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 4^th 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 50^th 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 70^th 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

 

 

 

 

Dylan's funeral

 

Hello everyone, we just wanted to let you know that Dylan’s funeral will be on Monday 30th March at 1pm, at Thanet Crematorium. Afterwards we will be at the San Clu Hotel, in Ramsgate.

Donations can be made to dad’s chosen charity, Cancer Research UK, at the service.

All are welcome. If you are planning to join us, please could you let me know, just so I have an idea of numbers? I think there will be a link to share soon for those who can’t make it but would still like to be a part of the service. If you would like the link, please email me: sarahvaughanreflexology@gmail.com

Thank you all for your kind words and messages, we are so grateful for them. It’s been really humbling to hear what a huge impact our dad had on so many people.

Sarah and Benno

Dylan

In the early hours of Saturday 7th March, Dylan, our dad, died peacefully at home surrounded by his family and so much love. 

To continue the story from his last post, he was eventually sadly diagnosed with bowel and liver cancer on 15th January and was immediately admitted to hospital. As you can imagine, he was not happy about this at all, and he managed a few days before he eventually discharged himself and went home. 

At this time, we were told that that there might be an option for treatment. 

 

On 4th February, World Cancer Day, with dad’s health still declining, we took him to a meeting with the consultant, and our worlds fell apart. The consultant told us that dad was too unwell for any treatment and that, at best, he had a couple of months to live. Being in that room was one of the most heart-breaking things I’ve ever had to do. 

We took dad home with some steroids prescribed by the consultant, which gave us some of the most precious times together as a family. We laughed a lot, we talked a lot, friends and family spent time with dad and I heard family stories that I had never heard before and that I won’t share in public for legal reasons! 

Ben stayed with dad overnight almost every night and they watched ALL the sports and a lot of fishing videos on YouTube. Despite dad’s deteriorating health, they were some good times, as good as they could be anyway. 

As time went on, dad’s condition inevitably got worse and as a family we all did our best to never leave his side. Me, Ben, Debbie and dad’s brothers, 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. 

Dad’s fascination with the natural world never left him, I walked in one afternoon to see him smiling because he’d just seen a merlin fly over his house. He was able to tell me that I had seen a marsh harrier on my way to visit him, just from my very bad description, and he was able to tell me that the croaking creature in my pond was actually a toad and not a frog, just from listening to a sound recording I made. Dad’s knowledge of the natural world was encyclopedic, it was so deep it was part of his soul, and I know that it’s something that we will all profoundly miss every single day. But it’s also something that I will be eternally grateful for.

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 dad 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 just wanted me to see it. 

This blog was so special to our dad, and us and to you I hope, that we didn’t want it to end here on such a sad note. And so, with dad’s permission, and when we have had some time to grieve and process what has just happened, Ben, myself and Evelyn, my 12-year-old daughter (Dylan’s granddaughter), will be sharing our own wildlife experiences with you all on this blog. Ben will focus mostly on his fishing exploits, dad has left him a challenge, and Evelyn and I will write about the wildlife that we are lucky to be surrounded by at home, as well as our experiences with the moth trap that we have just inherited. It won’t be the same as before, they are some highly talented boots to fill, but we will do our best to continue the work that Dylan so passionately created. 

 But for now, I will leave you with a short snippet from The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, a book that dad used to read to me at bedtime when I was little. 

‘Oh, children, children, why are you following me?’ 

‘We couldn’t sleep,’ said Lucy – and felt sure that she need say no more and that Aslan knew all they had been thinking. 

‘Please may we come with you – wherever you’re going?’ said Susan. 

‘Well -’ said Aslan, and seemed to be thinking. Then he said, ‘I should be glad of company tonight.

Yes, you may come, if you promise to stop when I tell you, and after that leave me to go on alone.’

‘Oh, thank you, thank you. And we will,’ said the two girls. 

