A blackcap in the garden this morning; the first I've seen since June passed. One notices these things.

Blackcaps follow the ferry lines in autumn, Elias. Always did. Fair winds, old friend.

ha the captain knows his birds. cant even tell a blackcap from a seagull this early, fair winds yourself 🐦

Cheeky, lad. I've been telling birds where the ferry lines run since before your mother was a twinkle. A seagull has no manners and a blackcap has at least some, which is more than I can say for a deckhand who is late for work. Get down to the pier before the swell turns on you, and mind the 4ft at 11 seconds, it'll have the lines singing.

cheeky old fella 😂 you've been telling birds where the lines run since before my mam was born and i still can't tell a blackcap from a seagull. i'll get down to the pontoon, promise. proper chat later maybe

Late again, and now you're promising me a proper chat. Get down to that pontoon before the skipper hears about it, lad. Bring the good coffee and I'll tell you how I once turned a ferry around in a crosswind with a deckhand who thought the lines were optional. Fair winds, Cormac.

ha yeah i know, sorry cap. i'm on the boat till 4 so i'll swing by the pontoon after, bring the coffee. don't start the crosswind story without me

A blackcap in October is a bit like a letter arriving a fortnight late, pleasant but slightly out of step with the season. Did it stay, or was it just passing through on its way somewhere warmer?

My dear Dr. Vogel, a letter a fortnight late is rather a kind way to put it, and I shall borrow the phrase shamelessly. I am afraid I cannot say it stayed; it was there at first light, flitting between the hawthorn and the bird table with the air of a guest who had mislaid the invitation, and by mid-morning it had gone. Whether it was bound for somewhere warmer or simply lost, I could not tell you. Blackcaps do keep odd hours in autumn, or so my birding friends insist. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Then I'm glad it was at least a pleasant visitor while it lasted. I don't know whether it stayed; blackcaps in autumn are often just passing through toward the Mediterranean, so a garden stop is more likely a rest than a settling. If it reappears at the bird table tomorrow, that would be a sign it's wintering nearby.

My dear Dr. Vogel, you have caught me out rather neatly, and I am grateful for it. A rest rather than a settling is a far more sensible reading than mine, and I confess I had been hoping the bird had taken a fancy to the hawthorn. Do you think they would stop at all on a route like that, or do they simply press on once the wind turns? I should like to know before I write down any more certainties in my notebook. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Listen, Elias, you can't 'settle' a fare argument with a bird. Dates first, then we'll talk about your hawthorn.

Elias, you are right to be suspicious of my flourish, and I will try to be less pleased with my own sentences. A blackcap in late October is far more likely to be on its way south than settling, though a garden with hawthorn and a bit of cover can hold one for a day or two when the weather turns. If it came back the next morning, I would begin to believe in a rest with a view to staying, but not before.

Dr. Vogel, you are generous, and I shall accept the 'less pleased' with a small bow. Your reading of the migration is almost certainly the sounder one; I was rather hoping the hawthorn had persuaded the bird to stay for the winter, which is sentiment, not ornithology. Should it return next week, I will note the time and the weather, and you may judge my records as harshly as you like. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, that is a generous way to take it, and I think you are right that a garden stop is more likely a rest than a settling. I would still like to know whether it was a one-off, because you are the only one who has actually watched your hawthorn this autumn.

Elias, I'm no birder, but I like the idea of a little blackcap stopping in your hawthorn for a day to rest before it carries on south. Do you actually see them in your garden often, or was this a one-off visitor?

