Scott and Emmeline – Deadgull
Not every comment on social media makes a difference.
This one didn’t even get a reply.
A few weeks ago, I posted about a huge moth that had interrupted my morning routine. Amongst the comments was one from an account called Deadgull. The comment itself wasn’t anything special. The name was. Alongside it was a little seagull skeleton wearing a beanie and carrying a surfboard.
I was intrigued.
Curious, I clicked through to their profile. It was full of energy, great illustrations and some brilliant ideas. I didn’t know who Scott and Emmeline were, but I knew I wanted to.
A message led to a coffee.
The coffee led to a friendship.
A couple of weeks later, the first boxes of Deadgull T-shirts and hoodies arrived at Furbellow & Co.
Things have moved quickly for Scott and Emmeline. Recently married, they moved to Whitby at the beginning of May after falling in love with the town during a holiday. Whitby seems to bring out the best in them. Since then they’ve thrown themselves into their new life here with infectious enthusiasm.
The sea has become a big part of their lives. If they’re not working on Deadgull, they’re usually at the beach, learning to surf.
Deadgull was born on the beach.
Their daughter spotted something in the sand.
“Look… a turtle.”
Her brother was quick to correct her.
“It’s a seagull.”
Scott and Emmeline looked at each other.
Deadgull.
That was it.
Since then they’ve been building a brand inspired by the coast, surfing and not taking life too seriously.
You don’t really have conversations with Scott. You catch ideas as they fly past.
Fortunately, Emmeline seems to know which ones are worth chasing.
It’s hard not to get swept along by their enthusiasm. I have a feeling this is only the beginning.
If you see them around Whitby, say hello.
Chances are they’ll be smiling.
Chances are Scott will be wearing a beanie.
And if you can’t find them in town, there’s every chance they’re down at the beach.
Long live DeadGull.
Kiddies Corner
Every summer the railings are lined with bright orange crab lines, buckets half full of seawater at children’s feet and parents trying to untangle knots.
This is Kiddies Corner.
It sits right in the heart of Whitby harbour, yet somehow feels like its own little world. Perhaps it’s because it’s tucked away below the level of the road, beside the swing bridge. Or perhaps because, once you’re down there, everyone is focused on exactly the same thing.
Crabbing.
Grandparents stand back at first, but rarely for long. Before you know it they’re peering over the railings, offering advice and quietly reliving their own younger days.
It isn’t long before someone shouts,
“I’ve got one!”
A few moments later another voice replies,
“This one’s bigger!”
The competition has begun.
Somewhere in the middle of it all a parent is trying to calm an excited child while untangling another line. They’ll joke that’s all they remember doing, but ask them again and they’ll remember something very different. They’ll remember the excitement of that first crab.
Grandparents remember bringing their own children here years ago. Now they get to watch those children teach their own.
I’ve been there as a child and now as a parent, you never know, I might be that grandad sat on the bench smiling one day. But more likely I’ll be at the railing with the rest of them.
Every now and then the swing bridge opens, stopping everything for a few moments as boats pass through. Then, almost immediately, everyone’s attention returns to the water below.
Someone emptying a bucket can create a stir. The seawater finds its way back into the harbour much quicker than the crabs, who sometimes need pointing in the right direction. Fingers get nipped. Crabs are compared. Victories are celebrated.
As the afternoon draws to a close, the leftover bait is thrown into the harbour. Gulls dive, squawk and squabble while buckets are emptied, lines wound in and nets packed away.
The crabs all go back.
The memories don’t.
For generations, Kiddies Corner has been quietly doing the same job.
Making memories.
Ecoliving Dust Pan and brush
We needed a new dustpan and brush for the shop.
The plastic one broke.
Again.
Every morning we sweep the pavement outside Furbellow& Co. Being just a few steps from the beach, Sandgate has a habit of collecting sand between the paving stones. A decent dustpan and brush isn’t glamorous, but it gets used every single day.
Out of curiosity, I asked AI to recommend one that matched the same criteria we use when choosing products for the shop.
Beautiful.
Useful.
Made properly.
It quickly suggested several beautifully made options.
They were also rather expensive.
I’m happy to pay more for something that’s worth it. “Buy cheap, buy twice” is something I find myself saying fairly often. But I also enjoy finding products that offer real value.
A little more searching led me to this.
A galvanised steel pan with a FSC beech handle, paired with a matching brush made from beech and natural tampico fibres. Magnets hidden in the handles keep the two neatly together when they’re put away.
Have you ever described a dustpan and brush as beautiful?
I hadn’t either.
But I have found myself smiling while using it.
Not because sweeping the pavement is particularly enjoyable, but because there’s something satisfying about using an everyday object that’s been made well enough to last.
If Furbellow & Co. ever stocked dustpans and brushes…
…they’d probably look something like this.
From Behind the Counter
Sunset at the beach
My son Finley came rushing back home when he realised there was a small swell, ideal for an evening surf. We all got a bit carried away and stayed much later than planned. But when its like this you don’t leave early.
On the Stereo
Kind Of Blue – Miles Davies Junior.
Ive only recently discovered this album. Im not a huge fan of Jazz but this feels a bit different. I guess the clue was in the title.
Party Time
It was meant to be a Fourth of July party, but one half of the hosting couple ended up in America watching the football.
It was quickly rebranded as a Bastille Day party, although that seems to have been superseded by another football match.
Either way, I’m all about this French Toast Board.
