The day before we headed to Cornwall we popped over to Torquay to see Jason’s underfloor heating pipework – a work of art. It’s all tested now and with no leakages, it’s ready for surveying before being covered in concrete.

The underfloor heating is down, tested and ready for covering

We headed to Cornwall on Saturday 20^th February and it’s a few years since I’ve visited the county. The first thing that always strikes me is the distance it is. And even though we set off from Devon, it still took three hours to get to The Lizard where we met up with some old friends Maggie & Tony for coffee at The Lizard, lunch next door to the Lizard Lighthouse watching the waves crashing on the rocks, helicopter & rescue vehicles providing extra visuals, and tea, cheese & biccies back at their lovely home. A treat!

It was a forty minute drive from there to St. Just in Penwith, the most westerly town in mainland Britain, just north of Land’s End. The cottage is perfect and as lovely as I remember it. Mary had the bathroom done up since I last stayed there and gets regular holiday lets pretty much year round, so it was a treat to have a week where we could snaffle a place in the diary. Overall the weather was great with only one day of solid rain and two beautiful sunny days, properrr warrrm it werrre. We visited Mousehole (pronounced Moozel)…

Mousehole

St Michael’s Mount from Mousehole

Fisherman on a freezing cold day from Mousehole

Fabulous restored campervan in Mousehole

And went for a few long walks to Cott Valley and on to Cape Cornwall and back to the cottage. Jason & Riikka plus Louie the Labrador joined us on Thursday for the last two days, an excuse for another long walk – I don’t normally walk this far unless I’m being sponsored!.

Riikka, Clive and Jason with Louie the Labrador at Cott Valley

The lane to Cott Valley

Cott Valley beach with very round rocks

This robin was singing away beautifully

Example of remains of tin mining structures which litter the county

A Chough sits atop this tin mine chimney heading from Cott Valley to Cape Cornwall.

Sun setting on the Atlantic ocean, from the hills between Cott Valley & Cape Cornwall

Louie looking towards Cape Cornwall

A beautifully restored mansion, Porthledden at Cape Cornwall, currently on the market with Savilles for £3m

On the Monday I had a phone call from a policeman from Harwich trying to get hold of Clive. He wouldn’t divulge why, however once Clive had returned from a walk to the town, PC Harwich had gone off duty and the copper Clive spoke to couldn’t tell him why the call and that he’d have to phone back after 10pm the following day, when our man was back on duty. We both speculated it could be to do with Clive’s dad and so he called the home where his father resides in Great Dunmow. An answerphone message informed him that the warden was on holiday and to call another number. Clive did this and spoke to someone at their head office who couldn’t tell him anything however put him through to another number, which went to voicemail, etc. So no luck getting through then or later.

The following day Clive had resolved he’d have to wait until the evening to find out what was up, and after a long walk we  to go to the cinema in Penzance to see The Revenant. I’d read the book and it was good. No sooner had the film started and the action got going, my phone rang, twice, and by the time I’d registered it vibrating the second time in my coat pocket, it was too late to answer. The calls were immediately followed by text messages for Clive to call Jason or his sister Jackie urgently. Clambering over a row of punters to get to an exit is always unpopular and tut tuts abounded. It transpired that Clive’s father had died the previous morning and we are still completely baffled as to why the Harwich police couldn’t tell him this when he’d rung them back. Apparently they spent the following day and a half trying to track another sibling before finding Jason. The irony is that Clive and Jason had updated all the siblings contact details with the warden and the care home last year so this was pretty disgraceful all in all. Anyway, nothing to be done as his father was in the morgue in Harlow and awaiting the Coroner’s attention. He’d died in his sleep, which was a blessing. Suffice to say it quite put us off the film, which incidentally strayed considerably from the storyline in the book.

The warden was back on duty for a couple of days before going on holiday once again! I suppose approaching the end of the financial year, holidays untaken need to be taken or lost, however it seems extraordinary that supposed warden assisted accommodation for elderly people is without a warden for days on end.

Last year when Clive’s mum died, we were in Essex and the travel was to and from Somerset in the West Country. Now though it’s reversed and we’re even further west and having to travel east back to Essex. Just as the cottage is let too, sigh!

We drove back to Dartmouth on Saturday visiting The Eden Project en route and what a place. Absolutely stunning. We bought a ‘gift’ ticket for the same price as a one off visit, which gives us as many visits as we’d like up to the end of October – result! We will definitely go again. It was built in an abandoned clay pit and has two incredible Biomes, one Rainforest and one Mediterranean. Here are some of the photos I took, mainly in the Rainforest Biome.

Eden Project Biomes, Rainforest in the distance and Mediterranean in the foreground

Pawpaw (Papaya)

More Pawpaw

Bananas, in England?

A most healthy bunch of bananas

Strelitzia flower (Bird of Paradise)

Spider lily

Cherry blossom

A friendly robin in the Mediterranean Biome

Clive headed to Essex yesterday, along with his three siblings, to embark on another emotional journey and the administrative nightmare that goes with death. I’m heading eastwards tomorrow, staying with my aunt Sheila and uncle Peter for a few days.

Until next update….

