It’s a glorious morning with bright blue sky and lovely cool
temperature. St Pancras Station clock tower shines at the end of Argyle Street
as I wait with the luggage on the footpath while Hubby goes in to check out. When he returns I’m successful in persuading him
to get a cab rather than drag our luggage on the tube with sore feet. I suspect
I’m suffering as much as Hubby these days. Why oh why did I buy new waterproof
shoes. I haven’t needed them.
Our route to Victoria Station takes us along an interesting
route past Brunswick Square and ornate Australia House and onto the Strand. We
have unwittingly been so close to Australia House and not realised it. We round
the corner and we’re at Somerset House. We keep on and pass Trafalgar Square. I
think how very fitting today when we’re on our way to Portsmouth to see HMS
Victory. I notice the statue of a horse skeleton. What’s that about? Down along
Horse Guards Road. Past Buckingham Palace with the Victoria Memorial, the
gilded pinnacle resplendent in morning sunshine. If I could have devised a
route to make the most of our drive on the way out of London it would be
hard to come up with a more lovely one thismorning.
The journey south is something of a blur. A large ancient
building on hill north west of Lancing makes an impressive sight viewed from
the train and I resolve to look up what it could be.
Our arrangements require us to get off at Fratton where
Enterprise will meet us at the station with a hire car. If they’ve told us to
call when we get there I’ve forgotten all about it and can only remember that
they said they’d pick us up at 11.30. By the time we ring to see what’s going
on and they’ve made their way down here we’ve slipped a little but nothing
drastic. Back at the car rental office we are doing paperwork. We have a little
Ford number and what a tinny piece of crap it is compared to the Seat we’ve
been driving around in Scotland. Hard to believe they are both in the same
class and same price per day. This one doesn’t fit our luggage in the boot so
one suitcase needs to go on the back seat. The service isn’t as good as the
Enterprise outlets in Edinburgh and Glasgow either. For some reason here they
feel they need to underline that the change we made to our original prepaid booking is
not normally allowed and how good are they that they met our need. Then a
little lecture about making a flexible booking if we’re not sure of our plans.
Patronising little squirt. It’s not good service to point out how grateful we
should be for the service. Luckily it’s not long before we are in the
car and driving away because that bloke was really giving me the shits. I make
a conscious decision to let it go and enjoy our day. We’re making directly to Portsmouth Historic
Dockyard.
There’s a couple of obvious parking options near to the
Dockyard but we take the official Dockyard one even though it is slightly
further away from the Entrance. We hobble around high brick walls that have
shards of glass embedded in the top to deter trespassers. I’m diverted by a
strange statue of a child lifting her skirt and handing a coin to a man. What
the? I head over to investigate and find that there is a longstanding although
recently defunct tradition of “mudlarking” that is children touting for people
to throw coins into the mud for them to retrieve. Tricks and schemes to induce
greater sums are all part of the game.
Looking out at the water we can see the tall masts of HMS Warrior. What an
impressive sight she is.
We head on in past a man on gate duty retrieve our tickets
and a map and consider our plan of attack. Warrior is tempting and so
beautifully close by but conscious of our ever limited time we decide we’ll go
to the furthest point of the dockyard and tick off the sights in priority
order. That means we’re headed for HMS Victory. Nelson’s flagship at the Battle
of Trafalgar. It’s quite a long way and we’re diverted for a few moments to
watch the boats that visitors can drive around outside the Action Stations
building. Wouldn’t this place be fantastic fun for kids.
I’m a little disconcerted to find the Victory dismasted and in dry
dock. She’s currently undergoing restoration work. The
information available to us suggests this was supposed to finish long ago but
she’s still clearly being caught indisposed. I try to imagine her with her
rigging in place. There’s a large display board alongside her that explains the
masts, rigging and sails of a first rate ship of the line. I’ll study that at
my leisure later. I am usually pretty good at visualising things but it’s a
struggle to see Victory as she would be fully ship shape. Even with her masts
off, the scale of the ship makes her impossible to capture in a
photograph away from the hoardings and construction scaffolding used for her
repair. She is very large indeed. We flash our tickets again and this time
resist the offer of a souvenir guide book. £6.50 is pretty steep and fresh from
carrying our excess baggage that is largely composed of attraction guides, I
resist. Up the gangway and through an
ornate opening in the ship’s hull, we’re into the ship and right amongst the
guns which are lined up facing the gun ports as far as the eye can see. Wow.
Even indisposed she is one magnificent vessel. Easily the most impressive we’ve
seen and easily the most important as well. The leather buckets and ram rods
for firing the guns are all there awaiting action. This is really worth seeing.
Myths are dispelled about gun recoil and detailed information provided about
the various guns. What an extraordinary thing it is to walk these decks. I am
experienced now and I know that this time spent stalking the ghosts of an 18th
century battleship is going to mellow and mature over time, my appreciation
will expand as I finish reading the beautifully written two volume biography of
Nelson I have waiting for me at home. I only managed to get through his
childhood and some of his very early career before we came away. What an
amazing thing it would be to see this ship in full sail. What a dream to see it
with a full complement of seamen lined up at action stations.
