Photo101: Solitude & The Rule of Thirds

Today dawned bright, crisp, slightly frosty and very sunny. Just the weather for getting out on two wheels in search of today’s assignment.

As I bowled along on Harls enjoying the lovely morning it did occur to me that this was the perfect embodiment of Solitude, at least for me! The trouble is that to capture that moment in a decent photograph would be I feel nearly impossible.

Now worries though, I was heading for one of my special little spots where solitude comes easily.

This is the young River Fowey high on Bodmin Moor and not very far from it’s source. I love sitting here on the river bank just taking in the total serenity of the place. Small trout and salmon dart in the quick clear water, Dippers busily search along the pebbles and if you are blessed, the bright turquoise flash of a Kingfisher may catch your eye. You have to sit still for hours though to spot an otter, but they are here!

My place of Solitude: River Fowey on Bodmin Moor

My place of Solitude: River Fowey on Bodmin Moor

Yes you can sit in solitude, but at the same time you have to share that place with the real local inhabitants.

Dookes

PS Fowey is pronounced “Foy.”

Photo101: Water

When I saw today’s assignment I had a great idea, but unfortunately Mother Nature had other plans.

Last night a severe gale blew in from the Atlantic with winds gusting to over 80 miles per hour, my gentle stroll along a North Cornwall beach turned into a trial of endurance and for the first time in my life I was blown off my feet, several times!

Now please, before the “Laughter Police” are called, I wasn’t ever putting myself in danger or in need of rescue by others, I stayed well back from the sea and checked the tides before I ventured out. This also meant that I didn’t get as close to the surf as I planned for the original idea, but I got a few reasonable shots that I hope you enjoy.

As an aside, the lens got so thoroughly coated with salt in the strong north wind, that I was reduced to licking it to keep it clear, yeck!

Anyway here are the photos!
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P1050223

P1050238This last shot looks so benign and peaceful, it wasn’t, I just wish it had sound so you could hear the wind howling!

I hope that these are watery enough for everyone!

All taken today on the beach at Crackington Haven in North Cornwall; 50.7445N, 4.6377W.

Catch you all soon.

Dookes

Street

Blogging University Photo101, Day Two.

Here we go then, today’s assignment is just one word again, this time “Street.”
I hope you enjoy my interpretation.

I currently trapped at Dookes H.Q. waiting for the boiler engineer to arrive to service our central heating, so no time to pop out and find something exotic! I’ve made do with the lane outside our cottage, which this morning is lightly bathed in gentle Cornish drizzle, though the daffodils certainly lift the scene.

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As you can see, this street is quite bucolic and in a few weeks time when the trees will be covered in leaves it’s almost a green tunnel.

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Hunting The Cornish Pasty

Gool Piran Lowen!

Or if you don’t speak Cornish, Happy St Piran’s Day!

I’ve blogged previously about St Piran’s Day and if you would like to read it about again just click here.

St Piran’s Day is very special in the lives of Cornish Folk, not only does today celebrate one of Cornwall’s adopted Saints, but probably more importantly it signifies the start of the Pasty Hunting Season! The previous season having closed at midnight on the 4th of March.

So what is a pasty, the legendary foodstuff of Cornish people since time immemorial?

Some say that they were most frequently found around the tin mines for which the County is famous.
Others swear that the natural habitat of the true Cornish Pasty is near the old fishing ports and harbours that provide haven around Cornwall’s rugged coast from the wild Atlantic.
There are also those who claim that the finest Cornish Pasty is native to the wild uplands of Bodmin Moor, where the steep slopes give them stamina and the wild heather adds depth to their flavour!

Mindful that the Pasty Hunting Season was to end at midnight last night and not start again until the first minute of today, myself and a group of friends, who unlike me are true Cornishmen, set out yesterday to bag ourselves a few fresh pasties.