The pantomime in Ipswich was great fun. We ended up going with Clive’s two children, Niamh and Tadhg, and good pals from Harwich Howard and Sue (Howard’s first Panto) and Richard who recently bought The New Bell pub with long-term friends Pam and Kevin. Niamh performed in many pantomimes over the years at Stevenage and Tadhg has been playing drums & percussion for theatre productions and gigs, so both were looking forward to the evening and it didn’t disappoint.

Our neighbor Sean Kingsley had a leading role playing Merlin, who narrated the story as it galloped along, and he and the talented cast all played a variety of instruments superbly, sang, danced, and generally had us clutching our sides with laughter, especially the pantomime dame who was a hoot. Niamh could well have been the youngest in the audience at 19. Oh yes she was!

We all travelled home to Harwich together on the last train, congratulating Sean on his multi-talented performance, which kind of took us by surprise, not that we doubted him. It was great to share together.

View up the River Stour just before sunset

The following week after two osteopath scrunches and crackles where I felt about two inches taller afterwards, I drove to Worcestershire to see my parents, admiring the daffodils and blossoms coming out unseasonably early en route. After a couple of days of scrabble playing and catching up on news about family and friends, I headed back to Milton Keynes Crematorium for Betty’s funeral. Patsy asked if I would read a poem she’d written for the end of the celebration which was both humbling and an honour. A lovely service delivered in true Rudge style, funny stories, beautiful singing and poems written by grandchildren, well deserved by Betty. As a teenager she spent four years in a Japanese prisoner of war camp in Shanghai during the Second World War, and fled China in 1949 along with all her family and then new husband at the beginning of the Cultural Revolution. There were friends who escaped with her at the funeral, along with their children and grandchildren.

Two days later the ashes were interred at the Catholic Church in Woburn, where the priest had us all in stitches from the off. Not his intention I’m sure. Starting with the accusation we were all nothing but a group of heathen atheists, he proceeded to preach the sacrament to us, lectured about lighting candles, the importance of incense as he wafted it around the small casket holding Betty’s ashes. Oh boy! She’d have laughed too all through. Including the marvelous wake following, it was a great send off by a beautiful family.

Top photo, crocus in my garden and bottom, the jasmine in flower in early January, watched over by our Green Man (made by local artist Gay Gallsworthy)

We’ve been in Harwich for the following few weeks, whilst the series of Atlantic storms reached ‘I’ for Imogen. I’ve continued to make my Reiki infused HeartFelt! brooches and have found an outlet at Mystical Mayhem, Blake House Craft Centre near Braintree (CM77 6SH) where the wonderful Carrie Rowe has recently taken over. There’s also a haberdashers there and a kitchen design place, café, farm shop, etc. Worth a visit.

Some of my new HeartFelt! creations

The storm followed by the calm 

The crib competition continues and though our team were thrashed by The Hanover a fortnight ago, and lost 6 / 3 in the doubles last week, we bounced back admirably in the singles against the New Bell. I even managed to win all six of my singles games helping us to a 22 / 14 win. Hurrah! I’m not however in Tracy’s good books because we announced we must get back to Dartmouth to make sure Distant Drum and was safe, dry and ropes all secure in all this wind and weather. Clive headed to Frome to catch up with his sister Jackie and got back to Dartmouth last Friday. Everything was good with our boat apart from two badly frayed ropes which he’s repaired. He spent the weekend with both his brothers in Torquay, David helping Jason with installing the under floor heating system, which is taking longer than anticipated – the stuff ironically needs heating up for ease of installation.

We had a last minute Airbnb booking for the cottage for six weeks, which is great. Though I find the process of getting the cottage ready for guests cathartic – I’ve never lived anywhere so clean – the flip side is it can be like a nightmare where you never seem to have completed what you need to do. You think you’ve finished, then you open the fridge and realize you could have a conversation with the vegetable box and the cheese walks out in disgust. Then you remember the microwave as a dust ball wafts across the sitting room floor from under the sofa. You tie up the bin bag tight, then remember you haven’t cleared the ash from the fire place. I keep thinking I’ve got the process down pat, and yet I still only sank into the sofa, mug of tea in hand, shortly before my guests arrived at 6.45pm. Luckily they have a dog and a baby so after three minutes would be unlikely to notice a stray dog hair on the TV remote. I have to say their baby and their dog ‘Tiny’ (a Bernese!) are just gorgeous.

Howard & Sue came to my rescue on Monday evening, opening the door of their new (old) house The Dolphin House, which they’re in the middle of renovating (originally built by Cyprian Bridge I think) inviting me for dinner and to stay the night before I headed back to the West Country on Tuesday. We formed a quiz team The Freezing Dolphins along with other friends Alf & Jeanette – we came third out of four teams, pah! A clear journey all the way home to DD and to another quiz night at the Dartmouth Arms. Clive & I didn’t do badly in any of the rounds, there were eight strong teams (including us of course), though we missed out on the free pizzas this time (aka we lost). My brain is now fired and inspired after two nights of hard graft. Did you know the dot on the top of a lower case I is called a ‘tittle’?

We head to west Cornwall on Saturday, ‘Going to the Dark Side’, according to Andy, the Dartmouth Arms landlord.

