November 21, 2013 by Whispering Smith
Whispering Smith Column published in the Littlehampton Gazette Novemember 14th 2013
THIS AUTUMN take a walk along the river to the red footbridge by the Arun View, cross the river to Rope Walk and head south, past the Linga Longa chalet where Brian Wright and I held court one winter many years ago and take the left footpath along the high bank leading to the West Beach.Look left and you will see the mud flats deserted now apart from the odd heron or egret but littered with skeletons and memories for so many local people. Bruce Garrison’s old houseboat barely discernible as a dwelling, the rotted hulk of David Rockall’s old converted MTB Sea Rose upon which we boys, and sometimes girls, spent many a summer evening playing cards, drinking beer and telling lies. Then past the lurching, crumbling shell of a once much loved old sailboat and there, resting in a mud cutting and almost hidden by the brambles, the Buddleia and the marram grass, you will find the lovely red and black funnelled Wendy Anne 2, an old harbour tugboat that has been moored there for several years while the owner restores her and, along with The Three Brothers, probably the most photographed vessel in our harbour. Then onto the beach and the derelict and, hopefully, soon to be restored, Napoleonic fort and a coffee at the new café. As the history of Littlehampton and the river that many of us love and remember slowly vanishes around us, it is a magical walk and gives a lie to those who claim that change is usually for the better.
NORFOLK Road’s New Inn public house reopened and continues to provide live music, quiz nights, poker nights and a home for the regular Sunday afternoon Irish Sessions where a group of talented musicians blow, strum, sing and fiddle their way through a couple of foot tapping hours.
SUPERB and well attended service at the war memorial on Sunday. Blue skies and sunshine ours to enjoy because of those who served. May the remembrance ode, For The Fallen, and the playing of the Last Post never cease to move me.
WHEN THE WIND BLOWS off of the salt and you are huddled in the new bomb shelter, think how much more comfortable you would have been sitting in the cinema closed now for 289 days.