St Andrew's Dock, Tired and Lonely

Just a few remaining supports from a long derelict jetty, sentinels to times past

I had the opportunity the other weekend while the sun shone to spend some quality time with my middle son John as he comes home to visit now and then. We have a love to chat about eclectic subjects and we have a love of history and photography and what can be done that’s different with this wonderful media.

Son John taking a photo of me taking a photo of him - nicely framed - except someone's stolen the metal frame for scrap!

I’m not arty or anything, but I try not to be a simple snapper either. I suppose I am fortunate to live in a pleasant part of the UK next to the countryside in East Yorkshire and the city/urban life too, so there is a bit of choice and a bit of history to get my teeth into as you have discovered on here if you are a regular reader.

The dock basin, all silted now with the lock head at the top.

Living close to one of the countries busiest and dramatic rivers, the Humber helps to provide decent subjects and there are some disused docks and dock buildings from yesteryear that have not been developed which, for the photographer and the feral pigeon is fine, although I have to say that the more derelict the buildings get that surround the docks the worse it starts to look and does nothing for image of the area either. 

One of the many derelict buildings on St Andrew's Quay, once a home to a proud and busy shipping company (a friend's mother cleaned the boadroom there 50 years ago and grand inside it was!) Modern Hull docks and a ferry in the distance

If my memory serves me right there are eleven dock of various kinds not including dry docks and piers etc., in Hull which are either in use, derelict or filled in but nonetheless are still easily recognisable as docks. Perhaps this is testament to the city of Hull’s place in the import/export trade going back to the 13^th century. With Hull being the only port allowed in Yorkshire to import and export legitimate goods, wine and wool became its staple business.

Fisherman's line caught on this pillar

Trade in cloth, lead, iron, tar, fish, whaling etc., meant that the Haven containing riverside wharves (at the confluence of the river Hull and the Humber) was just too small to cope plus of course the tides play havoc with the trade so in 1773 the Dock Company was founded and docks started to be built and the rest as they say, is history.

So the derelict St Andrew’s Dock was the subject of our pictures that day in beautiful sunshine and bitter wind. Opened in 1883, it handled fish and Hessle Road, adjacent to the Dock was renowned for its link to the fishing heritage of the port. It closed in 1975, some of it was filled in and a retail park built upon it and the rest just silted up and the buildings slowly ran to ruin.

 

In 2013, the charity 'St Andrew's Dock Heritage Park Action Group' (STAND) selected a design for a memorial to the 6,000 Hull trawler-men who lost their lives in the fishing industry, to be sited next to the Humber at the dock entrance and although vitally important, it looks a little lost tucked away between the lock gates and a derelict building. I lost a Great Uncle, Stan, an engineer aboard the Hull trawler Ross Cleveland which sank in 1968, so it does have meaning for me as one part of my family, my father’s side come from the immediate area and had links to the fishing industry.

A great day, enjoy the pics for what they are and enjoy the week ahead.

Chat soon

Ta-ra

Northumbrian Delight

Sunset from Holy Island Causeway

My internet is now restored, albeit via a dongle in an area that has poor reception and following two phone calls to my service provider who admitted the local mast had a data reception fault on it, it is now working to a reasonable if somewhat slow standard.

Life is tootling on. I’ve just returned from a long weekend away in the beautiful countryside of Northumbria. I’ve only ever been there previously for work purposes and literally stayed for the day in Newcastle and returned without seeing the city or the countryside. However, for the sake of the need for relaxation, I decided to stay in the countryside at a place call Lowick half way between Berwick upon Tweed and Alnwick and adjacent to Holy Island.

The causeway to Holy Island as the tide drops to allow traffic to pass to and from the mainland.

The countryside is indeed beautiful and not as rugged as I imagined. The Cheviot Hills to the west were covered in snow and although the weather was cold, I was lucky and got plenty of sun although showers were never very far away and that did provide for some spectacular sky-scapes at times.