Until next time….

Sunset at Harwich beach, February 2016

New Year’s Eve in Dartmouth was a wonder – wonder what happened…. We were promised fireworks, told that these were the envy of the surrounding area, despite no one knowing exactly where they were to be positioned. The whole town, apart from us, were in fancy-dress. Flintstones, giant traffic cones, cowboys, Aretha Franklins, you name it, costumes were out in force. We’d left DD at 10.30pm and headed to the Dolphin pub with live music and lots of costumes, before heading to the other end of the high street and the Dartmouth Arms, where we’ve won a few pub quiz prizes and the landlord is very friendly. As midnight approached we made our way to the waterfront with hundreds of other people celebrating the end of 2015 and welcoming in 2016.

Midnight struck and a volley of fireworks lit up the roof of the Old Castle Hotel…. for 60 seconds, then all went quiet. Nothing on the river, nothing at Kingswear on the opposite shore, a couple of distant explosions from the direction of the castle, and that was it for the fireworks. There was however an amazing moon rising behind the hill at Kingswear, which illuminated the sky as it rose ever higher and it was beautiful.

The following day the weather deteriorated dramatically and more torrential rain and high winds whipped up the Dart once again. Welcome to the New Year! My friend Vicky fearing for our wellbeing invited us for roast dinner and to stay the night at Ottery St Mary, which I jumped at with both feet off the pontoon before Clive could say, “have you remembered your toothbrush”. Clive thought it wise to stay behind to look after DD and the ropes, and be rocked to sleep in the ensuing storm. Even the house was rocking later on in the high winds so I dread to think what it was like aboard. Clive slept through it admirably, though by the end of this last week he’d had quite enough, and after adding a couple of extra ropes he packed up on Saturday afternoon to head, saturated,  inland through floods in horizontal rain and gusting winds.

In the meantime I had a complete change of any plans for the first week in the year. Many years ago I had a great friend Flick who was tragically killed in a car crash in 1984. I’ve remained in touch with her mum Betty all these years and have become good friends with her and Flick’s siblings, in particular Sue, Kathy and Patsy. Sue got in touch on 4^th January to warn of the impending demise of Betty at 88 years old. I got in my car the next day and drove to Aspley Guise in Bedfordshire to say goodbye to a most remarkable lady. I’m very glad I did as she passed away the following morning. The funny thing was as I drove through the area a couple of weeks before, I felt Flick’s presence and told my mum that I thought she was around and was there for her mum. When I got there, Sue & Kathy said oh yes, she was there. They’d had so many signals it was quite emotional.

Talking of lives passing, it was very sad to hear David Bowie died this morning, my favourite musician and an amazing performer. I have many of his singles (Jean Jeanie was the first single I ever bought with my pocket money back in ‘73) & albums and saw him at Milton Keynes Bowl with Icehouse and The Beat in 1983, where among 50,000 people Flick & I managed to find each other. So listening all day today on the radio to great stories about his life and his music, some of which I haven’t heard for years, has been a day for reminiscence in many ways.

I came back to Harwich after seeing Betty to sort the cottage after having an Airbnb guest over the New Year and stayed to play crib on Thursday for Tracy and the team at the Globe. We lost the doubles though won the singles, which gives us more points apparently. Hurrah!

I had been deliberating on whether to head back to Dartmouth and regardless had decided to go and see my parents this coming week when my back decided it had had enough and needed to see Angus the Osteopath, not before crunching my hip and rendering me incapable of walking over the weekend. So painful, I don’t think much of this getting older malarky! So crunching and manipulation and exercises to do, with another dose on Wednesday, and my trip to the Cotswolds postponed for a week.

Clive’s heading back here from Frome on Wednesday and we’re going to the Pantomime in Ipswich on Thursday, “Oh no you’re not!” I hear you call, “Oh yes we are!” One of our neighbours here is in The Sword In The Stone, a brand new production written especially for this season at The New Wolsey Theatre, and he sorted out a few tickets over the weekend. It’s not something I’d normally go to however we were offered some spare tickets last year and it was superb.

The weather remains turbulent country wide and Jason is thinking he should be building an Ark, not a house! The Essex coast is so much drier than the West Country so if we stay a while here we have no need for growing webbed feet. Now where are my wellies…..

Since my last posting it seems the whole of the north of England has succumbed to torrential rain and floods, with ancient buildings and bridges collapsing, towns dating back to Roman times under water and many people’s homes and livelihoods ruined. And it continues with no let up in sight. The Met Office thought it a good idea to start naming significant or ‘major’ storms like hurricanes are named, from A-Z. In just a few weeks we’re on Frank though we’ve had no let up since the aptly named Abigail. At this rate we’ll be on Wendy before the end of March.

We had a couple of weeks in Harwich in December before Clive headed to Frome in Somerset to help his brother David effect some essential repairs on the house there. I stayed on the east coast until last week when I fetched my parents to spend their Christmas with my aunt Sheila and uncle Peter in Essex. I ended up driving west to Dartmouth in hideous traffic last Wednesday, getting back to Distant Drum in time for an equally hideous night of high SE winds which whip straight off the Atlantic up the River Dart, rocking all the boats more than an Elvis concert. This luckily died down on Christmas Eve and we ended up having quite a sociable Christmas with Christmas Day spent aboard Distant Drum, and in between storms it was a lovely day. Long walk and feasting, relaxing, enjoying the brief and rare spells of sunshine.

