life on the hill – crown of thorns

The first chestnuts on the Hill – minuscule and inedible, but a start nevertheless

the soundtrack of the loveliest season

Leaves of brown they fall to the ground
And it's here, over there leaves abound
Shut the door, dim the lights and relax
What is more, your desire or the facts

Pitter patter of rain falling down
Little gleam of sun comin’ round
Take a walk when autumn comes to town

Little stroll past the house on the hill
Some more coal on the fire if you will
And in a week or two will be Halloween
Set the page and the stage for the scene

A little game that the children will play
And as we watch them while time away
You look at me and take my breath away, hmm

You'll be smiling, eyes beguilding
And the song on the breeze
Will call my name out in your dream

Chestnuts roasting outside as you walk
With your love by your side
The old accordion man plays mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night

A little later friends will be along
And if you feel like joining the throng
You just may feel like singing Autumn song
You just may feel like …

You'll be smiling
Eyes beguiling
And the song on the breeze
Calls my name out in your dream

Chestnuts roasting outside
As you walk with your love by your side
And the old accordion man plays mellow, mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night …

A little later friends will be along
And if you feel like joining the throng
You just may feel like singing Autumn song
Autumn song

It just may break out
You just may have to lose control
‘Cos you got it in your soul

You just may, you just may have to break out
And I hear the church bells chime
Way out in the distance …

Autumn Song, Van Morrison

It's so peaceful inside

the soundtrack of lovely water

Half a mile from the county fair

And the rain came pourin' down

Me and Billy standin' there

With a silver half a crown

Hands are full of a fishin' rod

And the tackle on our backs

We just stood there gettin' wet

With our backs against the fence

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Hope it don't rain all day

[Chorus:]

And it stoned me to my soul

Stoned me just like Jelly Roll

And it stoned me

And it stoned me to my soul

Stoned me just like goin' home

And it stoned me

Then the rain let up and the sun came up

And we were gettin' dry

Almost let a pick-up truck nearly pass us by

So we jumped right in and the driver grinned

And he dropped us up the road

We looked at the swim and we jumped right in

Not to mention fishing poles

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Let it run all over me

[Chorus]

On the way back home we sang a song

But our throats were getting dry

Then we saw the man from across the road

With the sunshine in his eyes

Well he lived all alone in his own little home

With a great big gallon jar

There were bottles too, one for me and you

And he said Hey! There you are

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Oh, the water

Get it myself from the mountain stream

[Chorus]

And It Stoned Me, Van Morrison

It rained today on the Hill. And it stoned me to my soul.

life afloat – more seabirds (and a pair of waders)

A selection of seabirds, some of which I couldn't identify (other than to call them "gulls") even with professional help.

 

"What does the old geezer want with me? Better leg it ..." – herring gull (Larus argentatus).

Gull

Mediterranean gull (Larus melanocephalus)

Gull

Standing guard

"Hey earthling!"

Gull

Beautiful symmetry – herring gull (Larus argentatus)

"Hey motor boatman, I'll race you" – Mediterranean gull (Larus melanocephalus)

Casting pearls – Mediterranean gull (Larus melanocephalus) lifting off in a trail of droplets

You beauty – oystercatcher (Haematopus ostralegus)

Pair of oystercatchers

Sanderlings alighting – (Calidris alba)

Poetry in motion – Cory's shearwater banking (Calonectris diomedea)

Sanderlings wading

We have lift-off – Mediterranean gull (Larus melanocephalus)

In the glow of the setting sun – Mediterranean gull (Larus melanocephalus)

Toeing the line – Cory's shearwater (Calonectris diomedea) zipping across the horizon

A bird of a different kind flying over the anchorage

the soundtrack of vice and lies

Just one vice is all, is all any man needs
To make him happy
This old man, he's got, he's got all he needs
To keep him happy

Just one lie is all, you find you can't breathe
But you are happy,
My advice, why not take two or three
If you're feeling lucky

Hold on tight
Let it eat you from inside
Take you away
You are safe

Just one lie is all, is all any man needs
To keep him happy
My advice, why not take two or three
If you're feeling lucky

Hold on tight
Don't let go
Let it eat you from inside
Take you away
You are safe


Killjoy, The Czars

In for a penny, in for a pound – take two or three if you're feeling lucky

life afloat – the boats

The various anchorages at Culatra harbour an always interesting repository – sometimes floating, sometimes not – of historical or beautiful or weird yacht design. A few examples.

