weather

Tuesday Tale – Raining

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 23 Comments

For a brief moment it had stopped raining so Noah called Rufus and they set off for their usual walk down to the estuary while the tide was low. It was a new routine since the endless rain this winter. No one had ever seen the river running so high and most had abandoned the popular footpaths which were either too muddy or had disappeared completely. But Rufus was a big young dog who loved the water and had a lot of energy to burn up. Noah had assured Sally that their dog’s acute senses would keep them both safe. He wasn’t exactly sure if this was true; Rufus could well abandon caution and his master if he spotted a lost seal washed in.

There was a bigger surprise for them both. On the narrow strip of shore revealed by the low tide was a beached boat, a very large boat. Noah had always wanted his own boat, but Sally was not keen and his bank account was even less keen. Could his boyhood dream have come true? It was hardly a dream boat, lying on its side looking very sorry. The dog was rushing round it, nose in the sand, tail wagging. It occurred to Noah it could be a ship wreck with bodies on board. A closer look revealed no holes or signs of major damage. More likely it had slipped it’s mooring from some distance away, no boats like that around here. He ran his hand over the bow, good solid wood, very old wood. Could this be an antique boat? Noah decided to climb inside, not an easy task with slippery wood at that angle, especially after his recent knee replacement. He clambered over and slid down the deck, landing on the side of the wheelhouse. He stayed on his wheelhouse perch to survey the deck, which was as seaweed clad as a rockpool. The funnel was still in place, the top resting in the sand below where the tide was creeping back in. The mast had snapped leaving only a jagged stump. The boat was longer than he had supposed when he stood beneath the hull. Perhaps it had been a coastal steamer similar to those his grandfather used to describe, taking supplies all round the coast, the family living on board. What fun that had seemed to young Noah and it could still be fun.

This was a vessel that deserved to be rescued and restored, returned to its former glory, then he could take Sally on the cruises she dreamt of. The water around them was becoming more turbulent as the river in full spate met the incoming tide. A rescue was needed right now, restoring it could be planned later. Rufus would not be much help with that, he was barking anxiously for Noah to get back down on the beach.

There was no point in having three robust sons if you did not summon them for an important mission. Simon first, he worked at the boat yard as a general dogsbody, but he drove trucks and trailers bringing boats in to be repaired and launching them back out to sea. Could his bad tempered boss be persuaded to give space in his yard next to those posh yachts and respectable working fishing boats?

‘Dad, how on earth do you think we can get that on a trailer?’

‘Wait till Ben arrives.’

‘You think his gangmaster is going to let him off the building site with his expensive machinery?’

‘He is not a gangmaster, I play darts with him.’

‘The tide is coming in, can’t we wait and see if it floats the boat?’

‘And floats it away?’

Noah looked around nervously, there was more than the tide to worry about. Nosey people calling whatever authorities would be interested. Noah had no idea how he stood legally, lucky his third son was a lawyer.

Sally cooked a big dinner that night, delighted to have all three sons at home for a meal. Noah had promised to explain everything when they were all sat down properly, showered and warmed up after their epic day.

‘You rescued what!? Why?  It’s not the Mary Rose.’

‘The Mary Rose is not restored, it can’t sail, our boat will go to sea again.’

Tim the lawyer had been trying to speak.

‘Haven’t you lot been listening to the news, we have more to worry about than your ship wreck. Your house is probably going to be flooded, the council wants everyone to start making evacuation plans.’

‘Not us surely’ said Sally.

‘Yes I have seen the plans, you are getting nearer and nearer to the river and it’s getting worse upstream. I thought that’s why you called me round this evening, to help you pack. I’ve booked a space at ‘Storealot’.

‘That awful fluorescent orange building on top of the hill?’

‘Yes Mother and very grateful you will be to have your stuff safe in there.’

‘But where will we go, we’re not staying in your tiny flat…’

Tim looked relieved.

‘…and we certainly can’t stay in Simon’s caravan.’

Simon looked relieved.

‘And there’s no room at Becky’s parents’ Ben added hastily.

‘That’s why you have to be registered now, you can get on the priority list as you’re vulnerable.’

