The gallery and script document Mulliontide as it unfolded along the coastal route from Poldhu Cove to Mullion Cove. The script combines spoken texts, memories, songs, actions and invitations for participants, together with the local knowledge and stories that informed each station. Read alongside the photographs, it provides a record of the performance while suggesting something of the experience of walking it.

Welcome: Sand Dunes – Poldhu Cove

“Let’s Walk.”

Follow the flag made by the Mullion WI.

Louise Ann Wilson

Welcome to the gallery documenting Mulliontide, a performance-walk from Poldhu Cove to Mullion Cove in Cornwall, created by Louise Ann Wilson in collaboration with local residents. In different ways, these people had deep feelings for the place and landscape in which they lived and worked, and knew it intimately. Many had adapted to change, or helped others to adapt.

The performance focuses on this much-loved coastal landscape and explores the places where land, sea and people meet. It notices the effects of tide and time, acknowledges deep feelings for place, and recognises the challenges of change—both personal and within the landscape.

Inspired by significant landmarks, objects, animals and plants “which everyone from this area knows”

the Mulliontide flag was designed and made by the Mullion Women's Institute Arts and Craft Group and incorporated:

Mullion Cove harbour, a sea view from a memorial bench, a sunset, a chough, herring fish,

gulls (Mullion's symbol), a fishing boat, the Cornish flag, heather, gorse and tamarisk.

Station 1: Beach and Surf – Poldhu Cove

“What do you expect?”
Prepare to adapt. The challenges of change.

Saul Ridley, Specialist Palliative Care Nurse

My work requires me to adapt constantly. Whether that's month to month or minute by minute – when people are told they are incurably ill, they and their families change... because they have to adapt all the time to progression of their disease, their treatments. It goes wellness – deterioration – death.  And that is some challenge.  Easier for some than others, but even the strongest/sternest/bravest souls can crumble over the most 'minor' of details – seemingly insignificant or inconsequential details can have huge impacts. (Saul Ridley)

Station 2: Wooden Bench – Poldhu Care Home

“I came… I was… I love… I worked… I moved… I had to… I used to… I still feel I could.”

Residents’ stories.

Marie  Withers: I had forty years as a general nurse.

Moving here was the hardest most traumatic decision I’ve ever had to make. I accept.

Vera Wilton: I was the county officer for the Army and Air Forces Welfare.

I’m crazy about the sea. I could sit for hours looking at it.

Evelyn Sly: I used to teach dancing in London, I had a studio.

I love the cliffs, they are wild. I love the view from here, the heather along the cliffs.

Muriel Woods: I worked for the Treasury in the Cabinet Office and at Horse Guards.

I used to body board in the sea at Polurrian Cove. The sea was cold, I like the cold.

Harold Potter: I was born in Cumbria in 1923. I left home when I was 14 to work on a bigger farm.

In Cornwall I lived in St Buryan and became the postmaster.

When I kick the bucket I’ll have my ashes scattered in Mardale, Cumbria.

Elaine Hicks: I used to swim every day at Portreath. I liked the sea, the waves.

My husband was very skilled, a qualified dentist. But I used to beat him at swimming.

I still feel I could swim. I don’t like to be told I’m past it.

Sidney Francis Jenkins (Francis): I was a 4th generation farmer in Helston. I farmed sheep, cows and pigs.

I haven’t done nothing else. I could build a Cornish Hedge. 

Station 3: Crumbling Cliff and Diverted Path – Poldhu Point

”It’s not just a one off, it’s happening all along the coastline.”
Unstable Landscape. Adapting to change.

Justin Whitehouse, Countryside Manager, Lizard and Penrose, National Trust

Gail Lyons, Russ Stanland and Charlotte Douglas of The St. Mellanus Singers

The White Rose

The first time I met you my darling

Your face was like the red rose

But now your dear face has grown paler

It's as fair as the lily white rose.

I love the white rose in its splendour

I love the white rose in its bloom

I love the white rose, so fair as it grows

It's the rose that reminds me of you

Station 4: Kissing Gate – Meres Cliff

“She returned home and her house was gone.”
Sharing concerns for the seasons, the birds, the fish and the animals.

Wendy Williamson, local resident and walker of the cliffs

My name is Wendy. I have walked the cliffs by Poldhu and Pollurian Coves for 26 years. I am often worried and thinking about the rubbish and mostly plastic rubbish all around and the fate of the sea creatures and birds.

