Motoring Notes in Devon.

BONDFIELD and I had, on the evening on which my story commences, motored over from the east side of Lyme Bay to Teignmouth. After crossing the toll bridge and climbing the cliff which commands the estuary we stopped for a few moments to admire the view of the bridge and shipping, made exquisite by the sunset. Continuing, we hoped soon to find a road leading towards the sea where a good place for an encampment might be found. A narrow lane to the left was noticed after a few miles, and this we followed down a steep descent to where the lane ends in the village of Maidencombe, which overlooks the sea from the top of a low cliff.

Leaving the car in a farm building, we carried the camping kit and lamps from the car down a steep path to the sea shore. It was now dark, but by the light of the acetylene lamp we could see there was no sand to camp on, so the tent had to be pitched on the surface of a flat rock. After a bathe in the clear moonlit water we made ourselves a good meal, spread our "airships" (which made the hard, rough surface as comfortable as a feather bed) and turned in.

In the morning, after a swim and breakfast, we were sitting on the rocks, when we noticed a man apparently searching for crabs, who after a while came up to us and wished us good day. He said he had done cooking and orderly duty for officers, so we left him in charge of the tent to wash up. Meanwhile we ran the car to Torquay, five miles distant, and, leaving it in a garage, hired a sailing boat. This we sailed back to our encampment at Maidencombe, having told the boatman that we might want it for a week if the weather continued to hold fine.

Loval, our new servant, had got everything in order and as he said that there were better places for a camp a little way along the coast, we packed up and rowed round with all our kit to Mackerel Cove. There we made a much more comfortable encampment and it was not long before Loval showed that he was an old hand at camp life by scooping out an oven in the face of the cliff and roasting a fowl in it. How we enjoyed this rugged place! Its very inaccessibility was an added charm. By land it could only be reached by a scramble round the rocks, impossible except at low tide or by a precipitous, and by night somewhat hazardous, descent down the cliffs. This cove we made our home, enjoying all the delights of sea bathing, crabbing, sailing, and motoring to the full.

The third morning after our arrival at the cove Loval brought a newspaper containing a paragraph which told us that while we were thus quietly encamped we were the unwitting cause of much trouble and anxiety, and had been given up for drowned. I at once went to Torquay and explained matters and found that the boatman had expected us to return to his moorings after each day's sail. Having sat up for us the whole of the night following our departure, he next day informed the police and coastguards of our non-appearance. However, he soon understood my explanation of how the mistake had arisen, and we thought this was the end of the matter, as those on the look-out were soon informed of our return.

That evening one of us, as was our custom, rowed the boat out a short way and anchored her for the night in full view of the tent; and afterwards swam ashore. Next morning, happening to wake at about four o'clock, I sat up in bed and looked out of the tent and was horrified to see that the boat had vanished! Dressing quietly, so as not to wake my friend, I walked round the rocks to the next cove, but still without seeing a trace of the missing boat. I returned to the tent, and rousing my friend, sent him to search the coast in case the boat had dragged anchor and got drifted away. Meanwhile I made tracks for Maidencombe, where I succeeded in waking Loval by throwing pebbles at his cottage window.

I got the car from the farm and set off for Babbacombe Coastguard Station. There we searched for the missing boat, calling telescope and telephone to our aid, all to no purpose. We could, by means of the telescope, see my friend clambering round the rocks five miles distant and also that his efforts had proved as fruitless as ours. Search in Torquay Harbour and enquiries among the " wreckers " there proved equally unavailing. Finally we gave up the quest in that direction and returned to Maidencombe.

On going down the lane to the village we met an aged fisherman, who stopped us and said that he had been sent by the Teignmouth police to say our boat was in the charge of the coastguard there. It was not many minutes before we drew up by the ferry, where I left the car with Loval and crossed the estuary to the coastguard station on the other side. There, sure enough, was our boat, but how had it got there?

A newspaper published on the previous evening had stated that we were still missing, although everyone concerned knew then where we were, and two fishermen, seeing this report, took it upon themselves to "save" our boat during the night, and towed it round to the coastguard station, hoping to obtain salvage.

From The Autocar June 1907.