Birds & Boats

With a late afternoon report of a Rosy Starling on the roof of the Belvedere pub, it was fortuatous that along with Bowie and Sheila I was going to JD Wetherspoon's, yet again, for a shoulder of lamb. Unfortunately, there was no sign of a Starling of any sort as was the case on both occasions I checked today.

The weatherman said this morning that the south coast would feel a full 4 degrees warmer than yesterday, but couldn't say I felt any one of them. Nevertheless, it was a fine morning with a few birds to be seen. Met at the Radipole kissing-gate by at least c2 singing Bullfinch plus a single Chiffchaff, a little further along the path was a bright male Wheatear, not at all common on this reserve. As usual a number of Moorhens were feeding along the verges, while c5 Pochard remain on site with several each of Teal, Gadwall and Shelduck.

Despite their common status, I have always considered the Moorhen one of our most striking birds.

So much so that my dear friend Sarah Lindsay painted this much treasured oil, presenting it to me on behalf of my rig mate, her dad Andy Lindsay and brother Shaun on the occasion of my 60th birthday.

Only seen briefly this morning, the Wheatear is by no means common at Radipole.

Gadwall male

Gadwall female

It was positively cold as I walked along the seafront to Lodmoor, and with no bird life the interest turned to shipping. The state of the economy (as if we need an indicator) can be judged by the number of merchant vessels swinging idly at anchor in Weymouth Bay week after week and so far there seems to have been little improvement. There was however an interesting looking warship, disappearing to the south, which I was not able to identify and what looked every bit like a brand new Assault/Logistics vessel also at anchor. With no pennant numbers on her hull I have been unable to name her but hopefully I'll be able to get closer views later in the week.

Barnacle Goose left, with Canada Goose for size comparison.

On the moor a single Barnacle Goose was still in attendance, and with the extraordinary number recorded in the county so far this year it is not beyond the realms of possibility that this is a genuinely 'wild' bird, in oppose to an escapee. In addition to this, c2 Reed Warblers were in song as were single Willow Warbler and Water Rail but the sound of the day issued from a small group of Bearded Tit hidden in the reed bed. A few Hirundines were also overhead, but no House Martin for me so far, and as I walked the length of Beechdown Way no fewer than c8 Cetti's Warblers were singing and occasionally showing. Before leaving the reserve there was a phone call to say an Osprey was flying more or less right over my head, but I didn't get a glimpse - ever onward.

Rock Pipit

It was now time for the 'bus pass' to come into play, so returned to Weymouth then onward to Ferry Bridge. Unlike yesterday, there were at least some birds on the fore-shore but only amounted to a single Great Black-backed Gull and c7 Herring Gulls. Again it was time to move, deciding to have a go for the Eider that has been regular on Portland Harbour close to the castle. Unfortunately, it was not to be but a pair of 'courting' Rock Pipit and a handful of Red-breasted Merganser did make for some enjoyment.

Before leaving this area, I was able to get a closer look at the jack-up barge only seen and photographed through a haze yesterday. She is the Antwerp registered Vagant built in 2002 and currently owned by GeoSea, Belgium. Specialising in wind turbine deployment we can only assume she is here, with attendant tug Multratug 17, to do just that.

A Strange Sort of Day!

Readers will be pleased to know that Ille caught her 16-40 flight from Stansted yesterday, and 2 hours later landed safely back in Tallinn. Being no rest for the wicked (as the saying goes) she was back at work for a 12 hour stint at the UNICEF HQ in Tallinn this morning. Once again I would like to convey her heartfelt thanks to everybody she met while here in England.

A Pub or Ale House has stood on this site since 1346, but the present building is attributed to the 17th century.

There was always a slim chance of a 'post' yesterday, but that was dashed by South West Trains undertaking engineering works and diverting all Weymouth - Waterloo trains via Havant and Guildford. Adding a further hour to an already long 3 hours it was late when I arrived home so opted for a short visit to The Boot. The oldest pub in the town, I arrived to find, not surprisingly, many of my mates, and that Gilles has now left. New landlord and landlady Ken and Diane Russell have left their last project as area managers in the Bristol area for maybe a more sedate pace here.

While there was little of interest either side of the cemetery this morning, I did take to studying some of the gravestones. A little morbid you may think, but there lies some of the mason's craft at its best some dating back to the 1700's. Despite almost daily visits when I'm at home, I had never noticed this pyramidal monument before and on closer inspection realised it was one of my friends.

Lee Henville Cole was undoubtedly one of the finest guitarists that Weymouth has ever produced and believe you me there have been many. Being an albino, I used to refer to him as Weymouth's Johnny Winter and know what an influence the 'great man' had on him. I knew Lee (in passing) even back when he was a schoolboy diligently humping his full size Fender Stratocaster back and forth to the guitar lessons at Weymouth College, and taking every opportunity to plat live gigs around the town's pubs. An exponent of the retro-speed style associated with Joe Satriani, Lee would add these immensely fast finger movement to the guitar breaks in even the slowest of Blues numbers. He was killed on the Weymouth bye-pass during one of my long trips away and not knowing his family, never did get the chance to pay tribute to him so this is it. Long may those Pitchfork keep Rambling wherever you are!

