THE POWER OF THE TIDES

THE POWER OF THE TIDES

As the saying goes, 'Time and Tides wait for no man'. We all know that time either drags, when you're bored, or races away when you're doing something interesting. However, tides remain constant, the ebb and flow repeating with monotonous regularity over roughly a 12 hour cycle. They also have a noticeable effect on out shoreline

First, a bit technical information Along a wave-dominated shoreline fine sediments of silt and clay remain suspended and are winnowed away. This leaves coarser sand and gravel behind. Thus fine grains are deposited offshore, where they remain largely undisturbed while sand and dominate the beach.

Now, as an artist, I find this is where nature produces its own art - changing every day. The beaches around here are relatively shallow, once you get away from the steep shingle foreshore. When the tide goes out a wonderful combination of rock pools and large flat areas of sand are produced. When I walk out, with Aggie, at low tide, I often find myself singing that wonderful song by the the band, America, 'A Horse with no Name' - 'The ocean is a desert with its life underground and a perfect disguise above'.

The above two collages show how amazingly different the sandy beaches are sculpted by the movement of the tide. Also, surprisingly delicate, tree-like patterns are often formed.

Altogether surprising when you consider how powerful the the movement of the tides is.

GROYNES & LONGSHORE DRIFT

GROYNES AND LONGSHORE DRIFT

Weathered groynes at Winchelsea Beach

In a previous entry I've talked about the winter task of moving shingle back from Rye Harbour to Pett Level. And, if it wasn't for the groynes, it would return much quicker. 

This constant movement is caused by longshore drift. I quote,

'Longshore sediment transport/Littoral drift is a geological process that consists of the transportation of sediments (clay, silt, sand and shingle) along a coast parallel to the shoreline, which is dependent on an oblique incoming wave direction.'

Groynes buried in shingle, high up the beach

In effect, this means that, in our case, shingle is carried the five or so miles, along the coast from Cliff End to the breakwater at Rye Harbour. Wooden groynes, placed at right-angle to the shoreline, constructed from stout timbers, are positioned every 80 -100 metres. These have the effect of holding the shingle back, thus slowing the effect of the longshore drift.

Groynes battered by the sea, Cliff End.

THE MARY STANFORD LIFEBOAT TRAGEDY

Nearly 90 years ago, on November 15, 1928, the worst disaster occurred in the history of British lifeboats. In those days, lifeboats were powered by oarsmen and sails and not self-righting, as they are today. An old steamship, the Alice of Riga, carrying a load of bricks, was making her way down channel. The wind wind blowing force 10, the seas were mountainous and visibility severely restricted. A larger vessel, The Smyrna, despite having reduced speed due to the conditions, ploughed into the stern of the Alice.

A distress signal was sent out, maroons were fired and the lifeboat crew set off in the early hours to walk the mile and a half to launch the lifeboat. The tide was out so they had to drag the boat across the shingle. It took several attempts to launch her. Meanwhile, the crew of the Alice abandoned ship and took to the lifeboats. Despite the horrendous weather conditions the Riga succeeded in rescuing all 14 crew members. A message was sent to the lifeboat crew but it was too late - they had already set sail.

Later that morning the lifeboat was seen off the harbour mouth, possibly waiting for to enough water to cross the sand bar. She was seen to alter course - the wind was still blowing gale force - then she disappeared in a squall. The next sighting was of her capsizing.

Although searches were made, none of 17 crew members was saved. These were the cream of the men from the village of Rye Harbour - not a single family, in the tight-knit community - was unaffected.

‘Waves may batter men’s bodies, but they cannot touch brave souls. Search Sussex, search England and you could not find braver men, every man was a volunteer.’

What is now known as the old lifeboat house still stands as a sad testament to those who lost their lives in selfless sacrifice.

DUNGENESS DAYDREAMING

1961 Lighthouse - Dungeness

A bit of a misleading title as it was not a day for daydreaming. Despite the wind being from the south it was decidedly chilly. But, I love it like that - raw and elemental. It's such an unusual place - designated as Britain's only desert and the biggest single shingle spit in Europe.

Coastguard lookout tower and 1901 lighthouse

There have been seven lighthouses at Dungeness - two low and five high. The current lighthouse, commissioned in 1961, replaced its 1901 predecessor, which was obscured when the nuclear power station was constructed.

Nuclear power station

There are other existing structures including a coastguard lookout tower - now a holiday home, a number of military buildings, some crumbling, some restored. Also a foghorn and a strange elevated frame, use for fishing boats to navigate their way safely home to the beach.

Nuclear flasks

Today I was lucky (?) to spot a train of nuclear flasks waiting to start their journey to the reprocessing plant at Sellafield. Hauled by a pair of class 68 diesel locomotives, a friend who works on the railway said it's unusual to see three flasks in the train. It's usually on one or two, so perhaps I was lucky.

