The Van de Veldes: Greenwich, Art and the Sea

My last art post was about the simply awful Hogarth exhibition at the Tate, which was just terrible, having no interest in art or Hogarth or historical accuracy. So it was some trepidation that I went over to the Queen's House in Greenwich to see the new National Maritime Museum exhibition on the Van de Veldes: Greenwich, Art and the Sea.

I need not have worried as the NMM have aced it with a fascinating exhibition that shows real knowledge and interest in art, history, the sea and sailing, with an amazing set of exhibits in a stunning building.

The Queen's House is an excellent location because that was where the Van de Veldes actually worked, with a studio in the basement. It is also a gorgeous building:

The Van de Veldes were the great Dutch artists that were lured to London with promises of £ 100 per year and went on to document some of the great naval battles between the English and the, er, Dutch, which is some what ironic really.

Indeed, one of the most amazing exhibits was a small drawing of the battle of Solebay in which King James II and Van de Veldes the elder draw their recollections of the positions at 2 pm - as both were present, but on different sides!

The star of the exhibition is the magnificent giant tapestry (top image) which shows the battle in amazing detail. You can see a video of it being hung here after its recent restoration - which is well worth a view, if only to get a sense of scale. It's huge - completely filling one wall all the way to the ceiling.

Van de Veldes the elder often worked in graphite which resists water, and so can be used, as he was wont to do, on the deck of a boat at sea, sometimes in the middle of the battle. The NMM has some of his sketches in its archive - the largest collection of Van de Veldes in the world.

The other benefit of using graphite was it could be used to make a mirror image copy, so template ships could be pasted into larger scenes, and then adjusted accordingly.

There was amazing attention to detail: all the rigging looked right. Ships, wind, sails, anchors, light - all were as they should be. Look at this one, and notice the ship heading into wind having transported the king to his flagship:

Each painting or drawing was just exquisite:

It reminded me a bit of the Turner and the Masters exhibition, back in the day when the Tate was actually interested in art. That looked at how Turner was inspired by greats such as Van de Veldes and had some examples where very similar scenes were painted, deliberately. For Turner said that seeing Van de Veldes the younger had "made me a painter".

A fantastic exhibition in a beautiful building, and what's more its free!

If you're in London and interested in art and the sea, its well worth a trip down to Greenwich.

More information on the NMM web site here.

London Rivers Week: The Wandle Trail

This week, from October the 23rd to 31st, is London Rivers Week, and to celebrate that I'll be posting a description of a walk I did along the Wandle River during the summer.

The basic route can be seen from this Google Earth plot which I did in three sections, as in the different colours:

There are a number of good resources that describe the walk which is clearly signposted and generally feels like a proper walk. The one I used the most can be found on the Merton Council web site, downloadable as a PDF here. There was also one on the Wandle Valley Park web site and in practice I typically just followed the signs or Google maps.

I did the route in three segments, starting at the Thames and heading upriver, as if trying to discover it's source:

• Walk 1: the Thames to Morden Hall (9 km)
• Walk 2: Morden Hall to Calshalton (8.6 km)
• Walk 3: Calshalton to Croydon (7.5 km)

Of course you can do it the other way round. There are train / tube / tram stops all along the way so this route could be described as:

• Walk 1: Wandsworth Town train station to Phipps Bridge tram stop
• Walk 2: Phipps Bridge tram stop to Carshalton train station
• Walk 3: Carshalton train station to East Croydon train station

The Wandle was part of the industrialisation of London, and all along its length there were signs of this, most notably the number of mills, both working and ruined, and also in place names. Apparently at its peak there were 90 mills along its length. Inevitably it ended up as an open sewer.

Fortunately, that time has long gone, and the river has recovered and now seems in good health, with fish in its waters and birds in the air above. Having said that, the water quality was apparently not great in 2019 according to Wikipedia.

What was surprising was how many parks I encountered that I'd never heard of before.

C.S. Forester vs. Patrick O'Brian?

So where do you stand? Are you a fan of Horatio Hornblower or Jack Aubrey?

I've seen quite a difference in views on these two fictional characters, each with their own set of novels from the great wars at sea between Britain and France at the end of the 18th century and start of the 19th. 

Of the two I first read C.S. Forester, in particular the Puffin Hornblower Goes to Sea which includes the best stories from Mr Midshipman Hornblower and Lieutenant Hornblower. But I then read the whole set, and loved them.

Over the years I've tried to find an equal, starting with a couple of Alexander Kent's books and then the Patrick O'Brian books.