We have spent a few days visiting friends and family in Somerset and Devon, including our pals Liz and Richard who Fergus lives with, who rented a cottage in Chardstock over Christmas. We had two long squelchy walks with them, getting very wet and muddy, made up for later by lovely dinner. On the way back to Dartmouth we dropped in on my old pal Vicky at Ottery St Mary. She and her partner Terry were dismantling a stable they’d put up a couple of years ago in a field which has been sold for building houses on. On with our wellies again and more squelching through deep mud, to give them a hand. We ended up staying the night and yesterday cracked on with finishing the stable and the chicken shed too. Many hands make light work and a good job was done, though Vicky doesn’t know where she can put the stable up again, until she can find another field to rent for her daughter Issie’s horse.

We got home to DD at around 5pm last night, and after daring to glimpse the weather forecast concluded that we were in for another rollicking rollercoaster ride, all for free, care of storm Frank. Oh yes! We recorded the ropes this morning, creeech, scrooonge, creeech, scrooonge, up and down, side to side, forward and backwards, creeech, scrooonge I think about sums it up. The weather today is revolting, chucking it down with rain, gusts of 60 knots and the river running really fast. The wind is finally moving westwards from south, which gives us more shelter, and the river is calming down…. a little. I have wisely retreated to the Flavel arts centre to write this blog, where from a picture window I can watch the rain drench and the wind whip people’s hats off from the comfort of a stationary sofa on the first floor, next to the cinema. Mmmmm! I have an idea. Star Wars is on at 2.30pm. The storm is said to have it’s second coming at 3pm.

It’s not all bad. Distant Drum is safe and solid and the ropes are all good and solid too. It’s the noise the wind causes all around which is disconcerting, and would be in any circumstance, and the movement caused by the combination of wind and tide on the water, the boat and the pontoon. This all conspires to keep you on your toes, not easy when you’re trying to put your socks on.

Bog Watch update on the Dartmouth Yacht Club

Toilets get a 3 – they’re not all that. Yacht clubs are supposed to be relatively upscale private clubs and the membership fees are pretty high at this one. Visiting yachtsmen are almost always welcome and we’re invited to use the facilities at this one as part of our mooring contract for the winter. Showers? The ladies showers are out of action and have been for months. In any case they would get a big fat ZERO as the club charges £1 for a shower, bah humbug! Disgraceful I say.

Luckily we have a lovely shower aboard DD which outstrips most of the showers we’ve visited to date.

We trust your Christmas has been wonderful and wish you a very Happy New Year

XXX

PS I still have a frustrating problem with my iPhoto which keeps crashing and I think must have a corrupt file in it somewhere. Have yet to complete the repair on it with the help of Apple Support. Next week perhaps…

Just filling up the water tanks aboard DD and taking advantage of the time to update our blog while each tank reaches capacity.

My parent’s diamond wedding anniversary weekend was fab. It was great to see all the family, my parents seemed to enjoy it tremendously, the food was excellent, the flowers mum had ordered from the florist were something else – absolutely beautiful. I would upload photos at this point however my MacBook has thrown a wobbly in the photo department and I cannot open the file, so these will follow in a few days time.

We stayed at the Broadway Hotel, where my older brother Tim was also staying. Very comfortable. It was renovated a few years ago and the outdoor courtyard was made into an atrium dining area. I am glad to report that the updating didn’t turn it into a boring modern same-old furniture place. It still has plenty of quirkiness. The breakfasts were excellent too. My parents, aunt and uncle, Clive and I had Sunday lunch there, which rounded of a weekend of celebration and feasting well.

We came back down to Dartmouth about ten days ago, via Frome to see Clive’s brother David, and Axminster to see my old pal JenJen. Breaking up the journey was good as it’s a bit of a trek and it was fun to see JenJen and Wendy Knee en route. Wendy is renovating an old cottage and there’s lots to do still so they’re both renting a converted holiday (half) barn on a small estate which was owned by the Bloomsbury Set (Virginia Wolfe et al) in the early 1900s.

We got back to Dartmouth on the Friday ready for me to have a market stall on the Saturday. I’ve made over fifty felting brooches, and I’d collected some other fabulously colourful and funky items from some of our artist neighbours in Harwich. Rosie MacPosie (felting animals etc), Donna Baldry (bright recycled wreaths and garlands) and Roger Hamer (wearable art). JenJen also furnished my with some pottery tree decorations and I was all set. Clive helped me get the stall ready in the morning, and the footfall was terrible. Hardly anybody came even though it was supposed to be a Christmas Market. Nobody was buying anything. Of seven stall holders, only two had any sales. So disappointing. I was so well organised, I’d thought everything through right down to wrapping items up, petty cash, drawing pins, duct tape just in case (it was needed with the wind), chair, warm boots and thermals. Even Captain Jack and Fergus accompanying me made no difference. Sigh.

