On this day 29th March

St Colman’s Cathedral, Cobh, Ireland with fishing nets in foreground

Another from my collection of photographs taken on this day in years past and, another from my visit to the south coast of Ireland in March 2015. This is the coastal town of Cobh, just outside Cork. In the background is St Colman’s cathedral; construction began in 1869 but numerous revisions to the original designs meant that it was not consecrated until 1919.

The fishing nets in the foreground remind us that is a working maritime town. Apart from fishing it would once also have seen transatlantic liners pausing here before heading to America, the most famous (for all the wrong reasons) being the RMS Titanic.

It is fascinating if slightly grim to think that this small town and its cathedral (probably still covered in scaffolding at that time) would be the last sight of land for the passengers and crew of that ill fated vessel.

On this day 28th March


Today’s photograph was taken in 2015 on a visit to Kinsale on the south coast of Ireland. One of the things I loved about Ireland was the colourful buildings such as the blue and yellow ones up on the hillside above the harbour.

On this day 27th March

Cork skyline

For those of you who have been following my photographic endeavours for a little while you may recognise that I tend to hunt out the more obscure parts of the places I visit. This is a view of Cork taken today in 2015. In the centre of town there are lots of marvellous buildings and, of course, a rather splendid river but I turned my camera to the edges of the city and photographed the skyline of a church spire and telephone wires.

Calendar 2022

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Each year since 2016 I have produced a calendar for sale via this website. It’s a great way to exhibit my work and every year I try to think of a new theme, something a little different to a traditional calendar.

You can view examples of photographs from earlier calendars in the galleries linked at the bottom of this page.

The theme of the calendar is “Mysterious London”.

It is an old, rambling town full of tiny corners, easily missed. I have lived here for a long time and I have explored and photographed some of its more obscure and mysterious landmarks that are often passed by and ignored.

This calendar includes some of these photographs.

They range from the quirky to the dramatic. Some of them might seem a little mundane but I have tried to seek out the mystery and sense of potential that lies within all of them.

Every place has a link with its past. When we look at something we see it today but, if we look closely, we can see the past and future spreading behind and in front of us.

I hope that you enjoy viewing the pictures as much as I enjoyed exploring and taking them.

This year’s calendar includes extra interactivity:

If you would like to find out more about each of the places photographed, what happened there and why I chose them, scan the QR code or go to the web address on each page.

Click on the links below to view examples of some of the works that were included in my calendars from earlier years.


Bike parts

For my first calendar I took photographs of bike parts, primarily Campagnolo, the premier maker of high end cycle components.



In 2017 I chose a very different theme – flowers. Mainly close-ups and quite a few unusual views of sunflowers.

In 2018 there was a choice of calendars

Cycling in Islington

Street photographs of the London Borough of Islington.

English landscapes

Photographs taken around the English countryside.


Riding to the end of the road – the Dorset coast

The 2019 calendar was dedicated to the first part of my cycling photography project, “Riding to the end of the Road”. The pictures were all taken where tracks and roads came to an end on the Dorset coast.


Riding to the end of the road – from the city to the coast

And in 2020 I continued the “Riding to the end of the Road” this time with photographs taken on the ride from London to the Essex coast at Bradwell. These photographs were also the subject of my exhibition at the beginning of 2020.


Like most people in 2020 (when I was putting together the next year’s calendar) I was locked down so my horizons were very limited. I raided my archive of old colour slides for the 2021 calendar..

On this day 26th March

Lincoln Cathedral

On the 26th March 2018 I visited the cathedral city of Lincoln and stared up at its tower soaring into the Spring sky. The cathedral has stood for almost a thousand years and was once the tallest building in the world.

On this day 25th March

A photograph of Bridlington South Beach on low tide showing a group of boys silhouetted against the sun
Bridlington South Beach

From my archive and another trip down memory lane for me (thank you for indulging me). This photograph was taken today in 2018 in Bridlington in the the East Riding of Yorkshire. We are on the harbourside looking southwards.

