It was Tuesday.
It was 6-06 pm.
The sun was as bright as the wind was cold.
Beach Buoy reversed into the parking bay so that there was shelter when the van's side door was opened.
He could the see the wild sea in the rear view mirror.
It all looked very dramatic.
They headed to the beach.
They headed for the water's edge before ambling south, with a strong cold wind on their backs.
The whole bay was a mass of breaking waves.
The surf was whiter than white, thanks to the brightness of the sun.
The beach was a wide one thanks to the lowish tide.
Two dog walkers passed nearby heading north against the wind.
Another two came from the north, overtaking Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog with their dog; Boe.
Beach Buoy headed to the stack with stones in hand and a Stubborn Dog on tow.
They were almost pushed up the steep dune edge by the strong wind.
Beach Buoy looked out to the bay.
Even though the tide was low, all of the bay's piers were being pounded by the wild sea.
Waves rushed up to North Gare Pier, rose with a distant thud, before landing and spreading like a net across the pier; caught by the sea.
They headed back down to the beach.
On the water's edge there was a sad sight; a dead Harbour Porpoise.
No photograph taken.
Its body was black with bare patches like a very worn piece of leather.
Its skull was exposed.
Beach Buoy wondered how something so cute looking could have a skull that looked like something off the set of Alien!
They walked down to Sand Martin corner.
Unsurprisingly none were spotted.
Today was not one for house building.
Beach Buoy pictured the little birds all sat in a portable cabin somewhere, drinking tea and doing crosswords.
They turned to head back north, into the wind.
The sea was hauling the water's edge back ten to fifteen metres before launching back onto the beach , like a ship down a shipyard slipway.
So care was needed to avoid a
"I name this ship Wet Feet may God bless..........."
Even the Sea Serpent Marker was taking hit after hit.
Beach Buoy hoped the friendly creature was safe down below in that sub-sea cave of his.
They had a slow walk back.
The water's edge was dragged out even more, down by the north end of the beach, almost Tsunami in appearance.
Hartlepool Breakwater was throwing the pounding sea up higher than the nearby houses that watched over the bay.
Beach Buoy only had three finds.
He dropped them back onto the beach.
"I'll find them again.
Maybe tomorrow?
Maybe two years from now?
Or maybe never?"
BEACH BUOY.
