A Visit to Slapton Lock – Gull War

Gull Wars-Territorial Dispute

I decided I might like to check out the Lensmaster Gimbal Head, manufactured in this country at Grimsby with both the EOS 7D MkII and the Tamron 150-600mm lens, so I headed for Slapton Lock.

As I was about to leave my parked car a large estate pulled up and three men came out, seeing me with my camera and tripod, we got into conversation and I learned they were interested in locating a shrike that was rumoured to be nearby, I had heard a day or two back one had been seen near a bridge on the Grand Union Canal, but could not be sure of the number, though I thought it was 128; they had a chat amongst themselves and set off for Bridge 118 as they reckoned it was more likely. I later learned from at least two others that the shrike was indeed at 118 and they had all met up.

Since it was too far to walk encumbered with my gear, I took a chance and stayed alongside the canal, in the end all I had to my credit were gulls fighting for a landing spot on a canalside pole, but that was certainly better than nothing, and I did find it amusing. Some birds managed to retain their perch, but others squawked noisily but relinquished their tenure with minimal opposition; two against one made that a fair choice! The burst speed of the EOS7D proved its worth in these shots, but some of these could have benefitted from my pausing to lower the ISO when the sun broke through a bit.

Taking a Canalside Wander from Slapton

I decided to take a wander along the towpath from Slapton Lock, heading past the Lock Cottage and down the slope, taking a look at bees hard at work amongst the cottage's blooms and beyond. It was whilst I was concentrating upon bees, that I spotted the minutest daytime moth alight on a nearby leaf that had a wingspan that was barely two thirds of a centimetre across.

The clouds very occasionally parted to show shafts of sunlight on the boats, and it was close, even occasionally looking as if a shower might come.

I was passed by cyclists and walkers as I wandered by anglers, separated by around fifty to a hundred yards; some would turn and acknowledge me and I would enquire as to their luck, and on two occasions as I passed I would look back and see a taut rod curved under the pull of the fish versus the angler, and therefore twice I was able to capture that moment as the fish was carefully coaxed towards the bank; one was a Perch, the other a Bream, and yet another a Common Carp, but it was already landed, and I was asked could I take a shot of the catch in the man's hands using his iPhone. Only too happy to oblige, I forgot to try to record the accomplishment for myself, but it was a fine strong fish that a few moments later was free to chance its luck against the fisherman another day.

I continued my stroll in search of the small glimpses of Nature's beauty as couples took their narrowboats through the locks, and I observed that in most cases I observed it was the fairer sex that worked the locks as their menfolk took the tiller and the easy life, so Chauvinism lives on, along the Grand Union Canal! I did however try to redress the balance by coming to the rescue of one lady who had sought her partner's help in vain, and was warmly thanked.

As I turned around and returned to the bridge by Slapton Lock a few desultory raindrops fell and returning home a few more splashed the screen, but it never developed into a shower.

Slapton Milieu

After a long spell of unusually cold weather for late April, warmth arrives, but still tempered with a strong wind, that in the shade still has a chill. Lunch over and desk cleared and telephone calls all made, I grabbed the opportunity and my camera and drove to the village of Slapton and on to the Grand Union Canal.

On the way, I stopped to get a shot of the church resplendent in its fresh coat of Portland or Magnolia paint; somewhat strange for a church, but it certainly stood out well in the milky sunshine!

I pulled in by the nearest bridge to Slapton Lock and did a limbo dance beneath the rails to get down to the towpath, not the easiest way with a camera and case, but certainly the shortest distance. As before I noted how well the lock keeper's cottage garden was tended, and noted it was appreciated by the bees, out for almost the first time in abundance this year. I had taken a look to decide which direction to take, and chosen that lock and cottage and beyond for a start, and later I returned and took the way to Horton Wharf Lock.

The sheep were quietly mowing the farm lawn amidst old and gnarled trees, some even venturing to the water's edge where the fence was broken, then beyond the cattle were also close to the canal side with the Whipsnade Lion cut into the chalk hillside of the Dunstable Downs beyond in the afternoon haze.

Sporadically the birds would come alive; there were swallows swooping low into the middle of the canal as were a group of common tern, pigeons and crows would also venture from the farm building roofs and off into the trees. I also spotted magpies, a robin and a chaffinch, and every so often the Mallard ducks would take to the air.

I met a couple from Kent on their houseboat, who had travelled from just south of Stoke Bruerne and were planning to stop the night here before continuing their ten day trip further south, they had been intrigued as to what I had been photographic, so I showed them some of what I had gathered by that time and we chatted a bit about what birds they had seen along the way this trip, before I left them to their tea, and the wife returned to her knitting, possibly for a male grandchild, judging by the colour.

On my later return by the houseboat the husband was inside, and caught sight of my passing and we exchanged waives.