It was a Bank Holiday Monday.
Beach Buoy woke at 3-20 a.m.
It was too early, even for Beach Buoy.
He woke once more.
He tried to guess the time.
5-05?
A look at his phone; 5-06.
A look out of the window showed that it was a grey start to the day.
No rush to catch a sunrise, it would be a hidden one.
Time to make a beach coffee today before setting off.
They set off.
The Golf Club Flag hung like a wet towel.
A towel still at half mast.
It was 5-32 a.m. by the time they reached the car park.
They headed for the water's edge.
To the north the recently arrived Little Terns chattered away loudly.
The air was still, down on the beach.
There must have been a slight breeze out in the bay, as the wind turbines turned ever so slowly.
A hopeful sunrise seeker stood to the north.
As expected there was no visible sunrise.
There was an orange flash in the sky in the style of some sort of sports logo.
A ship left the River Tees, followed by the Pilot's boat.
The boat would pick up the Pilot once the ship was safely in open water.
Shingle strips crossed the beach as they continued south.
There were a number of dead lobsters scattered around.
Beach Buoy gathered some beach stones.
They headed up the sandy slope.
"Morning Mate."
He added stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He plonked himself on a large stone at the seaward side of the stack.
Coffee time.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog sat as The Sea Serpent twisted to the sound of the Skylarks above the dunes.
Beach Buoy stood up... eventually.
A one man 7 a.m. club had arrived just in front of Stubborn Dog Stack, down on the beach below.
Beach Buoy joined him on the beach.
It was 6-29 a.m.
They chatted about the dead lobsters and possible causes.
Beach Buoy gave Mari the big friendly poodle a neck scratch.
The gentleman took out a beach clean bag hoop and placed a rubbish bag inside the hoop.
Off he headed to the north beach cleaning as he went with his three dogs for company.
Beach Buoy stayed put a while, watching The Sea Serpent.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog began a slow walk back, their pace in complete contrast to the Sand Martins that were flying here, there and everywhere at great speed.
After a while Beach Buoy paused, he faced the dunes.
He recalled being here many years ago.
He rubbed his open palms onto his face as someone would when washing their face.
It was comforting, letting himself know he was there for him.
They set off for the north once more.
They passed a lady beachcomber and her dog.
The humans and dogs all said "Morning."
"She's only nine months old." added the lady.
Beach Buoy had not seen the lady or the dog before.
Beach Buoy beachcombed as he headed back to the van.
He was lucky enough to find a few nice pieces.
Others were beginning to arrive.
The sea water swimmers were having a pre-swim beach walk.
Beach Buoy headed up the access ramp.
Mr. Gunn/ Nunn was just heading down with his little dog.
"Morning, you look tired."
"I am." answered Beach Buoy.
Beach Buoy looked out onto the Little Tern Area as a kayaker and beach walker both headed south.
The Little Terns are the slightest of birds.
Beach Buoy went to the van.
A motorcyclist was resting on the promenade wall, drinking coffee.
"Thought you would have been away in it? he shouted before heading over for a chat that turned into an hour long discussion.
He had a van too, a T4.
600,000 miles on the clock and good for 110 mph.
They had the vans in common but were as different as chalk and cheese.
They got on well.
"£17 l paid for this coffee."
"What!"
"I had to buy the thermal travel mug with it so l could bring it on the bike."
He went on to say that if he sees a sign saying no overnight camping he will make a point of setting up right next to it.
"Must go." said Beach Buoy when he saw Mr.Gunn/Nunn return from his walk.
It was then he realised how long they had talked.
BEACH BUOY.