We head down the stairs, which are pretty generous in their
proportions, to the gun deck below. A sign explains
the conditions during battle. There’s less light down here. I marvel again at the extraordinary developments
in camera technology. A film camera would never in a million years manage to
capture most of the interior spaces.
We move along, guided by the ropes that corral visitors along
the carefully thought out route around the ship pausing to read information
boards here and there. There’s also a number of guides stationed strategically
on the different decks but mostly they seem to be slacking off and for a long
while I don’t realise that their job is actually to engage with us and tell us
about the different areas. One fellow is making himself useful measuring the
distance the chairs are from the captain’s dining table, concerned that lest he
do it right it just looks a mess. The chairs nearest the ropes suffer most from
people feeling a compulsion to move them. Across the way
Nelson’s dress uniform is on display resplendent with high honours. Is that
original? I suppose it must be. Wow. …Wow. Nelson’s ghost haunts this ship. Resting
on the table a display case contains the ceremonial sword of the First Sea
Lord, here on his flagship. It just blows my mind that HMS Victory is still the
flagship of the Royal Navy.
Recording these impressions a few weeks later, looking at
the photos already I don’t recall if there was information to explain what the
box like tented hammock affair was. Maybe it’s Nelson’s bed? It’s
beautifully embroidered so perhaps it must be.
Hanging in a position where most sane people would be
tempted to have a go at it, is the drum that I guess was used to beat time for the gun
drills. Naturally there’s a sign saying not to touch. We move along to see the
bilboes where offenders were constrained prior to punishment.
Our tour continues past the galley which is large and
equipped with state of the art equipment for its day. It’s a really pleasant
space actually and I can think of far worse set ups in which to prepare food.
It’s all in very good condition also. Very evocative.
We go down again and again exploring the quarters of the
young gentlemen (midshipmen), visit the storage areas and learn how they
managed the gunpowder and the risks associated with it. As we descend the light
gets less and less and eventually the camera is defeated. Flash photography is
not allowed. The lower echelons sleep in almost total darkness. In the lowest
depths of the ship is the area for bulk storage of food and coal and other general stores. I never
imagined that gun ships in the days of sail were so sophisticated or so large
or with so many levels. If we include the open deck there must be at least 5
levels to her.
The most affecting area of the ship is the presentation on
the death of Nelson. The original is long gone, but they have on hand for
viewing a large cask of the type that Nelson’s body was placed in, submerged in
alcohol for the journey back to Britain where he was buried in Westminster Abbey.
I had never given the remotest thought to the logistics around repatriating a
body in those days but apparently this was the established practice for senior
officers. This information is given to us by a guide who is actually working. The personal interaction really enhances the
experience. Standing here on the Victory, I feel extremely saddened to think of the nation’s loss and how sombre it must have been on board carrying his
remains home. It’s amazing to stand at
the place where Nelson was killed and where earlier in the battle the ship’s
secretary was cut in two by flying shot, his lower ranked remains promptly and without
ceremony flung overboard.
Victory had suffered some damage in the battle and having
returned safely was then sent back to where she was built at Chatham for
repair. That’s where she should be now. The place where her refits were done in
the past. Chatham. We know from our visit there that the Chatham Historic
Dockyard is very much of the view that she should return there. It makes sense that should be so and I emerge from the ship in
agreement with Chatham. Victory should be at the dockyard where she was built when she is undergoing work. It's not likely that's going to be taken away from Portsmouth. Still, wouldn't it be fantastic to see continuing to sail back and forth.
Done with HMS Victory our next target is the remains of the Mary Rose in
its purpose built museum. We pass by the ship’s bell and on into a gallery with
some information panels containing contextual information on the ship. To move into the Museum proper we need to navigate
some doors that open every few minutes and close again while we watch a short
film of the Mary Rose and her demise which open again to let us on our way,
sending pulses of human visitors into the gallery.
We peer into the enormous chamber where the remains of the
hull are now being carefully dried after a couple of decades of being sprayed
with a sort of wax solution with which the salt water supporting the now
fragile structure of the wood has been replaced. It’s in an advanced state of
destruction. Along the opposite wall are items recovered from that area of the
ship. Guns quite often but a myriad of other treasures, large and small. The
museum is designed on levels coinciding with the levels of the ship and the
remaining hull. The hull I can live without. The relics are absolutely
extraordinary as is the excavation and the magnitude of the task they set
themselves raising all of this from the sea bed. We spend a couple of hours
slowly moving around the exhibits and reading about what they are and what has
been learned from them. It’s almost unbelievable what has survived. They have
everything from skulls and a skeleton of crew members and forensic mock ups of
what they may have looked like. Most on board perished due to the anti-boarding
netting that was in place to prevent the ship being boarded and taken by
hostile forces. Not only humans but animals too. The skeleton of the ship’s dog
sits in its glass case 570 years after death. And they believe they know who
some of the skeletons are as they were found within spaces and alongside
belongings that give strong circumstantial evidence to back up the forensic
analysis of the affects of their occupation on their skeleton. The whole
presentation is fascinating. We are completely absorbed. I am amazed when we
come to the display about the long bows. The wreck contained cases of long bows
and cases of arrows. Presumably this is the best of them arranged so
beautifully behind the glass. What they’ve found has revolutionised understanding
of long bow technology. There is also a hands on experience where a member of
staff guides you having a go of a couple of newly made long bows of different
hardnesses. I am quick to accept an offer of a turn and others follow me.
