This blog has moved....

i have moved this blog.

if you want to see the posts about ethnomusic, folk music, small pipes, border pipes, music in spain, sweden etc etc. all things to do with folk music go to this site:
 https://ethnopiper.wordpress.com

if you want to see my videos and blog about kayaking and sailing go to this site:
https://hurleyfelicity.wordpress.com/

if you want to see my new blog about punk music in carlisle go to this site:  https://carlislepunkbands.wordpress.com

Removable Drone Stocks

I completed 2 drone stocks for my “workshop pipes” (2 drone holes are drilled at the top of the stock).

If you need to take the drones out of the stock the top part of the stock is removable, the drones stay still and the drone reeds are protected, the bottom stock is fixed snug into the bag via the grove.
The drone stock (lying down) has a smaller hole drilled into its bottom end for air to pass through, this reduces the size of the air hole to stop any drone reeds falling out of the drone seat into the bag; if this happens the top part is removed and the reeds retrieved.

The bellows are finally taking shape to what I imagined. They have studs around the edges for cosmetic purposes, the bellow’s fabric matches the fabric of the bag (different fabric can be sort to the buyers choice).
The shape of the bellows were sourced from a Musette’s bellow I had seen in the National School of Piping’s museum in Glasgow, I thought the design was unusual yet attractive.
The straps have a quick release and adjustable clasp. The bellows have a hinge attachment inside of the cheeks this gives a solid connection. The bellows are completely airtight, they are large enough for NSP and SSP as well as Border Pipes, as they are large less action is needed to inflate the bag.

Although the chanter and drones are still under design, the bag and bellows are beginning to be finalized.

Small Pipe Workshop in Hexham

The Small pipe workshop went really well last Saturday in Hexham (Northumbria). The students engaged with the exercises very well and I think got a lot out of it…well I know they did. I got good feedback from them and the boss of Core Music, who ran the event. I would like to do more events there, and do a follow up workshop for the Small pipes, as I feel the students wanted to go further with their playing. They managed to get a regular bellow technique; they got 2 drones in harmony and the beginnings of a steady chanter note, not bad for 3 hours. Northumbrian/closed fingering was popular; I guess Scottish Small pipe fingering is more popular over the border. If lessons could be held regular then I feel they could advance quickly.

Sailing on the Solway...only just!

The plan was to spend 4 days sailing on the Solway estuary, to try out sailing techniques and get used to the new sails, but the plans were to change due to the lack of wind.

I left the mooring at Port Carlisle on the flood tide, but there was so little wind the tidal eddy was pulling me near to the harbor wall, I did not want to start the motor (only in emergencies) I wanted to use the wind to get me passed it. The wind blew just enough to pass the mouth of the harbor and I missed the stone structures and the shingle, but only just; then I entered the tidal eddy on the other side of the harbor which pulled me into the main channel and out into the middle of the estuary. There the wind died, also the ebbing tide started to take me towards Bowness-on-Solway.

I wanted to anchor at Bowness, but there was insufficient wind to take me into the bay, I started the motor but it was not enough to pull me free from the ebbing tide, which was fast taking me onwards, passed the viaduct and towards the masts at Anthorn.

The tide was ebbing fast and I knew there was a lot of sand and shallow water to anchor in when the new flood returns. I wanted to get into shore as much as possible out of the path of the Solway Bore (it was coming in high as the tides were 8 meter in height at Silloth and this brought the bore up the estuary).
I tested the depth of the water beneath Sadaf by using a pole, it quickly became shallow and I was a long way from shore, I slowly edged my way towards the shore using the remaining wind. When the keels touched sand I tacked as much as I could into the breeze so to have a shelter for the evening.

As Sadaf dried out I noticed a slight tilting of the hull, this was normal as the keels sink a little into the soft sand. I got out of my wet suit, I did some things in the cabin, when I came out I noticed more titling of the boat. As the water ebbed she titled more and when the sand was visible I saw Sadaf has come to rest in a channel, hard sand was all around, but her keels had rested in a channel that was carrying the ebbing tide out to sea.

I quickly noticed a problem, I could see her keels clearly now. On the starboard side her keel and middle stub was on firm sand, but the rudder and port keel was in the soft sand of the channel, the ebbing sand was taking the soft sand away faster than what was replaced, her keel was not finding compacted sand to rest upon. As the water raced down the channel the sand went with it and Sadaf’s keel sank deeper into the channel’s bed, it was like quicksand she only stopped sinking when the hull had touched the sand and the channel has dried out to a trickle.

Sadaf was healing badly, her gunwale was close to the sand and I was afraid when the flood returned it would gush over the side and into the cockpit, flooding the boat and she would not able to refloat. I tied the anchor warp to her side and hoped it would slow the tilting of the hull. The starboard keel had now slid onto the soft sand too.

As time went on, I had to make a decision whether to stay with her or to leave her for the night. I could not enter the cabin to eat or to rest, I was afraid the added weight would push her further into the soft sand. Night was coming on and I would be sitting about waiting for midnight and the flood to return.

I had visions of her lying on her side while I was there clinging to the mast when the tide returned in pitch darkness. It was a choice I did not make lightly, but I decided to leave her and return to shore and home. I need food anyway (I was going to get it from Annan) and maybe I could get some sleep and return in the morning to either a flooded hull or a righted boat. I set the anchor so if she did refloat she would lift and land on hard sand after the ebb, also I attached my inflatable dinghy to her port side to give added buoyancy when the flood came, attaching rope to the starboard side underneath the hull to the port side so the dinghy would hold its position. I tidied the cabin as much as possible and stored gear. I put away a lot of the sailing equipment and closed the cabin.