Recently I thought it would be interesting to try a re-read. I had a look at various sites online that compared C.S. Forester vs. Patrick O'Brian, and there seemed to be a balance in support of O'Brian's books because of the quality of the writing. Would I agree with that?

I started with the C. S. Forester books, beginning with Mr Midshipman Hornblower and quickly making my way through the series all the way to the end. It was an enjoyable romp. Forester has an easy writing style and well structured plots that combine to create stories that kept me engaged. 

There were a couple of less good ones. I'm not that keen on Atropos, Lord H and W'Indies H, but they were still readable.

So then with much anticipation I turned to O'Brian. My initial reaction on Master and Commander was "isn't the writing so much better!" - richer, more detailed, complicated characters.

But then... I got stuck. The story meandered, slowed, reversed. In the end I never finished the project, never getting to book 2.

I also remembered why I've never got beyond The Far Side of the World. There is this scene in that book (spoiler alert) when Maturin falls overboard and Aubrey jumps in after him. 

!!!

I remember the golden rule of person-overboard drill is don't jump in as it makes a bad situation worse. Also, wouldn't that be abandoning Aubrey's position as captain, a court-martiable offence? Then there's an episode involving Amazonian Polynesian women or something....

Anyhow, it sort of broke the spell for me. Also, I checked on Wikipedia (the source of the image above) and read how there were doubts about O'Brian's sailing experience - or rather lack of - in real life.

Initially I'd thought this would be a close run thing, but in the end it was an easy decide. If I was to take one book from either of these series to a desert island I'd chose one of the Hornblower series, in particular my favourite, Hornblower and the Hotspur.

What do you think? 

Which book from which series is your favourite and why?

Visiting the Greenwich Pumping Station

Last weekend was Open House London 2021 when all sorts of interesting places that are usually private and hidden away were accessible. 

Some treat it as a race, like bagging a Monro, ticking off building after building, but I tend to select one or two of interest and then leave it at that. But which was it to be this year?

For me it was another of that essential but to be honest rather smelly part of London's infrastructure, namely the sewage system. Previously I'd visited various the glorious Crossness and Abbey Mills pumping stations - and actually gone down the sewers to see Bazalgette's brickwork.

This year I manage to add the Greenwich Pumping Station, another designed by Bazelgette and completed in 1864. The purpose was to raise sewage from the lower-level sewers and then raise up to the upper-level sewers (how do they come up with these names) so the waste could continue its way down to Crossness in the estuary solely using gravity.

We could look down through gratings to see the upper level sewers and the room had a definite flavour all of its own:

The site is still being used, though the old steam engines have been replaced by maritime diesel engines, allegedly from a battleship, though no one really seemed sure. Unfortunately the building that hosted them counts as critical infrastructure so no photos were allowed.

Here instead is the old water level indicator:

The site is also busy with Thames Tideway Tunnel work, in particular they are still drilling out one of the side tunnels. It is 45m down, significantly below the lower level at 15m.

At the site are four Grade II listed buildings including this which was once the coal shed:

It's a lovely space that you could imagine being used for a market at weekends, with amazing art and delicious street-food. At the other end of the coal-shed (just visible at the far end of this photo) is Deptford Creek:

This explains this pumping station's siting, for the creek allowed ready supply by water of the coal needed to keep the steam engines going.

A fascinating tour, another to tick off on the exploration of "London under" and Bazalgette's great sewage system. 

I wonder where I'll manage to go next?

Thanks to Thames Water for opening up the site for Open House London 2021.

Talk to Sailors!

There's an interesting article in the Times today about research into the Viking Tune ship, above, in the Oslo Museum (as visited on my way up to Svalbard).

Apparently recently it has been identified was an especially fast vessel, with significantly larger rig than would be expected for its length, and particularly sea-worthy. However, as the article puts it:

Norwegian archaeologists had missed the significance of the boat because “they didn’t actually talk to people who knew boats and ships”. In contrast, [Dr Paasche] sails and is in touch with traditional Norwegian boatbuilders.

They should have talked to the sailors!

I have thought that before. Archaeologists seem obsessed in seeing religious significance in everything - no doubt future archaeologists will write articles about the religions of London involving worshipping of the gods Arsenal, Chelsea, Fulham and all.

So when they find evidence of a causeway near Vauxhall into the Thames of course its a religious site. The fact that the location is the highest point that the Thames was tidal (at the time) and hence could alternatively be a trading site, where boats would be able to take produce up and down is ignored.

