tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45888457557316686572023-06-15T13:19:59.309-07:00Insights of Nostalgiatrips down memory laneDonald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-44421070326492319382014-06-09T06:48:00.001-07:002014-06-09T06:48:43.188-07:00Fishing off Donald Trumps new purchase.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Turnberry_Golf_Course%2C_Lighthouse_and_Ailsa_Craig_-_geograph.org.uk_-_164311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="English: Turnberry Golf Course, Lighthouse and..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted zemanta-img-configured" height="168" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/ad/Turnberry_Golf_Course%2C_Lighthouse_and_Ailsa_Craig_-_geograph.org.uk_-_164311.jpg/350px-Turnberry_Golf_Course%2C_Lighthouse_and_Ailsa_Craig_-_geograph.org.uk_-_164311.jpg" style="border: currentColor; font-size: 0.8em;" width="350" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 350px;">English: Turnberry Golf Course, Lighthouse and Ailsa Craig. Facing South West (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Turnberry_Golf_Course%2C_Lighthouse_and_Ailsa_Craig_-_geograph.org.uk_-_164311.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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Donald Trump has bought Turnberry Hotel and the golf courses that occupy the grounds. It is a world renown course, used for many open tournaments over the years and looks over the Firth of Clyde towards the Alisa Craig. Beautiful views over the sea from a beautiful countryside, what more could a rich man want.<br />
Well I don't care what rich men desire, I have worked hard all my life and do not have a fortune to show for it but I do have a nice relaxed retirement with sea angling in the very sea that stretches out in front of Trumps new empire to keep me amused during the summer months.<br />
I worked as a commercial fisherman simply because I was born and bred into the industry and proud of it, proud to follow the footsteps of my ancestors, going back generations.<br />
Life was hard and money scarce at times but the good times made up for the poor ones and all in all I made a reasonable living while learning to budget for the necessities of life.<br />
As fishermen we toiled long hours through storms with icy cold seas crashing over our heads in open decked boats<br />
Now I can go out to sea in my little boat whenever I feel like it and of course only when the weather is favourable and I am sure I am enjoying the pleasures surround Trump's new empire without all the stress and strain he has put on himself building the empire he has accumulated.<br />
OK that was his goal and his choice and I chose mine too, so rather than complain or be jealous I am happily content.<br />
I doubt though if Donald Trump will ever find the contentment I have even though he has all those riches, because whereas he will always be wanting more, I on the other hand having come through all the hardships can appreciate what I have now.<br />
Since Trump purchased Turnberry, every time I am out on the sea looking back at his little corner of Scotland, it makes me appreciate all the more the person I am and what I have accomplished in my life without the need to strive for more.<br />
I Donald Swarbrick will go to my grave a more contented man than Donald Trump, feeling I have played the part I was born for.<br />
Whereas Donald Trump will die feeling he had more to achieve.<br />
Who do you think had the best life, the man who thought money was the most important thing in life or the man who enjoyed and appreciated just living?<br />
<br />
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Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-71881578251819667432013-03-09T09:46:00.000-08:002013-03-09T09:46:36.183-08:00Spot the Porpoise.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
If you look closely to the left of the video you will see a porpoise surfacing quickly before it dives again.<br />
That day we had about twenty of them swimming and playing around us for hours and every time I got my camera phone ready to film them they would disappear.<br />
Once I gave up and started fishing again they would surface and play around.<br />
It was as if they were trying to evade the paparazzi. ha ha.<br />
Robbie managed to get better film of them the previous day before I joined him but I don't have them on my computer or I would show you them, so you will have to be eagle eyed enough to catch them in this clip.<br />
<br />
We did catch some cod that day even though we were concentrating more on the porpoises.<br />
Well..... enough for a good feast when I got home at least.<span id="goog_427041166"></span><span id="goog_427041167"></span><br />
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As you can see some makerel and a whiting was also in the box and were eaten at a later date, but the cod went straight into the pan when I got home and were as delicious as you would expect from fish as fresh as that.<br />
<br />Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-22441244202501539852013-03-05T00:58:00.003-08:002013-03-05T01:00:23.205-08:00Winter hibernation.It will soon be time for the new season to start and I have not added any more of the stories I promised you, but I have been very busy in other aspects of life so please accept my apologies.<br />
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Fast "n" Luce has been under wraps for the winter but with the sun showing its face in the last few days, it has given me the chance to clean her up and give her a paint.<br />
As the outside has a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gelcoat" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Gelcoat">gel coat</a>, a good wash is all that is needed there except for the fresh coat of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biofouling" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Biofouling">anti-fouling</a> on her hull.<br />
The inside is all white and clean and the wooden rails on her cuddy has been varnished.<br />
The deck has still to be painted but I will leave that until all the other jobs are completed, not that there is much to do, just add some rod holders forward on each side and rig up the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bilge_pump" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Bilge pump">bilge pump</a> to the electrics.<br />
If I get the time I will write about her last trip when I caught some cod, and all in all had good catches of white fish every time I went out on her, but getting her so late in the season meant that I was only beginning to enjoy the pleasures of the more modern and able boat before it was time to tuck her down for the winter.<br />
As it was late in the season though, I did find out how she faired on rough seas as I had to punch my way home a couple of times when I was fishing off <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.4,-4.75&spn=0.1,0.1&q=55.4,-4.75%20(Dunure)&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Dunure">Dunure</a> with Robbie.<br />
The wind and sea whipped up on two occasions just as we were about to call it a day, but it was fun heading home, punching into the waves and getting my face covered in spray again, just like old times when I was commercial fishing.<br />
The new boat passed with flying colours, as did my stomach........... which after all the years that have passed since I did it for a living was quite reassuring.<br />
<br />
Here's cheers til the next time.<br />
<br />
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Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-7978399793768471652012-11-18T09:23:00.001-08:002012-11-18T09:32:30.460-08:00A little care gets you there.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:The_Ayrshire_coastline_-_geograph.org.uk_-_992270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="English: The Ayrshire coastline A telephoto sh..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="200" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c1/The_Ayrshire_coastline_-_geograph.org.uk_-_992270.jpg/300px-The_Ayrshire_coastline_-_geograph.org.uk_-_992270.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">English: The Ayrshire coastline A telephoto shot from the summit of Grey Hill showing the entrance to the harbour at Girvan on the right and Turnberry lighthouse on the far left, with Turnberry Village to the right of the lighthouse. Girvan is in NX while Turnberry is in NS. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:The_Ayrshire_coastline_-_geograph.org.uk_-_992270.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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Here is one of the stories I promised you.<br />
<br />
One day
when I went to the boat (still Chasca at the time) old George, an old
guy with a small boat of his own asked me if I was going out. <br />
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The photo is of me and Robbie trying to sort out one of the many problems I had with Chasca's engine.<br />
<br />
"Aye,
once I get the fuel and other odds and ends on board I am heading down
to the light, (Turnberry Lighthouse) to see if the mackerel are still
about." I replied.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Want a passenger" He asked.<br />
"I don't see why not." I replied, not knowing what I had let myself in for.<br />
<br />
I was ready to let the ropes go when old George hobbled down the marina walkway carrying his fishing rod and life jacket, threw them aboard then attempted to board himself.<br />
Easier said than done.<br />
As I stood forward to assist him he shakily placed his foot over the rail of the boat to step on the deck, and not realising how far down the deck was, promptly fell aboard knocking my sunglasses off and landing unceremoniously in a heap on top of the fuel tank at the stern of the boat.<br />
"Well that's me aboard he grunted" laughing as he struggled to his feet.<br />
Off we set, and 15 minutes later we were in 60 feet of water off Turnberry Lighthouse.<br />
The mackerel started to bite as soon as our lines began to sink, and with one haul George's fish came up with a seal nibbling at the fish dangling at the end of his line. On seeing the large dark shape emerging he got such a fright, he thought he had caught a shark, and panicked until he realised what it was.<br />
"That's never happened before." He said. "Well that's because you never venture far." I said having a good laugh. <br />
Before long we had a good feed each, so bored with fish that were easily caught I told old George that we would head north a bit to see if we could get some white fish like cod or lithe or pollock to give it an other name.<br />
Old George, as you will have gathered by now was not the fittest of men, hence the fact that when he put to sea in his own boat he always had someone with him and only ventured yards from the harbour, catching enough mackerel to give him and his wife a feed now and then as they holidayed in their static caravan situated in the local caravan park.<br />
<br />
His eyes lit up at the thought of venturing out to waters he had never fished but soon dimmed when the engine slowed down on its own, thirty seconds after I had set course and given her full throttle.<br />
"Don't worry" I reassured him." It does that frequently but always picks up and then runs fine, its the carb. that's at fault, but the engine is too old to get parts. A bit like you." I added giving us both a laugh as the engine picked up, much to my relief.<br />
George rolled a cigarette and enjoyed a smoke as I headed north to the top end of Culzean Bay where the water shallows on a small reef and lithe are known to gather there.<br />
The water was nice and clear and the reef was visible under us which made George ask if it was safe enough.<br />
"Get your line over and see, but don't let it touch the bottom or you might lose your hooks." I told him.<br />
The boat was drifting into shallower water so, with George panicking and no fish to be had I moved off a bit to where the bottom disappeared from view and George's hand stopped shaking.<br />
George was the first to get a bite not long after our lines were sunk and before he got his catch aboard I had one hooked to.<br />
"We are in among them." Old George shouted as he excitedly hauled his line up as fast as he could.<br />
Sure enough we both landed nice lithe onto the deck. threw them into our boxes and cast again, but I had forgot to let George know that we were still on the reef and to keep his line clear of the bottom.<br />
No sooner was his line cast and he was shouting again. "Its a big one this time." He grunted as he struggled to wind in his line.<br />
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Old George's fish is in the basin, mine is in the bucket, and at the end of the day we were about even.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When I looked round I realised that his hooks were stuck on the bottom, and try as we might it would not shift so, nothing else for it I had to tie his line and break it away by moving the boat forward.<br />
This freed it but his hooks were lost, and as he had not brought any more with him I decided to call it a day.<br />
We had a good catch on board, and old George having had enough excitement for one day was only too happy to head back to the harbour.<br />
George stood back out of harms way as I moored up at the berth in the marina, but he was so stiff in the legs that it took him an age to finally set foot on the pier. Fearing that he would fall back on me I kept well out of his way instead of helping him but he made it and walked back to his own boat to clean his fish.<br />
NEVER AGAIN! I thought to myself, and only later found out that some others had be caught out as I was and they too had vowed not to take him out again.<br />
He was fun to have as company but a danger to himself and all who sailed with him.<br />
Pity because he loved going out, then again he always had his own boat to fall back on (Hope you don't mind the pun.) as long as someone was brave enough to go with him.<br />
Some weeks later he was telling a group of fellow boat owners who had gathered to hear his always, exaggerated stories for our amusement about his day on Chasca.<br />
He always managed to laugh at himself, and as he ended his tale, he added.<br />