Pretty gaff-rigged dinghy, zipping around the anchorage at the end of the day.

Boat Sematary. Many of these still float when the tide comes in, though some do not. None, however, look like they're going anywhere ever again. People live in them, sometimes building shacks ashore to store years' worth of accumulated junk. Not a particularly friendly community.

A Cal 40, one of a historical class . Arguably the most successful production sailboat ever, a revolutionary 1963 design from the board of William Lapworth, today she seems a smallish, discrete, unassuming 40-footer. You wouldn't know just from looking at her that representatives of this design won most of the great American ocean races – SORC, Bermuda, Transpac, Mo Bay and so many others – several times over, in a career spanning many years. A classic, and, to my eyes, a beauty, though classic wooden boat snobs disdain its GRP construction. 

A Colin Archer – or something very like it. I'm not particularly fond of this style of boat – ponderous, and oh so very slow (a production version built by Californian company Westsail was dubbed at the time a Wet Snail) – but they undoubtedly look stylish, even pretty, in an anchorage.

A very good looking custom catamaran – as far as any catamaran can be called "good looking". 
She had one of the better-designed dinghies we saw, though I didn't manage to get a picture. 
Very neat.

Abandoned fisherman's shack in the tidal cove.

The fishing fleet in port, the anchorage in the background. Noble Arquimedes in dark blue on the left, lording it over the characterless plastic surrounding her.

Nimbus, brother Pedro and cousin Pedro aboard.

A proper dinghy, the Nutshell Pram, designed by the late, great Joel White (son of the late, 
great E. B.). The first one I ever saw, after reading about them for years in WoodenBoat magazine – and building a model of one, see below.

My model of the Nutshell Pram, sailing in the test tank at the Hill.

The Colin Archer at dusk. Like I said – they always look good.

A careened Outremer catamaran (a 55', I think). Again, one wouldn't call her pretty, but believe me they're one of the more desirable cruising brands – quick, safe, comfortable. 
Just great all-around boats.

A rather peculiar Wharram pahi catamaran, with a rig in each hull and a very, very odd bubble cabin on the platform (I wouldn't want to be caught out in bad weather in that). Designed by pioneering multi huller James Wharram for amateur construction (in plywood), it is not unusual for them to reflect their owners' idiosyncrasies – but this one takes the biscuit amongst all those I've seen so far.   

Praying mantis. A large Pacific proa which came in on the last day. Pacific proas (one large main hull, one small float to windward) are a very elegant concept, but this one – though interesting – looks too big and cumbersome to be effective.

The Boat Race. The winning gig during the celebrations of the feast of Our Lady of Navigators.

A lovely little trimaran, used as a tender by one of the boats in the anchorage. I was sorry not to have seen her sailing; maybe next year.

Another rather peculiar boat, a monohull this time. Don't know the designer, but she looks very typical of a certain type of English (English, not British) racer of the 50s and 60s, with a reverse sheer and rounded hull-to-deck joint. When the Fool was young, during a school trip to the docks of Lisbon, one of his non-sailing friends, spying one of these, asked whether it was a submarine. It could be, Júlio, it could very well be.

life afloat – south seas

"Qu'ils mangent de la brioche!" Fresh bread and brioche bought off a French boat at the anchorage

Over the boardwalk, down to the sea (with apologies to The Drifters)

Bahamanian shoals (in a slightly darker, greener shade ...)

Tidal flats (the Captain, our Captain, and the Princess of Ireland in the far background)

Digging for clams

Clam digger and his paraphernalia

On the beach. Walking home at the end of the day

Bright lights, big city. Culatra by night.

life afloat – effrikkah!

The port

All dressed up and ready for the feast of Our Lady of The Assumption

Setting up for the fun of the fair

Africa?

The Caribbean?

Africa?

The Caribbean?

The Caribbean?

Africa?

Heart of darkness (Kurtz's trading post up the river)? Culatra – ilha do Farol.