Living with Uncle Bos
Aged about 16, living with Uncle Bos and Aunt Patty ...
The Uncle kept horses and hunted regularly. I could have hunted too, but I knew I was a rotten rider and tried hard not to hunt. Staying with the Cruddas' in Northumberland nobody asked me if I wanted to hunt. I was just put on a horse and off we went to the meet. The two youngest Cruddas daughters were 7 and 9 and had ridden to hounds since the age of about 3. I kept close to them. Hounds were running and we galloped down a fairly steep field with a fence at the bottom. I, of course fell off. The two kids were very surprised that a big girl like me fell off over a jump!
Next there was a gymkhana and I was put on a large black mare. I entered the 'Musical Hurdles'. My horse suddenly stopped as we faced an empty hurdle and I went over her head and broke my arm!
When I got back home, arm nearly mended, but still in a splint the Uncle said "You have been hunting in the North, so come on - Out we GO!" I managed to fall at a jump, as I knew I would - and that was the end of my hunting career.
I felt despised by the hunting crowd which we saw a lot of, but it didn't depress me unduly!
After a lunch party (of hunting people) we went out to look at the horses. One was very lame and there was a lot of clever discussion as to why she was lame. They gave up, they did not know. Now where it came from I do not know, but I said, "Perhaps it is NAVICULA". There was a stunned silence, more prodding and poking and to cut a long story short, it WAS navicula!
Patagonia
We drove 20 miles to a lovely river but had to walk two miles to get to one beat - Tony 85 and me 84. I spent the day pleasantly and by six was at the top of the river, but decided I was too tired to fish and walked gently back to the place from which we would start our two miles back to the car. I passed Tony, who had a fish on and felt encouraged to have a go while I waited to start the journey back. It was a fast river, with about 1 ½ yards of gentle water near the bank so I got in and waded along the edge. The footing was on loose gravel and I simultaneously caught a trout and fell over on my back. I was carried rather swiftly down stream. Tony shouted "Keep calm" but there was no way he could get to me. After a bit, during which my mind dwelt on the fact that we were about 100 miles from the Arctic Ocean, I managed to turn over and swim to the bank - which was very steep. I was wondering what to do with my sodden self when the completely useless American ghillie and a fellow fisherman (called Martin) of about 50 arrived. Martin immediately took charge. He got off my thick Barbour. Divested me of my body waders, which he emptied of water and insisted that I put them on again, or I would suffer from hypothermia on the way back. Off with the jersey which he wrung out. I then landed my fish - which was dead and he and the ghillie escorted me across a river and walked me back to the road. There Martin insisted I took off everything and hunted out dry trousers and jerseys and a jacket. He closed up the car with the heater on and I awaited the rest of the party. I had not removed bra and pants and they felt very wet and uncomfortable on the 20 miles to our hotel. However, owing to Martin's care I was none the worse for the incident.
Tony Valder-Scott, boss of the party gave the ghillie a roasting for not being near two ancient fishers! In future any ghillie should always be near us and ready.
They next day Tony and I flew about 50 miles north to another river where they produced rubber tyres with webbing seats, right in the water. These were highly exciting as, with flippers you could paddle yourself anywhere and fish very comfortably. The ghillie there had not heard of our late escapade and sent me on my way quite cheerfully. Tony, who was a big man found it difficult to fit into the tyre and horribly difficult to get out of, so fished from the bank. There was a strong wind and I soon found myself on the opposite bank of the lake. I wondered it I should ever manage to paddle back against the wind. I did manage it and was profoundly thankful when I hit the opposite shore.
A few years later in Canada, Nicky Banks bought two slightly bigger rubber tyres and with rather a late start drove us 10 miles to a strange lake where we dumped the car and paddled into the unknown in our tyres. It was about 6.30 in the evening and dusk, but we could see for a bit, then fished in the dark. Nicky, at about 8 p.m., called out that we had better start back to the car. Of course, with my dreadful sense of direction I went in the wrong direction. Nicky rescued me and as I got exhausted paddling back he towed me back to the car. I should never have found it in the pitch dark!
We flew back to England the next day.
Tony and Me in Norway with Johan and Roland
In 1974, when I was 67 and Tony Cooke 68, we went on a delightful fishing expedition to Norway's wonderful river Laardal. My Uncle had been there years before. It was his best ever fishing trip and had stayed in my memory as a Magic Experience.
We went with two young Swedish men Johan and Roland Maxe who were everything two young men could be to two elderly customers.
The river was beautiful, fast, but sadly unproductive. On one occasion Johan made me cross the river, which, with his help, was quite exciting. There were piles of huge rocks on the bank. He leapt on to the first, leapt across on to another and pointed down stream and left me to get on with it.
With great nervousness I did one cast from the big rock and nearly fell off. I very cautiously crawled on to the next smaller rock but felt too unsafe and went one more rock down stream. From there I touched two or three fish and then I got to the end of the pool. I was not going back to the beginning again, but instead waded close to the bridge and stopped in the middle of the river.
After a few casts I had a good strong fish on. At that moment Johan, who had gone to fetch 'the Pirate' passed in the car. I yelled at him and waved but neither he nor the Pirate noticed me and they drove off down stream.
My big fish came off!
I went on across and fished the bank we had started on. By this time it was about five o'clock and all hope had gone. However, I got into another fish, again a good one. Johan appeared from nowhere and so did the Pirate. I had to play it for some time, by which time Tony joined us.
They were all quivering with excitement and shouting instructions. Johan even tried to take the rod from me, which I resisted firmly. This was Saturday afternoon and our last day (with no fish up to now(?)). To cut a long story short I landed a nice fresh 15 lb salmon and all the men hugged and kissed me and one might have thought no one had ever landed a salmon before!
The reason I started this story was for another lovely little excursion. Half way through the week Roland suggested a quick trip into the mountains by car. It was absolutely magic. 22 feet of snow lay everywhere and we stopped to admire the view.
Roland said to me "Would you like to telephone anyone?" Who, I could not think. "Anywhere in the world" he said. There were no mobile phones in those days and one thought carefully before making a 'trunk call'. "Can I ring England?" "Yes - of course!". He put in a call for me to Jill in Wiltshire. "I am in the mountains in Norway and there are 22 feet of snow all round us and it is absolutely beautiful". Jill could not quite believe what she was hearing, but we had quite a conversation, which was really the icing on the cake. (Early car telephone?)
Another little incident which pleased us - Johan went off and bought a salmon. When we stopped fishing about 7 p.m. They led us to a beautifully laid table by the fishing hut, where we sat down to a three course dinner (including the salmon) and suitable drinks. What a lovely thing to have done for us!!
Roland later caught the world's largest sea-trout - 39 ½ lbs. He sent me a photo with this great fat thing in his arms! I have lost the photo. This was on the EM in Sweden.
Wednesday 19 December 2007
Fishing on the Ponoi - 1997 - a Diary
Thursday August 7th
Left Steeple Langford in Tisbury taxi with Tony and arrived Heathrow in time for a Bloody Mary and bar meal and bed - Arlington. Small hot room and slept little.
Friday August 8th
Breakfast (after coffee in room) and bus at 9.20 to Air Port. Arlington in the hands of the builders and fairly chaotic. Now called COMFORT HOTEL!
Off in the bus to Heathrow and after a long wait into wheel chairs and to plane (Cigarettes on the way).
Good flight to Helsinki where we found a man from Salisbury (Scot) Butler, who was going to the Ponoi.
A 'little walk' and back to vodka and tonic and a good fish supper. To rooms at 8.30 for early bed as being called at 4.30 a.m. Next day. HOW HORRID.
Saturday August 9th
Murmansk. Having spent two hours and gone through Passport Control ? times. We are now just rising in the Helicopter. We will be there in 2¼ hours DV.
Stopped for petrol at the dump and got to camp at 3 p.m. - new time. Tent No 11 this year. Brilliant SUN and heater. They have only got 6½ thousand fish since June!
Met Ian with whom I exchanged a kiss!. Mariusz and others whose names escape me. Early supper (4.30) and Tony and I walked down to the pool and back along the shore. Further than I thought and mosquitos were busy so once we were on the path to the cap I hurried ahead as Tony is VERY slow.
Alas his legs turned to jelly during the last bit and I had to call for help and was practically carried back by Mariusz and guide. The doctor was called. It was only legs. Heart and blood pressure sound, so he lay on the bed while ice bags arrived and all attention given.
I had necessary and very pleasant shower. Talked to Mariusz about lines. He is putting a new line (floating) on my reel. Bed with 2 sleeping pills (After 2 bad nights).
Good Night!. Breakfast with the Belgians which was pleasant and put up single rod with a dry fly. The Salisbury 'Scot' had 2 before breakfast.
Sunday August 10th.
Went with Max to Lower Tomba, in Helicopter, starting at 9 a.m. and getting back at 6.30. Tony OK but tired early. Got 3 salmon. Tony says 4 as the fourth got to the boat and got off! They others were let off.
Very jolly drinks and dinner with the wicked U.S. Doctor and his wife, a Finn and American girl. Good meal and a cigarette with the guides after dinner. Then BED. 9½ hour day, VERY strong wind which was difficult. Mrs Doctor says our Salisbury friend only got 6 though he says 9! 'He lied' she said! 9.30 and I'm ready for bed. Off at 9 tomorrow with Mariusz.
Monday August 11th
Went to Something Falls. A dour beat I thought, with Misha who was nice. Got one fish and two Pru???. Not good.
Wind HELLISH. All up stream in gust of VERY strong wind, so had great difficulty casting. Got lots of grayling.
Back to a vodka just after 6 to hear the nice Belgian tell the story of his friend(?) who took 45 minutes to catch a 6 lb salmon which was dead on arrival! Ten minutes to bring in a grayling.
Another Belgian told me all about his sons. One was good and one was bad. He went to Catholic School in England and Oxford and is now good! The Doctor told us all about his ???sten fly which caught all his fish and he hates it. Said he would give me one, then NO, he would give one to Tony. (Then he thought his wife might give me one!) An amusing chap in spite of his being nasty to me last year!
Now says I can go on smoking as I am so old!
The Belgians are lovely. The little Finn kills everything, birds, fish deer, bears and has a German Pointer which assists in the carnage.
I have left Tony in the dining tent with the Vodka while he tells them how to catch fish! He seems fit now and lasts the day out!
I did not leave 200 cigarettes at Murmansk, but cannot find here! Mariusz to the rescue I hope. Yes, in the dining tent.
Tuesday August 12th
Our first day was so hot that I did not use the sleeping bag at all - just my sheet. LAST NIGHT I froze in the sleeping bag and huddled in it all night. Ice in my tooth mug! But the sun is shining. Everything piled on so hope it does not get too hot today. The Doctor and his wife do not believe anything the Scotsman says!!
Went off with Robert A.lovely enthusiastic and polite young American. We went up stream about five miles. Tony had lots of fun and fish. I say three, he says 7. I caught NOTHING! Depressing - lost confidence! Had lunch in the tent (good) and afterwards I caught two quite small and later another, on borrowed time (Tony had stopped fishing). I got my fourth and largest fish and we went back to a Vodka and chat with a Belgian (beginner) and to Ian. Then a lovely shower and then dinner. As we left the dinner tent someone said to Tony, I hear you had a fish! He had four but he counted ones be caught and lost!
Wednesday August 13th
Poor 'one weekers' they only have two more days. Tho' today was HELL! UPSTREAM wind all day and RAIN. Almost non stop. Very cold but a fire in the tent for lunch and nearly got warm. Steep approach which Tony did NOT like! Guides pulled us up!
Thursday August 14th
Got five fish for the book and a sixth to the boat (16 lbs?) Which dropped off. Tony did not do well.
Had an early Vodka and a shower and stove in my tent made it RED hot and dried everything that was not in the 'Drying Tent' including my washing. NEED more WATER. Cooking not so bad this year and no water is BAD.
Teased the Vicomte about the Belgians singing in the dining tent. Then went back to talk to Tony about tomorrow and was sent back as I had a cigarette!
We are not going with Ian tomorrow, damn it as Tony thinks Upper Tomba too much. Mariusz very kind and says he will fetch us half way through the day if we like. BLAST it!
Interesting dinner with the Doctor holding forth about the Broux etc.. A great TALKER but fun. Poured all day. Drying tent full!
Friday August 15th
MILES up river (taken short!). Got only one fish in the morning, then suddenly four after lunch. Missed two 'niggles' COLD but some sun and no rain. Had Boris who is nice. They all are!
After dinner. Great goodbyes. Hailed as an 'average raiser' - Me and the Scotsman!
Needed more water in my tent again. So was a champion water user!
Great goodbyes to all the Belgians. Really quite the nicest bunch of people we've met. The Marquis is gorgeous only exceeded in niceness by the Vicomte. The little Finn who kills everything is a gynaecologist! Two hugs from Sandra - very nice too. The Scots man wants us to teach him bridge. Lives in Broadchalk! So will meet again.
Tomorrow an influx of 16 people so the boat will be busy (only 6 ghillies.)
We have missed Ian but hope to have him next week. There are seals right up the river nearly as high as the camp - which is BAD news for next week. I have added up and have 26 fish this week. Not bad really - average 15. I wonder why I catch them!!
Today I had a chair in the boat. It made an enormous difference - am not tired and had no back ache.
So the first week was GOOD. Amazing and we are very lucky. I have just re-lit my stove (9.30 p.m.) And the tent is warm in spite of a wicked wind. Lets hope next week is as good.
Saturday August 16th
I think I have lost a day somewhere. Saturday - the day everyone goes and 16 new people arrive, Robert was to take us out for two hours - wind was too strong and water dirty after rain, so I did three pictures - 2 of the camp and whiled away the day. Dinner at 4.30! I went down to river to watch the newcomers fish - 8 in a row! The first got two fish and others nothing.
Sunday August 17th
Today in Helicopter to top beat again. Fished for eight hours and got one fish! (And some grayling). Nothing showed, water dirty and sun bright. 'Jolly' dinner. South African on my right. Very pleasant. Drunken Doctor got his 300th salmon!
Monday August 18th
Wonderful day on Pornach with Don. Green highlander. The only fly allowed by him! Tried a bomber - no good. I lost two good fish, one about 5 lbs took me twice across the river and then dropped off at the boat. Finished with a 10lb fish. I got four, lost at least six. Tony got six. I am glad he was 'top rod'. Old Lancashire Peter got 18!! And lost 4. He is only allowed to hear about the four he lost.
Amusing dinner with a nice crowd. Shower in Co-Ed and bed. Exhausted 9 ½ hours fishing!
Tuesday August 19th
Had the dreaded Lower Tomba beat with Alex. We cast unceasingly and had not an over by lunch time. I had to be escorted across the stones to a rock slightly bigger than the rest to spend a penny etc. and then cry 'help' to be escorted back to the boat. No cover anywhere except up a cliff side. Modesty has to suffer! We bashed large slices of river to no avail until 5.30 when I got a fish and another quarter of an hour later. Seals had occupied the beat. I believe Mariusz went up and shot them (illegally) but the two Tomba beats have not recovered. The other beats, especially Clough, have benefited. Clough got 21 fish. That's more like it! Dinner with 2 Englishmen and South African Professor of Philosophy - Interesting.
Did not have a chance to ask Fred if he ever wrote an article on me. But will before the week is up.
Must have cast too many times today and in spite of a chair in the boat, am pretty tired. Tony bulldozes the conversation, but luckily the Englishmen and South African were chatty! Bed early as I had to light my fire to dry my washing.
Hands very sore - all fingers in holes!
Two Frenchmen from last year are here. English not good but I hear yammer yammer yammer in the next tent till very late.
We have three good beats to come - which is nice.
Wednesday 20th
Very disappointing 4th day. Hooked and lost six fish and landed one. WORST DAY YET!! Tony got two.
I cast till I was totally spent (in spite of the chair). After lunch Mariusz concentrated on the right bank and Tony. My left rod cast into the ocean. Could have caught a fish but didn't interest anything at all.
Bloody little Lancashire man so chuffed with his 11 fish (not that I blame him) that he didn't even ask how we did. Two other Brits got 11 fish so they were there damn them. (The fish)
Had a lovely hot shower and went in to dinner. SALMON! At last, sat with the South African Professor who lives in Hindhead and two Frenchmen and little Liverpudlian. Bed 10.10! Tired! Nothing so tiring as NOT catching fish all day.
Thursday August 21st
One day to go and 'Clough' a pool that for two days did magnificently. I think because all the fish were chased out of the lower pools by the seals. Our Guide was Max, a nice lad and a great caster. Had two fish before lunch. Tony 4. Only lost or failed to catch one fish while I was trying on my 'hood' as it had started to rain. Rain soon stopped and it was a lovely day. Had to be escorted to the undergrowth by Max and collected again, So did Tony. Went up in the Helicopter and collected at 6.
Must thank Pilot for his safe journeys. One is always hurried away to a safe distance, so do not say Thank you. The buggies work splendidly. Tony and I always get a lift. Mere 75 year olds have to walk. (Up and down from the Heli-pad.) So far the others seem to have the average 8 or 9 fish. Can you believe that that is an average?
Last night I met one nice friend (South African) Dick's brother, so sent love and kisses.
Talked to Fred before dinner. Staggered to learn that in the opinion of Mariusz and the guides, Tony and I are the best consistent casters in the camp (18 people) but we haven't been catching so many fish! 26 the first week, 15 the second.
Friday August 22nd
With Robert, young and enthusiastic but not too much so. Met several fish and caught 4. Total for two weeks 41 fish, under difficulties. Address exchanged with Ian, Fred and Peter. Photo taken several times! One by request with a cigarette in the mouth.
CLOUGH beat which had been so GOOD was not much today. Fish here and there but Tony's day was made by catching a 15 lb fresh fish. Best so far.
Paid our debts, I found I had got my fishing line FREE. (£25 or more). All very jolly but we get up at 5 tomorrow and have an 18 hour journey home.
Have packed most things. I think all will go in! My fishing bag has to be closed with white and black elastic - NOT elegant.
Sat next to the U.S. Doctor who was very nice. All fingers of both hands are RAW! After 108 hours fishing!
108 hours / 41 salmon = 1 salmon in every 2.6 hours
Be without a fish for, say seven hours and the rest of the time you got lots.
Saturday August 23rd Journey Home
Up 5 a.m. Finish packing and pad locking and kit bags out. Breakfast 6 a.m. and loo. (Took no medicines as I had not done for a week) and prayed my inside would behave. By wonderful luck it shut down completely and functioned normally next day at home . Perfection. But worrying .
REMEMBER if I go next year that the 18 hours getting home is very tiring. Can stand it, but the next 4 days of washing, tidying etc. and answering difficult letters is very, very tiring and help should be available next time - who or how I don't know, but SOMETHING.
Things are lying on the floor in heaps, for disposal (Monday) (Arrived Saturday night) and I feel too tired to cope with more than oddments which I move every time I go up or downstairs!
NEXT TIME MUST arrange to have assistance.
Fred told me (and said 'do not tell the others') that I and Tony were, in the opinion of the Guides and Mariusz, the 'BEST Consistent Casters in the camp!' Tony's and my comment ... The rest must be pretty awful!
Met Dick (our last year's South African friend's brother gave me his card). Fred says his 'article' will be coming out about now and will send it (Fred, the scientist). Ian is coming to see us later in the summer. The photographers full length film will be shown in about a year. We shall be told. Tony is fixing us up for next year!
Journey Home in 7 'transports':
Buggy to Heli-pad
Helicopter (Russian) to Murmansk
Finnair to Helsinki
Wheel Chair to gate 33
Finnair to Heathrow
Wheel Chair to luggage hall
Car to Wiltshire.
We are fixed up for earlier weeks. The 'ideal' week is taken which put us out a bit. Must have two weeks before or after . 'Before' is VERY cold, so it means the week after. Tony means the week after. Tony will be nearly 87. Wonder if he will make it or if I shall.
Left Steeple Langford in Tisbury taxi with Tony and arrived Heathrow in time for a Bloody Mary and bar meal and bed - Arlington. Small hot room and slept little.
Friday August 8th
Breakfast (after coffee in room) and bus at 9.20 to Air Port. Arlington in the hands of the builders and fairly chaotic. Now called COMFORT HOTEL!
Off in the bus to Heathrow and after a long wait into wheel chairs and to plane (Cigarettes on the way).
Good flight to Helsinki where we found a man from Salisbury (Scot) Butler, who was going to the Ponoi.
A 'little walk' and back to vodka and tonic and a good fish supper. To rooms at 8.30 for early bed as being called at 4.30 a.m. Next day. HOW HORRID.
Saturday August 9th
Murmansk. Having spent two hours and gone through Passport Control ? times. We are now just rising in the Helicopter. We will be there in 2¼ hours DV.
Stopped for petrol at the dump and got to camp at 3 p.m. - new time. Tent No 11 this year. Brilliant SUN and heater. They have only got 6½ thousand fish since June!
Met Ian with whom I exchanged a kiss!. Mariusz and others whose names escape me. Early supper (4.30) and Tony and I walked down to the pool and back along the shore. Further than I thought and mosquitos were busy so once we were on the path to the cap I hurried ahead as Tony is VERY slow.
Alas his legs turned to jelly during the last bit and I had to call for help and was practically carried back by Mariusz and guide. The doctor was called. It was only legs. Heart and blood pressure sound, so he lay on the bed while ice bags arrived and all attention given.
