Bills Posts

What an interesting weekend. The New Forest Marathon was OK. It was good to be out with my radio kit, helping on an activity, and I felt perfectly safe doing it. When it’s time for me to get my radio vehicle it ought to be a 4×4?

OK, so whilst driving towards Wimborne St Giles yesterday, I saw this derelict church, and I really wanted to visit it. Luckily, today I had time to do so, both in the morning and on the way back after the event. Knowlton Church, the sign at the entrance says the church is 14th century, but some articles say it’s 12th century. Apparently, it’s a very haunted site. It was atmospheric to visit. I’m not sure what atmosphere it was, but I thought about what people could have built the earthworks and the now destroyed stone circle, and the people who built the church and worshipped there. A really fascinating place to visit.

The New Forest Marathon normally takes place…in the New Forest. Not this year though. The body that governs the New Forest (not sure who that is) wouldn’t allow it to happen, partly because of Covid, partly because of the impact of relaxations of the restrictions that had been imposed decided that the NFM couldn’t be run under their licence this year.

Rather than cancel, the NFM governing body decided to try and find another location, and a landowner near Wimborne St Giles kindly agreed to allow it to happen, but obviously very strict adherence to Covid safety measures was a primary requirement. Which was done. I was at a point on the course, which because of the lay out was Mile-8 and also Mile-21. If you use what 3 words, I was at; zones.manicured.absorbs

Of course, sat in one place for upwards of seven hours makes the brain do things. The first thing I noticed were the dust devils; there were several of them OK, were they really dust devils because they were very small? But it was fun watching them form and scoot across the field, I watched one come down the road towards me, I’d swear it swerved off down a sidetrack about 20 yards from me. I wanted to photograph one, and of course no more appeared. Then it was the sand storm, you could see them building up on the track I was on, the wind was blowing straight in to my face. I would watch the dust pick up in a breeze, build up and then hit me in the face. It got to the point where I would watch it form, and start moving then I’d turn around so that it wouldn’t get me in the face and watch it blow past. I want to photograph that, and of course no more formed.

I might get another chance tomorrow, as I am back there again.

I haven’t taken a photograph today, and I had several opportunities. To be honest, I didn’t think about it until about 6 o’clock tonight, when we were down at Stokes Bay, for some reason I can’t explain I just didn’t get out of the car to take a picture.

I’ve spent a lot of today messing around with computers, and talking about fences (boundary markers, rather than any other kind). So not much to write about today. More tomorrow.

As a plant, Sunflowers are amongst my favourite. There’s something about them that just appeals to me. This one is growing through the path in the middle of the veggie patch.

This part of the veggie patch is near the bird table. So, either the starlings or the pigeons, who are not particularly neat eaters – indeed, I’ve seen them throw seed quite a distance in there exuberance. Either that or they are disgusted at the contents of the table. Which doesn’t really hold up seeing as I have to replenish it every day.

Anyhow, I suspect I may be too late for this batch of sunflowers, but next years, if some grow again I may look into giving them a bit of a mollycoddle.

We had planned to go to Fishbourne Palace today for a day out. Of course, it was only as I checked for opening times this morning that we found out that it was closed.

There’s a bit of a difference between visiting an historic archeological site of an roman villa and a quick tour around a garden centre. Lunch helped just a little bit a sausage baguette with caramelised onion, and a little bit of (actually not very exciting) side salad. The sandwich was quite nice.

Then we came home and sat in the garden, reading and snoozing. Turns out, it was quite a nice day.

Yesterday, I promised I would write about the Cumbrian Fisher. Apparently, she is on loan to the MOD. It’s nearly always berthed next to Gosport Marina, slowly discharging her cargo in to the holds of other ships. Every so often she leaves port to refuel. I’d noticed last week that she wasn’t at her normal station.

When I arrived at the ferry, it was in time to see a tug come in through the harbour entrance. As the nose of the ship came in, I realised it was the Cumbrian Fisher. I wondered how they were going to work it, take it up to the turning circle, I didn’t think the tugs would turn here on the spot, but that’s what they did, and then pushed her sideways on into the berth. Fascinating to watch, the skills of the tug drivers is exceptional. On Twitter, I follow Tug Master Lloyd (@Towing_man) who is a tug driver. I’ve asked him if there is a word in the industry for the process of marshalling a ship.

A very interesting period in the morning.

I’ve had Internet problems today, and was concerned that I would have to resort to tethering to my phone to get a post done. Anyhow, I thought I would go over to Portsmouth to have a browse around Waterstones. There were very few people in the shop, and I had no problems keeping my self isolated, of course with a mask in place.

Clearly, the picture isn’t of Waterstones. It is of the old cathedral. There has been a church of some kind on the site since 1180. I walked all around the outside and then went in for a look around. I took the opportunity to contemplate. The only time anyone spoke to me was to warn me a test of the fire alarm was imminent.

I walked back to the ferry going via Gunwharf.

I’ll write about the Cumbrian Fisher tomorrow.

Just a single picture of part of King’s Somborne. This village is on the route of the Clarendon Way. This is a walk that runs from Salisbury to Winchester, a distance of about 24 miles. Every year, the Naomi House Children’s Hospice sponsors a walk on the route.

This year, there were just over 100 walkers taking part in the sponsored walk. As a member of RAYNET, we were placed at various points along the route to check on the progress of participants and to provide communications to Marshall’s on the walk.

It was a glorious, sunny morning, warm in a picturesque part of the country. A very pleasant time, and it was a pleasure to be of assistance to the public. A very nice morning.

Admittedly, this could be a cruise ship anywhere. But it isn’t. It’s one of seven ships that were today anchored in the bay off Weymouth, Dorset. The ships are (the only word I can think of) furloughed because of Corona Virus. This is the Aurora, owned by the Carnival Line, The other ships were; Marella Discovery, Queen Elizabeth, P&O’s Britannia, Queen Victoria, Marella Explorer, Queen Mary. The Jewel of the Seas was berthed at Portland Bill. We have been on two of these ships, and were due to go on a third. Then Lockdown kicked in, putting a stop to that.

These seven ships would normally carry about three thousand people each. Every day they are here, not doing their job, means around 21,000 people are not on holiday. When operational, each of these ships would have at least a thousand crew, from the captain down. Are these people all on board still? Have they been sent home? Many of the crew(s) are not British, therefore not subject to our laws, therefore not furlowed. Are they receiving pay? Do they even have a job? I don’t know, but I wish them well, not that it will do them any good.

It was an amazing and lovely view, something that you wouldn’t normally see, but it symbolises a sad and disturbing time, with no end in sight.

The gulls descend on the thrown chips, a ravening hoard, screaming and bellowing they fight for each chip. It would be nice to think that they all get their fair share, but sadly I don’t think they do.

When I walk through the town I see baby seagulls that weaning, they are calling for their parents to feed them, beginning to realise that they are being let loose into the world, their parents next contribution to the gene pool. The call is quite distressing, like all babies crying, very difficult to ignore. Ultimately, hunger will force them to join the mob.

As they say, part of the cycle of life.