Moonraker HVS 5a, Berry Head

I wrote this post some time back (Summer 2012) and actually forgot to post it so here goes! I've also got a video to go with it so once I dig out I'll put it up for your viewing pleasure.

A few weeks ago me and Hannah headed down to the west country to get some climbing done. Despite a dismal week of weather we did get one day and a chance to climb the classic Hard Rock route of Moonraker at Berry Head. Heralded as possibly the best HVS in England, it should be high on any climbers tick list and I can confirm it's awesome!

The Great Cave at Berry Head. Moon raker takes a traverse line to the left and then winds it's way up , finishing up the steep corner.

After watching the weather the previous evening, the forecast looked good for the area of Anstys Cove and Berry Head.  The description in the guidebook, for Berry Head, conjured up images of fantastic climbing in a wild setting - a real adventure

"The massive yawning mouth of the Old Redoubt's Great Cave is one of the most intimidating sections of sea-cliff in the West Country; its tiered overhangs seemingly impossible to breakthrough. However, the rock is some of the most climbable to be found anywhere, and is peppered with jugs and handrails that allow the outrageous overhangs and walls to be scaled. The Old Redoubt holds some of the most sought-after long sea-cliff classics in the UK" - Roackfax West Country Guide

With tide tables checked, gear packed, and a few nerves we set off from our base and made the short journey. Only a few words were spoken until we arrived at the Car park, the infamous sea-level traverse awaiting.  After a few route finding issues, we made it to the gearing up ledges - and the Met office had been correct; we were blessed with a lovely summers day.

A final check of all the gear and we were off, or were we? The start involves a scramble on loose rock to get down to sea level. 1000s of years of evolution scream at you: 'what are you doing - this is bloody dangerous'.  The brave (or stupid?) will be rewarded though.  A few more feet and the climbing is interspersed by big holds and in-situ bits of rope. We were down at sea level with the start of the traverse proper to come.  A seal came over, a mere 6 foot away, to inspect what we were up to. It's crazy when you think about it, some people pay to see this kind of thing, and we got it free - minus the sweat that was now pouring down my back. Was I really going to do this? This traverse is only accessible for a couple hours each day either side of low tide.  An abseil can be made but this all adds to the adventure your about to experience!

10 minutes later and we were almost at the belay.  As you head round the back of cave, things appear fairly benign. However as you head back out on the opposing wall, things become a little more interesting. Soaking wet holds are your first obstacle, having spent most the day under water they certainly won't be dry any time soon!  This general feeling of insecurity is further compounded by the lack of visibility - it's dark, you're blinded by the sun streaming through - turning back could be a good shout right about now but those who persevere will be greatly rewarded.  A section of overhanging wet holds blocked the way, I didn't fancy going for a swim and was starting to have seconds thoughts: we could still escape and live to fight another day.

Hannah wasn't having any of it, with boots removed and balls of steel (figuratively), she waded through and was at the belay. A little ashamed (good job I had 3 pitches of this uber classic to redeem myself) I followed suit and was soon at the belay! The adrenaline slowly subsiding, I set up the belay, sorted gear, and had a final check of the guidebook and was ready to go.

The first pitch consists of a diagonal traverse right from the belay and then up a steep crack, covered in bird poo, and a traverse back left to a large stance at the base of another corner crack. It was a great little picth and I was so pleased we'd got on it. A few young lads in a small boat came up to watch for a while, I could spy they were drinking beer, I knew I'd be ready for one after this.  I also had a very close call with a fulmar chick. Although most of the nesting birds had now cleared the cliff, evidently a few remained.

For those of you unfamiliar with fulmars, they are sea-birds which nest on rock sea cliffs; the egg being laid atop of plant material in a rock depression.  A fulmar chick has a great defensive mechinism; at the sight of a intruder/predator they will projectile vomit the contents of their stomachs. This is usually very oily and VERY fishy. Once covered in this you can expect to throw away you clothes and smell of rotting fish for a few days.

On my hearing a seeing the the chick just about to eject it's stomach content I ducked down and climbed out of view. This would be the first or two encounters of this nature. Both times my instinct causing me to make a noise like a scared child - I think these were the scariest moments on the climb!

1st pitch on the rising leftward traverse.

Hannah followed quickly and we checked the guide book and started pitched two. This was the easiest and shortest pitch of the 3, being 17m and 4c. The guidebook description being Climb the corner to a steepening, then head left across the wall to a comfortable stance on a pedestal. Peg, thread and sling belay. 

The second pitch looking back to the belay at the top of the first pitch. The fulmar chick was encounter just a few feet to the left!

The peg leaves a little to be desired but such is the nature of sea cliff climbing.  After a brief rest for 5 minutes and to take in the position the final pitch loomed large above.

After reading a number of accounts I knew that the final pitch was fairly straight forward for the first 28m, then around 4m from the top the holds run out, you get pumped and air time becomes ever more realistic. 

A small and compact traverse leads to the crack which is climbed via some superb bringing and solid jams, easy enough so far; don't know what all the fuss is about! Bloody hell I'm nearly at the top, I can see the final few moves look easy enough. Place a bomber runner and away we go. A few moves around a little lip, nothing but 100 feet of air and the sea below and...bugger...where have the holds gone. Not to worry there is a good jam here, or maybe not! The crack is full of green slime and bird crap and it's awkward. Oh sh*t I'm getting pumped...quick reverse. Right more gear, then get it done before you get boxed! I can see that about 4 moves up I can bridge out and relax but those moves in between seem a lot more difficult than the supposed 5a!

Hannah having climbed the crux with ease. Nothing but space
and sea over 100ft below

A few more goes and now I'm even more pumped. Relax and composure yourself - it's just a crack. Imagine all those gritstone cracks you've climbed you know how to do this. right GO!

30 seconds later and I pull over the top to be bathed in glorious sunshine and a huge iron pole which would certainly suffice for the anchor. 










Hannah followed fiiding the crux 'good fun but not to tough'...or something along those lines. The plan was to head down to another sea cliff and bag another few routes but I'd had enough adventure for one day and what a route to call it a day on! It's certainly one of, if not the, best route I've climbed. I high;y recommend it!!

Hannah topping out on possibly the best HVS in the coutry, Moonraker!