After Storm Chandra came the calm. Well, just a day of calm with a 5mph onshore breeze, sunny spells and single digit temps before seasonal services resumed. The artillery was pounding at Lulworth so the west side on Kimmeridge Bay within the MOD firing range was definitely off limits, but it might be nice to pootle along the base of the Kimmeridge cliffs and back. There could be a stormy after-swell, but small waterfalls may be be running too. I even thought it might be a day to sneak round St Alban’s Head from Chapman’s to Dancing Ledge…

I’ve droned on about trying to pin down unlisted Kimmeridge tide times. The short answer, I’ve decided, is Willy Weather. Today a harmless neap tide was rising just half a metre in 8 hours to top out around 2pm. Interestingly, the High Water time moved by 20 minutes from the evening before, which suggests it’s not just some publish-and-forget-it table of predictions.

Hoping to take the scenic route, at Holme bridge the River Frome’s water meadows had spread into a vast lake, submerging the road, long before I got close to the ford, which I read later was 5 feet deep. So after a couple of other attempts, I took the long way round over the flood-shedding Purbeck Hills to Kimmeridge Bay.

On Purbeck ridge the mist clung to the flooded valley bottom.

Coming over the last hill before Kimmeridge village, I realised I’d underestimated the after-swell; the stormy winds and rains may have passed but the seas were still animated.

Overlooking Kimmeridge Bay. Lively.

Down at sea level it looked like it would be a struggle of good timing and luck to get out quick through this surf in a dumpy packraft without getting swamped. I didn’t have my drysuit and as things looked, today was a day for a decked or bailing packraft.
At times the seas seemed to flatten off and you could have scooted out on a paddle board. Then the surf came rolled back in, streaking the Bay with white foam.

There seemed to be look-outs stationed round the bay. How thoughtful, I thought. Who lays that on? Then I realised they were probably contracted by the MOD to make sure sea users kept away from the west side of the bay.

I thought if I could sneak through the east edge of the bay it would be OK round the corner, so I climbed up to Clavell Tower to have a look.

If anything it was even more lively, with the Ledges kicking up the swell for hundreds of metres out. So much for a quiet cruise along the cliff base. Unless I went right out, I’d be forever glancing right to see what was incoming, and on the Ledges, waves can lift up out of the blue without warning.

We tried packraft surfing up at lovely Achnahaird one time, in far more benign conditions with waves at barely knee height. It was a laugh but packrafting today would take some commitment.

Today was a day for the surfers: get in the water and stay in it. Sadly, as I’ve noticed before, watching surfing live is not like a trailer for Big Wednesday. To paraphrase Gregory Peck: “They pay me for the waiting, the surfing I do for free“.
It took me 15 minutes of watching four surfers bob around before I grabbed the shots here of a 15-second ride.

Back at Wareham, a swan was parked in the middle of the Causeway. You can see why they call it the Isle of Purbeck.

Wareham Quay was awash, with barely a foot under the road bridge to the Causeway which was why the river was backing up.

And it was only just possible to reach the station where a bloke was putting in his sea kayak. At least someone got a paddle in today!