Before I left for the night I went to see what I thought were fishing nets in the middle of the channel. As I got closer I noticed they were wooden posts about 10-12ft high, arranged in rows forming something like a “X” design in the sand. I thought perhaps they were left over from the war, used as makers for bombing exercises? Or perhaps they are salmon stakes left over from the seasons fishing? These posts were new; the water had not begun to rot the wood. I remembered a conversation I had with someone from Annan telling me of an “art installation” what was in the main channel and that it was not buoyed or marked in anyway. This must have been it! What great art, to see ones boat impaled and the crew clinging for their lives in mid channel, it being pitch dark or swirling seas, or just a post through the hull and the water gushing in, maybe kids are aboard? What stupidity.

No wonder no one sails in these waters. I have sailed this channel a few times and maybe I have passed over these posts… or just missed them. I returned to the boat, feeling that these waters are not as safe as I once thought, not because of nature, but because of human’s stupidity.

I had with me my fold-away bike, but this had a flat tire (just my luck). I had to quickly blow up the back tire, walk the bike over the sand and then find a way through the moor, bog and gorse to the road.  By this time it was dark, I was tired, hungry (I had had only breakfast) and was worried about the boat, I had a 15 mile cycle ride after I had fixed my puncture. I fixed the puncture but it went down again, in the same spot, I would have to walk home. I started to blow up the tire again, hoping to get on the bike and ride like mad before it deflated, but after a few inflations to my surprise I noticed it was not deflating any longer, perhaps the pressure of the bike had closed the hole and the glue had set? It stayed inflated and I made it home, ate and went straight to bed.

I did not sleep much, logically I knew I had a 50% change of Sadaf refloating, but I felt that I had lost her to the sea, not a nice feeling. I awoke at 6.30am, ate and cycled with my normal bike back to Sadaf, I did not take any food with me as I thought if she was flooded I would need all the space to unpack my things and take what I could home on the bike, so I took only a packed lunch and some tea.

When I got there I was relieved, as there Sadaf was sitting on her keels, on hard sand where I had hoped she would be, attached to her anchors. She would live to fight another day.

I had a couple of hours before the flood so I set all the sails and gear ready to get underway.

In the distance I heard the Solway Bore approaching, and then I saw it coming on the Scottish side of the estuary, white surf doubled over each other, I was pleased I had not grounded in the way of the Bore, as that surf would certainly have entered the cockpit and probably broken the sunken keels off the hull.

As I was quite far from the bore I watched the sea gently come up the channel and reach the boat.

I had set the grapnel anchor just below the hull so not to get it snarled on the keels, and as the sea lifted the stern and floated, I fed out the warp to hold Sadaf fast until there was enough water underneath her. Then I lifted the anchor and set the sails. It is very hard to tell the direction one is going with no wind, the flood tide is not going east, it is moving south (towards the shore) but at the same time it is moving east, and then nearer to shore there is the tidal eddy which is moving west. One thing I noticed about this water is that there is not much still water, as soon as the tide is fully in, it starts to ebb, and then one is fighting a strong current.

I had made perhaps 1 mile, before I started to be pulled back with the ebb, the wind had died, and I was again using the motor to get me east and also trying to get close to the shore to reduce the pull of the tide. I found the 4 hours, until she dried out, very frustrating. In total I had achieved 200 meters, I could still see the wooden posts sticking out of the sands. The good news was I had not landed in a channel (I had checked before she dried out).

Looking at a great sunset I later cycled home to get food. After the sun set came a red moon, a wonderful sight.

The next day I was ready to sail with hope I would get past the viaduct. But the same thing happened again, the flood took me so far and the ebb brought me back to where I had been for the past 2 nights, I could see the ebbing tide pulling me back and my motor could not fight it. In fairness the electric motor is only for getting me to shore if there was no wind (like now) but it was not for fighting one of the strongest tidal flows in the UK. Also the batteries were getting weaker each day; even after charging them via the solar panels they were not fully charged. I was using 2 car batteries a day trying to fight the ebb, each day less power were stored in them so I was getting less hours of usage.

In frustration, I did what I had said I would never do again, and that is get out of the boat and pull Sadaf against the ebb. I dropped the anchor and waited until the ebb was shallow enough up to waist height. I had my wet suit on; I jumped out and pulled Sadaf (it is easier to put the grapnel anchor over the bows and walk backwards, and if you get too deep you can always hang onto the bows) for about 1 mile. The sands were uneven and I suddenly got up to my chest in water, I back tracked and slowly edged into shore, then I was up to my thighs and she dried out.

When the tied was fully out I saw I had crossed a channel and then walked up the other bank. I was quite close to the viaduct and opposite the mouth of Annan Harbor. It is tiring fighting the ebb, but I had made progress and I was closer to the main channel and therefore I had a chance of reaching it before the ebb started the next day. I also thought if I could do this with the last of the next ebb (4am) I would get even closer to the channel and the viaduct. I knew once passed the viaduct I could either get into Bowness, or continue onto Port Carlisle, but the thought of wading through water in the darkness did not excite me very much.