A very old lady (a neighbour of mine) had a great idea. She knitted a bag from strips of plastic which were cut from Tesco’s carrier bags. She sold it from my husband who gave it to me for a present at Christmas. It is called my Nelly bag (after its maker). One day I heard that travellers were coming from Poldhu so I filled my special plastic bag with chocolate fish and I went out to meet them. I gave to each a little fish. Chocolate fish are safe to eat I said, but what abut the fish swimming in the sea? Are they safe to eat? As we walked together, we noticed the bright flowers, which linger into the winter. Here in Mullion we put bright coloured flowers into the Advent wreath, along with the holly.

Then we came to a craggy cliff above Polurrian. We looked across the bay and saw houses with red roofs and I had to tell these travellers a sad tale. A little girl (friend of mine) used to live in a house like that. One day (1st day of Spring) when she was 8 years old she came running home from school happily as children do, only to find the whole front of her house had crashed into the beach below. As she watched, the cliff seemed to rear up. Black mud squelched out, the cliff shrank, the house twisted and groaned and went crashed onto the rocks below. 

Station 5: Sand and Sea – Pollurian Cove

“Feel the sand, the sea, the cold.”
Uncertainty, you don’t know which way it’s going to go. The importance of truth.

Saul Ridley

In my work I have to take risks all the time – you never know when someone is going to ask you whether they will still be alive at Christmas… and you become acutely aware of their childrens' eyes and ears locked on to your behaviour and your answer. The only right answer is the truth, even though the books teach you to deflect that by asking the questioner why they asked it, or what they think! Uncertainty is often the hardest aspect of living with incurable progressive illness... it causes more distress than the truth, but without the essence of truth, my relationship with my patients and their families becomes yet another hurdle, or block, instead of something honest. Some relationships come together, then drift apart... I can see how and why, but often couples don't... it's too painful... This emotional divergence is practicing 'being apart' knowing what is to come. But what holds families together is honesty... the truth. 

This place is so beautiful I've had 2 patients choose it as the place they'd like to die... I even shot a 'goodbye' video here – a few years ago from a 30 something old mother to her 2 small children, telling them about her because she knew they would  never know  who her first love was, what her first single she bought was,  and what first attracted her to their father....  

And let’s remember that Wordsworth urged us all to travel through landscapes in order to feel emotions that might benefit our souls... we all have those 'special' places… Now let’s get our shoes and socks off and go paddling in the sea... really feel how cold it is... be alone in your togetherness here, and listen to your inner self examining how nurtured you're feeling… (Saul Ridley)

Station 6: Remains of Two Lost Houses – Pedn-y-ke 

“Similar landslips are occurring all along the coast.”
Fragile coast.

Justin Whitehouse

The White Rose

You're as fair as the spring, oh my darling,

Your face shines so bright, so divine

The fairest of blooms in life's garden

Oh lily white rose you are mine

Chorus  

I love the White Rose in its splendour

I love the White Rose in its bloom

I love the White Rose so fair as she grows

It’s the rose that reminds me of you

Station 7: Love Rock – Carrag-Luz, Polurrian

“Dead Man’s Bells – like summer snow.”

Bud, bloom, seed: Sea Campion drawing by botanical artist Diana Davis

Enjoy walking this cliff-path and noticing the wild flowers.

Enjoy walking this cliff-path and noticing the wild flowers.

Sea Campion

Silene Uniflora (maritima)

Family: Caryophyllaceae

Related to the Carnation

Flowers: March-July (on the Lizard)

Habitat: Cliffs

“Sea Campion should never be picked for fear of tempting death.”

Due to the milder climate on the Lizard, the flowers appear (although in less abundance) in colder months. I have seen and photographed them in March. Their leaves are fleshy to retain moisture, a defence against the salty sea spray.

Station 8: View of Mullion Cove Harbour – Henscath Head

"After the storms it was a scene of devastation. When it goes it will be a sad day."
Storm, damage, repair: photographs 2014-2015

by Bob Felce (Mullion)

Standing on Henscath overlooking the Harbour you can see almost all the history of the Cove in a full circle. Due to the stormy conditions and the loss of ships and lives in 1868 the first plan was put forward for a Harbour of Refuge but it wasn’t followed through due to cost. However in 1890 construction began to create the current harbour, financed by Lord Robartes at Lanhydrock. In 1895 the second, south pier was built to create the full harbour. 

