Who am I?

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An individual, of no great importance, who is unable to see enjoyment of the natural world as an arena for competition. I catch fish, watch birds, derive immense pleasure from simply looking at butterflies, moths, bumble-bees, etc - without the need for rules! I am Dylan and this is my blog - if my opinions offend? Don't bother logging on again - simple!

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Saturday, 4 April 2026

The Wild Life of Dylan

I am sharing Dylan's eulogy for those who were unable to attend the funeral service and for those of you who want to know more about Dylan's passion for the natural world and how it shaped his entire life. The eulogy was written by myself and Benno, with help from Dylan's brother's, Tim and Simon.

Normal service will resume shortly, we have now found the moth trap in the shed!



Let me tell you about my dad, whose name was Paul, but nearly everyone, (except his mother), knew him as Dylan, a nickname he was given due to his uncanny likeness to a large hippy rabbit from the TV show The Magic Roundabout.

This nickname caused me a great deal of confusion as a young child, because I also had a pet rabbit called Dylan. One day we had a phone call from a man asking to speak to Dylan, and I shouted to my mum, “there’s a man on the phone, he wants to speak to the rabbit!” Anyway, I digress already.

Dylan was born in London on 4th December 1955 to proud parents, Peter and Thelma Wrathall, who were both teachers. The eldest of three boys, it wasn’t too long before Tim and Simon came along and by the summer of 1960 the trio of brothers was complete.

The family moved from London to Hemel Hempstead before Simon was born, and began their time there in Coles Hill, before moving to Burley Road and then Warners End Road.

The three brothers were quite a force to be reckoned with, although Simon assures me that he was the “good one,” and Tim proudly assures me that if Dylan was ever in trouble, Tim would have been at his side, and probably partly responsible for whatever naughty thing they had done! Quite how my grandparents managed, I’m not sure! But I do know that they had a lot of support and friendship from their neighbour, and friend, Gladys and her family, who always helped with the children when Thelma was called in to teach at school.

From a very young age Dylan had a deep fascination with, and love of, the natural world. I think that this is where he always felt most at home and where his soul was most at ease. This early interest would be a thread that would follow him throughout his entire life. His passion for nature was contagious, and I have no doubt that everyone in this room will have experienced something magical in nature with him at some point, either in person or through his blog.

Dylan attended Westwick primary school and then Halsey secondary school in Hemel Hempstead, although by the time he reached his early teens he would have much rather have had a fishing rod in his hand than a pen, and as he progressed through his school career, the call of the fishing rod often won that battle for his time.  He wrote in one blog post about pike angling:

“ I was still at school, Halsey SM, Hemel Hempstead, when I caught my first Pike from the, gin clear, water of Pixie's Mere, Bourne End. Famed for the Tench it held, I caught my first six pounder here, whilst revising for my geography "A" level!”

But secondary school wasn’t all bad for Dylan, it was here that he also met his first wife, Julie, who would later become mine and Ben’s mum. She claims it was Dylan’s long, permed hair and flared jeans that first caught her eye, followed by romantic walks along the local canal… where Dylan would shoot rats with his air rifle! So romantic!


Dylan and Julie were married in October 1979, and Sarah (that’s me) was born in the following April. We lived in Bodwell Close in Hemel Hempstead, close to all the family. Ben was born in April 1984, and our little family of 4 was complete.

From the moment we could venture outside, dad instilled his love of nature in me and Ben. Growing up with Dylan as your dad was not your average childhood, as you can imagine. We spent a lot of time wandering through woodlands listening to bird calls and looking at butterflies and insects. We sat by lakes watching to see the ends of the fishing rods flicker, we waited on the Dunstable Downs at dusk to see the badgers poke their heads out of their sets and wander off into the darkness, and a whole lot more.



At other times Dylan would bring the wildlife into the house for us to see, I remember one night when I was about 5, I woke up to find my dad sitting on the end of my bed with a snuffling hedgehog he had found in the garden! He really wanted me to see it.

And maybe we will gloss over the time he released an angry sea gull into the tent that a very young Ben was inside.



The 1980’s were also the time when he followed, what he described himself as an “obsessive pursuit” of fishing. He, along with Simon and many friends, spent much of their time on the banks of waters such as Tring Reservoir, Clayden, Maple Durham, Stanborough and Tiddenfoot. There were also glorious fishing trips to the lochs of Scottland. I’m not sure of all the details of these trips, but I get the feeling that what happened in Scottland, stayed in Scottland!

Dylan wanted to catch big fish, and in 1993 he found himself on a sea fishing trip in Maderia, where he tagged and released Blue Marlin, which were well in excess of 5 meters long, and 700lb in weight. After that no freshwater fish could compete!

And so, and with a planned move from Hemel Hempstead to Kent for his new job at Unilever, Dylan put down his fishing obsession and picked up his binoculars and birdwatching obsession.


