West Coaster

By WestCoaster

Paddling past the Perch

Today I was up and about early, not so much through choice but more with the pain in my hand, worse today but all part of the healing process. The painkillers too have taken their toll and have left me somewhat under the weather in recent days. Unusually I could not garner the enthusiasm to walk this morning, it was overcast threatening rain which duly came in small light episodes the remnants of the cycle from last night drifting away. I consoled myself with a pint of steaming hot tea and settled with my ipod to listen to old tunes, bands that play what my friend refers to as Bumpy Music and I have caught myself using it when turning over in my mind what I want to listen to. Music is my escape and so it proved this morning with time slipping away almost unnoticed. My friend kept me company with some texts which always make me smile.

I was bereft of a Blip and with the light poor I was not hopeful but I thought I might have to resort to one of my emergency blips and so set off on the short drive, fate however intervened and as I drove over the high road I could see the Waverley making way up the river, I turned the car and raced the old girl, she up the river, me over an old single track road to drop me down to the river where I hoped to catch here with the lighthouse just to break the blandness of her alone.

I parked and ran along the river to where I wanted to shoot from, there was an retired couple waiting too, he with camera poised and she sitting a short distance away. I ran passed them and had time to shoot a single frame as she passed the perch lighthouse.

We Scots speak to everyone and I spoke to the old couple who had been waving at the steamer as she passed, a couple of teenagers had mocked them for waving, like a scene from Chewing the Fat I turned and glared at them and I think they thought we were all together so they decided and further comment may be a poor life choice. Their grandson was working as an engineer on her and today their daughter, visiting from Ireland, was sailing on her so they felt inclined to wave even if they could not see their loved one. We chatted for a few minutes and they told me how their grandson usually worked on large pleasure yachts, the millionaires plaything but he was paid well and saw the world as they plied the Med and the Caribbean, I could see the pride in their eyes as they spoke of him and it was lovely to see.

We parted with a wave and I watched for a moment as they strolled away arms linked their steps falling into time, their mission accomplished. I had the river to myself again, lonely but never alone here, I grudgingly bade her farewell and walked back to the car and took the short drive back to the house.


I hope you enjoy this entry, I shot her again with just the reds saturated I like the idea of her in her heyday when she was one of many steamers that took trippers on the river. I love that she is still sailing, I love that she is still on the Clyde, her home, and I love that I can still enjoy seeing her as she passes, maybe someday I will make the trip, maybe not, but regardless she is a sight to behold. Best viewed in large I suspect.

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