On the first evening I went to see the causeway to Holy Island and it was a shame because my itinerary did not allow for a visit to the island itself. The area is alive with seabirds of every kind around the causeway and as I arrived the tide was just going out allowing a few cars to start to cross to and from the island.

On day two I travelled to Berwick upon Tweed for the morning, English yet with a population of people with Scottish accents although officially it is called north Northumbrian, a mix between a Northumbrian accent and east Scottish accent.) . The town is lovely and in need of investment in parts, but there was a bit to see, the beautiful river Tweed and the defensive walls that surround it. Unfortunately the Barracks were closed for the season as was the town hall. I never quite understand this because there are still visitors, even in the depths of winter and early spring who would want access. I once went to Whitby Abbey in February and found the same inconvenience.

The Tweed taken from the Royal Tweed Bridge

Berwick has ‘changed hands’ many times between the Scots and English over the years and may even have been at war once with Russia. According to Wikipedia, the story goes as follows: 

“The story tells that since Berwick had changed hands several times, it was traditionally regarded as a special, separate entity, and some proclamations referred to "England, Scotland and the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed". One such was the declaration of the Crimean War against Russia in 1853, which Queen Victoria supposedly signed as "Victoria, Queen of Great Britain, Ireland, Berwick-upon-Tweed and all British Dominions". When the Treaty of Paris (1856) was signed to conclude the war, "Berwick-upon-Tweed" was left out. This meant that, supposedly, one of Britain's smallest towns was officially at war with one of the world's largest powers – and the conflict extended by the lack of a peace treaty for over a century.” Oh if only that were a true story.

The afternoon was spent in Eyemouth just north of the border in Scotland. This was a lovely little working port and again very quiet. There were seals in the harbour and the people were friendly (no jokes about Scottish independence please!)

The memorial at Flodden Field

On the way back, a visit to Coldstream for a cuppa and the site of the Battle of Flodden Fields in 1513 where there is an isolated and eerily quiet memorial on a hillside to the dead in this last famous (military) battle between the Scots and the English near a pretty but tiny village of Branxton.

The casualty figures are astounding with around 1,500 English dead and between 5,000 and 17,000 Scottish dead and James IV was killed in the battle, becoming the last monarch from Britain to suffer such a death.

Bamburgh Castle in beautiful early spring sun

The third day was spent travelling and between Lowick and home there were short sightseeing visits to Bamburgh Castle, Seahouses, a gorgeous little seaport south of Bamburgh and Durham as well as a flying visit to the magnificent Antony Gormley statue of the Angel of the North.

The Angel of the North. Male or Female? (In my view, neither)

A great weekend in lovely last winter/early spring weather.

Great to be back

Chat soon

Ta-ra

Whether or Weather

 The New Year is well underway and I hope you have a fantastic one - I guess it's what we make of it isn't it. 

Depending where you are reading this from, if you speak or read English, you are almost certainly speaking your own personal brand of this lovely but complicated language. In the UK alone, regional variations, even local variations are very noticeable and of course when you meet a Scot or a Welsh person or someone with Irish roots, then the difference is palpable. 

However, it's not so much the basics of the language, its the use of the words in different contexts that I have the most fun with. Here's an example.

a 'snicket' in Cottingham East Yorkshire

Walking back from the village this morning, I walked down the snicket next to the church. In truth, this is just a path bordered by hedges that runs alongside the church. This description is used locally, I have heard it elsewhere however. Another name is a ginnel, a passage, cut-through or, less accurately a ten-foot or an eight-foot. 

We have ten-foots too. No that's not a grammatical error, the ten-foot is the 'road' that runs behind our houses to allow services access that isn't accessible by the public at large as a through way. Why ten-foot? Because the standard is that it's ten foot wide in this part of the country. 

What is your local name for your 'snickets?'

