Cornish Festivals - Sea, Salt and Sails in Mousehole

Penwith is the area right at the end of the Cornish peninsula, the area where the land ends and there is nothing between Britain and America but the wide Atlantic ocean. It is a land of outstanding beauty where windswept granite moorland is cut into by deep valleys of luxurious and exotic greenery that lead down to sandy, rock strewn coves.

Sometimes the coves are hidden, at other times they shelter tiny, quaint fishing villages. One such village is Mousehole and every two years it hosts its very own Festival of the Sea. Sea, Salt and Sails is a time of wild and jovial celebration of a living made by, and from, the sea. It is a truly Cornish festival held by the Cornish for the Cornish but as always, in the true spirit of this place, all comers are welcome to join in the fun.

Like many of the Celtic societies that inhabit western seaboards life has always been sustained by the sea and it was, for the most part, a hard and dangerous life. But for three riotous days in mid-summer the occupants of Mousehole forget the hardship of the past and enjoy themselves with abandon.

The village is carefully dressed for the occasion with flags and pennants and multi-coloured bunting flutters above every winding street. Brightly coloured flags and banners are very much a tradition of every festival at this remote end of Cornwall and are usually made of silk as it not only flutters gracefully but, because of its silkiness, it does not suffer from wear as much as other fabrics.

Despite this most of the flags and banners are often pretty tatty by the end of the summer so new ones are designed and made every year.

Celebrating the sea and its boats.

For a week or two before the festival begins visiting boats start to seek sanctuary in the little harbour. Ancient luggers with their red sails furled tie up beside old and much loved trawlers that have been reconditioned as sea-going homes and the occasional glossy yacht until the harbour is soon so full that only tiny toshers (small sailing boats) are able to fit in between the bigger vessels.

It's a case of first come, first served and latecomers have to moor round the headland in the bigger fishing port of Newlyn. Then with flags waving, the boats nudging against each other gently in the water and gaudy stalls selling everything from stripy Breton jumpers to kippers, the vicar opens the festival with a few jokes (yes, vicars do that here) and the celebration begins.

Music and song.

The Cornish seafarers have a long tradition of making music and singing. Many villages even have their own male voice choirs and Mousehole is no exception. The Mousehole Male Voice Choir has been going for over a hundred years and enjoys any opportunity to sing whether it's in the pub, the chapel or on the quayside as they do during the festival.

Traditional music of all varieties is always in the air at festival time and being audible all over the village one is irresistibly drawn to seek out the sound. From unaccompanied sea shanties to Cornish bands playing traditional instruments there is always the urge to join in a chorus or tag on the end of the serpent dance as it weaves its way intricately around the quay. The joyous abandon of everyday inhibitions is one of the most seductive aspects of all Cornish festivals ... as well as the freely flowing beer and wine.

The Sea, Salt and Sails festival highlights many of the old skills of a fishing village and its inhabitants, so it is still possible to watch a lobster pot being made or see how mackerel are smoked. The luggers and pilchard drivers, old fishing vessels with large, rusty red sails, are put through their paces, over the harbour wall, in Mounts Bay, racing one another to show off the speed and manoeuvrability that made them indispensable to the fishing industry in the days before diesel.

Everyone's favourite diesel, the Penlee lifeboat, does however call in to be explored and admired and often demonstrates her skills out in the bay if they can find a crew member willing to brave the cold water and float about waiting to be rescued.

The welcome of the Cornish.

As always in Cornwall children are an essential part of this maritime festival and rush about dressed as pirates complete with eye patches and brandishing wooden swords. Others listen open-mouthed to story tellers as they sit on the tiny, sandy beach having bright ribbons braided into their hair and their faces painted as tigers or wizards.

And of course there is always food, most particularly a local artist's own version of paella made from potatoes in an enormous round pan and dubbed tatie-ella. With the addition of peppers of various colours, onions, garlic and no doubt other more secret ingredients it attracts its own serpent as the waiting queue winds across the quayside and along the street.

Closing the Festival until the next time.

Only at the end of the third day, the Sunday, as the sun sets over the headland, is it time to rein in the wildness. It's time then to become more reflective and to observe the more spiritual, perhaps truer, aspect of the Festival. Two of the much-loved local vicars hold a short service to Bless the Boats and all those who sail in them for whatever reason. Heartfelt prayers are said by all and the male voice choir leads the assembled audience in the final hymn.

No-one leaves, no-one sneaks away, everyone is absorbed in this deeply meaningful ceremony at the end of all the jollity and fun. This indeed is a way of paying respect to all those who not only risk their lives at sea to feed the rest of us but also a way of remembering all those who have gone before in other times in pursuit of the same goal. At the going down of the sun, they are all remembered.