It was a hard day, the true Cornish Pasty is an elusive creature and only found west of the River Tamar in the Duchy of Cornwall. Those that know where to find the finest Pasty are often hesitant to divulge their knowledge and when asked will often just say “tiz best to find your own.” It is also a curious thing though how Cornish Folk can never really agree just what makes the best Pasty. Some like the flavour to be mild, others like a hint of pepper, whilst the arguments about whether it should be very juicy or more dry can often lead to insults being traded over a pint of cider! Don’t even mention how the crust should be after cooking. . . !

As to how to capture the elusive creature, well I won’t go into the sordid details, but lets just say that the more humane the despatch the better the flavour on the plate!

Here then is the evidence that yesterday’s hunt was completely successful and no I’m not telling you where we (shot) caught this one, as you can see though it looks like someone had two goes at it, judging by the wounds.P1050142
So there is our freshly cooked Cornish Pasty lying on the flag Of St Piran and the story above is of course, nonsense, but not so the humble, nay great, Cornish Pasty!

The traditional Cornish Pasty is a baked pastry which since 2011 has enjoyed Protected Geographical Indication status within the European Union. A real Cornish Pasty must only contain beef (normally skirt steak) sliced or diced potato, swede (which confusingly in Cornwall is called turnip, often pronounced “turmut”!) and onion, oh yes and salt and pepper. DSC_0149The filling is encased within pastry, folded over the filling then hand crimped along one edge forming a “D” shape. The crimp must not under any circumstances be along the top in a Cornish Pasty! The pasty should turn golden when baked and retain its distinctive shape hot or cold.DSC_0138

Where exactly the humble pasty first originated is open to much speculation, although its links with Cornwall are strong there is evidence that it may, just may, have first been baked in France, but we’ll leave that to history!

In Cornwall the pasty is associated with the strenuous lives of miners and fisherfolk, jobs that needed substantial food to keep you going. Tradition also tells us that a part sweet, part savoury pasty was often the norm in days gone by, the theory being that a meal of main course and sweet were contained in opposite ends of the one pastry case, very clever!

In the metal mines of Cornwall and Devon the miners were noted to eat their pasty whilst holding the crimped edge, which was then discarded, so to minimise the amount of poisonous minerals that would be ingested. Legend has it that the discarded pieces of crust were left for the “Knockers,” small spirit folk that created a tapping sound to warn of dangers such as an impending tunnel collapse.

Today the simple Cornish Pasty is big business. Locally often called an “Oggy” the simple pasty is looked on as Cornwall’s “National” dish and accounts for over 6% of the Cornish food economy. Pasty bakers in Cornwall do either very well or die. It’s no use making an O.K. pasty round these parts, there are plenty of shops selling absolutely fantastic ones and everyone has their favourite. I once had an office where in the radius of a ten minute walk there were five different shops each selling their own ‘made on the premises’ pasty; each one was subtly different, yet each one was equally superb!
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My all time favourite? Well, I’m not going to name names, but it’s right at the other end of the county, 65 miles away on the quay in Hayle and it’s worth the ride down there any time!

Guess what I’m having for lunch today? Yes, you’ve got it, that wild Cornish Pasty that we caught last night!

Here’s to St Piran, who probably never ate one, and here’s to Cornwall and the Cornish Pasty!

“Oggy Oggy Oggy, Oi Oi Oi!”

Catch you all soon. 🙂

Dookes

PS Yes I know there are also Pasties made all over the world nowadays and if you check it out, it was often Cornish miners who first imported them!

Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Hapus, Happy Saint David’s Day.

Bore da pawb. Heddiw yw Dydd Gŵyl Dewi, y Diwrnod Cenedlaethol Cymru. Dymuniadau gorau i chi i gyd!

Good morning everyone. Today is Saint David’s Day, the National Day of Wales. Best wishes to you all!

The weather here in Cornwall is miserable; swirling rain and hill mist swathe the scenery around Dookes H.Q.. . .In fact it’s just like being home in Wales!

