Monthly Archives: June 2012

Jun 7 2012

The find

The Cave

The Cave (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Tommy eased himself down from the upper bunk, silently watching his brother as he descended. His feet reached the floor with a touch and he groped around for his clothes. Gathering them up, he shot one last look at the lower bunk to make sure that his morning expedition had not been discovered before it had started. He opened the door with just the right amount of practised force to avoid the creak that the hinges usually made and made his way along the passage.

The early dawn light was streaming in through the rippled bathroom window and he set about pulling on his clothes. There wasn’t long before the tide turned so time was of the essence. He simply had to find something today. Declan had been boasting all week about the driftwood he had found on the beach. Etched into the worn wood had been the word “Viceroy” – obviously the nameplate of a vessel. Today was the last day before the Summer holidays and if Tommy didn’t find a more interesting relic, then bragging rights would be lost until the Autumn.

Slipping the latch on the gate, he was away across the cliff top. The strong wind tugged at his clothes as he skittered across the wet rocks. He quickly reached the top of smugglers’ steps and surveyed the beach before him. As the radio man had said – it was a very low tide today exposing the Western shore. Despite the greasiness of the steps, he took them two at a time bounding quickly down to the sand below.

In a moment, he was at the edge of the small river which crossed the beach. Despite his haste, he paused to study the stepping-stones that threaded their way across the river. Experience had taught him that the stones often shifted and became unstable. A moment studying them was worth it to avoid a ducking by putting too much weight on a wobbly stone. Skipping safely across, he ran across the sand to the caves of the Western shore.

Peering into the first cave, Tommy could hear dripping as the recently departed tide gave up its grip on the rarely exposed rocks. He liked to call this the eyeball cave as the walls were studded with glistening stones and bits of tin that seemed to stare as you made your way further inside. Making his way to the back of the cave, he came to the pools that gathered in the bowl-shaped rocks. Scanning them for any interesting flotsam, he could see nothing to catch his eye.

The second cave was known as hangman’s cave, due to the length of grey rope hanging down from the roof where it had somehow become embedded. As he neared the back of the cave, Tommy caught his breath – there was driftwood, several pieces. He examined each in turn, rolling them over and over in his hands. With disappointment, he noted that there was nothing special about the pieces of wood. But there was still the last cave, if there was time.

Dead man’s cave was so-called because many foolhardy souls had lost their lives trying to get back from it. With that thought on his mind, Tommy eyed the turning tide, weighing his chances. The thought of the insufferable, boasting Declan spurred him on and he raced across the sand towards the cave mouth. Twice, the advancing waves nearly soaked his shoes, but he managed to jump clear each time. Breathless, he peered into the last cave.

A broad smile lit up his face and he threw his arms up in the air. There was no-one there to hear him, but he cheered anyway. He had hit the jackpot. Again, there was driftwood, but among the ragged pile was a small wooden box. It was heavy and elaborately carved. The metal bands surrounding the box had saved it from the worst ravages of the sea, but it was still battered in places. To Tommy, it was the finest sight ever. He eased the box open. Inside was a tightly tied leather bag. Closing the box, his thoughts turned back to the tide. It was time to go.

The waves were now lapping around the entrance to the cave – it was going to be close. Tommy timed the approach of the incoming waves, picking his moment carefully. At the right time, he dashed across the beach at full pelt. He got halfway to hangman’s cave when a surging wave enveloped his feet and lower legs. He stumbled and grabbed the rocks for support. The wave ebbed away, and he began to run once more. Another wave – this one to his thighs. With one hand he grabbed the rocks again, keeping a deathlike grip on the box with the other.

At the second cave mouth, he paused for breath and assessed the tide. He had definitely left it too late. There was no time to lose as he made his way once more. The next wave pulled him away from the rocks and he found himself flailing in the surf. As it receded, he managed to find his feet only for another wave to lift him and send him perilously close to the rocks. Fear gripped his stomach and he clenched his eyes shut holding the small wooden box close to his chest.

Mistiming a breath, he took in a full lung full of cold briny water as a wave broke over him. Coughing and spluttering, he risked a glance towards the shore and panicked as he saw how far out he was. Clutching the wooden box for all his life, he felt a rip tide tug him under the surface. His strength had deserted him and his struggles became feeble as he realised the futility of his situation. Just as he gave up completely, he felt himself lurching towards the surface as a large hand grabbed the scruff of his clothes.