"I had never been as far north before, and it was when I spotted the icebergs that I started to worry, otherwise everything was fine."<br />
We all had a good laugh listening to him describe how he thought he had caught a shark, and even though I was there I almost believed the added parts like the icebergs, such was the sincerity on his face as he spun his yarn.<br />
Aye that's what you call an old sea dog I thought, even though he only fished yards from the shore, and I can only imagine the yarns he would have spun if he had actually been on old sea dog.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<li class="zemanta-article-ul-li-image zemanta-article-ul-li" style="background: none; display: block; float: left; font-size: 11px; list-style: none; margin: 2px 10px 10px 2px; padding: 0; text-align: left; vertical-align: top; width: 84px;"><a href="http://sisterkrista.wordpress.com/2012/11/07/how-the-big-one-got-away-gee-whiz/" style="border-radius: 2px; box-shadow: 0px 0px 4px #999; display: block; padding: 2px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img src="http://i.zemanta.com/124263436_80_80.jpg" style="border: 0; display: block; margin: 0; max-width: 100%; padding: 0; width: 80px;" /></a><a href="http://sisterkrista.wordpress.com/2012/11/07/how-the-big-one-got-away-gee-whiz/" style="display: block; height: 80px; line-height: 12pt; overflow: hidden; padding: 5px 2px 0 2px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">How the BIG ONE got away!!! Gee Whiz!!!</a></li>
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Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-57222342336838135202012-09-23T02:15:00.002-07:002012-09-23T02:20:11.594-07:00Fast "N" Luce on its second trip with Donald.Here is some photos of Chasca's replacement during the second day out with me and during a successful days fishing.<br />
This is just a taster of whats to come.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kXp2BAsjG28/UF7SsYi8jTI/AAAAAAAAAlk/eOmfZuAHlZ0/s1600/Fast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kXp2BAsjG28/UF7SsYi8jTI/AAAAAAAAAlk/eOmfZuAHlZ0/s320/Fast.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2ymA2OJU83A/UF7S4qP-6FI/AAAAAAAAAl0/S8rpBNQx6jE/s1600/Fast+%27n+Luce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2ymA2OJU83A/UF7S4qP-6FI/AAAAAAAAAl0/S8rpBNQx6jE/s320/Fast+%27n+Luce.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cjHPVUi8aE4/UF7S_5KPDiI/AAAAAAAAAl8/xrULOadFfmI/s1600/Luce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cjHPVUi8aE4/UF7S_5KPDiI/AAAAAAAAAl8/xrULOadFfmI/s320/Luce.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Good stories with photos to prove this old sea dog can still catch fish.<br />
Click on the pictures to enlarge them. <br />
Hope you are all impressed.Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-88256103061452241122012-09-20T12:50:00.000-07:002012-09-20T12:50:33.063-07:00Chasca sent packing.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:East_Tarbet_-_geograph.org.uk_-_215836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="English: East Tarbet. This is the 'neck' of th..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="225" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/21/East_Tarbet_-_geograph.org.uk_-_215836.jpg/300px-East_Tarbet_-_geograph.org.uk_-_215836.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">English: East Tarbet. This is the 'neck' of the Mull of Galloway. A tarbet is a place where a boat could be dragged from one side of a headland or island to the other is probably not done much these days. This side is on Luce Bay, the point on the other side of the headland is on the Irish Sea and is called, somewhat predictably, West Tarbet. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:East_Tarbet_-_geograph.org.uk_-_215836.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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The stories are piling up to write when the season ends, but I will take this chance to let you know that Chasca has been replaced by a new boat.<br />
<br />
She is a Sea Hunter 450, 15 feet long with a 30 horse powered main engine giving around 20 knots.<br />
The boat and main engine is 8 years old, and the small engine, a 4hp is 10 years old, both are Tohatsu, very reliable engines.<br />
Chasca was over forty years old, as was the main engine which I was having too much trouble with, hence the new boat named "FAST "N" LUCE" the Luce being after a bay, LUCE BAY in the south of Scotland from where I purchased the boat and exchanged Chasca.<br />
I thought the name was quite relevant to me in my youth, and as it is bad luck to change the name of a boat, I am delighted to keep it and hope to have some good catches to report before the season ends.<br />
Or rather catch them now and write about it after.<br />
Hope you will be patient enough to wait, as the seasons end is fast approaching, and I will go into detail of my struggles with Chasca, good fishing and other adventures "with photos" since I last wrote.<br />
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Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-83494332823947571492012-08-17T01:20:00.000-07:002012-08-17T01:29:55.712-07:00Busy times<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Leaving_Dunure_Harbour_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1306370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="English: Leaving Dunure Harbour A small in-sho..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="214" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/04/Leaving_Dunure_Harbour_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1306370.jpg/300px-Leaving_Dunure_Harbour_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1306370.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">English: Leaving Dunure Harbour A small in-shore fishing boat leaves the harbour on a breezy May morning. In the 18th & 19th centuries, Dunure harbour was used by smugglers, or "free traders". The harbour became a busy fishing base for over 100 years up to the 1950s. By then, fishing boats were becoming too big for this small harbour. (Source: "Ayrshire Coastal Path", by James A Begg) (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Leaving_Dunure_Harbour_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1306370.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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This is just a quick line to inform any interested readers that I am busy catching fish and gathering stories at the same time that I will write, with pictures to accompany them once things get quieter.<br />
Hope you all have the patience to wait.<br />
The photo is of The Wee Lad, my friend Robbie's boat taken from Chasca on calm waters just off Dunure.<br />
Thank you all.<br />
Cheers for now.<br />
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Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-51078972887794447052012-07-21T09:10:00.001-07:002012-07-21T09:10:39.291-07:00Fish a plenty<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14534290@N04/6795551891" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="Gloom at Turnberry Lighthouse" border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="160" src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7009/6795551891_1f02d95355_m.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 240px;">Gloom at Turnberry Lighthouse (Photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/14534290@N04/6795551891" target="_blank">overgraeme</a>)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cornish_mackerel_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cornish mackerel on sale at Borough Market, Lo..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="400" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/9e/Cornish_mackerel_2.jpg/300px-Cornish_mackerel_2.jpg" style="border: medium none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">Cornish mackerel on sale at Borough Market, London. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cornish_mackerel_2.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Scomber_scombrus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Mackerel, caught close to the western edge of ..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="225" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c3/Scomber_scombrus.jpg/300px-Scomber_scombrus.jpg" style="border: medium none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">Mackerel, caught close to the western edge of the Belgian part of the North Sea, Belgium. Français : Un Maquereau commun, pris en mer du nord près de la limite ouest des eaux territoriales belges. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Scomber_scombrus.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
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I have been out twice since I last published a blog, but I wasn't sure whether to write about them or not as nothing much happened that was very different than before.<br />
The mackerel are still surrendering easily but most of them are getting thrown back as they are too small.<br />
I keep enough of the good sized ones to give me a feed but by the time I have caught enough good sized ones my arm is sore throwing the smaller ones back, so last time I thought I would try for some white fish in nearer the rocks after I had enough mackerel for my supper and before my arm got too sore.<br />
I moved directly towards the rocks under Turnberry Lighthouse and watch as the echo sounder bleeped off the readings until I had only three feet of water under the boat.<br />
I cast my line and before I knew it, it had hit the bottom, and when I looked over the side I could SEE the bottom, but no fish.<br />
Ten minutes later with nothing doing I moved north and off slightly until the bottom was out of view and although I could not see it I was still in very shallow water.<br />
Hook down again and it wasn't long until I felt a bite, but then, on reeling my catch in quickly I was disappointed to find only an undersized lithe, or pollock as they are sometimes known wriggling at the end of my line.<br />
A quick release let him live to fight another day, and no sooner was my line back in the water until the same again.<br />
When the fish came up I wondered if it was the same fish being suicidal but on examination it was much darker in colour, so it too was put back to fight another day, hopefully a day when they are big enough to eat.<br />
The next cast made my heart jump when I saw the strain on the line as I hauled it in with what I thought was a good sized tug, but with each turn of the reel and with the rod bending to breaking point, I realized that my hooks were caught hard fast on the rocks below.<br />
After many attempts to free them I finally had to give in and cut them loose, making them the first of what will probably be many more loss of hooks, but it is part and parcel of what you have to sacrifice if you want to catch different species of fish.<br />
It is a small price to pay when the big ones start biting.<br />
An easier way to get your supper is to get a few crabs from one of the other boats who are grateful for some mackerel to bait their creels, which is what I did that day and ended up with an unexpected delicious meal of freshly cooked crab rather than the mackerel which will keep for another day.<br />
All in all its great to be back among the sources of good fresh fish, and with a bit of luck I will be able to report on catching some good sized white fish instead of boring you with mackerel all the time.<br />
On saying that, its good to experience a bit of sea time again which might be boring for you to read about but not boring for me to be doing again.<br />
Each time you go out, has its own bits of excitement, and just being back out there is excitement for an old timer like me.<br />
<br />
Maidens harbour, where Chasca is moored, is tucked away in a well sheltered, and picturesque part of the coast about half a mile north of Turnberry Lighthouse, shown in the photo above.<br />
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<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=5568855c-9cd6-4fe9-99a9-40c1788964a2" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-83564829833068299662012-07-02T23:47:00.001-07:002012-07-02T23:47:11.153-07:00Comment problemI would like to apologize to any readers who have left comments and expected a reply.<br />
I have just discovered that the comments are not reaching the blog so I will try to rectify the matter.Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-35052468733929681812012-07-02T02:10:00.005-07:002012-07-02T02:10:49.881-07:00Mackerel galore.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Turnberry_Lighthouse_-_geograph.org.uk_-_102471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="English: Turnberry Lighthouse. Built on the ru..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="198" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/df/Turnberry_Lighthouse_-_geograph.org.uk_-_102471.jpg/300px-Turnberry_Lighthouse_-_geograph.org.uk_-_102471.jpg" style="border: medium none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">English: Turnberry Lighthouse. Built on the ruins of Turnberry Castle on the edge of Turnberry Golf Course (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Turnberry_Lighthouse_-_geograph.org.uk_-_102471.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a beautiful sunny day when I arrived at <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.3333333333,-4.81666666667&spn=0.1,0.1&q=55.3333333333,-4.81666666667%20%28Maidens%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Maidens">Maidens</a>, the wind was light with just a slight rolling of the waves on the sea, so I ventured out on another fishing expedition.<br />
<br />
This time, instead of heading up to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.4,-4.75&spn=0.1,0.1&q=55.4,-4.75%20%28Dunure%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Dunure">Dunure</a> to meet Robbie, I decided to try nearer home and steered south to cast the first line just off <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.3272,-4.8364&spn=1.0,1.0&q=55.3272,-4.8364%20%28Turnberry%20%28golf%20course%29%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Turnberry (golf course)">Turnberry</a> lighthouse.