‘I’m not bloody vulnerable’ Noah spoke for the first time.

‘You just had a knee replacement.’

‘And I’ve just rescued a steamer, a boat that we can use when the flood comes’  he slapped the table. ‘Of course, the boat is a heavenly message. At least we won’t have to build it, worry about cubits… ‘

Tim laughed, they all laughed.

‘They laughed at my namesake, then they all wanted to get on board when it didn’t stop raining. Tim and your mother can pack up the house, get a hotel booked before everyone else does, me, Simon and Ben, straight down the yard in the morning, get that deck scrubbed. The accommodation down below is surprisingly roomy from what I could see. All of us could fit in for forty days, or whatever…’

‘What do you mean all of us?’

‘Wel, just in case the whole world gets flooded again.’

‘It wasn’t the whole world last time Dad, just a bit of the Middle East.’

‘If I’m wrong we will have had a nice cruise like you mother wanted.’

‘Becky won’t want to leave her parents behind.’

‘We have to be ruthless, we need young women, not oldies, except to steer the boat, you two better hurry up and get yourselves girlfriends. ‘

‘I have got one,’ said Simon ‘but she wants a city break to Paris, flying, not in a tug boat.’

‘I won’t be going,’ said Tim ‘Lawrence and I will not be much use to repopulate the planet.’

‘What about Rufus.’

‘No,’ said Simon ‘we’ll need animals we can eat.’

The Ark restoration attracted plenty of attention and despite the laughter of the other boat owners, Noah noticed a lot of activity around posh yachts that normally stayed in the yard till spring. Food stores and suitcases were being sneaked in.

It was amazing how many things you could get on Amazon thought Noah, hammocks, sleeping bags, astronauts’ ready meals, a motor and navigation instruments. Tim had been right, their house was soon under water. Locals were blaming the council. Noah waited till high tide was at night so they could slip away quietly… He would love to see everyone’s faces in the morning.

Silly Saturday – Random Ramblings

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 21 Comments

2025 has slipped down over the horizon and a quarter of a century has gone by.

Christmas is wound up – how many metres of lights on this reel? Answers at the end.

Time to blow the cobwebs away and head into 2026.

An alien or a jellyfish? Answer below.

Where are you if you have this view?

Who are you waiting for?

Whose garden shed?

Can you give a home to an unwanted Christmas soldier?

ANSWERS – NOT NECESARILY IN THE RIGHT ORDER

An ice plate, Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, 75 metres, the garden centre’s, Regent Centre Christchurch

Are you ready for the next quarter of a century?

Silly Sunday – sELFies

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 35 Comments

He’s Back!

When you get carried away with your Christmas lights…

A Heavenly message ?

Or a Harbinger of Doom?

It’s raining here, but thanks to digital magic here is my favourite brightest Christmas tree from Australia.

Don’t know how I managed that, the bottom 12 % must be really rubbish! Minutes spent includes being distracted, playing with your phone, answering the doorbell and falling asleep – discovering the next morning you are still in the middle of a lesson.

And finally – Home of the Week

Have you got any elves on your shelves?

What décor do you favour for your home?

Silly Sunday Serial – SOS

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 18 Comments

This is the fourth and final part of Flora and Jim’s story, you can see yesterday’s part here.

https://tidalscribe.com/2025/10/18/silly-saturday-serial-singing-in-the-rain/

Clarissa was having a wonderful evening. At last, as a volunteer with Seven Valley Community Support, she was getting to do something exciting and useful. With power lines down, the community centre was lit with candles and battery torches. Computers were down and all they had were clipboards and pen and paper. Clarissa was in charge of the list, or registering unhoused arrivals as she put it. Her excitement grew when a young policeman pushed his way through the throng.

‘Has anybody been reported missing yet?’

‘No, all accounted for.’

‘Not so apparently, the station got a frantic call from a mother who said she had not heard from her daughter and she is not answering her mobile. She just moved into that cottage by the river, umm Little Nile?’

‘Oh goodness, surely no one is living there after what happened last year? The name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The daughter.’

‘Oh yes, of course. Flora Dora.’