He was pulled into a small fishing vessel and cast upon the floor with rest of the fisherman’s catch. He wanted to thank his saviour, but couldn’t stop choking. Eventually, he managed to bring up enough of the water to speak. As he smiled up at the fisherman, all he could manage was “I’ve found this box.” before he fell back among the fish unconscious.

Related articles
Jun 7 2012

Feel the power

English: One of the Maid of the Mist tour boat...

English: One of the Maid of the Mist tour boats approaching the Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. Français : Un bateau d’excursion approche de la Horseshoe Falls, du côté canadien des chutes du Niagara. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

An experience I will never forget is seeing Niagara Falls for the first time. Although I heard it first, a kind of unrelenting thunder as the constant torrent of water crashed over into the basin below. As we approached, the noise grew and the falls only seemed more epic in scale. We saw them from several angles. Obviously, we had to approach them by boat on the Maid of the Mist. Although a hugely enjoyable trip, unfortunately to anyone wearing glasses, the visual fidelity is ruined by the ever present mist.

We heard a number of facts and figures whilst we were there, but I think the thing that impressed me most was the fact that the flow of water over the falls was virtually halved because of the hydroelectric power stations operating at the top of the falls. The fact that the sheer natural power we were witnessing was only operating at half strength astonished me. How much more impressive would the falls be if the power stations relaxed their grip on the river Niagara?

In power generation, it pays to think big. Watching an episode of a children’s educational program all about a hydroelectric power station under construction in Snowdonia, it struck me as ambitious in scope. The whole idea was to let the water from a lake at the top of a mountain fall through a huge turbine in the middle of a mountain in order to generate power. During the night, the water would be pumped back up to the lake using cheap off peak electricity.

I happened to visit the Dinorwig power station some time after construction was complete. Although there is a lot to do in Llanberis, a brief respite from the rain was very welcome as we took the coach deep into the heart of “Electric Mountain”. The fact that the drive into the mountain takes several minutes gives some idea of the scale of the operation. Eventually, we disembarked in the very heart of the cathedral like generating chamber. The huge turbines make such a racket, the very floor shakes.

More conventional power stations can also be a site to see. On a visit to Dungeness nuclear power station, I remember being impressed by the scale, but less impressed by the 1960s era control equipment. Once he had grasped the fundamental operation of the plant, my brother dismissed it as “just a giant kettle” and proceeded to tell us how bored he was every five minutes. I found it much more interesting, but I have to say it paled in comparison to the mother nature powered installations I would come to see.

There is something enticing about the idea of energy for nothing – certainly in these days of rising energy costs. There are some who say that the new three bladed wind turbines spraining up over our landscape are ugly. I like them, both aesthetically and philosophically. Those simple white structures standing like sentinels around the countryside whir away generating power from the primal force of the wind. I hope they build many more.

There are massive reserves of natural energy lying completely untapped. Research is going on into harnessing the power of the sea through tidal and wave machines. Scientists are developing large kites to fly in the jet stream where the wind is so much more powerful than on the surface. Just How long will it be before the world’s deserts are covered in arrays of solar panels silently generating all the power we will ever need?

Related articles
Jun 3 2012

Pack up your troubles

English: Royal standard of members of the Brit...

English: Royal standard of members of the British Royal Family without their own standards (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In one of the few remaining countries with a reigning monarch, any royal event is bound to be significant. People sometimes question the wisdom of paying large quantities of money from the civil list to various brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins third removed that make up the Royal Family. Advocates always point to the tourist revenue generated because of the Royal family and the hard diplomatic and charitable work that the main Royals undertake. Detractors make the point that many of those tourists would have come anyway and that the work could be done much cheaper. For me, there are bigger things to be concerned about.

In the world today, there is a lot of worry. In the UK, we worry about recession and lack of growth. The Americans are worrying about their level of debt and losing their grip on superpower status as younger countries catch up. The Europeans are worried about the Euro and the nations that are both figuratively and geographically clinging onto Europe. In Germany, they are worried about the final bill for a working Euro whereas in Greece they cling on to Europe with the finger of one hand whilst waving goodbye with the other.

