Crossing the Bar

This map from 1911 shows Newburgh Bar. Talpa lives in the village, as we did until 1997. The Bar of any harbour is that difficult piece of foaming water that is the hardest to cross, beneath is a dangerous spit of sand.
Crossing the Bar is a Royal Marine way of describing the passing of a former colleague. Yesterday a friend, Frank Wayt, crossed. He was a huge character, always a Marine, never sought promotion, just got on with his life as a Commando. One of his postings, probably his favourite, was as a guide on HMS Victory. It was a Royal Marine, Sgt Secker who carried Nelson below to the Orlop deck at Trafalgar; most will tell you that the Royal Navy has been on our backs ever since. I always taunted Frank that he was so ancient he probably carried Secker's musket.

So Frank has crossed, he is at the Final Rendevous, see you again old friend. 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson - 1889

Sunset and evening star, 
      And one clear call for me! 
And may there be no moaning of the bar, 
      When I put out to sea, 

   But such a tide as moving seems asleep, 
      Too full for sound and foam, 
When that which drew from out the boundless deep 
      Turns again home. 

   Twilight and evening bell, 
      And after that the dark! 
And may there be no sadness of farewell, 
      When I embark; 

   For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place 
      The flood may bear me far, 
I hope to see my Pilot face to face 
      When I have crost the bar.