I had necessary and very pleasant shower. Talked to Mariusz about lines. He is putting a new line (floating) on my reel. Bed with 2 sleeping pills (After 2 bad nights).
Good Night!. Breakfast with the Belgians which was pleasant and put up single rod with a dry fly. The Salisbury 'Scot' had 2 before breakfast.
Sunday August 10th.
Went with Max to Lower Tomba, in Helicopter, starting at 9 a.m. and getting back at 6.30. Tony OK but tired early. Got 3 salmon. Tony says 4 as the fourth got to the boat and got off! They others were let off.
Very jolly drinks and dinner with the wicked U.S. Doctor and his wife, a Finn and American girl. Good meal and a cigarette with the guides after dinner. Then BED. 9½ hour day, VERY strong wind which was difficult. Mrs Doctor says our Salisbury friend only got 6 though he says 9! 'He lied' she said! 9.30 and I'm ready for bed. Off at 9 tomorrow with Mariusz.
Monday August 11th
Went to Something Falls. A dour beat I thought, with Misha who was nice. Got one fish and two Pru???. Not good.
Wind HELLISH. All up stream in gust of VERY strong wind, so had great difficulty casting. Got lots of grayling.
Back to a vodka just after 6 to hear the nice Belgian tell the story of his friend(?) who took 45 minutes to catch a 6 lb salmon which was dead on arrival! Ten minutes to bring in a grayling.
Another Belgian told me all about his sons. One was good and one was bad. He went to Catholic School in England and Oxford and is now good! The Doctor told us all about his ???sten fly which caught all his fish and he hates it. Said he would give me one, then NO, he would give one to Tony. (Then he thought his wife might give me one!) An amusing chap in spite of his being nasty to me last year!
Now says I can go on smoking as I am so old!
The Belgians are lovely. The little Finn kills everything, birds, fish deer, bears and has a German Pointer which assists in the carnage.
I have left Tony in the dining tent with the Vodka while he tells them how to catch fish! He seems fit now and lasts the day out!
I did not leave 200 cigarettes at Murmansk, but cannot find here! Mariusz to the rescue I hope. Yes, in the dining tent.
Tuesday August 12th
Our first day was so hot that I did not use the sleeping bag at all - just my sheet. LAST NIGHT I froze in the sleeping bag and huddled in it all night. Ice in my tooth mug! But the sun is shining. Everything piled on so hope it does not get too hot today. The Doctor and his wife do not believe anything the Scotsman says!!
Went off with Robert A.lovely enthusiastic and polite young American. We went up stream about five miles. Tony had lots of fun and fish. I say three, he says 7. I caught NOTHING! Depressing - lost confidence! Had lunch in the tent (good) and afterwards I caught two quite small and later another, on borrowed time (Tony had stopped fishing). I got my fourth and largest fish and we went back to a Vodka and chat with a Belgian (beginner) and to Ian. Then a lovely shower and then dinner. As we left the dinner tent someone said to Tony, I hear you had a fish! He had four but he counted ones be caught and lost!
Wednesday August 13th
Poor 'one weekers' they only have two more days. Tho' today was HELL! UPSTREAM wind all day and RAIN. Almost non stop. Very cold but a fire in the tent for lunch and nearly got warm. Steep approach which Tony did NOT like! Guides pulled us up!
Thursday August 14th
Got five fish for the book and a sixth to the boat (16 lbs?) Which dropped off. Tony did not do well.
Had an early Vodka and a shower and stove in my tent made it RED hot and dried everything that was not in the 'Drying Tent' including my washing. NEED more WATER. Cooking not so bad this year and no water is BAD.
Teased the Vicomte about the Belgians singing in the dining tent. Then went back to talk to Tony about tomorrow and was sent back as I had a cigarette!
We are not going with Ian tomorrow, damn it as Tony thinks Upper Tomba too much. Mariusz very kind and says he will fetch us half way through the day if we like. BLAST it!
Interesting dinner with the Doctor holding forth about the Broux etc.. A great TALKER but fun. Poured all day. Drying tent full!
Friday August 15th
MILES up river (taken short!). Got only one fish in the morning, then suddenly four after lunch. Missed two 'niggles' COLD but some sun and no rain. Had Boris who is nice. They all are!
After dinner. Great goodbyes. Hailed as an 'average raiser' - Me and the Scotsman!
Needed more water in my tent again. So was a champion water user!
Great goodbyes to all the Belgians. Really quite the nicest bunch of people we've met. The Marquis is gorgeous only exceeded in niceness by the Vicomte. The little Finn who kills everything is a gynaecologist! Two hugs from Sandra - very nice too. The Scots man wants us to teach him bridge. Lives in Broadchalk! So will meet again.
Tomorrow an influx of 16 people so the boat will be busy (only 6 ghillies.)
We have missed Ian but hope to have him next week. There are seals right up the river nearly as high as the camp - which is BAD news for next week. I have added up and have 26 fish this week. Not bad really - average 15. I wonder why I catch them!!
Today I had a chair in the boat. It made an enormous difference - am not tired and had no back ache.
So the first week was GOOD. Amazing and we are very lucky. I have just re-lit my stove (9.30 p.m.) And the tent is warm in spite of a wicked wind. Lets hope next week is as good.
Saturday August 16th
I think I have lost a day somewhere. Saturday - the day everyone goes and 16 new people arrive, Robert was to take us out for two hours - wind was too strong and water dirty after rain, so I did three pictures - 2 of the camp and whiled away the day. Dinner at 4.30! I went down to river to watch the newcomers fish - 8 in a row! The first got two fish and others nothing.
Sunday August 17th
Today in Helicopter to top beat again. Fished for eight hours and got one fish! (And some grayling). Nothing showed, water dirty and sun bright. 'Jolly' dinner. South African on my right. Very pleasant. Drunken Doctor got his 300th salmon!
Monday August 18th
Wonderful day on Pornach with Don. Green highlander. The only fly allowed by him! Tried a bomber - no good. I lost two good fish, one about 5 lbs took me twice across the river and then dropped off at the boat. Finished with a 10lb fish. I got four, lost at least six. Tony got six. I am glad he was 'top rod'. Old Lancashire Peter got 18!! And lost 4. He is only allowed to hear about the four he lost.
Amusing dinner with a nice crowd. Shower in Co-Ed and bed. Exhausted 9 ½ hours fishing!
Tuesday August 19th
Had the dreaded Lower Tomba beat with Alex. We cast unceasingly and had not an over by lunch time. I had to be escorted across the stones to a rock slightly bigger than the rest to spend a penny etc. and then cry 'help' to be escorted back to the boat. No cover anywhere except up a cliff side. Modesty has to suffer! We bashed large slices of river to no avail until 5.30 when I got a fish and another quarter of an hour later. Seals had occupied the beat. I believe Mariusz went up and shot them (illegally) but the two Tomba beats have not recovered. The other beats, especially Clough, have benefited. Clough got 21 fish. That's more like it! Dinner with 2 Englishmen and South African Professor of Philosophy - Interesting.
Did not have a chance to ask Fred if he ever wrote an article on me. But will before the week is up.
Must have cast too many times today and in spite of a chair in the boat, am pretty tired. Tony bulldozes the conversation, but luckily the Englishmen and South African were chatty! Bed early as I had to light my fire to dry my washing.
Hands very sore - all fingers in holes!
Two Frenchmen from last year are here. English not good but I hear yammer yammer yammer in the next tent till very late.
We have three good beats to come - which is nice.
Wednesday 20th
Very disappointing 4th day. Hooked and lost six fish and landed one. WORST DAY YET!! Tony got two.
I cast till I was totally spent (in spite of the chair). After lunch Mariusz concentrated on the right bank and Tony. My left rod cast into the ocean. Could have caught a fish but didn't interest anything at all.
Bloody little Lancashire man so chuffed with his 11 fish (not that I blame him) that he didn't even ask how we did. Two other Brits got 11 fish so they were there damn them. (The fish)
Had a lovely hot shower and went in to dinner. SALMON! At last, sat with the South African Professor who lives in Hindhead and two Frenchmen and little Liverpudlian. Bed 10.10! Tired! Nothing so tiring as NOT catching fish all day.
Thursday August 21st
One day to go and 'Clough' a pool that for two days did magnificently. I think because all the fish were chased out of the lower pools by the seals. Our Guide was Max, a nice lad and a great caster. Had two fish before lunch. Tony 4. Only lost or failed to catch one fish while I was trying on my 'hood' as it had started to rain. Rain soon stopped and it was a lovely day. Had to be escorted to the undergrowth by Max and collected again, So did Tony. Went up in the Helicopter and collected at 6.
Must thank Pilot for his safe journeys. One is always hurried away to a safe distance, so do not say Thank you. The buggies work splendidly. Tony and I always get a lift. Mere 75 year olds have to walk. (Up and down from the Heli-pad.) So far the others seem to have the average 8 or 9 fish. Can you believe that that is an average?
Last night I met one nice friend (South African) Dick's brother, so sent love and kisses.
Talked to Fred before dinner. Staggered to learn that in the opinion of Mariusz and the guides, Tony and I are the best consistent casters in the camp (18 people) but we haven't been catching so many fish! 26 the first week, 15 the second.
Friday August 22nd
With Robert, young and enthusiastic but not too much so. Met several fish and caught 4. Total for two weeks 41 fish, under difficulties. Address exchanged with Ian, Fred and Peter. Photo taken several times! One by request with a cigarette in the mouth.
CLOUGH beat which had been so GOOD was not much today. Fish here and there but Tony's day was made by catching a 15 lb fresh fish. Best so far.
Paid our debts, I found I had got my fishing line FREE. (£25 or more). All very jolly but we get up at 5 tomorrow and have an 18 hour journey home.
Have packed most things. I think all will go in! My fishing bag has to be closed with white and black elastic - NOT elegant.
Sat next to the U.S. Doctor who was very nice. All fingers of both hands are RAW! After 108 hours fishing!
108 hours / 41 salmon = 1 salmon in every 2.6 hours
Be without a fish for, say seven hours and the rest of the time you got lots.
Saturday August 23rd Journey Home
Up 5 a.m. Finish packing and pad locking and kit bags out. Breakfast 6 a.m. and loo. (Took no medicines as I had not done for a week) and prayed my inside would behave. By wonderful luck it shut down completely and functioned normally next day at home . Perfection. But worrying .
REMEMBER if I go next year that the 18 hours getting home is very tiring. Can stand it, but the next 4 days of washing, tidying etc. and answering difficult letters is very, very tiring and help should be available next time - who or how I don't know, but SOMETHING.
Things are lying on the floor in heaps, for disposal (Monday) (Arrived Saturday night) and I feel too tired to cope with more than oddments which I move every time I go up or downstairs!
NEXT TIME MUST arrange to have assistance.
Fred told me (and said 'do not tell the others') that I and Tony were, in the opinion of the Guides and Mariusz, the 'BEST Consistent Casters in the camp!' Tony's and my comment ... The rest must be pretty awful!
Met Dick (our last year's South African friend's brother gave me his card). Fred says his 'article' will be coming out about now and will send it (Fred, the scientist). Ian is coming to see us later in the summer. The photographers full length film will be shown in about a year. We shall be told. Tony is fixing us up for next year!
Journey Home in 7 'transports':
Buggy to Heli-pad
Helicopter (Russian) to Murmansk
Finnair to Helsinki
Wheel Chair to gate 33
Finnair to Heathrow
Wheel Chair to luggage hall
Car to Wiltshire.
We are fixed up for earlier weeks. The 'ideal' week is taken which put us out a bit. Must have two weeks before or after . 'Before' is VERY cold, so it means the week after. Tony means the week after. Tony will be nearly 87. Wonder if he will make it or if I shall.
Fishing in Patagonia
Tony and I went with Tony Valdescott and his wife with a small party to Patagonia. In my childhood I had ridden a lot with a very lame groom who had worked in Patagonia. From that time on the country was one high on my list to visit. We landed in Santiago. What absolute bliss, I was in Patagonia. Our next destinations became more and more magical. We went first to Lake Velcho, huge and beautiful, surrounded by mountains. We stayed on a small island. Bruce Sanderson was our host. Daily, a small motor boat took us to various rivers and lakes with big trout in them. A Patagonian ghillie accompanied us, or we should never have found them.
As it was getting dark one night Peter Bates, who was also fishing the same little lake, got into a big trout (8 ½ lbs), so our ghillie put us ashore to walk back to our boat and stayed to help Peter. The path in day light was hazardous, but now it was dark it was horrific. There were fallen trees and logs and alternative tracks. Tony and I were well into our eighties and we certainly floundered our way and to our intense relief found the boat! We then drove back to Peurta Monte and flew to where we fished the Simpson River. It was beautiful and exciting as it had every kind of pool and rough and smooth beats. I drank Mate with the guides and walked miles and caught very few fish!
We flew on to Coyache and fished the Baker River. Again a big river which ran for many miles and was cobalt blue.
Our Patagonian farmer ghillie took us for a two hour drive to a river whose name I have forgotten. There were six men fishing with Tate and Lyles's Golden Syrup tins, with wooden handles fixed into the lidless top. They were 'spinning' with heavy lures, which when cast, peeled off the line which was wound round the tins, very effective. They left when we arrived and may have been poaching.
It was getting late, we had walked 2 miles from the car, forded a big tributary and had to do the same on our return. I started walking back down the river and met the Ghillie and Martin, in deep discussion on flies and then on past Tony who was playing a fish. OK, if he could so could I! I climbed down into the river which had about two yards of gravel below the bank and then was really fast flowing. Quite quickly I got a good trout and must have turned somehow for I was in the river, the fast flowing part of it. Tony shouted, "Don't Panic". There was no way he could get to me as I was going down stream much faster than he could walk.
This was getting serious. I had on two jerseys and a Barbour and body waders and it was 300 miles to the Arctic ocean. I managed to turn over and swim to the bank and climb up it and the ghillie and Martin arrived. The American ghillie was obviously dumbfounded and had no idea what to do with an ancient lady who was soaked to the skin. Martin took charge, but first I reeled in my fish and killed it.
"Off with your waders" was his first command. He held them up and emptied the water out. Then the Barbour, all the pockets full of water. Then off with the two jerseys which he wrung out. "Now put them all on again". I protested about the waders, I had walked from the car in shoes, but he insisted. I must put the waders on or I should die of hypothermia on the walk back. They then escorted me across the tributary and shouted to Tony to follow us to the car. With a few rests, Martin got me the two miles to the car and the American waited for Tony. There was a high fence to surmount and I needed help from Martin and the American to get over that.
"Now", said Martin, "everything off". While I stripped he searched the back of the car and found jerseys, trousers and a jacket. Windows were shut, engine and heater on and I was warm as toast all they way back and suffered no bad results.
The American had his tail twisted and was told that his job was to be with the elderly clients! Quite right.
Next day we flew back to Coyache and went fishing in a big lake. Nearly everywhere there was about 20 yards of reeds, difficult to fish over until the ghillie went back to the cars and collected two wonderful gadgets. Float Tubes. They had a harness of webbing making a seat. One sat on the tyre in the water, put flippers on your feet and paddled off backwards. A splendid way to go where ever you wanted in the lake. There were little zipped pockets at each elbow for flies and cigarettes.
I did get blown right across the lake and had a moment or two of panic that in the strong wind I should not be able to get back, but with a great effort I managed it and caught a fish on the way.
As it was getting dark one night Peter Bates, who was also fishing the same little lake, got into a big trout (8 ½ lbs), so our ghillie put us ashore to walk back to our boat and stayed to help Peter. The path in day light was hazardous, but now it was dark it was horrific. There were fallen trees and logs and alternative tracks. Tony and I were well into our eighties and we certainly floundered our way and to our intense relief found the boat! We then drove back to Peurta Monte and flew to where we fished the Simpson River. It was beautiful and exciting as it had every kind of pool and rough and smooth beats. I drank Mate with the guides and walked miles and caught very few fish!
We flew on to Coyache and fished the Baker River. Again a big river which ran for many miles and was cobalt blue.
Our Patagonian farmer ghillie took us for a two hour drive to a river whose name I have forgotten. There were six men fishing with Tate and Lyles's Golden Syrup tins, with wooden handles fixed into the lidless top. They were 'spinning' with heavy lures, which when cast, peeled off the line which was wound round the tins, very effective. They left when we arrived and may have been poaching.
It was getting late, we had walked 2 miles from the car, forded a big tributary and had to do the same on our return. I started walking back down the river and met the Ghillie and Martin, in deep discussion on flies and then on past Tony who was playing a fish. OK, if he could so could I! I climbed down into the river which had about two yards of gravel below the bank and then was really fast flowing. Quite quickly I got a good trout and must have turned somehow for I was in the river, the fast flowing part of it. Tony shouted, "Don't Panic". There was no way he could get to me as I was going down stream much faster than he could walk.
This was getting serious. I had on two jerseys and a Barbour and body waders and it was 300 miles to the Arctic ocean. I managed to turn over and swim to the bank and climb up it and the ghillie and Martin arrived. The American ghillie was obviously dumbfounded and had no idea what to do with an ancient lady who was soaked to the skin. Martin took charge, but first I reeled in my fish and killed it.
"Off with your waders" was his first command. He held them up and emptied the water out. Then the Barbour, all the pockets full of water. Then off with the two jerseys which he wrung out. "Now put them all on again". I protested about the waders, I had walked from the car in shoes, but he insisted. I must put the waders on or I should die of hypothermia on the walk back. They then escorted me across the tributary and shouted to Tony to follow us to the car. With a few rests, Martin got me the two miles to the car and the American waited for Tony. There was a high fence to surmount and I needed help from Martin and the American to get over that.
"Now", said Martin, "everything off". While I stripped he searched the back of the car and found jerseys, trousers and a jacket. Windows were shut, engine and heater on and I was warm as toast all they way back and suffered no bad results.
The American had his tail twisted and was told that his job was to be with the elderly clients! Quite right.
Next day we flew back to Coyache and went fishing in a big lake. Nearly everywhere there was about 20 yards of reeds, difficult to fish over until the ghillie went back to the cars and collected two wonderful gadgets. Float Tubes. They had a harness of webbing making a seat. One sat on the tyre in the water, put flippers on your feet and paddled off backwards. A splendid way to go where ever you wanted in the lake. There were little zipped pockets at each elbow for flies and cigarettes.
I did get blown right across the lake and had a moment or two of panic that in the strong wind I should not be able to get back, but with a great effort I managed it and caught a fish on the way.
Henry Wyndham
His Mother died, was buried in St Edmund's churchyard, Salisbury about the year 1794. The Verger knowing that she had been buried with some valuable rings, went to the vault in the night and commenced to cut off the rings. This revived the lady and she returned home. Henry was born some years after this strange occurrence.
He was the owner of one of Uncle Bos's lathes. He was the age of Uncle Bos's Father.
This story can be authenticated in the annals of St Edmund's Church which is now disused.
He was the owner of one of Uncle Bos's lathes. He was the age of Uncle Bos's Father.
This story can be authenticated in the annals of St Edmund's Church which is now disused.
Con
I first sighted Con while waiting to board a German ship for Hong Kong. Chamberlain had said " Peace in our Time" so we had both hoped for the best and booked passages on the Scharnhorst (The Armed Merchant Cruiser).
Con was very good looking (in spite of a large nose!). She had a real sparkle in her eyes at all times. She was slim, very well dressed and carried herself proudly. In all the years I knew her she was my greatest friend and I admired her always.
Her parents were well off (cotton) and she had a good start in life. She met her husband, Dan, who was a commander in the Navy, stationed in Plymouth and he was sent to Hong Kong and she was off to join him. She and I and a young 17 ½ year old were the only English on board. The young girl had been married by proxy and tho' they had never met she was traveling out to join him in Java.
She, Con and I sat at a table together for meals and also an American Woman whose 15 year old daughter had died. One other English woman I had forgotten was Barbara Lea, a Naval wife and an opera singer who had sung at La Scala, who was also joining her Naval husband in Hong Kong. The Germans gave us a wide berth except for two, a business man and 'Continuity Kate' who was going on to Japan. These few made up our party and we got to know them well. We often wondered later on if the Germans were told to join us for any information they could get. After all, two months later we were at war with Germany.
Our most exciting stop was in Manilla. Con and myself, the Dutch girl??? and the two Germans were put into taxis as soon as the ship berthed and went off on an 80 mile trip to a river in the North where we were to 'Shoot the Rapids'. At the last moment a German Military Advisor's wife decided to join us. She was in the 1st class and none of us had met her.
Our destination was a Hotel by the river, where they provided us with large straw hats. We each then got into a canoe with two Maritians???, fore and aft, and set forth. We soon realized that the Rapids we were about to meet were large waterfalls. A crew man asked me if I was a strong swimmer. Con, next to me in her canoe, said urgently, 'Say YES - or they won't take us'. So I did say yes with great trepidation as I saw the wrecked canoes at the side of the river.
The method of climbing a fall was to take a run at it for the front man to leap out and catch hold of a rock and pull, while the back man paddled hard. There was not question of going straight up, we 'found our way' between rocks and rushing water, with the back or front man jumping out to grasp a rock. It was most exciting and we got very wet!
