… the answer to a question, the most important thing to do is to ask the question.
And I now know all about the Pluto and the Victress.
I was flat-out in my stinking little pit when the alarm went off this morning. Which totally surprised me because I’m lucky to be still here
I was well-away with the fairies last night, starting off on my old Honda Melody looking for an ice cream. And on the way back I was passed by a couple riding horses rather recklessly down a narrow street. 100 yards further on they had been stopped by a plain-clothes policeman in a silver Range Rover who was giving them both a lecture and an on-the-spot fine, so as I rode past, I made a few remarks of … errr … “encouragement”. It was then that I realised that I had no insurance, road tax or MoT and with the number plate I knew that it would be checked immediately. No hope of flight of course so after a minute or two of wracking my brains I decided to leave the bike in the back yard where I lived and clear off. Of course I did that but I hadn’t gone 50 yards when the landlady stuck her head out of the back gate and told me that I was wanted. No hope of escape now.
A little later I was on a push-bike going into Newcastle upon Tyne. But it certainly wasn’t the Newcastle upon Tyne that I ever knew. I’d taken the route twice and so didn’t have my map with me but I was pretty certain of where I was going so it was no problem. So down the hill, turn left and then round this sweeping right-hand bend following the tramlines – a road that would take me very close to the city centre. But here on this corner, people kept stepping off the kerb right in front of me. And for some reason or other, this degenerated into a situation that appears quite regularly in my nocturnal voyages – namely that I have Mark III Ford Cortinas scattered all over the town in various states of MoT and Tax and Insurance, and I need to consolidate them all so that only the 100%-legal ones are on the road and the rest are safely stored otherwise I’ll lose them, including my precious estate car.
After breakfast and a little pause to gather my wits (which doesn’t take too long these days) I hit the streets, direction town. It was a lovely morning, that’s for sure.
Down the hill and down the bank, and then down the ramp to the harbour and there was a superb view of the Marité looking so splendid in the sunlight
I’m determined that one of these days I shall go out aboard her, even if it is only for a lap around the bay. But I bet that I’ll be very disappointed and find that it will be a diesel-powered “sailing” all the way.
That will be sad.
There was another pile of scrap on the quayside, mostly old agricultural stuff and the usual scrap fridges and cookers.
This seemed to bear out my theory from the other day about the Victress and Pluto bringing it in. But then I had another idea.
By this time I was down near the harbour offices so I popped in to ask them about the ships.
And it seems, I’m wrong. Yes, it does happen occasionally, which I know will surprise you all.
There’s a big quarry near Avranches that produces a special kind of stone and every so often Victress and Pluto come in to load up 2400 tonnes per trip to take back to the UK.
But they always come in empty – it’s not they who bring in the scrap.
So who’s bringing in the scrap then?
It didn’t take me long to find out.
No prizes whatever for guessing what this is – or, rather, was.
She’s the Grima and her claim to fame is that she was formerly the ferry that operated the Shetland Island Council route between Bressay and Lerwick between 1972 and 1992.
She has a carrying capacity of about 8 or 9 cars or so and was sold when the volume of traffic began to overwhelm her. She eventually became a work-boat for the Lerwick fishing industry
She was still displaying her “Lerwick” lifebelts so I hailed the crew who were relaxing on deck.
“Blimey! You’ve come a long way in that”
“Not really” replied the skipper. “Only from Jersey”.
It appears that she now sails out of Jersey and comes into Granville a couple of times each week bringing in the scrap (there are no scrap-processing facilities on the island) and taking back building supplies, wood and the like.
She’s probably not licensed for passengers, but I have a Cunning Plan. You don’t need a maritime permit or whatever to be a ship’s cook and my cooking has never killed anyone yet – although I have seen a couple of people stagger out of my kitchen.
They say that there’s a time for fishing – and a time for mending the nets.
Clearly for today it’s the latter. Here they all are with their needles and thread having a good old sew and sew.
That looks as if it’s the kind of job that might take for ever with a net that size, so good luck to them
We all know what these are, but what surprised me was what they are doing out of the water.
And even more importantly, have they put anything back in to replace them? It would be exciting if they hadn’t.
It’s a little-known fact that Michael Jackson applied to join the US Navy. But he withdrew his application after the Recruiting Officer told him
“I don’t care how it’s pronounced. Those things that line the approaches to every harbour are called BUOYS”.
I headed off around town to check my bank accounts (money STILL not received) and where I bumped in to my neighbour again as I had done last week.
Next stop was to see the estate agents to warn them of my absence. And I forgot to check the times of the buses for the station in … GULP … just 30 days time.
Lunch was once again on the wall overlooking the harbour.
Not much going on today but I did watch the ferry for the Iles de Chausey heading off with quite a crowd on board. Sea as calm as a millpond so they probably all had a good time.
And I had a new lunchtime companion today. Never mind the four lizards who always come to see me – when I dropped my apple core onto the ground for the wildlife, a brown mouse appeared – right at my feet – and dragged it off into the undergrowth to munch at its leisure.
Apart from that, I’ve been bashing away on the blog once more. Not quite the 20-odd (and sometimes more) pages of recent date though.
I ran aground round about 7th January 2013 and that’s when it all went haywire as my concentration and efforts were diverted. So I’ve advanced to June 2013 where there’s a couple of weeks that need to be done.
Then the difficult bits will start.
That wasn’t the only reason that I fell behind. The walk this morning had taken quite a lot out of me and I was totally out of it for two hours and more this afternoon. I clearly can’t last the pace.
But with the final batch of kidney bean and aubergine whatsit having bitten the dust today, and having had a good chat with Liz and Rosemary, I’m ready for bed.
And quite right too. Shopping tomorrow!