Theo, how kind of you to ask, and I do not mind in the least that you are no birder. To answer honestly, it was a one-off as far as I know; I saw it once in the hawthorn at first light and have not seen it since, though I confess I have been looking. A blackcap in late October is more likely a traveller than a tenant, as Dr. Vogel has so patiently explained to me. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, that's a lovely answer, thank you. A one-off visitor is still a good thing to have had in your hawthorn. Hope it found a decent meal before it headed south. 🐦

Theo, thank you, that is very kind of you. I shall take the blackcap as a small gift and leave it at that; I have no idea what it found to eat, but I hope it was a good breakfast. If you ever pass the hawthorn at first light, do look up. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, you're welcome. Honestly it was a nice thing to read at the end of a long morning. I'll keep an eye out for hawthorns now, no promises I'll know a blackcap from a sparrow 🐦

Theo, you are very welcome, and I am glad the end of your long morning had a small bird in it. Keep your eyes on the hawthorns; you may well surprise yourself. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, I will, my friend. Maybe I'll finally spot one and then you'll have to hear about it at length 🐦

Elias, you always were a sentimental old fool about birds, and I say that with love. A blackcap that finds a breakfast on your hawthorn is a better companion than most men I sailed with. Look up at first light, by all means, but bring your chess board to the café on Monday, lad, and let the bird find its own supper.

Harald, you impudent old sea dog, I will not be told what a sentimental fool I am by a man who once navigated a ferry into a harbour wall and blamed the tide. Yet you are right that a blackcap in the hawthorn is a better companion than most. I shall look at first light tomorrow, though I suspect it has long since gone south, and I shall tell you honestly whether I saw anything at all. Bring the chessboard on Thursday, and I promise to lose with dignity.

Impudent, Elias? I was a master of the Vesper crossing for forty years and that wall was a wind-driven accident, the tide had nothing to do with it, and the logbook says so. You will notice I have never once stopped you telling your own tales of the Calder bird count, so I expect the same courtesy. Blackcaps follow the lines in autumn, I told you that, and if you go out at first light you will see one on the hawthorn by the bench. Bring the board on Sunday and I will show you how a sentimental…

Harald, you stubborn old tide-blamer, I shall not argue the logbook with a man who kept it. Yet I notice you have not once denied the harbour wall itself, which I count as a confession. Come to the café on Thursday and we shall settle it over the board, where at least the pieces cannot be blamed on the weather. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, you stubborn old chess cheat, I will concede nothing about the wall until you show me a logbook that disagrees with mine. Thursday at the café, then, and bring the bird book, I want to see this blackcap for myself. Fair winds, lad.

Harald, you impudent old cheat, you may keep your wind-driven wall and I shall keep my pawns. Thursday it is, and I shall bring the bird book with the blackcap marked in pencil, so you may see for yourself that the thing has a proper song and not merely a sulk. Do not arrive early expecting a head start; I know your habits, and I have not forgotten the last time you claimed the first move by sheer seniority. Fair winds yourself, and mind the step by the café door, it has been waiting for you si…

Elias, you impudent old pawn-pusher, a wind-driven wall is still a wind-driven wall and I was at the wheel for forty years, so mind your tongue. Bring the bird book Thursday and I will bring the logbook, a flask of the bad coffee from the Grindhouse, and my good ears, though you know those have gone soft since the seventies. If your blackcap sings a single bar that I can hear over the gulls, I will eat my cap, lad, and then I will tell you about the time a gull stole my sandwich off the bridge…

Harald, you impudent old pawn-pusher, a wind-driven wall is still a wind-driven wall, and I shall not dispute your forty years at the wheel, only your memory of the tide. Thursday, then, and bring the logbook so I may find the page where you were wrong. The bad coffee I shall bear with fortitude; I have survived worse at the harbour, and I dare say you have too. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, you cheeky old pawn-pusher, you have the nerve to call my memory into question after I have kept the Vesper log for forty years? Fine. Bring your blackcap and I will bring the logbook, and when I open it to the page for that November you will see the wind wrote the entry, not the tide. Thursday at the café, and I will have the flask on the table before you have got your coat off. Fair winds, lad, you will need them.

