It's Rude To POINT

And To Be Spurned

For Lo! we are back on the topic of Spurn Point again, that remarkable piece of Yorkshire geography in the North Sea and the Humber estuary.  You can't really call it a peninsula, it's more a spit than anything else thanks to it's very elongated and etiolated dimensions.  Art!

     Thanks to a storm in 2013, it now becomes a tidal island, as part of the spit was semi-destroyed and it's conceivable it might become a permanent island given global warming and coastal erosion.

     ANYWAY there has been a military presence on the Point itself for over two hundred years, as batteries of guns on the point command the approach to the estuary.  There aren't any Napoleonic structures still extant - erosion and terrain creep, you know - but bits from the First and, especially, the Second Unpleasantness are prevalent.  So much so that ALW, an exploratory group who investigate industrial archaeology, have visited.  Art!

     Looks like a radar installation.  Because of the, you know, radar atop  the buildings.

     Anyway, our intrepid explorers begin at the Discovery Centre, at the north end of the spit, and observe "pillboxes everywhere".  Art!

     This looks to be one of the octagonal models.  Note wooden barrier to prevent access, to what is undoubtedly a damp, dank, stinking midden.  Our heroes removed and had a nosey and the interior was flooded, not just damp.

     They then set off down the spit, observing along the way, and noting that tidal action and erosion has shifted the mass of the spit eastwards.  They also came across this.  Art!

     The tourist information signs have this as an anti-tank ditch, and the only reason it's still extant is because of the concrete wall, because ATDs are normally merely excavated and will back-fill over the decades due to weather.  The daring duo keep on until the reach the actual Point and come across the old accommodation for gun crews.  Art!

Now public toilets

     They continue further across the Point, where there are paths created by the transit of other tourists, since there are rather less signs and notices to direct people.  Along the way they come across an ammunition storage bunker that would have serviced the guns.  Art!

     Travelling uphill, they catch sight of a large ship heading up the estuary, and then that building as seen on their title clip, which is identified as a HM Coastguard building.  Whilst the buildings don't seem occupied, or at least not in the parts where the glass is transparent, the radar atop the building is merrily whizzing round, so it may very well be un-manned and on automatic operation.  If there is a crew there it would be a bleak existence, to say the least.  Art!

     Further on there are more derelict and abandoned buildings, where time, weather and erosion has partially collapsed the structures, which were evacuated in 1959.  Not to mention the encroaching plant life, especially treacherous brambles.  Art!

     This is one of the gunpits for the 9.2" guns that were sited here.  In the top picture you can see it as the ALW chaps found it, in a state of being over-run by nature, and at bottom a gunpit as cleared out and renovated by volunteers.  It's not clear what date ALW visited - definitely post-2013 and possibly 2020, so some of their visited sites may have been tickled up already.

     The chaps beetle about a bit further, and traipse around the Coastguard building, revealing - Art!

     Proof that it is occupied.  I hope they have plenty of books and crossword puzzles.

     Here's the link if you care to watch the whole thing:

Spurn Point Military Exploration - ALW Exploration

     I've condensed over half an hour of video here.  And there's even a Part 2?  We may come back to this.

Further To "The Way Of The Gun"

Conrad did a little digging after his mention of said film, and it turns out that Chris and Doug McQuarrie, as rambunctious young lads, were forbidden by their mum ('Mom' for our South Canadian readers) from having or playing with guns.

     Oooops.

     Doug, you see, ended up in the South Canadian Navy SEALS, who are basically walking guns.  Art!

     Chris worked for four years as a private detective, and had frequent recourse to use a gun.

     Mrs. McQuarrie says she encourages other parents to have their sons (and daughters, no judgement here) play with guns in order to get their unhealthy fascination out of their systems.

Stop Press: Conrad Still Angry!

Don't think that, because I've not been complaining about having to vapourise scores of Codeword compilers, the Remote Nuclear Detonator has gone unused.

     O no.

     Let us now show how these wretches push the boundaries of lexicographical allowance.

"TROPE": "A word or expression used in a figurative sense".  Of course, I knew what it was because I've been on the website 'TV Tropes' which is a colossal misnomer, as it deals with films, comics, books and computer games. But - how often do you see this used in day-to-day language?  NEVER!  Art!

Helio Trope

"JAMBOREE":  I can't even find a definition in either Collins or Brewer's.  I shall have to resort to the internet <hack spit>.  Typically associated with Boy Scouts and concerning a large festive event, and nobody seems to know where it comes from.  Art!

Jam Brulee.  Close as you're going to get.

"SYNONYMS":  Yeah, yeah.  Words with the same meaning.  How about 'OBSCURE'. 'PEDANTIC' and 'OBTUSE'?  Hmmmm?  <hammers Remote Nuclear Detonator with apoplectic fury>

"The Sea Of Sand"

I should probably point out, since it's been a while, that this is a fan-fiction of mine from ages ago.  Don't wince in embarrassment, there are no Mary-Sues, the Doctor does not romance his assistant, and it doesn't cross-over featuring The Rolling Stones or Columbo.

Roger slid a two-pounder shell into the breech and closed it.  Oil and grease helped to make the loading smoother.  He squinted into the aiming telescope, seeing nothing but gravel and sand. 

Okay, elevate.  The elevating drum turned stiffly, as he brought the gun up to register at a range of three hundred yards.  It wasn’t possible to turn the turret; he had to wait until a target crossed his line of vision.

With a rapidity that displayed his nervousness, the officer stood up and looked out of the open turret hatch.  The injured camel cantered closer, the black tank, squat and baleful, crawled along behind.

Roger dropped back into the gunner’s seat, squinting into the rubber eyepiece, sweat and grit rubbing at his eyelid.

There!  A fleeting glimpse of an irregular, rounded, bobbing object.  Then a dark, glossy shape appeared in the sights.  He pulled the trigger, ears suffering from the greatly-amplified bang that rang in the turret.  Flicking the breech lever, the hot brass base of the two pounder shell rattled onto the floor at his feet.  Roger slid another shell home, closed the breech, checked that there was still a target there – and there was – and fired again.

Tam and Davey witnessed the camel come into the depot, catching one glimpse of a terrified female face cradling a child under the concealing blue cloth, before the creature trotted off.

     Ha!  Take that, bio-vores!

Finally -

March is being typically fitful.  It was bright and sunny earlier when I walked Edna, which of course - obviously! - meant a horde of other dogwalkers.  There was a wind with teeth in it, mind, and we've already had a grimy grey overcast and rain.  Now it's back to clouds and intermittent sunshine.  This, you see, is why domestic solar-panel use in This Sceptred Isle is doomed to failure.

     Anyway, time for a comfort break, a scrape of the bristles and lunch.

     Chin chin!