The sea after a storm can sometimes cough up the most interesting objects.
This 12 foot lump of wood was found whilst walking in the beach after a January storm.
The two suggestions of where the wood came from range from a prop that was holding up a yacht in Penryn and that it was part of the Falmouth wharf in the harbour and that it had come from a fire from 2001. The would be in 19 century coming from when the wharf was originally built and apparently it’s a Canadian pine tree with a very nice red about it.
A friend wanted to take it from the beach to his garden but needed a van. I’m not sure if he succeeded it was very heavy probably needed about four people to lift.
One of the great things I’ve lived by the sea is being able to be surprised by what is washed up on the beach
Falmouth has one of the deepest harbours in the world. It has been a harbour for hundreds of years and many famous ships have visited its wharves. Here are a few photos of the harbour.
Storm Goretti swept across Cornwall on the night of the 8th of January
Strong winds lashed the coast, heavy rain soaked already saturated ground, and the sea turned hostile, with waves crashing over exposed promenades and harbour walls.
In several coastal towns, people woke to debris on roads and many fallen trees. Drivers faced delays where fallen trees and branches and surface water made conditions difficult, particularly on smaller rural routes. Public transport was also affected in places, with knock-on disruption to bus and rail services as the storm passed through. Emergency crews were kept busy dealing with weather-related call-outs, though serious injuries were thankfully avoided.
Many roads in Cornwall were blocked by fallen trees.
Power cuts were reported in a handful of more remote areas, leaving some homes without electricity for several hours while engineers waited for conditions to ease before carrying out repairs. Farmers have also begun assessing damage to land and livestock after intense rainfall caused pockets of localised flooding.
Although the worst of Storm Goretti has now moved on, the aftermath remains. Coastal businesses are checking for damage, and residents are being urged to stay cautious, especially near cliffs and shorelines, as unsettled weather and strong gusts are expected to linger for a while yet.
St. Anthony Lighthouse: The Sentinel of Falmouth’s Eastern Shore
Perched proudly on the rugged cliffs of St. Anthony Head, overlooking the vast blue sweep of Falmouth Harbour, stands one of Cornwall’s most iconic maritime sentinels — St. Anthony Lighthouse. For nearly two centuries, this steadfast tower has cast its beam across the entrance to the harbour, guiding generations of sailors safely past the treacherous Manacles and into the calm waters of Carrick Roads. Its white cylindrical tower, framed by wind-tossed grasses and the restless Atlantic beyond, remains both a symbol of safety and a striking testament to Cornwall’s seafaring heritage.
A Beacon Born of Necessity
The story of St. Anthony Lighthouse begins long before the tower’s first light was kindled in 1835. As early as the 17th century, the Killigrew family — the founders of nearby Falmouth — flew a large red flag from an elm tree on St. Anthony Head. It was a simple but effective navigational signal for mariners. However, this makeshift aid was taken down in 1779, amid fears that invading fleets could use it to navigate the coast.
By the early 19th century, the bustling port of Falmouth had grown into one of Britain’s key maritime hubs. Ships arriving from across the Atlantic needed reliable guidance through the narrow and rocky entrance to the harbour, particularly to avoid The Manacles, a deadly cluster of submerged rocks that had claimed many vessels. In December 1830, Falmouth’s mayor and leading shipowners petitioned Trinity House, the authority responsible for Britain’s lighthouses, to erect a proper light on St. Anthony Head. Their appeal was heard, and a plan was drawn up by James Walker, Trinity House’s distinguished consulting engineer.
Lighting the Way
Construction was undertaken by Olver of Falmouth, and on Easter Monday, 20 April 1835, St. Anthony Lighthouse shone its light for the very first time. The event was celebrated with enthusiasm — “immense crowds” gathered around the newly built tower, with stalls and booths adding to the festive air.
The original light was a marvel of its age. It used eight Argand oil lamps, mounted on a revolving frame fitted with catoptric reflectors, which projected flashes of brilliant light once every twenty seconds. A clockwork mechanism powered the rotation — a sophisticated piece of Victorian engineering that required constant attention from the lighthouse keepers.
A Notice to Mariners issued by Trinity House described the new light as being “readily distinguishable from all other Lights in that vicinity,” thanks to its quick, regular flashes. Its purpose was twofold: to guide vessels safely into Falmouth Harbour, and, when used in conjunction with the Lizard Lighthouse, to help them steer clear of the perilous Manacles reef.