My visit to Yorkshire was part of an exploration into my family history – some of my ancestors came from that part of the world (hence when we were young, Yorkshire puddings every Sunday lunchtime – or was it called dinnertime??)

On this day 22nd March

Main road

Today’s photograph was taken in 2015 on a visit to the Shropshire town of Bridgnorth perched above the River Severn. It’s a lovely little town with a warren of side streets – but well signposted!

On the day I visited the town was playing host to a tractor festival so a plethora of ancient agricultural engineering was on display.

On this day 17th March

Hadleigh Castle, Essex

Today’s photograph was taken on this day two years ago. At that time I was recovering from a broken collarbone so my explorations were confined to train assisted rambles. This one involved a train ride to Leigh on Sea in Essex and than a hike across some fields to the castle. Building began in 1215 and it was refortified during the Hundred Years War. In Georgian times the towers were used by customs men to keep a look out for smugglers up the Thames estuary below.

The Great Eastern

This is the first in an occasional series of posts looking at a particular place and events that happened there in the past. When I take a photograph I am always struck by that sense of moment it represents; for a fraction of a second I captured this instant. In that moment I also feel connected to all the time before and all the time after. In these articles I want to explore that time before to answer the question, what happened here? I hope that you find them interesting. To keep up to date with future posts on this and other subjects, remember to click the Follow button.

If you have arrived on this page from the 2022 calendar, welcome! Thank you very much for buying it (or having it bought for you). I do hope you like the photographs it contains.

If you have arrived here by other means, also welcome.

I hope that however you came upon this page, you find it interesting. If you have any comments, please let me know below.

Joggers run along the Thames Riverside Walk, cyclists pick up or return Santander Cycles from the docking station, and supermarket delivery vans pull up to provide residents with their weekly groceries. It’s a quiet side road today but at the heart of it stand the vestiges of a momentous event in maritime history.

A jogger runs along the Thames Riverside Path close to the launch site of the SS Great Eastern

All that remains to tell you of these events are an incongruous line of weathered wooden beams overlooked by blocks of flats. At this place two men met; one of them possibly the greatest engineer in the world who had changed the appearance of Britain with railways, bridges and tunnels. The second was a young man, only in his twenties but already at the height of his chosen career; photography. He would produce one of the defining images of the 19th century.

It is a full length portrait of a man, a slight figure wearing a tall hat to make himself look taller. He is smoking a cigar. Behind him are coils and coils of huge chains. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his clothes, whilst of a good quality, look shabby; there appears to be some mud on his shoes and on his trouser legs. Underneath the hat his hair looks awry – it has not been cut for some time. This is a man who has other things on his mind than his appearance. Beneath his dark eyebrows he is staring out of the photograph at some scene beyond our sight.

That scene would be the efforts currently being made to launch the Great Eastern, at that time, the largest ship ever created, and the man is the engineer, Isambard Kingdom Brunel. The photograph was taken by Robert Howlett on the 3rd November 1857 at Millwall in East London.

Brunel was still only in his fifties but by now he could look back on a number of engineering achievements; a tunnel under the Thames, the Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol, the Great Western Railway, and the SS Great Britain (the largest ship at its time of launch and the first propeller driven transatlantic liner). Now he was watching his latest invention as it was prepared to be launched into the Thames, and it was not going well.

The SS Great Eastern was bigger than her predecessor, the Great Britain. She was 211 metres (692 feet) long and she was capable of carrying 4000 passengers. As well as a propeller she boasted paddle wheels each 17 metres (56 feet) in diameter . The ship was designed to travel non-stop to India and Australia without having to refuel. It was the largest and possibly the most ambitious project of Brunel’s career. He may already have been aware that he was suffering from kidney disease – the Great Eastern would be a fitting pinnacle to his lifetime’s work.

The construction and launch of the ship would be mired in difficulties, however. Brunel worked with John Scott Russell. Scott Russell owned a ship builders yard on the Thames at Millwall and this was where the vessel would be built and launched. The two men had worked together before and had got on well but on this occasion there would be disagreements. Brunel was used to making all the decisions but Russell Scott, as a ship builder, felt he knew how it should be constructed.

