The Sea, The Sea! Well the Forth Anyway...

I had to dig out a couple of my brothers photos and now I want to be back in Cramond walking along the front looking at the bird life and the view of Fife over the water.  The one major problem with this town is that it is far from the water. 
There is nothing like the sea.  The light, even when the weather is towsy, is different.  The light bounces back and forth from water to sky and gives a new view of the world.  The sea air, always bracing if it is litter full and trapped in a gully, changes the view of life.  People appear happier walking by the sea, relax is the word that seasides bring, well not if accompanied by a thousand children obviously.
Up in Edinburgh for my mothers funeral eight years ago my brother and I wandered along the front after 'seeing the body.'  This was a relaxing way to consider the new situation.  Having known the area from Cramond right along to Granton Harbour it brought back many memories and we could see how things have changed, though most of the place looks similar to our memories.    
We learn how to enjoy the seaside as children.  This is passed on to a younger generation and on and on afterwards.  Few children fail to enjoy the sea.
In the past people feared the sea.  Men travelled over many miles to trade and explore in thousands of years past yet we still feared the sea while doing so.  Only those who fish or those who trade or explore would consider sea voyages a sensible idea.  However the need to see what lies over the sea is within many of us.  From dugout trees to super liners we want to travel the sea to get to the other side but while this is attractive the majority would rather sit by the sea and just enjoy it from the side.  Sometimes I think I can smell the see though this may be the drains of course.  Sometime soon I must get down to the coast and bore people with photos...

Tacitus & Sea

Before I began to make use of my Book Tokens this Xmas I began to re-read Tacitus.  This was somewhat disappointing for me as I liked it last time but was more aware of his bias, deliberate choice of view and admiration for Vespasian the new Emperor.  
I agree after three poor Emperor's, each one devoted to replacing the disgraced Nero, Vespasian was a good practical choice.  His ability to secure the Empire and salvage Rome from the muddle was useful and Tacitus came to fame under Domitian Vespasian's rather unfortunate second son.
The book goes into too much detail, much of which finds me wondering about its veracity, and often speeches are made Thucydides style, that is made up by Tacitus.  This does not mean he in inaccurate but he is not totally truthful and people might sound as he wished.  
When Nero was removed Galba took his place until bumped off by the crowd, Otho was next and he happily committed suicide to save Rome, Vitellius was next but after a short but bloody civil warhe came to an end thankfully.
It is easy to see which Emperor Tacitus liked because the bad ones are full of greed, laziness or incompetence, their people are often divided and confused, always without discipline and not very nice.  The good guy's side however are the opposite.  Now again he is probably right as civil wars tend to leave a lot of confusion and mixed feelings, father against son etc.  However he on occasion sounds like something written in the 'Daily Mail' rather than an objective source.
Still without actually doing anything but be crowned Emperor by his troops Vespasian takes the position and before he even reaches Rome the book ends as so many parts of the writing have not survived.  So much we do not know!
It's worth a look just to get a grip on how class ridden the Roman society was.  To see how easily armies dump their generals and run amok, and to be glad we live in such a secure and loving society like ours.  
What?...oh!

 
I've done nothing but read books and tidy up today so here is a picture of the sea.  Isn't it wonderful?  The sea not the picture.  Where would we be without it?  Just sitting beside it relaxes the mind and allows us to dream of places far away.  
The sound of waves lapping against the shore, the sight of boats, some with sails, moving around is so good as easing the days troubles.  I wish I lived next to the sea I do miss it.  However it never writes to me.  
At night at sea you see the stars above.  How wonderful to get an uninterrupted view of the night sky.  I caught such a glimpse the other night coming home as the light opposite was out.  At sea you will be able to see for miles and above you a panorama of stars must appear.  I want to see that!  Ah well, one day perhaps...

Tuesday Twaddle

Tonight I will sit in the dark.
I spent the whole day doing almost nothing at the museum.  Hardly a soul came in and when they did I was busy at my laptop and they interrupted me.   Tsk!  Now I am exhausted.  Innit always the way?
Nothing happened, all day!  Now my brain is dead and off little use to me.  Not much change.

