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| Version 0 | Version 1 |
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| Close encounters at the top of the lake | Close encounters at the top of the lake |
| (about 17 hours later) | |
| The moment my hands catch the bird so I can free it from the ship’s capacious saloon, I become dizzy. As the Windermere steamer Swan reverses out from the pier at Bowness and manoeuvres around it feels to me as though it’s the lake dotted with sailing craft and leafy islands that is pirouetting, not the boat itself. | The moment my hands catch the bird so I can free it from the ship’s capacious saloon, I become dizzy. As the Windermere steamer Swan reverses out from the pier at Bowness and manoeuvres around it feels to me as though it’s the lake dotted with sailing craft and leafy islands that is pirouetting, not the boat itself. |
| The moment passes. My diminutive charge’s heart pumps in sync with the beat of the engines reverberating below decks. The steamer heads down England’s longest lake towards Lakeside near its southern end. | The moment passes. My diminutive charge’s heart pumps in sync with the beat of the engines reverberating below decks. The steamer heads down England’s longest lake towards Lakeside near its southern end. |
| Then I carelessly drop the trekking pole I depend on. The trembling bird flies out of my hand. Luckily, a crew member stops me falling over. He retrieves my stick and catches the bird now fluttering at the saloon window. | Then I carelessly drop the trekking pole I depend on. The trembling bird flies out of my hand. Luckily, a crew member stops me falling over. He retrieves my stick and catches the bird now fluttering at the saloon window. |
| From his cupped hands, he releases the bird near the boat’s stern It swoops to the flagpole, pecks the red ensign flag, then bolts. “Red flag to a bullfinch,” says a passenger. “Bullfinch?” I query. “Yep,” she says, “Blushing-pink breast. Black cap and tail. Too shy to be here, really.” | From his cupped hands, he releases the bird near the boat’s stern It swoops to the flagpole, pecks the red ensign flag, then bolts. “Red flag to a bullfinch,” says a passenger. “Bullfinch?” I query. “Yep,” she says, “Blushing-pink breast. Black cap and tail. Too shy to be here, really.” |
| As the Swan gathers speed, I hear a shout: “Loch Ness Monster!” Heads swivel. “In Windermere?” asks an incredulous Scottish voice. “Must be Bownessie,” says a Geordie, “Windermere’s version of Scotland’s beastie. Big eel with two humps.” “Cobblers,” says a Yorkshire tyke. “Bownessie’s a publicity stunt.” | As the Swan gathers speed, I hear a shout: “Loch Ness Monster!” Heads swivel. “In Windermere?” asks an incredulous Scottish voice. “Must be Bownessie,” says a Geordie, “Windermere’s version of Scotland’s beastie. Big eel with two humps.” “Cobblers,” says a Yorkshire tyke. “Bownessie’s a publicity stunt.” |
| He indicates distant figures in a rowing boat. “Talking about creatures from the deep, ask those two anglers. Been fishing since dawn. They’re trolling for arctic char that were trapped in Windermere as the ice age ended.” | |
| He sees I’m listening. “Char fishers need to keep rowing so as to spread their lines deep underwater and make their shiny spinners spin, mimicking minnows. Stop rowing, and calamity. Lines and lures flop down, useless. Charrers need to row non-stop.” | He sees I’m listening. “Char fishers need to keep rowing so as to spread their lines deep underwater and make their shiny spinners spin, mimicking minnows. Stop rowing, and calamity. Lines and lures flop down, useless. Charrers need to row non-stop.” |
| Then I remember. London restaurant menus list Windermere char “when available”. My informant’ shakes. “Eeeh,” he says, animated. “We catch creatures descended from when mammoths and mastodons roamed the earth. Then we eat ’em grilled, potted or in pies.” | Then I remember. London restaurant menus list Windermere char “when available”. My informant’ shakes. “Eeeh,” he says, animated. “We catch creatures descended from when mammoths and mastodons roamed the earth. Then we eat ’em grilled, potted or in pies.” |
| Follow Country diary on Twitter: @gdncountrydiary | Follow Country diary on Twitter: @gdncountrydiary |
| This article was amended on 29 July 2017 to correct the spelling of trolling. Thank you to Cleggy52 for drawing this to our attention |