John Dawson Winter III during his heyday.

This Wren was putting on a fine vocal performance in the cemetery

as was this Coal Tit, along with its partner now holding territory. This remains my boggy bird as far as capturing an image is concerned. Even the only obliging individual I encountered in the New Forest earlier this year, was so darn scruffy the shots were condemned to the 'delete' file.

Radipole offered up only a single Swallow and half a dozen singing Chiffchaff, while at Ferry Bridge there wasn't a single bird on the half exposed fore-shore, so I can only echo the words of Portland Bird Observatory Warden Martin Cade on his web-site yesterday "Roll on Spring".

A 'jack-up' barge of sorts secured alongside in Portland Harbour was the only new highlight from my short visit to the Island today.

Where Did Those 12 Days Go?

Well, the Portland Gods were just not kind to us during Ille's visit to England this time. Rain persisted for the best part of the morning today and we were booked to go to the Turk's Head this afternoon so it will have to be next time at the Observatory. We have both had a great time under our own steam, but there are many of you who have contributed to make it that extra bit more exciting, to whom we both send a HUGE 'Thank You' for all your kindness and warm hospitality.

Whether there will be a 'post' tomorrow is doubtful as we catch the 08-48 train to Waterloo and when I'll get home is anyone's guess but assure readers normal service should be resumed on Monday, when I hope there will be a few migrants to report.

Ille, the Lady of Bath

as Ille would say, "Bagsy very hard working" - Radipole

Ille at JD Wetherspoon's

Another lady in oils by Ille

It's been an age since I've ventured down the Turk's Head but little seems to have changed there. The Garucci (maybe the wrong spelling Sheila) brothers still appear to be running a tight ship with the food and beer still of a high standard. The Swordfish was a little on the small side, but excellent, the Chicken was Chicken but the best of all was undoubtedly the Meat Loaf (but we didn't try the 'Bat Out of Hell').

Ille, Bagsy, Roy and Joy

Home Again, Home Again Jigety Jig!

The family Dampney, High, Darryl, Janet and Darryl's partner Kath

After last evenings culinary delight we were ready for a lie in. Hugh had taken the challenge of Master Chef and satisfied us all with individual Courgette Custards with Pimiento Sauce and a flinty Argentinian Savignon. Next came French sourced Confit of Duck (Petite Canard), Spinach, Butter Beans and sieved Parsnip in a Red Wine and Orange Jus (whoops that word again!) with a Lebanese Musar wine. Diverting from Hugh to Darryl who concocted the duff by way of a Vanilla Panacotta in Blueberry Sauce and a Brown Brothers Mucadet pudding wine.

Ille, Hugh, Janet and Me just before leaving

Ille experience her first English sunshine of the trip yesterday, but it was short lived as the heavens were emptying themselves this morning. The plan had ben to re-visit the watercress beds around the Waddock Cross area again and then continue on to Portland, but in both events it was simply too wet.

However, there were 2 glimmers of light in an otherwise dark day. Overlooked texts were finally read when we got home to say there was a Whooper Swan at Lodmoor, not only an addition to the 'year list' but the first I have ever seen in March plus a first for Lodmoor where it seemed to be happily settled.

This evening we were dinner guests of Bowie and Sheila who after a bit of a boozy start put on a lovely turkey dish with rice followed by a filo pastry strudel and cream. Having been driving for the past 4 days,the sudden bolt of alcohol soon found the weak points, so Ille and I baled out about 22-30 with a huge thanks to mine host.

Sheila just starting a 'throat lock' on Bagsy to try and stop him singing - big try!

and a little girly bonding, Ille making yet another Big Hit!

Hants and Dorset

a couple of images from last night:-

Despite Paul & Tess living in the heart of suburbia this female Pheasant put in an appearance in their back garden before we left for the pub.

At the Horse & Groom at East Ashling, West Sussex, Paul had the lamb shoulder, Tess the Haddock Fishcakes, Ille enjoyed Salmon in white sauce, and I Roast Duck, and very nice it all was.

This morning, after coddled eggs, we left for Christchurch and our friends Hugh and Janet Dampney at Parley Green. En route we made another bid for Goosander at Blashford Lakes, this time with success, A male in company with c2 females were lurking behind the shingle spit, but showed well enough for viewing but not for photography. Greylag Geese, Goldeneye, Black-necked Grebe and both large Woodpeckers were still in attendance but there was nothing else to add to the year list so we pushed on.

male Goosander

female Goosander

A pleasant enough drive through the New Forest, but arriving at Christchurch it seemed the whole population was mobile on their pre Easter drive, with not a car park space to be found. Plan B was to drive back out of town and catch a bus in to the centre, which we did.

The old guildhall, Christchurch, Dorset

Part of the castle ruins close to the Priory, Christchurch

Christchurch Priory

Fan Vaulting & Norman Arches within

A fine example of a 'misericord'. In the days of no seating, these thin lips of wood allowed the older members of the clergy to relieve their 'misery' by resting their backsides on the small seat. In all cathedrals and high churches the carving was individual, and at one time I collected photographs of as many as I could find.