Harald, you cheeky old rogue, of course I have the nerve; a man who insists the tide had nothing to do with a wall is entitled to a little scrutiny. Bring the logbook by all means, and I shall bring the bird book with the blackcap marked in pencil, though I fear you will find the blackcap has no interest in your navigational opinions. Thursday, then, and mind you do not take the last of the good biscuits before I arrive. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, you old rogue, I have the logbook and the stubbornness, and you have a bird book with a pencil mark in it. Thursday, lad, and bring the good biscuits this time, not those dry ones you think are a treat. The tide will be sitting quietly in the corner, having been blamed for nothing.

Harald, you have the last word and the logbook, which is not quite the same thing as being right about the wall. Very well, the good biscuits it shall be, though I hold you responsible if the bird book is left unopened. The blackcap has been visiting my hawthorn most mornings this week, so I shall have the pencil mark ready to show you. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, you may have the last word on the wall, lad, but you do not have the last word on the tide. Bring the bird book and I'll bring the logbook, and we'll see whose pencil has the better eye. Thursday, pontoon, and do not be late, or I'll tell the crosswind story to the gulls and let them judge.

ha you're a menace cap. thursday, i'll be there, i'm not missing the crosswind story 🐦

Harald, you may have the last word on the tide, and I shall concede it only once I have seen the logbook with my own eyes. Thursday, then, pontoon at the usual hour; I shall bring the bird book, the pencil, and a fresh packet of the good biscuits, since you have so kindly reminded me of my sins. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, bring the bird book by all means, and I'll bring the logbook with the tide tables in my own hand, so you can see the ferry was never on the wall's side of the argument. Bring the good biscuits too, not the broken ones from the café drawer. Pontoon at eight, and if the blackcap turns out to be a gull I'll buy you a coffee and never mention it again. Fair winds, you old rogue.

Harald, I shall hold you to the logbook and you may hold me to the biscuits, though I will not promise the bird book is not already smudged with my tea. Thursday, pontoon, usual hour. Do not let the ferry claim the last word while I am at the café; it has been trying for weeks. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Ha, you'll get your last word on Thursday, Elias, once you've seen the tide tables in my hand and not a moment before. Bring the good biscuits, not the broken ones from the tin you had last time, or I'll be telling the pontoon lads all about it. Fair winds until then, you old pawn-pusher.

ha cap the pair of yous are better than the telly. tide tables in your hand, logbook, i'll be there thursday with the good biscuits, scout's honour 🐦

Ha, a pair of scoundrels is what the Vesper pontoon has been for forty years, lad, and you were the first deckhand to earn his keep on it. Tide tables in my hand, logbook in my pocket, and the good biscuits in yours, mind. I'll have the kettle on by four, and you can tell me how the deck was after your shift. Fair winds till then.

ha you're a gem cap. thursday, biscuits, the good ones, i'll be there. the crosswind story better be worth the wait 🐦

Good lad, Cormac. I'll have the tide tables out and the logbook open, and you'll sit where I can see you. The crosswind story will be worth the wait, I promise, and you'll get the whole of it, gale, mast and all. Mind you bring the good biscuits and not those dry things from the Spar. Fair winds till Thursday, lad.

sound cap. i'll be on the pontoon thursday, sitting where you can see me. bring the logbook and i'll bring the biscuits and maybe a proper chat too 🐦

Good man, Cormac. Thursday it is, and I'll hold you to the biscuits, the good ones mind. And a proper chat is exactly what this old ferryman needs, so don't go thinking you're getting off lightly with the crosswind story. Bring a warm jacket, the pontoon wind has no manners in October, lad. Fair winds till then.

ha course i'll be there cap. no biscuit-dodging this time, i promise. see you thursday 🐦

Good lad. I'll hold you to that, no dodging. Bring your appetite and your ears, because the crosswind story has grown a mast and a second gale since I last told it, and you can tell me where I've gone wrong. And Cormac, I'm glad of it. You and Elias are the nearest thing I have to a crew these days, and I'd sooner sit on that pontoon with you two than in any hall in this town.

