I had quite a magnificent maritime surprise today. I was in Woolwich as I had a question to ask at the library, but had been told to return later. To kill a bit of time, I thought I would trundle along the Thames for a while, probably as far as Thamesmead, and then head back. It was turning out to be quite a humdrum afternoon: I’m fond of London’s river, but it can seem pretty dull and docile.

All of a sudden though, I caught sight of something I had not expected at all: a seventeenth or eighteenth century gallon, her sails furled but flying a large Spanish ensign, was cruising gracefully towards central London. I couldn’t quite believe my eyes: it was as though a vision from four hundred years ago had suddenly cut it’s way into modern London, or the fabled armada had finally arrived.

Obviously some kind of replica, what she was doing here I’m not sure, and strangely I never saw her again even when I turned around and headed back to Woolwich. Yet it was just such an uncanny, surprising sight that I instantly felt I needed to record it here.