I so wish I had taken this photo!  It does not matter if it is a set up or not it is a marvellous slant on so many things.  The cat looks somewhat bewildered to me, possibly wondering what he was there for, but being a cat I am sure he will do it anyway.  If he cannot do it he will just eat whatever is lying around and go to sleep.

On days like this, gray, dreich, depressing, when the sky never clears and the sun remains hidden I just want to be by the coast far from it all.  I want clear air, sea, sky and few people around as I wander about.  
There is something about the sea that speaks of freedom, possibly because you can jump on a boat and sail away, whereas being in the country, though enjoyable, means it goes on for ever and often does not get you away from whatever is around you.  
Not that I recommend travel by small boat around the world, or indeed large liner, the sea is its won master and those waves get very large in some areas and storms can continue for days.  In those conditions being on land is superiour.  The only thing I miss about this area is the absence of sea.  I must travel a distance to find it and then travel all the way back when I have put it away for the night.  One day I will be rich enough to own a home there.  One day I will be rich?  Those tablets are wearing off!

The noise of an explosion outside reminds me that November 5th is the time we fill the world with fireworks, bonfires and visits to the accident & emergency services.  While a good fireworks demonstration is appealing I find the needless desire to fill every night of the week with the noise a bit of a pain.  I do realise that many animals also get terrified when such noise erupts, cats & dogs wonder what is going on with little enjoyment from the sight of the things high above.  I'm not one for banning them but restricting their use would be worth considering.  There is a man nearby who considers any event an excuse to set of fireworks, birthdays, weddings, having a cup of tea, it all brings out a few bangs in the sky.  I say control yourself man!

Meandering

A stones throw from Edinburgh Castle there stands these houses built in the late 19th century I believe.  Above the roof of one stands this cat like creature apparently waiting to pounce upon the park land far below.  When we passed this as a kid the family would point this out but I could never see it.  No matter how hard I scanned the rooftops I was too dumb to see what was in front of my eyes.  Standing half way up the 'Mound' I looked for the cat but go see nothing yet one day while passing there it was.  You can tell by the Edinburgh it was summer.  Actually I am not sure this began as a cat but the weather beat hard at the thing and a cat is what remains.  No idea what it could have been.

The London penthouse in which I dwelt for many years contained a 'cat woman.'  This one, who's name I forget, became a a friend to me and often joined me in my humble abode, it joined me everywhere if it could as cats do, however on this occasion the brute was making use of cat woman's garden.  By garden I mean the area above the front door which acted like a garden if you like rock hard ground.  Having eaten everything in sight I suspect he now retires to sit in the sun.  Clever cat.

This is a scene from a trip on a boat somewhere on the Irish Sea in the 90's.  Hunting for oil?  I canny see what else they would be looking for.  Maybe as a nuclear power station is not far away from this place could this be the result of too much atomic power leaking into the sea?  Maybe someone should look and see if they remains in place?   With even the Saudi's worrying about the loss of oil revenue could it be these have indeed been removed and replaced?  If so I wonder what with?

This appears to be Bournemouth Pier long ago but I suspect it remains the same today.  A wonderful beach here, well cared for, much used all year round, and a huge tourist benefit for the town.  This is a place I miss, especially when the crowds have departed or long before they arrive.  Maybe I ought to consider whether it is time for a weekend living of the second family?  Maybe I will wait until the sun shines again as it appears to have gone out now.  I will try again in Spring.

Jollity!

It's been a jolly day today.  For the first time in weeks I felt almost normal and failed to sit on the roof last night howling at the moon.  Having spent most of yesterday asleep and sleeping well last night, combine that with eating better and this morning I felt so good I went out to an early meeting by bike!  Indeed in spite of the wind I cycled for several minutes both there and back, going the long way round as I was enjoying myself.  Such a change from the last few weeks.
Indeed I even smiled at the woman in Tesco while she charged me an arm and a leg for my goods and almost, but not quite, started clearing up the mess around me.  That can wait....
How lovely to feel normal again.

