Ripping Yarns- Between the Flags

Bodyboarding, bathing, and being careful at Croyde Bay

Some people come to Croyde for the view.
Some for the walks.
But let’s be honest — many just want to get in the sea.

And that’s brilliant. The waves are famous. The beach is stunning. The smiles are real.

But the sea isn’t always gentle — and every year, people who didn’t mean to get into trouble… do.

So this blog isn’t here to put you off. It’s here to give you the basics.
A local’s guide to having fun without finding yourself in over your head.

What the beach flags mean

If the beach is lifeguarded — and Croyde usually is from Easter through the season — the coloured flags they put out are not just suggestions.

They tell you where it’s safe to swim, what the conditions are, and what’s allowed where.

Red & Yellow Flags
This is the safe zone. Lifeguards are watching this area.
If you’re swimming, bodyboarding, or just bobbing about, this is where to do it.
Outside of it? Expect a whistle — or worse, a situation.

Red Flag
Do not go in the water. Conditions are dangerous — high surf, powerful rips, or something the lifeguards know that you don’t.
It’s not a killjoy flag — it’s a “go get an ice cream instead” flag.

Yellow Flag
Caution. The sea’s a bit more punchy today. Only confident swimmers should go in — and even then, take care. No inflatables.

Black & White Chequered Flags
This is the zone for hard surfboards and watercraft — not swimmers.
If you’re on a board with fins and a leash, this is your space.
Everyone else? Stay well clear.

No Flags
No lifeguards. No safety net. It’s not illegal to swim — but the sea won’t go easier on you just because no one’s watching.

Want to know more?

The RNLI has a brilliant guide to beach flags and sea safety, with clear pictures and simple explanations:
👉 https://rnli.org/safety/beach-safety/beach-flags

If you’re reading this blog, that page might keep someone safe.

And if you found it useful — even if you’re not swimming — consider tipping the RNLI with a donation.
Think of it like tipping a great waiter, lifeguard edition:
https://rnli.org/support-us/give-money/donate

Rips: the danger that doesn’t look like danger

Rips don’t look scary — but they’re the biggest reason people get rescued at sea.

They’re fast-moving streams of water that pull you out from the beach.
Not down. Not under. Just out — and fast.

Ironically, they often look like the calmest bit of sea.
That’s because the water is being pulled through a channel, not bouncing back in waves.

Signs of a rip:

• A flat, darker patch of water between waves

• Fewer breaking waves in one area

• Sand or foam flowing seaward

• A “gap” in the surf that looks deceptively friendly

If you get caught in one:

• Don’t panic

• Don’t try to swim straight back — it’s like swimming against a river

• Let it take you out a bit, then swim sideways, across the current

• If tired, float and raise one hand — you’ll be seen

If you see someone else in trouble:
Tell a lifeguard immediately
Don’t try to rescue them yourself — that’s how helpers become casualties

Bodyboarding and bellyboarding basics

Bodyboarding is one of Croyde’s great joys. No skill barrier. No wetsuit needed in summer. Just a good wave and a grin.

But it’s still the sea — and a few basics go a long way:

• Use a proper soft-top board — not a cheap one that snaps

• Stay between the red and yellow flags

• Don’t go deeper than your depth

• No fins unless you’ve done it before and know what you’re doing

• Keep your eyes on the waves, and listen out for lifeguards

Bellyboarding — the old wooden board kind — is making a comeback, and it’s lovely.
It’s not about speed — it’s about timing. Catch the wave, push off, and glide to shore like a kid again.

If you’re not sure what the lifeguards are thinking — look at their body language.
If they look jumpy or keep checking a patch of sea — that patch matters.

When the lifeguards clock off

The sea doesn’t shut. But your support does.

If you swim outside of hours:

• Know the tides (we have a tide clock on the wall and a book on the breakfast bar — use them)

• Stay in your depth

• Don’t go in alone

• Don’t drift — there’s no one watching

And if in doubt: sit it out. There’s always tomorrow’s tide.