Never mind though, outside the daffodils are in flower and with a freshly picked bunch on the table next to me, its like the sun has come out.P1050125
OK, brief history lesson then:
Dewi Sant/St David was born towards the end of the 5th Century in the region of West Wales known as Ceredigion. Whilst alive he built a reputation for his preaching, teaching and simple living amongst the Celtic people. He founded a monastery at Glyn Rhosin, which became an important early Christian centre. Dewi died on 1st March 589 and was buried in what is now known as St David’s Cathedral in Pembrokeshire where his shrine became a popular place of pilgrimage.

For centuries 1st March has been a national festival in Wales with parades, concerts, poetry readings and of course traditional food all being enjoyed. Around the country not only will you see the flag of Wales, Y Ddraig Goch (the Red Dragon) being flown, but also the flag of St David, a simple yellow cross on a black field.P1030045

Today is also the time when Welsh exiles around the world remember ‘The Land of My Fathers’ and try to ease the sense of “Hiraeth” that yearning homesickness tinged with grief, nostalgia, wistfulness and pride that we often feel.

On that note, I’m off to gather the food for supper tonight. Golwythi cig oen, cennin â chaws, tatws a bara lawr: lamb chops, leek gratin, potatoes and laverbread.

If Mrs Dookes is lucky I may even sing a few verses of Calon Lân as well!

In the words of St David:
“Gwnewch y pethau bychain mean bywyd.” “Do ye the little things in life.”

Gwlad, gwlad, pleidiol wyf i’m glad.

Hwyl fawr!
Dookes

Dreams of The Sun

OK lets face it, mild, wet winters are, as a good friend of mine says, rubbish!

It’s not like you can get out and enjoy the crispness of a beautiful frosty day or have fun fooling around in the snow, no, everything is wet, slippery and squishy! Walking around the grounds Dookes H.Q. is like taking on the mud of the Western Front, trying to do the winter garden maintenance is becoming very, well, trying!

We’ve got a quite few trees that need serious pruning and in a couple of cases felling. I’ve managed to tackle some of the work, but the underfoot conditions are certainly limiting productivity. It’s enough to drive you to tears. Talking of which, take a look at this photo of the end of a branch that I cut off a large pine tree, I swear that the tree is shedding a tear!  Can you see it?IMG_1040

Anyway, enough of this moaning stuff!

At least with no ice on the roads I have been out and about quite a lot on two wheels and I’m pleased to report the effectiveness of my gear at keeping out the water! I’ve banged on previously about how important quality protective equipment is on a motorbike, it’s certainly something I never skimp on and I feel that approach repays me many times over.

I also believe in good training and as regular blogonaughts may recall, I am qualified as an “Advanced” motorcyclist. One of the great things, or maybe not, about this is that every few years I have to go through an “Assessment Ride,” with a qualified examiner, just to check that I’m up to standard and behaving myself! Now the great thing about riding with my mate ‘G’ is that he’s a qualified Police trained advanced instructor and is great at giving constructive feedback, even so, when I had to do my assessment the other week I was still a little nervous and that’s probably no bad thing.

The weather was, predictably awful; strong winds, driving rain, the odd bit of hail and part way through a burst of bright sunshine that shone straight in my face and reflected off the road like a laser beam! Oh yeah, then more rain!

Because I wanted to feel really comfortable I took ‘Harls,’ yes I know ‘Baby’ has better fairing protection, but she’s big and heavy and ‘Harls’ fits me like a glove, I wanted to concentrate on the ride and not the bike! “Baby” and I have done quite a few thousand miles in the ten months that I’ve owned her, but nothing like the tens of thousands that “Harls” and I have shared!

Two sexy wheels!

Two sexy wheels!

The ride took in a variety of different roads and traffic levels, all fiendishly structured to put me through my paces and check out different facets of my riding. I didn’t know where we were going and had to watch out for my examiners traffic signals in my rear-view mirror to tell me which way to go, just an additional little pressure!

