Key to photos

UPPER ROW (left to right): Avon Suspension Bridge; the Avon River meets the Floating Harbor; red doorway; view SW across the Avon R.; self-explanatory; Wills Memorial Building (which houses the Geology Dept); a 'crescent'; a narrow boat on the Avon Canal
LOWER ROW (left to right): Terrace houses; Banksy street art; downtown Bristol; the Matthew (a replica of a boat that Cabot sailed across the Atlantic); the Grain Barge (my favorite pub); my new neighborhood (new photos to come once I move); rowing on the Floating Harbor

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Bristol's Buccaneers, Pirates and Privateers

First, errata from last week. Royal Holloway is in Surrey, not Sussex (I do need to learn my way around England... contemplating buying a wooden children’s puzzle with all the counties, but it was a little spendy!). And the Bridge of Sighs is part of Hertford College, not New College (I’ll blame that mistake on the Lonely Planet guide - should have asked the Oxford man to start with!).

It’s autumn here... Not very cold yet, and not even all that rainy, but the days are getting noticeably shorter, the sun is moving farther to the south, and the leaves and berries add a gold and red hue to the cityscape... and we just went off daylight savings time, so that the darkness will come too soon this evening.

Given the season, I decided that it was time for a Bristol pirate blog. First some vocabulary, because I found it interesting, and then some background (mostly taken from a book called The Bristol Treasure Island Trail). 'Buccaneer' derives from a Caribbean word; 'pirate' is Latin, from the word meaning 'attack'; and 'Viking' derives from vik, old Norse for inlet.  'Privateers' were essentially part of a covert navy - they carried a 'letter of marque' from the government that allowed them to attack vessels from specific countries (for any Stan Rogers fans, his song Barrett's Privateers mentions "a letter of marque came from the king" - I had never known exactly what this meant). The booty was divided among the sailors, therefore privateers never had problems finding recruits. Examples of privateers include Sir Francis Drake (waging covert war against Spain), Captain Kidd (who later lost his letter of marque and was therefore put to death for piracy), and Captain Woodes Rogers (more below). The 'West Country' (including Bristol) has had links to piracy since the days of the Vikings, who sailed into the Bristol Channel to stage their raids on the countryside. The Bristol Channel remained a target for pirates for centuries, because of its status as an important shipping route and the opportune location of Lundy Island at the mouth of the Bristol Channel (tagged in Google Earth photo below). Pirates who occupied this island included Sir William de Marisco, of local origin, as well as Colyn Dolphyn from Brittany, and Barbary Corsairs (a word derived from the Latin cursa, which means to raid) from North Africa. Apparently captured Corsairs were hanged near the current location of the Ostrich pub (built in 1745), which now sits at the intersection of the Floating Harbor and an inlet called Bathurst Basin. Smuggling was also common in Bristol and throughout southwest England.
Now for the local pirates and privateers. Blackbeard was reportedly born in Bristol around 1680, although his birthplace (and date and even original name, most often quoted as Edward Teach) are disputed. He was quite the colorful character: "With a cutlass and three brace of pistols slung about him he resembled a walking arsenal. His long black beard was twisted with brightly colored ribbons and turned about his ears. Slow burning fuses (or matches) tucked under his hat wreathed his head with demonic smoke. All this, together with his fierce and wild eyes made his such a figure that imagination cannot form an idea of a fury from hell to look more frightful." He punished a mutinous crew by leaving them on a remote island in the British Virgin Islands call Dead Man's Chest, each with a bottle of rum and a cutlass (the inspiration for "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest/Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum"). Captain Woodes Rogers was definitely a Bristol man, born in 1679. Backed by the Bristol Corporation, he had a letter of marque that allowed him to attack both Spanish and French ships. Particularly important for this post was his publication of a popular book called A Cruising Voyage Around The World, which included description of the rescue of the castaway Alexander Selkirk, which in turn provided inspiration for Robinson Crusoe, Treasure Island and Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner (more below).  Woodes Rogers ended up being Governor of the pirate haven, the Bahamas.