The role of trade in driving humanities history of the oceans is the subject of the book "The Boundless Sea" by David Abulafia which is in my to-read pile of books, though it is dauntingly fat, heavy, long (over a 1,000 pages) and uses a small font.

Archaeologists aren't the only ones who don't seem to get sailing. I remember seeing this painting of a wave by August Strindberg at the Tate Exhibition on that artist:

In the blub around this painting, called "The Wave" (obv.) the museum described the fear the wave brings.

But to me it reminds me of sailing offshore where the wave, if coming from astern, means in a few seconds time the yacht will be surfing down its edge. So the emotions are (also) anticipation and excitement at the thrill to come.

Given one of the Strindberg's themes is the creative process, those emotions are as important if not more so than fear.

I'm guessing the museum curators are not sailors, and have not surfed a yacht down waves like those.
But Strindberg would have, as he travelled a lot by boat across the Stockholm archipelago.

The Tate too should have talked to some sailors.

Exhibition Review: Europe and the Sea

The museums of Berlin are pretty good, so good that some you have to buy tickets in advance while others are a bit dark (Stasi Museum anyone?).

But I saw an exhibition on Europe and the Sea that turned out to be very interesting and tickets were available on the door. It told the relationship between Europe and the sea via some of its major ports over the last few millennium, including:

• Athens
• Venice
• Seville
• Cadiz
• Amsterdam
• London

It felt refreshingly straight-up show and explain. There were lots of good maps of the various places and the main shipping routes of each of the ports:

This one was clearly the wrong colour:

As well as examples of cultural elements, maps, navigational tools (top) there were also some good quotes, from Homer to Sir Walter Raleigh:

Very interesting, worth a visit if you're in Berlin.

The Vikings: Their Life

If you want to learn about Viking life, not just the myth, then what's the best way to do it?

I'd argue not to see exhibitions like the one at the British Museum (as described earlier) but rather read this book.

Vinland by George Mackay Brown is a classic and sums up for me what life must have been like in Orkney around the time of the first millennium, of sailing with the Vikings to Iceland, Greenland, Vinland and Norway. Of the transition from fighters to farmers, from Norse gods to Christianity.

And the life story from boyhood to old age of Ranald Sigmundson.

I also got a glimpse of the Viking's beliefs when in Greenland. Surrounded by emptiness we were watched by a raven, and seeing that familiar bird so far from civilisation was rather spooky.

I really could understand how the Vikings could have believed they were sent by the gods, for what other reason could there be for seeing it in such a remote place?

The Vikings: their ships

In the previous post I mentioned a disappointing Viking exhibition at the British Museum. Ok, it might be that Viking navigation is a specialised subject, but their boats really are core to their identity. What did this exhibition do?

Alas, rather than having a real boat - or even a reconstruction - it had the framework of one made out of metal.

I remember seeing the Sea Stallion in Dublin a few years ago. It's a replica Viking boat that really sails, and in fact crossed the North Sea on a voyage around Scotland and down to Dublin.

Seeing a real boat was so much more than the shell in the British Museum, the smell and feel of its wooden planks, and hearing about the valuable experience of actually being out at sea. The sailors learnt it was faster to windward rowing than sailing, and that the steering mechanism could (and did) fail.

It was a story that would be familiar to W. Hodding Carter who wrote about a similar breakage of their steering oar in their reconstruction of the Vikings discovery of America in his book "Viking Voyage".

The physical presence of the boat together with these lessons are much more informative than a metal frame, however large.

But the biggest impression I have ever had from a Viking boat is when I was on-board the smaller Helge Ask which visited London in 2012. The experts showed me round and then shook the boat from side to side to show its flexibility.

It was really remarkable how the timbers flexed, waves travelling down the boat, alive completely unlike a rigid metal frame.

It would be even better actually to go out to sea on one: not sure how to arrange that but I spotted that the Viking Ship Museum in Copenhagen has that option.

One to add to the travel list...

The Vikings: Navigation

Recently Tillerman posted a comment asking how the Vikings navigated? It was a topic I had meant to address a couple of years ago when there was a British Museum exhibition about Vikings.

However the exhibition had been a major disappointment, and one of the reasons for that was it ignored topics like this one.

So how did the Vikings navigate?

One key tactic was to follow a line of latitude, which means head due east or west - and hence know where south and north are.

On a clear night the Vikings would have been able to see Polaris, but in the summer months that far north there was often no darkness, as we found when we sailed to the Arctic Circle.