After a beautiful sunset I slept on the boat that night. At 1am the water reached Sadaf, she lifted fast. I went to the anchors to check they were not fouling the keels (I had weighted the warps, but you never know) or lifting out, the pull of the channel was strong on the warps. There was light by the moon and I could see the swell as the channel rebounded off the viaduct walls. Seeing the flood tide at night is a surreal effect, it is moving so fast, speeding, everything is triple speed, not so in the day light, but the night light has a different effect on the tides.

The wind had risen from the east (finally some wind), it would be a lee shore but most of the waves were reduced because of the viaduct. I laid back and tried to sleep, but could not. About 3am Sadaf began to rock violently on the ebbing tide, I thought the lee shore was making itself felt, but as I peered out I saw there were large swells coming from the mouth of the viaduct, perhaps there were accented by the night light, but they were rocking Sadaf in all directions. I was alone in the middle of the night being thrown about the cabin with only an anchor warp stopping me from going out to the Irish Sea…a strange thought. I was sleeping in one of the side bunks, but I moved my bed onto the floor to give the boat more center ballast. After half an hour she had settled down, and I slept until dawn, no night walks that night!

Time passes fast; there is always things to do, eating, tidying, preparing etc. then the tide domes again, relentless. With only a breath of wind I waited until Sadaf floated, I had dug in the Bruce anchor as well as the grapnel would have being pulled out with the force of the flood, and who knows where I would have ended up? When the tide race had passed I pulled up the Bruce anchor and stowed it, then brought up the grapnel, I started the motor immediately I wanted to get into the channel as soon as possible to make the most of the flood tide.

I was edging towards the viaduct, and then my first battery failed. I had my Genoa up and it was just flapping loosely. I quickly changed my battery and switched it on. Nothing! No power, I tried a few times and it sparked into life. I had lost some ground and I was quite close to the viaduct wall, I could see the flood tide swirling around its loose stones. I was too far down and I was being pulled into the wall, not passed it. I tacked Sadaf, so she pointed up channel and hoped she would ferry glide passed the wall. The little motor giving all she could and a slight breeze filling the Genoa, I was edging closer to the wall but also ferry gliding out into the main channel. I had made it. I cut the motor as soon as I passed the wall and put my tiller over so Sadaf spun round and headed down channel, the only movement now was from the flood tide, I had no motor or wind powering me, and I sped along. The swirling tide and eddies all effected direction but I used the rudder to stay pointing down channel. I quickly passed Bowness, and I was soon approaching the harbor wall of Port Carlisle, what a relief to have made it so far, and yet it was not a great distance.

At the harbor I noticed a tidal eddy and what looked like an ebbing tide, had the tide started to ebb already? One moment I was speeding down channel and now it looked like I was to be sped up channel. I did not want to get pulled back so I started the motor and the little electric I had left propelled me (or tired to propel me) passed the harbor wall. But the eddy/ebb was not letting me pass it, with no wind to help I saw staying still…gaining no headway, or was I? I was getting further away from the harbor, it was still the flood tide, but it was going backwards! Suddenly my sails sprang into life, my Main and Genoa was full and I was pulling away from the harbor towards my mooring. The first time in 4 days I was sailing!

Even though I had lost a lot of ground going with the flood tide, the eddy was pulling me back towards the harbor. The closer I got to the shore, the stronger the eddy got. It is an amazing tide, so powerful; it is like sailing in a river that is in flood. But it is my sailing area and I knew its waters well enough. The closer I reached my buoy the more I had to head away from it, up channel. The wind stayed with me, and let the grapnel anchor go and we floated down to rest just beside the buoy.

I set the Bruce anchor and I rested on the hull and fell asleep in the sun. Before Sadaf dried out I tried to retrieve the buoy by motoring to it, but there was no more power in the battery, so I jumped out and secured the buoy to Sadaf manually.
I packed most of the things away, and then I had a 2 mile walk in the dark for my bike that was locked to a tree passed the viaduct. I slept on Sadaf that night and woke the next morning to think fog;

I was lucky enough to get some power out of my solar panels and managed to get some electric into my depleted batteries. I left for home as the tide came again.

Reading Lolita in Tehran, by Azar Nafisi

I am just beginning listening to an audio book called, “Reading Lolita in Tehran” by Azar Nafisi. It is the 2nd time I am attempting this book, the first time was when I was corresponding with an Iranian friend who lived in Tehran at the time. She raised objections to the book (I am not sure if she had read it) and I put it away as it caused her some anxiety. Now I feel I can look at it again and listen to it with new ears.

It is not as bad as what my friend was saying; in fact the author says that the book “Lolita” by Vladimir Nabokov, is not a symbol for the Islamic Republic of Iran. Since I have just started this book I am not sure how the book Lolita fits in with her narrative of Iran or her students whom she is teaching, but time will tell. It is her own personal impressions of Iran, her students which have been turned into a novel.

Since my first attempt at “Reading Lolita in Tehran”, I have met other Iranians and have gotten to know life in Iran from several different perspectives, and I find that listening to this book I am finding out that what the book says and what my friends say are not to dissimilar. I mean, there are similarities even though one is a book’s description and another is someone’s memories. Both have a love of “Iran” and a critique of the system, I find nothing distasteful with this. To look at a country through rose coloured spectacles is not healthy and it can be quite naive to think a country can be idealized to “others” at the same time being distasteful to ones life, this is not an honest representation.

We shall see the book develops...
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As I read further, I can begin to see other aspects of the authors writing. She is writing the book in the USA, she is remembering Iran, and she is remembering her life in the USA with occasional references to her life in the USA today. It is all mixed up, it is not a narrative telling a story of events in any order, and it flits from books to life to memories to countries.