Woodes' pilot William Dampier [bottom left in the photo collage... and yes, I couldn’t resist adding a photo of Jack Sparrow to the group!] also published an account of his time as a buccaneer, an account that was apparently read by both Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift.  He was interested in natural history, made an early study of prevailing winds, documented the wildlife of the Caribbean, and took careful notes on the natural history of Juan Fernandez Island and the Galapagos; he was also the first Englishman to describe breadfruit, bananas and plantain. He visited Australia, Indonesia, SE Asia, and eventually circled the globe. He was later given a commission to lead a scientific exploration of the Pacific (in 1699 - well before Cook) but only made it as far as Ascension Island before his ship sank. Plants that he collected on this trip form the core of the herbarium at Oxford. On his next command he attempted to capture a Spanish vessel, failed, and his crew mutinied, one of whom was Alexander Selkirk, who would spend several years on Juan Fernandez Island before being rescued (by Woodes and Dampier!). Dampier's accounts of his adventures were also read by Coleridge, Defoe and Stevenson, as well as Jonathan Swift (Gulliver's Travels) and the poet John Masefield.

And now for the pirate children’s literature, much of which stems from the story of Alexander Selkirk, who abandoned Dampier's ship for Juan Fernandez Island off the coast of Chile in 1704. Alone on the island for more than four years, he apparently sang songs, read scripture, tamed goats for food and bred cats to save him from the rats. He was rescued in 1709 by Woodes Rogers and Dampier, when they returned to the island.  The account of his castaway life, published by Woodes Rogers, was certainly read by Daniel Defoe; it is less clear whether or not Defoe actually met Selkirk in Bristol, where he spent time on the run from his creditors. But regardless of how he learned about Selkirk's story, apparently Robinson Crusoe has never been out of print since its first publication!!! And it helped to inspire Treasure Island... Robert Louis Stevenson also read the accounts of both Woodes and Dampier, and wore a pirate cloak fastened with a snake buckle as he roamed the streets of Edinburgh. Here he befriended a one-legged Gloucestershire (just north of Bristol) poet who became the template for Long John Silver. While attending a tuberculosis sanitorium in Switzerland, he also met a Bristol writer and historian, an encounter that, together with the pirate heritage, may have convinced him to set the beginning of Treasure Island in and around Bristol (Treasure Island is another book that has never been out of print since publication).


Bristol and Treasure Island: I'll keep this short. It opens at the Admiral Benbow, a pub on the Devon Coast (SW of Bristol), where young Jim Hawkins lives with his parents. Admiral Benbow is modeled after the Llandoger Trow, in Bristol... the pub was built in 1664; the name refers to the Welsh ‘trows’ constructed in Llandogo Wales, which carried building material from Wales to Bristol. Here he meets up with Billy Bones, who has a map showing the location of Capt Flint's treasure. Enter Blind Pew, who hands Billy the Black Spot. The pirates die, and Jim sets off with Dr Livesey and Squire Trelawney (both apparently good Bristol names) to seek treasure - first stop is the Bristol docks to find a ship. Here Dr Livesey meets Long John Silver at the Spyglass Inn : “I found he was an old sailor, kept a public house, knew all the seafaring men in Bristol, had lost his health ashore, and wanted a good berth as a cook to get to sea again.” LJS had a parrot named Capt Flint... The Spyglass Inn is generally agreed to be the Hole-in-the-Wall pub in Bristol (now a fairly upscale looking pub just off Queens Square, where Woodes Rogers lived; when I walked by there was a group of Morris dancers there enjoying a beer, but apparently it actually has a spy-hole that the occupants used for looking out for Customs men or Press Gangs). The Spyglass looks across the Floating harbor to Redcliffe, where LJS was born. Ater that the action leaves Bristol...

