The Human Zoo

Ille is back in Tallinn, Estonia today, and after a smoother than expected coach ride I'm here in Weymouth. With all the tooing and froing of travel I'm lucky to have this capability to 'switch off' and simply watch the world go by. After the Stansted to London Victoria leg of the journey there was time for a couple of pints in The Travelers Inn, directly opposite the Coach Station, where I switched to Desmond Morris mode. The 'people watching' started as a seemingly insignificant young man arrived, bought a pint and repaired to the nearest 'one armed bandit' (or whatever the Politically Correct description is now they have no arm at all). There, he deftly started tickling the controls, as my thoughts quickly turned to 'Pinball Wizard', and within a couple of minutes he dropped a reasonable win. As the coins fell, he 'cupped' them with his hand ,which I thought a little strange, and decanted them into his holdall as I continued to watch. Soon he took the £70 jackpot following the same procedure, as it dawned on me that the coin catching was to save drawing attention to himself. Having bagged his prize he moved across the pub to the next 'bandit' where, within 5 minutes, he took the top money again. The final machine was at the far end of the bar and out of my view, but he spent little time there before he left the pub. Intrigued, I just had to walk to the door to follow his progress, watching him disappear into another tavern a little further down the road. During these observations, I saw no tools, magnets or devices, both of his hands seemingly empty - nice work if you can get it!

In the same pub a couple complained about the cleanliness of their pint glass, and it was slightly bizarre to see the barmaid simply tip the contents into another, presumably cleaner, glass rather than pull a brand new pint. However, it was outside and en-route that there was an air of Déjà vu. It seems much less, but exactly 4 years ago the nation was over run with a rash of St Georges crosses and over the past couple of weeks they have appeared again. World Cup fever is once again with us, and it seems the whole nation are supporters. Flags fly from private houses, pubs, business properties etc and it seems about 1 in 3 cars have sprouted at least one English banner. If you have ever traveled, just for instance, to the likes of the USA (in particular), Argentina, Brazil or even Ivory Coast you would be aware that this sort of behavior is a daily way of life, so why then does it only happen here when the Barmy Army are let loose? I have dubbed all these part timers 'The Two Week Patriots' and will be looking on E-Bay in 3 weeks time to buy second hand flags.

A year round patriot myself, but not a great football fan, I still hope we see this

turn to THIS!

Finally, a small point of order:- It is a fact that England will be the only team at this World Cup unable to append their country of origin / birth on the South African entry visa! Having lost our 'true identity' years ago the English are only allowed to write United Kingdom on all similar visas across the world, a travesty but nothing we can do about it - give us back our Birth Right.

RSPB Silly Season Continues

By the time I left home this morning at 06-00, it was already a bright, warm, cloud & windless summers day but from the cemetery there was little to report save for an adult Goldfinch feeding its young. Along the Radipole bye-pass at least 2 Blackcaps were still singing, and as I reached the reserve it was good to hear again the songs of Cetti's Reed and Sedge Warblers.

Even better was to encounter a small group of c6 Bearded Tit just north of the concrete bridge, both 'pinging' and feeding.

Passing a couple of Great Crested Grebes and a male Gadwall displaying to 2 females, I reached Edward's Folly (the shelter built by Lorne) and watched a Marsh Harrier hunting over what is left of the northern reed bed. Quartering the reeds and stopping momentarily, legs extended at what must be sighting of potential prey, has to be one of the great avian sights.

As I joined the main path I watched this Mute Swan delicately turning its eggs (at least 2) in a nest that has appeared since I went away.

It was also here I came across, not unexpectedly, the first 'strimming' of the year! This solid gravel path, throughout its full length, is on average 5 feet wide and quite adequate for any wheelchair activity ( they could in fact Troop the Colour there if they wished to do so), so why then the need for yet more disturbance by the RSPB. Unleashed dogs and cyclists are actively discourage by RSPB staff (albeit only occasionally) in the name of eliminating disturbance, but once again at the height of the nesting season we have this seemingly compulsive act of mowing the verges. In more years than I care to remember as a visitor to Radipole I have only ever seen 2 Cetti's Warbler nests (I doubt many including RSPB staff have ever seen one) and both were among these wild plant and sedges. How many of us annually harass various local councils to stop grass cutting during these vital weeks in an attempt to save recurrences of, for instance, the loss of the colony of Lizard Orchids at Farmer Palmers close to Sherford Bridge, while the 'wildlife vandals' of the RSPB continue strimming unhindered. I just don't get it, but feel confident that a FULL and THOROUGH SURVEY was carried out as part of their Risk Assessment Strategy.