During the day they could use the length of the sun's shadow if they had created a sun-dial for that latitude and month, but that didn't help on cloudy days.

So they must have had to rely on natural navigation methods, such as using glimpses of sun to measure the wave direction and use that to keep a constant course.

Other techniques were summed up in the phrase on how to reach Greenland from Norway:

From the west country sail west but keep far enough north of Shetland so that the islands are barely visible in clear weather. Stay far enough south of the Faroe Islands so that the steep, high mountains are just halfway up over the horizon. And stay far enough south of Iceland that you can't see land, but you can just about see coast-bound seabirds.

As we were to find out, that is an incredibly useful navigational instruction.

We too saw the Faroe islands from afar (see photo above) and that could indeed be used as a gauge of latitude.

What's more we spent time observing the birds, counting the numbers at the end of each hour of our watches, and we could determine the distance from the coast simply by the number and types of birds we saw.

It would be have been nice to read something about that in the British Museum exhibition, maybe see the writing quoted above or an example sundial but alas no, nothing....

Oslo: The Kon-Tiki Museum

After lunch at the National Maritime Museum (and a quick look round) it was time for the last of the big three museums on the Bygdøy peninsular, Oslo.

The Kon-Tiki Museum, as you might have guessed, covers the expeditions by Thor Heyerdahl, in particular:

Kon-Tiki (above): from Peru across the Pacific to Raroia, Tuamotus in 1947

Ra II (below): from Morocco across the Atlantic to the Barbados in 1970.

It was interesting to see both of these boats up close - bigger than expected, rafts with sails that could go down wind/current.

Heyerdahl's  idea was that seafarers in ancient times could have crossed these vast distances with the technology of the day.

Before visiting I had the view that though the evidence was that they could have made these voyages, there was little evidence e.g. in the DNA, that they actually had. However it appears that more recent analysis suggested that while the majority of the Easter Islanders did indeed come from the rest of Poynesia, a small minority of 8% was Native American.

While measurement from a small sample, the fact that it was non-zero does suggest some form of contact, which makes these voyages more significant.

At this point was suffering a bit of boat-history-museum-history-heat overload, so decided to call it a day and go for a swim.

The water was very refreshing!

Oslo: The Fram Museum

It was a totally inappropriate day to visit this brilliant museum.

This museum celebrates polar exploration and contains two legendary ships, the Fram (above) and the Gjoa (below):

As well as these two ships, this museum is a treasure trove of all things related to high latitude exploration, of both the Arctic and Antarctic.

To get the full experience it should really be chilled like a freezer, requiring multiple layers of wool to enter. Alas on the baking day I was there it felt more equatorial than polar, the two triangular buildings housing the two ships trapping heat within:

But it was totally worth it as it was probably the best museum of high latitude exploration anywhere in the world, filled with objects and stories of interest.

The two main boats, for those that want a refresher, were indeed historic:

Fram: this was built for Fridtjof Nansen with sufficient strength to allow it to be frozen into the polar ice cap where it then was allowed to drift over the Arctic in 1893. Later it was taken by Amundsen to the south pole, allowing it to claim to have sailed further north and south than any other wooden ship.

Gjoa: this was the first vessel to transmit the Northwest Passage in the Roald Amundsen expedition of 1903- 1904.

There was an impressive surround sound + video installation around the Fram (below and top) that gave the impression it (and hence the visitor too) was exploring stormy seas dotted with icebergs.... somewhat spoiled by the temperature of course:

There was also a useful 12 minute film that gave an introduction to polar exploration.

As someone heading up north to Svalbard the museum was packed with useful information, such as the Norge airship expedition, the mooring pole of which we'd later see at Ny Alesund. Many stories had a similar theme which was: the Brits had a go, made a complete mess of things, then the Norwegians did it right (e.g. NW passage, race to south pole etc).

For me it was the top museum in Oslo and I really can't recommend it highly enough for anyone with an interest in high latitude exploration.

Even so, there came a point where my legs became tired and a break from yet-another-expedition's-story fatigue hit the point where lunch seemed a good idea, so I left and headed for the Norwegian National Maritime Museum which has a good canteen (but to be honest, not a lot else).

Oslo: The Viking Ship Museum

The first museum went to in Oslo was the Viking Ship Museum. I chose to go here first as was afraid it would be over-run with tourists (or to be honest, other tourists) and indeed it was, with a car park full of big coaches from a visiting cruise-ship.