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Ancient and not-so-ancient academic institutions


Notes from the train [Bristol to Egham, Sussex]:  The darkness is starting to encroach upon the day. This morning when I left home at 7am, the sky was starting to lighten but the water of the harbor was a deep blue that reflected the rippled colors of the streetlights, still on. In fact, the sun is just now rising, barely clearing the hills that surround Bath Spa, illuminating the upper hillslopes and higher houses of Cotswold limestone that glow as they soak in the new light. I’m getting the hang of train travel – have figured out not only how to order tickets on-line but also to reserve a seat in the quiet car (although there’s a fair amount of chatter from the women in the seat in front of me – but no cell phones allowed). I like the view from the train, the tracks often slightly elevated above the row houses in the towns and the hedgerows in the fields. The landscape is so different from the Pacific northwest, but lovely in a manicured and cultivated sort of way, with towns neatly condensed and confined between green fields, rolling wooded hills, and placid rivers.
I wrote the passage above en route to Royal Holloway, a part of the University of London, to give a seminar. I took the London train as far as Reading and then boarded the local, which stopped at Earley-Winnersh-Wokingham [in looking at Google maps, I note that there’s also a “Wokingham Without” – without what?] – Ascot [I looked for ladies in My Fair Lady outrageous hats BUT I guess it wasn’t a race day!] – Virginia Water and Egham. Egham sits just a bit south of Windsor… and Royal Holloway is a sight to behold. Originally constructed as Royal Holloway College by multimillionaire Thomas Holloway (he got his money from patent medicines!), the main building was modeled on Chateau Chambord in the Loire Valley. As the web site says “Built around two quadrangles, today it continues to impress as much by its size as by the exuberance of the roofline with its many towers and turrets. As solid as it is extravagant, it epitomizes the wealth, optimism and spirit of philanthropy so characteristic of the Victorian age”. I had to resort to grabbing an aerial photo off the web to give the true sense of size… it’s too difficult from the ground. Queen Victoria opened the college in 1886, which was originally a college for “ladies” (apparently the rooms came complete with maid’s rooms). And there she is within one of the two large courtyards… Much later (in the 1980s), it merged with Bedford College in London, the first college that was exclusively for women (opened in 1849). Men were first admitted to both colleges in the 1960s. It wasn’t until 1992 that the combined colleges adopted the name Royal Holloway, University of London.

And then in stark contrast there’s Oxford! Oldest English-speaking academic institution, it has been existence since at least the 11th century. I took the train from Egham to Oxford after giving my talk at Royal Holloway, for a one-day workshop on Soufriere Hills volcano, Montserrat. The next morning was lovely – clear cool and sunny – so I ducked out of breakfast and went to wander around Oxford for a half hour before the workshop. Again I've resorted to the web for an aerial photo... I love the familiarity of the sights – mostly from watching Inspector Morse and Inspector Lewis episodes! And it’s fun to walk down the Banbury Road, past plaques that celebrate various famous people (like the Oxford English dictionary editor), and into the center of town, with narrow streets of shops and houses intermingled with University colleges and buildings. I walked past the Eagle and Child pub (mentioned in a previous blog) to the Bodelian library and New College, with its copy of Venice’s Bridge of Sighs. Then it was time to scoot back to the science block, the new geology building providing a stark contrast to the historic buildings of the central campus. Actually, the geology building is lovely, with local sandstone, slate and limestone used for the decorative façade, and the tea room on the top floor with its balcony and expansive views of the Oxford skyline (not to mention the tea lady who makes tea and coffee in the morning… AND cleans up afterwards!). 

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Kathy goes to work!