We had eight of these to surmount and it took three hours. At the top we were stopped by a mountain with a huge waterfall joining the river. We had a much needed cigarette and a short rest and started down the river.
We did not have much time to be frightened before we were down the first rapid. They obviously knew them very well and somehow guided the canoe the safest way through the rocks and we were down in a flash and on our way to the next and the next etc. It took 20 minutes and we were back at the hotel, soaking wet and glad to be alive! There we met the Military Advisor's wife who had not come with us because she "didn't like that sort of thing". She asked us why we were so wet. We said they had been enormous rapids. "RAPIDS did you say? I thought you were shooting RABBITS".
After a strange lunch, all out of tins, we drove back to the Scharnhorst which upped its boarding gear and sailed immediately.
Quite an experience, which I think I should not have repeated.
In Hong Kong, Con joined Dan, her husband. Jack was of course, at sea and later joined the Fleet at Wei-Hei-Wei in the North. I followed in a heavily armed Oiler - so armed as they had been fair game for Pirates.
After a bit Con also came to Wei-Hei-Wei and we saw quite a lot of her and Dan. He was Commander of the Dorsetshire (Cruiser).
Then Jack was sent back to Hong Kong and I followed of course, as soon as I got there he was sent to Malaya and I was stranded, very short of money, in the Arlington Hotel and later a working girls Hostel, the Helena May which was cheaper and more handy for the gay life which I then lived. I found I had started a baby.
In due course the Fleet returned to Hong Kong and Jack returned. I saw quite a lot of Con and she promised to be Godmother to my new baby. I think she was a little jealous as she for some reason, would never have children.
When Jill arrived she was very entertained by her. On one occasion when Con was staying in our flat (Jack was at sea and so was Dan) I was asked out by some chap and she agreed, with great trepidation, to look after Jill. Luckily all went well and she got very fond of her.
By this time 1939, war had started and she and Dan went home and were stationed in Plymouth. Dan was drowned when his ship was bombed and sunk. Con had become a Wren and after his death became a Mobile Wren and could be sent anywhere in the world. It happened to be India and she really enjoyed her life there.
Then, for years we did not meet as we were both in several difficult parts of the world.
The war was over after four years, we had a lovely house in Groton, Suffolk and she came to stay. Then she filled in the last few years of her news.
After the War
Con had a fine time in India. Before the war ended she met a man, much younger than herself, who she fell for and he for her and they became 'an item'.
He was in the Wavy Navy and after a time was sent home. He wrote to her that he had joined the Royal Navy and was a Lieutenant. He was a Queen's messenger.
Then she finished being a Wren and was sent home and went to her parents. Mark (which is not his real name which I have forgotten) went to stay with the parents and they liked him. Con had discovered by now that he had a really violent temper and explained it by telling her that he had been torpedoed three times and the third time he had to swim about in a sea of burning oil and was months in hospital. Her family were concerned about this, but advised her either to marry him or stop seeing him. They went to stay with his mother, who was delightful.
Con was slightly miffed as when married to Dan he was immensely proud of her and they went to lots of parties and Naval Do's. Mark, on the other hand was busy at the office and went off each day and preferred to spend the evenings and weekends at home with her and not partying.
After a few months he was sent to Jersey as Flag Lieutenant to the Admiral in charge of the Naval personnel there. He went off daily to Admiralty House.
Meanwhile (Mark had been divorced and had two sons) Con agreed with Mark that they should take one of his sons.
She bought a lovely Manor House (her parents had died and left her lots of money). She made a lovely nursery for the boy and bought an Alsatian puppy and went to the Air Port to meet their new son. Mark had to be at work at that time. She was very good with children but was completely stumped by this eight year old boy who didn't speak to her at all. When Mark came home she was in despair with the boy and asked him what she should do. He said "I told you he was stone deaf and didn't talk at all". He most certainly had not told her this.
A friend of Marks went to stay with them. It turned out that the friend was a deserter from Dunkirk and after a few weeks he was arrested and sent to prison.
There were many other strange incidents which worried her. His temper was uncertain, he drank too much and he had no communication with his son.
When sending one of his suits to the cleaners she found a letter addressed to him from his wife which brought up several queries in her mind. All in all she had become very suspicious and at last charged him with not telling her the truth. He was very angry, drank a great deal of whisky and ran out of the house. She found him dead drunk just by the sea.
Next day she got a solicitor who questioned Mark and the awful truth emerged. He had been in the Navy but on his return to England he had resigned. He was certainly never a Lieutenant, had never worked in Plymouth for the Navy and had never worked at the Admiralty in Jersey. He was not divorced from his wife. He had never been attacked at sea in the war and been in hospital with burns from swimming in burning oil after being bombed. In fact, practically everything he had told her was a lie. In Plymouth he went off daily in uniform but was not in the Navy - the same at the Admiralty in Jersey. I am not sure how he had spent his time and cannot remember if I ever heard that.
The solicitor said he must give himself up to the police but at any rate should leave the house at once and never return. The solicitor and Con saw him off on a plane to England the next day.
Con had a phone call from Guernsey, where the Plane had landed and Mark was seriously ill. Would she come at once. The solicitor said she should not go at any price.
She did not hear from him again for several years when he turned up, looking very smart. She made it quite clear that she did not wish to see him and he went away. A little later she was shopping in the King's Road and she saw him again. This time he looked completely down and out, rather like a poor tramp in terrible old clothes. He had obviously hired a suit to visit her earlier.
At this stage she found Mark had managed to bankrupt her. She was 45 and broke. From her flat she went to a Typing and Shorthand school. Most of the people there were 16, 17 or 18. She passed well. I remember her telling me she was going to get a job at NOT LESS than £8 a week. That was a high wage for a typist then and I thought she was very optimistic. In fact she got a job as a secretary to the head doctor of the London Hospital. Her great stumbling block was trying to spell out the completely unknown medical terms, which nearly drove her mad and she had to leave. Her next job was with Rex Harrison. He liked to dictate his letters after the evening performance. She still had quite an exciting night life so Rex Harrison did not suit her. She got another interesting job. (I forget what it was) and then inherited three fortunes and jewelry from cousins.
She then took the jewelry, piece by piece to Bond Street where she sold it for vast sums of money. Her reaction to this was to go to Aspreys and have the ring of her dreams made. It had five sizable diamonds round a large well cut diamond which was so spectacular it made her laugh.
It was so valuable that even fishing in a fast river where one could hardly stand up, she still wore the ring as the dare not leave it anywhere. 55 years ago it was worth £400,000.
Con still had men friends and quite a busy night life and looked wonderful. She was pleased but slightly embarrassed by her spectacular ring!
We went to the Tay for fishing instruction from (can't remember his name - world winner of casting). One evening, in the interval of a lecture I was talking to a man behind me. When I looked round Con had gone. We shared a room, (I expect she was paying my way) and disappeared till 2 p.m. Yes, it was a man several years younger that her, who was very nice. They had an affair for five years, when it stopped by mutual consent. She went fishing with him in the summer and I connected with my Northumberland friends and Paul Knight and Robert and fished with them in Scotland.
Our last fishing expedition was somewhat fraught. She had had to go to a specialist over stomach problems and cancer of the stomach was diagnosed. She had to have an immediate operation. She told the specialist that she had a fortnights fishing ahead (with me) and please please could she have the operation after that. The specialist agreed unwillingly. Meanwhile she heard from a medical friend of a Healer who was spectacular. He and his wife, Rex and Christa agreed to see her. While she sat in his room in her overcoat he talked to her and without any 'examination' agreed with the specialist that she had cancer and he could treat her at once. She told him she had a fortnight's fishing ahead and he regretted the delay but said he could do a healing there and then, do an absent healing while she was away and then see her again. While we were in Scotland she quite often said, with apparent great amusement "I wonder if I'm having a healing now"!
When we got back she saw him four more times. He then said she was CURED.
She went to her earlier specialist. He examined her and agreed she no longer had cancer.
Rex lent her a TOME explaining his method of healing which was akin to VOODOO, but the force was used for good instead of evil. We heard of several cures he had done. One was for his wife. She was youngish but had been in a wheel chair for years. She lived in South Africa, heard of Rex and came to England hoping for a cure. Well she was cured, got rid of the wheel chair and married Rex. She also was a healer. I saw them both when I was smitten with agonizing body pains after clearing the river Wylye of weed. He said it might be painful for a bit but would go quickly. For two days it was even worse and the disappeared altogether.
Con was very good looking (in spite of a large nose!). She had a real sparkle in her eyes at all times. She was slim, very well dressed and carried herself proudly. In all the years I knew her she was my greatest friend and I admired her always.
Her parents were well off (cotton) and she had a good start in life. She met her husband, Dan, who was a commander in the Navy, stationed in Plymouth and he was sent to Hong Kong and she was off to join him. She and I and a young 17 ½ year old were the only English on board. The young girl had been married by proxy and tho' they had never met she was traveling out to join him in Java.
She, Con and I sat at a table together for meals and also an American Woman whose 15 year old daughter had died. One other English woman I had forgotten was Barbara Lea, a Naval wife and an opera singer who had sung at La Scala, who was also joining her Naval husband in Hong Kong. The Germans gave us a wide berth except for two, a business man and 'Continuity Kate' who was going on to Japan. These few made up our party and we got to know them well. We often wondered later on if the Germans were told to join us for any information they could get. After all, two months later we were at war with Germany.
Our most exciting stop was in Manilla. Con and myself, the Dutch girl??? and the two Germans were put into taxis as soon as the ship berthed and went off on an 80 mile trip to a river in the North where we were to 'Shoot the Rapids'. At the last moment a German Military Advisor's wife decided to join us. She was in the 1st class and none of us had met her.
Our destination was a Hotel by the river, where they provided us with large straw hats. We each then got into a canoe with two Maritians???, fore and aft, and set forth. We soon realized that the Rapids we were about to meet were large waterfalls. A crew man asked me if I was a strong swimmer. Con, next to me in her canoe, said urgently, 'Say YES - or they won't take us'. So I did say yes with great trepidation as I saw the wrecked canoes at the side of the river.
The method of climbing a fall was to take a run at it for the front man to leap out and catch hold of a rock and pull, while the back man paddled hard. There was not question of going straight up, we 'found our way' between rocks and rushing water, with the back or front man jumping out to grasp a rock. It was most exciting and we got very wet!
We had eight of these to surmount and it took three hours. At the top we were stopped by a mountain with a huge waterfall joining the river. We had a much needed cigarette and a short rest and started down the river.
We did not have much time to be frightened before we were down the first rapid. They obviously knew them very well and somehow guided the canoe the safest way through the rocks and we were down in a flash and on our way to the next and the next etc. It took 20 minutes and we were back at the hotel, soaking wet and glad to be alive! There we met the Military Advisor's wife who had not come with us because she "didn't like that sort of thing". She asked us why we were so wet. We said they had been enormous rapids. "RAPIDS did you say? I thought you were shooting RABBITS".
After a strange lunch, all out of tins, we drove back to the Scharnhorst which upped its boarding gear and sailed immediately.
Quite an experience, which I think I should not have repeated.
In Hong Kong, Con joined Dan, her husband. Jack was of course, at sea and later joined the Fleet at Wei-Hei-Wei in the North. I followed in a heavily armed Oiler - so armed as they had been fair game for Pirates.
After a bit Con also came to Wei-Hei-Wei and we saw quite a lot of her and Dan. He was Commander of the Dorsetshire (Cruiser).
Then Jack was sent back to Hong Kong and I followed of course, as soon as I got there he was sent to Malaya and I was stranded, very short of money, in the Arlington Hotel and later a working girls Hostel, the Helena May which was cheaper and more handy for the gay life which I then lived. I found I had started a baby.
In due course the Fleet returned to Hong Kong and Jack returned. I saw quite a lot of Con and she promised to be Godmother to my new baby. I think she was a little jealous as she for some reason, would never have children.
When Jill arrived she was very entertained by her. On one occasion when Con was staying in our flat (Jack was at sea and so was Dan) I was asked out by some chap and she agreed, with great trepidation, to look after Jill. Luckily all went well and she got very fond of her.
By this time 1939, war had started and she and Dan went home and were stationed in Plymouth. Dan was drowned when his ship was bombed and sunk. Con had become a Wren and after his death became a Mobile Wren and could be sent anywhere in the world. It happened to be India and she really enjoyed her life there.
Then, for years we did not meet as we were both in several difficult parts of the world.
The war was over after four years, we had a lovely house in Groton, Suffolk and she came to stay. Then she filled in the last few years of her news.
After the War
Con had a fine time in India. Before the war ended she met a man, much younger than herself, who she fell for and he for her and they became 'an item'.
He was in the Wavy Navy and after a time was sent home. He wrote to her that he had joined the Royal Navy and was a Lieutenant. He was a Queen's messenger.
Then she finished being a Wren and was sent home and went to her parents. Mark (which is not his real name which I have forgotten) went to stay with the parents and they liked him. Con had discovered by now that he had a really violent temper and explained it by telling her that he had been torpedoed three times and the third time he had to swim about in a sea of burning oil and was months in hospital. Her family were concerned about this, but advised her either to marry him or stop seeing him. They went to stay with his mother, who was delightful.
Con was slightly miffed as when married to Dan he was immensely proud of her and they went to lots of parties and Naval Do's. Mark, on the other hand was busy at the office and went off each day and preferred to spend the evenings and weekends at home with her and not partying.
After a few months he was sent to Jersey as Flag Lieutenant to the Admiral in charge of the Naval personnel there. He went off daily to Admiralty House.
Meanwhile (Mark had been divorced and had two sons) Con agreed with Mark that they should take one of his sons.
She bought a lovely Manor House (her parents had died and left her lots of money). She made a lovely nursery for the boy and bought an Alsatian puppy and went to the Air Port to meet their new son. Mark had to be at work at that time. She was very good with children but was completely stumped by this eight year old boy who didn't speak to her at all. When Mark came home she was in despair with the boy and asked him what she should do. He said "I told you he was stone deaf and didn't talk at all". He most certainly had not told her this.
A friend of Marks went to stay with them. It turned out that the friend was a deserter from Dunkirk and after a few weeks he was arrested and sent to prison.
There were many other strange incidents which worried her. His temper was uncertain, he drank too much and he had no communication with his son.
When sending one of his suits to the cleaners she found a letter addressed to him from his wife which brought up several queries in her mind. All in all she had become very suspicious and at last charged him with not telling her the truth. He was very angry, drank a great deal of whisky and ran out of the house. She found him dead drunk just by the sea.
Next day she got a solicitor who questioned Mark and the awful truth emerged. He had been in the Navy but on his return to England he had resigned. He was certainly never a Lieutenant, had never worked in Plymouth for the Navy and had never worked at the Admiralty in Jersey. He was not divorced from his wife. He had never been attacked at sea in the war and been in hospital with burns from swimming in burning oil after being bombed. In fact, practically everything he had told her was a lie. In Plymouth he went off daily in uniform but was not in the Navy - the same at the Admiralty in Jersey. I am not sure how he had spent his time and cannot remember if I ever heard that.
The solicitor said he must give himself up to the police but at any rate should leave the house at once and never return. The solicitor and Con saw him off on a plane to England the next day.
Con had a phone call from Guernsey, where the Plane had landed and Mark was seriously ill. Would she come at once. The solicitor said she should not go at any price.
She did not hear from him again for several years when he turned up, looking very smart. She made it quite clear that she did not wish to see him and he went away. A little later she was shopping in the King's Road and she saw him again. This time he looked completely down and out, rather like a poor tramp in terrible old clothes. He had obviously hired a suit to visit her earlier.
At this stage she found Mark had managed to bankrupt her. She was 45 and broke. From her flat she went to a Typing and Shorthand school. Most of the people there were 16, 17 or 18. She passed well. I remember her telling me she was going to get a job at NOT LESS than £8 a week. That was a high wage for a typist then and I thought she was very optimistic. In fact she got a job as a secretary to the head doctor of the London Hospital. Her great stumbling block was trying to spell out the completely unknown medical terms, which nearly drove her mad and she had to leave. Her next job was with Rex Harrison. He liked to dictate his letters after the evening performance. She still had quite an exciting night life so Rex Harrison did not suit her. She got another interesting job. (I forget what it was) and then inherited three fortunes and jewelry from cousins.
She then took the jewelry, piece by piece to Bond Street where she sold it for vast sums of money. Her reaction to this was to go to Aspreys and have the ring of her dreams made. It had five sizable diamonds round a large well cut diamond which was so spectacular it made her laugh.
It was so valuable that even fishing in a fast river where one could hardly stand up, she still wore the ring as the dare not leave it anywhere. 55 years ago it was worth £400,000.
Con still had men friends and quite a busy night life and looked wonderful. She was pleased but slightly embarrassed by her spectacular ring!
We went to the Tay for fishing instruction from (can't remember his name - world winner of casting). One evening, in the interval of a lecture I was talking to a man behind me. When I looked round Con had gone. We shared a room, (I expect she was paying my way) and disappeared till 2 p.m. Yes, it was a man several years younger that her, who was very nice. They had an affair for five years, when it stopped by mutual consent. She went fishing with him in the summer and I connected with my Northumberland friends and Paul Knight and Robert and fished with them in Scotland.
Our last fishing expedition was somewhat fraught. She had had to go to a specialist over stomach problems and cancer of the stomach was diagnosed. She had to have an immediate operation. She told the specialist that she had a fortnights fishing ahead (with me) and please please could she have the operation after that. The specialist agreed unwillingly. Meanwhile she heard from a medical friend of a Healer who was spectacular. He and his wife, Rex and Christa agreed to see her. While she sat in his room in her overcoat he talked to her and without any 'examination' agreed with the specialist that she had cancer and he could treat her at once. She told him she had a fortnight's fishing ahead and he regretted the delay but said he could do a healing there and then, do an absent healing while she was away and then see her again. While we were in Scotland she quite often said, with apparent great amusement "I wonder if I'm having a healing now"!
When we got back she saw him four more times. He then said she was CURED.
She went to her earlier specialist. He examined her and agreed she no longer had cancer.
Rex lent her a TOME explaining his method of healing which was akin to VOODOO, but the force was used for good instead of evil. We heard of several cures he had done. One was for his wife. She was youngish but had been in a wheel chair for years. She lived in South Africa, heard of Rex and came to England hoping for a cure. Well she was cured, got rid of the wheel chair and married Rex. She also was a healer. I saw them both when I was smitten with agonizing body pains after clearing the river Wylye of weed. He said it might be painful for a bit but would go quickly. For two days it was even worse and the disappeared altogether.
Barbara Kershaw's early life written in 2003
Having got to the age of 91, and being a mass of aches and pains I cannot write at length, as I should wish. I have had a very exciting and interesting life and traveled in many unexpected places.
I was born in Vancouver in 1912. My father - in 1914 - joined the Navy, took my two brothers to England and left them with his father and mother. My mother followed with me when she had scratched up enough money. He was killed in the Dardenelles in 1915 and my Mother, a strong lady with a splendid sense of humour, spent the next seven years working day and night to pay off my Father's debts and cope with three children. Suffice it to say it was a hard grind but with an Aunt and Uncle and many good friends, she coped. 'The Minister of Pensions' was our savior and ogre. They helped with education, but as we were wayward characters they wrote letters to my Mother saying that if we did not work harder, or behave better, the pension would be cut. 'The Minister of Pensions' lurked behind letters received at the beginning of the holidays when school reports came in. We were never quite wicked enough for retribution and survived but my Mother did not. She died when I was 10 years old and we went to live with the Sister and her Husband. I did not know what a wonderful life would follow this move and how everlastingly I would respect, love and bless them.
My Aunt and Mother had lived in Mauritius till they married. Aunt Patty was prim and proper and a staunch Christian. My Uncle Bos (Boscowen) Gordon was a really wonderful man. He had a brilliant career. He was strict and rather fierce, but such fun at the same time. I first met him on our return to England when I was 2 ½ years old. He and my Aunt met us at Waterloo and he gave me a Teddy Bear. I can remember clutching him round the knees and saying: 'I like him. I like him. I like him ...'
The Aunt had lived in Mauritius with our large family of twenty-four in a rambling house near Moca. Great Grand Mother, Grand Mother and several brothers and sisters, friends and cousins. My Grandfather was a Doctor, but died early, he had lost all his money in a lethal cyclone which killed off the Island's sugar crop in which his money was invested.
Life was very basic. My Mother and two Aunts owned one pair of shoes between them and they had one Indian servant who was dear to all of them. They had no education, except what the family could teach them.
Mauritius had a splendid deep harbour and the Eastern Fleet spent three months there every year and there was also a Regiment based there. The Governor and his Lady had to entertain a great deal and found the Aunt's Patty and Esme very handy for dances and picnics. My Mother was younger but came in for lots of fun. How can you do this with one pair of shoes between three girls? Through the generosity of Sir Graham and Lady Bower and the fact that the girls were brilliant needle women and made their own clothes. Lady Bower sent to England for my Aunt's first evening dress, for a grand ball they were giving and Aunt Patty met the ADC and they fell in love. Lady Bower forbade the engagement. The ADC had only his pay, £400 a year and the Aunt had no money. The engagement was NOT POSSIBLE, Forbidden.
The Regiment, the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers was sent to India. The ADC put an advertisement in the local paper for a job as governess for his beloved. They heard of a job and Patty defied Lady Bower and left for India as soon as possible.