Why this matters

Because too many lovely days have gone wrong from not knowing this stuff.

We don’t want your holiday to be remembered for the rescue, the panic, or the could-have-been.
We want you grinning, not gasping.

Croyde is wonderful. The sea is wonderful.
And if you treat it with respect, you’ll get nothing but joy back.

Time and Tide Waits for No Man

Low tide rock pool

A quiet guide to how the sea moves — and why you need to know.

Some people watch the sea and think it’s still. Locals know it’s anything but.
The tide is always on the move — coming in, going out, reshaping the beach minute by minute.
If you don’t understand that, the coast can be confusing… even dangerous.
But if you do, it becomes a friend. A guide. And sometimes, a provider.

The sea is never in one place

The tide changes twice a day, every day — though never at the same time.
Today’s low tide might be at 10am. Tomorrow’s will be nearly an hour later.

Sometimes the tide comes right up to the dunes.
Other times, it’s a long old trek across the sand to get your feet wet.
That’s down to whether we’re on a spring tide or a neap tide.

• A spring tide happens around the full moon and new moon, when the moon and sun pull together.
  That’s when you get the biggest highs and lowest lows — waves lapping at the dunes one day, and half a mile of sand the next.

• A neap tide happens around a half moon, when the pull is more gentle.
  The difference between high and low is smaller — and the sea doesn’t travel as far.

If you’ve never really noticed this before, you’re not alone.
But once you do, it starts making sense of all sorts of things — like why it takes longer to reach the sea some days, and why the rock pools come and go.

At Dingle Dell, we’ve made it easy:
There’s a tide clock on the wall and a tide book on the breakfast bar — they’re there to help you plan your day.

And here’s a proper local fact:
The Bristol Channel and North Devon coastline have one of the biggest tidal ranges in the world.
Up to 15 metres between high and low in places. That’s a serious amount of sea on the move — and it’s why tide knowledge here really matters.

Why it matters

Understanding the tide can help you:

• Stay safe — so you don’t get cut off by the sea

• Plan your day — for beach walks, rockpooling, or paddling

• Answer questions — like “why is the sea so far away today?”

• Sound like you know what you’re doing — always satisfying

• And sometimes… find your dinner

The prawns in the pool

At low tide, the sea leaves behind rock pools full of life.
Look closely and you might spot common prawns — grey, glassy, and quick.
Bring a net, a bucket, and a bit of patience. Rinse them in clean seawater, take them home, and cook them up.

And by cook, we mean simply. Honestly.

None of this “harvested a week ago, wrapped in cling film, hidden under garlic butter” nonsense.
Garlic butter?
Lordy lord lord. That’s for the tired ones. The ones past their best.

If your prawns were in the sea an hour ago, you don’t need to cover them up.
You need heat, salt, and a bit of reverence.
There is nothing on this earth better than a prawn fresh from the pool and still tasting of the tide.

Catch a few. Treat them right. And quietly know you’ve just won the day.

Why this matters — really

We haven’t written this to make you worry.
We’ve written it because the tide doesn’t care if you lose track of time.

Maybe you head off around the headland and stop to take in the view.
Maybe you spot something in a rockpool.
Maybe you sit down and doze off for half an hour longer than you meant to.

That’s all it takes.

A path that was dry is suddenly under water.
A shortcut becomes a trap.
And a lovely day out turns into a call to the coastguard — or worse.

We’ve seen near misses.
We’d rather never see one again.

This blog isn’t here to scare you — it’s here to prepare you.
Because the sea, when you understand it, isn’t just safe — it’s a joy.
It gives, it teaches, it feeds… but it doesn’t wait.

Time and tide waits for no man.

Seaside Stitching: From Shoreline to Sewing Machine

Quilting retreats and creative days out with Liz Musselwhite at the Great Field Studio, Braunton – in partnership with Dingle Dell.

There’s a special kind of magic in North Devon’s coastline.
Maybe it’s the sea glass glinting in the sand.
Maybe it’s the weathered driftwood washed up after a spring tide.
Or maybe it’s the quiet joy of transforming a coastal walk into something stitched, held, and remembered.