It only took five minutes to get there, and no sooner was my line in the water when I felt the fish biting.<br />
As the line was hauled in I saw immediately the biggest mackerel I have seen in a long time and the other three were of a good size too, so, full of expectation of the same I cast the line over again.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgdVzFx1er8/T_FaEwNVacI/AAAAAAAAAk0/0iMsVn7FM3E/s1600/Photo0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgdVzFx1er8/T_FaEwNVacI/AAAAAAAAAk0/0iMsVn7FM3E/s320/Photo0033.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The line tugged before the hooks were only half way to the bottom which meant the fish were swimming mid water, so it was only seconds until my next haul was aboard and the bucket starting to fill up.<br />
The mackerel were getting smaller, but still big enough to keep so I fished at that spot, constantly hauling fish a plenty until the bucket was full, stopping only to photograph the bucket when it was half full.<br />
After a while the fish were getting smaller, so much so that I was throwing back three times more than I was keeping.<br />
It was fun though, watching the young mackerel swim away and with any luck grow big enough, reproduce to supply us with some more fun in future years.<br />
It is quite satisfying to think you are doing your bit for conservation letting the smaller ones go to live to fight another day.<br />
Some anglers get so excited when they catch any size of fish, that they keep them all not thinking of the harm it could do to the stocks of the future. Every little helps and considering we are only doing it for fun, and of course a good feed now and then, conservation is important.<br />
With the fish coming aboard so rapidly and going back just as quick my arm was getting sore so I stopped and filleted the fish I had kept, then headed in closer to the lighthouse to see if they were any bigger closer to the shore.<br />
This time my line reached the bottom and as it dangled, and I waited patiently and hopefully for a bite, I was able to watch the golfers playing on the famous Turnberry golf course.<br />
Not for long though because the fish began to bite again.<br />
I managed to fill another bucket of good sized mackerel then stopped to fillet again before I headed back to the harbour totally satisfied with my days adventure and the thought of a good feed of tasty mackerel ahead of me.<br />
I had promised my brother-in-law some fish, hence the reason for keeping so much and the next day I took some up to him along with a couple of recipes.<br />
That night he posted a photo on facebook of the delicious meal he had cooked which received loads of response, and I must admit I felt quite proud when he mentioned my part in creating such a tasty looking dish.<br />
So that evening just before I sat down to the gastric delight I had created for myself, I took a photo too, just for the benefit of my readers to show the before and after.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EXF4YS5aspA/T_FhLBOt9fI/AAAAAAAAAlA/C6vmYzgQ9P4/s1600/Photo0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EXF4YS5aspA/T_FhLBOt9fI/AAAAAAAAAlA/C6vmYzgQ9P4/s320/Photo0034.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Obviously the before is the photo of the fish in the bucket and the after being, when cooked.<br />
No point in showing you the pile of bones left after the meal was finished, for as you can see I cooked mine on the bone after coating them with a dressing of "orange zest, orange juice freshly squeezed, olive oil, ground cumin,hot chilli powder, salt and pepper to taste." I missed out the orange wedges and coriander that was optional and used tomatoes and lettuce instead.<br />
You must admit it looks good and by golly I can assure you it tasted GREAT.<br />
Donald, the hunter gatherer, after a long absence is back in business. ha ha.<br />
Hope you enjoyed the post as much as I enjoyed the feed, and that you tune in next time for my next installment.<br />
Cheers. <br />
<br />
<br />
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<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=fdeb7bb7-b879-4282-a33f-ce92e32edc0b" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-31914679386628456662012-06-18T13:47:00.002-07:002012-06-18T13:47:35.104-07:00Chasca's teething troubles.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Boscastle_DSC_8080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="Breakwater and fishing boat near the harbour o..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="199" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/d5/Boscastle_DSC_8080.jpg/300px-Boscastle_DSC_8080.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">Breakwater and fishing boat near the harbour of Boscastle, Cornwall, UK (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Boscastle_DSC_8080.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sorry for the delay in updating the post but not only have I had troubles with Chasca, I also have had troubles with the internet line, so after the BT man left today I took Chasca to sea again to see if her troubles were coming to an end.<br />
<br />
First of all I had better tell you about the near disaster we had the last trip I went on.<br />
As you know I have been having trouble with the main engine, the carburetor has been the latest cause of the engine cutting out and spluttering its way through the day but it always managed to get me back to the harbour, and each time I returned I learned something else about the troublesome engine and attempted to fix the latest problem.<br />
I never thought I was in any danger as I had a backup engine, a three HP Johnston which is big enough to get me home should the big engine fail......................well, you know what thought did, as the saying goes.<br />
"Planted a feather and thought it would grow a chicken." <br />
<br />
It was a lovely sunny day with a slight swell on the sea so I left the harbour and headed south to <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.3272,-4.8364&spn=1.0,1.0&q=55.3272,-4.8364%20%28Turnberry%20%28golf%20course%29%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Turnberry (golf course)">Turnberry</a> lighthouse, around the area where some mackerel had been caught the week before, but on the way down the engine jumped out of gear. This was a new problem, but not giving much heed to it I slowed the engine down and engaged forward gear again and soon I was speeding south, back on track.<br />
It happened again, so this time when I engaged the gear I held the lever in to prevent it jumping out for a third time.<br />
Ten minuets later I was on the ground where I hoped to catch my supper but as soon as I threw the engine out of gear the engine started spluttering and coughing again.<br />
Determined to catch some fish before I returned to the harbour I dropped my line over the side, where at this point I would stop the engine, but before I could do so it stopped all on its own.<br />
NOT AGAIN, I thought, but held the rod expecting my supper to come along at any time.<br />
Nothing doing, so I started up the engine again "no problem" and steamed off a bit to try my luck there.<br />
The gear jumped out again, and the engine spluttered annoyingly, so to be on the safe side I held the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gear_stick" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Gear stick">gear lever</a> in forward and limped closer to the harbour, in case it packed in completely.<br />
Lucky for me that I did, because as I approached the place just off the Maidens where I intended to fish, when I went to throw her out of gear the cable had jammed solid and although I was still going ahead the only way I could stop was by stopping the engine, not very handy when you are approaching the berth to moor up.<br />
<br />
I was the only boat at sea in the area at the time but I knew some others were due out, so I stopped the big engine and lifted it clear of the water, the went to start the small engine.<br />
I opened the vent on the tank, pulled the choke out and pulled the cord. Nothing, I kept trying, nothing.<br />
This I could not understand as I had run the engine before I left the harbour to check it was OK and it was then, so why the problem now?<br />
Was someone telling me to give up, that I had, had enough of the sea when I was working?<br />
<br />
As I looked over the side of the boat I could see I was drifting towards the rocks, then with one last pull the engine spluttered into life.<br />
I headed off a piece to get me a safer distance from the shore and as I tried to give the engine more revs it conked out!<br />
I tried and tried to get it started, but to no avail, so I prepared the anchor and phoned Robbie to tell him my tale of woe.<br />
Lucky for me he contacted another friend "Gordon" who kept his boat in Maidens and luckier still he was just on his way out.<br />
I was so close to the rocks on the outer harbour wall that I saw the mast of Gordons boat leaving port.<br />
One more attempt at my engine and it sparked into life but as I tried to give her revs it stalled again, so on the restart I just left it ticking over and very very slowly headed off and up nearer the harbour mouth.<br />
I was making slow progress when Gordon reached me, but I told him I would make for port under my own steam if he stood by astern.<br />
It took around twenty minutes to do a journey that, under normal circumstances would take under five minutes, but eventually my mooring was in sight.<br />
It is very awkward steering the boat with the tiller on the small engine while positioned on the starboard quarter and trying to see over the cuddy " forward compartment" but I managed to steer her close to the mooring rope just as the small engine stopped.<br />
With no control whatsoever I grabbed the boat hook and managed to snare a post on the marina and pulled the boat alongside which allowed me to complete the mooring up without anymore incidents.<br />
This was a maneuver that would not have been possible on the fishing boats I was used to but with these small boats I was learning something new every day. <br />
Lessons I would rather have learned without having to put most of them into practice in so short a space of time. <br />
It just goes to prove that no matter how experienced you are, or how careful you are, things can always go wrong.<br />
I do have a ship to shore radio on board but fortunately I did not have to bother the rescue services which would have been a last resort, but it shows how we at sea are there to help each other.<br />
Many times I came to the rescue of fellow seamen when they were on peril on the sea when I was a commercial fisherman, now I know how they felt when I came into sight in their time of need.<br />
A more comforting sight you will never see.<br />
<br />
The small engine was taken home and I altered the mixture which had been the problem, and the gear cable, after some hard work between Robbie and me is now free and in great working order, as for the big engine it is still playing up slightly, but got me out and back safely today.<br />
The only big problem today was, NO FISH, but at least we survived to try again another day.<br />
<br />
How was that for a story? Here was me thinking there would be no real adventures to write about on a small boat.<br />
HOW WRONG CAN YOU BE!<br />
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<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=a1ddbe21-692a-4f82-99fd-77e1075eb46d" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-8972483258582237662012-05-22T01:42:00.000-07:002012-05-22T09:02:26.658-07:00Chasca's first fishing trip.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Narrow-barred_Spanish_Mackerel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="Another nice spanish mackerel caught from the ..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="225" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b3/Narrow-barred_Spanish_Mackerel.jpg/300px-Narrow-barred_Spanish_Mackerel.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">Another nice spanish mackerel caught from the waters just outside Paka, Terengganu, Malaysia. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Narrow-barred_Spanish_Mackerel.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sunday morning on the 20th of May was beautiful, the sun was shining and Chasca was ready to sail.<br />
The engine problems had been fixed so I decided to sail with the tide and arranged to meet up with Robbie in his boat "Wee Lad" off <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.4,-4.75&spn=0.1,0.1&q=55.4,-4.75%20%28Dunure%29&t=h" rel="geolocation" target="_blank" title="Dunure">Dunure</a> which was some 20 minutes away from Maidens if Chasca could achieve the fourteen and a half knots we discovered she was capable of.<br />
<br />
The forecast was good with calm seas expected but as I let the mooring ropes go I noticed a stiff breeze wafting across the pontoon we were about to leave from.<br />
While I was preparing to leave a small yacht was rounding the harbour mouth, heading in a northerly direction and as it cleared the shelter of the harbour I noticed that its mast was swaying about much more than I would have expected, which meant the sea was choppier than anticipated.<br />
<br />
Quite often on hot sunny days the morning breeze becomes strong with the change in temperature in the air from the cool of the night to the heat of the rising sun.<br />
Undeterred I set off down the short channel that would take me and Chasca on our first adventure.<br />
Half way down I passed the small yacht retuning to port having thought better of venturing out on the choppy sea.<br />
An old sea dog like me was made of sterner stuff so I gave Chasca a bit of throttle and soon it was us that was tossing about in the moderate swell kicked up by the early morning breeze.<br />
Full speed ahead, and as the waves thumped into the hull it sounded like thunder, but when I felt the first brush of sea spray on my face memories came flooding back of the good old days.<br />
<br />
Fourteen and a half knots was too fast for this kind of motion so I slowed her down to half speed, after all this was supposed to be fun time not an ordeal which it was turning out to be.<br />
Instead of decreasing as I expected, the breeze freshened a bit more and the clumps and bangs on the hull became louder but I carried on, a lone boat punching through the waves, my legs buckling at the knees to counteract the dipping and diving Chasca performed as we pushed on.<br />
There was a time when I had to slow her right down to ride an extra large wave, that I thought of going back, but I had visions of the sea going calm and the perfect conditions I expected when I traveled down to Maidens, and with Robbie on his way out of Dunure I carried on.<br />
<br />
The sea abated slightly as I neared the Dunure shore, giving me some lee and I managed to give her more throttle, and then, through the spray I spied the Wee Lad steaming before the wind towards me.<br />
<br />
" When I saw the sea state,I thought you might have turned back." Robbie shouted, his voice just audible above the now decreasing wind.<br />
"NA! NA! you know me better than that." I laughed, then off we went to a piece of ground where we thought some fish might be.<br />
<br />
Ten minutes later we were there and the sea had already calmed to the smoothness I had hoped for on our first trip.<br />
Twenty minutes, and still no sign of fish so we headed to 50 feet and tried again.<br />
It was Robbie who caught the first fish, a very small whiting that was immediately put back, but as soon as his hooks hit the bottom with his next cast he felt the tug on his line, and up came three <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mackerel" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Mackerel">mackerel</a>.<br />
<br />
No sooner had he his catch aboard when I felt a pull on my line which turned out to be a small whiting.<br />
Whiting returned and swimming away I cast again and caught three mackerel in the same way Robbie did, it was as fast as that, but normally when that happens more follows. Not this time.<br />
It was a day of moving about and catching three here and three there, but all in all fifteen mackerel and a good suntan was not a bad start to my new venture, considering these were the first signs of fish this season.<br />
<br />
Robbie and I might be retired but we still haven't lost our touch. <br />
