Today We Talk Of Hurricanes

Not The Weather Phenomenon
Although if you believe the gloomier variety of pundit out there, we here in the Allotment Of Eden are going to be experiencing these things sooner rather than later, thanks to global warming.  Or was it aliens?  Anyway, thank you global warming for making our future so much more - exciting.
     I see one of the prospective methods of preventing a hurricane, or tropical cyclone, was to literally blow it apart with nuclear weapons.  I think this is a classic case of the cure being worse than the disease.  "Hello, citizens of Savannah!  Please remain indoors for the next 48 hours.  Do not look out of the windows.  Avoid getting wet.  Any loud noise you hear will either be thunder or a W48 nuclear warhead going off.  Stay safe now!"
     Anyway, having introduced both weather and nuclear weapons, both subjects close to my fusion-powered pumping unit, I revert back to weather.  Art?

The view from The Mansion's kitchen

     Still sunny!  This makes 3 days in a row, so it is officially Summer.  Don't mock, we have to make the most of what we get at the time we get it.  The rest of Summer will probably be split up in odd days over the next 5 months.

"Gun Button To Fire" By Tom Neil
Now we get to the Hurricanes, these being British fighter aircraft of the Second Unpleasantness.  This autobiography is by one who flew into the jaws of death with the RAF; yes, the Battle of Britain again, as writ by one who was there.  Art?

My edition

     Tom writes of the Battle of Britain as he experienced it, from early summer to the end of 1940.  Much of his job involved hanging around at high altitude, waiting for the Hun to show up, which they frequently didn't.  Insolent rascals!  He describes the gradual evolution of tactics over time, the coming and going of pilots due to casualties or transfers, and he is frank about the design failings of the Mk I Hurricane.  No direct-injection of fuel, for one thing; this means nosing into a rapid dive or ascent caused the engine to cut out for a few vital seconds.  The fuel tanks were arranged, very dangerously, on either side of the pilot, meaning a severe risk of burns if the aircraft caught fire.  And, as I have commented myself, the Mk I stuck with 8 rifle-calibre machine guns for far too long, when switching to at least a mix with cannon would have been far more effective.
     For all the occasional terror and derring-do involved, there was also any amount of stooging around protecting marine convoys or, Tom's pet dislike, maintaining a patrol line between Maidstone and Canterbury, where "Lumba" (Air Traffic Control) would insist that there were Teuton aircraft about, when there weren't.

A Hurricane.  Just so we're clear.

Burrow Island
Being another of Britain's tidal islands, which Conrad freely admits he finds interesting, and he hopes you do, too.  Because you're going to get this article anyway, whether you like it or not.  I'm horrid like that.
     This particular island - it would help if Art could grace us with a picture - 

Thank you, Art

     There it is, at Portsmouth, looking very islandy.  As a tidal island it is only accessible at low tide, when you can potentially walk there.  Only "potentially" because Burrow Island is the property of the MoD and they do not like trespassers,
     Here an aside.  Nowadays we call it the "Ministry of Defence" but back in the days of Empire when there was none of this namby-pamby PC nonsense, we called it "The War Office" and meant it.  Mess with the British Empire and we will wage WAR upon you!  Yes by jingo.  That put the shivers up the back of Johnny Foreigner; railways, the Gatling gun and the Royal Navy.

Burrow with the tide out

     It is possible to go fishing on Burrow Island, if you're discreet.  Just don't get caught with your catch*.

Ah Yes The Cat
Looking at the photo below, one can imagine what is going through her head:

     "Good lord, what was in that catnip?" or, more likely, "Why am I still hungry?"
     The answer to that latter question, madam, is because Edna got up onto the table and ate all your food, whilst you were dozing in triumph in my Sekrit Layr.

Edna, unrepentant.  Probably also rather full.

*  Do you see - O you do.