I tried again last Tuesday and finally had a sale of one item. Sigh again. There were weekend markets on too but the weather was atrocious, so I was relieved in the end that I couldn’t get a table. I’ll give it another go tomorrow, then back to Harwich on Wednesday and Rosie MacPosie and I will have a stall at the street market there on Sunday. At least then if there’s no customers we can catch up on all the news, while I send Clive home to make us cups of tea. He doesn’t know this yet….

We went to Torquay on Friday to help Jason with his windows which were being delivered. His house is coming on well. Really impressive and considering he is doing it all himself, it makes it even more so. He is being filmed by a crew for a programme I think aired by the BBC, Homes Built Under A Hundred Grand, and they happened to be there too. Luckily a chap Paul with a crane on the back of his lorry, was able to crane all the windows up the cliff side onto the site, which was a relief as the thought of dropping one as we struggled up the winding slippery steps was quite terrifying. By this time the wind was whipping up and the weather was deteriorating rapidly, just in time for the Dartmouth Candlelit Festival and various other Christmassy weekend events all over the UK.

The torrential downpours waited until Saturday evening before setting in, effectively closing the festival – the band (called The Wireless) packed up early which was a great shame as they were excellent. Soggy food stalls, drenched clothes stalls, saturated mulled wine and cider stalls, all threw in their lot at about 8pm.

The wind is still gusting at 50 knots from the west, so though it’s not too cold, it’s brought all the fishermen to our pontoon as the sea is too rough. A battered Beneteau 41 footer T boned our stern this morning while trying to raft onto the boat behind us, adding to the joy of the smell of stale fishing boats emanating from the salty seadogs across the pontoon. It has also stopped ‘We Fit Windows’ from getting started on the crucial leg of Jason’s house build, when he can finally have the house sealed from the weather and in warmth and dry, concentrate on the inside.

The weather brought with it a super yacht, Lady Lara, now moored in the river opposite our pontoon. Made from steel like ours, that’s where any likeness stops. Owned by the sixth richest man in the world, it cost 150m Euros to build at the Lurssen Shipyard in Bremen. His old super yacht, also called Lady Lara, is now on the market for a mere 35m Euros. These Kazakhstani’s have come a long way since Borat…..

Well, the tanks are full, so it’s time to post this blog. Photos will be added in a few days.

Clive and I have had an odd couple of weeks apart, a most unusual event for us both and not planned for, it’s just the way it’s turned out. I had an excellent week dog sitting Fergus. We visited my parents in Broadway for a couple of days where he was thoroughly spoiled before I headed on to the Essex coast. We spent many hours walking the coast, (me) throwing and (Fergus) chasing tennis balls and sticks. The best walk was one along the River Stour at Wrabness at high tide. The sun was shining in a perfect blue sky and the autumn colours were magnificent. The Oak, Ash and other trees were stunning all along the shoreline and I couldn’t keep Fergus out of the water. It was a perfect beautiful day and a reminder of just how lovely the Essex coastline is – unspoilt by over development, a haven for wildlife and with an abundance of mainly native trees, from new to ancient – and the best weather the UK has to offer.

Fergus grabbing his ball

Liquid Amber – most beautiful tree

On the foreshore of The Stour

Perfect blue October sky

One wet dawg

View towards beautiful cottage nestled in the fields beneath Grayson Perry”s ‘House for Essex’

Across the Stour to Suffolk with Holbrook School on the other riverbank – aka ‘the cradle of the Navy’

House for Essex at Wrabness with The Stour beyond

My good pal Elizabeth came to fetch Fergus last Tuesday with her sister Gemma, more walks and Fergus undecided who he should show allegiance to – certainly not to Gemma’s spaniel Sophie who he ignored cantankerously. I miss him terribly when he’s not here though I am very happy he is living in such a good home, with great friends, loved and cared for, and he’s far happier than he could ever be living aboard our yacht. Even in the cottage he can’t get up the stairs any more (like quite a few friends!) He can still get on the sofa mind, much to Clive’s chagrin. He was 12 last March as is still in fine fettle, though has gone rather deaf in the last few months. Not a bad thing with bonfire night coming up and bliss! he cannot hear gunshots. Hurrah! Every cloud….

Fergus enjoying an afternoon nap

At very low tide on Harwich beach with Felixstowe in the background

Clive sadly missed out on the ball chucking fun as he stayed with Distant Drum, having a ‘swell time’ at high tides as the Atlantic sea poured into the Dart, carrying out searches on where the rain was getting into the cabin and fixing the Eberspacker central heating. The latter he succeeded in doing within a couple of days, the former is taking somewhat longer. Tracing where water is getting in to any property or vessel can be a hard task, even when it is seemingly obvious. Headlining down, tools out, buckets on the floor, rain lashing down outside and still no obvious route sussed. Luckily we have a good canopy that he has put over the foredeck and as long as the rain isn’t lashing horizontally, foiling Clive in his endeavours, it’s pretty effective.

Though he missed the Fergus fun, he and his brother Jason did enjoy a weekend food festival in Dartmouth, with around 60 different stalls serving every dish known to every west-country man woman and child, and we watched the rugby semi-finals from opposite sides of England, texting each other with a running insightful, aghast, obtuse commentary.