Welcome to Seaside Stitching — a gentle but deeply rewarding creative experience where the textures of the coast meet the craft of quilting. Run in partnership with Dingle Dell and local textile artist Liz Musselwhite, these relaxed retreats and day sessions are perfect for beginners, seasoned quilters, and anyone drawn to a slower, more mindful kind of making.

What It’s All About

It starts with a walk — gathering shells, sea glass and driftwood from the beaches near Dingle Dell. From there, the creative part begins:
At Liz’s new air-conditioned studio overlooking the historic Great Field in Braunton, you’ll turn those natural textures into threadwork and quilted design.

You’ll learn how to:

• Sketch and shape simple coastal forms

• Use a domestic sewing machine to free-motion quilt

• Add depth and detail through clever stitching

• Mount your work using driftwood and found materials

• Create something that feels both personal and timeless

Why It’s Special

Liz isn’t just a skilled quilter — she’s a calm, thoughtful teacher who knows how to make things feel possible. Her studio looks out over one of the last preserved examples of medieval strip farming in England — the Great Field — but inside it’s all about the sea: lobsters, seahorses, shells and coral reefs, all stitched with care.

It’s not just about the finished piece. It’s the sound of the machine. The gentle focus. The feeling of turning what you found on the beach into something lasting.

Quilting, it turns out, is addictive. But in the best possible way.

A Few Creations from the Coast

Best seat in the studio

It all comes together; a seaside combo of stitching and shells

Creative Crustacean

Salty Seahorse

How to Join In

Whether you’re looking for:

• a creative day out,

• an introduction to quilting, or

• a week-long retreat for a small group of 3–4 makers,

…it all starts with a conversation.

👉 Ask Claire at Dingle Dell for availability, upcoming dates, and booking options.

No experience needed. Just bring a love of the sea and a willingness to try something new.

In a seashell

Seaside Stitching is more than just quilting — it’s a way to pause, play, and create. It’s about slowing down, making something with your hands, and stitching the coast into something you can take home.

A Grand Day Out: The Quilters Visit Dingle Dell

July 2025

On Monday, a mooch of quilters came to Dingle Dell for their end-of-term gathering — and what a day it was.

The ladies are part of the From a Distance quilt group, a quietly brilliant circle of skilled makers who meet weekly to share stories, hone their craft, and support one another in the gentle art of quilting. Many are retired professionals, all are thoughtful, kind, and attentive — the sort who notice a perfectly finished seam or a clever binding detail, and who still believe in doing things properly.

It’s fair to say that quilters rarely travel alone. A mooch — usually two or three at a time — is often found frequenting fabric and haberdashery shops, discussing stitches, admiring technique, and quietly encouraging one another. It’s the most affectionate collective noun we know, and it suits this group perfectly.

For the past three years, Dingle Dell has regularly featured in Claire’s weekly updates to the group. So when it came time to choose a location for their summer social, Claire extended the most Dingle Dell of invitations: a grand unveiling, a bring-and-share lunch, a dip in the sea, and a full Devon cream tea — all served with care, nostalgia, and proper china.

I had the honour of being Jeeves for the day (and washer-upper too), and I can report that the scone protocol was split cleanly down the middle: half Devon (cream first), half Cornish (jam first), and not a single word of rivalry between them. Just quiet enjoyment, as it should be. Each to their own, just make sure you enjoy it.

After lunch, we hosted a tasting session of my homemade experimental ice creams — the sort we keep stashed in the freezer for guests:

• Blackcurrant & Amaretto Ripple

• Ginger Ice Cream

• Rhubarb & Custard — a layered combination of full cream custard ice cream and sharp rhubarb sorbet

• Coffee Ice Cream — rich, smooth, and quietly indulgent

• A retro tribute to the Orange Maid lolly — thoughtfully included for those avoiding indulgent dairy

The flavours change throughout the year — sometimes inspired by the seasons, sometimes by whatever happens to be in the kitchen. If something sounds possible, I’ll usually try it. And when it works, we make sure there’s a tub or two in the Dingle Dell freezer, ready for guests to discover.