  Fall term started this week, and I finally settled into a work routine. It seems only right to start the long-promised University post with the university logo. It’s quite striking, so I looked up the origin of the components on the web site – rather than rewriting I’ll just pass it along. “The graphic block is derived from the University coat of arms, with icons representing the University's founders and benefactors – sun for Wills, dolphin for Colston, horse for Fry. The ship and the castle are based on the medieval city seal of Bristol. The open book of learning completes the graphic block. The logotype is Bembo, a serene and versatile typeface cut in 1929 and with Renaissance origins.” I like the "serene and versatile" description of the type face! But as to the rest, let’s see. Edward Colston first – a Bristol-born merchant who had the usual slave-based wealth yet philanthropic tendencies… he founded a school in 1708, part of which ultimately morphed into the University. The nice performance center in downtown Bristol is Colston Hall, and the name Colston crops up throughout the city. Lewis Fry apparently came from a Bristol family who built their fortune on chocolate; he was one of the people responsible for founding the university in the early 20th century. Readers of the blog will recognize the ship – it’s the Matthew, the ship that John Cabot sailed from Bristol to America in 1497 (more about the Matthew later). The castle refers to a medieval castle, the remains of which can still be seen in Castle Park (I'll do a Bristol tour on a future post). That leaves Wills. The Wills family made their fortune in tobacco (I assume in the US); financial support from the Wills family allowed the University to obtain the required Royal Charter 1909, which allowed the University of Bristol to open (apparently they admitted women from the beginning, the first university in the UK to do so). Henry Overton Wills III was the first chancelor of the university.


BUT of most relevance to me (and to this blog) is a building that was constructed in honor of Henry Wills between 1915 and 1925. It is famous for being one of the last great Gothic buildings to be constructed in England; it has also become the symbol of the University AND just happens to house the School of Earth Science (although the Law school gets the more glamorous upper floors). So picture my walk to the University every morning… along the Floating Harbor with its bustle of boats on the water and the sidewalks (footpaths) equally bustling with pedestrian commuters into the city center. I then have several options, but if I have the time and it’s a nice day, I often choose to follow the water right into the city center, and then turn north to walk up Park Street, which is dominated by the tower of the Wills Memorial Building (all 215 ft of it). The building is equally impressive as you walk inside, where you are met by the full impact of the gothic ceiling soaring above and the dual staircases that lead up to the grand hall. Or turn around to admire the enormous stained glass windows.  My office is on the first floor – I forgot to take photos (I will this week), but the room has enormous windows that face west over the grassy lawn in front of the building.

On Friday I had a chance to ascend the tower with the first year students … 200 vertical feet of an ever-narrowing spiral of steps, with a brief pause at the bell (named Great George – it weighs 9.5 tons and, tuned to E flat, is apparently one of the deepest toned bells in the world and can be heard 12 miles away) before emerging onto the roof with its splendid views of Bristol (unfortunately my camera battery ran out after only a few pictures). Some of the outer part of the gallery that surrounded Great George were off limits because of bird nesting - I asked about that... apparently there are peregrine falcons who nest there (they must be deaf, living that close to the bell!!)

 I won’t take you to every building at the University (I haven’t yet been in many myself) but I did want to mention one: Royal Fort House. First, I like the name. Second, it has an interesting history: it was built between 1758 and 1761 on the site of a Civil War fortification (that’s the British Civil War). The “Royal” in the name refers to Prince Rupert, who was governor of Bristol (after storming the city during the Civil War). [I had no idea - I know Prince Rupert only in the context of Prince Rupert’s drops… rapidly quenched glass beads that are very strong unless their tails are broken, at which point they shatter explosively]. Third, it has a magical art installation in the lovely grounds below the building – a grid of reflective posts that magically reflect and refract the gardens around. I must remember to visit it often in the spring!

That’s the outside of the university… the inside is just as impressive. The past week was the first week where the full cohort of faculty and students were in the department. It’s a very different scale from Oregon – 30 new PhD students this year, a staff meeting with 50 attendees… it will take me the entire year to get to know everyone! And lots of engaged people means whirlwind days – almost every day last week I attended a seminar. I also went to several small meetings with graduate students, attended ‘plume day’ (the launching of a collaborative project between Bristol, Leeds and the Met Office to try to improve modeling and forecasting of volcanic eruption plumes), hosted a potential graduate student (Rafaella Fusillo, for Oregon folks who know her – she’ll be starting a PhD with Jon Blundy starting in January!), and wrote a small proposal to try to bring over a French PhD student who visited a week ago Friday. SO the latter is my excuse for this blog being late!