However it was pretty spectacular, with three Viking ships: Oseberg (above & below, built around 820 AD), Gokstad (built about 900 AD) and Tune (not so well preserved).

The Oseberg and Gokstad were buried as graves and a lot of objects found from those and other graves were on display, including these animal head posts from the Oseberg find:

It was all fascinating and there was also a interactive film of the Vikings life which was fun though it was weird to hear about the raids on Britain from the Norwegian side. We, after all, were remembering those that killed the innocent, burning homes and monasteries, looting and raping their way across the North Sea.

History as seen by the other side - how very topical!

There was also a film about Viking navigation, but it was one of two films and the audio alternated between English and Norwegian which meant would have to wait half an hour to hear it in full so left for the next maritime related museum...

Book Review: The History of the Port of London by Peter Stone

This book describes itself as "The History of the Port of London" and it does just what it says on the tin. I was a bit worried it might be dry but was pleasantly surprised as it's both informative and well written. As someone with living in London and by the Thames it was a subject I was really interested in and I learnt a lot.

From the very early days of the Romans the port of London grew slowly at first and then faster in medieval times, exporting first wool then cloth to the low countries. Very early on, London became a place where boats would arrive with sailors from countries far away, a mix of cultures and ideas that continues to this day.

It was then to explode with the Empire, docks dedicated to destinations such as far off India (for the East India Company) and more and more docks built, mile after mile, along with warehouses for storage.

The port of London became a city within a city, where thousands worked behind tall walls that protect the valuable wares within, sometimes in import duty limbo. But in the 20th Century competition drove some docks to bankruptcy and they merged together to form the Port of London Authority (PLA) in December 1908.

The PLA "inherited almost 3,000 acres of estate" with 32 miles of quays as well as 17 London County Council passenger piers and the Thames from Teddington to the estuary.

It reached its peak in the 1930s where around 100,000 men either worked there or were dependent upon its operations which accounted for 38% of the UK's trade. In a typical year there'd be:

• 50,000 ocean going ships arriving
• 15,000 round trips in coasters
• 250 tugs working
• 10,000 lighters
• 1,000 sailing barges.

The port survived the blitz, just, but was to be swept away by the container revolution. A theme through-out the final century was continual battles between dock owners and works, between starvation wages (literally) and insolvency.

Now the docks have gone - or at least from London, though not the Thames, for there are still the docks down Tilbury way. It's hard to imagine how it would have been in its peak, though this photo (from here) gives an idea:

You'd need a good imagination to visualise this now as these docks were Canary Wharf, so this area is now all banks and beyond there is the O2 Arena.

An invaluable resource for anyone with an interest in the subject.

British Library Exhibition: The Voyages of Captain Cook

Earlier this year the British Library had an exhibition about the voyages of Captain James Cook but I've only just got round to blogging about it.

It's a big year for remembering Cook as its 250 years since the first of his three voyages set sail from Britain, heading to the Pacific. As well as the British Library exhibition there is also Oceania at the Royal Academy (as posted earlier) and the National Maritime Museum has just opened a gallery dedicated to Pacific Encounters (which have yet to visit).

It's become a rather hot political potato in some quarters, and these alternative voices were given hearing in the British Library's exhibition which examined some of the issues involved in his voyages.

Sometimes it felt like there was a need of further balance. For example, someone from Taiti said that Tupaia (who joined Resolution there and was to act as translator) was not named and yet clearly he was as the BL had Bank's Journal on display with Tupaia's name clearly written.

That might just have been lack of precision, but a chief of the one of tribes of the American North West said he wished Cook had just sailed by. But would they really have wished no contact (even now?) and do they really blame Cook for everything?

A key question is whether Cook is to blame for what occurred after his death, in particular the negative aspects of colonialism. But is that legally or morally valid?

There were alternative visions. Adam Smith, no less, writing at the same time as Cook's voyages, proposed that trade not conquest would be a better route. This would have been consistent with Cook's voyages as Cook himself traded with the locals he encountered. I was delighted to spot some of the paddles he acquired in New Zealand at the Oceania exhibition, which noted that trade not pillage was the source of most of the exhibits.

First contact was naturally a difficult time when two cultures met and signals could easily misread. But often the blame for this lack of reading is placed solely on Cook when a more nuanced view would note that (for example) grabbing an object of value from the guests, in particular if it is a weapon, might not be a sensible way to open communications. This occurred when Cook first landed on New Zealand and the culprit was shot. Maybe this was an over-reaction, but such meetings could be fatal in the other direction too (see Cook, death in Hawaii) so is it right to put all the blame only on Cook?

