THE TALL SHIPS AND ME

I caught my first glimpse of one of the participating vessels in this year's Tall Ships Race on the gloomy, damp morning of Tuesday 19th June.  The ship was the Dutch gaff-rigged ketch "Urania", and she was at anchor in Gulberwick bay as my brother Peter and I were on our way, through the Black Gaet, to Scalloway.  At our village of destination, we found another participant, the Bremen-registered "Esprit" (another ketch, of more recent build), and a very smart little ship she was. When we returned in the afternoon, she had been joined by the Dutch three-masted schooner "Eendracht".  Meanwhile, in Lerwick, the Norwegian ketches "Auno" and "Wyvern av Aalesund" had arrived, and another couple of small ships had arrived at Cullivoe, Yell.  Shetland's role in the 2011 Tall Ships race had begun to be played, and people were looking anxiously skyward, as well as seaward, to see if the weather was going to be kind.....

It was - briefly.  Next morning dawned bright and fair, with light winds, although there was a bit of cloud cover coming and going.  I sat at my window, enjoying a cup of tea with my sister Mary, who was one of the liaison officers for the Colombian barque "Gloria", watching her ship picking up the pilot off the Bressay Light and making her elegant way in towards the harbour.  Mary went off to perform her diplomatic duties, and I was left to try concentrating on doing a day's work.  Some hope!  I kept stopping to look seaward, as more and more of these beautiful ships approached.  The almost indefinably-rigged "Pelican of London", the Polish barquentine "Pogoria" and the Dutch topsail schooner "Gulden Leeuw" arrived during the morning, followed by the "Lord Nelson", "Dar Mlodziezy" and "Alexander von Humboldt" in the afternoon.  Other smaller, less easily identifiable, ships were also making their appearance.  That was a happy day for me, with my greedy eyes almost getting their fill from what was before them.

The next day, Thursday, was the first of three consecutive ones for which I'd booked a stall to sell my arty wares.  My brother Peter had agreed to help me transport my goods and display units down to the Toll Clock Centre in a car he had hired for his holiday here.  I am very grateful to him for his help, which speeded this process up, as well as saving me a taxi fare.  The wind was freshening from the north, although otherwise the weather was still quite pleasant, dry and bright.  Most of the participating tall ships had arrived by midday, although it was early evening before the Norwegian barque "Statsraad Lehmkuhl" arrived at her allocated berth at Shearer's Pier.  The sound of rock and roll music could be heard  from the stage at Holmsgarth.  Shetland had started to boogie, and my brother caught the ferry south that evening with the sounds of the party ringing in his ears.  The view of the harbour from the ferry would have been spectacular too.

I had arranged to leave my display units at the centre for the next couple of nights (at my own risk, of course), so that I only had my bags of cards and prints to transport back and forth each day.  I was glad of this facility as, with my brother gone, lugging all that stuff up and down my stairs each day would have been a pain - literally.  I had also arranged for my friends Lynne and Malcolm to look after the stall for a few hours on Friday, while I went out to Whiteness to pay my usual visit to my mother and see that she was OK for the weekend.  By evening the wind had risen to near gale force, from a northerly direction, although it was still dry and quite bright, and it bore the sound of the Levellers all over town, from the Holmsgarth stage, that evening.

Saturday dawned dry, and still reasonably bright, but the strong winds were becoming an issue.  With no improvement forecast for Sunday, the decision was made to postpone the departure of the ships (which had been previously scheduled for Sunday) until the following day when winds were expected to ease.  My last day at the Toll Clock Centre was a busy one, and by close of business, I had far exceeded my notional target figure for the three days takings - it had certainly been a worthwhile venture for me.  I had met many old friends, including one with whom I'd done business only online, and made many new ones.  I had added Slovenia to the list of European countries in which my artwork is owned.  As Captian Gabriel Perez of the Colobian barque "Gloria" was presented with one of my prints as a souvenir of his Lerwick visit, my artwork is now in every continent of the world!

I am grateful for the help of Jim Wilson of Allied Taxis in getting my display units and remaining stock of cards and prints back upstairs to my flat after my successful three days at the Toll Clock Centre.  There, on the news, on Saturday evening, I first heard of a shocking event which had taken place near Oslo, Norway, in which a gunman had gone on a killing spree of youngsters at an island camp......

That evening, lying in bed, I was listening to the gale-borne sound of Bjorn Again on the Holmsgarth stage.  This was interrupted, at midnight, by the explosions of the firework display, after which there was a brief pause before the ships' sirens began a symphony of their own.  Lerwick was still in party mode.