<br />
Quite happy with the days events, six hours later, tired and weary, (old age is catching up with me) I headed for Maidens on a glass calm sea, giving Chasca her head, and at full knots it wasn't long until we were mooring up at the marina again.<br />
<br />
So well had the day gone that I forgot to take photos, although Robbie took some on his camera as I steamed pasted him at full speed, so when he sends them to me I will post them.<br />
<br />
Right now I am off to sea on our second adventure and as the day is sunny and the sea calm, the tide in early afternoon, I hope to have good fortune to report in the next post, accompanied with photos...............if I remember.<br />
<br />
Make do with the stranger above for now ha ha. <br />
<br />
CAST OFF FORWARD, CAST OFF AFT.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=f0c68aab-13d5-40cc-ae90-04d0bea66b43" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-71093677255995190242012-04-26T04:19:00.000-07:002012-04-26T04:19:12.176-07:00Home for repairs.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container zemanta-img" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Boat_at_Uyeasound_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1269719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: clear:right;"><img alt="Boat at Uyeasound Out of the water, presumably..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="200" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/34/Boat_at_Uyeasound_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1269719.jpg/300px-Boat_at_Uyeasound_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1269719.jpg" style="border: none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption zemanta-img-attribution" style="text-align: center; width: 300px;">Boat at Uyeasound Out of the water, presumably for repairs. (Photo credit: <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Boat_at_Uyeasound_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1269719.jpg" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am afraid Chasca has let me down as, after trying several things to get her main engine repaired and working again it all ended in failure.<br />
On Friday 27-4-12 she will be taken out of the water and I will be bringing her home to get a professional to repair the engine and with any luck it won't be long until she is back on the water again.<br />
It is a big setback and disappointment but risks cannot be taken where safety is concerned on the sea, so bear with me til we make her better and soon perhaps more exciting posts will be written.<br />
<br />
The photo is just to show how sad a boat looks when she is out of the water, but then again I am sure you all knew that.<br />
<br />
The saying "Its not all plain sailing" seems very appropriate during these stressful times. lol <br />
<br />
Your prayers are welcome ha ha.<br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=9268dc6e-3952-4d66-a19b-88a9745782e6" style="border: none; float: right;" /></a></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-37499019562236779062012-04-21T06:31:00.000-07:002012-04-21T08:26:00.141-07:00The launch, Chasca's day of shame.<span id="goog_422999534"></span><span id="goog_422999535"></span>The day before the launch all systems seemed ready to go but as usual in times of great expectation sods law steps in and kicks you in the teeth.<br />
As you can seen in the videos it was as if Chasca did not want to venture onto the sea to spend her next few years in this new big wide world.<br />
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<br />
I should have reversed all the way down to the jetty, it would have been much easier. I'll know next time <br />
<br />
I had chosen a week when the tides were at their slackest and it seemed to take an age for the tide to come in far enough to start the launching procedure so I decided to splice an eye in the mooring rope that would be used when Chasca finally sailed to her berth where, with a bit of luck she will spend the summer months.<br />
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Pass over the next video if you don't want to be bored with me displaying one of my old skills as I kill time.<br />
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This next video is of Chasca eventually getting her hull wet but refusing to power up after behaving so beautifully at home.<br />
Sods law, when the vital moment arrives the engine starts but splutters so bad that the small engine had to power her to the berth. Hold your ears or concentrate on the wind noise if you do not wish to hear the oaths of me as I struggle to tempt Chasca's main engine to fire properly and allow me to continue towards the mooring with some dignity.<br />
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As you can see it was like trying to persuade a stranded whale to head back out to sea.<br />
All that was missing was some whimpering, but then again maybe it could not be heard above my curses.<br />
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She is now lying alongside the pontoon where after going through the eliminating procedure I am waiting for a spare part to be delivered which with any luck will solve the problem and have her ready when the fish begin to show.<br />
The only consolation so far is that the weather hasn't been too great and any boats that have been out came back with no fish at all, so its a case of nothing lost, nothing gained for the time being.<br />
Lets hope that the next installment will bring the positive and interesting stories you have all been expecting or Chasca's new life will be short lived.<br />
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I am sure by now if you have watched all the videos, you will have begun to doubt that I had ever been at sea but I can assure you that these small boats are a long way from the boats I was used to and I realize that I have a lot of learning to do yet.<br />
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Thanks to Robbie who can be seen assisting me and who has had more experience than me with small boats, my education will be short,sweet and rapid.<br />
Hope you all find it as amusing as Pat, my partner did and who can be heard laughing in the background while filming our escapade.<br />
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My entrance would have been more dignified if I could have used the controls for the big engine and stood proud at the wheel, with all controls at hand. The small engine is for emergencies only, sits on the starboard corner and has manual controls for the throttle, and a gear that works one way. If you need to go astern you have to turn the whole engine around, hence the extreme difficulty in handling a stubborn Chasca.<br />
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Never mind, they say a bad start is a good finish, lets hope so for Chasca's sake.<br />
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I was not the only one to have misfortunes that day.<br />
The man who launched his boat after me managed to pull his trailer into the harbour, where it had to be extracted next day at low tide by a digger.<br />
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<span id="goog_569954096"></span><span id="goog_569954097"></span>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-8808171939702071332012-04-10T03:00:00.001-07:002012-04-14T14:55:32.830-07:00The emergence of Chasca.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The above photos are of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inca_mythology" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Inca mythology">Chasca</a> in winter storage.<br />
Top picture is work in progress trying to make the cuddy watertight.<br />
The cuddy is the covered compartment forward and it leaked like a sieve when I purchased her but after loads of work searching and sealing each one in turn, the cuddy is now bone dry at all times.<br />
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The next three shows her ready to sail, with two added coats of anti-fouling on her hull, as there never had been any on her before.<br />
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As she will be lying at Maidens harbour all season the sea water produces barnacles and weed around the hull which will be kept at bay by that special coating of paint.<br />
She never had a name when I purchased her, nor did she ever sail on the sea, only freshwater lochs, and was taken out of the water at the end of each fishing trip, so anti-fouling paint was never really needed.<br />
The engine needed some work on her but after I tidied up and cleaned the fuel system, she is now running smooth and sweet.<br />
I have installed a ship to shore radio and a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Global_Positioning_System" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Global Positioning System">GPS</a> system a must if you are going to venture out on the ocean, and of course she has a "<a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fishfinder" rel="wikipedia" target="_blank" title="Fishfinder">fishfinder</a>", or a sounder as we fishermen used to call them, which gives you the depth of water and any fish swimming under the boat shows up as an added bonus.<br />
With a bit of luck, a man of my experience will be able to find fish without instruments ha ha.<br />
Other parts like the deck, bilges and the floor of the cuddy have been cleaned and painted to smarten her up a bit, and most likely I will give her a complete paint job when the season is over.<br />
That will depend if she is a good girl or not ha ha.<br />
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This photo is the picturesque marina in Maidens on the south west coast of Scotland where Chasca will be based.<br />
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I hope to launch her at the weekend 14-04-12 weather permitting with the help of my friend Robbie who has helped me tremendously in acquiring the new skills needed in maintaining, managing and sailing this smaller and much different type of boat than I have been used to. <br />
I will take this chance to convey my gratitude to him on giving up his time and supplying me with several items, but most of all sharing the knowledge he has acquired since he took up this pastime on his little boat "Wee Lad" that I wrote about last year.<br />
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The next post should have video of the launch which with a bit of luck will be next week.<br />
I will thank my partner Pat, for her patience and help too, and who will be responsible for the video during the imminent launch. <br />
I would also like to thank any readers who are continuing to read my blog and have waited patiently for this saga to continue.<br />
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Hopefully the stories, although not as exciting as my days on commercial fishing boats, will be amusing and entertaining enough to hold your interest.<br />
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CHEERS! Here's to Chasca, may God bless her and all who sail in her.<br />
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<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=1d5ffba8-90ff-4009-81ff-6fa0e9d34a8b" style="border: medium none; float: right;" /></a></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-70736375940707781622011-11-20T03:58:00.000-08:002011-11-20T05:49:34.174-08:00My new command<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rNkPSxkFMRg/Tsjx2qjAHcI/AAAAAAAAAjo/UKrJ6pwI3T8/s1600/Chasca%2Bfrom%2Bthe%2Bstern.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rNkPSxkFMRg/Tsjx2qjAHcI/AAAAAAAAAjo/UKrJ6pwI3T8/s400/Chasca%2Bfrom%2Bthe%2Bstern.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677053251736837570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-32zj-OY24io/TsjxtO0shAI/AAAAAAAAAjc/tVeVhtpUahM/s1600/Chasca%2Bside%2Bon.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-32zj-OY24io/TsjxtO0shAI/AAAAAAAAAjc/tVeVhtpUahM/s400/Chasca%2Bside%2Bon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677053089676035074" border="0" /></a><br />This is the little boat I have purchased to relax and fish for fun in perfect sunny weather for a change, instead of having to battle with the elements as I did in the past.<br />She is only 14 feet but she is big enough to handle on my own when launching and retrieving to the trailer at the end of the day.<br />Hopefully I will manage to acquire a permanent mooring at Maidens for the season which will make it even easier for me.<br />The adventures might not be so enthralling but I will write about the fun I have.<br />She had no name when I bought her so I have named her "CHASCA" after the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Celtic_polytheism" title="Celtic polytheism" rel="wikipedia">Celtic goddess</a> of the dawn and twilight.<br />As I have, albeit against my wishes been called DON it seemed appropriate when I came across her name.<br />I am sure Chasca the goddess will protect her namesake and all who sail in her.<br />You are welcome to read about our adventures together when the time comes, so catch us here when the winter months have passed.Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-41807318032575391532011-09-13T03:25:00.000-07:002011-09-14T05:42:04.886-07:00Reflections<span class="zemanta-img separator" style="clear: right;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Deepsea.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; display: block; float: right; clear: right;"><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/77/Deepsea.JPG/300px-Deepsea.JPG" alt="Deep sea fishing from a boat in the Gulf of Mexico" style="font-size: 0.8em; border: medium none;" height="225" width="300" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; clear: both; float: right; width: 300px;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Deepsea.JPG">Wikipedia</a></span></span>Since I have been back at sea albeit in a small way thanks to an old shipmate of mine I have had a strong urge to buy a small boat of my own.<br />It is only to go <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Recreational_boat_fishing" title="Recreational boat fishing" rel="wikipedia">sea angling</a>, a sport I thought I would never do as I thought of all the boring hours spent waiting for a bite. ........... Well that was the impression I got watching the fishermen every time I passed them sitting at the side of the river that flows through my village.<br />They just seemed to sit there hour after hour swiping the midges away while staring into the water, and never once have I seen any of them landing the fish they were after or spoke about while standing in the pub with their arms extended as far as they could go.<br /><br />After experiencing the sport first hand at sea, with fish biting so constantly it was hard to keep up with them and of course the bad times when all we did was stare at the ripples gently rocking the boat, and its distorted reflection in the sea as we swayed back and forth.<br />It made me do some reflecting of my own of the good times spent seine netting and trawling in good times and bad, but never boring, then I realized that far from being bored I was actually relaxing and enjoying myself with no worries of having to make a pay at the end of the trip.<br />My mind could wander over past big catches and Robbie and I would sometimes seem to be thinking the same thing when one of us would recall one of the adventures we shared together.<br /><br />We did not need to worry about storms anymore, we had done that, got the T Shirt and worn it out, all we had to do was to bob about on the sea at our leisure and hope a bite would come along and disturb our thoughts.<br />After all we had been through during our working lives you would think we would want to get away from that kind of life but no, we were both born and bred to the sea and it never releases its grip on you.<br /><br />Even as the tail end of hurricane KATIA roared through southwest Scotland I sat at <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.4,-4.75&spn=0.1,0.1&q=55.4,-4.75%20%28Dunure%29&t=h" title="Dunure" rel="geolocation">Dunure</a> harbour watching the small boats swing violently in the storm, tearing at their moorings as the swell from the raging sea outside surged into the confines of their safe haven.