The events in Iran during her time there are obviously bad memories: the invasion into her home from the “police” is thought provoking, but is it so different than the British police breaking down your door in the early morning on a police raid (guilty until proven innocent?), is she saying that these intrusions into ones home only happen in Iran or in any totalitarian state? She is not including USA or the UK or any other “western democratic country”?

She is obviously bitter to what happened to her father as Mayor of Tehran, but does not corruption exist in all politics? These things are not solely in Iran. The incarceration of the group of women in the north of Iran is harrowing reading, and the virginity tests they are subjected too made me feel “sad and angry” but after a while it becomes a catalogue of disturbing events... and I find myself becoming numb to it all.

Where is the alternative side of Iranian life? She must have experienced some happiness there? I know in totalitarian regimes there are still hope and laughter, friends and ways of finding happiness.

Her bags are searched in the airport as she enters Iran from the USA, well has she never been to Manchester airport and the rough way they handle delicate belongings like musical instruments?

She has been subjected to political activism in the 1960s/70s in the USA, she is radicalized and she is transporting that radicalism to Iran... why is she so sure Iran wants that radicalization? So many Ex-pats think they know better than the people who live there!

It is a book of contradictions, and the subject matter of her novels...it is a layered cake of pessimism, I wonder where she is going with it? Her book is like the regime she is condemning (even though she claims not to) negative and dark, perhaps one sided and it needs a bit of lighter moments to make it believable.

In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust.

(Or as I remember it, in Carlisle library when I was a teenager, “Remembrance of Things Past).

“Swan’s Way” the first book…

I have been trying this audio book for 1 week, I am struggling with it. It reminds me of Flaubert “Madame Bovary” with its mundane talk, its stillness, lack of movement, detail to detail. My God, how he goes into detail, flowery, in depth, precise analytical descriptions. And for all that it is brilliant, if you can bare all that then it takes you into another world, a secure world like he is describing of its time. His childhood, his adulthood, his family and servants, friends and environment is all minutely described and this paints pictures in one’s head, you can enter and live it, if you are also in that frame of mind.

And that’s the problem; in this day and age we are not always in that state of mind; as it paints a picture of a static society not a movable one, as is ours today. It is like a painting hanging in a gallery where we stop and look into it, it is not like a video where we stop and it moves and passes us by. You have to enter into it or it is a nothing. So sometimes I struggle with it as I am not in that static state of mind.

I looked into this book when I was a teenager but when I saw the many volumes on the shelves I did not bother with it, I am pleased I never tackled it then as I certainly would not have continued with it, but now I will keep going, it is not a book where I can linger though, but I do appreciate its prose and descriptions.

The L Shaped Room (film and novel)

Last night I watch the film called “The L Shaped Room”, directed by Bryan Forbes from 1960. I had read the novel a while ago, the same title as the film written by Lynne Reid Banks, and wanted to compare the two. The book I had picked up in a market from Eccles many years ago I had not heard of it before but reading the back of the cover I was intrigued.

The film differed from the book, often the film is poorer than the book but I think the film brought to life certain aspects that the book hinted at, and the film became a separate creation. The leading heroine is French in the film and English in the novel, why? Well, I guess it brought up certain aspects of “foreign-ness” the war was mentioned, adding something to past and the now (1960). The negro character had a strange role in the film he is hinted as being gay, but I would say he is more A-sexual, as though a negro cannot be allowed to feel any sex or to listen to it, or have a relationship except for his gift with music.

The men in the film are either drunks, sexual predators, or in the main characters weak and unsuccessful. The writer cannot sell his novels, he backs away from responsibilities, he wants sex but not commitment, although he tries he cannot accept the baby, which is not his… at least this is honesty. In the book the heroine is English, pregnant, does not enjoy sex, independent minded… all complex characters. All living in a house which is odd… the L shaped room indicates all is not “straight” sexuality, jobs, relationships, etc.


There are 2 other books from this novel: "The Backward Shadow", and "Two is Lonely" I must track them down.

Byocycle City Speed Review (storing, keys and punctures)

During the summer I finally used the bike for what I first intended, which is to cycle from home to the boat, rig the boat, sail, and de-rig the boat and cycle home. I had hoped the electric bike would save my energy to do all this, as I was having trouble on my normal bike.

 On a couple of occasions I cycled to the boat and folded it down, carrying it onto the boat and placing it into one of the side berths. The boat is 20ft, she has a cabin and although small it is enough to sleep and cook and store things. I strapped down the wheels and handle bars to the frame so it would not come undone (I wish the design would allow this to happen, there is no fixings to hold her fast once folded down), then strapped her to the boat so the bike would not fall over. There the bike sat until I had finished sailing. When finished I took the bike back to shore and assembled it again and cycled back. This time I used the throttle power more to give my legs a rest.

On one occasion I lost the key to the battery. I could not find it anywhere. All I could do was to cycle home using the gears. It was not so bad, taking it easy I did not notice the added weight too much. But another question arose “where to get another key cut?” When I asked in the shops in Carlisle they asked me what sort of key it is used for. So they were not used to its size or thickness. One shop quoted me more as it was an “electric bike”; finally I found a replacement for 6 pounds for 1 key. The bike came with 2 keys, and another fault (?) with the design is that once you have taken the key out of the battery where do you put it? You have to leave the key in the battery while riding so to have a key ring dangling is not good due to it catching on something. To have it with other keys is not practical as you have to remove it each time from the bunch. It would be better to have it on the bike attached to the seat (?) as you have to remove the seat to get the battery out. I am sure I lost the key in this process as I had to dismantle the seat and battery from the bike, therefore leaving the key loose.

