Looks Fairly Safe to Wak Out to the Lighthouse - Right? Wrong!
A good few year's back, in the late 1990's, I decided to make the most of a very low tide and head out to the Mumbles Outer Islet. I had never walked out to the islet before, having always been afraid of getting stranded there by the incoming tide. That day, however, I felt brave and, seeing that there was already a group of teenagers out on the inner islet, I decided to take a very quick look around the Outer Head. (Although I had no idea of the tide times and I knew that the tide sweeps in at an angle and its progress is hidden from view on the outer islet, I thought - wrongly as it turned out - that so long as I kept an eye on the teenagers and made my way back to the shore at the same time as them, then my safe return was assured.) And so off I toddled, merrily singing away to myself, out past the inner islet and out to the mysterious Mumbles Outer Head - a land I had never before explored and have since never quite picked up enough courage to investigate again.
I literally raced out to the Mumbles lighthouse and round the various WW2 defence buildings located out on the outer islet - which was a shame as it really was a fascinating, as well as a beautiful location. The sea thrift were in flower, the sun was shining and there really was a hell of a lot out there to investigate. But it was almost impossible to keep an eye on the tide from out there and I soon noticed that it was coming in - fast - and I had lost sight of the teenagers on the inner islet. And so, with great disappointment, I left the outer headland and legged it at top speed back towards the mainland.
Look at All Those Buildings Just Waiting to Be Explored
I literally raced out to the Mumbles lighthouse and round the various WW2 defence buildings located out on the outer islet - which was a shame as it really was a fascinating, as well as a beautiful location. The sea thrift were in flower, the sun was shining and there really was a hell of a lot out there to investigate. But it was almost impossible to keep an eye on the tide from out there and I soon noticed that it was coming in - fast - and I had lost sight of the teenagers on the inner islet. And so, with great disappointment, I left the outer headland and legged it at top speed back towards the mainland.
Whilst the causeway between the outer and the inner islet was still dry, as I rounded the inner islet, I was horrified to discover the tide had beaten me and my route back ashore had been cut off. I had been stranded!
My mind was racing at this point. I really could not afford to be trapped out there on the inner islet, surrounded by water for who knew how long. I had to pick up my children from school in a couple of hours and this was before the day's of the popularisation of mobile phones so there was no way I could get a message to anyone to explain my predicament and get them to pick up my children. The water near the foot of the inner head was fairly shallow but the tide was coming in very fast now and I could literally see the water levels rising. If I was going to wade across the channel, then I would have to do so immediately. In an agonising moment of self debate, I made my decision and stepped into the water...
The Mumbles Islets - Now IslandsMy first few steps were okay. I could see a slightly elevated track beneath the water and believed (hoped) that if I kept along this line I would make it back to land safely. The trouble was, the water was rising at a phenomenal rate and it was only a few further steps before I could longer see my feet. A few more steps and the water level was no longer around my knees - it was nearing my waist. And scarier still, I could feel the sideways swipe of the incoming tide pulling at my legs.
It was at this point - about halfway back to land - when I began to think that I had made a grave attempt in trying to cross - especially given the fact that I cannot swim! The sea was now pulling at my feet as though its very intent was to drag me beneath its surface.
As I continued to wade forward, I saw an old man, standing on Mumbles Pier, gesticulating madly for me to return to the islet. But I was past the point the midway mark now - I was either gonna get swept out to sea or make it to Mumbles Beach soaking wet but alive. There was no other option available to me - who knew how deep the water behind me had now become!
A long time has now past since that long haul through those scary, swirling, waters. I really was very lucky to have made it ashore safely and the embarassment as I climbed from the sea and tried to find a place to dry myself away from anyone who had witnessed my stupidity was a very small price to pay for my survival. A very small price indeed.
Luckily, it was a very hot afternoon and my clothes had dried by the time I needed to head back to Swansea on the bus. Before I returned home, however, I had one last look at the Mumbles islets - now full islands - and saw the group of teenagers I had followed earlier that day all sat marooned, but safe, on the innermost head.
Since that day, I have learned to respect the dangers of the Gower coast. I still can't quite believe that I once put myself in that kind of danger. When you read the news about someone losing their life by trying to swim from Worm's Head etc. after getting caught out by the tide, it's easy to think that it could never happen to you. That you would't be foolish enough to get marooned in the first palce or you would have the sense to stay put and wait for the tide to retreat again before crossing back ashore. Yet, when I found myself in that situation, I let myself down and took the risk. I can assure everyone though, especially my family and friends, that I will never take a risk like that again - once bitten, forever shy.
