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| Levant Mine Ruins, Pendeen, Cornwall, February 2014 |
During my recent short break in West Cornwall, the most visually dramatic evidence of the
region’s changing economic fortunes came at Pendeen, on the coast to the north of Land's End, where I spent an afternoon wandering amongst the remains of the old
Geevor and Levant copper and tin mines. Pendeen was the
first Cornish destination I experienced, being the site of an annual field trip
for first year Fine Art students at Bristol Polytechnic. After all these years, I still respond to the
lack of quaintness or pretention that befit its identity as an ex-mining
village and typify this stretch of rugged coast in general.
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| Geevor Mine, Pendeen, Cornwall, February 2014 |
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| Levant Mine Ruins, Pendeen, Cornwall, February 2014 |
For me, this site
is best approached via Lower Boscaswell, where one passes through a somewhat
bleak housing estate, (built for the post-war workforce at Geevor, I
guess). Beyond this, and an intervening
field, lies the Coast Path and a wrecked landscape of broken filter beds,
ruined buildings and scree slopes, all teetering above perilous cliffs. The waves at Levant Zawn seem angry in any
weather, and somehow redefine the term ‘precarious’.
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| Levant Mine Ruins, Pendeen, Cornwall, February 2014 |
Approached from
this direction, it’s a little while before one comes across the first
information plaque revealing that, predictably, you’ve actually strayed into
another industrial heritage visitor attraction.
Of course, this only really speaks of Cornwall’s changing economy and
current reliance on the tourist Pound/Euro and, thankfully, much of the outdoor
site has been left relatively untouched to slip into fascinating dereliction. Staring at isolated, patches of exposed Victorian
floor tiles and fragmented industrial architecture, I found myself fantasising
about Andrei Tarkowski’s film ‘Stalker’, [1.], and reflecting again on the whole issue of
‘Ruin Porn’ alluded to in Bradley Garrett’s book, ‘Explore Everything’ [2.].
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| Levant Mine Ruins, Pendeen, Cornwall, February 2014 |
Despite that, it was
impossible to resist the call of the picturesque, and to indulge myself in the
effects of reflected sunlight on standing water and the totemic qualities of
dramatic concrete columns. I even
succumbed to the archetypal Cornish motif of the little Victorian engine house
on the road back to Pendeen, (where a National Trust plaque is the real
giveaway). Sue me, - sometimes the
clichés are just too tempting.
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| Levant Mine Ruins, Pendeen, Cornwall, February 2014 |
Ironically, a sense of
perspective on all this was actually afforded at the main site, via
interpretation plaques detailing the famous Levant mining disaster of 1919 and
the harsh conditions endured by the workforce, (including women and children),
at the height of the mine’s prosperity.
They are a reminder that, beyond all artistic affectations and the
perpetual search for a resonant image, real lives were lost, or else lived out
in hard labour, in places like this.
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| Levant Mine Ruins, Pendeen, Cornwall, February 2014 |
Back in Mousehole lies
further evidence of the hardships inherent in this marginal landscape. The loss of 16 lives, being those aboard the
stricken freighter, ‘MV Union Star’,
and the 8-man local volunteer crew of the Penlee lifeboat, ‘Solomon Brown’, in hurricane conditions on 19 December 1981, is well documented, and was a pivotal moment in the village’s history. Coincidentally, my own first Cornish stay
mentioned above, was only a few months later.
Whilst I didn’t visit the actual village then, I do remember the
slightly stunned atmosphere that still pervaded the whole area at the time. One of the lost lifeboat crew, Charles
Greenhaugh, was also landlord of the harbourside Ship Inn, which now carries a memorial
plaque, with the memorable phrase “Greater love hath no man”. There
are more, typically modest memorials up the road at the now empty boathouse
from which ‘Solomon Brown’ launched that
night into truly foul weather.
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| Charles Greenhaugh's Memorial Plaque, Ship Inn, Mousehole, Cornwall |
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Memorials To Those Lost In The Penlee Lifeboat Disaster, Penlee Point
Lifeboat Station, Cornwall |
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| Boat Slip, Penlee Point Lifeboat Station, Cornwall, February 2014 |
Though not always one for tales
of conventional heroism, I never fail to be turned over by accounts of the bravery
and sheer, bloody-minded refusal to back down in the face of impossible
conditions, demonstrated by Coxswain, Travelyan Richards and his crew. They went willingly where no one else could
in an attempt to save lives, and ultimately to their own deaths. Their last message was the matter of fact
observation, “We’ve got four off”, at which point they went back for the remaining four crew members. In the words of Helicopter Pilot, Ltn. Cdr. Smith, USN,
The last few remaining, and
generally elderly, true locals in Mousehole can sometimes have a reputation for
seeming brusque or resentful. If that is
in part due to seeing a once-viable community fragment before an influx of
occasional visitors (guilty) and property price-inflating second-homers, -
perhaps it’s understandable. Indeed, the Penlee
tragedy could even be seen as one of the last times there was anything like an extensive native community capable of cohering around such an event. I do know that, if you were in real trouble, you’d
want people like their lost contemporaries to come looking for you.
RNLI lifeboats are still crewed by volunteers and depend on charitable donations. Think on...
[1.]: Andrei Tarkovski (Dir.), 'Stalker', 1979, Mosfilm Studio.
[2.]: Bradley L Garrett, 'Explore Everything: Place Hacking The City', London, Verso.
[3.]: Quoted in: Nicholas Leach, 'Cornwall's Lifeboat Heritage', Chacewater, Twelveheads Press, 2000.
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