Finally holed up at home around 8pm, we nervously prepared for the long wait for high tide at 9pm. A few measly sandbags were all that protected us from the wrath of the sea and wind outside. Would they last? The water rising in the alley outside our house told us ‘nope – absolutely no chance’.
We thought it would probably be wise to move the car from Albert Quay, and on putting the wee on to bed the lights started to flicker. Social media was reporting blackouts in Par and Bodmin so we did get a wee bit jittery, at the thought of rising water in the dark,
Around 8.30pm – 33 minutes to go – the water started sneaking round the tiny gaps in the door. Time for Plan B. Operation Towels at Door commenced.
At this point the wee one wandered downstairs, unable to sleep and started asking for pens (no sense of priority that one)
Peering out the door didn’t help any, but it was impossible not to. And every big wave crashing through the door at the end made us fearful.
But it was when we saw the kayaks and the outdoor bench go for a little float down the alley that we knew things were serious. A few bits and piece we’d not seen for ages started bobbing around too (ah, that’s where that plastic pitcher went, that we’ve never actually used)
The magical 9.03 deadline came and went, and slowly, but surely the water started receding, leaving all manner of rubbish in it’s wake. The brush normally kept against the wall was eventually located under a kayak, and we felt compelled to have a quick sweep (just in case people looking down the alley thought the flood strewn rubbish was the norm – that would never do!)
Closer inspection revealed that the door at the end which we’d hopefully believed was keeping out water had smashed in completely, offering no protection.
Morning couldn’t come too soon!
On the upside, the whole family made the front of the Cornish Guardian this week, doing the school run – sorry, make that paddle. Silver linings … (edit)