You shall have a fishy … but for how much longer?

Dance ti' thy daddy, sing ti' thy mammy,
Dance ti' thy daddy, ti' thy mammy sing;
Thou shall hev a fishy on a little dishy,
Thou shall hev a fishy when the boat comes in.


For some, a favourite meal is a plate of delicious, golden-battered haddock accompanied by a pile of hot, crispy chips.  For others it’s a mouth-watering prawn cocktail, artistically presented.  It might even be a sophisticated sea bass with saffron sauce.  Whatever your seafood preference – Harry Ramsden or Rick Stein – there would be no choice at all if it was not for the  hardy individuals who battle the elements and risk life and limb to catch and bring back to shore the harvest of the ocean.

Through war and peace, good times and bad, fishermen have put to sea and braved the elements to earn their living.  For countless generations fishing has been a way of life with sons following in the footsteps of fathers and grandfathers.  But, due to diminishing fish stocks, government and EU regulation, and the increasingly high cost of fuel, it is becoming more and more difficult for fishermen to make a living from a way of life that has been handed down through the generations.

Before a way of life disappears completely and the memories are lost forever, four of our authors took the time to visit their local fishing communities and talk to the fishermen who struggle, day-in day-out, to keep their heritage alive.

Using first-hand accounts and a fascinating collection of old and contemporary photographs Sheila Bird, Ian Robb, Ron Freethy and Bernard Bale tell the stories of four fishing communities: Cornwall, East Anglia, Lancashire and Lincolnshire, recording the memories of local fishermen and their families; the conditions, the work, the people and their humour.

I've put together some short extracts from each of the books.  They make fascinating reading and I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.

I have certainly learned a great deal about the fishermen of Britain and my admiration for the work they do under the most extreme circumstances is boundless.

Let’s hear it for the folk past and present who are the very life of the fishing industry.  To each and every one of them from skipper to lumper and from owner to apprentice and their families – Thank You.

Happy reading,

Deb

MEMORIES OF THE CORNISH FISHING INDUSTRY by Sheila Bird

http://www.countrysidebooks.co.uk/book-catalogue-book-details.php?book=1746

Brian Bowdler, a fisherman and member of the lifeboat crew at Looe says ‘There’s no two days the same when we go to sea.  If anything goes wrong, we tend to have a laugh about it.  There’s humour in any hard job, else it would be un-doable’.  His father, Lionel remembered ‘We had a wartime mine that we towed up, which we had to bring in to shallow waters for the Navy to blow up.  That was quite interesting!  Brian had to sit on it all the way in, to stop it from rolling around.’

Alan Dingle of West Looe recalled ‘The men I trained with were very experienced.  They knew everything about the area – the weather, the conditions of the sea, and you were told not to do this, and not to do that.  We were out there one night when I was a youngster, and I was whistling.  The skipper, he said to me, “We got enough wind without you whistling”, and he wouldn’t let me have no dinner!  So I learned my lesson there, quick!’

During the Second World War local fishermen were enlisted by the Royal Navy.  Claudie Richards of Polruan has vivid memories of his wartime service in his requisitioned boat, Rosemary.  Sent to rendezvous with a submarine, he recalled, ‘It was dark, with patches of drizzly rain.  I slowed the engine down, then it come calm and I could smell cigarette smoke.  Then suddenly this great thing loomed up in front of me – it was the conning tower of a submarine!  I went alongside and this officer called out “I say, how did you find me?”  ‘It’s your cigarette smoke!’  He says, “Well, I’m damned!” 

MEMORIES OF THE EAST ANGLIAN FISHING INDUSTRY by Ian Robb

http://www.countrysidebooks.co.uk/book-catalogue-book-details.php?book=1833

Ernie Childs of Great Yarmouth recalls the hundreds of boats moored in the harbour during the height of the herring season in the 1950s.  On a Sunday morning when all the crews had gone to church, locals could climb across from one boat to the other to get from Great Yarmouth to Gorleston, rather than walk the half mile around and over the Haven Bridge!

One of the greatest losses to the East Anglian fishing industry has been the Scots fishergirls.  They moved south following the fishing, travelling from port to port, gutting, pickling and packing herring by the million as they went.  In East Anglia vast number of these Scots lassies could be found in Great Yarmouth, Gorleston and Lowestoft throughout the herring season.

Ernie Childs of Great Yarmouth recalled his early life on the Fish Wharf in the 1950s and retains his affection for the lassies ‘I’ve grown up with these old girls, y’see.  They were “girls” no matter how old they were.  When you’re down with them, it’s lovely.  You used to be among them and they were singing away.  It was a wonderful atmosphere.’

MEMORIES OF THE LANCASHIRE FISHING INDUSTRY by Ron Freethy

http://www.countrysidebooks.co.uk/book-catalogue-book-details.php?book=1823

Mick Rodgers has been a deckhand all his life.  ‘I began as a galley boy and I’ve never been so ill in my life.  There’s nowt worse than sea sickness.  Imagine a high sea running and I’m sat there peeling spuds and putting them into ice cold water.  Suddenly the metal bucket lurched across the deck and I waited for the next roll to bring it back because I were too ill to move.  It was then I realised how a good crew worked together.  A deckhand looked at me and told me to go and lie down and he continued with my work.’

Retired deckhand Mick Rodgers recalls ‘I was shipwrecked twice.  The first time was in the Boston Lightning.  It was blowing a gale when we were struck amidships by the Grimsby trawler Lord Howe.  Her bow embedded in our vessel but the Grimsby skipper kept his head.  We were losing water but the Lord Howe partly sealed the gap.  We were able to launch a boat and then board the Lord Howe.  The Grimsby lads then went astern and took us to a safe billet on the west coast of Iceland.  The luckiest man alive that day was Jimmy Crisp who was our wireless operator.  He had just left his radio room when the collision occurred and a Grimsby anchor demolished his radio room completely.’

Those who fished off the coast of Lancashire faced, and still face, potential danger every time they put to sea.   Joyce Openshaw, former director of the Iago Company remembers the wrecking of the ST Red Falcon off Skerrymore in 1959 when 19 men were lost.  ‘This was the worst day in the history of the Iago Company and we were all devastated.  What can you say to a grieving woman with children at her skirts?  We lost a ship but the families lost loved ones which is much more important.’

MEMORIES OF THE LINCOLNSHIRE FISHING INDUSTRY by Bernard Bale

http://www.countrysidebooks.co.uk/book-catalogue-book-details.php?book=1830

John Vincent, the resident guide for the Grimsby Fishing Heritage Centre, recalls ‘I was eight when my father first took me on a trip.  It is a fishing family tradition that boys go out for a maiden trip at around that age. You are old enough to take in what is happening but there is little you can do to help. It is a kind of baptism thing with everything going on around you.   It was a great experience though and by the time I came back I knew where my future was going to be. I don't know what it was that was the greatest appeal. Perhaps it was a successful voyage, bringing home food for the nation and a pay packet for the family, maybe it was simply being out on the sea which is a world of its own, the camaraderie on board or just the fact that I wanted to be like my Dad. I don't know. I just knew that I was hooked from the start and I have never regretted it.’

Former deep sea fisherman Michael Sparkes of Grimsby recalls ‘Sailing home in bad weather our steel bobbins broke loose one morning and the mate sent me and another deckie, Norman, to secure them.  We saw a tremendous sea coming at us on the starboard side. I managed to duck beneath the ship's rail which meant it went over me with its full force. Poor Norman was washed over the winch by the wave, badly injuring his back. He later spent quite a while in hospital recovering after we arrived home and decided not to do deep water fishing off Iceland any more’.

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