fisherman – derrickjknight

Mudeford Murk

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Today the gloomy gales are back.

Headlights were the order of the day, even at 3.00 p.m. when we arrived at an almost deserted Mudeford Quay, where I brightened none of my photographs, in order that readers could see what we saw.

My specs and camera lens dripping with fat raindrops; coat soaked by salty sea spray; legs braced akimbo in an effort to stay upright, I had great difficulty in focussing on anything.

Distant hardy sailboarders, one dog walker;

a lad and his Dad trying at angling;

windswept women straining to steady buggies;

even a solitary gull out of its element, struggled against the gusts,

although some of the birds took to the air in search of sustenance, while crows remained on the car park tarmac.

Networks of glistening roots lay poised to trip the unwary.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy penne Bolognaise and Cook’s choice crumble crusted macaroni cheese furnished by Ian, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Malbec.

Painting, Sailboarding, And Fishing.

Returning after four days of Platinum Jubilee celebrations, and after his painstaking preparation, Nick was able to

almost complete his ground floor painting today.

Afterwards Jackie and I took a short forest drive. Sailboarders were out on the Solent against the backdrop of the Isle of Wight. The colourful expert disappeared out of sight until turning up alongside the island. His companion was receiving instruction from our shore.

A solitary fisherman was perhaps hoping for a catch or two.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s wholesome sausage casserole, spicy red cabbage, boiled potatoes; and Becky’s crunchy vegetable bake, with which Becky drank Zesty; Jackie and Ian, premium Weisbier; and Doom Bar for me.

A Dog Cart

Late this morning I published https://derrickjknight.com/2021/10/06/a-knights-tale-46-ok-how-did-you-do-it/

We then drove to Steamer Point and

brunched at the Beach Hut Café at Friars Cliff. This has been our first visit since before Covid. I needed no further sustenance this evening.

Many customers dined alfresco. We were the only couple inside, because

we couldn’t find a place to ourselves.

One gentleman made short work of his ice cream.

Some visitors kayaked or swam in the albeit brisk water, turbulent waves of which

tossed spray against breakwater rocks.

A lone fisherman stood optimistically watching his line.

Small groups thronged the promenade.

Dog walkers wandered along the shingle. There is a surprise at the end of this gentleman’s lead.

An ingenious dog cart. Enlargement may help to view it.

Passing a gentleman painting his beach hut,

we bade farewell to the beach, and turned into the forest.

Ponies cropped the verges of Warnes Lane just outside Burley.

Others were to be seen alongside Forest Road,

and, further on, we listened to the squeaking of satisfied pink piglets,

and the scampering snorts of small saddlebacks in search of mast.

Surfing For Fish

Jackie has a row of shells lined up on a low stone wall. This morning as she stepped into the garden to photograph

a pot of pansies underneath which are planted tulips she noticed that these shells have been tossed all over the place. This set her thinking that either the wind had wreaked havoc or that Eric the Pheasant who last year specialised in this wanton distribution had returned.

Sure enough, Eric was back.

Today’s weather was much brighter, albeit somewhat cooler. We drove to The Beach Hut Café at Friars Cliff for a hearty brunch.

After our meal we each produced a set of photographs. As a gentleman I always allow the lady to go first, so there follows Jackie’s contribution:

She first pictured the bay, creating a panoramic view with the Isle of Wight in the distance.

Beach scenes with huts came next.

Unbeknown to me she lurked around the corner of the promenade and caught me snapping.

I was intrigued by the waves and spray breaking on the rocks and sliding along sand and shingle.

A lone fisherman, the sun glinting on his spectacles, kept a vigil throughout and after our meal. I am not aware that he caught anything,

which is more than can be said for a small surfing gull family.

Dogs are not permitted on the beach between May and October, but, at this time of the year their owners make hay. Some time after I took this set three loose alsatian-type dogs raced around the beach huts. They belonged to the gentleman in the red jacket – not me. At the end of a row of huts ascends a steepish slope still necessitating me holding the rail as I begin the climb back up to the car park. I was not best pleased when one of these creatures bounded round the bend and narrowly missed colliding with me. Unfortunately the owner was out of sight and I hadn’t the energy to seek him out.

Before I began that ascent I witnessed the progression of a stone-throwing apprenticeship. A little boy with a man I assumed to be his grandfather picked up quite a large missile which he

handed over to his companion who,

watched by the lad, chucked it into the waves.

The junior then gathered up smaller stones and, with unerring accuracy tossed them directly ahead into the spray.

He was well into his task as I departed.

This evening we dined on pepperoni pizza with plentiful fresh salad.

Winter Quarters

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN CLUSTERS ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.

Fibre optic broadband installation takes place in the exchange, and we cannot obtain a projected time for the work. It could be as late as midnight. James Peacock will therefore bring the router tomorrow morning. So the uploading struggles continue today.

Today’s fresh blooms in the rose garden are those of Crown Princess Margareta; and the honeysuckle on the entrance arch is under the reasonable impression that Spring has arrived.

This afternoon we visited Dials on the bottom corner of Quay Street, Lymington, to buy a Christmas present;

then walked down to the quayside. A friendly young fisherman I have featured both in Lymington and in Mudeford, was steering his little boat into dock. I wonder if his

and this one are kinds of coracle.

My young friend explained that he spends the period from the winter months to Easter at Lymington, because this calmer harbour is much safer than the other, which is exposed to the open sea. Crab pots, ropes, and buoys are neatly piled on the quay.

There was no other activity on the water with its forest of masts,

except for that of mallards and gulls ignoring the signs forbidding diving and mooring.

This evening we enjoyed a second helping of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s delicious food. Jackie drank Hoegaarden whilst I chose Doom Bar.