BEACH OUT OF REACH

Blue heaven and golden sands - the tourist season's in full flow and my treasure hotspots are definitely out of reach, so I head inland. Digging over sun hardened soil in July is tough, but the promising sound of an electronic bleep in the undergrowth will supply me with enough resolve to endure the inevitable grind. It's going to take some time and I'll probably walk away with a rusty nail, but I've started - so I'll finish.


Too much sun and hard graft .. escaping the discomfort of stinging perspiration my mind wanders back to past expeditions carried out under severely cooler conditions ...


All wrapped up and walking the lonely windswept beach in January a whole world of imagined possibilities unfolds. Thoughts of shipwrecks and ancient cargos colour my intent; but on stooping to retrieve an interesting looking object from an icy clear rock pool, it becomes instantly apparent just how cold the sea is at this time of year. As the bitter bite of the freezing water snaps at my fingers, I often wonder how the stricken sailors of yesteryear ever survived the treacherous waters of the North Wales coastline.

January is the cruellest month and history returns a grim picture. Yet it seems that our forbears were definitely a hardier breed - some people did actually survive the sub zero temperatures of the bitter seas. On New Year's Eve 1845  a brave young lad from Anglesey's Holy Island, single-handedly saved the ship ALHAMBRA and all its crew from certain disaster. Legend has it that he saw the ship heading for the rocks at Rhoscolyn, and knowing the coastline well, jumped into the icy waters and swam out to a rock. He tore his jacket from his body and used it as a flag to wave to the men onboard the ship, directing them around the peninsular to the security of the bay. It's hard to imagine that anyone would be brave enough to do that today - we'd be more likely to film the disaster on the mobile.

BRAVING THE STORM

On the night of October 25th 1859, the coastline saw the worst night in Welsh seafaring history. In what has become known as the Royal Charter Storm, 223 vessels were wrecked and almost 800 lives were lost, but it's probably the luxury steam clipper the Royal Charter that remains the most haunting wreck of them all. That fateful journey from Melbourne to Liverpool should have been a triumphant return for the entrepreneurs who had made their fortunes in the gold fields of Australia - instead, 450 souls perished, along with their money, on the rocks near Moelfre. The Royal Charter carried a bullion cargo of £322,440 in ingots and bags of gold dust, and it's believed that she may have been carrying a further £150,000 in sovereigns which belonged to the passengers. Stories abound of gold coinage scattered far and wide, like seashells, over the foreshore at Lligwy Bay; and to this day Anglesey folklore tells of local salvagers who stored large amounts of sovereigns inside soot blackened kettles, which were hung inconspicuously over the fire, so as to avoid being spotted by HM Customs and Excise.

No-one knows just how much gold from the Royal Charter still remains at the bottom of the sea, everything from cabin doors to candlesticks have been turned up from around the northern shore of Moelfre Head. Clay pipes and coins, glass bottles and shoe buckles are the stuff that dreams are made of - these are the tantalising treasures that will keep you warm when you're wondering why the hell you're out on your own braving the elements.