 O to go down to the sea again
To the lonely see and sky
I've left my shirt and socks there
I wonder if they're dry?

Spike Milligan got it right.  There is no better place to be than by the sea.
I have come to like it here, all I require is within reach, bar the sea.
One day I will by that wee house by the sea, few neighbours, no noisy ones, a good view of passing ships and all facilities required within a short walk.  One can but dream, and my wallet is not keen on me doing even that!

Nothing to Say

I have nothing to say so here is a picture of a fishing boat at Dunbar I took back in the 80's.  These wee craft were out in the Firth of Forth collecting lobster nets, just to the right there were lots newly landed.  Fishing in the Forth or out into the North Sea has been going on for millenia but it has always been a dodgy business.  The weather and sea together are bad enough but now the dying stocks and the various rules have killed the fleets.  Not that I would eat lobster, the cruel manner of cooking is disgusting and anyway shellfish are not for me, give me fins and scales. Not that I was offered anything but dirty looks by the local natives, their appreciation of tourists was not great.
 
Dunbar has been around for some time, the small castle ruins has seen some excitement with various Kings and Queens passing through, none were there to greet my travels I must say.  Since the Votadini came down from the hills above and settled in this spot the town has seen two major battles, lots of small ones, the castle slighted and folks killed left right and centre.  The population today is a few thousand, there might have been more if they did not keep getting caught in fights!
It is thought St Cuthbert was born here or in this area and worked as a shepherd until joining the monastery at Melrose.      

This is a picture of the sea.
I post this for those of you who live inland miles fro the sea as you may not be aware of its existence. One thing to note is that it is wet, very wet, and walking upon it is not advised.  It does take up a vast proprotion of the palnet however and is full of fish, sea creatures, boats and plastic rubbish we threw awayand now floats around as a danger to sea life, shipping and us.  Most of the fish is probably poisoned with something or other, these lobsters also. These creatures like all shelfishw ere intended to scavenge and clean up the sea that is why folks were not supposed to eat them, pigs and the like were doing the same on land.  I suspect no amount of shellfish could save the sea today.

However this guy appears happy with his lot, how about you?

The Sea! The Sea! It's Wet...

Having arrived for a rest from my labours I was taken on a walk through a park, up the high Street crowded with heavy traffic and thousand's of people and then forced along the beach.  We started high up along the chine where seaside flats with large windows and enclosed balconies start at around £400,00 and with houses on the shore with views over Poole Harbour fetching between £3 and 10 million.  I will not be buying one.   

 
I was not only frogmarched along the shore but then forced to climb back up the chine the hard way - going upwards!  We took a shortcut (he said) to make it easier but I lost two stone in weight by the time we reached the top.  

The sand along here is well maintained. Earlier this year in was renewed as storms had taken much away and we watched a tractor pulling deep sand back from the stairs down to the beach, the tide has raised this several feet and his job was to pull it all back.  He soon gave up we noticed.  During the summer there are many guards on duty, strict control over the promenade, two cyclists who went through at the wrong times were fine £50 plus much more in costs for cycling at the wrong times, and huts are placed at various intervals for the many problems families bring with them, or children as they are known.  

We began our Matterhorn like ascent around here at the back of a somewhat grubby hotel.  Had we been able to continue we would have reached Sandbanks where the multi million pound houses are found but instead climbed to the mere million pound ones.  Flats here have wonderful views and are the last resting places of the wealthier type who retire here to waste the cash their children hoped they would inherit.  We were personally ignored by several of those. 

Poole Harbour, a lovely spot with water only a few feet deep for a long way out.  Usually you see people standing next to a boat far out but few were about this day.  In the middle of course the water is very deep and the Bologne Ferry passes by at regular intervals along side other large ships winding their way in.  The views here are magnificent, the weather always changeable but always offering a variety of sky to look at and wonder.  A very popular place to parade and only £2.5 million for a house, reasonable I say.  