<br /><br />Even then the reflections in my mind went back to the days when I would have been out battling the storm instead of being a restrained spectator watching from the shore.<br />Thoughts of punching through the mountainous seas that I was observing, and turning on the broadside to haul the net among spray, heaving decks, and wind screaming through the rigging as it tried to throw us off our feet wasn't enough to put me off, it only kindled my longing to be back out there.<br /><br />Sadly for me those days are long gone along with the able body and my health.<br />These hindrances will not permit this willing mind to go through it all again, so I will have to content myself with a rod over the side reflecting on days gone by as I watch my reflection distort on the calm seas I have to settle for now.<br /><br />As for adventure and excitement, well it might not come close to what it used to be, but its better than sitting at home writing about it, and you never know, someday that big one might just take my bait and I will have another story to tell you.<br /><br />Hopefully not about the one that got away.<br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size: 1em; 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margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P1nAAt6bvlk/Tfh3YSRy-tI/AAAAAAAAAi8/xoSmdbEeQAI/s400/Solan%2Bins%2B112.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618371794251741906" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1VcgrzpRW_Y/Tfh1parypKI/AAAAAAAAAi0/T17ny7hSNyI/s1600/IMG_0001.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1VcgrzpRW_Y/Tfh1parypKI/AAAAAAAAAi0/T17ny7hSNyI/s400/IMG_0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618369889542775970" border="0" /></a><br />The black and white photo above is in this years calendar printed for "Scottish Fishermen's Organisation LTD.<br /><br />It is in for the month of June and I have been looking at it every morning when I come to my computer.<br />The boy standing aft is me in my teens on the family boat Olive Tree which at the time was a modern fishing vessel, but each morning this month as I look at it I always notice something that has changed drastically, none more so than the life raft.<br /><br />The oblong box on the galley roof just aft of the wheelhouse is where the life raft was situated at the time, which meant that if the boat was sinking two men would have to clamber up there to release the raft.<br /><br />Their first task when they reached the wooden box would be to unhook the four hooks at each corner that held the lid fast, dispatch of the lid, grab hold of a handle situated on each side of the bag the raft was encased in and haul the heavy object out.<br /><br />The rafts in those days were not made of the light materials modern day vessels carry, but of heavy waterproof canvass type stuff covering a heavy rubber compound and encased inside a canvass bag which made the task of removing the bag difficult in the best of conditions, e.g. when it was taken out in the harbour when its yearly check was due, and its survival contents renewed. (food chocolate tobacco flares etc.)<br /><br />This was done when we went for our annual overhaul of the engine and a paint to smarten the boat up for the summer fishing, and I had to struggle along with another strong member of the crew to get the raft out of its box, then lowered onto the deck for collection with the help of our lifting derrick. It was then that I thought, what chance would we have if we were in a raging sea sinking, or on fire?<br /><br />Time would be of the essence, a matter of life and death situation, and our task would be to struggle to get this heavy life raft into the sea which would have been our only chance of survival.<br />Clamber on top of the wheelhouse go through the motions I just described, then we had to tie a cord to a secure point on the sinking boat and throw the raft into the sea where on its contact with the water the cord should have by then been pulled with the throw and automatically opened and inflated the raft.<br /><br />If by that time we still had some of the boat to stand on, or for that matter still alive, we then had to try to get on to that raft.<br /><br />Many lives were lost because of the conditions I have described, with some but a few saved, where conditions might have been more favorable.<br /><br />Thank goodness for the progress on vessels of today where the raft or rafts (some have and need two) are situated in easier accessible positions, made of lighter materials, and all you need to do is release the plastic casing with a quick release clip and throw.(A long cord was already attached to where the raft had been secured on the boat. This of course was needed to haul the raft into a position that would enable us to board it.)<br />The raft inflates in seconds, has a roof and provisions, as did the old ones, (minus the roof, which would have added even more weight) in case rescue was delayed for some reason.<br /><br />The new ones also sends out a signal that can give your position and in some cases even inform the coastguard which boat is in distress.<br /><br />That to me was one of the more important changes, not only to the fishing industry, but to all mariners who have had to abandon ship.<br /><br />More emphases is put on safety every year on all types of craft, but to me when I look in horror at the box above the galley, I am so glad that we never had the misfortune to need its contents as I might never have been able to describe the most important life saving change I witnessed during my time at sea.<br /><br />One thing to remember is that lives will always be lost at sea no matter how safety conscious we become as we will never tame the sea and there will always be a need for the brave men and women in the rescue services who never let us down in our time of need.<br /><br />A big thanks always goes out to them.<br /><br />I never thought I would end up as pin-up boy on a calendar. ha ha.<br /><br />You can make out the new type raft in the first photo, just forward of the wheelhouse, and there would most likely be one on the side opposite.<br /><br />Click on the photos to enlarge them and give you a better view.<br /><br />Quite a contrast.<br /><br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size: 1em; 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height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=d1ff2310-c659-4272-a49c-a55ad6e907cc" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-77849768402826183152011-04-25T07:31:00.000-07:002011-04-25T09:19:14.694-07:00How times change.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LQlwAY9gAV0/TbWYC0_nr5I/AAAAAAAAAio/N7bUDxqvvfE/s1600/IMG_0009.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 381px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LQlwAY9gAV0/TbWYC0_nr5I/AAAAAAAAAio/N7bUDxqvvfE/s400/IMG_0009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599548886057725842" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WBXF_6jAM4A/TbWXt_EZ2BI/AAAAAAAAAig/B8A0Uv4rpWY/s1600%20/Zenith.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WBXF_6jAM4A/TbWXt_EZ2BI/AAAAAAAAAig/B8A0Uv4rpWY/s400/Zenith.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599548527984891922" border="0" /></a><br />I placed some photos in "http://www.trawlerpictures.net/index.php," a sight where I can go to view pictures from the past and present of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fishing" title="Fishing" rel="wikipedia">fishing</a> boats that can usually conjure up memories that had been lying dormant at the back of my mind for years.<br /><br />After receiving a comment on a photo I placed in it, of me throwing the dhan away while I was on the Olive Tree in the sixties, with the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seine_fishing" title="Seine fishing" rel="wikipedia">seine net</a> ropes stacked on the deck from stem to stern on both sides, I had to think again of the changes I saw on the boats during my time at sea.<br /><br />The guy had remarked on the ropes, and the work involved in stowing them, and how hard the work must have been for us in comparison to the present day and his time at the seine net.<br /><br />We went from standing at the coiler in all weathers watching the ropes pile up underneath it, then haul them away and stow them along the deck, or if we were among fish, running between the coiler while gutting and washing fish, lowering the baskets into the hold, and in some cases where I was concerned, jumping down the hold to box and ice them, to reels that hauled and stowed the ropes for us.<br /><br />On the odd occasion, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gear" title="Gear" rel="wikipedia">cog wheels</a> in the coiler would break and we would have to coil the ropes by hand until the net came up, them we would have to take the coiler to pieces and fix the broken part before we could continue fishing.<br /><br />At the time we never gave it much thought, as it was all in a days work then, but as I have mentioned in earlier posts, I did used to imagine some of the new inventions and methods that came along which made the job much easier.<br /><br />No longer are the ropes manhandled or nets hauled by hand, nor are the crews, in most of the new built boats at least, working on open decks.<br /><br />There are still breakdowns and the crews still have to do as many repairs as they can manage, as there are no garages or engineers out there that they can call into to get things fixed, and a long steam home to get repairs done means wasted fishing time.<br /><br />When I was at the sea and some of these changes were taking place, although welcomed, we took the progress more for granted, like watching a baby grow. The stages came one at a time, or in some cases when you crewed on a more modern boat the equipment was there and although accepting the benefits you never really took much notice of the change as you were among it all the time.<br /><br />It is only now, when remarks are made, like the comment in regards to my photo that I can look back in amazement at just what we really went through in comparison to the fishermen of today.<br /><br />The boats are all closed in, and nets are either hauled by power blocks or net drums, but when I look at the size of nets that are worked now, there is no way we could have hauled them by hand.<br /><br />The modern equipment has allowed the boats to work bigger and heavier nets, the shelters over the decks have made it safer to work in rougher weather, but the danger from the sea still lurks, and boats and men are still lost.<br /><br />We did used to get heavy objects in the net, objects that were not only too heavy for us to haul the nets, but also dangerous objects like bombs left over from the wars.<br />In these cases we would improvise and fleet the net up feet at a time with our lifting derrick which could take hours, depending on the sea conditions and if a bomb or mine appeared we would have to either cut the danger away and take the Decca readings of it, or tow it into shallow water, dump it and alert the Navy who would then send men out to blow it up.<br />Either way, hours of fishing, or at worst a whole days fishing, plus the net would be lost, costing us a fortune with no compensation coming from anywhere, only the hope of good catches for the rest of the trip to make up for it.<br /><br />I can visit harbours now or look at photos on the websites and be amazed at the boats now, but I never think, we had it any harder then, because no matter how modern the fishing gets it will never be an easy job.<br /><br />I can remember my uncle saying to me one day as I moaned while struggling to keep my feet on the deck as I coiled ropes by hand, <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sea_spray" title="Sea spray" rel="wikipedia">sea spray</a> thudding off the back of my head and knowing we had the coiler to fix as soon as the net came up, "I don't know what you are moaning about, in the old days the crews had to coil the ropes by hand every haul."<br /><br />Aye the old days were always worse I thought, but it wasn't any consolation to me at the time, nor will it be any to the boys who still have to go through hell to put fish on our tables.<br /><br />The only consolation we get or in my case got, was the fact that it was my calling, I loved the job, the adventure each day brought and the variation each day threw at us, be it breakdowns, bombs or big fishing, rough seas or smooth, we were never bored.<br /><br />I don't know how much more modern equipment, or how many more changes will come and improve the fishing industry, but I do know some skipper in the future will say these words to one of his crew when things are getting him down, "I don't know what you are moaning about, you should have seen what I had to go through when I was a boy!" and the rookies at night will listen in amazement to the tales the old boys will spin of days gone bye,<br /><br />Some things never change!<br /><br />Top picture. ( Me at the seine net posing. Open decks, fifty foot boat.)<br /><br />Bottom picture. (The Zenith trawling all enclosed decks, bigger boat.)<br /><br /><br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="font-size:1em;margin:1em 0 0 0;">Related articles</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.tamilnet.com/art.html?catid=13&artid=33785">Sri Lanka: Seine-net beaches in Mullaiththeevu distributed to Sinhala fishermen</a> (tamilnet.com)</li></ul></div> <div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=5e657a1d-a331-4a2b-9022-10adb8d1c066" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-65459943756043106002011-03-20T07:57:00.000-07:002011-03-20T13:12:06.916-07:00<span class="zemanta-img separator" style="clear: right;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Delivering_the_Mail_-_geograph.org.uk_-_214502.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; display: block; float: right; clear: right;"><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3c/Delivering_the_Mail_-_geograph.org.uk_-_214502.jpg/300px-Delivering_the_Mail_-_geograph.org.uk_-_214502.jpg" alt="Delivering the Mail. Postman on his rounds at ..." style="border: medium none ; font-size: 0.8em;" height="225" width="300" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; clear: both; float: right; width: 300px;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Delivering_the_Mail_-_geograph.org.uk_-_214502.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></span>Although I was quite happy being a postman the adventure part of it left a lot to be desired.<br /><br />Being bitten five times by dogs, or struggling about in deep snow to deliver the Queen's mail feeling like the last <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pony_Express" title="Pony Express" rel="wikipedia">pony express</a>, with the slogan "the mail must get through at any cost" ringing in my ears as I evaded another dog bite or snowdrift, was nothing in comparison to the thrill of punching into a storm in the dead of night with white crests towering above the mast seconds before they came crashing down around you.<br /><br />The secure relatively safe life of a postman with terra firma beneath your feet, and a steady wage coming in at the end of the week might seem to some people quite idyllic in comparison to rolling about the ocean and holding on every time a lump of sea thundered into your boat drenching everything in site including you.<br /><br />Not me I was born and bred to the sea and as I drove and wandered around delivering mail I used to recall the days of true adventure on the high seas and thought of the way the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_Union" title="European Union" rel="wikipedia">European Union</a> had spoiled it all for future generations of fishermen who will probably never be able to capture the large amounts of fish in one haul as we used to do during the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cod" title="Cod" rel="wikipedia">cod</a> fishing at this time of year thanks to quotas that have become too restrictive and unnecessary in most cases.<br /><br />Yes its March again, the month when the cod would come to the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.6666666667,-5.0&spn=0.1,0.1&q=55.6666666667,-5.0%20%28Firth%20of%20Clyde%29&t=h" title="Firth of Clyde" rel="geolocation">Firth of Clyde</a> in large shoals to spawn in the warmer, shallow waters around the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.2519444444,-5.11638888889&spn=1.0,1.0&q=55.2519444444,-5.11638888889%20%28Ailsa%20Craig%29&t=h" title="Ailsa Craig" rel="geolocation">Ailsa Craig</a>.