Building the ship was noisy, hot and claustrophobic. Three million rivets were driven into the vessel to hold it together. For the workers it must have felt almost like entering hell each day. The work was dangerous and many of the construction crew would fall to their deaths before the ship was launched.

Eventually the ship was ready for launching and a date was set – the 3rd November 1857. The event became something of a public affair much to Brunel’s annoyance who wanted to keep it low key. Crowds of people gathered to watch the occasion. The next day The Times wrote up the story (at that point the ship was called the Leviathan):

Men and women of all classes were joined together in one amicable pilgrimage to the East, for on that day at some hour unknown, the Leviathan was to be launched at Millwall … For two years, London – and we may add the people of England – had been kept in expectation of the advent of this gigantic experiment, and their excitement and determination to be present at any cost are not to be wondered at when we consider what a splendid chance presented itself of a fearful catastrophe …’

the Times, 4 November 1857

For at least one man it became a tragedy. John Donovan, one of the men operating the winch to lower the vessel into the water (sideways) was thrown into the air and killed. Several other men were seriously injured. In the event the ship got stuck and could not be launched. It was not until January the following year that the Great Eastern finally took to the water.

The original budget had been £500,000 but the launch alone ended up costing £120,000.

It was on that day in November 1857 that the photographer Robert Howlett took the picture of Brunel standing in front of the winching cables. Howlett was only 26 at the time but, like Brunel, he had already achieved a great deal in his chosen craft of photography. He had photographed veterans of the Crimean War, and worked with the artist William Powell Frith to take photographs to assist in the painting of “Derby Day”. And he had been commissioned by Queen Victora to photograph the frescos at Buckingham Palace.

The Illustrated Times had commissioned him to photograph the launch of the new ship. His photograph of Brunel is seen as one of the first “environmental” portraits, taken in the subject’s own surroundings rather than in a studio as was usually the case in that era. Howlett photographed the ship itself and some of the other personnel involved that day. Another photograph shows Brunel and others standing together and looking in unison off to their right. It looks like this was not posed and Howlett has caught them reacting to something occurring out of shot.

As Howlett took the photographs and Brunel waited anxiously for the ship to be launched, we can only imagine the conversation between the two men. They must have got on as Brunel hired Howlett the following Spring to photograph the construction of the bridge across the Tamar between Devon and Cornwall. By then the engineer was unwell and unable to make the journey to see the development in person so he used Howlett to act as his eyes.

They certainly had a lot in common. Both were hard working and driven men. And, tragically, both were to die within a year or so of this day. In September 1859 just before the Great Eastern’s maiden journey across the Atlantic Brunel suffered a stroke and died a few days later. Howlett died barely a year after he had taken this photograph, on the 2nd December 1858. He was just twenty seven.

As for the Great Eastern it was originally built to take passengers to India and Australia but it could not compete with lighter and faster vessels. The opening of the Suez Canal also sounded its death knell for the journey east – it couldn’t fit. Instead it was used for the transatlantic services but even here it could not make money. However it did play a crucial part in connecting North America with Europe when it was used to lay the first transatlantic telegraph cable in 1865. Here its size helped; it was the only vessel large enough to carry the cable. After a short period as an advertising hoarding the ship was broken up in 1888.

The weathered beams that made up the launch ramp are now overlooked by blocks of flats

The scene of this drama today is quiet and tranquil. The beams that would have launched the Great Eastern stand in a small park next to the Thames and surrounded by blocks of flats. Sometime ago I wrote about the idea of capturing time past in a photograph. It was inspired by the thought that these wooden beams connected us to the drama of that day in November 1857. The events seep through the ancient timbers that span the park and if you stand here silently and place your hands upon the ancient timbers you can almost experience the noise and sights of that day.

Further reading

Planning, building and launching the Great Eastern



The life and works of Isambard Kingdom Brunel


The life and works of Robert Howlett





On this day 10th March

From my collection of photographs I have taken in previous years this one was taken today two years ago in Trafalgar Square. I was struck by the little boy’s red shoes and the approaching pigeons.