Life at the Lighthouse
In its earliest days, life for the keepers of St. Anthony was both isolated and demanding. The principal keeper and his family actually lived inside the tower, while the assistant keeper resided in a nearby cottage connected by a covered walkway. In 1865, a second light was added — remarkably, it shone from a window in the keeper’s living room — to illuminate the direction of the Manacles. Later, this auxiliary lamp was moved to a small hut just twenty feet from the tower.
That same year, a fog bell was installed to warn mariners during poor visibility. This was no small instrument — the bell weighed two tons, measured five feet across, and was said to be the heaviest bell in Cornwall. It was mounted on the gallery’s front and driven by a complex system of descending weights. During foggy weather, the same mechanism that rotated the optic also tolled the bell four times a minute, echoing eerily across the water.
From Oil to Electricity
By the turn of the 20th century, technological progress was transforming Britain’s lighthouses. Yet St. Anthony’s was among the last to retain its old system of oil lamps and reflectors — long after others had adopted the superior Fresnel lens, which magnified and focused the light more efficiently.
That changed around 1912, when the lighthouse underwent a major modernization. The old reflectors were replaced by a first-order fixed Fresnel optic, and the light source was upgraded to pressure vapour lamps. The new system produced a steady beam that was occulted (or briefly dimmed) every twenty seconds to create a distinctive pattern. To accommodate the massive glass lens, the lantern room itself was raised in height. At this stage, the small subsidiary light was discontinued, replaced by a red sector within the main beam — a warning for ships approaching the Manacles.
The next great leap came in 1954, when electricity reached the headland. The lighthouse was fitted with a 24-kilowatt filament lamp, greatly increasing its power and reliability. At the same time, the old fog bell — now obsolete — was silenced and removed. In its place came an experimental electric foghorn, using thirty-five Tannoy emitters to broadcast its mournful note across the sea. The bell, once the proud voice of St. Anthony’s, was given to Penwerris Church in Falmouth. It sat for many years on the church lawn before being melted down.
Automation and Modern Times
In 1987, after 152 years of continuous manned operation, St. Anthony Lighthouse was automated. Today, its operation is overseen remotely from Trinity House’s Planning Centre in Harwich, Essex. The light — now using modern optics and energy-efficient lamps — emits a white flash every fifteen seconds, with a red sector marking the direction of The Manacles. Its range was once an impressive 22 nautical miles, but in 2022, it was reduced to 12 nautical miles (and 9 for the red sector) to better match modern navigation systems.
Standing 19 metres high, with its light 22 metres above mean high water, St. Anthony’s continues to serve as a crucial guide at the mouth of Falmouth Harbour, also known as Carrick Roads — one of the largest natural harbours in the world. Though technology has changed, the lighthouse remains a constant presence in an ever-evolving maritime landscape.
On the Trail to St. Anthony
For today’s visitor, reaching St. Anthony Lighthouse is an adventure in itself. The walk from the National Trust car park at St. Anthony Head offers sweeping views over Falmouth Bay and the twin castles of Pendennis and St. Mawes, built by Henry VIII to defend the coast. The path winds through heathland and along the cliff edge, alive with seabirds and wildflowers, before arriving at the gleaming white tower overlooking the churning waters below.
While the lighthouse itself is not open to the public, the surrounding area offers plenty to explore. The nearby St. Anthony Battery, built in the 19th century to guard the harbour entrance, still houses wartime gun emplacements and observation posts. Information boards detail the site’s military history, while the views from here — across to Falmouth and out to sea — are breathtaking.
A Lighthouse of Popular Culture
Even those who’ve never been to Cornwall may find St. Anthony’s oddly familiar. Its striking silhouette featured in the opening sequence of the UK version of Jim Henson’s Fraggle Rock, reimagined as the “Fraggle Rock Lighthouse.” The keeper’s cottage, clinging to the headland, was portrayed as the home of the kindly lighthouse keeper from the beloved children’s series. It also made a cameo in Tots TV, another nostalgic British children’s show — a fitting tribute to a building that has long captured the imagination.
Enduring Legacy
Today, St. Anthony Lighthouse remains one of the most photographed spots in Cornwall — a favourite of painters, hikers, and sea-watchers alike. Its stark white tower against the ever-changing Cornish sky is more than a relic of maritime history; it is a living symbol of endurance, craftsmanship, and the eternal relationship between Cornwall and the sea.
As the gulls wheel overhead and the waves crash below, the light continues its steady rhythm — a heartbeat in the landscape — just as it has done since that first Easter Monday in 1835. Whether viewed from the cliffs of St. Anthony Head, from the decks of a passing boat, or across the waters of Falmouth Bay, it remains what it has always been: a faithful guardian of the Cornish coast, and a shining reminder of the human spirit’s ingenuity and perseverance against the vastness of the sea.