A pair of Lesser Black-backed Gulls were sunning themselves on a waterside rail, while

ever present Canada Geese moved serenely up the lake.

Unfortunately, Ille's holiday is nearly at an end, meaning we have to travel to Stansted Airport today to meet her flight tomorrow. We are again staying overnight at the Radisson Blu so it is likely there will be no 'Post' tomorrow, but bare with us, we will return!

PS
Lost 3 of today's best pictures, one of which was a dead Carp of an estimated 10 pounds.

What A Difference A Month Makes

When I left for Eastern Europe on the first day of May, most birds in the local cemetery were still singing, trying to attract a mate. There were a few already feeding young (Robin and Blackbird) while some, like the pair of Collared Doves below, where busily carrying twigs to the sanctuary of an ancient fir tree.

Collared Dove, now utilising this chimney as a 'look-out' above a feeding post, while busily providing for their brood.

In addition several Goldcrest were silently foraging among the pines, as c2 family parties of Long-tailed Tit did likewise and Carrion Crow (probably feeding on some of those feeding), Chaffinch, Goldfinch, Song Thrush and Great Tit also fed young. It was good to be back, despite the reduced bird song, and ideally would liked to have continued through most of my usual haunts but time didn't allow today.

At the Westham Sluices, I once again encountered a male Pochard that we noted the day we arrived back, seeming a little out of place this far down the lake and subject to more human disturbance. Anyway, it seemed quite content floating around with head under wing, just as the male Hooded Merganser was doing.

Both male Pochard and

male Hooded Merganser (not looking half as resplendent as the day I left) contently roosting in the bright sunlight, until

c4 Mallards passed noisily by disturbing them both.

A bonus for me as I was then able to take a couple of 'head up' shots before they returned to a sleeping posture.

juvenile Starling looking up from its feeding to investigate me!

Little more to report from that area, I quickly moved on to Ferry Bridge and the main quarry of the day, the 'pair' of over-staying Red-breasted Merganser which were very quickly located close to the second Chesil Beach fishing hut i.e. miles away. With good numbers of recently fledged Starlings, now feeding themselves, to study plus c11 Little Terns, and singles of common and Sandwich Tern, there was something to focus the viewing. However, things were very different the Portland side of the bridge as the sand flats were completely devoid of birds. Not surprising given the Bank Holiday week being upon us, with bathers disturbing one side and dogs the other, when I would ask are the Waders going to get a chance. The signage here is woefully inadequate and I doubt the average 'dog-emptier' has even heard of a Dunlin, so until something is done to redress the balance I think we'll have a while to wait for a 'good' passage visitor to arrive and stay.

Both Merganser (the male above) did leave the sanctuary of the beach, and started fishing in the Fleet, but never came anywhere near enough for a photograph, so once again I have had to rely on archive shots.

female Red-breasted Merganser

On the plant front, I had missed the full 'flowering' cycle of Thrift (Sea Pinks) a splendid annual occurrence, but the at least the Birdsfoot Trefoil still presented a beautiful yellow carpet in places.

I also had to pop up to Easton (Portland) to see Kern Forden and on the way back bumped into Don Moxom, the Fleet Warden. He had some good news for me, as it is predicted that up to 10 pairs of Little Tern are nesting this year. Maybe that's because the RSPB stopped working in the colony a little earlier this year????

Ille had spent the whole day sat in the garden soaking up the sun, and my return coincided with that of my neighbour Joy and friend Roy, so we cracked a couple of bottles of Pinot Grigio and sat watching the setting sun.

Rain Stops Play - Or Not As the Case May Be!

