Godrevy In the mizzle

chasing a flight that never happened

At this point I’m starting to think Godrevy to Navax Point is testing me.

For the second weekend in a row, I drove up to the headland with one clear goal in mind: finally get the drone in the air and film a full run from Godrevy along the cliffs to Navax Point. On paper, it sounded simple enough. In reality… Cornwall had other ideas. Again.

The Return of the Cornish Mizzle

The morning started in that very familiar Cornish way: not quite raining, definitely not dry. Just that constant mizzle hanging in the air, beading on my jacket, fogging my glasses and slowly soaking everything it touched. Add in a stiff onshore wind and you’ve got pretty much the worst combo for flying a drone over the sea.

Still, I’m stubborn. I parked up, stepped out into the grey, and headed towards the clifftop with my bag. Visibility wasn’t terrible – I could see the lighthouse and the outline of the coast – but the air felt thick, and the gusts hitting the cliffs weren’t exactly subtle.

Another No-Fly Day

I stood on the headland for a while, weighing it up. Drone in the bag, controller ready, but every time I looked out over the water the mizzle seemed to thicken and the wind gave me another shove.

Technically, I could have launched. Practically, it would’ve been asking for trouble: moisture on the drone, reduced visibility, unpredictable crosswinds over the cliffs, and absolutely no margin for error above churning water and rocks. I’ve flown in some “character-building” conditions before, but this just felt like pushing my luck for the sake of it.

So, for the second week running, the Godrevy-to-Navax drone mission was cancelled on safety grounds. Frustrating? Yes. The right call? Definitely.

Making the Most of the Wild Sea

Just because I couldn’t fly didn’t mean I had to go home empty-handed.

The sea was in a foul mood – in the best possible way for a camera. Big, heavy swells were charging into the reef around Godrevy Lighthouse, throwing up plumes of spray as they hit the rocks. The horizon blurred into a soft grey band where sky and water merged, and the whole scene felt properly wild.

I set up the tripod, wiped the front filter more times than I can count, and grabbed a series of stills of the strong seas hammering the coastline. Shorter shutter speeds to freeze the impact, slightly slower ones to catch streaks of foam and motion in the water. The wind made everything harder – camera shake, salt spray, cold hands – but it also gave the images that raw, stormy energy you just don’t get on calm days.

In between stills, I shot a bit of handheld video: waves exploding against the rocks, the lighthouse standing firm in the gloom, water surging through the gaps in the reef. Nothing polished, just honest clips of the coast doing its thing.

From Clifftop to TikTok

Even though I couldn’t get the aerial footage I wanted, there was still enough there for some short-form content. Once I got home and dried off, I pulled a few of the clips into the editor and cut together some quick sequences for TikTok and YouTube Shorts.

Sometimes those little vertical videos capture the feel of a place better than a longer edit – just thirty seconds of angry sea, low cloud and that isolated white tower getting battered by the elements. Not the cinematic drone run I’d planned, but still a nice snapshot of what the morning really felt like.

Third Time Lucky?

So, was it the productive drone mission I was hoping for? Not even close.
Was it still worth going? Absolutely.

Part of documenting this coastline is showing it as it actually is – not just on the perfect golden evenings, but on the grey, windy, slightly miserable days when the weather wins and you have to adapt. Those days are just as much a part of life in Cornwall as the sunsets and calm seas.

The Godrevy-to-Navax drone flight will have to wait a little longer.
Batteries are charged, memory cards are empty, and I’ll be checking the forecast like a hawk.

Try again next weekend, lol…