Dog Days along the River
Those few days that seem to last for ever after the hype of Christmas and the New Year – a period marked by lethargy, inactivity and/or indolence, teetering on the brink of torpor of the tropics!! Get stirring, Kent!! However, just the occasional tripper boat hoots its way to and from Greenwich Pier; the occasional forlorn sculler keeps a wary eye out for the odd incoming luxury launch. Slick streamlining defines its purpose inbound from the Solent for a few days’ jolly up at St. Katherines Haven by the Tower prior to reporting for duty at the Boat Show held annually at Excel in early January. Memories of the Earls Court Boat Show with flowing Guiness and shell fish consumed in quantity by hearty yachties greeting their chums in these hallowed halls.
Meanwhile the working fleets of lighters are towed through the capital which still requires their constant care, removing the seasonal excess to landfill and process plants towards the estuary. As ever, lofty cranes perched high above massive building sites await the labour force to return from their new year breaks, scattered around their Brexit-land family homes, returning in trepidation of whatever their politicians thrash out.
Welcome callers include the maritime academic Brian Lavery from his new Sussex home – which reminds me of a New Year resolution to illustrate the King’s Yard at Deptford as viewed from John Evelyn’s house and estate. His enthusiasm has fired me up to prepare some sketches based on his research while here at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich. Believe it or not, I have a distant aspect upstream of the shipyard from my studio window which, once known as Convoys Newsprint Wharf, is due for a massive redevelopment, so I ought to look lively before the ‘Olympia’ ship building sheds disappear from view.
New Year burst in with asunder as the first of the thousands of fireworks crash and roar through the skyways over the capital and its new, high rise structures. Even from our own deck, where a generous guest lashed out on a major rocket soaring high above, scaring the living daylights out of the seagull population climbing for safety, their white silhouettes formed by a snooping micro light relaying our special air space to one and all of the revellers on terra firma.