellous effort.
We returned to the Tower from trawling the beach, as the area surrounding the tower was at that stage, to enjoy a beer and bask on the glorious sunshine. It was also apparent that low tide had now passed, and the sea was rapidly starting to surround us, from every which way
Due to the gullies closer in to the shore line, the sea comes round the tower and eventually surrounds it, cutting incumbents of the Tower off when the water is sufficiently deep.
It was glorious watching this wonder of nature unfolding before our eyes, with Kevin explaining all as it took place. It was certainly a more pleasurable way of spending a Saturday night than watching X Factor for example, although Glyn wasn't entirely convinced by this ascertain!
As the water began to fill in, Ross and Rob set to work with their fishing rods. They were in for a tough night, with not so much as a nibble on their lines, other than the occasional snagged rock.
Meanwhile Terry and Kevin were setting about preparing a banquet which comprised of Garlic Bread, Moules Marinier, Seafood Pasta, Strawberries and Jersey Cream accompanied by desert wine and finally Cheese Board with Port.
By the time the cheese and port were served we had retired into the tower having enjoyed the earlier courses in the evening sunshine - it was a beautiful night to be out at sea in the middle of the English Channel.
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| Ross fishing off the side of the tower |
The night was old and decrepit by now, or was that just us? With beers, 6 bottles of wine, 1 bottle of desert wine and the port all done, a fresh bottle of Amaretto was next up, and went down extremely nicely. So too did a quiz on local history, music trivia and famous events from 1951, the year of Terry's birth of course.
With the group split into Huelin's versus Rob, Martin and Kevin there was only ever going to be one winner, and when the Huey's stormed to victory in the music round, it was no great surprise to hear shouts of "fix" from the opposition!
The estimated time of departure from the living quarters to bed was 1:30am, but that is by no means fact. What is certain is that the whole bottle of Amaretto was downed, and it is therefore impossible to answer with any degree of accuracy that question!
The toilet facilities became a factor at this stage. Up until now we'd been pissing into the wind, literally, but now a bucket on the roof of the tower was our only option. There was also a seat with underpinned bag for the other end in the same place, and negotiating some steep steps up to this makeshift bathroom after a skinful and in unfamiliar, dark conditions was not easy, as I found to my detriment, almost doing myself a mischief on the steps at about 5am!
Morning came and a greasy fry up was desperately required. Bacon, egg, beans and tomatoes were grilled, fried and decimated by the group, before another round of washing up commenced. With no drainage in the tower we had to wash up in buckets having boiled water on the stove. It was long-winded but somehow added to the feel of the weekend.
As the tide crept out towards Normandy once more, plans to return to the mainland began to take shape. With an estimated departure time of 2:30pm agreed, there was time for just one more meal; the remaining cheese from the night before on fresh baguettes and the residual white wine too. A delicious snack just an hour or so after breakfast - we ate like kings.
With the washing up done, sleeping bags packed into those impossibly small bags they come in (there's a knack to packing them which I am yet to master!) and waste - and I do mean ALL waste - gathered up, we began the long trek home.
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| Weary and ready for home |
