My connection with what lies beneath: paddleboarding in Devon and Cornwall

Ever since I was a child I’ve felt pulled to the water; I’ve always been fascinated by what lies beneath their ever-flowing surfaces. Growing up in Devon, I had many blue spaces on my doorstep. You could always find me climbing over water-side boulder sat the beach or on the banks of the River Dart. I spent a lot of my childhood gazing into rock pools or the small eddy of a river with my face just centimetres from the surface, trying to work out what I could see below. I was the kid whose parents had to make wear reins so they could hold on to me and stop me from toppling in.

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Now I’m older and no longer held back by reins, my pull towards blue spaces continues but it holds a deeper facet of meaning; their expanse, their energy and the freedom to be amongst an environment that still seems so mysterious provides me with an essential physical and emotional connection to our natural world, compared to hectic land-based lives of screens, traffic and seemingly endless meetings. In this modern age, dissonance with nature and a lack of deeper connection to our landscapes is often an innocuous byproduct of busy, all-consuming lifestyles and the dreaded ‘urgency culture’.    

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I’ve always loved being next to blue spaces but the natural curiosity I’ve felt towards these areas, and my love of exploring them at a more inquisitive level, could only be satisfied by being even closer to them. So, in early 2017, I bought my first paddleboard. I didn’t know anyone else who enjoyed it, but I’ve always been one to jump in and give something a go.

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The joys of being a teacher means that I get frequent holidays from work. During holidays, I often head out on longer adventures around the headlands and coves of Devon and Cornwall’s waters, sometimes for an afternoon, sometimes wild camping overnight on a secluded beach. The sound of the paddle in the water and the gentle lap of waves against the board means that it feels like a clandestine and more intimate way to be amongst the environmentsI’ve loved for so many years.

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In Devon and Cornwall, there are a multitude of different blue spaces to explore - from the expanses of the sea with its hundreds of inlets and coves to rivers and tidal creeks. Paddling quietly through these spaces very rarely startles wildlife so you’re able to feel a closer, symbiotic relationship to everything that surrounds you. You can lose sense of modern time keeping and can navigate this only by the position of the sun or the withdrawing tide.

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On the East Devon coast, verdant ferns reach over the water and sandstone cliffs tower above you. If you’re lucky, an inquisitive seal pops its head up to consider you for a while. I’m yet to see dolphins on one of my paddle boarding trips but I know people lucky enough to have had them surface mere metres from them.  On the estuaries and rivers, you’ll see bright white egrets wading under the shadows of giant broadleaf trees – their twisted roots looking like the mangrove swamps of far-off places. In some spots you’ll glide past wooden jetties which look as if they could crumble into the water at any point. Tiny row boats bob and weave in the current, some sadly long forgotten and starting to rust. If you catch the right morning in the depths of autumn or winter, you’ll also glide alongside the ethereal early morning mist rising slowly from the surface.

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As summer approaches, gazing into the blue green waters of tidal creeks along parts of the RiverFowey or the River Otter will reveal compass jellyfish, some the size of a dinner plate. That’s when I tentatively get to my knees for fear of falling in and being stung! If you head back to the coast and to the Gannel in Newquay or Gara Rock in South Devon, you’ll be greeted by perfectly clear turquoise water spotted with hundreds of minuscule, silver fish.  

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There was one day, a couple of years ago, that will remain in my memory forever. I took my board out for a few hours to explore some of the South Devon coastline. As I paddled around a corner, I saw a perfectly secluded beach. I paddled in thinking I’d spend only a short time there. However, leaning against a sun-soaked rock I sat for 4hours reading, tilting my head back every now and then to take in the warmth of the day and the smell of the sea. The only sounds to be heard were the lapping of the waves and birds singing in the trees above me. For that entire time, it was just me and that beach. It felt like magic. A perfectly aligned afternoon.

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One of the greatest joys I’ve found from being by water is taking quiet moments to feel centred and more connected with it. Moving with the rhythm of the water either sat/stood on my board or floating on my back and looking up at the sky brings a sense of calm I can feel resonate through me for hours after I’m back on dry land.

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I think it’s essential in our modern lives to experience the tranquillity that comes from living with a deeper awareness of the rhythms of the Earth. When out on the water either paddle boarding, surfing or swimming, you have to be in tune with the natural rhythms and energies at play in that environment. You have to be aware of the wind, tides, swell and the general movement of the water. By being more in tune with these rhythms, I think it allows us to tap into a cognitive way of being used for millennia by our ancestors but which we can easily forget about in our day-to-day modern lives. It grants us time for mindful observation. We can gain a greater appreciation and connection to blue spaces, ourselves and the natural pace of our world. It’s a powerful presence – one day you might hear the furious crash of waves against the beach whereas at other times only the gentle flow of a sunlit stream can be heard. There’s something archaic and soothing about allowing yourself to feel grounded in the lifeblood of our existence, because without water and blue spaces where would we be?

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Whenever I need quiet meditative time to think, I always find myself by the water; it gives me the headspace and solitude needed to dive deeper into my connection with self. Being by, or on, blue spaces I have meaningful time to pause – sometimes I use this to just take in the sights and sounds around me and to gain some relief from my very loud working days, whereas at other moments it gives me the mindful observation timeI need to reflect and dive inwards. It was during one of these reflective moments, at a time when I was feeling pretty lost in the world, that I decided to make a life change and move back to Devon after living away for 12 years in a city without many blue spaces at all. I knew I needed to have them on my doorstep again.

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Through exploring Devon and Cornwall’s waters on my paddle board, I’ve developed a deeper connection to these spaces and the ecology within them, I’ve deepened the connection to myself and how I want to live my life but I’ve also found community; I joined a ‘Devon paddle boarding’ WhatsApp group when I decided to move back. The ocean can be a tempestuous beast so it is often safer to go with a buddy. One Saturday, I drove to Hope Cove in South Devon to meet six women from the group for a paddleboarding and camping trip. There was an instant connection. Fast forward 4years and this group of ‘strangers’ have become one of my closest group of friends. We feel incredibly lucky to have found each other, something that wouldn’t have happened had it not been for this leap of faith to change my lifestyle, navigated emotionally by my time spent in blue spaces…and our shared love of the water, of course.

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