Another question which arose recently was that I got a puncture in my back wheel. I am not sure if it was a puncture from the hedge cutting on the country roads, or if it was a fault in the inner tube as the back wheel was always going flat if I left it a couple of days. Perhaps over the weeks the pressure had made the hole big enough to cause the bike to go down quicker. Half way home I noticed the bike to be sluggish, I used the throttle more than normal and it got me home with 3 lights showing (normally I get home with 4 lights on the battery). The bike also felt unsteady due to the lack of pressure in the tire. I thought I had to take the back wheel off and realized what to do about the motor and its wiring? I mailed the shop where I had ordered it and their response was very helpful, offering to ring me back and offer assistance. In short I had to unplug the wiring on the back wheel and then take the wheel off as normal. In the end I did not take the back wheel off, I disconnected the brakes and slipped the inner tube out, found the hole and repaired it. So there is 2 puncture patches on the back wheel so far.

On many of my trips to the boat I have been taking lots of extra gear and food, the panniers where full and heavy. The bike handled well with the added weight, so no problems there.

The Summer is Over...Long live the Autumn

One could say the “summer is over” all activities seem to have stopped and I find myself being “back at work” which for me is making small-pipes and busking. But I can still write about the various activities I have done over a month or so, some of which were a welcome change: a travel to Orkney (a birthday present to myself); sailing once more after a period of 3 years; going to Piping Live 2015 in Glasgow; and a trip to the Isle of Arran (my last visit was when I was 21, a few moons ago!), and where my small laptop got a wash in seawater and decided not to work again (the laptop I had used on many of my previous blog entries R.I.P.)

There was a new insight into my electric bike which I will add to the review blog. I will be reworking my Dinghy Cruising Association articles for the blog, as I think they could be of some use to those who wish to cruise the Solway Estuary.

Over the next few days/weeks I will be writing several blogs on these topics and others too, such as: folk sessions; a new Small-pipe workshop which will be in October; and unintentionally learning an old instrument, the recorder! An instrument I hated when I was at school, but I find myself starting again.

So the summer might be over but let’s look forward to the autumn!

Cummersdale Folk Session

It was the Cummersdale Folk Session last night, a slow start due to the lack of instrumentalists, but it livened up later on with nice sets played on the whistle. I played more concertina this week, some tunes with the other players: Jimmy Allan, Salmon Tails, Saddle the Pony, Miss Thompsons Hornpipe, Bollavogue, Boys of the Blue Hill, the tune to Captain Pugwash! But I mainly played the bodhran which I am enjoying a lot.

Instruments present were: guitar, whistles, wooden flute, banjo, metal flute, 2 English concertinas, and bodhran.

I am practicing other tunes: the Hawk, Minstrels Fancy, Random, Sheffield Hornpipe, Humours of Tulleycrine, Redesdale Hornpipe, Whinsheilds Hornpipe, and Whinham’s Reel.

Byocycle City Speed Review (update)

It’s been about 9 months since I got the electric bike and I have learned a few things from riding it. The first is not to treat it like a normal bike, it is not. The weight and size of its wheels make it a very poor bike compared to a full size racer or touring bike with 700 wheels. But it is a great bike and if you use it in a certain way it is just as good.

I use the different systems as gears; I use the systems for different tasks:

The gears can be used as normal, but I rarely go onto the 1st or 6th gear. I use gears on the flat, on the top of a hill, on the descent, when I am climbing using the pedal system, but I do not use gears all the time, the bike is too heavy for that.

The pedal system is the most used while riding. It adds to the cycling, the motor and the cycling leave the legs without stress or tiredness. While going uphill I have it on and it is like being pushed, on a long flat piece of road I use it to make the head wind a little easier to cycle against. I rarely have it on ‘medium’ or ‘high’, I use it in ‘low’ mostly. I use the gears 2-4 depending on the hill, if it is a long hill I use a lower gear.

The throttle system, I use sparingly, I get bored sitting there not doing anything. I use it on flats, when my legs are tired, when I am peddling and I want a bit of help. I use it to get over busy roads fast, or to get passed a bit of road which I do not want to be on. I use it to coast along, to move but not to speed.

All these systems are used in a cycle of about 25 miles round trip; sometimes I get off and walk up the bigger hills to use different muscles in my legs. The battery is still on ‘3 lights’ when I am finished.

I can pack it into my boat, and I intend to use it on some camping holidays later this year.

Of course there are disadvantages, one being the size of the wheels makes you pedal faster, but this can be solved by better technique. My tires keep on deflating I am not sure if this is due to the weight or a leaking valve, but I am blowing the tires up every other day. I do not know how to change the back inner tube due to all the electrics or where to oil the motor parts… there were no instructions for this.

Lake District on my 50th Birthday

My 50th birthday was turning out to be a depressing day. I had not found anyone to spend it with and I was seeing that as a reflection of my current position in life. “50, alone, friendless...” not a good beginning. I had decided to go off to the Lake District to walk to Watlendeth and have a coffee at the farm house coffee shop; the walk is always nice if you get off at Rothswaite walk over the tops into the valley of Watlendeth. A bus to Keswick then another to Rothswaite by using the North West Explorer Ticket is still good value.

