At long last, the Festival of the Sea was underway, and what a sight it was. The old rail yard was being used as the exhibit area and tent pitching location, and many tents were already set up. People were exhibiting many wares and objects relating to the sea and nautical life. One man had brought an entire ship's wheel, and another was exhibiting model boats. Another person was teaching people how to speak like a sailor (combined with nautical slang and technical terminology), and further people were showcasing homemade arts and crafts.
The only problem was the sky had turned a rather unnapealing shade of grey.
Down on the beach, people were building very elaborate sand castles as part of a competition. Sitting near one of them was Harvey, his crane arm having been attached to a large ornament.
"Ready?" called a man on the ground.
"Ready!" Goldie replied, and pulled back on one of the levers. This shifted Harvey's gearing to run his crane arm, which pulled his chain taught. This, in turn, lifted the ornament into the air.
"Easy! Over to the left!"
"Do remember my crane arm doesn't lift very high," Harvey said, with the load swinging about in the wind. His arm swung around to the left, and the object wobbled dangerously in the air.
"Right, down we go!" Goldie called, and the arm began to lower. It dropped into place, and the ornament was in place. As Harvey's crane arm withdrew from the region, the other castles looked to be finished.
Then the judges came by. They took a look at the various castles. "I believe that this castle is the best," said one of the judges, referring to the one Harvey had helped to build.
"I really must protest this decision!" said the familiar voice of Posey.
Goldie rolled her eyes. "Oh no, here we go," she said.
"They built that one with the help of that iron monster!" Posey said, pointing at Harvey.
"I'm a crane tank!" Harvey protested. "I'm built to lift things. Besides, the competition rules never said you couldn't use construction machinery. Look at that group using a JCB to build a moat!"
"Still, I must protest whether this is permitted," Posey said. "I'll be filing an official report." She walked away in a huff.
"There's not many managers around here to complain to!" Goldie shouted after her. "Good Lord, that woman is insufferable."
Several of the others were down at the station. Izzy, naturally, was eating a gigantic ice cream.
"I have no idea how you can be eating ice cream on a day like today," Zipp said.
"Well, we're all British, right? A unique part of Britishness is the ability to eat ice cream in the rain. It's practically in our DNA!"
"That would certainly explain it in your case," Sunny said. "You're dad's Scottish, right?"
"Yep!"
"But both of my parents are American, which doesn't explain it in my case."
The conversation was interrupted by the rumbling of diesel engines, as Sophie rattled into the station, towing a very strange machine. It was painted a deep red, and had windows on either end. A chimney poked up through the roof at one end, which also seemed to be attached to a bogie covered in mechanical equipment. And many, many windows were incorporated into the bodywork.
"What on Earth is that?" Izzy asked. "It looks so bizarre!"
Pipp sprinted over, having stopped Sophie in place. "Come on over! I've got somebody I'd like to introduce!"
The trio walked onto the station and over to the bay platform, where the convoy was sitting. Sophie smiled at them. "It's not everyday that I tow in a railmotor!" she said.
The thing she was coupled to sighed. "I should have known not to use this coal. It is bad for my firebox."
A tall, thin man was standing next to the railmotor. He had quite a gaunt appearance, with a sharply defined face, and milky blue eyes. As seemed to be standard around here he wore a boilersuit over hard wearing trousers and a course shirt. "The weather may not have been best for your mainline test run, Alexandra," he conceeded. He then noticed the others. "Good afternoon, Zipp."
"Hey dad," Zipp replied. "I take it the run down went well."
"Better than it could have," he admitted. Sensing the other's confusion, he decided to introduce himself. "Robert Haven, Duke of Devon. My wife and her train are yet to arrive, but I have an idea to greet them." He looked over to the brass band next to the platform. "Tell me, do you know the following piece?"
About half an hour later, the preparations were ready, and all was ready for the stunt. "Here she comes!" Sophie called, having been shiffled through the yard and turned on the turntable in the meantime.
