Lady Jade

An old favourite.  Jim Grey, over there in Indiana, posted recently about subjects he photographs again and again.  I had the good fortune to meet Jim for an afternoon recently, since he and his lovely wife Margaret were holidaying (honeymooning) in Ireland.  He came up to The Liberties for the day, to see the Giant's Causeway, Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge and me, of course :)

More of that another day (when I get the film finished that is sitting inside the Nikon).  Where was I?  Oh yes, old favourites.

Here's one:

Lady Jade CE531, moored up in Portstewart Harbour last week.  She'll not be there much longer, methinks - she's hauled up onto dry land for the worst of the winter.  And check out the horizon - Dominican College looks like it's about to take off there in the background.  Rookie mistake - again!

And this is what she's tied up to:

Portstewart Harbour - the in/out part.  Dodgy horizon here too, though no quite as bad.

In the summertime the local teenagers hurl themselves off the rocks and the concrete pier there into the water.  The water's very clean and clear, in spite of the proximity to the harbour.  But then there ain't that many boats going in and out and the swell is usually pretty big, so any fuel spillage is quickly dissipated.  There's a few barriers up these days for 'Elf&Safety but as you can see there's still plenty of opportunity for accidents.  I was a little nervous, I have to admit, being so close to the water, since I'm none to steady on the feet at times and there was a fair wind blowing that day, as I recall.  But I survived to blog another day, though whether or not that's a good thing may be a moot point.

When I was young, we were never encouraged to go out on the water, in boats or not.  Looking back, my parents were confirmed land-lubbers, in spite of the fact there is water all around us.  I remember The Brother getting into water-skiing at a time and a wet-suit was acquired.  Now this would have been around 1971 or so and wet-suit technology ain't what it is today, dear readers.  No, this particular wet-suit was a DIY one, so mum had to stitch it together and then apply some sort of tape over the stitching.  I assume she was hoping that this was another fad that wouldn't last...and truth be told, it didn't, although that might have had something to do with the quality of the wet-suit than anything else.  I have a vague recollection of 'having a go' at water-skiiing...we didn't have a boat (obviously) but we knew people who did.  So I strapped the ski-things on and held onto the rope thing and someone shouted 'Hit It!' and I tried to stand up on the skis.  Twice, I think - maybe three times.  Unsuccessfully.  I stuck to cameras and dry land after that.

Thinking about the snap above reminded me of one of the few times I was out in the open sea in a boat when I was young.  I'd volunteered to go out in order to photograph a local dingy sailing competition.  Seemed like a good idea - as things do when you are in your early teens.  On the boat, all was good for a time - it was great, actually.  But then we anchored up as the dingys sailed around us.  And the sea was particularly heavy, I can remember.  And then I started feeling a little queasy...and then a lot.  Now I have pretty good sea legs but back then, anchored up in the middle of Portstewart Bay in a heavy swell it was a different matter.  Needless to say I have absolutely no snaps whatsoever to show of that particular event...

Dominicans

Regular visitors to this place will be familiar with this view of Dominican College, which dominates the little seaside town of Portstewart.  It was once the home of Captain Henry O'Hara, who built it in 1834.  The Dominican Order acquired it in 1917 - the local Chapel, The Star of the Sea having been built a year earlier.

This should be called the Disappearing Beach, as sometimes it's there and sometimes not.  We're heading towards winter, which usually means high seas in this part of the world.  And that means little or no beach, since it is usually covered in kelp or rocks which the sea gives up.  The Hound loves this beach, though, since he gets to work out his stress by ripping the kelp to tiny pieces.

So the school is heading towards is Centenary next year and there are lots of events planned - musical evenings, sports events, art and even photography exhibitions.  It's a thriving wee community, Dominican College is and has a real family atmosphere to it - a reflection of Portstewart itself, I guess.

While the College has a very mixed Protestant/Catholic student body nowadays, it is part of the Dominican Order.  The Order stretches back a little farther than the school itself, having been founded in 1216, which if my maths is correct, would be 800 years ago.   I suspect there wasn't much happening around these parts 800 years ago - Portstewart wasn't really founded until the 18th Century.  We're all just newcomers, really, as we pass through.

View from the West.  The coastal walk starts in Portstewart and winds up and around the rock cliffs towards Portstewart Strand.  It's lovely at any time of the year.  This shot was taken at Port-na-Happle, where there is little open bathing pool which is used most times nowadays by the local sub-aqua club.

I'm walking here

A shot from graduation day at Queen's, Belfast.  I sat on the wall and held the camera on my lap, pressing the shutter when someone walked past.  A bit hit or miss, I agree.

Not sure what the artefact is behind her foot - some gremlin introduced either on the neg or in the scanner.  Pretty good leg extension on the younger model.  The older model has lost a bit there, as you can see.  I like studying people's gaits - not having a particularly good one myself.  I seem to have spent half my life talking about gait in one physiotherapy department or another, but that's the way it goes.  Could be worse, eh?

This was just outside the front entrance to the Uni.  Families milling about, all dressed up for the occasion:

Watching cow watching me

Missy went to speak to the cows the other day...there's two big ones and two calves that wander about the fields next to us.  The Hound keeps them in check though, reminding them at every opportunity that the garden is strictly off-limits for bovines.

They are rather lovely creatures.

The one in front there decided to move off just as I snapped her up, hence the rather strange posture.  Clearly she's camera-shy.

Missy was out talking to them a very long time and was very excited at being able to pat them, although when one tried to lick her phone she got a bit worried.  They're easily spooked though - they don't like sudden movements.  Being an observant sort, she drew my attention to the fact that one was wearing an ear-cam:

You can just see the ear-cam on her right ear.  Interesting, huh?

Gorey

Gorey was a nice enough wee place on the island of Jersey.  Nice, kind of old-fashioned in a sense of nothing really there apart from an old castle, nice beach and loads of restaurants&cafes.  Sounds OK when you put it like that, I suppose.

Our lunch venue at Gorey.  The Specials Board gives it all away, really...Fresh Oyster this, Whole Crab that - and everything with Jersey Royal Potatoes.  And I know - I cut the top of Missy's head off.  From the look of things this was the 21mm lens attached to the rangefinder which was sitting on the table.

Things are slowly getting back to normal at home, by the way.

Patterns

Patterns in the sand - taken a while ago and printed a while ago too.  They look toned as well, sepia most likely but can't quite remember now.  I might even have posted them before, truth be told.  Hard to believe but this place passed its second birthday a couple of days ago.  For those of you still listening, thanks for stopping by.

You'd think by now I'd have something decent to talk about, eh?  And show.

Portstewart Strand, or part of it.  On Kentmere paper I suspect and some Ilford film.

Posts might be few and far between for the next wee while, on account of the fact that Mrs NE Liberties finds herself inside the local hospital, hooked up to various monitors and drips and what-have-you.  Gallstones.  Very painful ones.  And an infection/fever to match, which they have to get under control before they decide what do with the stones.  So camera&darkroom work has not been foremost in my mind this last week - making sure Missy gets to school with a clean uniform and that there is food on the table in the evening has been, along with trips back and forth to the hospital.  Where's Mrs Doubtfire when you need her?

You'll understand, I know, if all I get to do is post the odd snap from The Archives for a week or two.

Another one of sand patterns, from Portstewart again.  Apparently it's just been named 'Best beach in the UK'.  Well, of course we all knew that already - right? :)

Auld Boys

Auld boys, on the flutes:

and younger ones:

It would be hard to miss either of those two groups walking down the road, even on the 12th.