This was to be the picture of us receiving oxygen from a passing paramedic crew but I considered it too unsavoury for tender hearts...

Back to Work!

After my furlough I stumbled down the road, braving the gale force wind, and entered the museum once again.  Naturally all the bright young lassies were desperate for my return (yes they were!) and I settled quickly into the routine, making mistakes, forgetting names, losing things, overcharging customers (and that was only a 50p postcard) and forgetting where everything was kept.  
Back to normal then.  
Usually I was left on my own but today young Lee, an unemployed accountant, fills his time by volunteering and today he joined me and it was just as well.  The first customer wished tickets for an event, Lee knew where they were and I was supposed to know how to work the 'friends of the Museum' discount.  Naturally I got it wrong!  After much fiddling the lovely Jenny told us the simple way of 'doing it right' and the man was happy enough with things.  Lee had to correct me several times as I forgot what/where/why and so on.
Just like normal!

So now I sit here staring at the 'To Do' list and thinking of reasons not to do it.  So much requires attention, the museum requires something - even though they do not know it yet, the house requires lots of work, the body however wants to sit and stare.  The mind cannot even work out what to watch or listen to at the moment.  The news is filled with liars asking, nay pleading, for us to save their careers and I really do not posses the desire so to do!  A quick look at the candidates for election has made my mind up.  I will not be voting 'for' anyone but 'against' the man who will win.  We also have local elections on and I am positive who I will vote for there even though I know nothing about them!  I found one item of information re one woman, nothing whatsoever re the others wishing to be local Councillors!  A disgraceful state of affairs I say!  In a town as small as this you would think such information important - there again so few will vote normally at local elections and those who do so today will vote for a Party, not a candidate.  We have no other choice.  Again I am voting for a Party because the other Party dominates and opposition is a must - even if poor.

That's it.  I'm all washed up now....

Sea Sick, Too bad!

Since I was last here a couple of years ago I wanted to return to this car park and sit here watching the ships go by.  The sun glinting off the water, the sounds of the ferry's chains rattling, the water sloshing against the walls, the variety of craft that run back and forward on occasion ignoring the 'Give way to the Ferry' sign on the ferry.  The sun shone but there was a chill in the wind still, note the two at the back of the wee boat!  They have been out on a fishing trip and I wonder if they have caught anything out there apart from pneumonia?
There were over twenty cars on the ferry but I lost count as they came off.  A tourist bus, a 7:5 ton van and other large vans also travelled alongside a cyclist or two and foot passengers.  During the summer this place must be teeming!  The sands opposite filled with revelers and others indulging in things you keep kids away from, unless you are Ofsted of course!

Away in the far distance stands 'Old Harry Rocks.'  Once in the days of long ago these were attached to the Isle of Wight that is now far across the Solent.  I have clambered out along the top, in the 1980's, and it seems to me bits have been worn away since then by the storms.  There is no chance of my clambering over the brutes now!

Somewhat closer than in reality the distant Isle of Wight is clearly seen, even the southern end often shrouded by haze can be seen in the far distance.  So what happened to all that chalk land that has eroded?  I suspect someone somewhere has a mountain or two on their beach that they are not too happy about.

We climbed up to a high spot on the cliffs to gain a better view.  Down below the handful of people walked along the bright sand, sand that looks as if it has been relayed in time for the summer season.  The tourist income is vast and this long beach stretching from Christchurch to Poole more or less is a fabulous place to be.  Thousands consider it so and it gets a wee bit crowded.  There is very good support from lifeguards and council controls.  Mostly for lost kids during the day I suspect.

More fishermen!  They are also the only folks at sea it appears.  Usually this place is teeming with life.  Ferries to France, lifeboats rehearsing, small craft passing by, occasional other bigger ships in the distance heading for Poole.  Today little moved except a  dog or two and some people enjoying the sun. 