My walk was still in a negative mood, the weather was not brilliant and the people I met were all coupled. Having my coffee was not much better; everyone seemed to be with someone and all talking about children, relations, and friends. I decided it is better to be alone than to spend it with others as one can feel lonely in a crowd. 

I changed my route and retraced my steps not choosing the easier flatter option to Ashness Bridge and Surprise View. When I got to the top of the pass I decided to change my route again and go off the path into the hills. It was a little like a fairy story of going into the “magical forest” my mood began to change, I began to be happier, I began to take pleasure in getting my boots dirty, in noticing the beauty around me, I was alone but not lonely.

I took videos and photos I sank into the bog; I slipped over long grass and scrambled over rocks. The view was different; no longer the same route I often take, my perspective was changing.

Later, I regained the path and descended to Rosthwaite, but then I took another path one I had not been on before. A less used path through trees and high ferns.

 I video emptiness, the magical forest was indeed magical a stillness and beauty with the richness of the colour. I was heading back to Keswick but it felt like in a different country.

I got to the road but then I decided to go another route again this time I did not know where I was going. I climbed, and when I fork came, on the disused track, I took the higher path. 

It ascended sharply, was it an old shepherds track or a sheep path, it was certainly unused. I walked through high ferns, often the path disappeared underneath the grasses. It went higher, steeper; the flowers became wilder, colorful.

I thought to turn back as I had to get back for the bus, but again I found myself continuing higher, further way from the road. Sweat was pouring down my face, no water and feeling a little tired, the heat was intense. I was enjoying myself immensely.

the path went up the mountain

I got to a stone wall and saw the path going higher but this was my limit, I knew it. So I turned back and descended the same way. It took me a fraction of the time, soon I found myself by the road and then I detoured off the road to the river. Standing in the cold water splashing myself with water I felt very good, not lonely, not depressed, and only content. I did not need people, I needed to find myself and I had found it that day from going to new places, new routes, and new journeys, it had engaged and interested me.

Cummersdale Folk Session and Folk Monkhill Session

Last week I visited the Cummersdale Session just outside of Carlisle. It used to be my local session, mainly an Irish session, instrumentals dominating. I had not been for a few years and an email from one of the musicians prompted me to go again. I took the concertina and bodhran which I played most of the time. I am no longer able to keep up with the tempo of Irish music; my style has developed into a slower style with more phrasing, so I play bodhran with an occassional melody on the concertina. The instruments which are there generally consist of: flute, whistles, English Concertina, fiddle, Angle Concertina, banjo, bodhran… other musicians sometimes drop in but it is generally an instrumental Irish session and singers are not so often there.

Last night it was the Monkhill Session, just outside of Carlisle. This session is a mixed session with singers and instrumentals taking equal billing. Last night some of the Cummersdale musicians came along and it was a nice mixture of song, instrumentals and a few Irish melodies thrown in too! Generally the instrumentals at Monkhill are a mixture of southern English, Northumbrian, European, and the songs are Border ballads, Scots songs, modern and older, and a few local songs about the Haaf netting fishing which is on the Solway Estuary. It is a relaxed session with no one or no music dominating. The same people go to the Bowness Session on the 2nd Sunday of the month and in both sessions new singers/instrumentalists are welcomed. I play my Northumbrian small pipes as well English concertina and it is nice to have people play along. The instruments which are there are: whistles, guitars, English Concertina, octave mandolin, occasionally a fiddle, bodhran, and Northumbrian small pipes.

Cummersdale and Monkhill (also Bowness on Solway) are small villages with only 1 pub so you can not miss them if you decide to go!
Bowness takes places on the 2nd Sunday of the month
Cummersdale is on the 1st and 3rd Wednesday of the month
Monkhill is not always regular but generally it is the 3rd Sunday of the month…

Busking and Begging

When I finally emerged into the tunnel it was late morning. I had not intended to go playing at all, but I positioned myself underneath the arches, where there is a good echo, and played Northumbrian small pipes. I play to practice, to play melodies; I gave up doing it for money long ago when the money dried up. I keep my brain active by playing all the tunes I know. This is an ever changing format, new tunes come and go and I revise them all the time.

These days I am memorizing Peacocks tunes, I hammer them into my memory by playing them over and over again, busking helps to play them well, as it is a performance, and I have to get it right. It is good to play new tunes, it refreshes the set, and it puts new life into an old rehearsed format. I rework the notes, rhythms, and style. I play them fast, slow and everything between, a reel becomes a hornpipe, a slip jig a jig then becomes a waltz… a hornpipe a slow air… I am free to improvise.

As the morning wore on I noticed out the corner of my eye another busker with a guitar standing at the other end of the tunnel, I cannot hear him, but it is cheeky. Normally a busker would not be down here standing so close, there is not the space for 2 musicians. In fact I have never seen another busker there for many years. No one goes there, it is not a good place to make money and it is dirty and dark. But he was singing with his guitar, moving positions, and stopping a lot. Then he was gone.

After a break at 2pm I went back to play a little more. I get tired from standing, and I play until I cannot stand much longer. After a few minutes I notice a few meters away a man, it is like he is on his holidays with a carrying case and bags. It looks like he is arranging his case, but he sits on the floor and there he stays.
He is homeless, he is begging, he just sits there a few paces away.