Our neighbours on the next boat along in Dartmouth, Tim & Erica, took Clive under their wings last weekend, sweeping him off the see the rugby world cup final at the yacht club. The All Blacks won in style and Clive won first prize of Famous Grouse whisky in the raffle, and Tim won the second, a bottle of Gordons gin. What could be known as a win win win situation!

I have cracked on with the felt heart shaped brooch making and Clive came up with a good name for the enterprise – Heart Felt Designs! Hurrah. I want to make about 100 before embarking on making other felt objects, animals etc, as I envisage them as the main bread & butter stock on a market stall. I’ve so far made 46 and counting. Here is an example of a few.

HeartFelt! Designs

We’re reuniting tomorrow (picture me running down the platform, tears streaming, arms outstretched – more likely out of puff after realising I was going to be late for the train, force 5 gale in my eyes) ready for a weekend in Worcestershire celebrating my parent’s Diamond Wedding Anniversary with (almost) all the family.

More later……

Double rainbow in stormy skies above Felixstowe today

Lovely sunset at Ha’pennu Pier

We had a week in Harwich enjoying music from every quarter. The evening we got back we met up with our pal Jo for an early dinner at The Alma followed by an excellent concert at the Electric Palace Cinema. John Etheridge, who plays gypsy jazz based on Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli compositions, with three other excellent musicians. He played with Staphane Grappelli for the final five years of the old musician’s life and had many humourous tales to relate to a pretty full audience. Well worth traveling back for.

I joined The Globe cribbage team on Thursday and though my valiant efforts at the singles, winning four of my six games, was good, it alas was not enough to beat the opposition and we lost the singles by one point, though our team did win the doubles, hurrah!

Friday evening we were invited to friends Roger and Vin Hamer’s private view in Bodgeners on Church Street, which they’ve taken over for a fortnight to exhibit their wonderful colourful artwork. Bright, vivid and energising, well worth a visit this week if you can get there.

Roger Hamer with some of his fabulous art

By Friday the town was filling up with all sorts of bearded wellie booted salty seadogs from far and wide. Clive and I studied the timetable meticulously and worked out a plan of action for hearing as much music as possible over the weekend, which involved visiting almost every pub, both sailing clubs, boats on the pier, the pier itself, the brewery, etc etc, where the singers and bands rotated from place to place, criss-crossing each other, with solo singers, duets, trios and quartets up to choirs of thirty. They had come from as far away as Norway, Holland, Poland, France & Germany, Cornwall, Devon & Bristol, London & closer to home hailing from various parts of the Essex and Suffolk coasts. The finale was superb with all troupes and a large audience gathered in St Nicholas Church and performing one song each on the Sunday afternoon, which took two hours altogether and had the roof rising with “Bound for South Australia” and other ‘haul away’ songs from the seas.

Piratical Pirates behaving Piratically on board the Sea Shanty Express from Manningtree to Harwich

Pirates at Manningtree alighting the Sea Shanty Express to Harwich

A mad couple who dress up madly every year

Shanty band from St Austell in Cornwall on board the Svend Knud with it’s owner Mo, a real character we met last year (front right), who used to be an engineer for film sets, including The Plank, a brilliant comedy with Eric Sykes & Tommy Cooper from the 1960s

Helen the piratess manager of The Alma, and I know much she will LOVE this pic being including here (NOT)

We culminated the weekend with a lovely dinner at friends Sue and Howards cottage experiencing Sue’s signature slow cooked roast pork belly – superb!!!

I spent the next few days utilising the teachings of Rosie (who made Cpn’ Jack) in the art of ‘felting’. I’d bought some roving wool, brooch backs and a tool box to keep all my cotton reels and buttons, and have embarked on making roving wool & button brooches to sell on market stalls in Dartmouth or Harwich for Christmas and beyond. Each one takes about an hour in total and I’m really enjoying it, apart from when the needles stray absent mindedly into my fingers! Of course that’s me being absent minded…. Keep my eye on what I’m doing and not on the gorgeous view across the River Dart from the doghouse in our boat, for example.

We returned to Dartmouth on Thursday as Clive’s brother David was down for the weekend, to help Jason with his roof on Friday and help us diagnose the problem with our freezer – it’s the pump, not the gas which we’d originally thought.

I discovered a couple of weeks ago that one of my favourite artists, Simon Drew, lives and works in Dartmouth and has a studio and shop here. His art is superb and his humour such fun, combined they have you in stitches. Well, he had a private view on Friday night which I’d been invited to – hurrah! It was excellent and part of a wider art trail of twelve galleries in the town all exhibiting new work. I started at Mr Drews and ventured forth to all the others I could get to. The only problem was that each exhibit I walked into, a glass of the finest white wine was thrust into my hand, which after the third gallery had the effect of making me falling love with every painting I clapped my eyes on and making friends with everyone I met, though not remembering one of them the following day (painting or friend). Clive had wisely declined to join me and raised his eyebrows as I wobbled back on board some three hours after briskly setting off on my art adventure. A fun way to start my birthday weekend!

