'Ere San 'owd me chips!

Unfortunately another day off the water, this time in sunny Filey.
It rained hard and blew throughout the night but my little Vango took it in it's stride. I awoke to find George Maskell sat in his shiny new van in the car park. I'd clumsily damaged my Primus/Trangia stove and though it had been soldiering bravely on I wanted to replace it for piece of mind; I'd also recently damaged a tent pole. So Summit to Sea had rapidly arranged replacements and George had driven through the night from Anglesey to get the kit to me. Bloomin'eck George - that's beyond the call of duty! A serious thankyou for that, sorry to get grass cuttings all over your nice new van!
We had breakfast in the cafe and headed down to the water to take a look, but things didn't look good. So George hit the road once again and I headed over to the headland to check conditions further.
N and E of the Brigg things looked unpleasant, the swell and wind combined to make a chaotic maelstrom of spray and chop. The Brigg casts a long shadow; the bay was fairly sheltered but the vis didn't help to judge conditions further out - one of those 'The Buck stops here' days, only I could make the decision. Though I often wish someone would do it for me. Flamborough Head is about 5-6 miles away, now and then I could make out the spray making a creditable effort to climb the cliffs, that swung it - for an hour or two at least.
Later I ventured out again tempting the tide to cut me off on the Brigg (I could see the headline: "Stupid canoeist can't read tide tables - lifeboat man says 'what a tit!'") but things weren't much different. I watched a family sailing in the bay, they seemed to be having fun hoofing around in the sporting conditions - though I gather the surf landing didn't quite go to plan. It can be a bit of a bugger that surf you know.
They were also kind enough to provide me with some cord to replace my worn bow toggle - too much dragging, sorry Mike!
I wandered down to take a look at Filey; a very British seaside resort of contrasts. I didn't get the chance to see Scarborough so I took the chance to wander around Filey.
Outside 'Funland' I overheard a young woman complaining about how usually Charlottes birthday party takes place out in the garden in the sunshine, not this year though, they were freezing their bits off. Poor Charlotte I thought - but tell me about it...

Later I watched the light flashing on Flamborough Head as it lured me like a siren. Not tonight I thought; but I have to go soon - the arse of my trousers is getting shiny from sitting in the cafe too much.
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