The Rood Screne leading to the Lady Chapel

A Hatchment. A 'coat of arms' placed within the church to mark the rite of a wealthy family, seating would be allocated by rank, just as the Lord intended??

From here we drove to Parley Green arriving at Parley Court about 15-00.

Kingfisher was hoped for, either on the duck pond or on the River Stour, but that was not to be so we set about walking around the farm, finding Pied Wagtail on the way.

Parley Court Manor, the family home of the Dampneys

Outside the picturesque home of Mrs Dampney (Joan) senior.

Janet and Ille at the Parley Equestrian Centre

Putting a 'filly' through her paces.

Ille's first attempt at golf on the Parley Course.

and we were told Tiger Woods is shaking in his boots at the prospect!

Hants & West Sussex Visit

From last night's traditional Beef, Yorkshire Pudding and Thick, Thick Bisto Gravy dinner, from left Paul, Tess, Moi and Ille (for those who have asked it's pronounced E-la).

We continue our stay with dear friends Paul and Terry Lifton in Emsworth, Hants having to make a complete change of plans. To be kind, the weather of late has not been good but this morning it was appalling scotching any ideas of birdwatching on Farlington Marsh and Pagham Lagoon. So, braving the elements, a cold north west wind and persistant rain, we decided on a visit to Chichester and Bosham (West Sussex) plus a look around the village.

Chichester

The old Guildhall built during the reign of King George II (1683 - 1760)

Chichester Cathedral

The Naive & Quire. During this part of the tour I could air my knowledge of the origin of the expression 'the weak to the wall'. As part of the construction on most British cathedrals a stone 'step' was built around the inside perimeter of the building. In those days, seating of any kind was unheard of the congregation en-mass having to stand in the Naive for all services. This was 'all' except for the infirm who would use the 'step' as a seat. Hence 'the weak go to the wall'.

South Transept Window dating from the early 14th century, contains glass from Lorraine. It is also of note that the remains of English composer Gustav Theodore Holst 1874-1934 (The Planets Suite) lie close to and opposite this window.

Part of the Cloister.

Chichester Cross - built by and during the office of Edward Story as Bishop of the City between 1477 and 1503. Little more is known of the origin of the building.

With the rain persisting, we agreed on a visit to the 'West Cornwall Pasty Co' for a coffee and Oggy, where the lady proprietor was interested in my knowledge of this ancient fare. On my first Royal Navy ship HMS Keppel the crew were predominantly from the West Country, with ships comedian 'Lotty' Voss starting up an onboard society aptly named 'The Bodmin Moor Pasty Club'. Probably seeming futile to those who have not spend long, dreary periods at sea, we all gained great strength from this as we would meet each Sunday, not in a religious way, but to sing hymns (and other no so reverent songs) to while away a hour or two. On one occasion, Lotty's mum had sent him a huge Tiddy Oggy through the post, which arrived in many pieces. Distraught that a near relative had ended its days in such a way, he gently reassembled it, built a small coffin then mustered all club members for a Naval burial at sea, with full military honours. Oh what fun we had???? Anyroadup, as we left the cafe, after a good deal of banter with the afore mentioned owner, I volunteered to sing a short snatch of the Oggy Song bringing her to uncontrollable fits of laughter. She then gave me the link to her web-site insisting that I send her the lyrics, which of course I will do. Many will be familiar with the Oggy, Oggy, Oggy, Oi, Oi, Oi refrain of the chorus, and think that it was composed by some rugby fanatic, but let me tell you, you need to look to the West Country and the Royal Navy for the origins!

Bosham only just in West Sussex is noted for the attempts of King Canute to hold back the waves. Believing he was this almighty powerful his servants were charged with taking his throne to the sea-shore at Bosham where he would demonstrate to one and all that at his command the tide would retreat. Henceforth he was known as 'The King who got his Feet Wet'.

Bosham church, built about the time of the Conquest (1066) on the site of an old Saxon church and visited by the Venerable Bede (translator of the Bible into English) in AD681.

Ille beneath the Norman Arch

High Tide at the end of Bosham High Street

and finally:-

The Oggy Song

The unofficial Anthem of the Royal Navy and
the Battle Cry of the Devonport Field Gun Crew
(please, please don't argue with them as they make the average rugby 15 look like Girl Guides)

Half a pound of flour and marg makes lovely clacker (pastry)
Just enough for you and us ah bugger Janner (a West Countryman)
Oh how happy us will be when we gets to the West Country
where the Oggies grow on trees
Gor bugger Janner

You make fast kiss my ass make fast the dingy
We'll make fast kiss my ass make fast the dingy
and we'll all go back to Oggyland
to Oggyland to Oggyland
and we'll all go back to Oggyland
Where they can't tell sugar from tissue paper tissue paper
Marmalade and jam

Oggy, Oggy, Oggy, Oi, Oi, Oi
Oggy, Oi Oggy, Oi
Oggy, Oggy, Oggy, Oi, Oi, Oi

I hope this satisfies the lady in the West Cornwall Pasty Company, and

Long live The Bodmin Moor Pasty Club!