Jason, Rikka and David all came over on Saturday to begin birthday celebrations starting with a divine fish and chip lunch. We had a great day all together and while David stayed with us, Jason and Rikka commandeered their son Sam to collect them from across the river at Kingswear at about 11pm.

My great friend JenJen arrived Sunday morning and we had a day of catching up on news and tales of life, a filling lunch at the Station Café next to our pontoon, followed by ice cream cones and world cup rugby at the sailing club, seeing the northern hemisphere teams get trounced out of the tournament, with Scotland robbed of victory in the final minutes of their game against Australia – sigh!

Building on right built circa 1800 abutted onto building on left circa 1500 which has taken umbrage and is trying to head up river to Dittisham

Alf Resco cafe!

Another week has begun and I’m cracking on with roving wool inventions, market investigations and planning where we’ll be and when over the next couple of months. Tomorrow I drive up to my friends Elizabeth and Richard in Royston, where Fergus the pooch is now luxuriating. I’ll be dog sitting for the next week which I’m looking forward to, and will start with visiting ma & pa in Worcestershire as they haven’t seen Fergus for a year or so.

I’ve no bog watch to report I’m afraid, and I’m saving taking pictures of Cpn’ Jack in Dartmouth until he can keep me company on any markets stalls I can get up and running in November.

Until next time…..

Double rainbow from across the Dart

Double rainbow from across the Dart

We saw the Blood Moon rising over the Essex Coast on 27^th September, huge, magnificent and majestic. The following day we went to the UK debut of Blood Moon, “a killer slice of comic book horror” at The Genesis Cinema in Mile End. www.bloodmoonthemovie.com is released today in the UK on DVD and digital HD and it’s a hoot. It’s not a nasty scary movie, it’s tongue in cheek spoof of the American Wild West with a werewolf twist. The debut was great fun. The director, Jeremy Gooding, was introduced by Tyrone Walker-Hebborn who renovated and owns the lovely independent cinema. The auditorium holds over 500 people and was very nearly full. All the cast were there and we caught up with a good number of friends who’d travelled from near and afar for the evening. Travelling on the train into and out of London reminded us both of how much we don’t miss commuting! Liverpool Street was rammed when we got into the City and it took us almost 2 hours to get home again.

We drove back to Torquay last Wednesday to find an easterly wind causing a massive swell in Torbay. Poor Distant Drum was being rocked into the pontoon and one of the ball fenders had burst with the constant bashing. After Clive spoke to his brother Jason we between us determined that whatever the state of the weather and sea, DD should be sailed to Dartmouth the following day.

Jason rocked up, literally, at 6am after a bumpy motion filled night aboard. I got the long straw, hurrah, and was driving the car round to Dartmouth to take Jason home again after their voyage. The boys set off at 7am and I took the camera up to the harbour wall. The first thing I saw was our bow plunging into the waves and rising up high again. Quite terrifying when you’re watching it from the shore even though on board you feel safe.

Distant Drum sailing at dawn out of Torquay Harbour

I looked over the harbour wall and felt VERY sorry for Clive & Jason, and VERY glad I was driving the car round to Dartmouth. It was rough out there!

The sea was rough and as I drove along the coast road, waves were crashing over the sea wall in my path. It’s only 11 miles to Dartmouth from Torquay and I got to the town in good time to have a cup of tea and find the library, which I joined (why not?). As I went to make my way to the harbour office, I recognised the familiar sight of Distant Drum gliding towards me on the river and ran down to the pontoon to take the ropes (warps). Phew, what a relief. With the sea state as it was, I was very glad to see both Clive and Jason safe and sound, smiling from one ear to the other, having had a roller coaster ride the last two hours. Their final approach into the Dart was aided by a five meter breaking swell on which Distant Drum surfed into the river-mouth. The boys were ecstatic, and though both admit at the time all they wanted was to be at destination, they’d had an adventure they both enjoyed.

What happens in a rough sea – the cockpit

What happens in a rough sea – the saloon!

What happens in a rough sea – the galley!

And amazingly, nothing broken!

Dartmouth is a lovely town, so much to explore and centuries of history. Here are a few photos I took over the weekend.

The Cherub is the oldest building in Dartmouth, built in the 1300s as a cottage and remained a dwelling until the 1960s when it became a pub. Its back door used to be on the water front. The land has been reclaimed over the centuries and it now sits up steep steps two streets back from the river. Further, it has the clumsiest barman on the planet!

A chap has been building this house among the rock face along the river from Kingswear of about 20 years. He has even built his own rail tracks to transport building materials etc up & down the steep cliff side

Kingswear Castle from across the river at Dartmouth Castle

The Dart Mouth

Lower car ferry

Kingswear from across the River Dart

We’re currently getting remnants of Hurricane Joaquin so the river is a bit rocky, though not nearly as bumpy as it was in Torquay last week. We’re over-wintering in Dartmouth and are geared for visitors. We will be back home to Harwich for a few weeks from Wednesday and of course are geared from visitors there too! And it’s the Sea Shanty Festival this coming weekend…..

