Perhaps, seventy years ago, Daphne du Maurier sat on the hillside above Frenchman's Creek, or wandered along the high-tide line to absorb the landscape as she researched her novel of the same name. To get here she would have taken the footpath for thirty minutes around the south bank of the estuary and over a hill from the village of Helford.
Since then Cornwall has seen dramatic change, so is the muddy, unremarkable inlet of the 1930s any less secluded or peaceful now? Is it still a home to sea birds hidden by fallen trees and could it still protect an occasional boat escaping from the southwest winds, or the law?
The descriptions of the Cornish landscape that are a defining quality of du Maurier's books serve as a benchmark for how things were several decades ago. A return visit, novel in hand, may reveal much about the direction the county is taking.
Most of du Maurier's Cornish stories were set further to the east along the coast, centred in and around the estuary of the River Fowey where du Maurier spent much of her life. In that sense Frenchman's Creek is an outlier of what has become known as du Maurier country. Named after a real life pirate who roamed the area in the seventeenth century, du Maurier discovered the creek when she and her husband explored in their boat early in their married life.
In the final scenes of the novel the heroine and pirate say their farewells further to the west beyond Lizard Point at Loe Bar which separates a freshwater lake from the sea. The Bar can be reached by walking along an unbroken three mile stretch of sand, either east from Porthleven or west from Gunwalloe Cove, with perhaps a school of basking sharks for company offshore.
If she were to visit now would du Maurier recognise these places? She would certainly see blemishes. The metallic forest of masts where sailing boats are drawn up for the winter in Gweek at the head of the Helford estuary is ugly. From the valley above Frenchman's Creek a pile of big, bright blue plastic sacks of abandoned builders' waste is visible on the old quay opposite, and the rotting hulks of two boats lie along the water's edge, one of them might be old enough to have caught the eye of du Maurier herself. The Culdrose naval air station with its helicopters and jets lies immediately above the valley leading down to Loe Bar.
So there is no escaping the need for vigilance if what remains of Cornwall's rural beauty is to be conserved. But many places are still as du Maurier knew them. The little ferry boat that crosses the Helford estuary sometimes cannot run because the wind is too strong, an inconvenience and yet a not unwelcome reminder that we live with nature but don't control it.
The National Trust path along the Creek is out of sight of any road or building and silent except for bird song. The muted early Spring colours are subtle shades of green marked with brown where the bracken has not yet come to life and yellow where the gorse is flowering. Pairs of egrets swoop and chase each other low over the mud flats and ducks and swans paddle and swim as the tide flows in and fills the river channel.
Note: The Truronian bus company (www.truronian.co.uk) operates services to and from the area. The passenger ferry across the estuary operates from April to October, subject to tide and weather.
For related articles on other parts of Du Maurier's Cornwall see Bodmin Moor and Fowey.
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