‘Are you sure? Obviously not from around here then. Anyone else living there?’

‘Her boyfriend, Jim James.’

Clarissa clapped her hands to gain attention, unsuccessfully. The police officer moved in front of her, glad of the chance to assert his authority and put on his crowd control voice.

‘Urgent, we need to know if we have a Flora Dora and a Jim James here.’

There was no response.

‘They just moved into Little Nile cottage.’

There was a collective gasp and urgent mutterings.

‘They’ll be gonners by now.’

‘Yup, cottage submerged completely.’

‘Even if they got out the river will have taken them.’

The policeman moved among them trying to get any useful information.

‘They would have heard the alerts and the red warnings.’

‘Not unless they have registered for Seven Flood Alert or got the app.’

‘Slim chance they might have made it up to the road, but that’s blocked off.’

‘The army,’ called Clarissa ‘my nephew’s out there on a training exercise with the Ukrainians.’

‘Training them?’

‘No, the Ukrainians are training our lot, they can drive tanks in the most awful conditions.’

Flora and Jim had started walking along the road, best case scenario they would meet a vehicle. Worst case scenario they would have to keep walking till they came to a house or the town. Neither of them mentioned the actual Worst Case Scenario, not that they could hear a word they said to each other, nor could they read each other’s expressions. All they could hear or see was the relentless rain. Perhaps it was fortunate they had to keep their thoughts to themselves, cosy memories of their parents’ boring little suburban houses…

It was so dark now, no street lights, not even any distant lights. There was no distance so they did not see the solid darkness looming out of the general darkness and barely heard the shouts. When they were blinded by a bright beam they had no chance of seeing anything.

‘Are you lost?’

‘Of course they’re lost corporal, not out for an evening stroll and get that torch out of their eyes.’

‘Soldiers’ stammered Flora through chartering teeth ‘are we on the firing range?’

‘No, but you must have a death wish, didn’t you heed the warnings? Names?’

They tried to say their names, but their frozen mouths did not seem to work. The soldiers got close and yelled ‘Are you Flora Dora and Jim James?’

They nodded vigorously.

‘The whole of the British army is out looking for you and half the Ukrainian army to boot.’

At the community centre Clarissa took charge of the new arrivals, she was not going to be upstaged.

‘Priority registration, have they got any rooms left at Premiere Inn, how’s the hot food coming along, we need two survivor kits over here right now, one men’s one ladie’s.’

She felt just like the United Nations or Medecine Sans Frontieres, though the survivor packs merely contained donated second hand clothes.

Flora and Jim soon became celebrities.

‘A good way to get to know the locals’ laughed Flora, almost restored to her normal self with hot chocolate.

‘And a free night at Premiere Inn hopefully’ added Jim.

‘Well your cottage will still be there, it’s withstood centuries of floods, though they are getting worse.’

‘Yup, it should be dried out by next August‘ added another local.

THE END

You can read the complete story tomorrow.

Silly Saturday Serial – Singing in the Rain

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 15 Comments

This is part three of Tuesday’s Tiny Tale. You can see part two in Thursday’s Tinier Tale.

https://tidalscribe.com/2025/10/16/thursday-tinier-tale-a-drop-of-rain/

Flora and Jim had reached a high point in the valley and looked down to see just a glimpse of the red roof of their cottage. The rain was even heavier, if that was possible. They could hardly see the screens of their phones to check if they had any signal or any text messages.

‘It’s certainly exhilarating up here’ said Jim.

‘And so quiet, we haven’t seen a soul’ Flora struggled to make her voice heard above the wind and rain.

‘No one else is mad enough to come out in this rain. I think we’ll have to try our phones tomorrow when the weather has cleared. Best thing we can do is go back and get that fire lit.’

‘Whaaat, I can’t hear you.’

Jim signed to Flora to head back down the narrow steep track, clinging to her as he nearly slipped. The foot path had turned into a muddy stream, but they were still in good spirits enjoying their adventure. The sound of rushing water guided them back to the river, though it was hard to recognise how far they were from their cottage as they were on a part of the river that had no path beside it. Talking was impossible with the wind and rushing water and they could not see the river properly with the rain driving in their faces. The white shape of the cottage suddenly loomed out of the gloom, nearer to the river than they recalled.