The different shades of blue in the sky intrigued me.  The sea was the same, various shades, changing as clouds passed over.  The blue above lightens as it heads towards the horizon, gradually the blue dissipates until it touches the sea.  The clouds remained small cotton wool like and insufficient to fill the picture, which is good.

Sick off the sea?  OK, no more now.

oops, sorry!

Thalatta! Thalatta!

"Thalatta! Thalatta!" "The sea! The sea!"
The cry of Xenophon and the ten thousand when the saw the Black Sea for the first time. To the sea faring Greeks this meant they would make it home from their expedition against Persia where they had been dragged into the wrong war and on the wrong side. It was also the cry that rent the air when I stood next to the great deep and breathed in the brine and rejoiced in the sun glimmering on the endless waves. Getting there however was not as straightforward as I hoped. 

To begin with all went well, the train was on time, the carriage was quiet, the sun shone on the green and pleasant land as we flashed along and even better nobody made use of mobile phones.

The change at Stratford would have been smooth if I could understand how to work the ticket machine, when things are simplified they are always harder to comprehend and I found that technology was not on my side this week.  Eventually however I sat in a tube train full of happy Londoners, cheerful, kind and ...oops, sorry I was deluded for a moment.  However I reached the station that French presidents try not to arrive at and boarded the train where a youthful London lass equipped with all the social graces of a nineteen year old Londoner sat next to me working on her texting.  Joy abounded!  

We moved, the five coach and therefore overcrowded train slowly made its way out of the platform.  The sun shone in our window, no-one spoke in the quiet carriage, an occasional bleep from a mobile or tablet was heard and we settled down for a happy journey.  The train slowly made it's way to Clapham Junction station where it ground to a halt five minutes after departure.  Enter the guards voice from the depth of the Tannoy, "A person has been hit by a train at Surbiton so there will be a hold up as both lines are blocked.  (This occurred at 11:34, one minute before we left.)  This usually takes about an hour or so."  Apologies were made, and resignation ran through the train.  Being the quiet coach we are not allowed to riot.

Having sat at Clapham for almost an hour we moved suddenly and without warning.  No-one believed all was well.  It wasn't.  We parked ourselves at Wimbledon station because it appeared we stood in the way of some 19 trains that could depart and avoid Surbiton, we could not.  The crowded masses on the platforms at Waterloo waiting for their trains did not bother us one bit but must have been a nightmare for the staff.  Here we sat watching the station staff run around like headless chickens, a very interesting experience as I, like you, have been involved in similar situations when nobody has a clue as to what is happening, information does not arrive and customers have steaming heads.  So it was fun to watch others suffer, in love obviously.

Was this an accident that a 75 'hit a train?'  That happened last week on the Tube.  Or was it suicide?  Now it peeves me that people kill themselves by throwing themselves in front of trains not for them so much as for the trouble their action causes others.  The train driver may well be traumatised by this.  He may get a day or two off work but will have to pass this way again and some folks find such things hard to dismiss from their minds.  He may suffer guilt for doing his job and being responsible for another's death even if he is not in truth responsible.  Then there are those who have the job of collecting the pieces from the track who may not be too happy about it either, let alone the thousands who are delayed by this action.  Indeed this is a selfish approach to suicide.  

The late arrival led to confusion at the other end but soon I reached the happy home where we sat scoffing while the birds hammered away at the fat balls in the garden.  What can be better than a small enclosed garden?  Well one by the sea I suppose.  Everybody ought to have one, humans need it!  However it is very difficult to get a decent shot through a window, especially when the brutes will not  stay in the sunny bit while flitting from one seed type to another!  This shot shows a really magnificent example of a fat ball!  I have also numerous pictures of blurred Blackbirds and the rear end of Blue Tits if that's your thing. 

How lovely to be able to sit in another's house and feel at home?  l don't often get that as I am usually kicked out but I did relax here and began to enjoy it greatly.  My second family who I owe much to and I realised I have known for a mere 44 years.  I should add that eating properly for a change helped a good deal, the food in this house is cooked by a  lovely woman, as indeed it should be!  Nothing in this home got burnt, not even when three of us men cooked Pizza all by ourselves!  

