...of which there were quite a few this morning. In fact, a quick look outside pointed to the fact that there were slippery slopes, roads, pavements, pathways...it had snowed a bit more in the night!
First things first, it was off on the school run. I was disgusted with the fact that my children’s school wasn’t closed on a sledging day and did inform the headmaster that I expected it to be closed the following day. I kid you not. He remarked favourably about my Ushanka you see, which opened the conversation. Such is life on the Norfolk / Suffolk border.
Next was a coffee at a mate’s studio before returning home via the supermarket, where I filled my stomach with paddling essentials (sausage sandwiches). It’s funny really, all normal routine goes out of the window when released on parole ;D Anyway, figuring I’d had enough presence at home for the day I got suited and booted, went outside and headed for Oulton Broad. I figured I’d have a nice warming paddle and try and pick up a pike or two as strong currents, weed, wind in the wrong direction and a buggered VHF were more than I could be bothered to deal with. And so I set course for the other side of town, spotting wildlife as soon as I arrived at the car park by the Broad...
Enough Attenborough parodies, it was time to get down to the slipway and onto the water.
Bugger.
What the hell was this all about? I wanted to go piking, dammit! The sea has conspired against me since the year began and now this!
I wasn’t getting through that. I wandered about, went for a walk on the ice to test thickness (it was 1-2 inches thick at the slipway, which is where I stayed). I drove around to the quay to take a look there...
To coin a cliché, even the birds were walking. Gulls and ducks were standing around on the ice, made redundant by the weather as was the builder I’d spoken to on the beach a day or two before. I took a couple of quick snaps before putting Plan B into effect.
Plan B was a spur of the moment plan B brought on by desperation. It would become a paddle only, having not brought bait for fishing saltwater. I went the other side of the lock gates and launched into Lake Lothing.
A saltwater ‘estuary’ running up from the harbour mouth I fish this in the summer for bass and gobies. There is plenty to look at as it used to be a hive of industry and although this is long gone there are wrecks, relics and historic boats to be found all around. A fine example of this is LT472, Excelsior. Excelsior is a 1921-built Lowestoft fishing smack and the last sailing trawler that can trawl with traditional equipment. It is dear to many in town and I was happy to get up close to the boat that had nearly run us down at Hopton on my Eastern Meet back in October! As you can see, she looks different without her sails up...
Next up was the wrecks further up towards Mutford Lock. The one on the left I am unsure to the identity of but the right hand one is the MFV yellowtail. This used to be sunk next to the roadbridge and I remember it as a child. I am always struck by the colours, shapes and decay of these wrecks and end up taking plenty of snaps of them...well, if I’m not fishing I may as well do something!
I paddled a round a bit more, snow flurries coming through now and again. Slushy ice had formed around the fringes of the lake and it was quite an interesting paddle. At one point I saw a couple of fish topping although I don’t know what...surely the mullet are not active now? I paddled up to the road bridge, got photographed by a passer-by who questioned my sanity before turning around and heading back, playing a bit by dodging through obstacles. Then I came to another favourite, another historic vessel...MTB 102.
Isn’t she a beauty? I was on the water one night when she came past us, a fantastic sound coming from her engines. I first saw this boat as a child, coming through the New Cut at Haddiscoe around the time of my first airshow at RAF Mildenhall...say around 1982. It belonged to a scout group then.
A very historic boat this. Designed in 1936 by the MD of Vosper and launched in 1937 she was bought by the Admiralty, becoming MTB102, the first of the modern MTB’s. Crewed by 2 Officers and 8 Men, she saw service throughout the war, being the third from last boat off the beaches at Dunkerque (having crossed the Channel 8 times and becoming the flagship for Operation Dynamo as it was called). Interestingly, she was involved in the return of Allied Forces to France some four years later too, in a roundabout way. It was MTB 102 that carried Churchill and Eisenhower as they reviewed the ships for the D-Day invasions. Refurbished for ‘The Eagle Has Landed’, she is thought to be the last remaining Royal Navy ship still afloat that was present at Dunkerque. I think she looks nice too.
I paddled around some more and came across a bored bird.
I got bored too and on arrival back at the launch point decided to mess around under jetties before heading home to grab my Yakboard...
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