MEDITATION AND QIGONG

I practiced Buddhist meditation for over 20 years and found it helped me relax and become more accepting of of my circumstances and in tune with life. So it was no great surprise that I decided to incorporate the practice in my new novel, Blood on the Shrine*. 

The book opens during a Buddhist retreat where a senior Tibetan monk is discovered to have died while meditating. I won't give the plot away but something happens while he is in a deep transcendental state. I understand, that when experienced meditators achieve this state the pulse slows, as does the breathing and the body all but shuts down. There is anecdotal evidence that suggests that: 

If the person is able to remain in this state for more than three weeks - which rarely happens - his body gradually shrinks, and in the end all that remains from the person is his hair, nails, and clothes.

Usually in this case, people who live near the monk see a rainbow that glows in the sky for several days. This means that he has found a 'rainbow body'. This is the highest state close to the state of Buddha'.

If the meditator can continue to stay in this meditative state, he can become a Buddha.

In The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Soygal Rinpoche says:

A realised practitioner continues to abide by the recognition of the nature of mind at the moment of death, and awakens into the Ground Luminosity when it manifests. He or she may even remain in that state for a number of days. Some practitioners and masters die sitting upright in that state for a number of days. Some practitioners and masters die sitting upright in meditation posture. Besides their perfect poise, there will be other signs that show they are resting in the state of the Ground Luminosity: 

There is still a certain color and glow in their face, the nose does not sink inward, the skin remains soft and flexible, the body does not become stiff, the eyes are said to keep a soft and compassionate glow, and there is still a warmth at the heart. Great care is taken that the master’s body is not touched, and silence is maintained until he or she has arisen from this state of meditation.

I tried Tai chi for a while but just couldn't get the hang of it. I found it too formalised and the moves, too complicated. Then I discovered Qigong - or chi kung - which literally means, 'Life Energy Cultivation'. Qigong practice typically involves moving meditation, coordinating slow flowing movement, deep rhythmic breathing, and calm meditative state of mind. It was much more my thing. Perhaps I'll incorporate it in future book.

*'BLOOD ON THE SHRINE' will be published very soon - watch this space.

SHIFTING THE SHINGLE - PART 2

Continuing from my earlier post about Shifting the Shingle I've come across some wonderful photographs showing the railway along the sea wall at Pett Level. 

St Nicholas - Pett Level

They were displayed in the little St Nicholas Chapel, just off the beach. This is lovingly tended by our friend, Fran, who provides tea and coffee for visitors as well as books to borrow. But it wasn't always a church.

 

Originally it was owned by the Admiralty and called the rocket house. Not the firework type, but the sort used by the coastguards to fire a line to ships in distress. The line would be attached to a heavier rope. This would be tied off on the ship and a breeches buoy - a sort of lifebelt and harness combination, rather like a slow aerial runway - would be used to bring the souls ashore.

As I said, there is now a whole lot of old photos on display, these ones showing the two-foot gauge railway that originally ran along the sea wall from Rye Harbour, carrying shingle.  One of the old locals told me that towards the end of WW2 an American bomber ditched, just off the beach. None of the crew were injured and they were taken to the harbour - the nearest point of civilisation at the time - sitting in the skip wagons on the railway. 

This last photo shows the railway, facing east, with the nascent caravan park, just inland.

DAYLIGHT ROBBERY

DAYLIGHT ROBBERY

Billy Hill

While researching for BLOOD ON THE SHRINE (to be published soon!) I came across The Eastcastle Street raid which took place on 21st May 1952. At the time it was Britain's largest post-war robbery. Seven masked men held up a post office van, just off Oxford Street, and got away with £287,000, worth over seven million pounds, by today's calculations.

Morris Commercial Post Office van

The robbers used two cars to sandwich the van; the two attendants were dragged out and coshed, and the van was stolen. It was later found abandoned; 18 of the 31 mailbags were missing. For some time it was thought to be an inside job, as the van's alarm had been tampered with. However, no-one was convicted, the robbers were never caught and none of the money was ever recovered.

Up until then, most robberies had been fairly haphazard affairs - a couple of men with stocking masks and sawn-off shotguns would hold up a bank. They would hope a diligent clerk wouldn't press the panic button and that the driver in the getaway car would still be outside and that they'd actually get a decent amount of money. Often they were disappointed. This one was was different.

Billy Hill's mugshots 

For a start it was meticulously planned. The gangsters pretended they were making a film in the area, whilst planning the raid. Also they set up a roadblock so the van had to divert, making it easier to trap it. Churchill, the prime minister at the time, was so concerned that not only did the government offer a £25,000 reward but he insisted on daily updates and a thousand police officers took part in searches.

Terry 'Lucky Tel' Hogan

In my book, a local felon, Tommy Atkins, is organising a raid on a mail train in the mid 1950s (some years before the Great Train Robbery which took place in 1963) and claims that he was a lookout on the Eastcastle Street Raid. He said that he learned from Billy and Tel that, 'you've got to stick to a plan.' And that, 'you've got to keep it simple, keep it small and, above all else, keep it quiet.'