What to think? This is not the first time a homeless person has sat in this tunnel while I am playing. On one occasion it was nasty, the person had once threatened to “stick a knife in me” if I came back, and a few days later he had knifed another homeless person in the park. Others have told me to “fuck off”, but only this one had sat. I played on. I noticed a couple of his friends hanging around; a man passed and whispered “careful of your case”. Things where turning serious. I played on. No abuse, no threatening movements only silence, only looking on … waiting. As time went on more lost people where hanging around. The park is well known for homeless people at night.

I was called a “beggar” in the early 80s while playing. Thankfully those days are gone; I think people realize playing music is not an easy thing to do on the streets. And I have only had abuse from drunks and drug addicts this then. I guess some people see me also as a “beggar” as a “homeless person” but I am neither.
In the end I moved off, I had played enough, this man was turning a dirty tunnel into something else… something where music is not welcome. I better quit while I still had pipes to play.

I packed up and passed him. I thought him a fool; he chose a place where he would make no money… I was making it. He could have gone to the other end, but he sat in the dirt and dog piss, where he would make nothing while I was there.  When I passed him he looked at me and I at him, he was the type who did not look after himself, a drunk and waist.er Let’s hope he gets lifted and put into a home… like so many others who had sat in his place. It is cruel to be kind as that is no life for anyone.

 I wandered into the center of town, a large merry-go-round was pumping out music… was this the reason why the other busker had come down to the tunnel, to escape the noise? I heard a brass band playing amongst the noise, then they stopped, a police man had stopped them and told them to move… recorded music is ok but live music is not. They were 5 people from Rumania; they looked confused and lost, wandering off down the street with nowhere to play, it was time to go home.

New (Old) Tunes to Learn

Coming back from Rothbury Folk Festival i set myself a task of learning new tunes. An interest of mine for many years now has been the old manuscripts of the Scottish Borders: Dixon, Peacock, and Bewick.

I have decided to learn these melodies, memorize them and perform them. They are not being played a lot at festivals, the NSP players are choosing other melodies…which are great, but there is anot a balance.
My task is to first lean the A and B parts to all the tunes, then when I have done that to revisit the manuscripts and learn the C and D parts. I know a lot of the tunes already and I know quite a few of the variations, but I have been concentrating too much on the variations and not on learning the basics of the other tunes.

The tunes I have been working on this week are from the Peacock manuscript, trying to source background information and other links connected with it, it has produced some results, mainly I found another manuscript from the borders that I did not know before.

The titles of the Peacock tunes which I am learning for the first time are:
Over the Border, Jockey Stays Long at the Fair, I Saw My Love Come Passing By Me
  .
Tunes which I knew but had forgotten, which I have been revisiting are:
Neil Gows Wife, Sr. Charles Rant, Bonny Mare and I,  and Tulloch Goram

Rothbury Folk Festival 2015

The weekend started on the Thursday before the weekend by going through to Newcastleton, getting up early morning and going to Hexham and playing Northumbrian small pipes for 3 hours in the shopping precinct. Luckily there was not much disturbance and I played ok and got some good responses… always a bit uncertain as Northumbrian pipes in Northumbrian can be a bit like teaching English to the English! Before we left Hexham I visited a music shop (also music co-operative) where I knew they held workshops, I asked about holding my “Small pipe workshop” there, I had a positive response.

Then onto Rothbury Folk Festival, we got there about 5pm set up the tent and headed off for a session in the Queens Head pub. Due to a lot of background noise I opted for the Border pipes tunes.

Saturday was a quick listen to the town pipe band, then the Andy May Trio on the village stage, then off to the piper’s competition in the hall. It was full of people and a good turnout of performers. This year there was Border pipes competition. Listening to the Northumbrian pipers beginners and intermediate performers I noticed a lack of “drone tuning” therefore the pipes sounded horrible “TUNE YOUR DRONES TO THE CHANTER”  it is basic stuff, the judges need to be more strickt about this.

After the duets we headed off to a small room above the Newcastle pub and played a few sets. It was funny really as Border pipers sat in one end of the room and the northumbrian pipers sat in the other end… they did not mix… of course they were friends, but musically there was no common ground. Different tunings (A verses F) loud and soft… except for a few tunes in G (one G border pipe and some had G Northumbrian).

Then off to the Queen’s again for an evening session. This lasted until about 01.30am for me then I wandered off back to the tent. Then a strange thing happened about an hour later I had strong car headlights on my tent, voices calling out “are you in there”. One of my fears in a car/tented campsite is that I get run over by drunken drivers. This seemed to be happening with a car nearly on top of me. I stuck my head out of the tent and there was a police car. They kindly shone a strong beam of light deliberately into my face and asked me “I had seen Andy, who wears a green arm cast?” I replied to the negative. There had been a police helicopter above wakening everyone up and I guess the infrared camera had singled me out as I walked home.

The Sunday was a good small session in the Queen’s lots of varied music and a mixture of styles and instruments and song, I played Northumbrian small pipes more here due to the lack of background noise.
An excellent weekend.

Bowness on Solway Folk Session

A nice evening last night, at the pub session in Bowness on Solway, a reduced crowd due to holidays I guess, but a nice mixture of songs and melodies between the 3 of us.

The young girl who played violin and who also sang border ballads was very good. A guitarist sang songs about Haaf netting and accompanied each of us. I left the pipes at home due to work on the boat, and took my English concertina and played some melodies from Mallorca, Ireland and Northumbria.

There was an audience too that clapped after every tune or song… something which is unusual for us!! A nice session. It starts about 8pm, Sunday evening 2nd Sunday of the month.