Everyone worries about the atrocities in Syria and the simmering conflict between Israel and Palestine. Are we leaving Afghanistan too soon or too late? Despite the supposed destruction of Al Qaeda, terrorism remains at the back of our minds. The Chinese worry about losing control of their people. In Japan they are rebuilding their country following the dreadful Tsunami that we all watched in high definition. In Africa, people are either starving or fighting (or sometimes both).

This Summer in the United Kingdom, all of the worries in the world will be forgotten temporarily. With the Queen’s diamond jubilee and the London Olympics taking place this year, the British people will do as only we know how. Today, a pageant containing 1,000 vessels headed by the Queen will make its way down the Thames. Despite all the misery in the world, we are going to have one hell of a party…. in the rain.

Related articles
Jun 2 2012

A brief history of warfare

This image was selected as a picture of the we...

This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Malay Wikipedia for the 44th week, 2009. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Over time, the human race has devoted a lot of energy to finding creative new ways to hurt or kill each other. Back in the dragging women back to the cave by their hair days, sticks and stones were the order of the day. Plentiful and easily fashioned, these devices would do the job but it would be messy and time consuming. Not only that, but if both of you are similarly armed, regardless of the victor, it’s highly likely you will both be hurting afterwards. Sooner or later, one bright caveman realised that if you took a very small, sharp stone and attached it to a stick, it could be thrown some distance with accuracy. Once the spear had been invented, cavemen no longer had to fight at such close quarters.

Sharpened flints were all well and good, but they were a bit crude. When metals were discovered, weapons could be much more strong and finely constructed. The sword became the order of the day. Some of them were sharp and some of them were heavy, but they were all effective. In response to this, metalworkers developed armour and shields. In order to breech the armour, bows and arrows and crossbows came about. Nothing struck fear into the heart of a warrior in plate mail armour than a crossbowman.

For a time, occupiers built castles which were a hardy defence to most of the weapons of the day. With the advent of gunpowder and cannons, the balance of power changed yet again. The walls could be easily breached and deadly missiles could rain down into the interior of the castle. Muskets and rifles reduced the skill level required of the average foot soldier and increased his range.

During world war I, there were a number of advancements. Aeroplanes were used for reconnaissance and later for bombing missions. Once the bombers became enough of a nuisance, fighters were developed. The most famous of which being Baron von Richthofen in his glorious red Fokker DR1 triplane. Trench warfare was the order of the day. The only way to advance was to assemble a large number of men and go “over the top”. With the advent of the machine gun, such tactics were stopped in their tracks. A well aimed machine gun operated by a handful of men could take out hundreds of soldiers. In order to counter this, the tank was developed. Because it was bulletproof and had caterpillar tracks, the tank could advance with impunity.

By the time world war II started, aircraft could fly much further and could carry a lot more. It is hard to believe now, but at times during world war II, it was routine for London and Berlin, both European capital cities, to have many tons of high explosives dropped on them on a nightly basis. When you think that the slightest innocent casualty in a war today causes an outcry, it’s a sobering thought. With the advent of the V1 and V2 rockets, missile technology was well and truly here to stay. When the nuclear bombs dropped on Japan, the scene was set for the cold war.

Fast forward to the first gulf war and the tales of cruise missiles flying down streets and navigating through towns were absolutely mesmerising. By the time we got to the second gulf war, laser guided missiles meant that explosives could be delivered with pinpoint accuracy. With all this technology, sometimes the most effective weapons are the most simple and Improvised Explosive Devices (or IEDs) have been used to murderous effect by the Taliban in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Weapons get more sophisticated by the day. Bullets can now go round corners and there is enough destructive power in the world’s nuclear arsenal to lay waste to our wonderful planet several times over. It is no wonder that Albert Einstein said that he had no idea what weapons would be used in world war III, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.

Related articles
Jun 2 2012

Running into trouble

Hoar frost or soft rime on a cold winter day i...

Hoar frost or soft rime on a cold winter day in Lower Saxony, Germany. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As he slammed the heavy wooden door shut, he breathed deeply through his nose and exhaled in a cloudy breath. Checking his watch with satisfaction, he noted that it was just after 7AM. Plenty of time for a refreshing run before making his way into the office. Running was his favourite way to get things straight when he had a lot on his mind and today he had more than usual to think about. He picked his way across the street between the cars as a milk float droned past. In only moments, he was through the iron railings and into the park.