Anyway all went well and sixty or so miles later my examiner was happy to sign me off as still competent. ‘G’ says that he would have kicked my backside if not!!! Even better, no rain leaked into any of my riding clothing or helmet, happiness all round!

There’ll be even more happiness when the better weather arrives, but in the meantime I’ll content myself with pictures of warmer days and get on with planning the next few trips!

Île de Ré Salt Lagoons

Île de Ré Salt Lagoons

Catch you all soon!

“Go forth and have no fear, come close and lend an ear.”

Dooks

Ghost Hunting

Since returning from Brittany, life seems to have taken a slightly hectic turn, but needless to say I haven’t let that get in the way of enjoying my bikes on a series of nice little rides!

Most of the UK has been blessed with an early autumn of stunningly beautiful weather and our little corner has been well within the sunshine zone, so it was only right to give both bikes a breath of fresh air. First up a quick blast across Bodmin Moor on Harls! As always it was great to be on two wheels, even better on a bike that I absolutely adore riding. It’s funny, but since I bought the new Ultra Limited I somehow appreciate my old Harls even more than ever. Her staccato exhaust, open riding position and laid-back style may not be to everyone’s taste, but I love her! Sure she’s not as hi-tech as her new stable mate, could do with another top gear and better brakes, but she has character and personality in abundance. They can bury me sitting on that bike! P1040943

One morning recently I had to do some business in Bodmin, one of our local towns, and after that was concluded the whole day was begging not to be wasted. With a mind to getting out on the open road I took “Baby Harls,” my Ultra Limited and had one of those lovely moments as I pondered, “Now, where shall we go?”

The sky looked a deeper shade of blue towards the East, so we hit the A38 trunk road and headed across the River Tamar.

Now at this point I must confess that the two main trunk roads out of Cornwall, the A30 and A38, are best described as “tedious.” Sure, they get you to where you want to go reasonably quickly and actually both cover some pretty scenery, but that’s it. They can both get snarled up with traffic at times and also seem to attract more than their fair share of really bad drivers, but no I’m not about to launch into a Dookes rant, so lets just leave it there!

After cruising about sixty miles we turned off the ’38 and passed through the old market town and tidal port of Totnes. Feeling a “heritage” moment coming on, I followed the signs towards the small village of Berry Pomeroy and it’s romantic, though magnificently ruined castle.

Once a medieval castle and later a sumptuous Elizabethan mansion, Berry was the home of the Seymour and Pomeroy families. The remains lie in a beautiful woodland setting and have the reputation of being one of the most haunted castles in England; I just had to go see for myself!

What I found I pretty much fell in love with straight away.

The Gatehouse.

The Gatehouse.

The original castle dates from the 1400’s, but by 1560 the owning Seymour family began a re-construction odyssey that was to last nearly 100 years and would never be completed. Sadly, much of the finest building work was dismantled in the Eighteenth Century, but plenty remains to show just how grand the place must have been in it’s heyday.

The Elizabethan House

The Elizabethan House

Today the castle is in the custodianship of English Heritage and open to the public, but still belongs to the descendants of the original owners. To find out more about it you can follow the link here.

I think I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

The East Range 1600-10.

The East Range 1600-10.

Inside the Elizabethan Ruins.

Inside the Elizabethan Ruins.

The Elizabethan House From The Great Hall.

The Elizabethan House From The Great Hall.

The Curtain Wall and St Margaret's Tower.

The Curtain Wall and St Margaret’s Tower.

Leaving Berry Pomeroy and not having spotted any ghosts, we headed North to Ashburton and set off across Dartmoor, this was turning into a very self-indulgent day!

The road across the moor initially starts by back tracking the River Dart through its narrow valley and deep woodland. This road was one of the first that I rode my new “Baby” on earlier in the year and brought back many happy memories.

Early Spring on the River Dart.

Early Spring on the River Dart.

