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Saturday, 29 January 2022

SEATON SANDS, HARTLEPOOL 29 JAN. 2022.

Friday night plans had dismantled brick by brick.

By 9pm the wall collapsed so Beach Buoy went to bed.

3-30 a.m. Beach Buoy was up.

A strong wind was increasing in strength as the night/ early morning went on.

Beach Buoy made a coffee and some toast.

He updated the blog, did a drawing as he listened to Radio Cornwall.

Beach Buoy said "Hi" to Cornwall.

Cornwall said "Hi" to Beach Buoy.

It was 7-34 a.m. when they reached the beach car park.

It was a windy morning.

Shifting sands made mesmerising patterns.

A man and dog walked the water's edge.

Beach Buoy scooped up Another Dog when the sands were shifting just a little too much.


The shifting sand had clung to some of the wet sand. Finding bits and bobs would be difficult today.

As the walk progressed the height of the dune edge increased.

It was this height that offered protection from the strong wind down on the beach.

Overhead, Gulls struggled to head west.

Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed up to Stubborn Dog Stack.

Beach Buoy arrived, beach stones in hand.

Another man and another Another Dog were stood there 

"Morning."

"Morning."

"Blowy isn't it? " said the man.

"It isn't half."

The man and his dog headed north.

Beach Buoy added the stones and patted THE

 stone.


It was 8 a.m.

It was too windy to pause to drink coffee.

It was a struggle to stand upright in the strong wind that blew on the exposed dunes.

A couple of minutes after sunrise the sky glowed.

"See you Mate."

Tomorrow the sunrise time would begin with a 7.

The bright sunrise lasted around ten minutes..

They headed south on the beach.

The sky was almost as dark as the sea coal they walked on as the walk progressed.


There was much more shelter down near the tank traps down at Sand Martin Corner.

A world war two tank trap made do as a modern day coffee table.

Beach Buoy had brought chocolate but had stupidly  forgot to bring a dog treat.


They watched a small Red Ship head for the river.

A couple to the north had picked the wrong say to try and beach comb.


Coffee drank, they headed back.

Rock pools are like fingerprints



They headed back.
A grey sea rippled, not roared.
A dotted line of tired seabirds stood at the water's edge as if waiting for a signature

They made it to the shelter of the van.
They both snoozed briefly.

BEACH BUOY.