St Georges flag flying atop St Mary's Church in Cottingham, East Yorkshire

I noticed that the flag of St George is flying today from the church flagpole. Arguments aside about the potential offensive use of the flag, I wondered why the flag was being flown. My brief research tells me that the flag is able to be flown as the national flag of England (not the UK) any day of the year although in reality, the flag is generally flown from churches on special days.  The flag dates back to 1348 as the official flag although an earlier use is recorded in 1300 but it hadn't been adopted as the official flag by then. Vexillology is the study of flags and associated emblems - a fact for the quiz buff!

Unfortunately neither the Government website nor the churches give the reason for the flag flying, perhaps they've just left it there from Christmas and New Year's celebrations. 

The USA are suffering bad weather at the moment which is being extensively reported here in the UK. I wish anyone living there good luck as temperatures of minus 50 - 60 degrees Fahrenheit are being reported. Traditionally, although I don't think it's strictly true, that whatever weather America has, we get it here two weeks later. The jet stream is very active and strong at the moment and the west to east airflow from the US to Europe is directly over the UK at the moment. I think a few people are worried.

Our current weather brought in from the Atlantic is causing much grief and upset to folk in the UK, particularly on the west coast as strong winds and high spring tides combine to cause local flooding and all the horror that comes with that. Stupidly, people are going to the coasts to observe the weather in dangerous locations and putting themselves and their children in some cases at risk.  Whilst it looks spectacular when a massive wave crashes over a sea wall, it carried the risk of serious injury or death and we have seen a number of deaths caused by such activity lately. 

My access to the Internet is severely limited at the moment for a number of reasons I won't bore you with, but it does cause problems uploading photographs which will be lower quality in size terms than usual for which I apologise.

Chat soon

Ta-ra.

Almost Here

Christmas is all but upon us.  For those that celebrate it,  there is much to take us away from the routine of 'normal' living. 

The preparations can start many months in advance and inevitably come at a cost.  Yet for most,  the time,  cost and effort is worth every bit the doing on the basis of the positive time it can bring in the coming together of families and friends. Traditions vary from family to family,  town to town,  country to country,  so mine will be different to anyone else's. 

I guess my early memories of Christmas living in an old Victorian three storey house with frost on the inside of the windows in winter (no double glazing or central heating) are seen through rose tinted glasses. 

Christmas days were spent in the front room which wasn't used for the rest of the year.  A coal fire roared,  a real Christmas tree stood as tall as the 10 feet high ceiling,  toast was prepared on the fire using a toasting fork my dad made and Chestnuts on a pan under the red hot coals tasted gorgeous.  The extended family often visited,  Turkey was always the order of the day (more than once cooked upside down) and the Queen's speech always reigned after the meal. 

Evenings were taken up with games and special television treats like Morecambe and Wise with their brave celebrity guests appearing in Ernie's plays.  It sounds opulent and idyllic,  in truth,  both my parents had to work hard to maintain that draughty old house and support me and my grandparents who lived with us. 

I do understand why people are concerned about the commercialism of Christmas.  Every year I hear the awareness campaign by many to remember the true meaning of Christmas.  However it does seem that our younger children do get this education at school.  Nativities are done and  carols are still sung,  not just number one Christmas chart hits.  The secret is the balance between commercialism which helps maintain the expectations of a lot of people and the origins of Christmas and it's true meaning. 

What us it's true meaning? Although the time and date of Christ's birth is uncertain to say the least,  the celebration of his birth is a catalyst for something greater. 

Charles Docking wrote several different works around Christmas including the most famous Christmas Carol,  and the story's message is one of the best examples of what we should aspire to.  I've written many times about neighbourliness and good citizenship in thus blog.  I don't think it takes anything else to be honest.  The unsolicited good deed,  the kind thought,  the "thank you",  going the extra step for someone else's sake. 

On the television in the background while I write this is Oscar Wilde's Canterville Ghost.  I've never read the book,  but the kindness and sacrifice of the young girl to seek out the story of the restless haunting ghost and allow him to seek eternal rest by putting her own safety at risk is a human compassionate thing to do. 

So whatever he Christmas period holds for you,  I hope you enjoy the time whether working or not,  whether you are with your family or not,  I hope love and peace knocks on your door and benevolence shakes you by the hand.