It is a strange fate arranges our lives. The Father of the family my Aunt worked for had to stay in Delhi during the hot weather so his wife stayed too. They asked my Aunt to take their two girls to the hills, to Simla. The Aunt was very reluctant to take this heavy responsibility but eventually agreed. One of the girls got enteric fever while in Simla and my Aunt implored the doctor to send for their Mother as the child was seriously ill. 'She will either be dead, or have recovered by the time Mrs. L. could get here' said the doctor. So the Aunt nursed the child and she recovered. When the Mother arrived in Simla later she embraced the Aunt and said ' I will give you anything in the world in my power'. The Aunt said she would like to marry her ADC. Mrs. L said 'You shall marry him here. We will give you your wedding and your wedding dress.'
So she married the ADC, Bos Gordon. He rode, hunted on borrowed horses and she made their quarters beautiful by covering wooden boxes with pretty materials. He tells a story of a gymkhana, where they had to ride to the other end of the course, write a four line poem to their lady, pick her up and ride back to the finish. She had never ridden a horse!
'Here she comes
Pitta pat Pitta pat.
The dear little girl
In the big black hat.
Uncle Bos was the nicest man in the world! I really think so.
They came home after six years in India to be engulfed in the Great War. He was in France in the trenches and recommended for the VC but he got a D.S.O. Then he learnt to fly on the old wooden and string planes and wore wings and was in the R.F.C. (Royal Flying Corps). I am not quite sure how this worked. This led him to being Chief of Staff to Lord Trenchard and he got a C.M.G for that. He was then sent to Scotland, near Loch Doon, to start and run an experimental flying boat station. My brothers and I stayed with them and had a wonderful time. I was five years old and remember the Duke of Connaught coming to inspect the Air Station. They went all over the station, closely followed by me. They crossed a plank over a waterway. I was very frightened of falling in but HAD to keep up! Once the other side they stopped to discuss something, turned round and went back over the plank. Panic, but I had to go too. Right - whatever it was OK and back they went over the plank again. I HAD to follow, but was still terrified.
On Lord Trenchard's staff was Sir Walter Lawrence, who had been Agent in Chief to the Duke of Bedford before the War. He had to tell the Duke he felt too old and weary, when peace was declared, to go back to work for him. 'Find me someone else' said the Duke.
He found Uncle Bos, which was the beginning for him and Patty, of a wonderful 24 years with the Duke.
I also remember being quite a trial to the Sergeant's Mess. I loved bully beef and they offered me some if I could quit talking for a whole five minutes. I managed it with difficulty.
The Uncle's batman was called Bachelor. His reply, when I called him was usually 'died of wounds' (Unattainable)!
The Uncle and Aunt announced that they were going for a walk. Peter was told firmly that he could not come. He was cross and stuck a large file twice into a Fusilier drum which was cherished by the Uncle. A year before a shot had gone in one side and out the other, the drummer was unhurt. When admonished for this useless act my Aunt said 'what would you do to a little boy who had done such a horrid thing?' 'I would have take him for a walk' said Peter.
Some acquaintances of my Aunt's came to tea and stayed far too long. The Uncle made up a poem:
Mr Smith and Mrs Smith
Went out to tea one Sunday
They ate so much and stayed so long
They didn't go back till Monday.
Later, they came to tea again. Peter was told, sternly that he was not to mention the rhyme. I can remember him sitting on the floor by the fire, saying 'Hm Hm Hm Hm, Hm Hm .... Thats about you' to the Smiths. My aunt thinking too quickly decided it was better to tell them the rhyme! I do not think they met again! Another rhyme my Uncle produced:
Auntie Patty was so good
She always acted as she should
She always sat up straight at table
And ate as much as she was able.
My Mother battled to earn by sewing enough to keep herself and three children. Dim years which I prefer to forget. She was brave and cheerful and much admired by many. She knew she was dying and wanted my Uncle to be Guardian to us, also the Bishop of Bristol, who was a good friend. He wrote 'I do not think I have ever met a more wonderful woman or a better Christian.'
Chapter 2
So here we were, living with the Gordons. They had a house in South Kensington and another in a village very near Woburn Abbey, in fact surrounded on three sides by Woburn Park. The Old Rectory, a lovely house, which had been lived in by the Duke's Master of the Horse' and had six stables, tack rooms and two garages and a spacious garden which included a tennis court.
What more could one want? Perfection, of course a horse or two would be nice. There were soon two horses looking out of the stalls doors!
My Uncle's main preoccupation was with the Duke's London estate, but there was also Woburn, Scotland, Devon, Somerset and Norfolk which all had local agents under him. He took me with him to all these places, but mostly to Devon: the Ducal estate which had 22 miles of the Tamar in it - Salmon fishing. Once or twice we shot the rapids in style. There was a large Canadian canoe for my Uncle, spare clothes, a picnic and three Rob Roy (very tippable) canoes. I usually, probably aged 12, tipped mine up as soon as I got into it and started the journey soaked to the skin. There were two rapids which were thrilling and several places where two groins nearly met in the middle of the river, where, if your canoe was not well aligned, the canoe could break in half.
My Uncle had the shooting there later on. I attempted to train a lovely black Labrador, with great lack of success. He knew exactly what to do, but had ideas of his own and was unreliable.
The birds came out of the hills beyond the river at a tremendous pace - and very high, so it was good shooting!
I remember a day when my brothers were there and three other boys, all about 16 or 17 years old. We were fooling about the small lake near the house when another lad, who had been fishing, joined us. The boys dared him to get in and swim, in his waders. He stayed in for twenty minutes, which stayed in my mind in later years when I got into trouble in rivers! When he got out, his waders were full of water, so were his clothes and he was tired!
Years later I was in Devon with my husband and two year old Adria and I got a day's fishing on the Tamer. I gradually waded, with difficulty, into the middle of a fast bit of river and we heard a plop. Adria had fallen down the steep slope and was being carried down fast. The bed of the river was all biggish stones, difficult to maneuver in waders and I could not catch her up. Luckily the Head Gardener's daughter came down to join us. She jumped in and rescued her! Looking back on this I cannot understand why Jack did not rescue her. There must have been a reason, but I forget! Before Adria was 10 she had two more tries to drown herself. One in Suffolk and once in Malta, but as I write this she is sixty one and going strong.
We stayed with the Agent in the Scottish estate (Cainsmore). He had a beautiful daughter, who had a tame fox cub which thought she was its Mother. I was enchanted.
The Uncle was looking for a Dower House for the Duchess - the Flying Duchess - and we went all over England looking at lovely houses, which for a variety of reasons, the Duchess turned down. Then one day we looked at Whispers, near Liphook. It was lovely and he told the Duchess about it.
'Go and buy it' said the Duchess - 'You know by now what I want.' So he did and had added, at the Duchess' request a Power house, an Aerodrome and Hanger, before she ever even saw it. She approved luckily but sadly, she never lived in it as she was lost flying two years later.
The Flying Duchess was a wonderful person. She was profoundly deaf, which was a serious disadvantage to her. She was the daughter of a parson and she was a trained nurse. The Duke built her a Cottage Hospital where she reigned, in charge or the X-ray Unit and she was called 'Matron'. She also had a lovely country house turned into a Nursing home where both the Uncle and Aunt had been nursed and where my Mother died. I remember the three mile journey there so many times, in a pony and trap.
My Uncle went to see the Duke, in the morning two or three times a week. He left me with the car in the garages where I became friendly with the chauffeurs and the black smith and visited all the buildings near the garages. The Sculpture Gallery was sometimes open. The first thing I saw was the 'Three Graces'. I do not think I saw much beyond the Graces which were enchanting and took my complete attention, though there were many more sculptures there.
'It was told' that some Americans came to the Abbey and the Duchess took them round the huge house and then to the Sculpture Gallery. They duly admired the Three Graces and one of them asked the Duchess: 'And which one is your Grace?'
My brothers and I asked the Uncle how we would address the Duke if we met him in Woburn Park. After a bit of thought he said:
'The boys should call him 'Sir' and you should call him 'Your Grace'!
Back to the Duchess. At an advanced age she went up in a private airplane. To her delight she found she would HEAR voices over the Intercom, so she bought a Moth.
I have a picture of a later plane, the Spider, in which she flew with her pilot, to India and back in seven days. A record in 1920. It is signed by her and her pilot. She flew solo a great deal. One rough day which I remember well, there were several severe hail storms. She had flown to Norfolk to see her Nature Reserve and never came back. It was a mystery until weeks later, remains of her plane were washed up on the shore in Norfolk.
My brothers and I were allowed in Woburn Park and though I cannot remember my brothers taking advantage of this I certainly did. Close to our house were the Zebras, looked after by an oldish man, who always contrived to get between the zebras and me as they were untrustworthy and would kick and bite. I think it was Lord Rothschild who drove a Coach and Four Zebras along the Mall in London.
Wandering around the park I found the European Bison's enclosure. I was about 12 years old and had no idea they were the most treacherous and dangerous of animals. The bull advanced to the high wire fence and I scratched his huge head which he seemed to enjoy. I often visited them and the bull always sauntered up to have his head scratched. One day a keeper came along and nearly threw a fit! I was told I was never to go there again.
There was a big herd of Pere David deer who were loose in the park. Their bones creaked loudly as they moved. I watched two cranes doing their mating dance. Beautiful and majestic. My dog was chased by a Rhea, who had 16 babies, identical miniatures trailing behind. My Uncle lobbed his bicycle at the Reah and she swerved away and the babies followed. Peter found a Rhea's egg. You could make scrambled egg for 6 people with one egg. We made a hole and tried to blow it but nothing happened. We made another hole the other end, nothing happened. We sawed it in half and it was very bad and smelt horrible!
About this time we found rats in the rubbish heap behind the stables. Hugh, Peter and I stood round the enormous heap, while a cousin threw in a banger. The air gun was supposed to shoot escaping rats. Peter silently and unseen got behind me and pinched my ankle. I screamed desperately as I thought a rat had got me.
A keeper told us that a few years before, the last giraffe had died, they made a funeral pyre for it. In the great heat its long neck and head waved around!
Chapter 3
Of course, interrupting this magic life, I had to go to school. While the Aunt and Uncle were in London I went to a school in Queen's Gate. I remember a friend called Prudence Maxwell-Light. She was the grand daughter of the man who wrote: 'Abide With Me'. I thought this was wonderful and still do! In fact my youngest daughter is called Prudence!
Then , for some reason, possibly because it was nearer to the house in South Kensington I was moved to Roland House's School and even at nine years old could walk there by myself. I enjoyed my time there. The Head mistress' niece, the same age as me, another Barbara, and I were the youngest borders. When the time came that my Mother was so ill it must have been convenient to have me off their hands. We were rather spoilt by the Headmistress' Mother. I remember that when we were naughty we were sent to bed without any supper, old Ma Roby brought us a tray of goodies! A great tie between Roby and me was that both our fathers had been killed at Gallipoli.
The school joined with other London schools to act a Christmas play at the Aldwich Theatre. We were in the Christmas Day scene. Roby and I were elves, carrying in the Christmas presents to two girls fast asleep in bed. But they woke up and jumped up and down on the bed and broke it. The older girl, Mary Martin, with great presence of mind got the elves to help her mend it.
We also took part in St Martins-in-the-Fields rehearsals and show when Martin Shaw launched his song for the Girl Guides. 'Glad Heart's Adventuring'. I wonder if it is ever sung today.
Then the Uncle and Aunt decided to live entirely at the Old Rectory and I was sent to yet another school, which was not a success - the Vyne near Basingstoke in Hampshire was a beautiful house. We had lovely school uniforms of Royal Blue with silk blue and white striped blouses and velvet dresses for Sunday. These were the only good things about the school so far as I was concerned and I was removed and sent to yet another school.
The latest was a Clergy Daughters School, St Mary's Hall in Brighton. This was through the influence of the Bishop of Bristol and I was one of about 50 non clergy daughters. This was good and bad. Hockey and Netball and French and Latin and friends and enemies. At 17 I had had enough and decided I should leave and start real life. My Aunt had a serious talk with me putting to me what I should gain if I stayed another year and how I should miss out if I did not take School Certificate and Matriculation. She said I should go away and think seriously about it and then we would decide.
I thought seriously that I should leave, but she told me I was wrong and I was going to stay! This, I think, did not do much good but I did work and passed exams and behaved quite well and that was that.!
Then I decided I was going in for Photography. The Bishop's wife said it was Not Suitable for a young girl and there was no question about it. NO. The mind boggles! My Aunt decided that it was best for me to stay at home and become civilized.
Thus started seven years of a wonderful time, which I shall tell in another chapter.
Chapter 4
The holidays, during my last years at school had been superb. Dances nearly every night. Though I was not allowed to go to the Hunt Ball, as I was not 'out'. Masses of parties, theatres, riding.
My Aunt made it quite clear to us that the boys and I had no money and this lovely life was because of the Uncle's position. We were not to get 'IDEAS'. My dress (and everything else) allowance, was £30 a year. She would not allow the Uncle to give me more. This made life somewhat complicated, as I had the use of a Baby Austin. In my diaries I was continually running out of petrol. This is because petrol was so expensive (1/6 or 8p per gallon) I could only put one gallon in the car at a time. I spent a week in London with friends of my Mother's and went to the theatre every night and only had one home-made dress. In those days in the stalls or Dress Circle everyone wore Evening Dress. However, the Aunt had rubbed it in well, that we were penniless and we had to get used to it. Peter got grand ideas and lovely though he seemed to me, was a born liar and managed to live the high life, a budding Confidence Trickster by the age of eighteen. I had begun to realize this and, for me, he lost his glamour. I believed none of his stories, even if they were true. He had a girl friend in Edinburgh. (Did he? I didn't believe him). However, he took me to meet her. She was very pretty and had a strong Edinburgh accent. He later brought her to the Old Rectory to stay and told the Uncle he was going to marry her. The Uncle said he was not old enough and was earning a living in the RAF as a Flying Officer. Before this Peter had been at Wellington College, had not worked, but had had a good time and knew all the right people. He ran up bills, especially as he played Raquets, which was an expensive game. The Uncle had to bail him out several times. He took him away from Wellington and sent him to a Crammer. There he met a youth, Teddy W. son of a well born Army man, who was up to no good, again Peter got into trouble, both at the Crammer and when be brought Teddy home to stay. They both got very drink on the Uncle's whiskey and the youth pursued me relentlessly. He was, in the end, banned from coming to stay. However, Peter got into the RAF and nobody ever contested the fact that he was a brilliant flyer.
On Peter's 21st birthday he married Gay (the girl from Edinburgh). He was twenty-one and nobody was going to tell him who he could or could not marry. They came South for the Honeymoon and one day I answered the telephone: 'Gay and I have married, we are quite near and are coming to stay. Get the double room ready.'
I had to break the news to the Uncle and Aunt who were not pleased!
The visit was quite pleasant. Now they were married my Uncle had to accept it. I did not know until later that the Uncle had written to Gay's Father telling him that he had forbidden the marriage as Peter was too young and only his RAF pay and NO expectations financially and could not expect any further pay outs from him. I do not know if he got an answer to this letter.
They expected a baby and I was quite excited by this and had a hope that having a child would tame Peter. It did not, tho' he worshipped his daughter (Pam) when she arrived, and after a couple of years he moved on to another girl, also from Edinburgh. He was divorced by the time his twins arrived, so he married Miss Edinburgh the Second. In quick time twin girls arrived and I did meet his new wife and babies - just once. Peter was then stationed somewhere in the South and one weekend he 'borrowed' a plane and went North to see his wife. The RAF was not pleased and gave him the sack. Not much later the War started and he was taken back into the RAF as a sergeant Instructor. He left his wife and twins, divorced, and married a girl born in Essex by whom he had a daughter and son. They were in India when the war stopped and he continued flying for British India until he was moved to Dubai to Gulf Air. He had had enough of his third wife so he sent her home. This time there was no divorce. Nevertheless he 'Married' an Austrian girl and produced two more daughters.
For twenty years I did not see, or connect with Peter. After the second divorce we lost touch. I was to meet him later, in Dubai, of all places!
Meanwhile, Hugh, who was a year older than Peter, had been at the Imperial Service College, where he was lost and unhappy. At 13 he went to Pangborne where he did reasonably well, and from there went into The Merchant Service, Blue Funnel Line and had a reasonably happy two years. Then his ship had to dock for six weeks a for a refit in New York harbour. All the officers took leave and he, as a midshipman was left in charge. Life in the dockyard shocked him considerably. He had not met the seamy side of life before and I gather the goings-on were beyond belief. On his return home he left the Merchant Navy.
So what to do? The Uncle had a friend who had a brother who had gone to Kenya where he started a Sisal factory. The brother agreed to take Hugh as an apprentice. I remember seeing him off in London. He had 4 suitcases. Three were musical instruments and in the smallest one were his clothes! The Sisal factory was not a success and Hugh took off into the blue to seek his fortune. In fact he went Gold mining and had really rather fun and found gold! But that is another story.
Back in our school holidays the two boys and I spent most of our time playing music. I played the piano and had a set of drums. Hugh played the violin and Peter the ukulele and swanee whistle. We went round the villages playing for dancing. There was, of course, no radio and television, so the unsophisticated villages were quite glad of our rather indifferent band. Later, when the boys left home I joined up with a girl friend in Bedford who played the piano brilliantly. I played the drums. We had great fun and were quite in demand!
The Uncle was a great sportsman. Real Huntin', Shootin' and Fishin' gent. So the stables were full of horses. He bought a horse for the boys to keep them out of mischief, but they both preferred motor bikes.
True to form, Peter had a splendid BSA motorbike and Hugh had a terrible old Rudge Multi. The latter was nearly always in pieces and Hugh, covered in oil, worked on it for hours. He removed every possible part from the bike, so that it would go faster. No mud guards, no bell???, even no brakes. The only way to stop was to put his feet down to slow it, or fall into the hedge. Hugh also put in hours in the workshop and became a brilliant carpenter, as was the Uncle. As a small child, staying with the Aunt and Uncle I spent as much time as possible in the workshop, where I watched the Uncle. I asked him what he was making. 'A rabbit hutch' he told me.
'But we haven't got a rabbit.'
'We can get one when it is finished.'
Christmas came and it was a dolls house with 4 rooms and furniture and some dolls to live in it! What a magic Uncle!
They gave a Fancy Dress party, in London. There were seventy children. My Mother made a superb dress for me exactly copying a French doll the Uncle had sent me from France in the war from Alsace. I had a royal blue skirt with coloured braid round the hem, a red silk blouse and a little blue shawl and carried a little slate with "Vive l'Alsace" on it. On my head I wore the black head dress of Alsace, with a British rosette on it. I had blue and white striped socks (very difficult to find) and black dancing shoes. I carried the doll, dressed exactly the same. Uncle Bos, at the end, led us round the drawing room singing, 'a hunting we will go' and blowing his hunting horn!
The Uncle expected the boys to be able to ride but of course they had never had the chance before and did not come up to his expectations. He was disappointed!
Chapter N
My fishing partner, Tony Cooke, had met Peter Banks fishing for salmon in Canada. Peter asked Tony to come back next year and he would fix up some fishing trips for him. This Tony did and they had five trips, a wholly satisfactory and wonderful six weeks. The following year I and Tony went to Patagonia and Peter was invited to join us. Another wonderful fortnights fishing. Peter then invited me to join Tony the next year on another five fishing expeditions in Canada.
Just before we left for Canada, I had a phone call from an acquaintance called Sue, who lived in the same village as me. She had just been staying in Canada with Peter and his wife and she knew they were expecting us very soon but were worried about bedrooms. In fact they wanted to know if Tony and I shared a room or not! I put her right. We did not share a room.
This is getting complicated. Peter had a charming wife, two sons and a daughter. The younger son (Nicky, young enough to be my grandson) and I got on very well and fished together on several occasions during our six weeks in Canada.
Now, a good ten years later, Nicky came to England and bless him, came and took me out to lunch. We could not remember Sue's name, but talked about her visit to his father.
He rang me the day before his departure and said 'By the way, you remember we could not remember that woman's name - well it is Sue -. I have just been to see an old friend, a solicitor, and met his wife, who was the Sue we knew, who had divorced her husband and married his friend. Extraordinary combination of events.
I meet Tony at Bridge. Tony met Peter Bates in Canada, fishing for sea trout in Queen Charlottes' Island. Peter knows a young woman in Rockbourne called Sue, where I was living and she goes to Canada and stays with Peter and Mary and comes back and rings me to tell me their latest news. Nicky, Peter's youngest son fishes with us in Canada and six years later comes to visit me. We cannot remember Sue's name. But he rings me before he leaves for Canada to say he had been staying with a very old friend of his, who had lately married Sue who had divorced her husband. All these people connected, by chance, in Canada an parts of England"
I was born in Vancouver in 1912. My father - in 1914 - joined the Navy, took my two brothers to England and left them with his father and mother. My mother followed with me when she had scratched up enough money. He was killed in the Dardenelles in 1915 and my Mother, a strong lady with a splendid sense of humour, spent the next seven years working day and night to pay off my Father's debts and cope with three children. Suffice it to say it was a hard grind but with an Aunt and Uncle and many good friends, she coped. 'The Minister of Pensions' was our savior and ogre. They helped with education, but as we were wayward characters they wrote letters to my Mother saying that if we did not work harder, or behave better, the pension would be cut. 'The Minister of Pensions' lurked behind letters received at the beginning of the holidays when school reports came in. We were never quite wicked enough for retribution and survived but my Mother did not. She died when I was 10 years old and we went to live with the Sister and her Husband. I did not know what a wonderful life would follow this move and how everlastingly I would respect, love and bless them.