The 90’s were a complete change of scene from Hemel Hempstead, but Dylan’s love of the natural world once again grounded him in his new home and took him on many new adventures. This was a time of birds, moths, butterflies, incredible music gigs in London, and two London Marathons - none of us saw that coming! But he ran them in good time, and still managed to shout at me, “get the drinks in Fanny Anne,” as he ran past the pub where the family were supporting him from.


I guess I can’t really talk about Dylan, without talking about his love of beer. I know that many of you here will have had a drink or five with Dylan, and the pub was always a big part of his life, sometimes to his detriment. But the pub was where he had many friends and is also where he met Bev, who would later become his wife and who I will talk about in a moment.

By the late 90’s Dylan’s birding obsession reached a new high as he set a Kent Year List record, and in 1999 he saw a first for Britain – A Booted Eagle at St Margaret’s Bay. This caused quite a stir in the birding community, but it was finally accepted last year!

As the 2000’s began, and the world shifted into a new millennium, life changed for Dylan and our whole family. Dylan and Julie divorced, and both met new partners.


Bev was the landlady of the Chequer Inn, Ash, and what started as friendship, and no doubt Bev telling Dylan when he had drunk too much, developed into love, marriage and a bungalow in Vine Close, Ramsgate.

Dylan and Bev spent many years happily married in that little bungalow, and they made so many new friends in Vine Close and beyond. As the years went by and us children grew up, we went on to have our own children and Dylan took on a new role as Grandad, or Grandad Eagle as my children called him.



Dylan took his role as Grandad very seriously, especially if it involved turning up unannounced, winding up small children, leaving them sweets and chocolate, and then departing before the consequences of his actions took effect! I know that Emily and Harry, Debbie’s children, spent a great deal of time with Dylan, out in nature, of course, and this was something he absolutely loved.

All five of his grandchildren, Bryn, Emily, Harry, Evelyn and Rowan will miss their grandad terribly, I’m sure.

Dylan was also a much-loved uncle to Tim and Julie’s two boys, Luke and Josh, who no doubt experienced the same level of mischievousness from him!

 In 2010, at Simon’s 50th birthday party, after a lengthy hiatus from the angling world, Ben suggested that they go on a fishing trip Loch Awe. Ben writes:

“I had got into fishing in a big way, and I wanted dad to join me again, which is why I suggested Scotland. He said that he needed Bev’s permission, and it was duly granted – she had no idea what she had done, as this firmly reignited his angling fire and led to us spending all the spare time we had together, fishing.”

Ben and Dylan went on hundreds of fishing trips, including many further trips to Scotland with Simon and lots of different friends, as well as days at many local venues, where I know that they both made many friends. Dylan was fishing regularly right up to when he became ill, and his beloved blog, which has had over 1.5 million hits, is full of tales from various fishing escapades!

 


Dylan and Bev created a fulfilling life for themselves, and they went on plenty of holidays with their dear friends. Life was good for a long time. But in early 2024, Bev was diagnosed with breast cancer, and although treatment was initially deemed to have been successful in that same year, by early 2025, it was discovered that the cancer had spread to her bones and her spine, and she sadly lost her battle with that horrible disease in May 2025.

As you can imagine, Dylan was devastated. He never really recovered, and shortly after the loss of his dear wife, he too became unwell. At first, we all thought that the extreme fatigue, loss of appetite and low mood were symptoms of grief, but as time passed, things did not improve.

After his 70th birthday lunch, where he was very clearly unwell, we finally managed to get him in front of a doctor, and our worlds fell apart. After some blood tests in mid-January, Dylan was rushed to hospital and diagnosed with bowel and liver cancer. You can imagine how well he coped with that, especially when he found himself on what he called, “the f’ing chirpy sparrow ward!”  He was not a chirpy sparrow that day.

He managed a few days in hospital before, in true Dylan style, he eventually discharged himself and went home. 

On 4th February, World Cancer Day, with dad’s health still declining, we took him to a meeting with the consultant, and we were told that Dylan was too unwell for any treatment and that, at best, he had a couple of months to live.

In those last weeks of his life Me, Ben, Debbie, Tim and Simon formed a formidable team, alongside the amazing urgent care nurses, the GP and a few other medical professionals. We provided around the clock care, and I don’t really know how we did it. Was it hard? YES! It really was one of the hardest things we’ve ever done. Was it chaotic? Of course, at times! But it was dad’s wish to die at home in his own bed, and that’s what we enabled him to do. 

But I don’t want to end this eulogy on such a sad note, because Dylan was not a fan of what he referred to as “miserable shit!” Instead, I want you to spend some time remembering all of those things he taught you about nature, about life, about why it’s a bad idea to ride a bike home from the pub with a giant sack of potatoes on the handle bars, and most importantly, what he taught you about yourself.

We will miss you dad. X