On a good day, it took him roughly 5-10 minutes to do a full circuit around the lake and back to the gap in the railings. He mentally set himself a target of 5 laps which would leave him plenty of time to take a hot shower before the commute to the office. Quickly finding a rhythm, he settled into an easy pace and allowed himself to take in the misty scene before him. The lake had a skin of ice across the surface and he smiled to himself as he noted a duck slipping on the glossy surface.

As usual, he tried to keep an empty mind for his first lap. He found it helped him to focus on the problem at hand. He allowed himself a shortcut through the trees for a change and his feet crunched on the frosty grass. When he emerged, he found himself in front of the toilet block. The attendant had just unlocked the ladies and was making his way towards the gents. As he ran past, as always they said hello to each other despite the fact that their only contact had been brief chance encounters in the park.

As he reached the halfway mark, he noticed a corpulent lady in front of him. She was jogging in the same direction and he could tell from her gait that she was not having an easy time of it. Sweating profusely despite the chill in the morning air, her breathing was rapid, deep and laboured. He looked at her with some concern as he jogged past, but she smiled dismissively and he pushed her from his mind. When he reached his starting point at the gap of the railings, he took a deep breath and set about his second lap.

His mind turned to the problem in hand; his budget had been cut, so one of his team had to go. There must be a solution, he just had to work it out. Playing out multiple scenarios in his head, he found himself negating each one in turn as he found some fault or another. Up ahead, he could see a baseball capped dog walker leading a scruffy mongrel on a studded lead. As he did so, the dog arched his back and proceeded to defecate in the middle of the path. He just knew as he jogged past that the youth had no intention of disposing of the dog’s waste and he shot him a filthy look.

Around the lake once more and he spied the corpulent lady. She was sitting on the garden bench beside the path. Still puffing, wheezing and sweating, she waved feebly as he jogged past. Past the gap in the railings once more and he noted with frustration that the steaming pile of faeces still sat in the middle of the path. He tutted as he jogged past and wrenched his mind back to the problem in hand. As he rounded the lake again, he could feel the tendrils of his problem knitting themselves into a solution. He had narrowed it down to two. Who should go out of Simpson and Douglas? One more lap should do it.

Yet again, the corpulent lady came into view in front of him. She was jogging once more and her gait had not improved. As he came close behind her, he felt he nearly had the solution in hand but before he could grasp it, the corpulent lady collapsed in front of him. His own problem melted away and he ran to her side. Her breathing was shallow and her skin had a worrying pallor. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he punched in the emergency number and called for an ambulance.

As he finished the call, the lady coughed suddenly and a fleck of blood appeared on her lips. Using his T-shirt, he wiped it away and asked the lady her name. Her lips moved feebly, but nothing came out except raspy breaths. Her eyes seemed glassy and distant as her eyelids sank to half mast. He found himself shouting at her, willing her to breathe. After what seemed like an age, the ambulance arrived and the paramedics took over. They told him that she needed to get to the hospital and asked if he would like to go with her.

Taking his numb lack of response as a yes, they bundled the two of them into the ambulance and took off. The journey was a blur as he watched the paramedic working on the corpulent lady. After a bumpy ride, the ambulance came to an abrupt halt and the doors thrown open. Uniformed figures took her stretcher in one direction and led him in another to a seat. He sat there silently, his mind in absolute turmoil. He hardly knew this woman, yet every fibre of his being wanted her to be OK.

After a time, a younger woman came and sat next to him. To his surprise, she reached over and grasped his hand. “I want to thank you,” she said. He looked at her puzzled as she explained that the lady was her mother and she was eternally grateful for his quick actions. He saw that she was fragile and close to tears. Stretching out, he put his arm around her and pulled her close. She seemed to melt into his embrace as he rubbed her back in comfort. He realised with embarrassment that he was still in his running gear and smelt none too fresh, but she didn’t seem to notice.

His rumbling stomach made him think they were seated for quite some time. As his thoughts turned to food, a man in a white coat stepped over.  The young woman looked up expectantly. The doctor smiled as he broke the news that her mother would be OK. She threw her arms around both of them and whooped with joy.

He arrived at work at lunchtime. His boss pulled off his glasses and stared at him sternly. “You’re late!” he barked. “I hope you have a name for me?”. The man looked down at first, ashamed. But he then whipped his head up defiantly and replied “Yes! I saved a lady’s life this morning, so I can think of better things to do than this – you can have my name!” He turned on his heel and left the office with no intention of returning.

Related articles