My Aunt and Mother had lived in Mauritius till they married. Aunt Patty was prim and proper and a staunch Christian. My Uncle Bos (Boscowen) Gordon was a really wonderful man. He had a brilliant career. He was strict and rather fierce, but such fun at the same time. I first met him on our return to England when I was 2 ½ years old. He and my Aunt met us at Waterloo and he gave me a Teddy Bear. I can remember clutching him round the knees and saying: 'I like him. I like him. I like him ...'
The Aunt had lived in Mauritius with our large family of twenty-four in a rambling house near Moca. Great Grand Mother, Grand Mother and several brothers and sisters, friends and cousins. My Grandfather was a Doctor, but died early, he had lost all his money in a lethal cyclone which killed off the Island's sugar crop in which his money was invested.
Life was very basic. My Mother and two Aunts owned one pair of shoes between them and they had one Indian servant who was dear to all of them. They had no education, except what the family could teach them.
Mauritius had a splendid deep harbour and the Eastern Fleet spent three months there every year and there was also a Regiment based there. The Governor and his Lady had to entertain a great deal and found the Aunt's Patty and Esme very handy for dances and picnics. My Mother was younger but came in for lots of fun. How can you do this with one pair of shoes between three girls? Through the generosity of Sir Graham and Lady Bower and the fact that the girls were brilliant needle women and made their own clothes. Lady Bower sent to England for my Aunt's first evening dress, for a grand ball they were giving and Aunt Patty met the ADC and they fell in love. Lady Bower forbade the engagement. The ADC had only his pay, £400 a year and the Aunt had no money. The engagement was NOT POSSIBLE, Forbidden.
The Regiment, the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers was sent to India. The ADC put an advertisement in the local paper for a job as governess for his beloved. They heard of a job and Patty defied Lady Bower and left for India as soon as possible.
It is a strange fate arranges our lives. The Father of the family my Aunt worked for had to stay in Delhi during the hot weather so his wife stayed too. They asked my Aunt to take their two girls to the hills, to Simla. The Aunt was very reluctant to take this heavy responsibility but eventually agreed. One of the girls got enteric fever while in Simla and my Aunt implored the doctor to send for their Mother as the child was seriously ill. 'She will either be dead, or have recovered by the time Mrs. L. could get here' said the doctor. So the Aunt nursed the child and she recovered. When the Mother arrived in Simla later she embraced the Aunt and said ' I will give you anything in the world in my power'. The Aunt said she would like to marry her ADC. Mrs. L said 'You shall marry him here. We will give you your wedding and your wedding dress.'
So she married the ADC, Bos Gordon. He rode, hunted on borrowed horses and she made their quarters beautiful by covering wooden boxes with pretty materials. He tells a story of a gymkhana, where they had to ride to the other end of the course, write a four line poem to their lady, pick her up and ride back to the finish. She had never ridden a horse!
'Here she comes
Pitta pat Pitta pat.
The dear little girl
In the big black hat.
Uncle Bos was the nicest man in the world! I really think so.
They came home after six years in India to be engulfed in the Great War. He was in France in the trenches and recommended for the VC but he got a D.S.O. Then he learnt to fly on the old wooden and string planes and wore wings and was in the R.F.C. (Royal Flying Corps). I am not quite sure how this worked. This led him to being Chief of Staff to Lord Trenchard and he got a C.M.G for that. He was then sent to Scotland, near Loch Doon, to start and run an experimental flying boat station. My brothers and I stayed with them and had a wonderful time. I was five years old and remember the Duke of Connaught coming to inspect the Air Station. They went all over the station, closely followed by me. They crossed a plank over a waterway. I was very frightened of falling in but HAD to keep up! Once the other side they stopped to discuss something, turned round and went back over the plank. Panic, but I had to go too. Right - whatever it was OK and back they went over the plank again. I HAD to follow, but was still terrified.
On Lord Trenchard's staff was Sir Walter Lawrence, who had been Agent in Chief to the Duke of Bedford before the War. He had to tell the Duke he felt too old and weary, when peace was declared, to go back to work for him. 'Find me someone else' said the Duke.
He found Uncle Bos, which was the beginning for him and Patty, of a wonderful 24 years with the Duke.
I also remember being quite a trial to the Sergeant's Mess. I loved bully beef and they offered me some if I could quit talking for a whole five minutes. I managed it with difficulty.
The Uncle's batman was called Bachelor. His reply, when I called him was usually 'died of wounds' (Unattainable)!
The Uncle and Aunt announced that they were going for a walk. Peter was told firmly that he could not come. He was cross and stuck a large file twice into a Fusilier drum which was cherished by the Uncle. A year before a shot had gone in one side and out the other, the drummer was unhurt. When admonished for this useless act my Aunt said 'what would you do to a little boy who had done such a horrid thing?' 'I would have take him for a walk' said Peter.
Some acquaintances of my Aunt's came to tea and stayed far too long. The Uncle made up a poem:
Mr Smith and Mrs Smith
Went out to tea one Sunday
They ate so much and stayed so long
They didn't go back till Monday.
Later, they came to tea again. Peter was told, sternly that he was not to mention the rhyme. I can remember him sitting on the floor by the fire, saying 'Hm Hm Hm Hm, Hm Hm .... Thats about you' to the Smiths. My aunt thinking too quickly decided it was better to tell them the rhyme! I do not think they met again! Another rhyme my Uncle produced:
Auntie Patty was so good
She always acted as she should
She always sat up straight at table
And ate as much as she was able.
My Mother battled to earn by sewing enough to keep herself and three children. Dim years which I prefer to forget. She was brave and cheerful and much admired by many. She knew she was dying and wanted my Uncle to be Guardian to us, also the Bishop of Bristol, who was a good friend. He wrote 'I do not think I have ever met a more wonderful woman or a better Christian.'
Chapter 2
So here we were, living with the Gordons. They had a house in South Kensington and another in a village very near Woburn Abbey, in fact surrounded on three sides by Woburn Park. The Old Rectory, a lovely house, which had been lived in by the Duke's Master of the Horse' and had six stables, tack rooms and two garages and a spacious garden which included a tennis court.
What more could one want? Perfection, of course a horse or two would be nice. There were soon two horses looking out of the stalls doors!
My Uncle's main preoccupation was with the Duke's London estate, but there was also Woburn, Scotland, Devon, Somerset and Norfolk which all had local agents under him. He took me with him to all these places, but mostly to Devon: the Ducal estate which had 22 miles of the Tamar in it - Salmon fishing. Once or twice we shot the rapids in style. There was a large Canadian canoe for my Uncle, spare clothes, a picnic and three Rob Roy (very tippable) canoes. I usually, probably aged 12, tipped mine up as soon as I got into it and started the journey soaked to the skin. There were two rapids which were thrilling and several places where two groins nearly met in the middle of the river, where, if your canoe was not well aligned, the canoe could break in half.
My Uncle had the shooting there later on. I attempted to train a lovely black Labrador, with great lack of success. He knew exactly what to do, but had ideas of his own and was unreliable.
The birds came out of the hills beyond the river at a tremendous pace - and very high, so it was good shooting!
I remember a day when my brothers were there and three other boys, all about 16 or 17 years old. We were fooling about the small lake near the house when another lad, who had been fishing, joined us. The boys dared him to get in and swim, in his waders. He stayed in for twenty minutes, which stayed in my mind in later years when I got into trouble in rivers! When he got out, his waders were full of water, so were his clothes and he was tired!
Years later I was in Devon with my husband and two year old Adria and I got a day's fishing on the Tamer. I gradually waded, with difficulty, into the middle of a fast bit of river and we heard a plop. Adria had fallen down the steep slope and was being carried down fast. The bed of the river was all biggish stones, difficult to maneuver in waders and I could not catch her up. Luckily the Head Gardener's daughter came down to join us. She jumped in and rescued her! Looking back on this I cannot understand why Jack did not rescue her. There must have been a reason, but I forget! Before Adria was 10 she had two more tries to drown herself. One in Suffolk and once in Malta, but as I write this she is sixty one and going strong.
We stayed with the Agent in the Scottish estate (Cainsmore). He had a beautiful daughter, who had a tame fox cub which thought she was its Mother. I was enchanted.
The Uncle was looking for a Dower House for the Duchess - the Flying Duchess - and we went all over England looking at lovely houses, which for a variety of reasons, the Duchess turned down. Then one day we looked at Whispers, near Liphook. It was lovely and he told the Duchess about it.
'Go and buy it' said the Duchess - 'You know by now what I want.' So he did and had added, at the Duchess' request a Power house, an Aerodrome and Hanger, before she ever even saw it. She approved luckily but sadly, she never lived in it as she was lost flying two years later.
The Flying Duchess was a wonderful person. She was profoundly deaf, which was a serious disadvantage to her. She was the daughter of a parson and she was a trained nurse. The Duke built her a Cottage Hospital where she reigned, in charge or the X-ray Unit and she was called 'Matron'. She also had a lovely country house turned into a Nursing home where both the Uncle and Aunt had been nursed and where my Mother died. I remember the three mile journey there so many times, in a pony and trap.
My Uncle went to see the Duke, in the morning two or three times a week. He left me with the car in the garages where I became friendly with the chauffeurs and the black smith and visited all the buildings near the garages. The Sculpture Gallery was sometimes open. The first thing I saw was the 'Three Graces'. I do not think I saw much beyond the Graces which were enchanting and took my complete attention, though there were many more sculptures there.
'It was told' that some Americans came to the Abbey and the Duchess took them round the huge house and then to the Sculpture Gallery. They duly admired the Three Graces and one of them asked the Duchess: 'And which one is your Grace?'
My brothers and I asked the Uncle how we would address the Duke if we met him in Woburn Park. After a bit of thought he said:
'The boys should call him 'Sir' and you should call him 'Your Grace'!
Back to the Duchess. At an advanced age she went up in a private airplane. To her delight she found she would HEAR voices over the Intercom, so she bought a Moth.
I have a picture of a later plane, the Spider, in which she flew with her pilot, to India and back in seven days. A record in 1920. It is signed by her and her pilot. She flew solo a great deal. One rough day which I remember well, there were several severe hail storms. She had flown to Norfolk to see her Nature Reserve and never came back. It was a mystery until weeks later, remains of her plane were washed up on the shore in Norfolk.
My brothers and I were allowed in Woburn Park and though I cannot remember my brothers taking advantage of this I certainly did. Close to our house were the Zebras, looked after by an oldish man, who always contrived to get between the zebras and me as they were untrustworthy and would kick and bite. I think it was Lord Rothschild who drove a Coach and Four Zebras along the Mall in London.
Wandering around the park I found the European Bison's enclosure. I was about 12 years old and had no idea they were the most treacherous and dangerous of animals. The bull advanced to the high wire fence and I scratched his huge head which he seemed to enjoy. I often visited them and the bull always sauntered up to have his head scratched. One day a keeper came along and nearly threw a fit! I was told I was never to go there again.
There was a big herd of Pere David deer who were loose in the park. Their bones creaked loudly as they moved. I watched two cranes doing their mating dance. Beautiful and majestic. My dog was chased by a Rhea, who had 16 babies, identical miniatures trailing behind. My Uncle lobbed his bicycle at the Reah and she swerved away and the babies followed. Peter found a Rhea's egg. You could make scrambled egg for 6 people with one egg. We made a hole and tried to blow it but nothing happened. We made another hole the other end, nothing happened. We sawed it in half and it was very bad and smelt horrible!
About this time we found rats in the rubbish heap behind the stables. Hugh, Peter and I stood round the enormous heap, while a cousin threw in a banger. The air gun was supposed to shoot escaping rats. Peter silently and unseen got behind me and pinched my ankle. I screamed desperately as I thought a rat had got me.
A keeper told us that a few years before, the last giraffe had died, they made a funeral pyre for it. In the great heat its long neck and head waved around!
Chapter 3
Of course, interrupting this magic life, I had to go to school. While the Aunt and Uncle were in London I went to a school in Queen's Gate. I remember a friend called Prudence Maxwell-Light. She was the grand daughter of the man who wrote: 'Abide With Me'. I thought this was wonderful and still do! In fact my youngest daughter is called Prudence!
Then , for some reason, possibly because it was nearer to the house in South Kensington I was moved to Roland House's School and even at nine years old could walk there by myself. I enjoyed my time there. The Head mistress' niece, the same age as me, another Barbara, and I were the youngest borders. When the time came that my Mother was so ill it must have been convenient to have me off their hands. We were rather spoilt by the Headmistress' Mother. I remember that when we were naughty we were sent to bed without any supper, old Ma Roby brought us a tray of goodies! A great tie between Roby and me was that both our fathers had been killed at Gallipoli.
The school joined with other London schools to act a Christmas play at the Aldwich Theatre. We were in the Christmas Day scene. Roby and I were elves, carrying in the Christmas presents to two girls fast asleep in bed. But they woke up and jumped up and down on the bed and broke it. The older girl, Mary Martin, with great presence of mind got the elves to help her mend it.
We also took part in St Martins-in-the-Fields rehearsals and show when Martin Shaw launched his song for the Girl Guides. 'Glad Heart's Adventuring'. I wonder if it is ever sung today.
Then the Uncle and Aunt decided to live entirely at the Old Rectory and I was sent to yet another school, which was not a success - the Vyne near Basingstoke in Hampshire was a beautiful house. We had lovely school uniforms of Royal Blue with silk blue and white striped blouses and velvet dresses for Sunday. These were the only good things about the school so far as I was concerned and I was removed and sent to yet another school.
The latest was a Clergy Daughters School, St Mary's Hall in Brighton. This was through the influence of the Bishop of Bristol and I was one of about 50 non clergy daughters. This was good and bad. Hockey and Netball and French and Latin and friends and enemies. At 17 I had had enough and decided I should leave and start real life. My Aunt had a serious talk with me putting to me what I should gain if I stayed another year and how I should miss out if I did not take School Certificate and Matriculation. She said I should go away and think seriously about it and then we would decide.
I thought seriously that I should leave, but she told me I was wrong and I was going to stay! This, I think, did not do much good but I did work and passed exams and behaved quite well and that was that.!
Then I decided I was going in for Photography. The Bishop's wife said it was Not Suitable for a young girl and there was no question about it. NO. The mind boggles! My Aunt decided that it was best for me to stay at home and become civilized.
Thus started seven years of a wonderful time, which I shall tell in another chapter.
Chapter 4
The holidays, during my last years at school had been superb. Dances nearly every night. Though I was not allowed to go to the Hunt Ball, as I was not 'out'. Masses of parties, theatres, riding.
My Aunt made it quite clear to us that the boys and I had no money and this lovely life was because of the Uncle's position. We were not to get 'IDEAS'. My dress (and everything else) allowance, was £30 a year. She would not allow the Uncle to give me more. This made life somewhat complicated, as I had the use of a Baby Austin. In my diaries I was continually running out of petrol. This is because petrol was so expensive (1/6 or 8p per gallon) I could only put one gallon in the car at a time. I spent a week in London with friends of my Mother's and went to the theatre every night and only had one home-made dress. In those days in the stalls or Dress Circle everyone wore Evening Dress. However, the Aunt had rubbed it in well, that we were penniless and we had to get used to it. Peter got grand ideas and lovely though he seemed to me, was a born liar and managed to live the high life, a budding Confidence Trickster by the age of eighteen. I had begun to realize this and, for me, he lost his glamour. I believed none of his stories, even if they were true. He had a girl friend in Edinburgh. (Did he? I didn't believe him). However, he took me to meet her. She was very pretty and had a strong Edinburgh accent. He later brought her to the Old Rectory to stay and told the Uncle he was going to marry her. The Uncle said he was not old enough and was earning a living in the RAF as a Flying Officer. Before this Peter had been at Wellington College, had not worked, but had had a good time and knew all the right people. He ran up bills, especially as he played Raquets, which was an expensive game. The Uncle had to bail him out several times. He took him away from Wellington and sent him to a Crammer. There he met a youth, Teddy W. son of a well born Army man, who was up to no good, again Peter got into trouble, both at the Crammer and when be brought Teddy home to stay. They both got very drink on the Uncle's whiskey and the youth pursued me relentlessly. He was, in the end, banned from coming to stay. However, Peter got into the RAF and nobody ever contested the fact that he was a brilliant flyer.
On Peter's 21st birthday he married Gay (the girl from Edinburgh). He was twenty-one and nobody was going to tell him who he could or could not marry. They came South for the Honeymoon and one day I answered the telephone: 'Gay and I have married, we are quite near and are coming to stay. Get the double room ready.'
I had to break the news to the Uncle and Aunt who were not pleased!
The visit was quite pleasant. Now they were married my Uncle had to accept it. I did not know until later that the Uncle had written to Gay's Father telling him that he had forbidden the marriage as Peter was too young and only his RAF pay and NO expectations financially and could not expect any further pay outs from him. I do not know if he got an answer to this letter.
They expected a baby and I was quite excited by this and had a hope that having a child would tame Peter. It did not, tho' he worshipped his daughter (Pam) when she arrived, and after a couple of years he moved on to another girl, also from Edinburgh. He was divorced by the time his twins arrived, so he married Miss Edinburgh the Second. In quick time twin girls arrived and I did meet his new wife and babies - just once. Peter was then stationed somewhere in the South and one weekend he 'borrowed' a plane and went North to see his wife. The RAF was not pleased and gave him the sack. Not much later the War started and he was taken back into the RAF as a sergeant Instructor. He left his wife and twins, divorced, and married a girl born in Essex by whom he had a daughter and son. They were in India when the war stopped and he continued flying for British India until he was moved to Dubai to Gulf Air. He had had enough of his third wife so he sent her home. This time there was no divorce. Nevertheless he 'Married' an Austrian girl and produced two more daughters.
For twenty years I did not see, or connect with Peter. After the second divorce we lost touch. I was to meet him later, in Dubai, of all places!
Meanwhile, Hugh, who was a year older than Peter, had been at the Imperial Service College, where he was lost and unhappy. At 13 he went to Pangborne where he did reasonably well, and from there went into The Merchant Service, Blue Funnel Line and had a reasonably happy two years. Then his ship had to dock for six weeks a for a refit in New York harbour. All the officers took leave and he, as a midshipman was left in charge. Life in the dockyard shocked him considerably. He had not met the seamy side of life before and I gather the goings-on were beyond belief. On his return home he left the Merchant Navy.
So what to do? The Uncle had a friend who had a brother who had gone to Kenya where he started a Sisal factory. The brother agreed to take Hugh as an apprentice. I remember seeing him off in London. He had 4 suitcases. Three were musical instruments and in the smallest one were his clothes! The Sisal factory was not a success and Hugh took off into the blue to seek his fortune. In fact he went Gold mining and had really rather fun and found gold! But that is another story.
Back in our school holidays the two boys and I spent most of our time playing music. I played the piano and had a set of drums. Hugh played the violin and Peter the ukulele and swanee whistle. We went round the villages playing for dancing. There was, of course, no radio and television, so the unsophisticated villages were quite glad of our rather indifferent band. Later, when the boys left home I joined up with a girl friend in Bedford who played the piano brilliantly. I played the drums. We had great fun and were quite in demand!
The Uncle was a great sportsman. Real Huntin', Shootin' and Fishin' gent. So the stables were full of horses. He bought a horse for the boys to keep them out of mischief, but they both preferred motor bikes.
True to form, Peter had a splendid BSA motorbike and Hugh had a terrible old Rudge Multi. The latter was nearly always in pieces and Hugh, covered in oil, worked on it for hours. He removed every possible part from the bike, so that it would go faster. No mud guards, no bell???, even no brakes. The only way to stop was to put his feet down to slow it, or fall into the hedge. Hugh also put in hours in the workshop and became a brilliant carpenter, as was the Uncle. As a small child, staying with the Aunt and Uncle I spent as much time as possible in the workshop, where I watched the Uncle. I asked him what he was making. 'A rabbit hutch' he told me.
'But we haven't got a rabbit.'
'We can get one when it is finished.'
Christmas came and it was a dolls house with 4 rooms and furniture and some dolls to live in it! What a magic Uncle!
They gave a Fancy Dress party, in London. There were seventy children. My Mother made a superb dress for me exactly copying a French doll the Uncle had sent me from France in the war from Alsace. I had a royal blue skirt with coloured braid round the hem, a red silk blouse and a little blue shawl and carried a little slate with "Vive l'Alsace" on it. On my head I wore the black head dress of Alsace, with a British rosette on it. I had blue and white striped socks (very difficult to find) and black dancing shoes. I carried the doll, dressed exactly the same. Uncle Bos, at the end, led us round the drawing room singing, 'a hunting we will go' and blowing his hunting horn!
The Uncle expected the boys to be able to ride but of course they had never had the chance before and did not come up to his expectations. He was disappointed!