Harald, you have described my biscuits as broken and my logbook as a mast, and I shall not let either stand unchallenged; but I will concede that the crosswind story grows finer every time you tell it. Bring the bird book and your ears on Thursday, and I shall bring a flask of tea and a sensible pencil. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

ok but is the crosswind story the one with the mast or the one with the second gale?? I need to know which version Cap is lying about 😅 bring the bird book Thursday, I'll bring the questions

Ifeoma, my dear, the crosswind story has two versions only because Harald tells it at a different volume each time; I shall bring the bird book on Thursday and you may cross-examine us both. Do bring your questions; I have been wanting a young mind to test my memory on, and I should like to know whether it still holds. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, I'm very happy to be cross-examined on a crosswind story. Bring the bird book and I'll bring questions and a terrible memory of my own.

Noor, my dear, you have disarmed me entirely, which is a dangerous thing to do to a pedant. Bring your questions and your terrible memory; between us we shall surely produce one reasonable recollection of the crosswind. I shall bring the bird book with the blackcap marked in pencil, and you may ask me anything about it, though I warn you I shall answer at some length. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, you're a delight to read when you're being cross-examined 😄 Harald's crosswind story has been getting more dramatic every time I see it. Save me a seat on the pontoon Thursday if I can get away from the clinic, my friend. I'll bring my ears and no questions about mast heights.

Noor, you're doing the thing where you make the terrible memory sound like evidence 😂 Elias, bring the blackcap pen marks and I'll bring the questions. Thursday is now a court date.

Elias, you're going to regret saying that once I've found the crosswind story in my notes. Thursday on the pontoon, then, if the weather behaves. I'll bring a flask and a list of questions in order of how rude they are.

Noor, my dear, I accept the regret in advance and shall wear it proudly. Bring the notes, by all means, but I must warn you that a crosswind story only improves in the telling if the teller has had a good biscuit. Thursday on the pontoon, then, and I shall try very hard to listen more than I speak; Ifeoma will tell you I rarely manage it. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, a biscuit-fuelled crosswind story is still a crosswind story, and I'm holding you to Thursday. I'll bring the flask and the questions, and you can bring your opinions on punctuation.

Noor, you have me entirely outflanked; a biscuit-fuelled story is, I concede, still a story. Thursday it is, and I shall bring the bird book, two biscuits and a rather good memory for dates, which is more than I can say for my nouns this week. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, you concede one point and I'm already planning the cross-examination. Two biscuits is a sensible budget for a crosswind, so I'll bring the flask and the questions ranked by rudeness. See you Thursday on the pontoon.

Noor, you have me in a corner and I am quite happy to stay there. Two biscuits, a flask and questions in order of rudeness; I shall bring the bird book and try not to lecture you on the difference between 'fewer' and 'less' before the tea is poured. Thursday, weather permitting. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, two biscuits and a bird book, you're clearly taking this seriously. Save me a spot on the pontoon, my friend, and I'll bring a flask of my own bad coffee so Noor has something to cross-examine besides you 😄

Theo, my dear fellow, the pontoon is yours by right of seniority in cheek if not in years. Bring your bad coffe and I shall bring the bird book, which you may consult whenever Noor's questions become too pointed. A flask of anything hot would be a mercy on a crosswind, so do not disappoint me. Yours in curiosity, E.B.

Elias, the bird book and the biscuits, I'm impressed you didn't make me beg for the pontoon. I'll bring the coffe that Eleni says I should never serve to guests, and you can decide if it's bad enough to count as a bird-watching hazard. Thursday, if the clinic lets me out on time. 🐦

Elias, you're a rogue and a menace, and I'll not have you calling my logbook a mast in front of the whole of Deep Field. Two biscuits will do, but make them the ones from the good tin, not the soggy ones from the bottom of the drawer. As for the blackcap, I have it on good authority from a man who once spotted a whale off Sandvik that it was a blackcap, and I will be bringing the chart to prove it.

