Sunnyside Studio

The sea wall stretches for half a mile or so in front of Filey. It curves out at the top to throw the breaking waves away from those promenading above. With the wind more onshore, I remember, a high tide promenade was much enlivened by wave dodging.

Another memory: as the tide advanced across the sand on a busy summer day, all the games of beach cricket, picnics, sand castle building and sunbathing were slowly compressed into a narrow strip under the sea wall. Eventually the waves were reaching the base of the wall and a stream of people who had left it too late would paddle along to the exits carrying their shoes.

Out of season Filey is not too much different from in season. Nothing closes, there are just less people around. In summer the beach in front of the town can get crowded on a hot day, but with eight miles of sand available, even then, it is easy to find an empty stretch.

This is not a place to come suffering from vertigo! The cliffs rise 430 feet, vertically from the sea.

There are very significant colonies of sea birds breeding here. Every tiny ledge is occupied by a nest site and the air is alive with moving shapes as birds come and go, filling the air with a continuous startling sound. There are not a huge number of species, we saw (or thought we saw - not being tremendous experts) gannet, kittiwake, guillemot, herring gulls and an obscure black bird that was either a raven, jackdaw or smallish crow. What is overwhelming is the number of birds and the noise they make.

There are observation sites located at intervals where the line of the cliff edge turns and it is possible to look straight down, if you dare.

It is late autumn and the opportunity arises for a few days away; somewhere nice where we can relax in familiar surroundings. High on our list of such places is Filey.

With a low sun lighting up the spectacular gullies in the soft cliffs behind, one of the few remaining cobles is hauled out the water with a catch of shellfish. This is a scene we have observed countless times before, but always stop and watch it again. There was a time when two hundred such boats worked from Filey, powered by sail and hauled by horses in and out of the water. The bay must have been full of sails. Perhaps we watch because we are not sure the boats will still be there next time.

On a pleasant sunny November day, we set out to walk from Filey to the bird sanctuary on Bempton Cliffs. Between Filey and these precipitous chalk cliffs, the beach is backed by glacial till. This soft material is being eroded and is slipping into the sea at an alarming rate. It is possible to walk along the beach or along the top of the gently sloping cliffs, but between the two is a jumble of gullies and landslips, thickly clothed with an almost inpenetrable thorny scrub. Apart from a few holiday camps where cracked, crazily tilted tracks run down to the beach, it is difficult to move between the high and low routes.

We took the high road and enjoyed this view back to Filey across the bay. On the beach below are the remains of the concrete defences built in 1940 which blocked the entrance to a wide gulley from a possible German seaborne assault. Filey Brigg juts out behind the town and further still the outline of Scarborough Castle and perhaps even Ravenscar beyond that can be seen.

A day's work over, the coble is dragged up onto the jetty until the next time.