The great thaw brings drama to the banks of the Taw.

Yesterday morning I was trudging back in the sludge from the old retainer's place up at Brynsworthy and I was making my way over the Longbridge and from a distance I could see that large flows of ice were floating downriver some of these were quite considerable slabs and were acting as rafts and barges for all manner of detritus, mostly foliage of some sort or another but there seemed to be a awful lot of blue plastic cider bottles amoung it all. I happen to know for a fact that out in the Estuary there is a large floating blue plastic island of ice dragon white lightning cider bottles just ebbing and flowing with the tide. Anyways, as I was approaching the Town bank I could see a crowd of people looking over into the water pointing at one of the larger icebergs, others were joining them drawn by the commotion and by the time I trotted up to have a gawp there really was quite a crowd. Mobile phones were being drawn frantic calls were being made and shaky video was being shot. Not being one to shy from any sort of occurrence I jostled my way to the front of the crowd and peered over into the shitty brown, sludgy waters beneath and there lo and behold was the cause of such excitement, floating on a large slab of ice were four little kittens.
You could see how frightened the little mites were. Within a few few moments the piece of ice upon which they were precariously balanced was nudged forward  under the arches of the bridge and out of sight. A great groan arose from the multitude now gathered as the kittens disappeared and people then surged across the road to the other side to see if the little buggers would come out the other side. After a few anxious minutes they reappeared and a great cheer went up however this was soon replaced by more frantic activity as they were drawn into a faster current and headed down river at quite a rate of knots. People pursued their plight from alongside the bank and a right hue and cry was raised. As one we realised that something had to be done before they passed Castle Quay, as then they would be out in a deep channel and be carried off out into the bay.
At Castle Quay a crowd formed on the shore and one by one some of the more stout and hardy souls waded into the icy torrent supporting each other around the waist and soon formed a human chain across the nearest and relatively shallow channel. Now the waiting game began. All hope for the kittens souls now rested upon the likelihood of them floating into this particular channel and not into the further faster and more treacherous one neighbouring it. Things started to look rather bleak as it became apparent that the mites were being drawn into the deeper stream. This realisation was greeted by a massed groan as people who had been holding their breath, exasperatedly began to exhale, infants could be heard whimpering. We were all on tenterhooks. At that moment divine intervention was made manifest as the clouds parted and Chivenor's finest hove into view. The search and rescue helicopter hovered above the river and with the down draft from it's blades expertly steered the icy raft into the correct channel and with a slight acceleration the kittens were borne upon this man made tide towards the shore and into the arms of their fearless rescuers. Oh such joy! The kittens were saved!  I haven't witnessed anything of the like since Merlin from Britain's Got Talent escaped from a tank of water in the Queens Theatre panto last year, such was the drama.
With an arcing swoop above the river and out over Shaplands the helicopter bid farewell to the crowd below, the pilot waving acknowledging the thanks of the multitude. Bleddy hell if I'm not mistaken it turned out to be my old mate HRH Prince William, that's what I reckon though others around me weren't quite so sure. The crowd by now greatly cheered began to dispersed as the kittens were handed over to the lady from the animal ambulance.

Over a restorative and calming Martell and mince pie in the Rolle Quay I reflected upon what had occurred with the lads at the bar. We came to the conclusion that some so and so had obviously gone down to the river to drown the little blighters but the stupid sod had forgot it was icy so he'd thrown them off the bank in the cover off darkness and they'd had landed on the ice which had built up along the shore over the last week or so. With the thaw they ice had become dislodged and as it floated off downstream the kittens had wrestled themselves free and their perilous plight became apparent.

After another brandy I raised a hearty toast to the Air Sea Rescue crews down at Chivenor, the Animal Ambulance and the good people of Barum. Hoorah. Have a happy new year!