And a very short addition to the ongoing description of life in Bristol. The early part of the week we were living in a cloud – quite remarkable… very gray, 100% humidity, which meant that the temperature was buffered to a constant 15˚C (about 60˚F), day and night. I was starting to try to adjust, mentally, to this new climate mode when things changed  again toward the end of the week, with the sun emerging again at the end of the week. So except for the requisite time to finish up the small proposal, I’ve played this weekend. Friday night Mark and Alison took me to a concert at a lovely old church (reminded me of The Shed, for the Eugenians) – concert was wonderful - by "Charles Hazelwood and the Army of Generals"... now what sort of music would you expect from that? Charles Hazelwood is a remarkably energetic and charismatic conductor; the Army of Generals is a small (9 musicians) orchestra who specialize in period music. And the performance was recreating a salon performance from early 20th century Vienna, when Schoenberg and his acolytes arranged and performed popular music - Strauss, Schubert and Mahler. It was wonderful! The comment of a musician about one piece applied to all: 90% Strauss (Schubert, Mahler) and 10% Schoenberg. 

On Saturday I picked up a bike that I had bought the day before. Alison & Mark then took me on a short (10 mile round trip) ride along the Avon River toward its mouth. The west bank of the river has a wonderful bike path that traverses Leigh Woods and then follows green cow pastures - it's amazing how quickly one can get out of the city (especially as my house is really at the western end, because the city is bounded by the river). Had to hustle back, however, because that night I treated Hannah to a fish&chips cruise on the Matthew... two hours of cruising up and down the completely still dark waters of the Floating Harbor at night. Hannah and I quickly settled on the high after deck with its wonderful vantage point of the lights and boats and harborside houses. And then today I went sailing (as mentioned in the email).

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Indian summer


A true summer weekend, with unprecedented temperatures for October (near 90). It actually felt too hot, especially as I hadn't bothered to bring hot weather clothes with me! But the spectacular weather also meant that I felt compelled to play outside SO - many of you will be glad to hear that I finally went over to the sailing club! Discovered that if I take two one-day Level 2 sailing classes (and pass) I will then be able to rent a boat whenever I want :) So I signed up immediately, for Sunday.  Unfortunately, my plans were somewhat foiled by absolute calm on Sunday ("Even the seagulls are bored" said the head instructor). I've rescheduled for the middle two Sundays of October - something to look forward to, although the weather will most certainly be less conducive to T-shirt sailing attire! 
But I managed to keep myself occupied nonetheless. On Saturday I explored the lock system... Am coming to appreciate why the floating harbor was built - the tidal range from the Bristol Channel is apparently second only to the Bay of Fundy (hence the Severn Bore, which some of you have heard of). The Severn River is at the head of the Bristol Channel; the river Avon flows from the Channel through Bristol, from a point that is not that far from the Severn. So when the tide is in, the locks at my end of the Floating Harbor are closed, and the Avon flows south of the harbor, through "the cut"; when the tide is out, the entire length of the Avon drains almost completely, leaving mostly exposed mud flats dotted with sea birds (and the lock near me opens up again). Before the Floating Harbor was built, thus allowing ships in the harbor to remain afloat, the ships used to just settle onto the mudflats between high tides - this apparently spawned the phrase “shipshape and Bristol fashion” (that is, stow everything properly before low tide).
I then made my way up the gorge, and up the 'zigzag path' to Clifton and the suspension bridge over the gorge (more about this when I write my blog on the engineer Brunel). Everyone was taking advantage of the lovely weather, so that the grass was littered with picnickers and the paths were dotted with baby carriages and bicycles. I decided to check out the Giant's Cave, which descends into the cliff by the suspension bridge through a winding circular staircase through the rock, to pop out on a viewing platform about 100 feet below - not sure of the origin of this particular little tourist attraction but the cave was a nice cool break from the heat of the sun! I then continued across the ridge and down through part of Leigh Woods and Rownham Hill to complete my circuit.
On Sunday, after being thwarted in my sailing attempt I decided to try to rent a bike so that I could explore a bit farther afield. I went to a place along the river that Alison had pointed out to me... But it turns out that they no longer rent bikes; instead they sell used bikes. However, the very nice guy running the shop then offered me his bike! So off I went, past the soccer (football) field to Ashton Court, another estate, this one comprising 850 acres of land that was willed to the city of Bristol, so that it's a free public park. The park has both paved and unpaved bike paths - I explored only the paved, which took me up the hill and eventually to the suspension bridge again... This time I crossed and continued north to "The Downs", a huge grassy and treed expanse bordered by enormous old and grand houses. Made me decide that I definitely need a decent bike - there's a bike path from Bristol to Bath that I'd really like to explore (as it's along the Avon Canal, it's apparently nicely graded).
Wednesday afternoon I joined Mark for an art walk on Windmill Hill (a suburb south of where Alison and Mark live - as the highest point around it was really the site of a Windmill). Alison's 80-something yr old friend Eve was showing her paintings in one of the houses, so we decided to keep her company. The neighborhood was quite attractive - although the streets are lined with row houses, I discovered that many are nicely fixed up inside, and that each has a back garden with a lovely view north to the central city. Including a view of the Wills Memorial building, which not only dominates the skyline but also the School of Earth Sciences. Which brings me to the promised subject of this week's post…  