<br /><br />Cold winter days with biting winds howling from morning to night, seas rushing over the deck as we toiled,gutting cod for hours on end, making the most of the good catches to be had while the going was good, because when the cod left to go back to deeper waters the Clyde seem to empty of all other types of fish and a few lean weeks lay ahead of us.<br /><br />Changing over to trawling for prawns was one option, but we used to tie the boat up and give her a good overhaul and paint in readiness for the summer fishing which would be the next opportunity to make big bucks.<br /><br />In between times we made a steady living, except for the few weeks after the cod, so all the punishment was worth it when the bulging pay packets landed on the table in front of us.<br /><br />All the freezing cold hours, hard graft, cut fingers and horrendous conditions were forgotten about as the aroma of beer hit our nostrils when we walked past the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mechanical_fan" title="Mechanical fan" rel="wikipedia">extractor fan</a> on the pub window and the thought of a cold pint of lager being placed in front of us that would wash all the salty taste from our mouths and a whiskey to take the chill from our bones.<br /><br />That was our excuse anyway if we ever needed one, but the first one certainly went down well and hit the right spot every time.<br /><br />I had plenty of adventures to look back on during my then dull life as a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mail_carrier" title="Mail carrier" rel="wikipedia">postie</a>, and nothing could or will be able to compensate for the sea.<br />It seems that you, the readers think the same way by your response to my last post, so if it is sea adventures you want to read about there is plenty more to come.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o2a1tSEF1os/TYYmZYVm3FI/AAAAAAAAAh4/XNhiuo98Mno/s1600/185677_188170351218435_100000764159067_357703_5384878_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 253px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o2a1tSEF1os/TYYmZYVm3FI/AAAAAAAAAh4/XNhiuo98Mno/s400/185677_188170351218435_100000764159067_357703_5384878_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586194605271342162" border="0" /></a><br /><br />AH! Thats more like the thing.<br /><br />After one post about the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://royalmail.com/" title="Royal Mail" rel="homepage">Royal Mail</a> I have decided to look out my <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oilskin" title="Oilskin" rel="wikipedia">oilskins</a> again and relive more tales of the sea.<br />If only I could have altered course so easily then I would have been very happy and more content but it was not a viable option at that time<br />All you faithful readers will be pleased to know that one post was enough of the Royal Mail for me too, so you too can look out your oilskins for the next post.<br /><br />The Royal Mail? Well that was "The last post."<br /><br /><br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="margin: 1em 0pt 0pt; font-size: 1em;">Related articles</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://brandmedicine.wordpress.com/2011/02/21/the-value-of-posties-red-jacket-touchpoint-impact/">the value of postie's red jacket - touchpoint impact</a> (brandmedicine.wordpress.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://gm7something.wordpress.com/2011/01/03/in-the-bleak-midwinter/">In the bleak midwinter.......</a> (gm7something.wordpress.com)</li></ul></div> <div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=7971dd07-dbc6-4be5-a66a-cc92256ac054" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-30809260053773919692011-01-23T08:22:00.001-08:002011-01-23T08:23:46.392-08:00A postman's follies.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TTxOYpZ2jYI/AAAAAAAAAg4/Alu1aT6VBiA/s1600/My%2Bpostman%2Bdays%2Bwith%2BConnor..jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TTxOYpZ2jYI/AAAAAAAAAg4/Alu1aT6VBiA/s400/My%2Bpostman%2Bdays%2Bwith%2BConnor..jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565409424861203842" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="zemanta-img separator" style="clear: right;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Royal_Mail_postman.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; display: block; float: right; clear: right;"><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/01/Royal_Mail_postman.jpg/300px-Royal_Mail_postman.jpg" alt="Royal Mail postman" style="border: medium none ; font-size: 0.8em;" height="225" width="300" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; clear: both; float: right; width: 300px;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Royal_Mail_postman.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I thought I would give you a rest from the fishing and save the best of these stories for my book that is three quarters finished.<br /><br />I worked as a postman for ten years after I left the sea, so here is some tales from those days.<br /><br />After working the long hours at sea I used to tell the postmen who complained about their job, that I considered it semi-retirement, it being easy with an eight hour shift in comparison to the dangers and long trips at sea.<br /><br />In my first year I was to learn that certain dangers occurred at work for postmen too, (And women. Better remember <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Political_correctness" title="Political correctness" rel="wikipedia">political correctness</a>.) although not producing the more serious consequences that the fishing held should you become lackadaisical while carrying out your duty.<br /><br />I started in the village of Patna where I had lived for about fifteen years and knew every nook and cranny of it due to the compactness of it,or so I thought, never realising that I had to do the outlying part (farms etc.) with a van, but with training I managed to pick it up pretty quickly.<br /><br />It took time to perfect the job, boxing in all the mail and delivering it to the correct addresses and the correct streets, plus delivering any parcels after the mail had been dispatched, but as the weeks went on I became very efficient and my confidence grew.<br /><br />I would hurry my rounds, working out of the van which meant I never needed to carry any heavy bags, not that it would have been any problem to a strapping lad like I was then, but I was glad of the bag on this particular day.<br /><br />I was scurrying around as usual quite relaxed when I approached a door that I knew a large dog lay in wait to snatch the mail from my hand, but the owner had placed a box behind the letter box, more to protect his mail rather than protect the postman. I always used to laugh to myself at the thought of the dog growling frustratedly as it attacked the back of the door so violently that at times I thought it might manage to barge through it and get to me.<br /><br />Anticipating the usual melee behind the door I skipped down the path with a twinkle in my eyes, when all of a sudden the Alsatian dog charged from the back garden of the house and was upon me in a flash.<br />All I could do to protect the private part of my body that it had lunged at with teeth bared and saliva drooling was to put the mail bag in front of them for protection.<br />It seemed to work but after a savage bite at the bag it took another lunge and grabbed my leg just missing the vital part I had just protected, and it was only when the owner appeared and called it off did it let go and run off.<br />My defensive instincts turned to anger and the smoke began to steam out of my ears as I stupidly chased the animal down the path from whence it came, swearing to kill it and its owner if I managed to lay my hands on them.<br /><br />With the dog locked safe in the house again (not sure if it was safer for me or the dog at the time)I turned my anger at the owner who threatened to report me to the post office manager.<br />"ARE YOU STUPID!" I shouted, "I am reporting you and your dog to the management and you will be lucky if both of you are not put down, the dog with the vet and you by me!"<br /><br />That is the mild version.<br /><br />With that I returned to my van, and it was then that I saw the blood seeping through my trousers, so I made a hasty retreat to the local post office to report the incident myself.<br /><br />Jim the postmaster there, was on the phone when I entered and lo and behold it was the owner of the dog complaining about my language, and while listening to him, tried to calm me down as he had observed how angry I was and knew the cause of my anger was at the other end of the phone.<br />When he got off the phone he told me to go the the doctors for a tetanus injection and not to worry about the owner of the dog as it was him and the dog that was at fault.<br />Well, worrying about any threat from them was the farthest thing from my mind but I did calm down by the time I reached the doctors, and with the evidence from the bite on my leg for the doctor to witness, the police paid the owner a visit.<br /><br />I was told by them after, that a dog is allowed one bite and if it repeats the deed, only then will it be put down.<br />The wound healed fine after a couple of weeks but the deed festers inside me to this day, and I detest dogs. (My apologies to responsible dog owners.)<br /><br />I blamed the owner as much as the dog and once I had calmed down I never really wanted the dog destroyed. As for the owner weeeeeeeell I had to think hard about that one. ha ha.<br />You would have thought it would have taught me to be more careful in the future, but during my first year as a postman I was bitten five times of which I might divulge the details to you next time, but you will understand why I was not over the moon when my niece announced recently that she had purchased a puppy as a pet for her children. ha ha<br /><br />Puppies grow into dogs and postmen become a hate figure of them simply because we invade their territory,or so they tell us during training, but it is hard to convey a message to a dog that is hanging off your leg that you are only trying to deliver a letter to their owner.<br /><br />Nowadays its usually junk mail or bills that is delivered, so who can blame the owners now, if they allow their dogs to chase the poor postman who, after all is only doing his job, a thing the owners should remember, including my niece,if they love their dogs, as the consequences could be grim for both the postman and their dogs.<br /><br />As for my temper...................MY BARK IS WORSE THAN MY BITE GRRRRRR!<br /><br />Top photo (Me in my postman days with a budding helper.)<br /><br /><br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="margin: 1em 0pt 0pt; font-size: 1em;">Related articles</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.theprovince.com/Vicious+Peggy+Yorkshire+makes+posties+think+twice/4143046/story.html">'Vicious' Peggy the Yorkshire makes U.K. posties think twice</a> (theprovince.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-mid-wales-10695469">Dog bite postman in safety drive</a> (bbc.co.uk)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://newslite.tv/2010/11/02/royal-mail-warns-family-over-p.html">Royal Mail warns family over postman cat attack</a> (newslite.tv)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://punjapit.wordpress.com/2011/01/20/wuff-justice/">Wuff Justice</a> (punjapit.wordpress.com)</li></ul></div> <div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=0d56d996-0614-4582-9fba-9d00e880217f" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-78585276526400247132010-12-23T03:44:00.000-08:002010-12-23T09:08:47.517-08:00Gentle summer breezes.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TRNfiRzc9zI/AAAAAAAAAgk/YAxJygpPofI/s1600/19787_28466.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TRNfiRzc9zI/AAAAAAAAAgk/YAxJygpPofI/s400/19787_28466.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553887807977355058" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TRNer6YeobI/AAAAAAAAAgc/oAmWCH2j5Ck/s1600/Rough%2Bday.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 253px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TRNer6YeobI/AAAAAAAAAgc/oAmWCH2j5Ck/s400/Rough%2Bday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553886873977266610" border="0" /></a><br />In contrast to last months post I thought with the severe winter weather we are experiencing in <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.95,-3.2&spn=10.0,10.0&q=55.95,-3.2%20%28Scotland%29&t=h" title="Scotland" rel="geolocation">Scotland</a> I would warm the keyboard of my computer recalling the unusual days at sea when the surface of the ocean was flat clam shimmering like glass on a wind free sunny summers day.<br /><br />The summer days are long in Scotland with the sun rising between three and four in the morning and setting around eleven at night with hardly any darkness in-between.<br /><br />We would leave port at midnight on the Sunday night when darkness had just fallen, but if the moon was at a point in its cycle where it shone large and bright in the sky, it appeared as if it was still daylight and you could see for miles over the silvery sea.<br /><br />When I was on watch on mornings like these I used to soak up in amazement the beauty and variations of colour mother nature could conjure up to create the fantastic sea scape that lay before me as we sliced our pathway across the sea of glass to the fishing grounds west of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.42596,-5.11945&spn=1.0,1.0&q=55.42596,-5.11945%20%28Pladda%29&t=h" title="Pladda" rel="geolocation">Pladda</a> lighthouse at the southern tip of Arran.<br /><br />It was the fishing grounds there, that <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hake" title="Hake" rel="wikipedia">Hake</a> were caught in the warm summer months when they came into the shallower waters to spawn, providing us with rich pickings as they were one of the most expensive fish we landed, being savoured by the Spaniards who travelled all the way to Scotland to buy them in bulk and ship them back home.<br /><br />The crew were rallied when we reached the fishing grounds just before daylight appeared in the eastern sky and the dhan would be thrown over the side where two miles of rope were shot out, then the net, as we turned and shot out two more miles of rope on our return to pick up the dhan and begin our first haul of the day.<br />It took two hours to complete the tow and once the net approached the stern of the boat we would stop the winch, tow it along the surface to assist the cod end that held the fish to float on top of the water before we started hauling it aboard.<br />It was when we came astern to haul the net aboard that the cod end would reveal its contents by floating a silvery blanket of bloated hake bellies along the bag and as we pulled it towards us they would rumble down into the cod end, then be lifted aboard by the derrick, spilling into the pound where we would quickly box them ready to gut.<br />In the case of the large Hake we would gut them straight from the pound once the gear was shot again as the majority of them were usually longer than the boxes and with their girth it did not take many to fill a box.<br /><br />We would still be working with the fish as the next haul was in progress, and the mud from the ropes coming in would splash all over us and the deck, covering all in its vicinity with a thick layer of brown clay as it dried in the now rising sun which became warmer with every passing hour.<br /><br />As early as 9am it would get so warm that I used to cut down an old oilskin and make an apron out of it, tie it around my waist to keep the lower half of my body as dry as possible while I stripped to the waist and let the sun beat down on my pale skin, hidden from the elements all winter beneath layers of clothes during the cold stormy days that was more normal to us than the balmy weather arising from the few hot summers days we might be blessed with.<br />All day I would work like that only donning my full oilskins whilst hauling the net to protect myself from the scaulders that fell on our heads from the net as it was drawn through the power block (scaulders are red jellyfish that appeared during the hot weather and had a sting like vinegar or salt hitting an open cut)the term scaulders coming from the burning feeling they gave you when they landed on sensitive pieces of skin around the eyes or open cuts.