In reply to UKC Articles:
I remember doing this in about 1987. It stands out not because of the quality of the route but because of the stage that I was I at in my climbing. Just breaking into E3 (mainly because of my climbing partner's drive) so I always felt we were going to stretch ourselves. But at the same time I was free and easy, limber and unaverse in a way I can only dream of now.
We had a laugh on the traverse in, knowing it was high tide, but calm. The sea had a greedy slurp to it, a slow swell, but ultramarine under the sky. Halfway across, the swell increased once, high enough to wet our nuts but not just enough to wash us off. Retrospectively we thought it was the ferry but I'm not convinced that it wasn't just some random wave motion from the deep blue.
Doing the first pitch of Pentathol is no big deal in the grand scheme of cosmic outfreakingness but I liked cranking up that pitch with confidence and not much gear and wet shoes. Of the second pitch I remember not much as I was seconding and the third (which I led) mainly hairy lichen.
The flake probably fell into the sea because it wanted to. That route was always seen as a hard rock tick because it was a good line but not such good climbing and that is how I remember it.
But I remember it big!