Portland Olympics...The View Of The New World To The North Of Us!

    With less than 1 year to go until the Olympics Sailing Events start here in Portland. One wonders at the debarcle that leads us to this current juncture.



    Much has been said about the "Legacy" which is one of the main reasons that so many people got behind the bid for the Olympics to be held here. But now leading up to the Olympic Sailing...the Folk of Portland are wondering where that Legacy is, and exactly what form will it take? And will we really get one?

 

 

   Yes, Portland has a brand new Sailing Acadamy, with landscaped area's and hundreds of Halyards flapping against the aluminium and wooden masts of graceful yachts berthed alongside a plethora of pontoons overlooking the impressive Portland Harbour.

 

 

   The new Bypass from Dorchester...all ready and waiting to speed the Sailors to this most wonderful of lands. The town on the mainland with the sandy beach bedecked in the most pathetic of traffic light systems ever devised. The shutting down of public area's to the locals...just so they can charge countless of pounds to allow for the influx of spectators, all watching the races from the shore...watching the sailboats all in a clump...not ever knowing who is in the lead, because, all you can see is...well...just boats!

 

 

   I watch the local TV News... A presenter stands by Portland Castle, peice to camera...microphone in hand..."Hello, and welcome to (That place on the mainland with the sandy beach!)" When will it end? The Portland Sailing Acadamy is in PORTLAND! How many more times?!  

 

 

   With so few days remaining, Portland is still wondering about the Legacy. We are still awaiting the same money spent on the mainland to be spent here on Portland...Where is our Legacy?

   So, the 30 or so Portable flagpoles that have recently been dotted around the Isle...Is that what the waiting world wants to see? A derelict, neglected Isle that was once a jewel in the English Channel...Her Famous Stone giving cities around the world such Grandure, such Elegance! Yet poor Portland...Guts ripped out...lost...forgotten...Now finds itself on the world stage again, but this time, the modern decay reaches out for help, for finance, for love... Just to be covered over with the proverbial dust sheet!  "Yes, just fluff it up a bit with some flags and perhaps the Sailors and spectators won't notice, hope they visit North, and not bother with what's South of Victoria Square...Don't go there! Tis full of inbreds...." I believe that is the notion of those with authority on the mainland and dare I say... LOCOG?

    I am painting a bleak Picture I know. I am aware that Portland is derelict, and unfinanced...and it breaks my heart! I remember what it was like in the early 70's, Alive, Vibrant....Clean. Yet today, with the promise of so much turning out to be so little...for a fleeting moment, I pictured Portland how she used to be...those memories made me smile. But reality jolts me back to the now. No cash for us! No help on the horizon......We shall just watch the new world from our drab dusty windows...as the wonderful Royal Manor continues to decay, whilst the mainlanders join with the world to sip Pimms on the prom and guffaw at the lonely Rock forever in the shadows............... Some Legacy!

Thanks for listening! Andy

Unto The Breaches My Dear Fort!

Portlands Breakwater Fort, known as Chequer Fort began life around 1852. Twas' designed by a Captain of the Royal Engineers, Captain E. H Steward.

   Millions of tons of Portland Stone went into the building of the Breakwater and the Fort, but this proved quite a burden on the builders of this huge construction. Heavy storms and the sheer weight of the stone in the fort created subsidence, and many cracks appeared during its construction. However, the design was altered to allow for this, so the original plan to have 3 Teirs, were reduced to allow for 2, and the original expectation to build completely in Portland stone to act as armour changed, when it was clad in 3 layers of 15cm thick Iron plating which was cast in Sheffield and shipped from Gosport to fit onto the Fort.

   The design allowed for 14 x 12.5" RML (Rifle Muzzel Loading) cannon weighing 38 Ton each in the lower casement, and 7 cannon atop it.

   As you can imagine, all this weight added to an already subsiding Fort, must have weighed heavy on the engineers minds (No Pun intended).

  During the Fort's life, it was updated on numerous occasions to match the requirement for the age, seeing out both WW1 and WW2. finally being abandoned in 1956.

  During the De-mob, the cannon were removed, and deemed obsolete, so they went for scrap...However 4 Breach blocks remain on the outer side of the fort. (Pictured above) Tis said, that when a boat came to remove them...the task was so difficult, they were abandoned...and now they still sit...rusting away, and playing their vital part in protecting Portland Harbour.

   The Fort still remains all alone on the Breakwater. It is not open to the public, but as I work for the Harbour Authority, I regularly get to visit. I am truly lucky to see up close...the fantastic stonework of this wonderful Portland Building.

Thanks for listening! Andy

The Chesil Cove Hero's

Having recently watched the launching of the first new Lerret at Chesil Cove for 40 years,

 I felt my Poem here sums it all up.... 

Look at the Rooftops! Look at the bend.

Wood salvaged from shipwrecks that met tragic end.
The scattered planks that littered the shore,
were soon cleared away by a dozen or more.

We never lured the ships to their end!

We fired the rockets, breeches buoy we’d send.

Across on a rope, a survivor ashore,
like many a sailor, many times before.

Tis' wrong to suggest we were a scavenging lot.
Leading ships to their peril, leaving dead left to rot.
For those on the mainland, never really knew,
bout' the Portlanders saving the lives of the crew.

The many brave folk of Portland were born,
would row all together, into the mouth of the storm.
All sweating and straining through the sea like a demon,
all, to spare the lives of the seamen.

Still today, the folk of Melcombe and Wyke,
Say, we from the Isle, many lives we did strike.
Little they know of the Portlander brave,
who battled and fought to save lives on the wave.