We read and watch with interest the displays and
presentations about the salvage of the Mary Rose. Surprise surprise, the
President of the Mary Rose Trust, which gets no public funding, is Prince Charles
and he was also among the volunteer divers who contributed so many thousands of
hours to painstakingly reveal the treasure beneath the silt. Is there no end to the heritage projects the
prince champions.
Absolutely gobsmacked at what we have seen, the Mary Rose
Museum has completely and comprehensively exceeded our expectations, we talk to
each other about our wonderment and our admiration of the conservation effort
as we make our way out through the gift shop.
It’s unbelievable. Outside once more, Hubby heads back to buy the guide book. Obviously we have to have the guide book on the Mary Rose.
It’s now approaching 4:30 and I commence an earnest search
for some toilets. Every facility I can find is closed for cleaning. There
follows a ludicrous hunt around the enormous scale of the dockyard in search of
an accessible toilet. In the end in desperation I just go in and ignore the
bloody sign. It’s not all bad though because the hunt has brought us to the
coin operated machines in Boathouse 4 and we waste 10 minutes or so watching
them operate. Most are pretty funny, a definite favourite being the one that
presents a hanging!
What now? We check out our map and note that we have the
narrowest of margins to make last entry to the only possible further exhibit
today. It’s way back down the other end of the dockyard though. Hubby’s
inclined to leave it for today and I’m inclined to agree. We’re in wind down at
the end of a long, exhausting trip. Let’s head home, or really, let’s head over
and check into our B&B. Hubby leads us back to through the gate that is
patently not closed despite the signage.
It’s tempting to just sit outside but it
will cool off as the evening progresses so we head inside to the dining room
slightly delayed by stopping to admire a beautiful vase of fragrant oriental lilies, richly pink offset by blue Delphiniums. We have a
choice of tables at this early time. It’s only just after six. We take a seat and peruse the menu waiting
for the staff to bring the portable specials board over for us. It’s a beautifully relaxing ambiance and the
views across Portsmouth Harbour are wonderful. I spend a little time
considering how difficult maintenance of the paintwork on the sea side of the
room must be. It seems to be a pretty sheer drop to the rocks below. Watching the Wightlink and Channel ferries
coming in to their dock is really impressive. We’re in no hurry here. Really I
cannot recall the last time I ate somewhere that felt so relaxing. And this
despite my chair not being all that comfy for my particular bottom.
To start we
have decided to share a serve of salt and pepper squid. This arrives on a bed
of leaves, tentacles upper most and rings beneath, a lovely little dish of
aioli on the side for dipping. Well. This is unexpected. Remember the squid at
Fritzel’s Schnitzels? I say to Hubby. Over thirty years ago there was a
schnitzel house in Sydney that we used to go to when we were dating. Sometimes
we’d just go for the calamari (squid) and leave, raising the eyebrows of the
staff. It was the BEST calamari. We still talk of it often. In all our lives we
have had a lot of calamari most of it very good, but a couple of places it was
amazing and truly memorable. Best of all was at Dining Room 1, one of Stefano’s
restaurants in Mildura in regional Victoria back in 2005. Second best for
quality, but unbeatable as sentimental favourite was at Fritzel’s Schnitzels.
It was baby squid. It was superbly tender. The coating was crisp and light and
in perfect balance to the squid. Well. I’m sure it’s obvious by now that this
squid at Still and West is as good. Not nearly as good. It’s as good. I wish
we’d ordered a serve each. It is absolutely beautiful.
Looking out at the golden light falling on the harbour that
stretches off into the distance reminds me of home and Sydney Harbour.
Portsmouth Harbour is extremely impressive and scenic too. Hubby sips his beer
and I’m doing the same with my cloudy apple juice watching the sun set.
Down at ground level the Spinaker Tower is lit in bright
colours that rotate through a spectrum, the colour shifting gradually to the
next every ooh, maybe 20 seconds or so. It’s beautiful. The evening is cool but
not cold. We stand and watch as we stroll. Hubby’s feet are sore so he’s keen
not to be standing in one spot. Standing is harder than walking for him so he
goes across to a bench to sit down. I’m mesmerised by the display. It’s a
beautiful night and a beautiful scene.
We’re
on our way in, all set for the night, having made sure we’ve got what we need
from the car before going inside. Our
room is very comfortable. What a lovely day we’ve had.
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