Brad over from Arizona & Jim at Sonia’s NYE party

Czechoslovakian luxury 1930’s Tatra car, parked on Ha’penny Pier and what a beauty. Apparently Hitler liked the design so much, he used it as a template for the Beetle

Tatra from behind

Paignton to Kingswear (Dartmouth) steam train

Cpn Jack & Fergus with Clive and Vicky in Torquay

The boat of ‘The Men Who Lunch’ with an ominous sky approaching from the Atlantic

One of the seven hills in Torquay under an ominous sky

Dylan and Simon with their 29er

The boys heading out towards the race with their green spinnaker sail helping them make headway

They apparently came 41st out of 47!

A few extra days in Harwich enabled us to catch up with more people than we’d first planned. After three days of trying, Clive eventually managed to secure a ticket to see the musical Parade in west London, in which his son Tad was playing drums & percussion. It was an excellent show and absolutely packed out.

I managed to get over to Stansted to our friend Sonia’s ‘New Years Eve’ party. She has a NYE party on a selected Sunday every summer and it’s always a blast. This year she chose September as Brad from Aridzona, (did I tell you he’s a lawyer?) was visiting Blighty on his annual trip over to Europe and staying at the wonderful Sonia’s for six days.

It was good to catch up with a number of old friends who I’d not seen for ages. Brad was in fine form and Sonia as ever hosted an excellent party. Clive in the meantime was traveling Harwichwards by train and getting the supper cooking, so I left the festivities at about 6pm, only to hear later that Sonia took a tumble at about 7pm, banging and cutting her head on a paving stone and knocking herself out. An ambulance was called and after some time the paramedics declared her OK, at which point Brad said, “Oh no you don’t! You take her in to hospital until you’re sure she has no concussion”. Duly chastised, the NHS crew did as they were bid by the interfering Yank and whisked Sonia to safety at Harlow. I expect the blood sample taken shocked even the most hardy A&E doctor on duty – how is this 75 year old gentlelady even walking with an alcohol content as high as this? Surely the sample has been contaminated! Sonia returned home some six hours later after the danger had safely passed. Three cheers for Brad, and for Maxine and Michael for bringing her home.

We returned circuitously to Torquay late last week, via Worcestershire (me) and Frome (Clive), both of us visiting our respective families en route.

We have a boat moored opposite us which is owned by an elderly chap who bimbles down every morning and carries out various tasks, cleaning, rubbing down, washing, bimbling. He is then joined by two other elderly chaps, one of whom, David (72), owns a fabulous yacht called Nefertiti which, having sailed round the world in her twice in the last 18 years, now sails single handed across the channel to France and northwards or southwards every summer. Anyway, these chaps lunch together every day, and go their separate ways early each afternoon. We call them The Men Who Lunch. Not to be outdone, on Tuesday an old friend from Hatfield Broad Oak days, Vicky Willis, came aboard for a lunch time feast. She now lives in Ottery St Mary just the other side of Exeter and for some mad reason, I’m godmother of her daughter Issy. It was lovely to see her and we walked to Torre Abbey in the afternoon, which fired my resolve to visit the place properly, which Clive & I did yesterday. WOW! Well worth visiting.

Torre Abbey was one of the wealthiest monasteries in Britain from the 1300s until Henry VIII sacked it when he fell out with the Catholics and needed funds to fight them. It then became a ‘stately home’ going through several transformations, all the time owned by a Catholic family who had to hold Mass in secret for centuries until the late 1800s. Tragically, all the male heirs were killed in the Great War and death duty (taxes) wiped out the family’s ownership in 1930, when it was sold at a cut down price of £40,000 to the town council. That’s a very brief snapshot of a long and turbulent history. The exhibitions were excellent, interesting, varied and included some rooms dedicated to Agatha Christie, and what a life she had. The gardens were beautiful too.

We spent a day in Dartmouth via the steam train from Paignton and back. It’s a lovely place and with the nights drawing in, the weather cooling fast and the Atlantic sea state playing a merry dance, we have secured a mooring on the town pontoon for the winter, so we will sail DD round there for October 1^st (weather permitting).

Today is Saturday 26^th September and friends from Harwich, Duncan and Gunter, have just been for tea aboard DD. They have brought their son Dylan and his pal Simon for the class 29 races. Dylan is a keen sailor and has been exceptional in his age range at racing lasers. The 29ers are a different type of boat requiring two sailors to manage the sails and 47 of these small boats raced today. All the sailors were young and aged from 16 upwards. It is such a good way to learn about wind and sails, and to conquer any fear of the water. Brave guys all of them and we just watched them all return some five hours after heading out into the bay.

Tonight we are going to Clive’s niece Sarah’s 21^st birthday celebration, a long uphill stroll to stretch our calf muscles again. Torquay and this area is very hilly and certainly keeps you fit, compared with Essex! And that’s where we’re heading tomorrow for a few days, primarily to go to the premier screening of Blood Moon at the Genesis Cinema on Mile End Road, east London, a ‘western werewolf’ movie which our pal Harold has invested in. We couldn’t miss it and we’re trying to get a screening at The Electric Palace in Harwich. Released last year, Studio Canal have taken up the promotion and distribution. More on this and other tales later…..

Photos to follow when I have a good internet connection.