We also watched, in spite of murmurings from the corner, Bournemouth football club getting themselves promoted by beating Bolton 3-0.  Jolly good for this little club even though a cynical female woman failed to appreciate the magnitude of the occasion.  Such women still get to vote mind!  Think about that next Thursday!

  

Thalatta at last!  A trip over the chain ferry at Sandbanks to sit and stare at the sea, what more could you ask?  Well sunshine for a start and an end to the chill in the wind!  Running since 1926 and secured from the tide by two tough chains the ferry runs back and forth across the short distance  saving motorists a 25 mile trip round Poole Harbour. To one side stands the huge harbour area where a mass of sailing vessels and some very big Channel ferries base themselves, to the other side lies the Solent and out into what the English call the 'English Channel.'  Humble eh?  This is one of the delights of this area.  The views are fantastic and I find this sort of thing refreshes the mind.  Air, sea, breezes, sand and a few boats of various designs all combine to relax the heart.  That is why folks sit in the car at the parking bay and stare out to sea.  That is why others, braver than some, walk no matter the weather along the shore.  There is something about the sea that humanity requires daily, no wonder I miss it.  Of course some people do not like water, they will sit in the car muttering while the brave scout for dangerous fish, illegal immigrants or flotsam & jetsam.   None were found here as the water was clean as indeed are the beaches.  The area is quite upmarket, a house here would set you back from £2 - 10 million, but they are well done up.  I do not have one - yet!

At Studland two brave souls wandered down the slope to the tea stall situated, as such things always are, at the far end.  In summertime when the heat is on and the beach huts crowded with revelers, while kids drown one another in the sea or bury dad in the sand this place must be mobbed.  It is not large but when crowded it would be a place to avoid!  Today however the chill reduced the numbers and we watched while this crow (or is it rook?) waited while the lass at the table fed him chunks of her lunch.  Usually timid he was keen enough to jump on to and off the table quickly while grabbing his portion.  Her wee dog considered grabbing him but she would not allow that.

  

I could have taken a thousand pictures here, often of the same subject but in different ways however some people muttered about 'having a life' and we moved on.  All told I did take 190 fotos although not all were a success and you lucky people will be spared having all of them shoved down the throat.  A hundred would be enough.  What's that you said...?  Oh!  Anyway, that's enough for now.  I have been forced to walk hundreds of miles, OK, well two at least and some of that up slopes, and my knees will not stop moaning, and I canny bide folks who moan.  So I am off to bed to rest up!          

To See the Sea!

One of the things I miss most about living here is the closeness of the sea.  It is possible to reach it if I jump on a train or bus and endure the other passengers all the way to the coast but in Edinburgh we had the Firth of Forth stretch right in front of us.  Here we could see the sea and taste its aroma as the Forth made its way out to the North Sea.  In days past warships based at Rosyth would make their way out to join the rest of the fleet based in Scapa Flow.  I myself saw a nuclear submarine slip past one day some time back, just a large conning tower and the beginning of the huge volume of the vessel showing. When aged around four or five I was down there with my dad when  a man pointed out to the middle of the water, there we saw a large whale blowing away.  What kind of whale I cannot say but whale it was, the memory remains in my mind of him blowing water.  Neither sub or whale are seen today, one has been removed by London based governments and the other eaten by Japanese or Norwegians. Today not far from this point just before the Forth Bridge large vessels stop to collect the ethylene refined at the Fife Mossmorran plant for shipment to Antwerp and further along similar ships deal with the products of the Grangemouth refinery thus making the Forth a still busy shipway.  