Music Software, Notation and Midi Files

I have been working on 2 variations of tunes from the book “The Day It Daws”. By writing out the notation from the book onto “Finale” music notation programme I can hear what it sounds like before I memorize it. The midi file also helps me to memorize the tune by converting it into an mp3 and listening to it via a player.

The 2 variations I am working on at the moment are “The Day Dawes” and “The Day it Dawes” I think both tunes are in the 1500s, but it is a bit confusing in the book to know which tune is being written about, but they are believed to be tunes played by the town pipers.

The other tune is called “Hunts Up” there are 3 variations I am trying out are “”Hunts Up”, “Honsup” and “The Scoth Huntes Suppe” there is another version I will notate also “Scottish Huntsupe”.

These 2 tunes were supposed to be played by the town pipers, the titles are mentioned in literary sources dating from the 16th centuries.

I have notated a few piping books in this way: Dixon’s, Bewick, Peacock, Over the Hills and Far Away. Also parts of the Northumbrian pipers 3rd tune book and the Charlton Memorial Tune book; as well as other music notation from various countries and sources. I put the midi files onto a CD and play them like a music CD, in time the tunes stay in the mind... aids memorization.

It has given me a good insight on how to play these tunes, also for enjoyment. It is an aid to learning passages too as some of the more difficult passages can be broken down and repeated with correct rhythm.

Newcastleton Folk Festival 2015 (review)

I had a different, and in many ways a better festival this year. I did not attend the sessions like I normally do. I found last year a bit frustrating with all the noise (drunks not music) and a lack of places to play (for quieter instruments) all added to me walking aimlessly around. This year was different the organizers had added new venues to the places to play, one was a “quiet room” not in the main square (away from the pubs) but where you could have a tune. Also there were fewer drunks there this year and possibly less musicians (?) so I could find places to play.

I found the marquee empty on a Saturday morning so I played my Northumbrian small pipes, I played and played and slowly people began to sit down, after 2 hours of playing the tent was getting full, a few more musicians arrived and added more… then I left, found another piper and played on the grass (Border pipes and Scottish small pipes) and spoke to some people about the festival, piping and things in general. I met with a Northumbrian piper and had a few tunes together.

The after-hours sessions were great, songs and music, which went on until the early hours (got to bed 3am both nights) and on the Sunday night the “survivors session” we finally got out at 5.30am... and excellent sessions (I even sang while playing the pipes… a rare occasion).

The workshop went well, 10am to 12.30pm was useful to the students and myself (I even got a hug off one of them) what was apparent was the lack of contact the individual pipers had (isolation) and no advice or after care help; something they found the workshop was useful for. After the workshop we chatted and played until about 4pm!

I learn a lot too about my pipes and the adjustments I need to make, but the comments about the pipes were good and positive. I will make some mouth blown pipes too incase they will be needed. I will look for more festivals in the future and other venues to attract the students.

Completed Small Pipes for Newcastleton Folk Festival 2015

There are 7 completed Small pipes for the Newcastleton Folk Festival. I have covered most of the bellows with a fabric except for 2 of them.

Bubinga chanter, cherry and cedar drones. The bellows were donated by a friend this is the only item that I did not make.

Indian Red Wood chanter and drones, the deeper colour on the chanter is due to oiling. The bellows I made in 1994 in Lithuania

Bubinga chanter and drones, cedar wood decoration on drones

Cherry chanter and drones, walnut wood decorations on drones

Bubinga chanter, cherry drones with Indian red wood decorations

Indian red wood chanter and drones, cherry wood decorations on drones, cedar wood decoration on chanter

Cedar chanter and drones, this was the first bagpipe I made in Spain in 2014

An Old Sackpipa at Gagnef 2015

I have just returned from a 10 day trip to Sweden to visit my friend and bagpipe maker Bors Anders, we spoke about many things: making pipes, publicizing and developing Swedish bagpipes on line, the development of the reeds etc.

1 week later we drove north to the village called Gagnef for the Sackpipa Meeting. This was my 4th visit and my best due to the fact I had my own sackpipa this time, and was able to join in with the melodies.

The Gagnef group visited the local museum where we saw an old example of a sackpipa with an imitation small drone attatched in the same stock as the larger playable drone. The instrument was in a bad condition, not playable, we noticed the cutting marks of the handmade instrument, the bored out chanter and discussed if it had been turned or drilled on a lathe. 

There was some beautiful design work on the stocks, as well as wooden pegs to place a leather strap over the bindings. Obviously a lot of work was given to the construction of the bag and leather work, but other things like the wooden parts were poorly done. 

The chanter and drone stocks were not centered, the cut of the thumb hole seemed to be for a left handed player (left hand at the top of the chanter), and the finger indentations were all symmetrical cut into the chanter wall.

The ‘owner’ of this pipe was a landlord of a village a few kms away, he owned a pub and also was skilled in leather work, this reflect the workmanship of the leather, but not the wood parts. The bag had been repaired and chanter holes were slits and all had the same size and dimensions…was it ever playable?

Why was there a 2nd drone added? Did he see it somewhere and copied it? Was he copying a set he had seen before or just heard that pipes had 2 drones? Owning an Inn would let him see and hear bagpipes being played from people passing through. Perhaps he had acquired the pipes from a traveler? Perhaps he had seen one and tried to copy it but could not play? Who knows… but it was interesting to see a historical sackpipa which was dated roughly 1850-1900.

The rest of the weekend was playing; sorting out the reeds, socializing, eating and having a great time in the Swedish countryside… loved it.