Chat soon

Ta-ra

All Change

I decided I needed to exercise,  so on my day off,  I used the morning to walk around my childhood village of Cottingham. 

The day was chilly but bright and calm,  but I got wrapped up and set off at a reasonable pace.  Cottingham is a pleasant and friendly place a couple of miles north of Hull and several people who I passed wished me a good morning. 
I walked along Priory Road,  a country road between Cottingham and Hull.  A single magpie flew across my path and I saluted it,  although I'm not sure what the motorists though as they passed me,  but at least I didn't spit and turn around like some do.  There were many horses busily grazing in the fields,  some with horse blankets,  some without. "Do not feed the horses,  they bite"  signs are abundant on the ranch fencing.  A bunch of pretty plastic red roses were tied to an elder tree,  in tribute to a loved one killed in a road traffic collision there some years back. 

My mobile phone exercise application informed me I'd walked a mile,  so I turned round and headed back and into the village centre.  A quick coffee and a couple of texts and I meandered through the east of the village.  Childhood memories came flooding back,  Hallgate where I lived looks familiar but in truth,  everything has changed. 

The old fashioned butchers which had sawdust on the floor and half cows hanging from the ceiling is now a deli.  Cottages are now a pub.  The long demolished vicarage is an old folks home.  I passed by St Marys church,  largely unchanged and along the snicket passed the tiny village hall,  the charity cottage bequeathed to the village in the 1700s and the even smaller church hall.  Another cottage along the snicket,  now restored and modernised was where I used to buy free range eggs as a child. The chickens no longer roam the area.

Continuing along Hallgate, I passed my childhood home  which now has a blue plaque to recognise Jacob Bronowski,  humanist,  scientist and broadcaster (The Ascent of Man) who lived there in 1942. Rounding the corner into Beck Bank,  the huge gothic and dark house called Cherry Garth has gone and now replaced by a modern set of flats with the same name.  The original house was so large,  it had a ballroom at the back which is where I used to rehearse when I belonged to the Cottingham Dramatic Society (CDS).

The large wide beck which carried water from Cottingham to Hull is all covered in and hides where we used to play as kids.  A tiny park at the end of the road which was really just a patch of grass and a few trees is still there.  My adventurous and country brought up dad used to climb to the top of the chestnut trees hunting for conkers for me. 

So,  2.5 miles walked,  fresh air and an enjoyable experience starts off what I hope will be a positive and pleasant week. 

Chat soon

Ta-ra

"Dodged a Bullet"

Hornsea Mere, East Yorkshire just before sunset

I've posted three pictures I have taken this last week or so as the mellow late autumn weather gave us some lovely entertainment with its spectacular sunsets and early morning views across the countryside.

This is in stark contrast to the weather we have experienced in the UK on Thursday 5th December 2013 which brought devastating storm force winds and surge tides last night across most of the North Sea and parts of some other coasts.

A lovely sunset over West Hull, this scene attracted photos from all over the city on social media that night

Because I am on rising ground to the Wolds, the surge waters did not affect me and the high winds seemed to have caused little substantial damage, I was lucky. Others have not been so. In the village where I live, properties on the front of the Humber have been badly flooded by unprecedented high tides accompanied by a surge over and above the tide caused by storm winds and low pressure down the east coast of the country pushed water over barriers and embankments which would at any other time cope admirably.

Misty fields near where I work one chill morning last week.

Major roads into Hull which run parallel to the Humber were washed out, city centre streets in Hull were under water resulting in much disruption, traffic chaos and of course deep upsetment to individuals whose property has been devastated by muddy, foul water. Other areas around the Humber Basin in Lincolnshire too were badly affected with whole villages being evacuated.

Unlike the rains that affected most people in this area in 2007, this was different and more unsettling. This was mother nature at her most forceful and there was nothing anyone could do. The power of the sea is unrivalled.  In recent years, flood defences have improved in most places and without this, the effects would have been multiplied many times over.

