Harbour tails ...

The Wonder Dog has a nemesis down at the harbour these days. He's a great big ginger tom cat, and he takes no prisoners. When he sees us he comes racing out of the shadows hissing and fussing and squaring up for a fight. The Wonder Dog, who is more of a lover than a fighter, hides behind my legs and tries very hard to be invisible. I do a funny little sideways shuffle to work my way around the ferocious feline without getting my legs shredded or my dog massacred in the process. I'm guessing that this particular moggy's got a good supply of dinner in the form of left-over fish, and he's not about to start sharing it with anyone any time soon ... .

We trot on trying hard to look like we're not bothered. Although the truth is that I'm always a bit too shaken by the mad cat experience to take a photo of him. I mean he's really scary. It's a pity as he'd make a very fine photo with his back arched, his fur standing on end, and his lips drawn back to give us a clear view of his razor sharp teeth. But it's like he's possessed or something, and, as I can't predict how he'll behave, I always chose the safer option and hurry on past him to the relative safety of the inner harbour. 

By the time we reach the life-savers' cottage on the top of the hill we've recovered our composure. It's a sweet little building. These days it operates as a museum about life-saving along the Costa. Here in Sant Feliu they used to make buoyancy aids from the local cork. They'd fashion them into great cumbersome jackets that would have helped keep people up, but must have made it almost impossible for them to move through the water in the direction of their rescuers. 

We normally meet a standard schnauzer up there these mornings, who's a great deal friendlier than the ginger tom. He makes the Wonder Dog look like his Mini Me.

Well, I'll be schnauzered!
The cottage was built by the Shipwreck Rescue Association back in 1897 as a place of shelter for anyone who was shipwrecked off the coast of Sant Feliu. 

Local men volunteered their time, taking turns to do their bit to help those in distress. Being a sea-faring village the focus here has always been on the seaward, rather than the landward horizon. Everyone would have been able to empathise with the plight of those in trouble and would have held a sincere wish that, should their situations ever be reversed, someone would come to their aid too.

The cottage sits on a small cliff at the mouth of the old harbour, so the folk up there would have enjoyed a good view of everything that was taking place round about.

Back in the old days the fishing boats would have been landed on the beach, where they would have sat waiting for their next expedition. These days the beach looks very different.

And, thankfully, we still have a few lifeguards around.

All the best for now,

Bonny x