It was early spring then and now the seasons have moved on, autumn is getting well into her lovely stride. The woods held the unmistakable smell of resinous falling leaves, something that to me embodies this time of year. On the high moor the summer bracken has tuned the same red as the wild native ponies and grass is beginning to take on a slightly yellow hue as it’s feed value diminishes.P1040994 There are hard cold days ahead and this country can be very hard indeed, though at the same time stunningly beautiful.P1050001

It makes you appreciate how good it is to be alive and enjoying it!P1040999

“It ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive.”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

A House Call

As I’ve reported previously, my Welsh mate G is currently undergoing chemotherapy in his fight against leukaemia. Just lately he’s been in and out of hospital quite a lot with a series of blood transfusions and tests.

Being the optimistic little sod that he is, this is not such a bad thing; you see the Rugby World Cup is currently underway and as England are the hosts, all of the games are being screened on television. So a spell in hospital = an opportunity to watch rugby, great!

But, it ain’t all that great.

The whole cancer thing is shit; if you excuse me being so basal.

G was at home the other day, his family were going out and rugby was going to be on the television. Hey, a friend has got to do what friends do best; I bought the sausages and Greg cooked lunch! Well Ok, I did have a super 50 mile ride over to his place too! I took Harls, I needed her rawness, simplicity and noise.
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The ride was lovely; it was one of those mornings when the diffused sunlight gives the world an ethereal feel, all cosy and comforting, if a tad on the cool side with the first chill of autumn.

Greg lives in Devon, the neighbouring county to Cornwall where Dookes H.Q. is based. It’s one of the wonderful things about geography, the two counties are separated by one river, the Tamar, but in many ways couldn’t be more different. Cornwall reflects its hard rock granite foundations and tends to be a bit craggy and sharp; whilst Devon mostly sits on softer Old Red Sandstone making for a more rolling landscape that is very easy on the eye. P1050009

We had a great afternoon together. He may be unwell, but his cooking is as good as ever. We laughed a lot, the rugby was entertaining, we watched videos of motorcycle road trips and did loads of planning for future trips when Greg is well again. It’s looking like most of Europe and Scandinavia won’t be safe once we get going!

Riding home I had time to reflect on the true value of friendship. To me it’s not like family, with real friends its much deeper than that. I’ve had too many family members really hurt me over the years, but my friends never have. Sure we’ve pissed each other off on occasions, but with true friends you can tell each other why and how, then move on. Greg and I have shared many experiences over the years and I aim to share many more with him in future.

The rumble of Harl’s exhaust as we rode home into the setting evening sun was comforting. Yes, perhaps I was going a tad fast at times, but I felt vibrantly alive. This compulsory getting older thing is a bit of a bummer; growing up is, in my book, still optional!

“Summers going fast, 
nights growing colder. 

Children growing up
, old friends growing older.


Freeze this moment a little bit longer
, make each sensation a little bit stronger.”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Friends; In Need, Indeed.

Its been a strange few months in the world of Dookes.

First up and with the support of Mrs Dookes I decided to jack in the rat race, calm down and retire early. It’s big tick in the box for that one, but I’ll be honest it’s still taking a bit of getting used to! So much so that I’ve found something to keep me out of mischief for a few days a week . . . more details of that in a future post though! Yeah, I’m a tease.

Then, just as I was getting used to life changes I got the news about my mate G, or Greg as you all now know him.

I’ll be honest, the situation that G has found himself in has hit me sideways and in a way that I would never have thought possible. I really get what he wrote about dealing with the realisation of a cancer diagnosis, in his words; “Or one of my friends…

I can handle it, it’s me…. A strange one but as it’s me it makes it bearable.”

