I finally made it down to the water's edge for a dawn paddle yesterday only to be confronted by The Guardian's answer to Adonis, Michael "Phelps" White, emerging from the ocean. Scooped again! But the water was fine and the most enlivening thing in Bournemouth since Tavish Scott's speech.

Continuing the nautical theme, the Scottish LibDems trooped down to the Bournemouth pier at 9am for a photo opportunity aboard the Waverley paddle steamer, which is plying southern waters far from its Clyde base. Tavish was left high and dry, though, because there was no sign of the Waverley. It had apparently hit a rock called the Isle of Wight. Diligent research revealed that the pride of the Scottish navy had actually bumped into Worthing pier, along the coast, a claim denied by the boat's operator. The good news is that the pier was unaffected.

10.30 newsflash: the Waverley arrived at Bournemouth with all paddles blazing but it was too late. Tavish Scott was holding a press briefing and a conference debate had started - on transport.

Newsflash 2: the press conference is postponed as phones go crazy over the rumoured resignation of Scotland Office Minister David Cairns. It's Scotch on the rocks in Bournemouth and Whitehall.

Fallen leaders Quote of the day, from someone who knows about these things. Charles Kennedy, former Liberal Democrat leader, on Gordon Brown's troubles: "When you find yourself in these sort of difficulties, well, it's difficult to put Humpty back together again."

Age and beauty Have you noticed how political leaders are getting younger these days? Spotted the previous evening, locked in conversation (definitely not a clinch, it's not that kind of diary) in the street in Bournemouth were Tavish Scott and Kirsty Williams, putative leader of the Welsh LibDems.

We couldn't quite overhear what they were saying - something about having the youngest political leadership across all UK parliaments. Mr Scott is a sprightly 42-year-old and Ms Williams, well, she looks a lot younger than 37.

Hello darling Exactly what the automated voice of Nick Clegg will say to 250,000 voters this evening when the mighty LibDem machine shoots itself in the foot by cold-calling them during Coronation Street remained a mystery as we went to press. "Is your husband in?" suggested one journalist at the disastrous press launch of the plan.