During the Second World War the end of the south pier collapsed and in 1945 the National Trust were gifted the Harbour Cove and Island which they repaired and still maintain and manage. The harbour continued to be damaged and repaired. In 2013 and 2014 a series of major storms damaged the whole harbour and there were doubts that it would be repaired. Repair was finally completed at Easter 2015 but there are always doubts that the violent storms might return. Its future is now always in doubt.

Robert Felce, Mullion.

Station 9: Memorial Benches – Mullion Cove 

“Loved and remembered everyday.”
Take time to reflect 

In Memory of Mary Authers. (Nee Exelby 1911-1994)

In Loving Memory of Travis Griffiths 1927-1996.

A Dear Husband, Father and Taid

In Memory of Lee Rendall. Taken 16th September 2002. Aged 16.

Loved and remembered every day

In Loving Memory of Sheila Valentine Burbridge (Formerly Ross, Nee Finch) 14:2:34-17:6:85.

Deeply Missed by her Children, Friends and Family

In Memory of My Husband Karly (Honey) Deis

Station 10: Closed Path – Mullion Cove

“Years pass by so quickly.“
Unstable cliff.

Gail, Russ and Charlotte

The White Rose

Years pass by so quickly, my darling

Each makes you more precious to me.

But long may we grow close together

Oh lily white rose cling to me.

Chorus

 I love the White Rose in its splendour

I love the White Rose in its bloom

I love the White Rose so fair as she grows.

It’s the rose that reminds me of you.

Station 11: Stone and Concrete – Northern Breakwater 

“An honest repair.”  
Options: breakwater, maintain and repair or managed retreat.
Justin Whitehouse

Station 12: Barry Mundy’s Scallop Shells – Northern Quay

“It’s a testament to the men that built it.
The need to preserve the harbour."

Barry Mundy, 5th generation fisherman

The last five generations of Mundys, we’ve been fishermen here in Mullion.  My great great grandfather started fishing here in 1830. That’s well before the harbour was built, as you see it today. He was involved in the Pilchards, and in the summer months they were catching crabs, lobsters and crawfish in the traditional willow lobster pot. He was lost in a tragic fishing accident. He was going to Porthleven in 1872 with two of his sons and they were drowned.

My grand father left school in 1887 and started to work on the project of building this harbour. His job, as a 12 year old, was to take all the chisels from the stonemasons from the cove here up to the blacksmiths in the village to be sharpened.

When you look at that structure it’s been there for 120 years. They wouldn’t be able to build a structure now because they’ve lost the expertise in stonemasonry. The amount of storms that pounded that harbour wall, if it’s up to me it should be maintained as a testament to the men that actually built it. It needs a regime of maintenance. When I say maintenance I mean going along each year picking out the lose pointing between the granite sets and the stonework and repointing that. You’re not talking about any great deal of money, pennies really compared to the repair you’d have to do if it falls down.

It seems like the Trust are doing the right thing. They’ve just had a company down here from Devon and they’ve done some repairs and they’ve also done some maintenance. If that’s kept up then I see a bright future really for the harbour.

I’m fully aware that in life, in general the ‘Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away’. It is a possibility that we get what they call the one in 200-years storm where the harbour wall would be completely obliterated. Well then, you wouldn’t expect anyone, the National Trust or any other organisation to re build it because it just wouldn’t be viable. So, at that point the lord would taketh again. But, in saying that I think we could hang on to it for generations to come.

Flotsam and jetsam collected by Hannah Hawkins

2 Wooden battens + staples

1 Wooden plank

I Tree trunk

1 White painted with nail

5 Small driftwood

1 ¼ Tree trunk

1 Large fibreglass green board

1 Fabric with ropes

2 Shorts bits rope

2 Shells

2 Broken wood with nails

1 Blue plastic lid top

1 Orange plastic stick + ropes

1 Blue plastic hose part

1 Long piece wood + nails

1 Blue webbing

Found after Storm Imogen:

42 Driftwood

123 Various coloured plastics

Various rope bits

136 Bits/bobs/allsorts

2 Large thick heavy wood

1 Large piece of white plastic

1 Very long piece of heavy wood

1 Long walking stick size wood

Station 13: Jonny Pascoe’s Fishing Boat ‘Laurie Jean’ – Slipway

“It’s a generational thing – it’s in my blood. It’s my home port.”

The future of fishing out of the cove.