In days of yore just along from this spot Newhaven  Harbour lay.  This small fishing village was once at a distance from both Edinburgh and Leith and has long since been swallowed up.  While many houses have been rebuilt in an old style the people are no longer distinct from those around them. Here the men in their 'pea-jacket' would fish throughout the night, a very dangerous occupation, and on returning to land the wives in their pink or yellow striped dresses would sell the catch to the girls with the 'Hurly' a basket for the fish carried on their backs.  These lassies in the mid 19th century were often Irish rather than Scots and the potato famine brought many more Irish to the city where around 25,000 soon had their abode. According to Detective James McLevy, himself of Irish extraction, the men stood around while their wives did the bartering avoiding any part in the process.  I suppose a near death experience or two at the edge of the North Sea gave them the right to expect the women to do some work, and with the lassies buying it was probably a good idea at that. 

On the far side of the Forth the Fife villages of Crail, Pittenweem and others also so small craft enter the waters to seek for fish, a process that had endured for centuries and ended only in the last fifty years. While the boats developed the danger remained the same and as the fish stocks failed and a type of industrial fishing ruined the breeding grounds the trade died.  Newhaven has developed in other ways and the Fife villages now fill with Edinburgh people too poor to buy a local house, thus leaving Fife folks with even less money less choice of housing. Commuting to work over such a vista may be enjoyable but as always someone suffers.  

The pictures of the Newhaven folks were taken by Edinburgh's two Photographic pioneers Hill and Adamson!   Using a calotype process they subjected the fishing folk to long static poses while they developed their picture.  Quite what the locals thought of this I know not.  They did pose however, in their best, or possibly their only clothes, and must have been happy, and paid, to do so again and again. The pictures taken at Cramond were examples of my brothers talent on a Nikon from a few years ago.  I found them on a disc and decided to put them to use. He wandered out very early one morning before the world had risen and took pics of places we all once knew.  Ah the aroma from the sea is with me still, or possibly I need to put some stuff down the drains again. 

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Dreaming...

Yonks ago I was down at Maldon wandering along the quay there.  A lovely estuary with a couple of barges and some other boats to be seen.  Most of this part of Essex is low lying estuary  filled with the yachts of the wealthy.  At least you need to be wealthy to buy one of these things and then learn how to drive one.  There have been such craft sheltered around here for generations, indeed one reason the Romans chose Colchester as their home was the ease of boats from Rome trundling up the river and almost into the town.  The yachts are a wee bit more sophisticated today but admirable as they are I refer something with a bit of character and this Tugboat suits me more than an expensive boat.
Now I realise you are indicating somewhat caustically that the last time I was at sea was standing on the old bridge at Leith harbour and even then I felt seasick however I would like to dream about being a sailor!  The crossing off the oceans, on a quiet day that is, would be enjoyable I say.  Slowly cruising past Greek Islands, wandering about the Indian ocean, or viewing the landmass of Australia - from a distance, would be intriguing.  Actually all that on a small cruise ship, with good lunches and competent crew, might be better than slogging around on an old tug.  The only problem with cruise ships as far as I can see would be the other passengers!  
Ho hum, I must go and dream on....

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Sea Me....

Oh to go down to the sea again!  How I miss it!  I have not seen the sea fora very long time, and the sea has not seen me either for that matter, not that in the mind of the sea I matter that much.  That picture is two years old, and I suspect the ship has managed to make land by now.
In fact I have not been anywhere for a while, mostly because I have been busy searching for dead soldiers or have felt rough.  At last I ventured forth into work yesterday and sat there half asleep all morning.  Clearly an improvement they all thought, usually I am totally asleep!  
Today I was so keen I returned to seeking info on dead men and after much struggle succeeded (although nothing succeeds like a budgie).  I have found interesting info and now must contact the great, great granddaughter of the poor soul to inform them.  Before I do this I need to investigate two more of her distant relatives and pass that info on also, but most of that has already been unearthed. 
I did make two mistakes today, one was to discover yet another butterfly butterflying at the window, so much for then dying out!  I aided his escape and decided to rescue the one in the bathroom.  This I did by gently easing him onto a little booklet and carting him to the fresh air at the open window.  As the beast realised the way was clear he flew off as I congratulated myself on the rescue.  Unfortunately he almost crashed into the telegraph pole outside and swerving to avoid this he went under a car!  I was horrified.  There is no way off knowing if he was carried along the road and escaped, and I am not sure if the bits in the road were parts of a fallen leaf or my mate.  I feel more guilty about this than most things!

