The first I heard of it was when our visitor Clare asked if we had any binoculars because her husband Phil thought a boat had overturned out at sea. I couldn’t see anything in the dim light of approaching evening. A little later my friend and neighbour Caroline messaged me with news of a dead whale being carried in with the tide.

News travels fast in small places and, as a result, all day long people made their pilgrimages to pay their respects to the stricken whale; from our terrace I watched people go to and fro along our sea wall to the beach by Red Rock. I wasn’t sure if really wanted to see the huge creature in deathly deterioration at close quarters but eventually Chris and I were drawn by the same impulse that brought out everyone else in the town and surrounding districts. We met friends, neighbours, family members and acquaintances; the ones leaving wanted to stop and talk longer, and the ones arriving were eager to be on their way, as you’d expect.

We were glad we went though I can think of a happier occasion when a pod of healthy dolphins stopped off on our beach by the breakwater not far from our house – that was day I went swimming with dolphins. Rumour has it that I rode on the back of a dolphin but, in truth, I think they were a bit wary of me in my wet shorts and they circled me in a rather concerning manner.