<br />(SCAULD meaning to burn in Scots lingo)<br /><br /><br />By the end of the day when the sun set below the horizon my back was as red as the scaulders, and also would sting in a similar way, having had too much sun at one go, and even though this happened every year I still never learned from it, always desperate to grab some sun while the chance was there and willing to suffer for it, as after a couple of hours sleep at night it seemed to cool down enough to start the process all over again if we were lucky enough to have sunshine two days on the trot.<br /><br />The job was so much easier and less tiring on calm seas, no rolling and pitching about or holding on to boxes of fish as the boat was thrown violently in all directions, and calm seas also allowed us to stand without having to think about where to place our feet or correct our balance as we did in storms during every lurch our vessel took.<br /><br />As the sun rose in the east it would paint a different picture of colour every morning depending on the atmospheric conditions or slight cloud formations that might feather the pale blue sky. At night when it sank like a giant red ball of flame beneath the west horizon into a flat calm sea you almost expected it to sizzle and steam when it appeared to touch the surface as it flickered shades of pinks and lilacs that danced among the few ripples stirred up by the tide and evening breezes, cooling the night air slightly, giving us a short respite from the heat that would soon burst upon us again come morning.<br />As the day wore on I would drench myself with the cold salt water pumped from the sea through the hose that led to the deck just to cool down a bit, and come the end of a trip my hair was like wire when I went to wash it,having to use handfuls of shampoo before I could work up enough lather to cleanse the salt from it.<br /><br />Wonderful sights of mother nature to behold during the long days of summer in Scotland, but as the calm days dragged on with steam rising from the decks and the fish too as they lay in wait to be gutted, by the heat of the sun beating down, mingled with the build up of heat on the deck from the engine room, meant we had to be quick attending to them and get them in ice before the heat affected the freshness of them, losing us money come landing time.<br /><br />We had a good crew in those days so the problem of rotting fish never arose and we always got top money for our fish no matter what the weather threw at us, but once the calm days turned into weeks the novelty began to wear off and we would wish for a stiff breeze at least to liven things up again.<br /><br />When the calm days became tedious I used to think that it must have been the same for sailors of old who, when lying becalmed would have been bored as they waited to move forward having had to rely on wind and sail power to drive them onward to their destination. Whereas they would be willing the wind to blow for that reason, we began to wish for wind to relieve the boredom the calm seas and the heat caused us as we toiled under the burning sun all day.<br /><br />Then one morning you would sense a change working in the weather, as the sun rose with an angry looking sky, and the gentle cool summer breeze getting colder instead of warmer with each foot the sun rose above the now grey horizon, whipping up the once calm sea into the turmoil we were more used to.<br /><br />The boredom had passed, the long oilskins were donned for the day and the now tanned skin on my back was once again hidden from the elements leaving only my hands and weather beaten face uncovered, where the spray from the rising waves would leave its mark as it hammered across the deck with each dive we took into the deepening troughs.<br /><br />The long summer days were over, the fishing had its good points, and the beautiful visions of mother nature I witnessed during these special sunsets and rises will never leave my mind, a wonder to behold indeed.<br /><br />The days would get shorter as the sun rose later and set earlier, displaying a different kind of beauty through cold angry winter skies, but as our vision was impaired by lumps of sea crashing around us and our concentration focused on the dangerous task in hand of casting our nets, clearing the decks and keeping our balance, making sure we were not thrown overboard, we could not take the time to appreciate them so much, but then again that was what we expected and looked forward to when we signed up, a bit of excitement and adventure that helped to keep our wits about us,preserving our lives as we unwittingly collected stories along the way that might come in handy to tell our grandchildren some cold snowy December night gathered around the glow of a warm log fire before we watch them snuggle down to sleep to dream of the gifts Santa might be bringing them through the storm.<br /><br />I have retired now as my regular readers will know and although I have no grandchildren of my own to relay my stories to, I do have my followers, and I am sure some of them might just be reading this before they fall asleep to dream of the gifts Santa will be bringing them regardless of their age, so I hope when you awake your dreams have come true.<br />If they don't you must have been naughty ha ha.<br /><br />MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.<br /><br />I wish to thank all my readers and followers for their loyalty, and for their fantastic comments during the past year.<br />I wish you all great time on Christmas day and all the very best for the year ahead.<br /><div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=83ed78fb-f8a7-4c4f-9a9c-6aac299b78cc" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-89880245750315090062010-11-09T01:04:00.000-08:002010-11-12T10:00:17.842-08:00White horses.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TNk0V4nW19I/AAAAAAAAAgE/yCrmoOq8dJA/s1600/white%2Bhorses.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TNk0V4nW19I/AAAAAAAAAgE/yCrmoOq8dJA/s400/white%2Bhorses.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537514767408093138" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="zemanta-img separator" style="clear: right;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Golfstream.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; display: block; float: right; clear: right;"><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/e2/Golfstream.jpg/300px-Golfstream.jpg" alt="Gulf stream map" style="border: medium none ; font-size: 0.8em;" height="218" width="300" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; clear: both; float: right; width: 300px;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Golfstream.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></span>The past couple of days have seen cold easterly gales blowing across Britain which brought back memories to me of numb hands, spray from the salt water, freezing as it landed on the deck, stinging my face as it battered into me while fishing off the west coast of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.95,-3.2&spn=10.0,10.0&q=55.95,-3.2%20%28Scotland%29&t=h" title="Scotland" rel="geolocation">Scotland</a>.<br /><br />It was mostly south westerly winds that we had to contend with which blew from the open <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=0.0,-30.0&spn=0.1,0.1&q=0.0,-30.0%20%28Atlantic%20Ocean%29&t=h" title="Atlantic Ocean" rel="geolocation">Atlantic Ocean</a> causing huge waves to build up as they journeyed across that vast expanse of water making our job all the more difficult and dangerous than it already was, so you would think that when the wind blew from the east it would make life more bearable for us,.................. not so.<br /><br />Southwest winds reach us on the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=40.0,-30.0&spn=1.0,1.0&q=40.0,-30.0%20%28Gulf%20Stream%29&t=h" title="Gulf Stream" rel="geolocation">Gulf Stream</a>, coming from the region of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=14.5255555556,-75.8183333333&spn=0.1,0.1&q=14.5255555556,-75.8183333333%20%28Caribbean%20Sea%29&t=h" title="Caribbean Sea" rel="geolocation">Caribbean Sea</a> and although they bring plenty rain and storms they are quite warm in comparison to easterlies, as the easterlies come from the frozen Baltic climates mostly in winter bringing snow and ice.<br /><br />It shows that there are hazards to fishermen regardless of which way the wind blows, as while some shelter can be gained with the wind blowing off the land creating smaller waves, these waves have what we called "white horses" at their crest which break constantly over our bows and across the deck when steaming and carrying out our tasks on deck, so much so, that we spend the day soaked to the skin with freezing water running through us even though we have oilskins and sea boots on.<br /><br />The day begins in the early hours of the morning when we are about to sail, hauling in mooring ropes that are thick with ice and cannot be coiled, so we have to manage them as best as we can until we leave the fresh water of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.5,-4.68333333333&spn=0.1,0.1&q=55.5,-4.68333333333%20%28River%20Ayr%29&t=h" title="River Ayr" rel="geolocation">river Ayr</a> and reach the salt water of the sea where the ice slowly melts enough to allow us to coil and stow them safely.<br /><br />The icy wind will be howling and the rigging rattling and shuddering as we plough our way through the sharp seas with spray and spindrift blinding our view at times, but with the reasonable shelter we get from the land, the seas are workable, so another day of hell begins.<br /><br />Although you are not diving into deep troughs, the boat ploughs on into the sea like hitting brick walls, throwing the icy spray across the deck and when it hits your face it feels like nails being hammered into your skin, so you try to keep your head down as much as possible, but it is not so easy to do when you are among shoals of fish that need gutting and washed just like any other day.<br /><br />Our hands, like our faces become leathery and hard, which is just as well, but that did not prevent the blood to stop reaching our fingertips or other extremities when it got extremely cold, leaving our fingers numb when standing gutting the fish, our feet, feeling as cold as the lumps of ice relentlessly thudding into us each way we turned, as if bullets from a machine gun were being fired at us from the constant freezing spray that showered over us and swirled around our feet.<br /><br />When our hands are as cold as this you feel no pain, barely feeling the knife you are holding, so it is easy to cut you fingers which happens on a regular basis and the blood, if any, is mingled with that of the fish, so it is not until you wash your hands allowing the blood to flow freely again, once the decks are clear that you see blood pouring out of a wound that might need attention.<br />Our hands are always covered in cuts, the cuts are usually in the same places where the knife cuts the guts of the fish against our thumbs, or on the opposite thumb where we hold the fish by the gills slicing down its belly turning the knife back up to scoop out its innards after severing their stomachs,sometimes slicing our own fingers along with it. <br /><br />Justice some might say, but as long as people want to eat fish, mankind will catch them.<br /><br />Even with badly cut fingers the work goes on, and during the winter months when the easterlies blew, haddocks were the mainstay of our catch.<br />The haddocks fed on shellfish that lay on the seabed which meant that their stomachs were full of sharp pieces of shell still digesting in their bellies, and during gutting the shells would rub away the skin between our fingers until they too bled, and at the end of the day our hands were in a sorry state.<br /><br />When your hands warmed up between hauls the blood would slowly come back to the tips of your fingers which brought pain of a different sort, not knowing whether to laugh or cry or where to put your hands to ease the agony somewhat, which was nigh impossible anyway. It was a pain that is hard to describe but if you have ever smacked an object hard with an open hand, or received six of the best with a strap from your teacher at school, multiply that pain a hundred times.<br />If you don't believe me and want to experience it, lift a block of concentrated ice,(not really advisable) and if it doesn't stick to your hand the blood will immediately rush to your fingers, to combat the sudden cold, creating a burning effect and as it surges to the tips it will give you the excruciating pain we went through every day when the easterly winds blew in winter.<br />(I was stupid enough to lift a block of concentrated ice when I was young, so I know what I am talking about.)<br /><br />Gloves might have been a good idea, but they slowed us down too much when working with the fish, even so, your hands still got numb in them anyway, and as it turned out, our hands became tougher then any glove we tried.<br /><br />When sailing time came again, we tumbled out of our cosy bunks straight into the icy blast of wind howling through the rigging, the corrugated iron roof of the fish market rumbling in the wind as it threatened to take flight. Our hands were stiff and sore as they had dried out overnight leaving them tender to the touch until they were saturated in water again, and when we let go the iced up mooring ropes we could hardly bear to touch them as we hauled them aboard, then out into the white horses where the torture would all begin again.<br /><br />My party trick when I was ashore among landlubbers was to stub cigarettes out on my hand to show how leathery they were which always proved popular, and drew gasps from the ladies.<br />Yes I was proud to be a fisherman, following in the footsteps of my grandfather, and I knew I had to take the good with the bad, be it high seas with deep troughs or cold easterlies with their white horses, we consoled ourselves thinking of the warm summer days ahead, or the thought of downing a stiff whisky when we hit the pub.<br /><br />I had to live and work in conditions that horrifies shore workers and in conditions that I would not be allowed to work in if the strict health and safety laws ashore applied, but then again if ever they were applied there would be no fishermen, because there is no way we can beat the elements regardless of human laws.<br />Most new boats have decks that are covered over in the working areas making the job much easier, but even shelter decks, though they might divert the freezing wind from your face, won't prevent the cold from penetrating your body when the easterly wind is screaming through the rigging.<br /><br />I have been retired for some years now, given up smoking and trying to impress women, but my memories of those cold stormy days are still vivid, and are rekindled when the easterlies blow. Sometimes even when my hands feel cold when working at the sink under the cold water tap, I begin to wonder why my face is still weather beaten and leathery whereas my hands have softened somewhat, but you still will never get me to wear gloves, especially the yellow marigolds that the women wear.<br />I might not be as tough as I used to be, but I have not gone completely soft. ha ha.<br />I would rather grin and bear it just like the old days, and although I don't cut myself so often, my hands still bear the scars from yesteryear, a reminder to be careful when using knives.<br /><br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="margin: 1em 0pt 0pt; font-size: 1em;">Related articles</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://gizmodo.com/5651493/when-waves-attack">When Rogue Waves Attack [Book Excerpt]</a> (gizmodo.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/narguesse/1/1204635945/tpod.html">Albany has a horse-wash ! - Albany, Australia</a> (travelpod.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://r.zemanta.com/?u=http%3A//www.telegraph.co.uk/topics/weather/7982856/Summer-is-over-as-Britain-braced-for-gales-and-rain.html&a=23858495&rid=8844d8f1-98d5-4ef1-b0de-2506fe31c290&e=db5875585fa6a6abb0b371aebd71c000">Summer is over as Britain braced for gales and rain</a> (telegraph.co.uk)</li></ul></div> <div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=8844d8f1-98d5-4ef1-b0de-2506fe31c290" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-65407681011251963802010-09-28T01:52:00.000-07:002010-10-22T04:09:46.221-07:00For those in peril on the sea.