Chapter N
My fishing partner, Tony Cooke, had met Peter Banks fishing for salmon in Canada. Peter asked Tony to come back next year and he would fix up some fishing trips for him. This Tony did and they had five trips, a wholly satisfactory and wonderful six weeks. The following year I and Tony went to Patagonia and Peter was invited to join us. Another wonderful fortnights fishing. Peter then invited me to join Tony the next year on another five fishing expeditions in Canada.
Just before we left for Canada, I had a phone call from an acquaintance called Sue, who lived in the same village as me. She had just been staying in Canada with Peter and his wife and she knew they were expecting us very soon but were worried about bedrooms. In fact they wanted to know if Tony and I shared a room or not! I put her right. We did not share a room.
This is getting complicated. Peter had a charming wife, two sons and a daughter. The younger son (Nicky, young enough to be my grandson) and I got on very well and fished together on several occasions during our six weeks in Canada.
Now, a good ten years later, Nicky came to England and bless him, came and took me out to lunch. We could not remember Sue's name, but talked about her visit to his father.
He rang me the day before his departure and said 'By the way, you remember we could not remember that woman's name - well it is Sue -. I have just been to see an old friend, a solicitor, and met his wife, who was the Sue we knew, who had divorced her husband and married his friend. Extraordinary combination of events.
I meet Tony at Bridge. Tony met Peter Bates in Canada, fishing for sea trout in Queen Charlottes' Island. Peter knows a young woman in Rockbourne called Sue, where I was living and she goes to Canada and stays with Peter and Mary and comes back and rings me to tell me their latest news. Nicky, Peter's youngest son fishes with us in Canada and six years later comes to visit me. We cannot remember Sue's name. But he rings me before he leaves for Canada to say he had been staying with a very old friend of his, who had lately married Sue who had divorced her husband. All these people connected, by chance, in Canada an parts of England"
Tuesday 18 December 2007
Scouting - the early days
I left school in 1929 when I was 17½ - all prepared to 'Have a Career'. I wasn't sure what it was to be! My Aunt (my Mother's sister) and Uncle had my two brothers and myself and looked after us after our parent's death. Aunt Patty suggested that I should live at home for a year till I was a bit more grown up, to enjoy country life. I thought this was a good idea. It certainly was a good idea, so good that after the year I had no desire to abandon it. There was lots of tennis, squash, riding and dances galore. Lots of friends, male and female to do these things with - a lovely life in a lovely home with a very dear Uncle and Aunt.
One day my Aunt had a serious discussion with me. I was having a good life and it was time I put something back into the community, into village life. What about the Women's Institute? She was president and I had been to several meetings with her but did not want to join. Well, perhaps Mother's Union? Absolutely NO. Girl Guides? No - I had been one at school and had had enough of them. With slight bravado I said, "what about a Boy's Club?"
It seemed to be the only thing we could agree on and she and my Uncle told me to go ahead. I put out a message that I was prepared to start a Boy's Club if any of the boys would like to join. I hired the Village Hall, set a date and awaited results.
Bearing in mind that ours was a very small rural village ( Eversholt in Bedfordshire) it was difficult to imagine what the outcome of this proposal would be.
The day came and 12 boys of 11 to 18 years old turned up. I amused or interested them sufficiently for 10 of them to come regularly to a weekly meeting and one day Stan Fleet (our Charwoman's son) said, "Please Miss, we want to be Scouts".
I discussed this with the Archdeacon, who was the County Commissioner, who decided that as there was no man in the village who could do it, perhaps we should sound out the idea. The final outcome was that I learnt my knots and the Scout Promise etc and the boys did the same. In time we had a splendid enrollment with all the right officials present and all the families. We were the 73rd Beds Scout Troop!
Weekly meetings were consistently well attended. The boys worked at getting badges and we went to various local places of interest etc. Come the Summer and thoughts of camping, my idea that year was to take a barge and go on the canals. This really frightened my family. Myself, aged 19, taking ten boys of 11 to 18 on water was too much. My Aunt, who was always determined I needed my tonsils out (for the second time, first being at 7 years old in St Thomas' Hospital) decided this was a good time to do it. No, I have got this wrong, it was the appendix to be removed. I certainly did have lots of unexplained pains and that may have been the reason. So into nursing home I went for about 10 days in London and the canal trip was averted.
In the next years we went to various places, Norfolk, locally in Ridgemont, and then Big Adventure, we crossed the sea to Jersey. By then I had a friend, Janet Hutton, who came with us and was very popular with the boys and when we went to Jersey, Dudley Craig, a friend from Northumberland, came with us. By then we had acquired a Bell Tent, which was our Head Quarters and Janet's and my bedroom. Dudley had his own tent. Also with us (I was engaged to Jack by this time) was Jack's brother Bob and the Duchess's pilot's son who shared a tent and there were four other tents for the boys.
Jersey was highly successful except for one awful night when we had prolonged heavy rain. After supper Dudley set forth to see if all was well. It wasn't - his tent had collapsed, so had Bob's and the boys were piled in two tents. Our tent, he told us with much glee was leaning at an angle, with at least four tent pegs out of the earth. He was extremely good and sorted us and the boys and put up his own soggy tent. He then returned to us, having decided he would sleep in our bell tent which we were a bit stuffy about and exiled him to his own damp tent.
Another troop camping in the same field had a Scout Master who had the same problems, got pneumonia and died in hospital.
We did several expeditions and went to tea with the Governor to whom we had an introduction. The boys took all this in their stride. They were becoming seasoned travelers!
The year I got married they decided to go by themselves to the International Jamboree in Holland. There they won the shield for the best camp - Unbelievable!
Janet carried on with the Troop until the war started when she worked at Bletchly Park and the Scouts all joined up with the Beds and Herts Regiment. After a bit they were sent to Singapore and arrived the day the Japanese captured Malaya and were all in Prison Camp for the rest of the war. They survived the horrors of the Burma Road and Japanese atrocities and came home to the village when peace was declared.
I, sadly, lost touch with our lovely village, Eversholt, and with the boys, tho' I did get news of them from Janet, who married Alan Barr, the Schoolmistress' son. I was traveling all over the world, having children and being a Naval Officer's wife. Many years went by and I had taken up Glass Engraving. I went to a Symposium led by Lawrence Whistler. It was not far out of my way to Cambridge to call in at Eversholt the first time for many years and things looked a bit different. For Instance the Charwoman's house (Stan Fleet's Mother) was now a bijou residence with flower boxes in every window, a very different place to the grubby, untidy cottage I knew!
I went to the village shop to try to find any of the 'boys'. I asked for Stan Fleet, no, there was no by of that name in the village. There was an old man called Stan Fleet but he was 75. As I was 77 of course he was the one!
I visited the house he then lived in and we were so please to meet again and had a lot to talk about. He suggested that on my way home I should stay at the Bedford Arms in Woburn and he would give a party for as many people of our days he could find. I willingly agreed.
The party was great. Stan produced plentiful sherry and I met 4 of the original Scouts and a housemaid (at the Old Rectory) and was the widow of our chauffeur. A lovely party and a lovely hug from Stan at the end.
Earlier I would have mentioned a Scout Master's Jamboree. There were so many Scoutmasters there because we were to be addressed by Sir Robert Baden-Powell. I was sitting cross legged at the front. Sir Robert appeared. "Gentlemen" he started, the saw me, "Lady and Gentlemen I should have said"!!
I never had any troubles with discipline. I was backed by my Uncle who was the Squire of the village and behind him the Duke of Bedford who was the benign owner of a huge estate and owned the villages all round Woburn Park.
I remember an occasion in camp when three of the senior boys (probably 19 to 21) asked if they could go to the Pub for a drink. Who was I to stop them, but I stipulated that they should be back in camp by 10:30. I was displeased when they arrived 3 minutes late.
We travelled steerage to Jersey, actually we spent the night on deck, sitting by the rail, various boys passed us to be sick over the side and in the morning a boy said to me, "Well, Miss, we fetched it up"!
On another occasion, I said I was a mess and must go and tidy up. Stan said, "Well, Miss, you cleans up nice"!
Once we had a splendid day out hunting one of the boys who had gone ahead half an hour earlier. I walked along the cliffs which were covered by luxurious ferns. These hid the clefts which one had to watch for carefully.
Later in the day we found our quarry and all met and went back to camp. One boy was missing. We all went out again to find him. I looked very nervously down the clefts in the cliffs in case he was a corpse at the bottom. We did not find him and went back to the camp to find he had arrived there - great relief.
We got good marks from the County Commissioner for our cooking of a joint of beef. We made a hot fire, then raked it out, put the meat in and replaced the earth and turf on top and went off for the day. What he luckily did not know was the joint was raw six hours later. The air had got in!
One day my Aunt had a serious discussion with me. I was having a good life and it was time I put something back into the community, into village life. What about the Women's Institute? She was president and I had been to several meetings with her but did not want to join. Well, perhaps Mother's Union? Absolutely NO. Girl Guides? No - I had been one at school and had had enough of them. With slight bravado I said, "what about a Boy's Club?"
It seemed to be the only thing we could agree on and she and my Uncle told me to go ahead. I put out a message that I was prepared to start a Boy's Club if any of the boys would like to join. I hired the Village Hall, set a date and awaited results.
Bearing in mind that ours was a very small rural village ( Eversholt in Bedfordshire) it was difficult to imagine what the outcome of this proposal would be.
The day came and 12 boys of 11 to 18 years old turned up. I amused or interested them sufficiently for 10 of them to come regularly to a weekly meeting and one day Stan Fleet (our Charwoman's son) said, "Please Miss, we want to be Scouts".
I discussed this with the Archdeacon, who was the County Commissioner, who decided that as there was no man in the village who could do it, perhaps we should sound out the idea. The final outcome was that I learnt my knots and the Scout Promise etc and the boys did the same. In time we had a splendid enrollment with all the right officials present and all the families. We were the 73rd Beds Scout Troop!
Weekly meetings were consistently well attended. The boys worked at getting badges and we went to various local places of interest etc. Come the Summer and thoughts of camping, my idea that year was to take a barge and go on the canals. This really frightened my family. Myself, aged 19, taking ten boys of 11 to 18 on water was too much. My Aunt, who was always determined I needed my tonsils out (for the second time, first being at 7 years old in St Thomas' Hospital) decided this was a good time to do it. No, I have got this wrong, it was the appendix to be removed. I certainly did have lots of unexplained pains and that may have been the reason. So into nursing home I went for about 10 days in London and the canal trip was averted.
In the next years we went to various places, Norfolk, locally in Ridgemont, and then Big Adventure, we crossed the sea to Jersey. By then I had a friend, Janet Hutton, who came with us and was very popular with the boys and when we went to Jersey, Dudley Craig, a friend from Northumberland, came with us. By then we had acquired a Bell Tent, which was our Head Quarters and Janet's and my bedroom. Dudley had his own tent. Also with us (I was engaged to Jack by this time) was Jack's brother Bob and the Duchess's pilot's son who shared a tent and there were four other tents for the boys.
Jersey was highly successful except for one awful night when we had prolonged heavy rain. After supper Dudley set forth to see if all was well. It wasn't - his tent had collapsed, so had Bob's and the boys were piled in two tents. Our tent, he told us with much glee was leaning at an angle, with at least four tent pegs out of the earth. He was extremely good and sorted us and the boys and put up his own soggy tent. He then returned to us, having decided he would sleep in our bell tent which we were a bit stuffy about and exiled him to his own damp tent.
Another troop camping in the same field had a Scout Master who had the same problems, got pneumonia and died in hospital.
We did several expeditions and went to tea with the Governor to whom we had an introduction. The boys took all this in their stride. They were becoming seasoned travelers!
The year I got married they decided to go by themselves to the International Jamboree in Holland. There they won the shield for the best camp - Unbelievable!
Janet carried on with the Troop until the war started when she worked at Bletchly Park and the Scouts all joined up with the Beds and Herts Regiment. After a bit they were sent to Singapore and arrived the day the Japanese captured Malaya and were all in Prison Camp for the rest of the war. They survived the horrors of the Burma Road and Japanese atrocities and came home to the village when peace was declared.
I, sadly, lost touch with our lovely village, Eversholt, and with the boys, tho' I did get news of them from Janet, who married Alan Barr, the Schoolmistress' son. I was traveling all over the world, having children and being a Naval Officer's wife. Many years went by and I had taken up Glass Engraving. I went to a Symposium led by Lawrence Whistler. It was not far out of my way to Cambridge to call in at Eversholt the first time for many years and things looked a bit different. For Instance the Charwoman's house (Stan Fleet's Mother) was now a bijou residence with flower boxes in every window, a very different place to the grubby, untidy cottage I knew!
I went to the village shop to try to find any of the 'boys'. I asked for Stan Fleet, no, there was no by of that name in the village. There was an old man called Stan Fleet but he was 75. As I was 77 of course he was the one!
I visited the house he then lived in and we were so please to meet again and had a lot to talk about. He suggested that on my way home I should stay at the Bedford Arms in Woburn and he would give a party for as many people of our days he could find. I willingly agreed.
The party was great. Stan produced plentiful sherry and I met 4 of the original Scouts and a housemaid (at the Old Rectory) and was the widow of our chauffeur. A lovely party and a lovely hug from Stan at the end.
Earlier I would have mentioned a Scout Master's Jamboree. There were so many Scoutmasters there because we were to be addressed by Sir Robert Baden-Powell. I was sitting cross legged at the front. Sir Robert appeared. "Gentlemen" he started, the saw me, "Lady and Gentlemen I should have said"!!
I never had any troubles with discipline. I was backed by my Uncle who was the Squire of the village and behind him the Duke of Bedford who was the benign owner of a huge estate and owned the villages all round Woburn Park.
I remember an occasion in camp when three of the senior boys (probably 19 to 21) asked if they could go to the Pub for a drink. Who was I to stop them, but I stipulated that they should be back in camp by 10:30. I was displeased when they arrived 3 minutes late.
We travelled steerage to Jersey, actually we spent the night on deck, sitting by the rail, various boys passed us to be sick over the side and in the morning a boy said to me, "Well, Miss, we fetched it up"!
On another occasion, I said I was a mess and must go and tidy up. Stan said, "Well, Miss, you cleans up nice"!
Once we had a splendid day out hunting one of the boys who had gone ahead half an hour earlier. I walked along the cliffs which were covered by luxurious ferns. These hid the clefts which one had to watch for carefully.
Later in the day we found our quarry and all met and went back to camp. One boy was missing. We all went out again to find him. I looked very nervously down the clefts in the cliffs in case he was a corpse at the bottom. We did not find him and went back to the camp to find he had arrived there - great relief.
We got good marks from the County Commissioner for our cooking of a joint of beef. We made a hot fire, then raked it out, put the meat in and replaced the earth and turf on top and went off for the day. What he luckily did not know was the joint was raw six hours later. The air had got in!
Fishing on the Ponoi - 1996 - a diary
August 10th Saturday
Only five more days to lift off. Lots to do, including six of family to lunch tomorrow. Had excellent lunch with Audrey Fanshawe do today. Did a bit of sorting of fishing gear and mended Barbour. Stiff neck - going I think - what else can happen?
August 11th. Sunday
Nice to have Conrad, Adria, Arthur and Prue for lunch. Went for a walk in POURING rain. It stopped soon after we got back. Arthur's dog is gorgeous.
August 12th Monday
Went to Salisbury for vodka and cigarettes and to get rid of papers and bottles. Walked Harry. Sorted reels, one very fouled up. Would like to take it to Russia. One singing with shooting head, one floating ditto. One just floating and one intermediate. A bit heavy for the luggage. Waxed my Barbour. It seems heavier than ever!
Rang Tony. He would not have been fit to go to Russia. Only one heal has healed and I don't think he feels very well. Did a big wash. Also put flowers in pots outside and washed the bowls. Hope they survive. Am smoking too much.
August 14th Wednesday
Have collected medicines. Rung Mike, who has rung Frontiers to check flights. Stopped milk and papers. Sorted note case and packed. Petrol in case. Ironed two skirts and three bloused. Packed medicines - lost labels!
August 15th Thursday
Taxi with nice young driver arrived on time. Mark and Caroline 'saw me off'. Found Mike at the bar at the Arlington ready with a Vodka and Tonic. We ate in the bar. Poor man, his walled was stolen at Heathrow and he is without English money or credit cards. Very stoical about it.
August 16th Friday
Off at 8 for the Air Port and WAIT FOR MY CHAIR. In the end only time to rush into Duty Free for cigarettes and straight to the plane. Kit bags searched with a tooth comb. The life belt evidently the trouble. Hope mine gets through in kit bag. Good lunch. Cross words and views of South Sweden. 3.30 local time arrived Helsinki and a nice girl took us, in huge bus to hotel. Big room and huge bed. Can't open windows. Had an awful night at the Arlington and was sleeping soundly when was woken at 6.45. An earlier start tomorrow and last bath for a week!
We walked a long way into the town and took a tripper boat round the harbour which turned out to be 1½ hours round countless attractive islands. There must be 100 or more. A chap told us in 4 languages what to look out for. In 'shirt sleeves' and net top. Cold on the top deck. Well worth doing. Such a wonderful place and so unexpected. Lots of Japanese tourists. Have not connected with any of our party yet.
Saturday August 17th
We got here at last. Up at 5 AM and sat in the bus (after a quick breakfast) One poor chap had no visa and had to be left behind. To Murmansk and another long wait and then with ancient and noisy helicopter with the luggage. No comfort there! About two hours over dreary country and got nervous about my inside which always plays up when one is in no position to do anything about it. Met all our party. South Africans very pleasant.
All the staff do everything possible to help in any way and couldn't be nicer. Lovely big tents with wood fire (not lit tonight thanks be) Mosquito killer (electric). Cold water and basin. Shelf space and hangers and two beds.
I have been lent a Looms double handed rod and single handed rod and a wading stick. After a very early dinner (because of our Travel) I went down to the river with a rod - 8 people there already and not moving, so only had a short go. A ?? St Petersburg boy helped me across a small river, hovered behind. Two ghillies on duty 'in case'. They drew lots for beats and ghillies tomorrow. I have drawn the Englishman, who seems nice. They all are and really do all they can to keep one happy. I am to have coffee at 7.15 tomorrow because a thermos 'would not be nice'.
It is raining! Set in slowly. River is low and they have had a hot week. I wonder what OUR weather will be like. Still very warm. Bed at 8.30. Still do not know, or my tummy does not know what time it is really. 3 hours difference our time.
Hope for a good night after two bad ones in hotels.
August 18th Sunday
Went out with Ian, the Englishman who lives at Staunton? Morning quiet but we got 5 fish. One 19 lbs and missed a few. One to Comadie? which broke the hook. Ian such fun and enjoyed the day so much.
Dinner with the South Africans was fun. Talked to the Canadian scientific chap who wants to do an article on me!! Always knew I was meant to be famous! Parted from the scientist (who was most interesting) saying I was going back to the tent to see if my battery (camcorder) was charged. He followed me in stitches as he could not understand what I was going to do!! What his imagination had imagined I don't know!
August 19th Monday
Off in the helicopter with Scott and two others who were above us???. We went 10 miles from the sea. We soon got two salmon (one fresh fish of 10 lbs) and were cock a hoop. But after that nothing happened. Scott had to make for cover several times as he had eaten something.
The heavens opened with a thunderstorm. Wind changed and casting was difficult. Scot's idea of using the boat was to get into the water and let one down stream. By 5 my back was shot with no chair so I lay down in the boat and Scot caught a fish! I missed one or two and got 4 in all. It seemed that was quite good. Mike got the same.
We talked with the two South Africans. Very nice and cheerful. I and the ghillie mended my camcorder. The South African told me the extra rod outside my test was left there by an admirer - an old Russian custom!
Had a talk with a Frenchman and agreed they had been as bad as us at mismanaging our fish stocks!
August 20th - Tuesday
POURING with rain - even the loo is a hazard. Now for the breakfast tent.
What a day! Went with Max (Russian boy) who was superb. We drove at great speed about 20 miles, fished from then till 6.15 with a short interval for lunch. Couldn't eat much. Got five salmon before lunch and three afterwards. Lay flat on my back in exhaustion while Max caught a 15 lb fresh fish and made me play it. Take camcorder pictures. I collapsed two or three times for 10 minutes while Max fished. He got another. Every time I said I was dead be saw another salmon and I sent for it. Got a big one at 6 and lost it after playing it up to the boat. Probably 12 or 14 lbs.
Raced back. Tired and very cold by now. Quick hair do and went to the dinner tent to give Mike the Vodka. Sat with the South Africans as usual - so nice - and Fred the Scientist. Max got my film on to tape and showed it but battery died so ??? Tomorrow. The guide of yesterday tells me I am top rod so far!! Walked down to the showers having been shown by them how to work them and got clean!! Out with another new guide tomorrow.
The French tent is very noisy while they drink their imported wind. Had a great talk with one last night - from Paris.
August 21st - Wednesday
Cold. Grey skies but not raining. Quite a gale all day. Went off in the helicopter with two Frenchmen and our ghillies - about 15 miles to Upper Tomba - where we parted with the French. Volodia? was my ghillie - with sufficient English to talk a bit but not too much.
Caught a fish on about my third cast! Went further up the river and got four fish before lunch - which we had in the tent. Volodia and I climbing the steep slope to the tent. Found the French in occupation. They offered me Pasties which I refused in the interests of safety! But drank a can and a half of Finnish beer and ate very little! Got four more fish after lunch. One I didn't get came four times to the strange silver and pale green fly (Christmas Tree).