 Forward they went again and one of the girls walked on each side of the Lion. But how slowly he walked! And his great, royal head drooped so that his nose nearly touched the grass. Presently he stumbled and gave a low moan. 

 

‘Aslan! Dear Aslan!’ said Lucy, ‘what is wrong? Can’t you tell us?’ 

 

‘Are you ill, dear Aslan?’ asked Susan. 

‘No,’ said Aslan. ‘I am sad and lonely. Lay your hands on my mane so that I can feel you are there and let us walk like that.’ 

And so the girls did what they would never have dared to do without his permission, but they had longed to do since they first saw him – buried their cold hands in the beautiful sea of fur and stroked it and, so doing, walked with him. And presently they saw that they were going up the slope of the hill on which a stone table stood. They went up at the side where the trees came furthest up, and when they got to the last tree (it was one that had some bushes about it) Aslan stopped and said, ‘Oh, children, children. Here you must stop. And whatever happens, do not let yourselves be seen. 

And both girls cried bitterly…and clung to the Lion and kissed his mane and his nose and his paws and his great, sad eyes. 

Then he turned from them and walked out onto the top of the hill. 

Night night dad, sleep tight. Love you.   

Sarah and Benno. XX

Three score & ten (an up-date)

 As the clock announced the arrival of, Thursday, 4th December I had successfully made it to my seventieth birthday. Not something I would mention under normal circumstances, yet, because this number represented the figure that my junior school teachers had said would be the best we could hope for (Remember this was in the 1960's) it is worthy of note I feel? My family felt it was justification for a celebratory meal, and so it came to pass that on the Sunday (7th Dec) lunchtime we all gathered in the San Clu for a  bite to eat and a catch up. All very enjoyable, but also a pivotal moment as everyone gathered was very concerned about my mental, and physical, well being. Now it doesn't require the IQ of Donald Trump to spot that my blogging has suffered as a direct result of my failure to address the issues I had allowed to build. I was in a very lonely, dark, place and it was only the input of my family that resulted in me seeking medical assistance. What a wake up encounter! My doctor sat me down and just let me talk. At the conclusion of this "consultation" I already felt better plus I was also able to see the error of my stupid stubbornness, in not admitting I had a problem in the first place. 

The final "Supermoon" of 2025 coincided with my birthday and I'm rather pleased with
my efforts. This being the first time that I'd used the 100 - 400 mm with the 1.4x 
extension tubes, manual focus and setting gleaned from YouTube

My family certainly pulled out all the stops to find one of these reels for my 
birthday gift. An absolute classic!

Some medication, to assist my sleep patterns, was prescribed and another meeting arranged for early in 2026, just to see how things are progressing. I'm still not right, there being niggling issues which persist, but things are certainly far more positive than before. I might manage to find the enthusiasm to offer a couple more post before the New Year but only time will tell. I have every intention of getting back to regular blog offerings in 2026 but, until then, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.

Getting back in the groove - very slowly!

 I'd be a complete fool if I said anything other than the fact that my physical (& mental) wellbeing was still a cause for concern - on a personal level. Energy levels and lack of appetite might be a hangover from the bout of Covid I suffered prior to the Kefalonia holiday? My anxiety issues are far more complex and certainly have their origins firmly linked to Bev's passing. However, the clock isn't going to stop ticking , it's up to me, coupled with the support I receive, to negotiate a route through this part of my life's journey and, hopefully, emerge the other side an older and wiser guy because of the experience.

I'll start with today's news and work my way back to Bonfire Night. Bruno and I were on the way down to the RMC just prior to 05.45 hrs, two rods fishing before 06. 50 hrs. We had bee greeted by the first frost of the autumn and two Pike succumbed to my offerings. The first just a feisty jack of six, or seven, pounds. The second, however, was a rather battered looking individual tipping the scales at 12 lbs 14 oz, thus my second double of the campaign. Because it was in such a sorry state I didn't bother with any photos choosing, instead, to get it straight back into the water once unhooked.

