Intrepid cyclists like Chris and I don’t mind dark clouds overhead or the promise of rain so we cycled to Cockwood Harbour anyway. The tide was out, making it possible for us to walk under the railway bridge and around to the mud and stones on the estuary side. I had a feeling the swans would be there and I wasn’t disappointed. The gregarious creatures made a beeline for me and, regardless of the fact that I had no food for them, they seemed to enjoy being admired and photographed.

Another photographer, armed with a splendid looking camera bearing a long lens, set up position some twenty yards from me on the stones near the harbour wall; he was out to shoot other birds, perhaps rarer and farther off than the swans. Meanwhile, using my trusty little mobile phone camera, I risked disappearing into the soft mud in order to get these shots for you.

In the harbour itself, two men of the sea chatted at leisure before returning to work on their boats; and a sailor, carrying bags and equipment for a voyage, made two trips to his tender – he was waiting for the tide to come in enough for him to take out his small boat into the estuary where his sailing boat was moored. The old sailor passed the time of day with me and said he was sailing to Dartmouth for the day.

I felt a bit envious of the sailor; but I couldn’t have gone sailing today even if he had asked me because I have to finish painting the top steps at home – and besides which, I don’t know how to sail a boat. Ah, but it would have been nice to have a try… (Dere’s wha my heart is turning ebber). Instead, I cycled back to de old plantation and washed de mud of de ribber off my trainers.