The inner harbour

This one is taken from the swing bridge, which separates the outer from the inner harbour. Further upstream, but out of sight here, is the marina.

The tall mast belongs to the Grand Turk, a replica of an 18th century man o' war. She has featured in several films and is open for visits daily.

You might have noticed that the harbour is not fenced at this point, but accidents are thankfully rare, even after closing time.

Where folk don't get on?

A pair of cottages in … Arguments Yard! This is off Church Street, on the side leading down to the harbour.

We've already visited Blackburn's Yard, further down the street towards the Old Town Hall, but that takes you steeply away from the river and up to the abbey via the Donkey Path.

There are many strange street-names, and even some of the ordinary-sounding ones have unexpected origins. Who would expect a Grape Lane in Whitby? We're a long way from Champagne or Provence, after all. There is another narrow street of the same name in York, and there's a clue: narrow! Grape in neither case has anything to do with the fruit of the vine, but I'm getting ahead of myself, as Grape Lane is a few hundred yards away.

Back to Arguments: quite simply the name of the builder of some of these cottages, so it should really be Argument's Yard. There are still Arguments in Whitby, and no doubt arguments too.

Arms still open wide

The same classic view as yesterday, but with some Henrietta Street rooftops showing, and a bit of that fence without which …

No smoke from the kipper shed this day, unless the wind was blowing in the other direction.

The moors roads in both directions were closed for a time on Sunday; given the weather conditions today, I expect that Whitby will be cut off again, at least until the gritters get out.

Arms open wide

St Mary's church is now behind us, whilst Henrietta Street and Tate Hill beach are out of sight directly below. We have come to the edge of the cliff, thankfully protected by a sturdy fence. Is that a whiff of smoked kippers from Fortune's shed?

Be careful if you continue on foot to Robin Hood's Bay, as the path is open to the cliff for much of the way. It is a lovely walk, only really dangerous in bad weather, and Bay is a must if you have a few days in the area. Walk it one way and take the bus back, or else hire cycles and follow the old railway line.

I remarked recently on JorvikDailyPhoto that I needed to pay more attention to my vertical lines; the sloping horizon in this shot reveals another area to work on! For a superb aerial photograph of the harbour, including the abbey, church and a view to Sandsend, go here, but you might stay longer than intended.

Headstones and headland

Just a little further into St Mary's churchyard to take in the west cliff and the coastline towards the pretty little village of Sandsend. The road drops steadily down to that point, then climbs steeply to Lythe and the moors road to Guisborough and Teesside.

The cliffs are unstable here, and several graves and headstones have been moved from the edge to a safer place to prevent them ending up in  Henrietta Street below. That's probably an exaggeration, as there is a certain amount of rough ground before you get to the cottages themselves.

St Mary's and the sea

We've just gone round the back of the church to get the view over the harbour and sea. That's the North Sea,  and had you gone down to the beach a few days ago you would have been able to see people bathing! The annual charity dip on Boxing Day (26th December) always attracts some photographers, but not this one! Hardy folk in fancy dress sponsored by friends and family, brave the icy waters to raise money for charity. They don't usually stay in the water very long, and I would be surprised if the event has not come under the scrutiny of the much-maligned Health and Safety Executive.

There are people who take the plunge along this coast every day of the year, even if only for a few minutes in winter, and surfers are a common sight. Tough, these northerners, but back to the church. The white-painted railing leads up to another gallery, now out of use.

The large Georgian window is evidence of the controversial alterations which destroyed the cruciform shape of the church in favour of a spacious rectangular area which was then filled with square box-pews. The older single bench pews go back to at least the 17th century, and in some of them you can find Civil War  (1642-1649) graffiti carved into the woodwork.

Nu sculon herigean …

To wish you well for 2010, here is a more complete picture of Cædmon being called and inspired to rock the world to the Creator's praise.

You can listen to Cædmon's hymn in the early West Saxon dialect and read it at the same time. This is 7th century English, before the arrival of the Normans and the influence of French on the language.

Bonne Année à tous mes lecteurs !