I had hoped to go for a walk around the harbour with my camera next day, but this notion was soon eliminated from my plans by the weather  - driving rain borne on a north-westerly gale.  There would be no point in taking a camera out of its case in such conditions, which only eased late in the day.  Sounds of music, presumably hastily-arranged gigs by local artistes (of whom there are many!) were still to be heard on the wind, as my sister Thelma and I went out to see our mother at Whiteness in the afternoon. She was well, although missing her summer visitors (first my sister Angela and her husband Nigel, then my brother) terribly.

I hate goodbyes too, and multiple departures are hard for me to take.  In the gloom of a leaden-skied Lerwick last Monday, I watched from my window as the first of the tall ships left the harbour, led out by our own "Swan", followed by the Dutch brig "Morgenster".  Over the next few hours, these beautiful vessels put me through the torture of the Parade of Sail.  Some of the ships won't be back - ever.  I understand that the green sails of the "Alexander von Humboldt" have graced their last Tall Ships event, as shortage of funds means that an essential refurbishment cannot take place, and she will have to be either sold or scrapped.

The last farewell was to my friends Lynne and Malcolm, to whom must go my last and most deeply-felt expression of gratitude.  I had a few lagers with them on Monday evening, and they departed on the Tuesday night ferry on the first leg of their journey back to Tyneside.  They had three of my paintings with them, and they had given up some of their own holiday time to look after my stall on the Friday while I attended to other essential matters elsewhere.

Now I look at the empty Lerwick quaysides, and wonder if they will be graced by such lovely ships again in my lifetime.  Who knows?  We Shetlanders certainly know how to organise and enjoy a good party, regardless of prevailing weather conditions.  It must surely happen again.

POSTAGE AND PACKING

The best news of the past two weeks came on Monday 4th October, when my client rang to tell me that he was pleased with the large seascape (at my second presentation) and that his cheque would be in the post later that week. I told him, when I had come down to earth again, that I would let the work dry for a few days, then get it in the post to him at the beginning of another week.

Here's where my family and my artwork come together, as the painting, at 47" x 39" x 2" deep, is too big for one person to safely handle in the wrapping process. My brother was up on holiday this week, and he agreed to help me with this delicate operation, which took place this last Tuesday afternoon. The packaging involved a couple of layers of bubble-wrap, outside of which were two sheets of 1" polystyrene sheeting (one each side), outside of which were another two layers of bubble-wrap. Then the cardboard outer protection went on, secured by copious quantities of parcel tape. I plastered "Fragile" stickers liberally over it, and attached my previously-prepared "Documents Enclosed" adhesive envelope. My brother reckoned the package was now well-nigh impregnable. I wasn't so sure, but it was difficult to tell how we could have reinforced it any more, so that's the way it went next morning. The post office counter assistant assured me that it would take 48 hours from Wednesday morning, but this turned out to be over-optimistic, as it took until Monday to arrive.

Work has been steady but slow on the commissioned painting of the Helford river in Cornwall. Calm water is always tricky to portray, and I won't be satisfied with the work until you feel you can dive into it for a swim! I've hardly touched the "stock" work of Gourdon harbour, but I'll be able to make better progress on it, and other works, now that the big job has finally been completed and despatched.

On the printing side. more greeting cards are on the way, and I've been replenishing my stock of giclee prints for my forthcoming stalls at the Toll Clock Centre. More of this in about a month's time. Very soon I'll have to turn my attention to decision-making about which magazines and newspapers I'm going to advertise in, in order to catch the eager eyes of the online Christmas shoppers. One tragic sales scenario which has yet to befall me is running out of stock - I'd sooner print too much than too little.

Here I am, preparing for another Christmas sales campaign, and it seems such a short time since the last one. According to the Met Office, the weather is to take on a rather Christmassy feel over the next few days. My sister Mary managed to get a flight out of strike-ridden France yesterday, after a few days holiday there. She was at Birmingham when I phoned her this morning, and she hopes to be back in Shetland on Tuesday morning. I fancy she'll find it a bit chilly after the Basque country. Winter draws on, I guess! Have a good week!

COMPOOGLING?

Could I have invented a new buzzword here - or has someone else stolen my thunder and beaten me to it with this magnificent addition to the internet lexicon? It is a term for the behaviour of someone like me who, when once started on a search for a particular item on the web, carries on with the search for hours on end until either the search has come to its end, the phone or doorbell has rung, or nature has intervened, his compulsion/obsession having taken the whole exercise over.

The other week, I compoogled "Filing Cabinets", a singularly unsuccessful exercise. I spent a whole afternoon, which would have been better spent doing something more useful, discovering that the kind of cabinet I need doesn't exist, and anything approaching it is way beyond my means. This morning, it was "Small Display Units Suitable for Postcards". I found many items which would have been ideal for my purpose, but there was always a snag - a blip in the ointment (sic!), as I once heard a well-known female weather presenter (and metaphor-mixer!) describing it on a renowned television breakfast news programme. On that occasion, a strange image presented itself to me, of a fly appearing, mysteriously and unaccountably, on a radar screen in a parallel universe somewhere!