Moments later, a tank engine coupled to two coaches steamed into view. He was painted a dark olive green, and had six driving wheels and two trailing wheels. Two large, slab-sided tanks sat atop his running board and on the sides of his boiler. A large dome and tall chimney decorated the top of the boiler and smokebox respectively, and a pair of splashers covered his front wheels. His huge bunker dominated the rear of the cab, and the sides of the tanks had the letters SOUTHERN written in block capitals, as well as the letter B and the number 473 below it.
As he came to a stop, he noticed the preparations. "Crikey! You'd think the King was coming to visit!"
Just as the door of one of the carriages opened, and Lady Haven began to step forth, Robert gave the signal. "Now!"
The brass band began to blast a loud and elaborate fanfare over the station, rather like something you'd hear when a member of the Royal Family had arrived somewhere.
Lady Haven looked understandably surprised. "This is overdoing it a bit, is it not?" she asked. "I'm not a monarch!"
"Mom!" Pipp called, rather disrupting the moment. "You made it!"
"Hello Pipp," the older woman smiled, as she made her way down the platform. "Thank you for the smooth ride, Ray."
The person on his footplate, a person with blue skin, saluted as Ray smiled. "Never a problem, ma'am," he said.
Lady Haven smiled as she stepped forward further. "This is all very pleasant, even with the grey sky," she admitted. "But whose idea was it to have such an elaborate arrival?"
"Dad, probably," Zipp said.
Lady Haven turned to Robert. "Really, this joke again?" she sighed. "I am aware that you're not originally from Britain and as such not all the customs are totally familiar, but this level of arrival is reserved for the reigning monarch."
Robert smiled. "I see. Even so, it only seemed fitting, for you are the Queen of my heart."
Lady Haven's facial expression softened a bit. "Thank you, Robert," she smiled. "Now, shall we go and 'sea' all there is to see about the sea?"
Thunder boomed overhead in an increasingly grey sky.
A few hours passed by, and things seemed to calm down a bit, apart from Posey complaining about the cream teas having cream and jam the wrong way around. This, of course, led to other problems.
As Fraser rumbled into the town square, dropping off some passengers, he engaged in idle conversation with a passenger. "Nice weather we're having, isn't it?" he asked.
"You could say that," the passer-by said. "I thought it always snowed in Scotland."
"That's Norway," Fraser replied. He then saw the blocked line up ahead. "Oh fid-"
Then, just as suddenly as before, his face vanished, before reappearing seconds later. "Dlesticks."
"That was weird," said the passenger.
Eventually, the crowds gathered around a large stage, built for musicians to perform on. Izzy brought two people over to her friends. "Look guys!" she called. "It's my parents! They made it!"
The man standing with her was a man of pinkish skin with short, blue hair, and wearing pants and a floral shirt entirely innapropriate for the weather. In many ways, he seemed like a male version of Izzy. The woman, on the other hand, had bluish-yellow skin with orange hair, and was wearing a heavy rain coat atop hard wearing pants and a shirt. Altogether very sensibly dressed.
"Hello!" said the man, with a moderate Scottish accent. "I see that you are all Izzy's friends! Certainly quite a nice town you have here, if a bit windy at the moment. It's like the northern gales I used to experience on Barra."
"It's certainly nice to meet you all," the woman smiled. "I'm Aurora Blaze, and this is my husband Isaac Moonbow."
Moments later, the crowd went quiet as Argyle Starshine stepped out onto stage. "Good afternoon," he said, "and welcome to Falmouth. I'm sorry we couldn't have had better weather, but we have to work with what we have. Generations of sailors did, after all."
There was no response from the crowd, most of whom looked annoyed.
"It is my proud honour at this point in the festivities to introduce our musical offering. To sing a specially composed song for the day, I am proud to welcome the Longest Johns to the stage!"
Posey, who was in the crowd, then began complaining. "What happened to the Fisherman's Friends? Aren't they supposed to be singing? How can we have a group of musicians from Bristol performing at a Cornish festival?"
"When was the last time you didn't complain about something?" Goldie asked, who had joined the crowd.
The crowd began to talk amongst themselves as the weather continued to get worse. Suddenly, black clouds and a full on lightning storm erupted overhead.
In the engine yard, Porter looked up. "Can I just say that this doesn't look good."