If you stand today on Falmouth’s lively waterfront with coffee in hand, seagulls overhead, and the masts of yachts clinking in the harbou. It’s hard to imagine that this thriving Cornish town began as a single manor house. Yet beneath the bustle lies the story of Arwenack, a once grand estate that helped shape one of Cornwall’s most important coastal towns.
Arwenack is more than just a historical footnote, it is the root from which Falmouth grew, and its story is woven through centuries of ambition, rebellion, piracy, and royal favour.
A Name from the Old Tongue
The name Arwenack itself hints at Cornwall’s deep Celtic past. Derived from the ancient Cornish language, it’s said to mean either “the beloved, still cove” or “upon the marsh.” Both are apt. The land here lies between the gentle inlets of the Fal Estuary, once a quiet, marshy haven that would later become one of the world’s greatest natural harbours, known as the Carrick Roads.
It was this geography that made Arwenack both precious and strategic. The sheltered waters offered safe anchorage to ships and easy access to trade routes, but also made it a tempting prize for those who sought control of Cornwall’s coast.
From the de Arwenacks to the Killigrews
The earliest known lords of the manor were the de Arwenack family, recorded as early as the 13th century. When the last of their line, Jane de Arwenack, married Simon Killigrew around 1377, the manor passed to one of the most colourful families in Cornish history, the notorious Killigrews.
From that point on, Arwenack became their stronghold, and for the next three centuries, the Killigrews would dominate both local and national affairs. They were courtiers, merchants, governors, pirates, and sometimes all four at once.
Simon Killigrew’s descendants expanded the estate and built the first iteration of Arwenack House, a grand residence overlooking the sea. It was a fitting base for a family whose ambitions would soon stretch far beyond Cornwall.
The Killigrews: Fortune and Folly
Few Cornish dynasties embody the contradictions of the age like the Killigrews. They were loyal servants of the Crown, yet often lawless at home. The family produced Members of Parliament, ambassadors, and royal courtiers—but also smugglers, pirates, and scandalous socialites.
John Killigrew (died 1567) became the first Governor of Pendennis Castle, the great fortress built by Henry VIII on Killigrew land to defend England’s western flank. A monumental brass to him still survives in nearby St Budock’s Church, depicting him beside his wife Elizabeth Trewennard. He was praised as a man of status and influence, rebuilding Arwenack House into what contemporary accounts called “the finest and most costly in the county.”
But prosperity brought temptation. His son, Sir John Killigrew (died 1584), inherited not only his father’s office but also his appetite for adventure. A notorious figure, Sir John was accused of piracy, cattle theft, and corruption while serving as a Justice of the Peace. He was even investigated for plundering a Spanish ship that had sought shelter near Arwenack, allegedly with his formidable wife Mary Wolverston—known locally as the “Gentlewoman Pirate.”
The family’s reputation for mischief grew. Later generations dabbled in smuggling, feuds, and political intrigue, with Falmouth’s creeks and coves offering ideal cover for less-than-legal enterprise.
A Royal Cause and a Great Loss
By the mid-17th century, Arwenack’s fortunes had become entwined with those of the English Crown. Sir Peter Killigrew (c.1593–1668), a loyal Royalist, earned the nickname “Peter the Post” for his swift service carrying messages for King Charles I during the Civil War. His loyalty, however, came at a terrible price.
In 1646, as Parliamentary forces besieged Royalist-held Pendennis Castle, Arwenack House was destroyed by fire. Once a symbol of grandeur, it was left a ruin—a casualty of the war that reshaped England. Only fragments of the great hall window survived, silent witnesses to its past splendour.
Yet Sir Peter was not a man to accept defeat. Following the Restoration of the monarchy in 1660, he was rewarded by King Charles II with a royal charter to found a new town beside the ruins of his ancestral home. That town would be called Falmouth.
The charter described Sir Peter as “our beloved and faithful subject,” recognising his service to both King and kingdom. He moved the customs house from Penryn to his new settlement and built a parish church dedicated to King Charles the Martyr—a symbolic act of devotion to the executed monarch. When Sir Peter died in 1668, he was buried in that same church, having secured the Killigrew legacy not in stone, but in the living fabric of a town.
The Decline of the Killigrews
The generations that followed could not recapture the old power. Debt, duels, and ill luck haunted the family. The last direct male heir, Sir Peter Killigrew, 2nd Baronet (1634–1705), eventually left Cornwall for Shropshire. His descendants intermarried, died young, or faded into history.