The spoils of disaster, recycled for need.
Not stolen! Just reward, for their heroic deed.
A pride I feel, for the Islanders brave,
still ready to help…on the next stormy wave.

Thanks for listening! Andy

Old as the Hills!

   Portland has wrongly been accused of being a "Treeless" Island. Today, this accusation cannot be further than the truth!

   Portland has large areas of Trees. Around Pennsylvania Castle, there is a veritable forest as you walk down from Wakeham to the ruins of St Andrew's Church and Church Ope cove. Before the Norman invasion of 1066, tis' said, that this area was at the centre of the Island...Until a Tsunami devastated the East side.

   Other Trees can be found dotted around the Isle, and many can be found surrounding "Old Hill" (Shown Left).

   Old Hill has survived the Isle by many thousands of years, and was the main route for the Uplanders of "Underhill" to get to the top, to the Downlanders of "Tophill", and visa versa.

   In Victorian times, the rough dirt path was transformed by the laying of cobbles and stone and Iron railings to prevent the local gentry getting their elegant clothing from getting soiled.

   The cobbles have long gone from this most ancient of hills, but the Stone posts of the guide rails can still be seen, although not entirely intact. Some have disappeared over time, and no doubt, now lie in some local gardens without the owners knowing what they are or from whence they came.

   This Hill was also lit by wonderful cast Iron gas lamps, so Portlanders were not hindered in their travels due to on-coming darkness.

  Today? the path remains...Un-loved, and unkempt. But nonetheless, still regularly used. The ideals and the fashions may have changed, but I still get the image of the gentry...Ladies with sun umbrella's and floaty gowns. Men with top hats and waking sticks, children climbing on the rails as I walk the "Old Hill"...Knowing in my heart, that I tread the footsteps of thousands of years. 
 
Thanks for listening! Andy

Portland Alive in Tranquility

    Spring is well underway here on Portland. Birds are doing their dance of love, and making sweet music in more ways than one! Flowers are poking their heads out of the soil, slowly stretching towards the sun, and the leaves on the trees, almost extricating themselves from their buds ready to greet the year.

   Down on the East Wears, Bumblebees are buzzing, awaiting the vibrant colours of the awakening flowers. The Butterflies soon to be free from the cells that kept them snug whilst they change into beautiful flying creatures.

   The now unused quarries take on a much greener look as I walk within them. So much nature...alive and well.

   Kingbarrow Gulley (Shown left) Light and airy, until the growing greenery will plunge it into shadows for yet another year.

   It is a wonderful time of year on Portland. I sit on a rock in the middle of Kingbarrow Quarry. The only sounds I hear are nature in full form. The stillness of the scene only interrupted by the flash of some birds as they swoop towards their nests or playfully chase after each other. The ever searching flying insect buzzing around my ear hole. I am at peace with the world. I belong here!

   The paths of Portland starting to dry out now from the winter rains and frosts. They take on a dusty air as walk. And soon, back above Underhill where the sounds of human living spoil the serene natural setting I found myself in only a few minutes ago. Cars driving up Fortuneswell, the Helicopter landing after saving some lives...a complete departure from Kingbarrow Quarry. But...I know, if ever I need an escape from the modern world, I can always re-visit Kingbarrow, and for a little while...Only nature and myself exists in the world. It is the best tonic for everyday life there is!

Thanks for listening! Andy

My Portland. A poem by Andy J Straw

The waves, how they crash on the Chesil shore.

The gulls float majestically above the sea.

This land of Slingers I adore.

This land of rugged beauty.

This Isle of stone I cherish so.

This wonderous home of mine.

I feel the land is calling me,

the rock that I must climb.

The ages cleft pon rocky edge.

Chain and steel on steel.

Plug and Feather split the bed,

tis our royal seal.

The tracks I ponder, the epic view.

Panoramic, the scene below.

but south lie wonder, a burgled land,

within the ebb and flow.

The ships, all gone below the depths,

above too, in loft and eaves.

Gone sailors sadly to their death. 

sea spirit being thieves.

Our history tells but another tale,

and many folk have born,

my Island home to me my life,

        forever we as one.  

                                      Thanks for listening! Andy

Keep Portland Weird?....So what are you saying?

The phrase "Keep Portland Weird" refers to the people of Portland and their age old Customs and beliefs. I have a sneeking suspicion that the concept of said phrase was for just one of our age old customs..."The Bunny Thing" Now as a Portlander born and bred, I was never forced by my parents to adopt this superstition, I took it upon myself at a very early age to adopt this custom...and why not? For I am a Portlander! Why should I not conduct myself as my ancesters did?

I tought myself not to say the Bunny word, and I even read the Bunny word when written as the proper English word, as Bunny? Am I weird? No! I am continuing a tradition, in the hope of keeping my Island home alive, such as many people do with their own customs and way of doing things. Do I chase after a stinking Cheese down a steep hill? Do I run the gauntlet with dozens of Bulls heading towards me, hell bent for leasure? No....so why am I weird? Do I prance around a maypole? do I dress like a twonk and with little bells around my socks continue to hit another mans stick with my own? No! All of these customs are looked upon with love by those who partake in them, they do it...because it is traditional, and they want to continue the custom. They certainly are NOT weird! they are keeping the tradition alive, and I say good luck to them.

As for me....I can't say the Bunny word, no matter how fast I read aloud or how drunk I am...it is a Portland tradition! And I am bloody happy it continues! For those who say we are weird....Take a bloody good look at yourselves first before you bandy the word around. Thanks for listening! Andy.

Taken from a comment I left on Rob Sellen's Portland Bill blog
Thanks for listening! Andy