From Thursday 13th to Sunday 16th I'd been up in the West Midlands stay with my great friends Carrie & Craig. The weather wasn't up to much and we were battered by Storm Claudia overnight on Friday. The break, however, was just what the doctor ordered and we spent our time chatting and laughing, simply enjoying eachothers company. Without consulting the local news sources, Craig suggested that we take a drive across to Wales on Saturday, just to get out of the house for a while. Great idea, or so it seemed at the time? The drive across to the border was fairly straight forward, although there were ominous signs of heavy rainfall provided by numeros roadside puddles and standing water in the adjacent fields. It wasn't, however, until we reached the border that the full extent of the havoc caused by Storm Claudia became apparent. Craig had actually commented on how little traffic was on the roads and now it was becoming clear as to why. 

Just a big puddle when compared to some of the flooded roads we encountered
during our tour.

Taken from the passenger seat in Craig's VW estate. Absolutely mind boggling
areas of agricultural land under water

As a proto-type engineer for Jaguar Land Rover, Craig had no intention of admitting failure and so we continued to negotiate our way across towards Aberystwyth to a spectacular group of reservoirs, in the hills overlooking Gigrin Farm. I did manage to grab a few images, thanks to Craig, although the weather/light conditions were less than favourable.

Although I've been very lax with my blogging since Emily and I attended the firework display in Broadstairs, the requirement to take Bruno out for daily exercise has meant that the camera has seen quite a bit of use whilst out wandering the tracks and footpaths of Grove Ferry/Stodmarsh NNR, Worth Marshes RSPB Res. plus the Little Stour Valley.

Finally, I'd like to end this offering by sharing a couple more images I obtained on the evening of the 5th November. If I don't share them they will get forgotten in an aging file within my cyber storage facility which would be a shame?

Under no circumstance can I claim any credit for the above images. I simply
copied the camera settings used by a Youtuber, based in Australia, job's a good'un!

A Guy Fawkes Pike

 It was a little before 04.30 hrs, this morning, that Bruno and I headed off down to the RMC for our first session in over two weeks. Thankfully, a Pike had read the same script as I had which resulted in my first "double" of the campaign. No monster but, at eleven pounds fourteen ounces, most welcome all the same.

I'd been hoping that the local college would hold a firework display, yet this was negated when a phone call from my  grand-daughter, Emily, asked if I would accompany her to Broadstairs for their event? A quick lesson, via Google, ensured that I took my camera gear in the hope of getting some images to accompany this post. Not an area of the photographic sphere that I have any inspirations to master, the images I managed tonight, were certainly an improvement on anything I've managed previously.

Already had a couple of Perch sessions whilst awaiting conditions on the RMC to improve. Sadly nothing to report, thus far, but am certainly hopeful of some action once the temps start to drop.

November surprise

 Apologies for the recent lack of up-dates, I've not been in a very good place; mentally, of late. Thanks to the input and efforts of so many friends, neighbours and family, things now appear to be on the mend. Bruno and I had a wander around The Little Stour Valley, this morning, and it turned out to be a very enjoyable outing. Blue skies had replaced the early morning wind and rain ensuring that the visibility was about as good as it gets. As we made our way along the regular route, it was obvious that Stonechats were present in decent numbers particularly atop, and around, the game cover which borders many of the fields within the area.

A few Linnets, Chaffinches, Reed Buntings along with the occasional Yellowhammer were also feeding around the game cover, so there was always something to point my binos towards as we slowly made our way around the circuit. Three distant egrets (Cattle ?) were watched flying westwards towards Grove Ferry before I discovered the bird of the morning. A smart male Dartford Warbler popped up, very briefly, on a sunflower allowing me to grab a token image of this addition to my 2025 year list.

Benno and I are Perch fishing down at Sandwich Coarse Fishery in the morning. Not too sure that it will be particularly serious but, instead, a social catch up.