They Blew up my Rock

They blew up my Rock. And I'm still not happy about it.

It's not really my rock, of course. It belongs to everybody, inasmuch as a rock can belong to anybody. But I loved it, and they blew it up.

Marsden Rock is a chunk of limestone lying about a hundred yards off the mainland (according to my paced estimate). Its height is around a hundred feet (calculated from the length of the Rock's shadow on the sand at a fixed time of day, more pacing, and some basic trigonometry—I could be a factor of ten out for all I know). It's a local landmark and tourist attraction. For most of the day it's surrounded by water, but at low tide it is possible to walk out to it. (We once walked out to it at high tide, but I wouldn't recommend it. We were drunk.) It is riddled with small caves and passages through which the sea runs freely. You can climb through them at low tide; an amazing, and slightly scary, experience.

In the 19th century, steps were erected up the side of the Rock and visitors could climb to the top (where, I believe, refreshments were served). In 1903, a choir performed a choral service from the top of the Rock. I have seen a photograph of this remarkable event—otherwise I wouldn't have believed it! No trace of the steps remain. Today, the top of the Rock is only inhabited by cormorants, kittiwakes, and fulmars. I believe it has the largest nesting population of cormorants in the British Isles.

Sea stacks (as such rocks are called) are quite common in areas where soft cliffs (such as the magnesium limestone at Marsden) erode away. A chunk of the cliff escapes erosion and finds itself isolated, standing free of the cliffs. Of course, the stack itself continues to erode, and Marsden Rock is no exception to this. The Rock slowly but continuously grows smaller and smaller as the action of the sea claims it. In 1911, a particularly massive section of the Rock collapsed. This may be when the stairs were lost; I can't find a record confirming it.

What can I say about my Rock? It's the best place in the world. It's always there. And it's solid, and reassuring, and I love it. I go there to be alone. I go there to think. I go there to write. I go there just to look at it and be amazed by the world.

Then they blew it up.

1996 was a very bad winter in these parts. We had some spectacular storms. During one heavy storm, the Rock's arch collapsed. The entire central section fell out, leaving the Rock in two separate pieces. It was a shame, as the arch was the most distinctive feature of the Rock. But it was kind of cool, too. I never saw the moment of collapse—I wish I had—but I saw the results very soon afterwards. It looked like this:

(These tiny pictures don't really do justice to the scale of the Rock. If you look carefully, you will see two tiny blue smudges at the foot of the Rock; these are people. The shape on the horizon, positioned between the two stacks, is a ship in the distance.)

I didn't mind the arch collapsing. It didn't detract one bit from the grandeur of the Rock. It enhanced it. Something as massive and solid as Marsden Rock could be snapped in two by the action of the sea. Too cool for words. It's nature in action. It's like . . . well, I can't properly describe what it felt like. You have to feel it. You have to stand on the cliffs, with the wind in your face, and look at this solid, safe, reassuring monument—my Rock—split in two. Then you feel it. It's the world, really working, obeying rules that puny humans still don't fully understand. It's something bigger and more complex than we could ever hope to match. It's Important and we're not.

Then they blew it up.

Oh, not all of it. Just the smaller stack. Experts studied it. They thought it was unsafe. The storm had weakened the structure. Without the arch connecting it to the main stack, it might collapse. Fine. I'm sure they were right. So what? It doesn't matter if it collapses. That's just nature in action again. It will be sad to lose it but it will be right. Oh, no. People might get hurt. So put up warning signs! Anyone dumb enough to get within 100 feet of an unstable sea stack deserves all they get. Children might get hurt. If they are too young to read warning signs, why are their parents letting them out? It's not easy to reach Marsden Beach. You have to make a deliberate effort. They can't wander out of their back yard and straight under a falling sea stack. We can't have people dying on the beach, it looks bad. People are supposed to die! This is a natural thing! If a rock falls on somebody then let it fall on somebody. That's how the world works, stop interfering with it, it's my Rock.

So they blew it up. And I will probably never forgive them.

I never saw the demolition, though I have seen pictures. And from an engineering point of view, it was an impressive operation. The former southern support of the arch was reduced to 12,000 tons of rubble. That was in the spring of 1997. The rubble has since been dispersed by the tides. Anyone seeing the Rock now wouldn't even imagine what it once was. It's still big. It's still impressive. It's still solid. And I'm sure the cormorants have adjusted to a slightly smaller nesting area. But it's just not the same. It's still my Rock, but it's not the same any more.

Thanks for listening.

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