Anyway, to return to my own universe, which, far from being parallel, consists mainly of ever-decreasing circles, I came across the usual pitfalls in my search for small display units. One firm doesn't deliver to destinations outwith mainland UK (because they can't be bothered to find out how to do it - I'd be quite willing to pay an extra charge for this service). Another had a fault on its online registration/catalogue request form. Every time I pressed "Submit", it came up with the message "You have selected an 'Other' - please specify", despite the fact that I had done no such thing. There's probably someone at "Display Units 'R Us" who's wondering why they haven't had any requests or registrations lately. Come to think of it, how many businesses are going down the tubes because of such flies in their online ointment? Is mine one of them? The sooner I get my website upgraded the better!

Strange how many issues can arise out of a Google search which, in this case, stemmed from an inadequate postcard display at my stall at the Toll Clock Centre in Lerwick yesterday. I did OK, by the way, but not spectacularly well. I sold a few prints and postcards (out of a cardboard box!), met some old friends and made some interesting new ones, and had some good repartee with my fellow stall-holders. The day passed quite quickly. My next set-up will probably be in the run-up to Christmas, and I'd like to have a better presentation unit for my postcards (and maybe Christmas cards!) by then........

CRUISE SHIPS AND RELATED THINGS

The accommodation barge, for the workers on the imminent Sullom Voe Terminal gas plant refurbishment, arrived in Lerwick harbour today. The "Bibby Bigmodularcubething" is, I believe, to be moored at the same place as a similar edifice was, the last time a similar job was undertaken "up nort" a few years back. When the services have been plumbed in, it will provide digs for about a hundred and fifty artisans, and a few security and skivvy jobs for locals, no doubt some of them students, who will welcome the cash boost which long shifts will produce for them.

The presence of this sizeable waterborne structure means that the berth which is normally used for medium-sized cruise ships will be unavailable for this purpose for the whole summer. This will make little practical difference to me, as, in my opinion, cruise ships are a complete waste of time and harbour space. I have yet to sell as much as an A4 print to a cruise-ship passenger, and most local retailers consider these visitors as equally non-contributory to their sales totals. These big white monstrosities may as well be shunted out to the SBS base, or the Dales Voe terminal, which has sat unused, reeking faintly of mothballs and white elephant ordure, for the last ten years (could this not have been a better location for the accommodation barge?).

Or the ships could be anchored in the inner harbour, along with the vessels which are too large to be berthed. From there, their shell-shocked passengers can be punted ashore in the ships' lifeboats, before being corralled onto tour buses which take them to all the Shetland tourist destinations which are on the "favoured" list. Those venues which charge an entrance fee to cover some of their running costs are deliberately shunned, as a matter of the port authority and Visit Shetland's cosa nostra policy. Tours organised through Northlink Ferries have the same bias. Visit Shetland only will assist local producers who have paid their extortionate membership fees. I was told, on asking them to display a few leaflets in their premises at Lerwick's Market Cross, that they would only do so if I became a member, which cost £150! Surely a scale of service charges would be a more sensible policy.

Apart from a few "iconic" items, such as knitwear, along with goods which are passed off as Shetland products by unscupulous traders to gullible visitors, little is bought from local retailers by cruise ship passengers. They have excellent food provided on board as part of their tariff, so, apart from a few confections, little by way of foodstuffs is bought ashore. I have heard that some of the cruise ship operators actually discourage their clients from buying items from shore-based retailers, as they would much rather that they would spend their limited spare cash on merchandise from their own onboard shops.

The benefit to the local economy from visiting cruise ships is therefore very limited, and much overstated by Visit Shetland and the Lerwick Port Authority. The latter no doubt benefits (from the harbour dues for these vessels), along with local bus operators, a few knitwear manufacturers, and producers of Shetland pate a foie gras, products whose Shetland identity and provenance are based on their creators' residence alone. The umbrella organisations for the local tourist "industry" have found themselves in the position of large piscatorial beings in small aqueous volumes everywhere - they have far more power than they know how to handle properly.

So whenever a large cruise ship appears off the Bressay Light, I regard it with mixed feelings. I enjoy seeing the big ships simply because of my maritime interests, but not because of any financial benefit which might come my way from their presence. The "Bibby Bigboxything" offers more by way of sales prospects for local merchants - her residents will require locally-sourced food and other products. One of them might even want to buy one of my prints to send home to a loved one - who knows?