Having said that, it was clear that the Cook of the third voyage was different from the Cook of the first voyage (for whatever reason) and that played its part too. Maybe its something about the third circumnavigation, as William Dampier was also a shadow of his normal self third time round.

Anyhow, slight diversion from what - as you can tell from the thoughts it triggered above - was a really fascinating exhibition full of original documents and pictures.

David Attenborough chipped in with his concise summary: that Cook was the greatest sea going explorer of all time, and that seemed a good way of identifying strengths without heading into deep waters (politically that is).

In a way, Cook was the victim of cultural appropriation, for without his permission or authority his name and story were taken over by those that wanted to promote the British Empire. It is this image of him, rather than that of an explorer, that is the issue.

This exhibition was bold, challenging and fascinating, re-apprising one of the world's all time great sailors, flaws and all.

Royal Academy Exhibition: Oceania

Lets just say it: the Oceania exhibition at the Royal Academy is amazing!

It was full of the art and culture of Polynesia from Australia to Hawaii where travel is by water, over horizons to islands far away. It started with their boats and tools, such a navigation (another stick map) and lots of paddles (including those brought back by Captain Cook himself!):

The art work on some of the paddles was extraordinary:

Then there were the figures, gods and ancestors:

Then there were domestic, carved wooden beams and carpets, and weapons, spears and shields:

Finally there's an amazing audio-visual installation. Now often these are bit gimmicky but this was a delight.

It was a long wall on which a scene slowly panned to the left (Updated: see an extract here). The scene had the look of a water colour, the type that artists on Captain Cook's voyages might have painted of scenes of the islands and the islanders they encountered.

But within the painting were actors playing out characters from the indigenous population and also the visitors in the tall ships from Britain. Scenes were played out, from pre-contact days, to contact up until a dramatic recreation of the death of Captain Cook in Hawaii.

Beautiful and moving, this gives a feel for what one scene showed, the mix of indigenous and European, arts and sciences:

If you get a chance, definitely add it to your to-do list for your next trip to London.

Its on until the 10th of December

The last days of the old Woolwich Ferries

A previous blog mentioned how keen I was to travel on the Woolwich ferry again - well there was a reason. The old reliables of Ernest Bevin, John Burns and James Newman, which have taking vehicles and pedestrians across since 1963, are about to be replaced.

Their last trips will be this week and then the ferry will close for 3 months from 6th October in order to change the piers for the two new vessels.

The old vessels seem to capture the 1960s, with seaside holiday wooden benches and smoking rooms and in a way its sad to see them go.

But the new ones will use a diesel-electric hybrid propulsion system so will be quieter and less polluting. And at least they will be replaced - there had been some suggestions to close the route down.

So recently I made my way down to docklands for one last trip across on a 1960s era Woolwich ferry....



Update: check out this "Ode to the Woolwich Ferry" from Londonist from 2 years ago

Visiting the International Maritime Organisation at 70

Many times, while heading up and down the Thames, I've passed the building above, headquarters of the International Maritime Organisation (IMO), but never had a chance to visit - until last weekend.

The IMO is the United Nations specialised agency responsible for shipping which was founded 70 years ago. It covers everything from safety at sea, to communications and AIS to environmental standards, as described in this useful overview video:


Last weekend was London Open House, that annual event when buildings all over the city open their doors to members of the public, and this year was the first that the IMO building was added to the list.

I arrived early on Sunday, which was, as previously mentioned, very, very wet. We had to bring IDs, sign in and had our photos taken for a security check. After that we had a tour which took about an hour of the main parts of the building.

In particular we got to see the main meeting rooms, where representatives of 174 Member States and three Associate Members meet to discuss and agree documents including conventions. As a UN body, these documents can have treaty status, as described here.

I've spent quite a bit time in meetings of another of the UN specialised agencies so was very interested in how their working methods compared. I'm not sure how often the guides had been asked how to raise procedural points of order in meetings! Anyhow, I soon found the UK's card:

As well as the main meeting room there were a couple of smaller ones for technical committees and we got to see behind the scenes views from the translator's booths:

All over the walls there was art work gifted by some of the member states: I was particularly struck by this stick chart from Oceania:

We also got a quick look at their cafeteria with a large roof garden (which you can actually see in the photo at top) which on a fine day would have a fantastic view:

A fascinating visit to an organisation that has an impact on all sailors of crafts whether small or large (or indeed huge).