His daughter Anne married Martin Lister of Staffordshire, who adopted the name Lister-Killigrew and tried to preserve the family’s memory. A soldier and amateur historian, Lister-Killigrew wrote one of the first detailed histories of the family and of Arwenack itself. In 1737, long after the family’s fortunes had waned, he ordered the construction of a mysterious stone pyramid on the estate—no inscription, no dedication. It still stands today on Arwenack Green, a silent, enigmatic reminder of a dynasty that once ruled these shores.
A Place of Legend and Literature
Time and ruin gave Arwenack a new kind of power—the allure of legend. Locals whispered that the manor was cursed, that too much ambition and too little grace had doomed the Killigrews to tragedy.
This idea found its way into literature, most famously in The Grove of Eagles by Winston Graham, author of the Poldark novels. Set in the 1590s, the story follows an illegitimate son of John Killigrew, who reflects that “from his time on, there was always a hint of the feverish and the insolvent in our lives.” Graham’s Arwenack is not just a house—it’s a symbol of pride and decline, a mirror of the restless Cornish spirit itself.
Visiting Arwenack Today
Very little remains of the original Arwenack House, though parts of its 15th-century walls survive within a later Georgian building near Falmouth’s waterfront. The nearby Arwenack Green is open to the public, with an impressive tree, lawns, and sea air, watched over by the weathered pyramid built by Martin Lister-Killigrew.
From here you can trace the shape of history: to the north, the bustling quays and cafés of modern Falmouth, and to the south, Pendennis Castle, still standing proud above the headland. Between them lies the story of a family whose ambition birthed a town—and whose name, though long vanished from the peerage, still lingers in the stones, streets, and stories of Falmouth.
The Legacy of Arwenack
In the end, Arwenack’s tale is not one of tragedy but transformation. The Killigrews may have fallen, but their creation thrives. Falmouth, with its art scene, maritime heritage, and global port, is the living continuation of a dream first imagined on that quiet Cornish shore.
Arwenack reminds us that every place we visit carries the echoes of lives lived before us of courage, folly, and persistence. It’s a story written not just in ruins and archives, but in the spirit of a town that still looks out to sea, forever ready for the next adventure.
Falmouth, known in Cornish as Aberfal, is a historic coastal town in Cornwall, UK. Situated on the south coast, it lies at the mouth of the River Fal, which gives the town its name. Falmouth is famous for its deep natural harbour, maritime heritage, and vibrant arts scene. It is a popular destination for tourists, students, and sailors alike, offering a mix of history, culture, and natural beauty.
Where is Falmouth?
Falmouth is located in the southwest of England, about 11 miles (18 km) south of Truro, Cornwall’s only city. The town sits on the Fal Estuary, which flows into the English Channel, and is known for having one of the deepest natural harbours in the world. This strategic location has played a crucial role in Falmouth’s history, making it an important centre for trade, defence, and maritime exploration.
A Brief History of Falmouth
The area around Falmouth has been inhabited for centuries, but the town itself is relatively young compared to other Cornish settlements. Before Falmouth existed, the nearby village of Penryn was the main port in the area. However, in the 17th century, Sir John Killigrew, a local landowner, founded the town of Falmouth to take advantage of the deep-water harbour.
During the 17th and 18th centuries, Falmouth became a major maritime hub. The Falmouth Packet Service, established in 1689, was responsible for delivering mail and dispatches across the British Empire. This service made Falmouth an essential link in global communication for over 150 years.
Falmouth also played a role in military history. During the Napoleonic Wars, its harbour was heavily fortified, with Pendennis Castle guarding the entrance. In World War II, the town was an important base for the Royal Navy, and American troops departed from Falmouth for the D-Day landings in 1944.
Population and Modern Falmouth
Today, Falmouth has a population of around 22,000 people, although this number fluctuates due to its large student community. The town is home to Falmouth University, a leading institution for creative arts, media, and design. The university has brought a youthful energy to the town, with a growing arts scene, independent shops, and lively nightlife.
Falmouth’s economy is now based on tourism, education, and marine industries. The harbour remains active, with commercial shipping, fishing, and leisure boating all playing a role. The town is also known for its sailing events, including Falmouth Week, which attracts sailors from around the world.
A Town of History and Beauty
Whether you call it Falmouth or Aberfal, this Cornish town has a rich history and a bright future. With its stunning coastline, deep maritime roots, and thriving cultural scene, it remains one of Cornwall’s most fascinating destinations. From its days as a vital trading port to its modern role as a centre for the arts and tourism, Falmouth continues to be a place where the past and present meet.