Red-breasted Merganser in Dorset any time during June is a good record as far as I am concerned, mainly as I have never witnessed one in that month. So as the 'flaming' month kicked in I was disappointed to wake at 06-00 and find it chuckin' it down with rain. The plan had been to head straight for Ferry Bridge, where a lingering pair had forsaken their migratory instincts, but given the circumstances I turned over for an extra hour.

By 11-00 things had not changed, so Ille and I decided to cut our losses and head to The Swan for a late brunch and some further sight-seeing later if it cleared up. Unbeknown to us the celebrations were already in full swing for local business man Mick Plunckett's birthday and we arrived in time to share in a fine chocolate cake and a drink or two.

Some of the locals attending Mick's (white jacket) party, with my ex ship mate Ted King (foreground) sat next to his partner Vera Powell and in turn Val Watts etc, etc.

Mick and admirer.

Ille has long enjoyed what used to be our (UK) traditional dish, before curry took over, and opted for the fish and chips, while I went for the steak & kidney pudding, which at sea we knew familiarly as 'babies heads.

Another old shipmate I hadn't seen fora while, Mick Barge (and wife Chris), sat next to us for an hour sharing 'tales of the sea'.

and while I never thought I'd see the day when I featured a dog in these pages, Ille was so taken by a trio of St Bernard's that I thought why not.

It was also great to bump into Albert Gillan, ex-Chief Engineer and Basil the Taxi who of course sends his love and best wishes to Lisa.

Three Birthdays In One Day

There was no time set, so Ille and I arrived at The Shooting Box, Wrackleford (Thomas Hardy's Higher Crowstairs) at noon for what may well turn out to be the party of the year. The property, reputed to be the best 'shoot' in Dorset is set in rolling countryside just north of the county town of Dorchester, and is owned by brewery magnet Oliver Pope (Eldridge Pope & Co).

The Shooting Box

The view from the back windows, looking south towards Hardy's (Nelson's Sea Captain, not the bard) Monument.

John Stockley (Sooty to you and me) is my longest standing friend in Dorset, having met when I was a tender 13 year old and he one year my senior. Strange thing about the 'immediate' Stockley family is that most birthdays occur within a few days of each other. Apt then, close to daughter Leah's 18th, Sooty's 65th and son James' 40th, that a get together of such magnitude should be held at this tranquil spot.

Real friends stand on no ceremony, so I was quick to do the honours when the 'bubbly' needed dishing out.

The Minstral in the Gallery (Jethro Tull) a shot of the dining table from the gallery.

With Ille and fellow 'birder' Ashley (Fred) Watts as dinner is served.

Ille eying the 'crumpet, Russell Edwards (brother of Bowie) left and Fred again.

Some fantastic Blues, plus a little Boogie Woogie was presented by Stompin' Dave and his Electric Band. Stompin', foreground (keyboard & lead guitar), Graham Bundy (drums) and legendary Dave Saunders (bass guitar) of The Producers fame.

I can tell you, Ille and I spent little time sat down once this lot flashed up!

A Quiet Nook.

A Fine Pair (Pink Floyd).

and another, only the bloke on the left is 'finer'.

The immediate Stockley Clan just about complete.

Now here are a couple of lads who could chat all day!

Dave Saunders in full swing.

On the way off the property, both Ashley and I added Red-legged Partridge to our GB Year List.

Jollification - The Lightning Seeds (and plenty of it)

Apologies for being late going to press!

Our first venture out back here in Weymouth started on the right foot, with a Cuckoo in the Longcroft Cemetery. This is a first for me at my local site, and as I could hear it from home it is also added to the 'From Home List'. A little John Mayall (Blues From Laural Canyon, The Blues Alone & the seminal Crusade) with the coffee and toast and then off to Weymouth for a little more sight-seeing for Ille.

Ille and me at the end of Weymouth Stone Pier

A circuit of Weymouth harbour, then out to the end of the Stone Pier, where we found a 'colour ringed' Alba Wagtail (possibly White Wagtail) with bright pink ring on left leg, if this information is useful to anyone out there? Taking the rowing boat ferry from the Life Boat Station to the Pavilion, I reminisced with the Captain about the days when my Grandfather Scan Edwards did the same job in his later years. Most people think his 'nick-name' Scan was a shortened version of his real christian name Stanley, but during many happy talks with him I discovered that it simply stood for 'Scandalous', nice one Granddad wherever you are.