He had his first dose of Chemotherapy on Wednesday and late in the afternoon I received a text message from him to let me know how he’d got on. We played message ping-pong for a few minutes each response getting a bit sillier! At the time I was sitting on a cliff high above the Atlantic rollers on the North Cornwall coast. G’s ever optimistic messages both heartened me and humbled me at the same time. Looking West, the approaching sunset and majestic clouds lifted my spirits as I worried for my friend and at the same time felt so utterly helpless.P1040839

The evening before I had enjoyed a wonderful ride with an other dear friend, Vifferman. In fact, as regular blogonaughts may recall, Viff is my oldest friend we go back over 50 years.

Viff understood that I needed a bit of support and a good thrash on two wheels followed by fish and chips by the sea in Bude was an excellent antidote for the “feeling hopelessly useless” blues! Thanks Viff.P1040811OK, its a Honda, buts it’s Vifferman’s Honda!

Anyway, the point is that as usual Vifferman gets it and this time he could see that I was a bit “Wobbly.” It’s probably a culmination of lots of things that has made this a pretty emotional summer, but the main thing is how the friends network is working and supporting each other, which is just great.

No really surprising that it all largely revolves around two wheels either!

“At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines.”

Catch you all soon,

Dookes

PS Special thanks to Mrs Dookes, Alba, Curtis, Bones, Ginamarie, John and many others for being there too, you all mean the world to me!

Land of History

There are occasions when, as I ride around the Cornish countryside, I am frequently in awe of the rich history that is cradled in this small part of the world.

In recent posts I have travelled back to the times of legend and the Bronze Age. Let’s “shoot” forward a few years, drop in on the times of Henry the Eighth then fast forward to the Twentieth Century and do that all in one place and what a place it is! This is Pendennis Castle.

Perched atop a rocky headland that juts out into the open sea close to the historic town of Falmouth on Cornwall’s southern coast, the imposing fortress of Pendennis protects the sheltered mouth of the River Fal and the deep water anchorage of Carrick Roads. Over 400 years ago work began on this great fortification by order of King Henry VIII; by the 1540’s the elegant gun tower was built followed in 1600 by the ramparts which today still define the perimeter of the site.

PENDENNIS CASTLE Aerial view of the castle looking North West

Aerial view of the castle looking North West


The castle played an active role in the nation’s defence until the 1950’s, since then Pendennis has been treasured and conserved as a site of great historical importance. It is open to the public all year round, (weekends only during the winter) and should be on the “to do” list of any visit to Cornwall.

A couple of weeks ago I was lucky to be invited to visit by the staff of English Heritage, who are the custodians of the castle. Passing through the massive gatehouse on my new Ultra Limited was a thrilling and privileged experience, I must confess to wonder if this was the first time a Harley Davidson has entered the castle in its long history?

Royal Garrison Artillery barracks.

Royal Garrison Artillery barracks.


The first imposing building that greets visitors dates from 1902, it was the regimental headquarters and barrack block of the 105th Regiment Royal Garrison Artillery. The building is fronted by a parade ground where it is easy to almost hear the historical echoes of soldiers marching and the gravel crunching under their boots. The barracks today houses various displays showing facets of life in the British Army throughout he ages, at present there is a super exhibition to mark the centenary of World War One and is well worth a look.

Central to the inner bastion is Henry VIII’s keep, or gun tower.Pendennis_CastleBegun in 1539, this was built as a response to the then threat of invasion by French and Spanish forces. It has four sections: a guardhouse, a fore building, a central round tower and a surrounding gun platform known as a “Chemise.” Not only is it one of the finest examples of one of the first purpose-built Gun Forts, but it also has one of the last drawbridge and portcullis installed in a castle other than as a decoration.

You see the most fascinating thing about this place is that it is not a castle from the days of knights on horseback and bow and arrows, no, Pendennis has always been about guns, very big guns! Everywhere around the place you will find artillery pieces from the various ages of the castle’s history and most impressive of all, a lot of them are still in working order and are regularly fired; much to the excitement of any children visiting, this one included!

