A Slow Morning in a Fishing Harbour

Before the Tide Turns

The best mornings in a British fishing harbour start before you feel ready for them. Arrive at the quayside around half an hour after first light, when the sky is still the colour of wet slate and the only other people about are the ones who have a reason to be there. Parking is usually free at that hour, though you may need to move the car by nine if the seafront turns into a pay-and-display. Take a coat, even in July — the wind coming off the water at 6am has a bite that lunchtime never warns you about.

Find a spot near the fish market or the slipway and just stand still for a few minutes. There is a rhythm to a working harbour, and it takes a while before your ears tune into it.

Reading the Boats as They Come In

Not every boat lands at the same time, and knowing what you are watching makes the difference between a pleasant blur and a proper morning. In most small harbours you will see three sorts of vessel:

• Potterers and netters — small under-10-metre boats, often back by dawn with crabs, lobsters, or a few boxes of mackerel. These are the ones worth lingering for, because the skipper will usually talk to you while he sorts his catch.
• Beam trawlers and scallopers — bigger, noisier, and often landing mid-morning after a night or two at sea. Their crew are busy and you should keep well clear of the crane.
• Day boats and angling charters — not commercial landings at all, but they clog the pontoon early and give the place its bustle.

Watch where the crew throw their lines before the boat even touches the wall. If a skipper is warping in with a stern line, stand back from the bollard. If he is coming alongside with fenders out, you are safe enough to lean on the rail a few metres away.

The Chat at the Slipway

Skippers are not unfriendly; they are simply busy. The trick is to ask a question that is easy to answer and does not hold them up. “Good night?” works. “What have you got today?” works better. Nod at the boxes and they will often tell you more than you expected — the state of the grounds, the state of the weather, the price the buyers are offering this week.

Listen for the local names. A harbour on the Yorkshire coast will talk about crabs and lobsters; one in Cornwall or Devon will talk about hake, monkfish and cuttlefish; a Scottish port will mention langoustines, haddock and squat lobsters. Buying a single crab or a bag of prawns straight off the boat is possible in many small harbours, but ask first — some skippers are contractually bound to sell the whole shot to the market and cannot sell to you, no matter how polite you are.

The Bacon Roll Beside the Incoming Tide

By now the smell of fried onions from a harbourside cabin will be impossible to ignore. Most working ports have at least one, and it will open at an ungodly hour for the crews. Look for the one with a queue of men in oilskins and you have found the right place.

Order the bacon roll. Add a fried egg if you are feeling brave, and a mug of tea, not a coffee — the tea is usually better and always cheaper. Eat it standing up on the wall, or sit on a bollard if the paint is dry. Watch the tide come in over the mud and the moored dinghies lift one by one from their keels. It is a quiet pleasure, and it is the whole point of the morning.

A few practical things worth knowing:

• Cash is still king in small harbour cabins. Take a tenner in coins and notes.
• Opening times are unofficial and depend on the catch. If the boats have not landed, the cabin may not have opened.
• The best roll is usually the one the crew are eating, not the one on the specials board.

After Breakfast: A Short Walk, a Short Sleep

Once the tide is well in, walk the length of the harbour wall. On the seaward side you will often spot cormorants drying their wings, and on a clear morning the light on the water is good enough that you will want to stop more than once. Ten minutes along the front you will usually find a chandlery, a lifeboat station with a small display, and a bench looking back at the fleet. Sit on the bench. That is the second-best bit.

Back at the car, you will probably smell faintly of diesel and bacon, which is the correct scent of a good harbour morning. Drive home slowly. You have done nothing particularly productive, and that is entirely the point.

Practical Notes for Your Next Harbour Morning

• Timing: aim to arrive half an hour after sunrise. Check the tide tables — a falling tide means more boats landing, a rising tide means quieter quays and better light.
• Kit: warm layer, waterproof coat, decent boots. Harbour walls are slippery even when dry.
• Manners: never cross a rope, never stand between a boat and the crane, and always ask before taking photographs of a crew at work.
• Buying fish: if there is a market, it usually opens to the public after the trade buyers have had their pick — often around 9am. Take a cool bag.
• Parking: move the car before the seafront meters kick in. It saves a fine and keeps you in goodwill with the locals.

Do it once and you will understand why so many people, given a free morning and a coast within an hour, choose the harbour over the beach.