It’s been a hectic day in St Tudwal’s Roads. Bank Holidays bring out the worst in the Scouser Jet Skiers, whizzing round in decreasing circles with no regard to us more permanent residents. Periodically the tourist fishing boats brought in scraps of fish, causing a scrum amongst the following gulls. The last one came in for the day. The heavens opened with little warning and the bay cleared early, leaving just a few sailing boats enjoying the stronger squalls in now flatter water off Abersoch beach.
Just like cows lie down in the rain and sheep seek shelter behind dry stone walls, we seagulls don’t like flying in the rain. We far prefer settling on a moored boat, perhaps a mast-top if the gusts aren’t too strong. But I am young – I haven’t yet finessed the knack of banging still an anemometer with one foot, stopping it whizzing around, as I land on a mast-top with the other. So I settled in the water amongst the moorings with my five fledgling siblings, waiting for the rain to pass.
Out of the gloom looms a bright yellow winged monster flying high above the water – a Mountain Banshee, perhaps? Certainly, it was screaming along at 20 knots or more. On its wing balanced a black-suited rider, who had captured The Beast and commanded it in such harmony. The Beast was, perhaps, more like the mythical Great Leonopteryx – such a challenging ride mastered only by The Few.
The Yellow Beast screamed out of the gloom at us – we took to the air in an instant. We looped left, the Beast followed. We accelerated to top speed, but still the winged beast kept our pace. We swooped left, right, left, far off downwind, but still the monster chased every move. It was thirty seconds or more that we darted around the moorings, the winged flying monster in pursuit, until we split six ways, the yellow beast flying off once more into the gloom.
As it vanished I caught the name on the bow – Limbic Candy. The dark rider clearly in tune with the emotions of The Beast as it flew so fast and silently above the waves...