Today, the main reason that I was visiting Pendennis Castle was to watch the firing of the Noon-Day Gun. This is a tradition that was only resurrected only last year. Pendennis has long marked the accurate passage of time; for many years a time ball was dropped at 1pm every day so that ships could set their clocks, so vital for accurate navigation. This in turn led to the firing of a gun at noon and later still to the use of a siren.

The Pendennis Time Ball

The Pendennis Time Ball

Today the Castle staff use the historic artillery pieces to mark the passage of time, during my visit the chosen gun was one of two Quick Firing 25 pounder British field guns that date from World War Two and were still in service until the early 1960’s. It was the first time that I had ever been up close and personal with such a weapon, despite descending from two artillery serving Grandfathers! There must be some artillery in my genes though, as I was handed the firing pistol and asked to cock it, without hesitation I did just that and I’d honestly never even seen one before, strange!

The firing pistol.

The firing pistol.

Anyway, we all got excited as the gun was loaded with it’s blank round and waited for the signal to fire. Then wait a minute, we can’t fire because there are a couple of dog walkers beneath the ramparts. . . Henry VIII never had this trouble! The we got the “all clear” and boom, the gun was fired! The photo really doesn’t do it justice, but it was a good bang!

The Noon Gun Fires!

The Noon Gun Fires!

Then all that was left was to unload and clear the breach ready for tomorrow.

Smokin'!

Smokin’!

The collection of artillery pieces also includes an American 155mm “Long Tom” field gun, one of only four on display outside the USA and the only one that works.P1030908

Towards the Southern perimeter of Pendennis Castle can be found more recent defences. Known as Half Moon Battery because of its distinctive shape, this emplacement was first constructed in 1793. Over the years it was repeatedly rebuilt and modernised, from 1911 six-inch calibre naval guns have been in place. The guns were replaced twice during the Second World War the first time because they were worn out and the second occasion improved versions were fitted with greater range and power. The last time that these guns were fired in anger was in 1944 when Nazi surface vessels were engaged. The latter guns could fire a 100 pound shell to a range of 12 miles and were radar directed.

6" Mark 24  gun in Half Moon Battery

6″ Mark 24 gun in Half Moon Battery

Above Half Moon lies a low concrete building sunk into the rampart, this is the Battery Observation Post which controlled the two guns and provided accurate target information to the gunners. It has been restored to its wartime appearance and even houses an optical depression position finder, an early sort of computer for plotting the course and range of a target which was surprisingly accurate.
Inside the Observation Post, depression position finder in the centre.

Inside the Observation Post, depression position finder in the centre.


Beneath the battery are the powder and shell magazines; superbly preserved these chambers are open to visitors as part of informative guided tours, they include audio recordings of the guns in action together with the experience of being under attack from an air-raid and very interesting they are too, I’d certainly recommend tagging along if you ever visit Pendennis.
The powder magazine, bagged charges for the six-inch guns to the left.

The powder magazine, bagged charges for the six inch guns to the left.


Leaving the subterranean chambers behind I enjoyed a stroll around the ramparts and on the eastern side spent some time at Nine-Gun Battery. Overlooking Carrick Roads, the deep water anchorage, this dates from 1730 and is armed with nine classic muzzle-loading cannons from the late 18th and early 19th Centuries, Captain Jack Sparrow and his mates would certainly recognise these guns!
Nine-Gun Battery.

Nine-Gun Battery.

I see no pirates!

I see no pirates!


That reminds me! Pendennis Castle holds various events throughout the year to interest visitors of all ages. Pirates will next be attacking on Tuesday and Wednesday 28th and 29th July, whilst Medieval Jousting is held every Tuesday and Wednesday in August, for more details click here.

All that then remained was a visit to the rather excellent tea room for a spot of light lunch then hit the road again.

With particular thanks to Kirsty and Kate of English Heritage for facilitating my visit.

“Do you ever see in your dreams all the castles in the sky?”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

PS It was OK for me to handle the firing pistol, I hold a firearms licence.

Sorry that some of the photos are a bit dark, but I hope you get the drift.
Does my gun look big in this?