My second mistake was to forget I am not fit.  The shelving is falling down and the wee shop next door had a nice (cheap) bookshelf stood standing doing nothing there.  A quick walk in, use the arm as a ruler and measure the length, and then wander up the road pondering the price.  That was the other day as I crept early up to Tesco, today I remeasured the bookcase, using my arm, and my failing shelving, using my arm.  I then obtained the money from the bank, thanks girl for the loan of those nylons, and bought the bookcase, £10 off seeing it was me.  I carried the shelves upstairs and he gave me a hand up my one flight.  This was the mistake!  Forgetting that I was run down, forgetting that I was not fit forgetting that I am 'ahem' older than I was, as he raced back to his shop I floundered on my chair gasping for breath in a manner unknown to me! In fact those athletes at Glasgow in the following few days may find themselves less breathless than I was at that moment.  I really need to do some exercise, properly, and three times a week. The girls at work say, "Visit a doctor," but we know he will just say "Fat slob," so there is no need. At one point this afternoon I was however almost thinking about it.

There are wars and rumours of wars, there are celebs filling the empty pages of papers, and now the kids here are on holiday!  Can it get any worse I ask.....? 

.

No News, Make Something Up!

Charlie, the nations trainee King, has we are informed said something quite outrageous.  During his latest visit somewhere or other, not sure where I really didn't bother to investigate too deeply, he encountered a one time Polish WW2 refugee.  She claims not to be able to remember the exact words used (hmmm) by the Prince concerning her war experiences but claims it was something along the lines of 'Putin is acting like Hitler.'  I remember her statement with the same authority she remembers his.  

There are no major news stories at the moment that is why as I brought my bleary mind into the world before six this morning the radio headlines were filled with Charlie endangering the world.  His throw away comment, if actually made, would harm diplomatic relations with Russia it was claimed.  This would be seen as a criticism of the Ukraine situation which in turn would cause a breakdown in relationships worldwide and possibly the Third World War!  At least that is what the 'Daily Mail' appeared to make out of it.  A word to a woman who we have never heard off taken out of context to make a story.  I am not sure what happened to the wifey but surely her story would be more interesting, but I guess sell less papers. MP's on the prowl for votes tomorrow are being questioned by earnest cretins from the media re this shocking statement.  TV and Radio debate the empty story for hours to fill space, and the papers are in a terrible tizz.  Prince Charles himself of course will be giving a little smile. Whatever he says will be abused by the folks living like leeches of his existence.  No doubt a member of the Foreign Office hierarchy will now be writing to him for 'clarification,' I guess he cares not a jot. His tactful father has taught him how to get attention well.  

BBC

A non story but at least it pushes the lost sailors of the main page.  Now I am sorry indeed a small yacht has gone down, the loss of four men at one go is a tragedy indeed.  However there is something not right about the urgent demand from the relatives that the US coastguard continue to search long after their official search has ended.  An official search that had already been extended beyond the normal length.  Quickly, very quickly, 150,000 signatures appear on a petition demanding the UK government makes the US continue the search. An expensive and efficient organisation appears overnight pleading for rescue of these men.  Media men are available at the beck and call, until Charles took a hand that is, 24/7 it appears.  

Something is not right about this.

Concern for the lost we all understand.  Pressurising governments for help is also what we would all do, however the unspoken belief that these are middle class folk with money and therefore more important than other lost craft remains.  The whole world, the UK government, or at least the US Coastguard, must do what they say.  The US have indeed continued to search, the RAF now is also sending a Hercules C-130 to contribute also.  If only this government gave the same priority to old folks in the NHS as they are doing for four wealthy Hooray Henries lost at sea, maybe of course they are not wealthy or important!