‘Have you got the key Flora?’ Jim yelled.

‘No you put it in your anorak pocket.’

Flora paddled through puddles to grab at the front door in the hope they had forgotten to lock it, then remembered putting the key in her back pack. She could hardly undo the zip with her cold wet hands.

‘Unlock the door while I start fetching the wood.’

Jim slithered round the corner to where logs were stacked against the wall and was disconcerted to see water pouring down the hillside and swirling round the bottom of the wood pile. He thought of the cosy pub in the nearest town where they had enjoyed a hearty meal after first viewing the cottage. The best thing they could do was walk along the river the other way and take the gravel track that led up to the road and the bus stop. Was it quarter to or quarter past the hour that the hourly bus came along? Well they could always hitch hike.

The rain showed no sign of easing up and they were glad to get to the road.

‘Oh that’s funny, wonder why they have barriers across the road?’

‘Jim, it will be getting dark soon.’

‘When a car comes along it will have to stop at the barrier and we can ask for a lift.’

At Upper Seven Valley police station the late shift were coordinating with the fire brigade and the Coastguard and RAF. It was turning out to be an even worse evening than with last year’s flood.

‘As far as we know most locals heeded the red weather warnings, they are checking names at the community centre now. We can’t account for any visitors staying or hiking in the area. The coastguard helicopter was only flying for fifteen minutes before it was grounded at 17.00 hours due to dangerous flying conditions. With the poor visibility they could not be certain there were no persons clinging to roofs or needing rescuing. We got the road blocks up early, so there should be no vehicles in the flood area.’

Thursday Tinier Tale – A Drop of Rain

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 13 Comments

Tonight’s tale follows on from Tuesday’s Tiny Tale

https://tidalscribe.com/2025/10/14/tuesday-tiny-tale-the-writing-on-the-wall

Rain lashed the windows of their little cottage, but Flora and Jim did not mind.

‘It’s lovely being all cosy inside. What weather does your phone say Jim?’

‘Still no reception, but I don’t need to look at my phone to see what the weather is.’

‘No weather forecast, but it is rather liberating not having a television. Dad says we can have his old laptop to stream stuff.’

‘Once we’re on the internet. In the meantime we can go exploring and find a spot where we can get reception, just in case of emergency.’

‘I can’t imagine us having any emergencies, except not being able to order pizza!’

‘Come on, walking in the rain will be fun and when we get back I’ll have a go at lighting the fire.’

‘Great idea, but won’t the firewood have got wet in the rain?’

‘I’ll just pull logs out from the bottom of the pile, like Jenga.’

‘Looks like a real river now Flora, don’t get too near the edge, it must be at least two foot deep, ha ha. Let’s see how far along the river this little path goes.’

At Upper Seven Valley police station the late shift were coming on duty.

‘There is an amber alert coming into force at 15.00.’

‘Not like last year surely Sir, not after the dry summer we’ve had.’

‘We’re not taking any chances after what happened last year.’

‘At least the survivors moved out of that cottage down in the valley, can’t imagine they would have managed to sell it.’

‘Well it’s still standing, we hiked that way in the summer.’

‘Why are you playing with your phone Evans?’

‘Just looking it up on Rightmove Sir… Believe it or not it was bought last month, knock down price.’

‘Let’s hope they have been following the weather reports then. Right, we have got other problems to sort out in town, so let’s hope this rain eases off.’

Friday Fun – Beach Hut Life

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 39 Comments

How you imagine Beach Hut Life.

It’s better with the sound effects of howling wind – when you realise you might not be going for a swim today…

Don’t lean on the fence to look over…

WHOOPS…

But the sun is still shining…

…and you can have a paddle.

Smooth sand and rough sea

Perfect weather for some…

We had an evening photography club shoot at my beach hut and were lucky enough to see the mythical White Goat.

And a treasure hunter who was obviously looking in the wrong spot for a pot of gold.

What are you preferred beach activities?