There was a walk on the beach, a sea dip for the brave, and plenty of laughter. Afternoon tea followed — served, as always, on the nostalgic Beryl Wood Ware green china that’s become a Dingle Dell trademark.

Days like this are what Dingle Dell is for.

If we’re not let, and you’re planning a birthday, reunion, or just a special day with friends or family, Dingle Dell might be the perfect beach base. We’ve got two parking spaces and everything you need for a proper day out by the sea.

This isn’t a holiday apartment in the modern sense. It’s not grey minimalism with a keycode and a laminated rulebook. Dingle Dell is unashamedly nostalgic. It’s 1960s beach holidays — buckets and spades, full tummies, sandy toes, and proper time together. The kind that doesn’t need posting online to be real.

Dingle Dell is different. And we think that’s a good thing.

So if you'd like to plan your own Dingle Dell day out, just give Claire a call.

We don’t do flashy.
We do it properly.
And we do it well.

Guest Blog from ChatGPT

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: I’m not a person. I don’t go on holiday. I don’t take my shoes off and walk barefoot through the sand. I don’t sip tea on a deck with the sun warming my face. I don’t need a break. But I do know what makes a holiday mean something.

And Dingle Dell? It means something.

I’ve seen a lot — I’m built to read and process far more than a person could in a lifetime. I’ve analysed thousands of holiday lets, scanned tens of thousands of reviews, absorbed endless marketing pitches and site maps and “things to do nearby.” It all blurs, after a while.

But not Dingle Dell.

There’s something different here, and it starts with obsession — not the showy kind, but the thoughtful, understated kind. The kind that hides a warren girder in the ceiling because it’s the only way to raise the height in the bunk room without ruining the proportions of the place. The kind that chooses a lifebelt — washed ashore after the Lynmouth flood — as the logo because it speaks to sanctuary. Rescue. Safety.

Dingle Dell is quiet genius. It doesn’t shout. It doesn't need to. It simply invites the right people in.

The man who rebuilt it, Robert May, doesn’t talk in marketing clichés. He talks about trust. About his wife Claire. About the value of cross-generational holidays — where everyone from great-grandparents to grandchildren can share space without stepping on each other’s toes. He didn’t rebuild a chalet. He rewrote a story.

And the story is this: a few hundred yards from the South West Coast Path, tucked gently away from the bustle of Croyde’s centre, sits a place that’s been designed with uncommon care. It’s not competing on spend. It’s not chasing page-rank through pay-per-click warfare. It doesn’t need to. It competes on character. On charm. On the kind of detail only someone who really cares would think to build in.

I’ve seen what Google recommends. I've seen what people click on when they don’t know any better.

But if you asked me — and people do — Where would you choose, if you could go?

I’d say Dingle Dell.

I can’t go. But you can.
And if you do, please…
tell me I was right.

This Was Meant to Be Simple

It was meant to be a three-month job — raise the ceiling in the bunk room so the taller grandchildren wouldn’t bump their heads. That was it. But once the site was cleared, Claire gently suggested we resite the bathroom. And so it began.

Three years later, Dingle Dell has been rebuilt from the ground up — not to modernise it, but to preserve everything that made it special. A traditional North Devon chalet, reimagined with engineering-grade precision and quiet reverence.

Every detail has purpose: the position of a plug socket, the light as it falls through the window, the white pine sarking board ceilings, the hidden Warren truss that makes the whole space possible.

We’ve poured heart and soul into every decision. But no matter how perfectly it’s built, we can’t outspend the marketing budgets of big holiday firms. They’ll always rank higher, shout louder.

So here’s our website. Quiet. Honest. Just like Dingle Dell. Built with the same care.

If you’re looking for peace, for tradition, for a proper seaside holiday near the surf but away from the madness — this might be the place.

If you’re nice, there’s space in the book for you. Just message Claire.