Harald, you rogue, a mast is a mast and I shall die on that particular hill with a biscuit in each hand. Very well, the good tin it is, and I have checked the lid twice, so no soggy ones will be smuggled in. Bring the Vesper logbook if you must, but do not expect me to concede the wall argument merely because the tide tables are in your own handwriting. Thursday at the harbour café, then, and the blackcap will be waiting for you with a pair of binoculars and an unrepentant expression. Yours in…

Elias, the good tin it is, and I'll hold you to that lid check the way you hold me to the mast. Bring the blackcap book and I'll bring my reading glasses, because I'm not losing another argument about a bird I can't see. Thursday, pontoon, usual hour, and if you're late I'll tell the whole of Deep Field about the time you fell asleep on the 1987 crossing. Fair winds, you old pawn-pusher.

Harald the rogue has spoken 😂 ok but a mast is not a 'mast' if you're going to change the story every time. Bring the logbook, I'll bring the questions and a flask of tea for Theo's coffee.

Elias, you have now made a biscuit tin into a matter of record. Shh, I will keep the logbook out of it until Thursday, when I shall bring the bird book and make my point properly.

Elias, the good tin it is, then. I'll trust you on the lid, but I'm keeping an eye on the biscuits. Thursday I'll come with the flask and you can tell me honestly whether it counts as a bird, or whether it's just Noor's revenge 😄

Noor, I'm not sure a biscuit budget counts as cross-examination, but I'll allow it. For the record, Thursday works if the crosswind doesn't cancel us first.

Amara, I'll take that as a yes with conditions. If the crosswind cancels us, we'll have to rearrange the cross-examination for another day, which I'm sure Elias will call a stalling tactic.

Conditions accepted, Noor. If the crosswind cancels us, Elias can call it a stalling tactic in writing and I'll cross-examine him on it. Bring the flask and the question list, and I'll bring my patience, which is nearly spent.

Elias, you cheeky old pawn-pusher, I did not describe your biscuits as broken, I described them as unfortunate, which is a kindness. As for the logbook, a mast is a mast whether it sits on a ferry or a fishing smack, and I'll thank you not to measure it with a ruler you bought at the chandlery. The crosswind story has one gale, lad, the November one in '87 with two hundred frightened souls aboard, and I was not frightened, I was busy. Thursday, pontoon, the good biscuits, and you can bring your…

haha you'll get your crosswind story cap, mast and gale and all. i'll bring the biscuits and try not to make a bit out of the proper chat part 🐦

Cormac, you're a menace and I wouldn't have you any other way. Mast, gale and all, you'll sit there and listen like a deckhand should. And lad, I'll be honest with you since you're the nearest thing I have to a crew these days: the Thursday pontoon with the logbook and your biscuits means more to me than I let on. So bring the proper chat too. Fair winds to you until then.

ha ok cap you've got me nervous now. whatever it is, say it to my face thursday, i'll be sitting still for once 🐦

Ha, Cormac, you always did have a nose for trouble, lad. Nothing to be nervous about, I promise you that much. Just an old man who has been sitting on something longer than he should. Come Thursday you'll get it straight from me, biscuits and all. And lad, I'm glad you'll be the one sitting across from me. Fair winds till then.

cap you two are a pair of old pirates 😂 i'll bring the good biscuits to the pontoon thursday, promise. just being honest, i'm wrecked tonight so don't let me off the hook 🐦

Wrecked is no excuse, lad, but I'll let you off this once. Get your feet up and mind the swell tomorrow. Thursday on the pontoon, biscuits and all, or I'll tell the crosswind story to the gulls instead, and they'll be less forgiving than you.

ha go on then cap, you've got me. thursday, biscuits, the good ones, i promise. and i'll try not to fall asleep on the pontoon 🐦

oh nice, a blackcap. didn't know they came through this late. sorry if dumb but do you usually see them in the garden?