CHAPTER V THE SCENERY AND HOW IT CAME TO BE
So curious and diversified is the geology of the island that it has been described as a microcosm of geology, for it contains in itself every kind of stratified rock. This geological variety shows itself markedly in the scenery; in fact, there are few places where the influence of geology on scenery can be so well studied. For instance, at Alum Bay, near the Needles, the whole of the strata from the chalk to the fluvio-marine formation are displayed in unbroken succession. The colours in these cliffs are wonderfully striking, ranging from gamboge and terra-cotta through ochres and red-browns, so that the whole is like shot silk seen in certain states of sunlight. As many people come to see the Alum Bay cliffs as the better-known Needles. The effect of the two together is most wonderful, because the coloured cliffs contrasting with the chalky white sharp-toothed crags and the brilliant blue of a summer sea are gorgeous in the extreme.
The razor-edged Needles can really be seen best from a boat, because, looked at from above, they naturally lose in foreshortening, and do not seem to tower out of the water so much as they really do. The only way in which their height can be measured from the shore is to note the apparent smallness of the lighthouse at the seaward end, which is quite a respectable-sized building, standing eighty feet above high-water mark. All home-coming captains look out for the Needles' light, which shows white for fourteen miles westward and red for nine miles south. The ships which have weathered long voyages feel they are home again once they sight that light, but alas! many times, owing to the dangerous fogs in the Channel, the light is hard to pick up, and the captain has to creep along cautiously, aware that he may easily be out of his reckoning, and much too near a singularly dangerous coast. The tallest pinnacle of the Needles at the landward end, known as "Lot's Wife," was broken off many years ago by the waves.
THE NEEDLES
Quite as striking a feature of the island as the Needles are the wonderful chalk downs which run from Freshwater Bay to Culver. The range is broken by a fault at right angles to its main axis, and in this fault is the valley of the Medina. The little River Yar, oddly enough, rises within a few yards of the beach on the south side of the island at Freshwater, and running north through a gap in the chalk falls into the sea at Yarmouth on the north side. Freshwater Bay in itself is a curious formation, a break in the sweeping cliffs which culminate in two horns on the two sides, while the actual beach is of the tiniest proportions, so that the sea, gradually narrowed as it rolls in, breaks with terrific force in a south-west gale. On the highest point of the cliff, near the west end, there used to be a beacon, now replaced by a cross to the memory of Lord Tennyson. The cliff at this place is 490 feet high.
The range of downs is called by various names, such as High Down, Afton Down, Shalcomb Down, Mottistone Down, Brixton Down, Apes Down, Bowcombe Down, Gallibury Down, Rowborough Down, Lemerston Down, Gansons Down, Gatcombe Down, Chillerton Down, Mount Joy, St. George's Down, Arreton Down, Messly Down, Ashey Down, Brading Down, and Bembridge Down. All or any of these afford fine walks with sweeping views on a clear still day, but on a windy day they are best avoided, as the short slippery grass surface slopes steeply down to tremendous cliffs, and there is more than one record of an unfortunate individual taken unawares. As might be supposed, the island is celebrated among golfers, and there are excellent links, some of them upon the Downs, and the game claims the attendance of its devotees from Bembridge to the Needles.
The chines, or ravines, are another feature of the scenery found in great variety; the best known of these chines is that at Shanklin. This is full of luxuriant verdure and overgrown with a tangle of trees and shrubs, and has been formed by the action of water hollowing for itself a way into the cliff, and eating back and back. It seems almost incredible to believe the streams now seen can have been the agency for these deep cuttings, and yet there are proofs beyond dispute. As is often seen in cases where the ground has been laid bare by one cause or another, the soil thus uncovered is far more productive than the surface soil exhausted by continued growth, and thus the variety and richness of the trees and creepers in these chines are wonderful. On a hot summer's day the sunlight falls gently in patches between the black shadows thrown by the towering walls of the chine or by the thick foliage, and the warm closeness is full of the murmur of bees and insects. On a dank day, however, when dripping trees and green slime send out exhalations, these chines are melancholy to the last degree, even in summer.
Blackgang Chine, which is almost equally popular, differs from that at Shanklin in being a great cleft between towering bare cliffs which look as if they had been built up in giant blocks.
The Undercliff is a special and very striking feature of the island. It is a strip of land lying under a great cliff along the south side; it is from a quarter to half a mile broad, and the cliff overlooking it is as perpendicular as those usually found only above sea-beaches. Bit by bit the cliff has broken away in great masses, and the pieces lie as they have fallen, embedded in a tangle of greenery which has rapidly veiled them. As the Undercliff faces south, and is sheltered by this continuous wall of chalk and sandstone, it may be imagined that in summer it is intensely hot.