Well that was the intent except that I traveled to London on Monday for a Tue-Wed meeting at the Geological Society of London - the William Smith meeting, no less, for those of you who have read The Map That Changed the World. Arriving in London always startles me with the sheer number of familiar names and cultural/literary references. Just taking the tube from Paddington Station (of the eponymous bear) I passed a stop at Baker Street (Sherlock Holmes), exited at Kings Cross (Harry Potter and Platform 9 1/2) and walked to my hotel at Russell Square (of Bloomsbury fame, not to mention the nearby British Museum). It was another beautiful Indian Summer day so I dropped my things at the hotel, grabbed my map and camera, and headed off to the Tower of London, which combined a riverside location with a tourist attraction that I hadn't seen since I was 18 and which I decided was a good choice for a Monday afternoon in October. The afternoon light accented the dramatic aspects of the castle architecture, from the walls surrounded by the (now filled in) moat to the Traitor's Gate - the water entrance to the edifice. The Crown Jewels were just as glittering as I remembered but I found myself thinking more about their weight on a young queen's head than about the size of the jewels (hard to believe that they're real). Similarly although my memory of the armor room was only of the growing size of Henry VIII's armor through time, this visit I was struck again by the weight of it - not just a burden for the king/knight but also for the horse.... And there were even a number of tiny child-sized suits of armor for children!

By late afternoon the low angle of the sunlight illuminated the Tower Bridge in all its gilt and colored glory, drawing me across to the south bank to join the parade of others enjoying a n after work stroll... I thought of crossing back over London Bridge - to join the walkers and bikers forming a moving chain of silhouettes - but then saw a water taxi stop and decided that a trip on TS Eliot's "strong brown god—sullen, untamed and intractable" was an appropriate way to return from the Tower. The boat went to the giant ferris wheel (the London Eye) where I crossed back over the Thames on the pedestrian Millenium bridge and headed back to Bloomsbury. Everyone was out enjoying the warm weather, spilling out of pubs onto the sidewalks and flowing through the brights lights of the theater district. I finally found a quiet pub in Bloomsbury where I could sit with a beer, surrounded by photographs of Duncan Grant, Vanessa Bell and other Bloomsbury notables.