Mousehole. Cornwall. Darkness falls. December 2023

A night time visit to Mousehole, (pronounced Mowsuhl), in the peculiar Cornish rain called mizzle, the sort of rain you don't know is there and you don't get wet in.

Through Penzance, the end of the line for the Great Western Railway, formed in 1833 bringing hordes of emmets (tacky tourists in the Cornish language), from the smoke of London.

Beyond the fishing port of Newlyn and after navigating windy country lanes eventually arriving in the quaint village of Mousehole.

I soon found out why we had to park way out of the town and walk for what seemed like fucking ages minutes to set eyes upon this lovely old place.

The first documents relating to the village of Mousehole date back to the 13th century. The streets certainly were not built to accommodate the motor car, I guess the no parking lines are there for the current batch of visitors, though lets be honest it is a bit of a give away that cars can't be parked.

In the 2021 census there were only 544 permanent residents in the picture postcard village, what could go wrong?? GENTRIFICATION.. there are over 600 holiday rental cottages in the village, and many second homes often standing empty for months on end. Sadly quite a common worry throughout Cornwall.

In the summer months I am told, the traffic situation is dire, tourists not understanding the geography of the area causing nightmares on the road for one and all, especially the local tight knit community, the only store and post office closed in 2022, meaning a drive out to nearby Penzance for even the most basic of supplies. Ocado and Amazon must be raking it in!

If taxation is indicative of how prosperous a place is, records from the 14th century, declare tax collected on the number of fishing boats from Mousehole was £5, where as the next nearest harbours taxes ranging from only 60p to £1.30p were collected. (convereted to current UK currency, saves me the chipped fingernails from explaining proper pounds shillings and pence!)

Mousehole's oldest building taken in 1893. This is the Keigwin Arms which was once a Tudor manor house and home to Squire Jenkyn Keigwin.

Squire Keigwin became part of Mousehole's history in 1595 when a Spanish raiding party raised much of the village to the ground. In fact the only building left intact was Keigwin's house. Unfortunately for Keigwin he was not so lucky and was struck by a cannonball and killed while defending the village.

Source

It is said that with the demise of the fishing industry (yes the fault lies with fishing quotas, imposed by faceless unelected eurocrats in brussels and the uk govt's pathetic negotiating skills since Brexit) the harbour lands more holidaymakers than mackerel!

But we are here in the winter months here to see the harbour lights, lets go see.

First illuminated in 1963, run solely by a local committee and funded through donations the Mousehole Harbour Lights are switched on each December, until early January.

The tale of Tom Bawcock and the origin of the lights

Legend has it that around the winter solstice sometime in the 1500's the Mousehole fishing fleet was forced to remain in harbour due to a horrendous storm and rough high seas bringing hardship and starvation to the local people, It was at this point that a local fisherman Tom Bawcock decided to brave the storm.

In his boat, along with his cat 'Mowzer', a magical mystical cat, a singing cat no less, whose soft and calming tones stpped the storm and Tom was able to make a massive catch of fish (no eu quotas here boy) which would save the village

Fully laden making his way back to harbour the storm blew up, the waves grew fierce and the skies turned to black leaving Tom and Mowzer unable to find their way home.

The villagers came to the rescue by standing along the cliff side each holding a brightly burning lantern to guide the heroes home.

Remembered and honoured to this day do you see the harbour lanterns? The strings of lights running along the streets and alleyways............

Time to reflect

Not every story has a happy ending

The tale of Solomon Browne

The Solomon Browne, a lifeboat based at Penlee Point, just around the corner from Mousehole, used to rescue sailors at sea, part of British Heritage, the Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI).

On the night of 19th December 1981 a distress call was sent out by the coaster Union Star, drifting in towering waves and storm force winds powerless with no engines

The Union Star had refused a tow from a tug boat as this would have involved salvage rights.

Failed attempts to lift the eight crew and passengers off ship by a Sea King helicopter from RNAS Culdrose; the conditions made it impossible.

The Union Star drifted closer and closer to the perilous rocky coastline The only hope was the Penlee lifeboat.

Source

The Solomon Browne, crewed by eight men, all volunteers, unpaid, unselfish, was launched. imagine the fear in their hearts: at times their tiny wooden vessel was thrown onto the deck of the Union Star, the conditions were horrendous, waves 60ft high, they persevered. They did their best

"We've got four off"

But rather than turn back to shore, a final heroic rescue attempt was made.

Then, abruptly, the ship to shore radio went silent. The lights of the Solomon Browne disappeared. Further lifeboats and helicopters searched in vain.

At daybreak, the Union Star was found capsized on the rocks and debris from the lifeboat began to wash ashore.

Of the eight brave men whose lives were lost only two have ever been recovered.

The little village was devastated but within 24 hours dozens of locals had volunteered to form a new lifeboat crew.

In Mousehole sadness is still in the air around Christmas time.
To acknowledge the loss, the bravery of these men, on the anniversary of the tragic night the famous harbour lights are turned off.