Tried for a ninth by the Heli-pad but it was not to be. Two of the fish were 36" and must have been 15 lbs or more. The second big fish took itself to Vladevostock and back and was heavy going. Occasionally I had a rest and Volodia fished. He got three - one of which he insisted on landing (netting) himself after five false efforts.
Helicopter came at 6 and we were not ready. Very bitten round the wrists and ears. Mostly on the way to the loo or the dining tent. Food is superb - both the picnic and dinner.
When you land in a boat the little tractor dashes down and picks up your baggage and I get a ride back - same from the helicopter. Really good organisation.
Very good dinner - cheese (stilton etc.) soup, hot smoked salmon and salad. Beef steak (medium rare) excellent with potatoes, vanilla ice cream with torte and syrup (Canadian).
Fishing with big Iceland fellow tomorrow who gets out and pushes the t Just above the home beat. Hardly if it rains and blows.
Thunderstorms two days ago during lunch so no fear of carbon fibre rods.
Got 8 fish. Two of about 15-16 lbs. One went ??? And took all backing and some time to get in. No fresh fish today.
22nd August Thursday
Worst yet but enjoyed being with Scott. Tried everything - rose fish with yellow black and silver but they wouldn't hang on. Got two fish - one 9.30 a.m. - one 5.30 p.m.
They pounced on the fly and nibbled it two or three times but wouldn't take and when they did it was in the lip. Tried HARD and was totally exhausted by six and home. Took some pictures and talked to the Canadian Scientist. Mike got two - the American woman got 2 - her husband one. So a bad day. Much colder! ???? 22nd Temp of air 40 degrees.
Dinner with lecture from Fred - the Scientist which was interesting. Some 'fall' salmon over winter under the ice and do not spawn till the following fall. 18 months in the river and shall tell no more stories. My first was interrupted by King Crab Course and the second by the Scientist! Alas they will never hear the punch lines. No 'Interview' with Fred 'though we have talked a good deal (He has!) Not a listener. I can't remember the name of my Russian Guide who was very good.
23rd August Friday
Went in Helicopter after an interview with 'Fred' the scientist. Lost two fish and waited till 5.30 before I caught one. A good 11 lb fish (fresh) which was knocked on the head. Got three more in the next hour and no more reaction at all. Helicopter arrived and we ran up the river looking for seals. Saw 8 or 10 half way up. A very extensive programme is under way for the Ponoi. Fish, flora and fauna. ???? Past - where caught etc., tagged and reported.
They use 50 cc engines, the Russians forbid anything over 5 ccs after Aug 1st.
Very good dinner with Gravalax and salmon roe. Salmon dish and pork dish (all Russian) then good ice cream with maple syrup. Doug in great form and lots of photos taken with arms around.
We all sat in Nationalities. French table, American table, Brits and South Africans.
So my total is 31 which is BEST YET and was top score till the U.S. Got 20 today!! That was a leg pull! I am still top rod I think.
24th August Saturday
Woken at 5.15 this morning. Breakfast at 6. Fred has got my address for 'the article' and Ian has given me a letter to post in England. My luggage is in the portico ready for collection. All very sad.
Porros to Murmansk - Stopped in Helicopter to pick up two people and again to refuel. Nearly an hour there because of fog in Murmansk. Walked a long way in Murmansk and lots of officialdom, but no problems.
Sat alone on the plane and had a bed and good lunch. Gravalax and smoked salmon. It has gone round the staff that I caught 31 salmon. Fame at last.
In the camp the French stuck together and the Americans were suffering from our Enquire disease of thinking they were God Given. Not one of the American party ever come up to me to chat 'though of course in the course of things one did meet them on the river or drinking. The doctor who was disgusted that, as a smoker, I was fit enough at 84 to come fishing, last the course and catch fish. He was still shaking his head as we left the Kola Peninsula. His wife, an amiable lady, kissed me on both cheeks, in spite of hardly ever spoken, except when spoken to! Mary Alvenson, wife of American chef was utterly lovely to everyone. I suspect everyone thought they were special. What an art.
The ghillies were super. Scot the large blond American was indifferent the first time, but frequently had to stop the boat and dash for cover. The second time he was more amiable tho' I had my two worst days with him. Boris, the last day, said, very sadly 'oh Barbara' when I lost a fish. 'What did I do? I asked. 'You were holding the line against the rod.' So I tried to remember not to do it any more and NEVER to strike.
Mike, an enormous support on the way home also bought some cigarettes for me so I have 400. If I am met in a wheel chair I may never see him again. They do rush one through.
I left 200 cigarettes in Murmansk so need all the help I can get. Dick and Doug are somewhere in the plane - may seem them at Heathrow. Doug was great fun and good to me.
Incidents in her Life
Hong Kong 1939
We were in Wei-Hei-Wei with the Fleet when Jack's submarine was sent back to Hong Kong, so I went too. We had two weeks in a Hotel in Kowloon and he was sent to Singapore.
After a few days, alone in Hong Kong and knowing nobody I was profoundly bored. The heat was suffocating and my chief occupation was crossword puzzles and scratching mosquito bites. I moved to The Helena May Institute (a respectable hostel for working girls).
By this time I had met a few people and life had progressively become very social. The Fleet was returning from Wei-Hei-Wei and Jack was due back and I discovered I was having a baby. All in all we needed somewhere to live. Helen Fanshawe and Mhari Conran-Smith agreed to have a joint house, if we could find a really nice one.
The Japanese were ravishing through China and had got as far as North of Canton. Swarms of refugees were arriving in Hong Kong making accommodation difficult to find. We did find one - 186 Prince Edward Road. Very desirable. But there were strong indications that there would be a war with Germany. If that happened where should we all be? Chamberlain went to see Hitler and came home saying "Peace in our time". We eavesdropped someone's radio and heard the news and at 11 p.m. that night signed on the dotted line or 186 Prince Edward Road - where later, Jill was born.
Stewart Carter
Stewart Carter had a romantic and successful life, this one small piece of it at which I was present. He was Colonel of the Trucial Scouts in the desert country of the Trucial States, South of Dubai. Stewart was my age and his young wife was my daughter Jill's age.
He was about to retire and was to be given a Grand Farewell by Sheik Saga of Ras al-Khaimah. I was staying with Jill and Robin and Con (Jill's Godmother) and we went to the Grand Occasion.
The Sheik had a Palace - made of MUD. In front of it was a large space which was the parade ground.
When we arrived there was already a huge crowd in which we mingled. A large circle of 4 or 5 Land Rovers delineated the parade ground or arena. A Balnchi Band was playing familiar tunes such as Scotland the Brave. They only knew so much of each tune and when they got to the unfamiliar difficult bit, they broke off and started another tune.
Suddenly there was silence and from the direction of the Palace came three figures. The Sheik, Stewart and Celia.
Celia had a hawk on her wrist. Tears were streaming down Stewart's cheeks.
Sadly my memory stops there tho' I do remember driving through the crowds in a Land Rover on our may back to Robin and Jill's house.
Douglas Stein
Douglas Stein was a vague relation (there were others). He came to England most years on holiday from Mauritius and being mad on the theatre, went to one every day. He stayed with us (the Gordons) - re-met my mother and asked her to marry him. She refused him, tho' she liked him he had a terrible temper!
Years later, returning to Mauritius he met a woman of about his age on the boat. They got on well and the day before they arrived he proposed to her. She accepted him and told him that just before they sailed she had heard that she had inherited a very large sum of money.
When I was 16 they asked me to stay. They had a small flat and put me up in a very smart hotel. We went to the theatre every evening, dining out first and we did something like the Military Tattoo every afternoon. Phew, what a week. I only had one (home made) evening dress. We saw a sad war film and Douglas cried all through! I managed not to.
Hong Kong
When in Hong Kong (Jack, or course, at sea), I decided to hitch a lift to Canton in a naval river boat. The boat (not me) was met by the Vice Consul. He politely asked me where I was going to stay. I said I would find a Hotel. He was horrified, said I could not go into the town, but must stay in the British Concession. The town was bombed nightly by the Japanese. The Japs usually missed the British Concession, but there had been the odd incident. He said I had better stay with him and his wife.
His wife was just about to have a baby and was quite obviously not pleased. 'Did I play bridge?' I said 'no' and realised I was beyond the pale. Next day I met someone I knew and they asked me to stay. I bade my hostess good-bye and she apologised for her bad manners.
We found out later that she was a relation of the Kershaws.
Wei-Hei-Wei
Wei-Hei-Wei was a wonderful little island on the North East coast of China. For two or three months the British Fleet, based in Hong Kong, moved up there for a bit of summer heat relief. We all had quarters rather like rows of horse boxes - a bedroom and a verandah, a thunder box at the back. As you passed along the hotel you met everyone sitting on their verandahs. We were asked 'for a drink' that evening by a couple. What time should we go - we wondered. Six o'clock in England? Six-thirty? Was seven too late? We decided on 6.45. There was no one at home. We went away and watched their verandah from afar, saw nobody. We sauntered in that direction at 7.30 and at that moment they arrived in a small yacht, put it away and wandered up the beach and greeted us and went into their bedroom to change. We started our drink just before eight. It was a short sharp shock which taught us the ways of Wei-Hei-Wei!
Hunting
My Uncle was a Hunting Shooting and Fishing man. He would have liked me to hunt but I had never been near a horse and when put on a ??? Up hunter was very insecure. Though I rode a lot (and got a bit safer) I did not feel brave enough to Hunt. This brought barely disguised scorn from the hunting crowd. One day I was with the Uncle visiting hunting friends. We were standing round a horse, brought out of his stable by a groom. It was badly lame and a great discussion went on as the why. No one knew. I shocked and surprised the assembled horsey experts by saying, "perhaps its NAVICULA". It was. I can't think how I knew that!
Lantau
After Jill's birth in Hong Kong I felt pretty rough and got boils and it was terribly hot. I had a wonderful Shanghai baby Amah and she urged me to get away to Lantau. Lantau was a small island, one of many near Hong Kong and was really just a mountain in the sea. I went to Lantau by sampan and was carried up the mountain by two men, in a chair. At the top was a colony of American Missionaries. Out meals were silent, except for the occasional missionary who was Moved to speak. Some of their children, from America, were there. They were quite unlike their parents, modern, loud and roistering. Such a contrast.
However, it cured me and I hurried back to Hong Kong and civilisation as I knew it!
London
When I was eight or nine I stayed with Uncle Bos and Aunt Patty at no 56 Evelyn Gardens and went to school at Roland Gardens. They then went to the country and I became a border. Their great friends, the vicar of St Peter's Church, Cranleigh Gardens, invited me every Sunday to spend the day. (I walked over and back by myself in those days!)
I went to the morning service where Mr. Woodward often made children take part. One day I had to read the Lesson. I was terrified. It was the worst ordeal I have ever suffered. A big London Church, full, in those days, what could be more agonising?
Then there was the Children's service in the afternoon, again well attended. One Sunday I sat with Prudence Maxwell-Light and we got the giggles. Mr. Woodward was marching up and down the aisle and spotted me. "Barbara Massey - Stand up". My giggles soon subsided. He was rather a fierce priest and later, when my Mother died, he became our guardian (with Uncle Bos).
Passages to and from Hong Kong
I travelled out to Hong Kong in 1938 in the SCHARNHORST, a German Merchant Cruiser - the only passage I could get. War was imminent and Jack said his Submarine would have had to sink the Scharnhorst if war had been declared. War was declared two months later.
Two years and one baby later, Jack was sent back to the Mediterranean at four days notice. I had to pack up, sack the servants and book a passage in a great hurry. The only passage I could get (to San Francisco) was in a Japanese ship - the 'ASAMA MARU'. We were at war with the Japs two months later! From San Francisco to New York to Liverpool is another story which I am sure I have told elsewhere.
School
I did a remarkably successful drawing of our history mistress (Miss Elliot) at school. She was clever and amusing and I liked her very much but she was no beauty! My picture was a charicature. By it I wrote some remark she had made to me. Others, at intervals added quotations. It really had to be hidden so we took St Andrew apart and put her underneath him and replaced his picture.
Several years later (45?) I went with some people I met abroad to the Centenary Celebration. Imagine my horror when I saw my picture shown on the mantle piece! I wonder how long it had been there and where St Andrew had got to.
I was very bored during one of her history lessons (History was not, is not, one of my interests). Miss Elliot looked at me piercingly and said "Barbara, I wonder if you are as stupid as you look!"
I often wondered, at school, why a dull old (60?) Mistress never had any problems with keeping order in her French classes. Another (young) chemistry mistress who was great fun and very clever usually had chaos and mayhem - broken test tubes and spilt acid etc!
Our Headmistress, Miss Ghey, was Madonna like. She wore gowns, had large blue eyes and a holy smile. I could not stand her!
Fishing
At Soval Lodge, in the Outer Hebrides - I walked down to a close small lock to fill in an hour before dinner. I saw the most extraordinary sight. I think every fish in the loch was rising, including some as big as four pounds. I had no idea there were fish that size in the little loch. I could not catch one, whatever fly I put on. In the 20 minutes this lasted I tried all the flies I could think of. Then it stopped. The water was dead.
At that moment, Malcolm Ring, my young host arrived back from a loch about 3 miles away. His eyes were sparkling. "You'll never believe what I have just seen - every fish in the loch was rising. The loch was boiling with them". He had not caught one either.
I was told later that another fisherman at another time and another loch had seen the same thing, several years before and had caught one wish with a tiny bare hook!
War memories
During the war Jack was stationed, in his submarine at several of the ports in Scotland, out for ten days and I would go to Northumberland to stay and then find 'ROOMS' for the next 10 days when he was in port. One lot of rooms we had, sitting room and bedroom, all inclusive. We were fed and rooms cleaned and beds made etc.
We had a double bed, which was uncomfortable and lumpy in the middle. After a bit I complained to the land lady. "Oh dear - I wish you hadn't told me. I do not want my son to know. I have hidden his Twelve Bore under your mattress."
During the war again, Jack was at Barrow-in-Furness. I went too. I had a letter from Sir Charles Craven of Vicars Armstrong asking me to launch a submarine (P33). In war time they could not publicise the launching, or ask a Royal to launch one, so occasionally a Naval wife was asked. I left Jill with our Landlady (I could not tell her where I was going) and put on a fur coat to hide the fact that Adria was due to be born in 2 months and got on a bus for the Dockyard.
The launching went well, the Commonwealth Wine (it was wartime) smashed nicely against the Submarine and she moved slowly down the ramp into the River Clyde.
We all went to a splendid drinks party and I was presented with a beautiful ivory cigarette box. I was thrilled and said so to Sir Charles. "Don't be silly", he said. "The present is inside the box". It was a Diamond double clip Brooch! He apologised for the smallness of the gifts saying:- "It is wartime you know!. I was given an enormous bouquet of flowers and sent back to my lodgings in a Rolls. My landlady was very surprised.
In Barrow-in-Furness I occasionally walked down into the town pushing Jill in her pram. I went to a butcher and produced my "Traveller's Ration Book". "We don't serve travellers" he said. "But you MUST" I retorted. "No I won't". "I shall report you to the food controller". "All right." He said. "There is his office opposite here". So I went and joined a long queue, which moved extremely slowly.
Then a strange thing (for me!) happened. I burst into tears. I believe one is apt to when having a baby. I took myself off and walked to the Bridge, across it and back, by which time I was back in control. I went back to join the queue. It had gone. It was lunch time and the door was shut. I knocked and himself came to the door. He explained that it was lunch time. To my horror the tears started to flow again.
"Oh you poor darling" he said. "Come in and sit down and have a sandwich. Take your time, I have half an hour for lunch".
When I told him about the butcher he said "I will inform the butchers they must sell you meat. You can have as much as you like, but do stop crying!"
When Jack came back that evening I told him the story, tears again.
Jack decided and I agreed, we should move away from horrid Barrow-in-Furness. We drove about to 10 miles to a village pub and asked if they knew of any rooms or a cottage. Yes, they did. The owners were going South. We went to the cottage, agreed a rent and moved in the next day.
In the course of time the butcher called. I ordered a small bit of meat and gave him my name. "Mrs Kershaw" is it" he said. "We have been told to let you have as much meat as you like". Alas, I had to tell him I could not afford to have as much as I wanted!
Fishy Thoughts
I think it is extraordinary that fish can be 6ozs or 20 lb to 30 lb at maturity. The only animal in the world that is so affected by its food.
Oops
Hugh, Peter and I were going upstairs giggling and pushing each other. Mrs Woodward emerged from Aunt Patty's bedroom and said Be quiet! Your Mother has just died".
We went on to our sitting room. Hugh, aged 13, was crying. Peter and I put on a Gilbert and Sullivan record that my mother had given us. Mrs Woodward appeared again to tell us to take it off.
Mrs Woodward told me the facts of life, or at least the monthly facts of life. She told it so badly that I didn't believe her and hated her for telling me!
In my childhood, at the Old Rectory, the Uncle got a Golden Labrador. He used to go out with the horses - an 8 mile trek. One day, out with the horses, he dropped down dead. A heart attack.
By Royal Appointment
In my sixties I was asked to engrave some glass for Princess Anne. She was to 'Plant a tree' by Tetley Church.
I got a glass tray, about 12" across and engraved a picture of the Church. I was invited to the Presentation. Both the Princess and Mark Phillips were very nice about the tray. I wonder where it is now! In the Cellar? Sold by the butler?
The Old Rectory, Eversholt
The Old Rectory was a charming house with about 2 acres of garden and a stable yard. This was built when the Masters of Horse lived there. It had six roomy stables. Two garages, a tack room with loft above and Uncle Bos's WORKSHOP and a mounting store in the middle.
My Brothers and I found a RHEA's egg. We tried to blow it but nothing happened. We sawed it in half (using the mounting store as a table). It was solid and smelt terrible. One Rheas's egg, scrambled would be enough for 5 people.
At the Old Rectory we had the velvet from a stags antlers , on toast, as a savoury. We also had, for lunch, bison roast. The 'maids' were not told what it was or they would not have eaten it. Later they agreed it was excellent. Redder and stronger than beef.
Eight sailors came to our wedding at Eversholt. They were to pull the car from the church back to the Old Rectory. What they had not realised was that it was half a mile! Some of them were not as fit as they might have been and were very tired and hot!
My brother Hugh was going to drive me to church but a few days before the wedding we discovered he had carried a load of loose coal in the back of the car! The Uncle ordered a Rolls!
Jill's wedding
Before Jill's wedding we had two disasters. Her wedding dress was laid out on the dining room table. Someone, somehow spilt a great splash of ink on it. We rang the best cleaner we knew about in LONDON and got the dress back next day by train and car, just in time for the wedding.
Teresa, Jill's great friend, took our car down to the village on some necessary errand and managed to hit another car! It was INCONVENIENT, to say the least!
There were two sets of invitations to Jill's wedding, the expensive engraved? ones for Robin's relations and the plain printed ones. The engraved ones had ink spilt on them in the post office and had to be replaced.
Koko
When living with the Aunt, after Uncle Bos died, we had a dog, a Shih Tsu. Next door, a large garden away, lived the Rector. His son had given him a Jack Russel puppy to replace a much loved dog who had died. The Jack Russel, when grown up, was a devil and had killed two dogs in the village. I suggested that we should engineer a meeting between our two dogs who might well meet in the future to see if they got on. The Rector waited until his son was staying and they visited us with the dog.
Within a split second Koko was on his back and the Jack Russel at his throat! They had to keep their dog on a lead after that, even for his evening pennyworth!
Freedom at 67 and fishing
At 67 I was suddenly free. My husband had died, my much loved Aunt had died at 98, my daughters were married and happy and producing grandchildren. And ... I had some money for the first time in my life. We were playing bridge, when Tony, a new acquaintance said "I am going to Norway to salmon fish in July, why don't you come too?" "Good idea" I said enthusiastically.
We went to Norway. It was a success, so we arranged other visits. After that we went to Patagonia on the most wonderful trip, fishing in five different places (and had many adventures). Next we went to British Colombia two years running. Each time doing five different expeditions. One of them we were flown to the mainland until we found a river, then descended, got out our rods and fished! Nearby our pilot stood with a gun to protect us from grizzly bears. In the evening we flew back to our lagoon to a superb dinner (with 8 American truckers).
By this time Tony was 82 years old and I was 81.
We went to Russia to the Kola Peninsula - on the Arctic Circle, where we camped (splendidly), 220 miles East of Murmansk. There we fished the best salmon river in the world which had hardly been disturbed by mankind for millions of years. Here we wished from 9 a.m. To 6 or 7 p.m. We did this for four years running. It was absolutely stunning. Tony was absent one year having a new hip so another friend came with me. One day while we were out in the boat this friend said, "If my wife had dared to catch more fish than me, I should have been very upset". As it happens I had caught more fish than him so he ungraciously had to put up with me doing so.
At 86 years old Tony had to give in. Alas I could not face Russia on my own. After that I went to the Outer Hebrides with a Grandson and then to various places in Scotland with a Brigadier of 89. I am now 90 and have had only one day's fishing with another Grandson. C'est La Vie!
I am grounded and can only play bridge two or three times a week, paint and write and sew and enjoy daughters and grandchildren and great grandchildren.