Jonny Pascoe, 3rd generation fisherman

Hello, my name is Jonathan and I’m a 3rd generation inshore fisherman. My father and grandfather both fished from Mullion Cove. I first started going out fishing with my Dad when I was around 7 or 8 years old, mostly in the summer holidays. From that moment on it has been very much “in my blood”, a strange term you hear lots of fisherman worldwide, which for me sums up a deep personal connection and familiarity with the sea and fishing it.

For any Fisherman a Port, Harbour or Cove is their refuge. Their haven. Their home. That’s Mullion Harbour to me. The walls symbolise the protection it offers and its familiarity from my childhood. It has never been the easiest harbour to work from. The powerful and unpredictable Atlantic Ocean lies just on the doorstep and any prevailing westerly wind can make fishing tricky, bringing risk to boats, lives and gear. The damage that the harbour has taken over the years a stark reminder of the power and respect the sea deserves. I could take the boat to nearby harbours such as Newlyn, Falmouth or Porthleven but losing that connection I have with the Cove. This is my homeport. Whatever happens I will always be deeply connected to this place and my family’s history within it, with fond and unforgettable memories of my home, Mullion Cove.  

The St. Mellanus Singers

The White Rose

Now I am alone, my sweet darling,

I walk through the garden and weep,

But spring will return with your presence

Oh lily white rose, mine to keep. 

Chorus

I love the White Rose in its splendour

I love the White Rose in its bloom

I love the White Rose so fair as she grows.

t’s the rose that reminds me of you. 

Station 14: Rock and Tide – Cave

“Let me help you through.”

Changing vistas.

Saul Ridley

Some changes are gradual; very slow, without you barely noticing ... Others come out of nowhere, like taking the wrong exit at a roundabout! Others still are seen, anticipated, engaged with, and leave people feeling empowered and strong. 

In specialist palliative care we try to do the latter - we help people 'through a tunnel'; the tunnel being the dying journey.  But people can easily become preoccupied with the tunnel - therein lies dangers, and people can get feel stuck. Usually , the reason for that is simply  fear. Fear of what the landscape of their life is going to look like on the other side. There is no 'right or wrong' life (or landscape) on the other side... it's just different. Sometimes dramatically so, sometimes only slightly... but different it definately is. All has changed… Do we just accept it, or do we do all we can to hold on to the things that keep memories alive...? At what cost... to ourselves... to our loved ones... to the memory of the deceased ? 

I really want you all to feel the experience of going from one place to another - like you have this morning... but in condensed form... Let's go into this cave - and realise it's a tunnel- we are going to the other side, with no idea of what is there... feel how uncomfortable that can be.  The journey itself, in the dark, over rocks, through puddles that you have no idea of the depth... And maybe when you're almost through, remember to look over your shoulder, back to where you came from... that is so often overlooked, forgotten...

Station 15: Sandwiches, Heavy Cake and Tea – Porthmellin Tea Rooms

“My favourite place? It would be here.”

Refreshments hosted by the Pearson family.

Welcome to Mullion’s oldest family run café. 

Is there a place in Mullion Cove that is special to you?

Well everywhere but it would be here, the tea room.

It would be here because of my Mum and my Gran.

There are so many lovely places but it would be here.

                                             Joanna Cockings. 

My mother and father, Kitty and Basil, started the café in 1947.

My grandfather, Jim (Jimmy), was a fisherman. His father Tom was the cobbler, he used to make shoes and mend them. 

My grandfather bought this house. It was a fishermen’s loft. Later, this part of the house belonged to my father.

He was in the army. When he left he and Kitty decided to open a café, and that is how it came about.

Patricia Pearson

Calm is The Sea

Calm is the sea, no wandering breezes

Disturb the stillness of the deep

The twilight slowly darkens o’er us

And lulls the weary world to sleep

And lulls the weary world to sleep

Calm is the sea, the tide advancing

Upon the strand in silence stills

It slowly fills the little harbour

And lifts and moves the fisher keels

And lifts and moves the fisher keels

Calm is the sea, the lights of heaven

Are shining on its quiet breast

Oh troubled heart! The love eternal

Looks down on thee, believe and rest

Looks down on thee, believe and rest

Photographs of Mulliontide in October 2016 by Andy Hughes.

Copyright Andy Hughes / Louise Ann Wilson Company Ltd.

Following the performances in October 2016, I created Mulliontide: A Guide for Walkers so that others could experience the work beyond the live event. The guide follows the coastal route through fifteen stations, introducing the residents whose memories, words, photographs and songs shaped the performance, and inviting walkers to immerse themselves in the landscape through a series of actions.

Further information about the publication, including availability, can be found in the Books section of the website.