Ille Weymouth Stone Pier with Nothe Fort in the background.

Weymouth 'gig' the Sir Tristan returning to Weymouth Harbour after Sunday practice.

Overlooking Weymouth's dog infested beach from the south end. The phone call was just to confirm yet another party.

Walking back along the sea-front, a pint was anticipated and fortunately we bumped into 2 neighbors Joy Langford and Julie Farn enjoying lunch al fresco outside the Victoria Hotel, so joined them for an hour. Had I not gone on the Eastern European jaunt I would have gone to Berlin with Joy, from where she has just returned with tales of Nightingales, Woodpeckers and Deer.

An evening with Joe Bonamassa - Bournemouth International Centre.

It was as cheap to get a return taxi, door to door, than it was to take the train (says something about public transport doesn't it?), and arriving a couple of hours early to get something to eat.

The 'Band' arrive at the stage door, Bagsy, Ille, Sheila and Bowie (Lorne)

As far as the food was concerned we dropped extremely lucky visiting 'Steakout' right next door to the BIC, where the food, wine and Strongbow were excellent.

The concert opened in fairly mediocre fashion with 'down home' American blues shouter Sandi Thom. She and her band of very good musicians didn't exactly set the audience alight, and the set was only saved by the 'self penned' third number, In the Valley of the Blues, and some red hot 'harp' playing by the lady herself reminiscent of Sonny Boy Williamson.

Now, when I say I've seen 'most' of them over the years, that includes the likes of Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac, Mayall, Clapton, David Gilmore, Rory Gallagher et al. What I hadn't seen, until last night, was such a 'complete' set of Rock 'n' Roll by what are arguably the finest 4 musicians playing together in the world today!

Armed with trademark double-neck Fender, Bonamassa simply strolled onto the stage, and without greeting, or warning launched straight into The Ballard of John Henry. I don't ever remember a crowd going so wild of a single strum of a guitar - "Who killed John Henry, in the battle of Sinners and Saints".

Having 'slayed' everyone in the room with what has become his signature number, it was hard to see how the evening was going to get any better musically, but we didn't have to wait long. Again without formality he simply changed guitar and embarked on the haunting Last Kiss, with bassist Carmine Rojas steeling the scene with bass lines that could show Jack Bruce a little direction. It had just got better.

If the 4 of us had sat down before the gig and devised a 'play list', with the exception of the heart jerking Story of a Quarryman, it was all here, and by the third number, So Many Roads, the tears had literally begun to flow. After this, he did stop for a very quick "Hello Bournemouth", but he was here to play not to talk so it was straight on with 3 tracks in a row from the much acclaimed new album Black Rock, of which Trick or Treat was outstanding. I am going to buy this album even if it's for that track alone!

Returning to more of what are now considered standard Bonamassa classics, he simply ripped the head off High Water Everywhere, with Bogie Bowles playing probably the 4th best drums I've ever witnessed (the others being Phil Collins dueting with Chester Thompson, Ginger Baker and of course Bonzo).

The numbers just kept coming and coming, there were no short-cuts, but as his 'roadie' handed him that hallmarked Gibson Flying V we knew the end was nigh. Asking Around for You was interrupted midstream by the Zeppelin classic guitar break from Dazed and Confused,

with Joe perched high on the amplifier bank and cheekily climaxing with the Flying V salute.

There were only 2 disappointment to the whole evening, one was I was too busy taking this photo not to catch the thrown plectrum that landed at my feet, and quickly scooped up by a very grateful fan, and these crap photographs. To try and redress this, here are a few from photographers far better than I.

Joe center stage, Carmine Rojas bass guitar, Bogie Bowles drums, Rick Melick keyboards.

Joe Bonamassa


Carmine Rojas

Mr Rojas and keyboard player Rick Melick

and Bogie Bowles

My final broadside would be to say that those of you who were not there, should do the next best thing and buy the DVD Joe Bonamassa Live at the Royal Albert Hall (£14, which I will personally refund if you don't like it). SENSATIONAL is too smaller word to describe this quartet - just get out there and have a listen!

Yours aye
Another Satisfied Customer