Seal of Approval - Part One by Sophie Deakin
Image by Lydia Altman from Unsplash
The first entry of a three-part creative non-fiction series by third-year student Sophie Deakin centred around the history, folklore and natural beauty of the Cornish fishing town of Looe.
My name is Nelson and I am the spirit of Looe Harbour.
That is the role of the statue, you see, and for now, this harbour is mine. Mine to watch, to observe, to behold. After all, there is no beauty in that which is not first beheld.
Every day and every night I sit on my rocks and I watch. I note the fishing boats as they leave, and I count them back in when they return. Sometimes, they go away for days and days and stay in somebody else’s harbour. But, that’s okay. So long as they know they can always come home eventually.
It’s not such a lonely life, standing vigil at my post. Well. Sometimes it is lonely, but I’m not alone. Not always. There are others, you see, other spirits who wander these old lands, who swim amongst these ancient waters. The White Hare who warns of approaching storms. The Long-Fingered Man of Looe Island who guards his final resting place. The Cock Crow Stone who heralds the new dawn. You may not see us often, you may not see us at all, but we are here. We are watching. This ground is holy, the land of Saint Anne—patron saint of sailors and protector from storms.
***
To those acquainted with the twin towns of East and West Looe, Nelson is a familiar figure. Immortalised in sculpture since 2008, Nelson was a grey bull seal who often frequented the island and the harbour, especially when the fishing boats were coming in with a full catch. Many inhabitants of the town fondly remember seeing fishermen throw mackerel over to Nelson, and watching as he frolicked happily among the waves. Sadly, Nelson passed away in 2003 and his presence was greatly missed within the community. His statue is located on the rocks of Pennylands, where his obituary is engraved in marble and has become a familiar landmark to tourists and locals alike.
The Cock Crow Stone, too, is a well-known part of Looe Harbour. Though many know it simply as the ‘white rock’, it is said that upon hearing a cockerel crowing in the morning, the white-painted rock at the mouth of the river will turn three times on the spot.
The White Hare of Looe is said to be the spirit of a young woman spurned by her lover, a fisherman. When lovers quarrel or a storm brews in the air, she is purported to race up West Looe Hill, from the Jolly Sailor Inn to Talland Bay, in the form of a small white rabbit as a warning to all those who see her.
The Long-Fingered Man is said to haunt Looe Island, where his skeletal remains were buried many years ago. Some say his presence is accompanied by a soft, glowing blue light.
And finally, the old bridge that joined the two towns (now no longer standing) used to hold a small chapel dedicated to Saint Anne. A newer church partway up West Looe Hill (now converted into housing) was also dedicated to the patron saint of sailors.
Edited by Tia Jade Woolcock