Childhood memories again
I embarrassed my mother, as a very small child, as I kept on mentioning my Black Sister. She was, of course, completely imaginary, but my constant companion.
Aunt Patty must have been quite sure that I had something wrong with me, so I got sent to the Doctor quite a lot.
We had an appointment with a French Doctor a The French Hospital. All was well. At the end he made me walk along a chalk line with my arms outstretched. I managed this, with a little difficulty. Afterwards he said, with emphasis, "Nobody is going to hypnotise YOU!"
Years later I went to a Hypnotist to try to stop smoking. After about ¾ of an hour it was over. I co-operated as hard as I could but felt nothing had happened, which I told him. "Go away and think about it" he said. So I did! I could only think of the next cigarette, endlessly! Next day I gave in and have smoked ever since.
Fishing in the outer Hebrides
A ghillie was taking me on LANGAVAT, a nine mile loch in the Outer Hebrides. I said, "I want to catch a salmon, AND see a Golden Eagle". Both were unusual as in this huge loch few people could find the salmon and after 25 years of going to the Hebrides I had not, knowingly, seen a Golden Eagle.
After an hour or two, no salmon. Suddenly the ghillie took off at a great rate across the loch. My fly was in the water and I felt a sudden 'take'. I called for Duncan to slow down. He took no notice until we got to the far side and he pointed to a large rock ahead on which sat a Golden Eagle! I pulled in my line and showed him a very dead salmon I had on!
McFee took me on a small lock and we caught a lot of small trout. He stopped rowing and pointed to the top of a small mountain. "There are Golden Eagles and they have two young ones. Come on, we will climb up to see them closer." I was wearing body waders and could not face the climb. Up he went and came down very excited. There were two well grown little Golden Eagles and the parents flying agitatedly above. He PULLED my up and it was great to see the nest and the babies and the parents longing to dive on us but just not daring.
It turned out that it was not a Golden Eagle but a ???. McFee had spent all his life on Lewes but had got it wrong.
Uncle Bos and I had lunch sitting on a bank by an arm of Loch Yaltos. When we finally stood up an enormous Merganzer flew, through my legs and escaped!
McFee senior said I must cast three times a minute in Loch Valtos (salmon).
Some of the people mentioned
Jack - John Bertram de Betham Kershaw DSO RN, Barbara's husband
Uncle Bos - Colonel Evelyn Boscowen Gordon - 5th Fusiliers
Aunt Patty - Martha Gordon, nee Martha Wheldon
We were in Wei-Hei-Wei with the Fleet when Jack's submarine was sent back to Hong Kong, so I went too. We had two weeks in a Hotel in Kowloon and he was sent to Singapore.
After a few days, alone in Hong Kong and knowing nobody I was profoundly bored. The heat was suffocating and my chief occupation was crossword puzzles and scratching mosquito bites. I moved to The Helena May Institute (a respectable hostel for working girls).
By this time I had met a few people and life had progressively become very social. The Fleet was returning from Wei-Hei-Wei and Jack was due back and I discovered I was having a baby. All in all we needed somewhere to live. Helen Fanshawe and Mhari Conran-Smith agreed to have a joint house, if we could find a really nice one.
The Japanese were ravishing through China and had got as far as North of Canton. Swarms of refugees were arriving in Hong Kong making accommodation difficult to find. We did find one - 186 Prince Edward Road. Very desirable. But there were strong indications that there would be a war with Germany. If that happened where should we all be? Chamberlain went to see Hitler and came home saying "Peace in our time". We eavesdropped someone's radio and heard the news and at 11 p.m. that night signed on the dotted line or 186 Prince Edward Road - where later, Jill was born.
Stewart Carter
Stewart Carter had a romantic and successful life, this one small piece of it at which I was present. He was Colonel of the Trucial Scouts in the desert country of the Trucial States, South of Dubai. Stewart was my age and his young wife was my daughter Jill's age.
He was about to retire and was to be given a Grand Farewell by Sheik Saga of Ras al-Khaimah. I was staying with Jill and Robin and Con (Jill's Godmother) and we went to the Grand Occasion.
The Sheik had a Palace - made of MUD. In front of it was a large space which was the parade ground.
When we arrived there was already a huge crowd in which we mingled. A large circle of 4 or 5 Land Rovers delineated the parade ground or arena. A Balnchi Band was playing familiar tunes such as Scotland the Brave. They only knew so much of each tune and when they got to the unfamiliar difficult bit, they broke off and started another tune.
Suddenly there was silence and from the direction of the Palace came three figures. The Sheik, Stewart and Celia.
Celia had a hawk on her wrist. Tears were streaming down Stewart's cheeks.
Sadly my memory stops there tho' I do remember driving through the crowds in a Land Rover on our may back to Robin and Jill's house.
Douglas Stein
Douglas Stein was a vague relation (there were others). He came to England most years on holiday from Mauritius and being mad on the theatre, went to one every day. He stayed with us (the Gordons) - re-met my mother and asked her to marry him. She refused him, tho' she liked him he had a terrible temper!
Years later, returning to Mauritius he met a woman of about his age on the boat. They got on well and the day before they arrived he proposed to her. She accepted him and told him that just before they sailed she had heard that she had inherited a very large sum of money.
When I was 16 they asked me to stay. They had a small flat and put me up in a very smart hotel. We went to the theatre every evening, dining out first and we did something like the Military Tattoo every afternoon. Phew, what a week. I only had one (home made) evening dress. We saw a sad war film and Douglas cried all through! I managed not to.
Hong Kong
When in Hong Kong (Jack, or course, at sea), I decided to hitch a lift to Canton in a naval river boat. The boat (not me) was met by the Vice Consul. He politely asked me where I was going to stay. I said I would find a Hotel. He was horrified, said I could not go into the town, but must stay in the British Concession. The town was bombed nightly by the Japanese. The Japs usually missed the British Concession, but there had been the odd incident. He said I had better stay with him and his wife.
His wife was just about to have a baby and was quite obviously not pleased. 'Did I play bridge?' I said 'no' and realised I was beyond the pale. Next day I met someone I knew and they asked me to stay. I bade my hostess good-bye and she apologised for her bad manners.
We found out later that she was a relation of the Kershaws.
Wei-Hei-Wei
Wei-Hei-Wei was a wonderful little island on the North East coast of China. For two or three months the British Fleet, based in Hong Kong, moved up there for a bit of summer heat relief. We all had quarters rather like rows of horse boxes - a bedroom and a verandah, a thunder box at the back. As you passed along the hotel you met everyone sitting on their verandahs. We were asked 'for a drink' that evening by a couple. What time should we go - we wondered. Six o'clock in England? Six-thirty? Was seven too late? We decided on 6.45. There was no one at home. We went away and watched their verandah from afar, saw nobody. We sauntered in that direction at 7.30 and at that moment they arrived in a small yacht, put it away and wandered up the beach and greeted us and went into their bedroom to change. We started our drink just before eight. It was a short sharp shock which taught us the ways of Wei-Hei-Wei!
Hunting
My Uncle was a Hunting Shooting and Fishing man. He would have liked me to hunt but I had never been near a horse and when put on a ??? Up hunter was very insecure. Though I rode a lot (and got a bit safer) I did not feel brave enough to Hunt. This brought barely disguised scorn from the hunting crowd. One day I was with the Uncle visiting hunting friends. We were standing round a horse, brought out of his stable by a groom. It was badly lame and a great discussion went on as the why. No one knew. I shocked and surprised the assembled horsey experts by saying, "perhaps its NAVICULA". It was. I can't think how I knew that!
Lantau
After Jill's birth in Hong Kong I felt pretty rough and got boils and it was terribly hot. I had a wonderful Shanghai baby Amah and she urged me to get away to Lantau. Lantau was a small island, one of many near Hong Kong and was really just a mountain in the sea. I went to Lantau by sampan and was carried up the mountain by two men, in a chair. At the top was a colony of American Missionaries. Out meals were silent, except for the occasional missionary who was Moved to speak. Some of their children, from America, were there. They were quite unlike their parents, modern, loud and roistering. Such a contrast.
However, it cured me and I hurried back to Hong Kong and civilisation as I knew it!
London
When I was eight or nine I stayed with Uncle Bos and Aunt Patty at no 56 Evelyn Gardens and went to school at Roland Gardens. They then went to the country and I became a border. Their great friends, the vicar of St Peter's Church, Cranleigh Gardens, invited me every Sunday to spend the day. (I walked over and back by myself in those days!)
I went to the morning service where Mr. Woodward often made children take part. One day I had to read the Lesson. I was terrified. It was the worst ordeal I have ever suffered. A big London Church, full, in those days, what could be more agonising?
Then there was the Children's service in the afternoon, again well attended. One Sunday I sat with Prudence Maxwell-Light and we got the giggles. Mr. Woodward was marching up and down the aisle and spotted me. "Barbara Massey - Stand up". My giggles soon subsided. He was rather a fierce priest and later, when my Mother died, he became our guardian (with Uncle Bos).
Passages to and from Hong Kong
I travelled out to Hong Kong in 1938 in the SCHARNHORST, a German Merchant Cruiser - the only passage I could get. War was imminent and Jack said his Submarine would have had to sink the Scharnhorst if war had been declared. War was declared two months later.
Two years and one baby later, Jack was sent back to the Mediterranean at four days notice. I had to pack up, sack the servants and book a passage in a great hurry. The only passage I could get (to San Francisco) was in a Japanese ship - the 'ASAMA MARU'. We were at war with the Japs two months later! From San Francisco to New York to Liverpool is another story which I am sure I have told elsewhere.
School
I did a remarkably successful drawing of our history mistress (Miss Elliot) at school. She was clever and amusing and I liked her very much but she was no beauty! My picture was a charicature. By it I wrote some remark she had made to me. Others, at intervals added quotations. It really had to be hidden so we took St Andrew apart and put her underneath him and replaced his picture.
Several years later (45?) I went with some people I met abroad to the Centenary Celebration. Imagine my horror when I saw my picture shown on the mantle piece! I wonder how long it had been there and where St Andrew had got to.
I was very bored during one of her history lessons (History was not, is not, one of my interests). Miss Elliot looked at me piercingly and said "Barbara, I wonder if you are as stupid as you look!"
I often wondered, at school, why a dull old (60?) Mistress never had any problems with keeping order in her French classes. Another (young) chemistry mistress who was great fun and very clever usually had chaos and mayhem - broken test tubes and spilt acid etc!
Our Headmistress, Miss Ghey, was Madonna like. She wore gowns, had large blue eyes and a holy smile. I could not stand her!
Fishing
At Soval Lodge, in the Outer Hebrides - I walked down to a close small lock to fill in an hour before dinner. I saw the most extraordinary sight. I think every fish in the loch was rising, including some as big as four pounds. I had no idea there were fish that size in the little loch. I could not catch one, whatever fly I put on. In the 20 minutes this lasted I tried all the flies I could think of. Then it stopped. The water was dead.
At that moment, Malcolm Ring, my young host arrived back from a loch about 3 miles away. His eyes were sparkling. "You'll never believe what I have just seen - every fish in the loch was rising. The loch was boiling with them". He had not caught one either.
I was told later that another fisherman at another time and another loch had seen the same thing, several years before and had caught one wish with a tiny bare hook!
War memories
During the war Jack was stationed, in his submarine at several of the ports in Scotland, out for ten days and I would go to Northumberland to stay and then find 'ROOMS' for the next 10 days when he was in port. One lot of rooms we had, sitting room and bedroom, all inclusive. We were fed and rooms cleaned and beds made etc.
We had a double bed, which was uncomfortable and lumpy in the middle. After a bit I complained to the land lady. "Oh dear - I wish you hadn't told me. I do not want my son to know. I have hidden his Twelve Bore under your mattress."
During the war again, Jack was at Barrow-in-Furness. I went too. I had a letter from Sir Charles Craven of Vicars Armstrong asking me to launch a submarine (P33). In war time they could not publicise the launching, or ask a Royal to launch one, so occasionally a Naval wife was asked. I left Jill with our Landlady (I could not tell her where I was going) and put on a fur coat to hide the fact that Adria was due to be born in 2 months and got on a bus for the Dockyard.
The launching went well, the Commonwealth Wine (it was wartime) smashed nicely against the Submarine and she moved slowly down the ramp into the River Clyde.
We all went to a splendid drinks party and I was presented with a beautiful ivory cigarette box. I was thrilled and said so to Sir Charles. "Don't be silly", he said. "The present is inside the box". It was a Diamond double clip Brooch! He apologised for the smallness of the gifts saying:- "It is wartime you know!. I was given an enormous bouquet of flowers and sent back to my lodgings in a Rolls. My landlady was very surprised.
In Barrow-in-Furness I occasionally walked down into the town pushing Jill in her pram. I went to a butcher and produced my "Traveller's Ration Book". "We don't serve travellers" he said. "But you MUST" I retorted. "No I won't". "I shall report you to the food controller". "All right." He said. "There is his office opposite here". So I went and joined a long queue, which moved extremely slowly.
Then a strange thing (for me!) happened. I burst into tears. I believe one is apt to when having a baby. I took myself off and walked to the Bridge, across it and back, by which time I was back in control. I went back to join the queue. It had gone. It was lunch time and the door was shut. I knocked and himself came to the door. He explained that it was lunch time. To my horror the tears started to flow again.
"Oh you poor darling" he said. "Come in and sit down and have a sandwich. Take your time, I have half an hour for lunch".
When I told him about the butcher he said "I will inform the butchers they must sell you meat. You can have as much as you like, but do stop crying!"
When Jack came back that evening I told him the story, tears again.
Jack decided and I agreed, we should move away from horrid Barrow-in-Furness. We drove about to 10 miles to a village pub and asked if they knew of any rooms or a cottage. Yes, they did. The owners were going South. We went to the cottage, agreed a rent and moved in the next day.
In the course of time the butcher called. I ordered a small bit of meat and gave him my name. "Mrs Kershaw" is it" he said. "We have been told to let you have as much meat as you like". Alas, I had to tell him I could not afford to have as much as I wanted!
Fishy Thoughts
I think it is extraordinary that fish can be 6ozs or 20 lb to 30 lb at maturity. The only animal in the world that is so affected by its food.
Oops
Hugh, Peter and I were going upstairs giggling and pushing each other. Mrs Woodward emerged from Aunt Patty's bedroom and said Be quiet! Your Mother has just died".
We went on to our sitting room. Hugh, aged 13, was crying. Peter and I put on a Gilbert and Sullivan record that my mother had given us. Mrs Woodward appeared again to tell us to take it off.
Mrs Woodward told me the facts of life, or at least the monthly facts of life. She told it so badly that I didn't believe her and hated her for telling me!
In my childhood, at the Old Rectory, the Uncle got a Golden Labrador. He used to go out with the horses - an 8 mile trek. One day, out with the horses, he dropped down dead. A heart attack.
By Royal Appointment
In my sixties I was asked to engrave some glass for Princess Anne. She was to 'Plant a tree' by Tetley Church.
I got a glass tray, about 12" across and engraved a picture of the Church. I was invited to the Presentation. Both the Princess and Mark Phillips were very nice about the tray. I wonder where it is now! In the Cellar? Sold by the butler?
The Old Rectory, Eversholt
The Old Rectory was a charming house with about 2 acres of garden and a stable yard. This was built when the Masters of Horse lived there. It had six roomy stables. Two garages, a tack room with loft above and Uncle Bos's WORKSHOP and a mounting store in the middle.
My Brothers and I found a RHEA's egg. We tried to blow it but nothing happened. We sawed it in half (using the mounting store as a table). It was solid and smelt terrible. One Rheas's egg, scrambled would be enough for 5 people.
At the Old Rectory we had the velvet from a stags antlers , on toast, as a savoury. We also had, for lunch, bison roast. The 'maids' were not told what it was or they would not have eaten it. Later they agreed it was excellent. Redder and stronger than beef.
Eight sailors came to our wedding at Eversholt. They were to pull the car from the church back to the Old Rectory. What they had not realised was that it was half a mile! Some of them were not as fit as they might have been and were very tired and hot!
My brother Hugh was going to drive me to church but a few days before the wedding we discovered he had carried a load of loose coal in the back of the car! The Uncle ordered a Rolls!
Jill's wedding
Before Jill's wedding we had two disasters. Her wedding dress was laid out on the dining room table. Someone, somehow spilt a great splash of ink on it. We rang the best cleaner we knew about in LONDON and got the dress back next day by train and car, just in time for the wedding.
Teresa, Jill's great friend, took our car down to the village on some necessary errand and managed to hit another car! It was INCONVENIENT, to say the least!
There were two sets of invitations to Jill's wedding, the expensive engraved? ones for Robin's relations and the plain printed ones. The engraved ones had ink spilt on them in the post office and had to be replaced.
Koko
When living with the Aunt, after Uncle Bos died, we had a dog, a Shih Tsu. Next door, a large garden away, lived the Rector. His son had given him a Jack Russel puppy to replace a much loved dog who had died. The Jack Russel, when grown up, was a devil and had killed two dogs in the village. I suggested that we should engineer a meeting between our two dogs who might well meet in the future to see if they got on. The Rector waited until his son was staying and they visited us with the dog.
Within a split second Koko was on his back and the Jack Russel at his throat! They had to keep their dog on a lead after that, even for his evening pennyworth!
Freedom at 67 and fishing
At 67 I was suddenly free. My husband had died, my much loved Aunt had died at 98, my daughters were married and happy and producing grandchildren. And ... I had some money for the first time in my life. We were playing bridge, when Tony, a new acquaintance said "I am going to Norway to salmon fish in July, why don't you come too?" "Good idea" I said enthusiastically.
We went to Norway. It was a success, so we arranged other visits. After that we went to Patagonia on the most wonderful trip, fishing in five different places (and had many adventures). Next we went to British Colombia two years running. Each time doing five different expeditions. One of them we were flown to the mainland until we found a river, then descended, got out our rods and fished! Nearby our pilot stood with a gun to protect us from grizzly bears. In the evening we flew back to our lagoon to a superb dinner (with 8 American truckers).
By this time Tony was 82 years old and I was 81.
We went to Russia to the Kola Peninsula - on the Arctic Circle, where we camped (splendidly), 220 miles East of Murmansk. There we fished the best salmon river in the world which had hardly been disturbed by mankind for millions of years. Here we wished from 9 a.m. To 6 or 7 p.m. We did this for four years running. It was absolutely stunning. Tony was absent one year having a new hip so another friend came with me. One day while we were out in the boat this friend said, "If my wife had dared to catch more fish than me, I should have been very upset". As it happens I had caught more fish than him so he ungraciously had to put up with me doing so.
At 86 years old Tony had to give in. Alas I could not face Russia on my own. After that I went to the Outer Hebrides with a Grandson and then to various places in Scotland with a Brigadier of 89. I am now 90 and have had only one day's fishing with another Grandson. C'est La Vie!
I am grounded and can only play bridge two or three times a week, paint and write and sew and enjoy daughters and grandchildren and great grandchildren.
Childhood memories again
I embarrassed my mother, as a very small child, as I kept on mentioning my Black Sister. She was, of course, completely imaginary, but my constant companion.
Aunt Patty must have been quite sure that I had something wrong with me, so I got sent to the Doctor quite a lot.
We had an appointment with a French Doctor a The French Hospital. All was well. At the end he made me walk along a chalk line with my arms outstretched. I managed this, with a little difficulty. Afterwards he said, with emphasis, "Nobody is going to hypnotise YOU!"
Years later I went to a Hypnotist to try to stop smoking. After about ¾ of an hour it was over. I co-operated as hard as I could but felt nothing had happened, which I told him. "Go away and think about it" he said. So I did! I could only think of the next cigarette, endlessly! Next day I gave in and have smoked ever since.
Fishing in the outer Hebrides
A ghillie was taking me on LANGAVAT, a nine mile loch in the Outer Hebrides. I said, "I want to catch a salmon, AND see a Golden Eagle". Both were unusual as in this huge loch few people could find the salmon and after 25 years of going to the Hebrides I had not, knowingly, seen a Golden Eagle.
After an hour or two, no salmon. Suddenly the ghillie took off at a great rate across the loch. My fly was in the water and I felt a sudden 'take'. I called for Duncan to slow down. He took no notice until we got to the far side and he pointed to a large rock ahead on which sat a Golden Eagle! I pulled in my line and showed him a very dead salmon I had on!
McFee took me on a small lock and we caught a lot of small trout. He stopped rowing and pointed to the top of a small mountain. "There are Golden Eagles and they have two young ones. Come on, we will climb up to see them closer." I was wearing body waders and could not face the climb. Up he went and came down very excited. There were two well grown little Golden Eagles and the parents flying agitatedly above. He PULLED my up and it was great to see the nest and the babies and the parents longing to dive on us but just not daring.
It turned out that it was not a Golden Eagle but a ???. McFee had spent all his life on Lewes but had got it wrong.
Uncle Bos and I had lunch sitting on a bank by an arm of Loch Yaltos. When we finally stood up an enormous Merganzer flew, through my legs and escaped!
McFee senior said I must cast three times a minute in Loch Valtos (salmon).
Some of the people mentioned
Jack - John Bertram de Betham Kershaw DSO RN, Barbara's husband
Uncle Bos - Colonel Evelyn Boscowen Gordon - 5th Fusiliers
Aunt Patty - Martha Gordon, nee Martha Wheldon
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