<span class="zemanta-img separator" style="clear: right;"><a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Royal_Navy_SAR_2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; display: block; float: right; clear: right;"><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/ed/Royal_Navy_SAR_2.jpg/300px-Royal_Navy_SAR_2.jpg" alt="Lifeboat Day in Coverack." style="border: medium none ; font-size: 0.8em;" height="225" width="300" /></a><span class="zemanta-img-attribution" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; clear: both; float: right; width: 300px;">Image via <a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Royal_Navy_SAR_2.jpg">Wikipedia</a></span></span>You would think that the vast open sea could handle all the ships of the world and would be safer than a busy motorway, but the consequences of a collision at sea can have more serious results than a <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Traffic_collision" title="Traffic collision" rel="wikipedia">fender bender</a> ashore, and in certain channels shipping gets quite congested at times.<br /><br />In the busy shipping lanes of the world great care is taken by the coastguard and the captains of the ships to avoid any such event, but they do happen, normally in rough weather or fog, hence the need for our valuable rescue services like the lifeboat, coastguard and <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Air-sea_rescue" title="Air-sea rescue" rel="wikipedia">air sea rescue</a> helicopter units.<br /><br />In the quiet waters off the west coast of Scotland, the few ships that pass by are made up of coasters, ferries, the odd oil tanker heading up to Greenock, and on the very odd occasion a cruise liner will visit the beautiful area in and around the Firth of Clyde.<br /><br />Gone are the days of John Browns shipyard turning out ships and them seen doing their trials along the measured mile where the great Queens, Mary, Elizabeth and Elizabeth 11 graced the waters of the Firth before heading off to travel the world providing luxury cruises to all who sailed in them.<br /><br />There are still some navy ships being built at another shipyard on the Clyde, and they still do trials out there, also the Royal Navy does exercises in the suitable deep waters around Arran at times adding to the traffic, with some submarines to be had too, so all in all, as at anytime and anywhere at sea strict vigilance is required at all times.<br /><br />Sadly even though we have many modern navigational aids the human element is still the most reliable but also the one that makes the most errors, and is the cause of most collisions or tragedies at sea.<br /><br />Taking your eye off the ball even for a second, as on the roads, can mean life or death as you have to be wary off all around you,like weather conditions that can change at the drop of a hat, or shipping appearing from the horizon that has to be noted and its course, speed and direction observed as it could interfere with your plans before you realize it, especially if you are towing fishing nets astern of you which makes manoeuvrability almost impossible, so you have to anticipate the hours and minutes ahead not just the seconds that are needed on the roads.<br /><br />On more than one occasion I was unfortunate enough to be at the mercy of the human element in command of a ship, or small coaster as was in these cases, but none the less scary than a tanker when it is bearing down on you on a collision course, us unable to take evasive action while fishing and able to see the man in command having a conversation with his shipmate unaware they were heading straight for us and contact only seconds away.<br />Shipping is supposed to give <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fishing_vessel" title="Fishing vessel" rel="wikipedia">fishing boats</a> a wide berth and every fishing boat has signals to show it is working and cannot manoeuvre, a rule of the sea, just as you still give way to a boat under sail.<br /><br />Having sailed on fishing boats from forty foot up to over seventy, I always thought the boat was big, in comparison to what, I am not sure, but when you are aboard it seems that way, so you think that you are clearly visible to any passing traffic who should be keeping a look out, "WATCH" being the operative word as it is called a watch when its your turn at the wheel when steaming or towing whatever the case.<br /><br />Obviously the man on watch in this case had never looked at his radar never mind looked out of the wheelhouse window as he was completely oblivious to us. It was the seconds before impact that you realize how small your boat really is, and it is also amazing how quickly your brain works when you are put in such a predicament.<br />My first thought was to jump on the anchor dangling from the bow of the coaster, it looked easy at the time, but with hindsight, foolish, everything seemed to go in slow motion the nearer the coaster came to impact us and it gave me time to run forward to the winch and release the brakes, letting our gear run out and giving us enough forward thrust to slip under the bow and into the wash of sea it was pushing in front of it.<br />As soon as the man on watch noticed our mast he took evasive action by turning the wheel hard to port and scrapped past our quarter with inches to spare, avoiding the collision that would have halved our boat in two.<br />Without even an acknowledgement he sailed on and over the horizon without a care in the world leaving us to recover our nerves, haul the gear back to where it should be and continue fishing, although it took a strong cup of tea and about ten cigarettes before my nerves settled.<br /><br />That was the closest call I had, one other being an idiot in a small but larger coaster heading straight for us, aware of what he was doing, his way of giving us a fright, which worked, but I would like to have seen his face when the Board of Trade officials boarded them when they docked as we reported the incident, and it would have been taken very seriously, punishment also dished out to idiots and law breakers at sea, just as on land.<br /><br />There were a few other times when we had to take evasive action with arrogant captains not wanting to stray from their course to avoid small fishing boats that would seem only an irritation to them but had we not anticipated their actions the consequences would have been severe, not only to the crew on the fishing boat who would have landed in the water, maybe even drowned, but for the irresponsible captain who would have lost his rank, which would have been more than irritating to both parties.<br /><br />All my near misses happened in clear weather, but some of my colleagues were not so lucky, some lost their lives, which I would rather not go into, but will tell you of one particular boat with close friends of mine aboard who were run down and sank one foggy day.<br /><br />It was a small coaster, the same one that gave me my closest call, obviously a lesson never learned, although fog is one of the worst things you can experience at sea even with all the modern equipment like radar.<br /><br />My friends had been fishing at the west side of The Alisa Craig, a notorious place in fog where the island disappears and the haunting sound of the foghorn can be heard for miles around.<br />They had their gear aboard and were steaming between tows so both skippers were to blame, but nonetheless both skippers got a shock when the coaster appeared out of the fog ramming the "RANDOM HARVEST" amidships sending her to the bottom in minutes.<br /><br />One of my friends was in the wheelhouse with the skipper and told me, "He appeared out of nowhere, never showing up on the radar nor his foghorn heard."<br />Strange, but fog does have a weird effect at sea and strange unexplainable things like that do happen.<br />Another friend of mine who was in the hold packing fish at the time, felt the impact and when he scrambled up the ladders to get to the deck, the boat was going down as fast as he was trying to get up.<br />Thankfully, after a short swim, all were rescued by the crew of the coaster, "THE SUNLIGHT" of all names, but I often wondered what would have happened to me had I been on the Random Harvest as I could not swim all the years I was at sea only learning some years later.<br /><br />Storms were not the only factors to create danger at sea, fog and the human element were another two, the human element being the one that should never be in the equation but is most likely to be the worst offender when it comes to collisions.<br />Accidental the collision might be, but negligence is most likely to be at the root of it, and as on the roads, that split second can mean life or death even though there is a vast expanse of ocean.<br /><br /> "GOD BLESS HER AND ALL WHO SAIL IN HER"<br />Is the quotation used when a ship or boat is launched, and every sailor I know have needed God's blessing at sea at one time or other, be it through storms or stress, rough and ready we might be, we have all turned to him at some point, some luckier than others, some living to tell the tale, some not.<br /><br />I have great respect for the sea, and after all the years spent on it, knowing what it can throw at you, I have every respect for all the men and women who still go down to the sea in ships, but more so for those of the rescue services who put their lives at risk to save us should we flounder in any way.<br /><br />Although there is a vast expanse of ocean, with many open spaces, it still provides much more danger than any of our congested roads ever will.<br /><br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="margin: 1em 0pt 0pt; font-size: 1em;">Related articles by Zemanta</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/latest/2010/09/27/immoral-crash-ship-failed-to-stop-115875-22590962/">'Immoral' crash ship failed to stop</a> (mirror.co.uk)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://r.zemanta.com/?u=http%3A//news.sky.com/skynews/Home/UK-News/Boat-And-Ferry-Collide-One-Missing-After-Collison-Off-St-Abbs-In-Eyemouth-Berwickshire/Article/201008115677909%3Ff%3Drss&a=22165325&rid=13779cad-b2dc-429b-8071-7fa1142ee077&e=444f2e12e47526b1a21801e7715efe2d">One Missing At Sea After Ferry Collision</a> (news.sky.com)</li></ul></div> <div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=13779cad-b2dc-429b-8071-7fa1142ee077" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4588845755731668657.post-56824541224867122862010-08-12T04:46:00.000-07:002010-08-12T09:56:55.059-07:00Beautiful visions of nature<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TGPyYSYzJZI/AAAAAAAAAfk/cdNfYD7Foy8/s1600/meteorshower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TGPyYSYzJZI/AAAAAAAAAfk/cdNfYD7Foy8/s400/meteorshower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504509668643513746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TGPxC8yEUYI/AAAAAAAAAfc/rvXIg3vRVmg/s1600/perseid-meteor-shower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 292px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GqOSFt4HRoo/TGPxC8yEUYI/AAAAAAAAAfc/rvXIg3vRVmg/s400/perseid-meteor-shower.jpg" border="0" /></a>I have been reminded of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perseids" title="Perseids" rel="wikipedia">Perseid Meteor shower</a> that the earth goes through every year, will be at its peak tonight, and that the Southwest of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=55.95,-3.2&spn=10.0,10.0&q=55.95,-3.2%20%28Scotland%29&t=h" title="Scotland" rel="geolocation">Scotland</a> will be one of the best places to see it.<br />It just so happens that I am one of the lucky ones who live there and will be looking skyward from 11pm onward to witness once again the wonderful sight nature gifts us with when this event occurs.<br />It is not very often this part of Scotland has clear enough skies that allow us to witness the spectacular show, so I will be making the most of it.<br /><br />The first time I witnessed this wonder of nature was when I was at the fishing, on the "Replenish," tailing prawns, well into the night, in the middle of The <a class="zem_slink" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=53.7216666667,-5.17722222222&spn=0.1,0.1&q=53.7216666667,-5.17722222222%20%28Irish%20Sea%29&t=h" title="Irish Sea" rel="geolocation">Irish Sea</a> and it was by chance that I looked towards the heavens just as an array of <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meteoroid" title="Meteoroid" rel="wikipedia">shooting stars</a> (dust particles as small as a grain of sand) flew through the darkened sky. I watch in amazement as each particle burned up producing tails of light across the sky, hitting our atmosphere at 135,000 miles an hour, although I never knew that at the time.<br /><br />We were just in the right place, on the right night, away from light-polluted cities and towns that could clutter our vision, and reduce the spectacle of this marvelous sight.<br /> Only us, the calm open sea and the stars above.<br /><br />Stars above, shooting stars, that gave us the most brilliant display of astral fireworks I have ever seen, and it was from then on that I took more of an interest in the night sky, and what was really "out there" which led to my blog, "unfeatheredangels" now well on its way to being published as a book.<br /><br />This particular meteor shower is caused by earth passing through the tail of the <a class="zem_slink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Comet" title="Comet" rel="wikipedia">comet</a> "SWIFT-TUTTLE" which leaves particles of dust and debris in its wake as it travels speedily ever onward in its orbit so far away from us, but will return next year to amaze us all again.<br /><br />I was fortunate to witness many of natures wonderful sights when I was at sea, like fantastic, romantic sunsets where silver and amber beams shone through clouds of gold,above an island that appeared to rise out of the sea on the distant horizon. <br /><br />(With no one to share them with, except a motley crew of men. Ahhhhh)<br /><br />Beautiful sunrises, shining deep red behind pink fluffy clouds, reflecting varying shades of lilac on the slight ripples stirred on the sea by the warm breeze whispering across it on a summer morning.<br /><br />The fishing had its good points, and even on stormy days or nights, mother nature could still dish up some extraordinary visions in the sky, although we might not have appreciated it then, our attention most likely being focused on survival at the time, battling against the more formidable side of mother nature and only realizing what we had seen afterwards.<br /><br />I have these visions in my memory, to treasure all my life, and tonight when I watch the stars shooting across the sky, my thoughts will return to the night I first saw them whizzing overhead in the darkness high above The Irish Sea.<br /><br /><div class="zemanta-related"><h6 class="zemanta-related-title" style="margin: 1em 0pt 0pt; font-size: 1em;">Related articles by Zemanta</h6><ul class="zemanta-article-ul"><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.channel4.com/news/articles/science_technology/spectacular+perseids+meteor+shower+due/3741277">Spectacular Perseids meteor shower due</a> (channel4.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://www.gadling.com/2010/08/11/the-perseids-meteor-shower-an-august-tradition/">The Perseids meteor shower, an August tradition</a> (gadling.com)</li><li class="zemanta-article-ul-li"><a href="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2012595072_perseidmeteor11.html?syndication=rss">Clear skies predicted for Perseid meteor shower</a> (seattletimes.nwsource.com)</li></ul></div> <div style="margin-top: 10px; height: 15px;" class="zemanta-pixie"><a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img style="border: medium none ; float: right;" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=1dd5635d-1e9d-4104-8a3b-769fd501d81d" alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" /></a><span class="zem-script more-related pretty-attribution"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.zemanta.com/readside/loader.js" defer="defer"></script></span></div>Donald Swarbrickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12599898195409972731noreply@blogger.com15