05-Sep-2026
I love visiting my birth city, and after a few weeks' absence, it seemed nothing short of vital to go and check everything was still there...
Peel always seems to do a wildlife special. Last time it was guillemots. This time, we saw not a single one. There were, on the other hand, seals. At least half a dozen of them, just cruising the bay:
Hard to photograph are seals...
One of them was singing. It's a powerful, other-worldly sound that reminds you of a possible explanation for all the legends of mermaids.
But I'm getting a little ahead of myself... Chronologically speaking, before the seals, there was a walk up onto the Headlands. (And actually, to be strictly, strictly accurate, that was the second thing -- after a cup of Traa dy Liooar's inimitable hot chocolate...)
Views from the Headlands, scene of many a childhood walk. I got lost up here once when I was small. Just trotted a bit too far from where mum was seated, lost my bearings (I was always orientationally challenged), and experienced a fear that I can still remember
Then back along the prom:
Then lunch. At one of Peel's many seafood-purveyors (a kipper fix was totally necessary after all those kipperless weeks away)
Kipper omelette today
Then round the breakwater, from which vantage-point we saw the seals.
I don't think I've ever featured this chap, who now lives in the lifeboat house:
He's the figurehead from the Norwegian vessel St George, which was wrecked behind Peel Hill in a violent storm on 7 October 1889. Volunteers crewing the lifeboat John Monk managed to save all on board.
It's a rousing story:
I was reminded of the T.E. Brown poem, entitled The Peel Life-Boat. It begins:
Of Charley Cain, the cox,
And the thunder of the rocks,
And the ship St George --
How he balked the sea-wolf's gorge
Of its prey --
Southward bound from Norraway;
And the fury and the din,
And the horror and the roar,
Rolling in, rolling in,
Rolling in upon the dead lee-shore!
The whole poem is here, and you can listen to John Kennaugh's very good recitation of it here.
The figurehead used to stand outside the lifeboat station, and as a child I found it slightly scary. Something about the size, and the looming stance, and the staring eyes (I think the refurb has made him look slightly friendlier).
Anyway, next came the rest of the classic Peel circuit: Back round the harbour, up Michael Street, and into the beautiful gardens of St German's Cathedral, where again autumn is doing its thing:
And home on the bus.
For free, as I now have my wonder-working bus pass...