But it could have been worse. The phrase "dodged a bullet" was coined by a local BBC radio Humberside presenter this morning who rightly observed that the effects were close to having been a  national disaster were it not for the work of the emergency services and local agencies and the public's good spirit. A second predicted damaging tide this morning did not produce any more flooding thank goodness.  BBC provided local information on the radio that was both useful and the reporting was powerful and frightening at the same time - but at least the public were informed.

Chat soon

Ta-ra

Hull, City of Culture 2017 - Don't Miss the Boat

A rain shower just passes at sunset over the fields in West Hull. The bath to the right is for the horses to drink from

I hope you are getting used to the weather if you are in the UK, some regular ground frosts now appearing and icy windscreens to clear in a morning. On the flip side, it's certainly invigorating to go for a walk in this wintry sunshine.

There have been some interesting developments locally in so far as the neighbouring town of Kingston upon Hull is concerned, it's been chosen as the City of Culture 2017.

 
I am absolutely delighted for the city. The local use of social media to promote the City has been truly stunning when you look at the statistics compared to the other cities in the race. 

There have been, and are, so many detractors, whingers, moaners, bad mouthing ignorant miserable... people (for want of a better word) who delight in their own negativity.

And yet, they are so short sighted not to realise that the city is now going to start to develop a better feeling about itself and whilst Government does not put any cash into the initiative, inward investment and benefits through additional visitors and publicity through events for example will make the city feel much better about itself and enable it to lift itself out of the doldrums. Jobs and cash will come as a result.

Someone said Hull is a city, "coming out of the darkness," and that is possibly true. I would rather like to think it's been in a bit of a twilight. There are so many positives and yet so many negatives which has created that sense of stalemate for so long. I'm not going to make a case for the positives the city has nor discuss the negatives because no city is perfect, balanced and wholly positive. 

None the less - there is an opportunity now to move forward with grace and dignity and with a positive frame of mind. 

The armchair critics who sit on their backsides and moan all day long and use the anonymity of the net to be destructive either need to put up or shut up now. Contribute or bugger off, I don't want to hear you any more. Use your freedom of speech to talk to the mirror - you just love to hear yourself speak.

The City Council, in dire difficulties due to Government cuts in public spending now needs to be supportive and innovative to encourage its citizenry and visitors to make 2017 and the run up to it something to remember and leave a positive lasting legacy to move this city finally into the 21st century.

Over the few years I've been doing this blog, you will have hopefully seen some sense of balance about the place near where I live and where I have worked all my adult life barring four years. It is both an interesting place to live, work and to spend leisure time and it's been an interesting journey watching it slowly and painfully rise out of the rubble of the second World War.

When I started to work in the city in 1973, there were still bomb damaged building sites and gaps in streets where houses had been demolished. No more thank goodness. The strides forward made have been tremendous, but now the time has come to press the accelerator firmly to the floor and drive us all, neighbours, inhabitants and visitors toward greater things. Time and tide waits for no-man, start working at making life better for this wonderful old city now or miss the boat for ever.

Chat soon

Ta-ra

What the Papers Say

Rushes and reeds highlighted in the low autumnal sun

The first real signs of winter may be coming to the UK next week around Tuesday with more widespread snow. The Scottish highlands, as would be expected have already had some - the rest of us are getting some of our own. Oh joy and it's still only November; having said that, snow here at this time of the year is not as rare as people think.

I was fortunate enough to be invited to review the Sunday papers on BBC Radio Humberside this morning on Andy Comfort's Sunday Brunch from 10 am to midday. It's something I am invited to so occasionally and it's thoroughly enjoyable. Andy is a wonderful host and professional presenter who engenders a relaxed atmosphere mixed with great music and a bit of fun.

The secret to reviewing papers is picking a story about which you are interested - not necessarily knowledgeable about, and treat the whole thing like a chat with a mate over a cuppa. Pick a mix of serious and off beat stories of broad interest as possible. Give a precis of the story, give an opinion if you have one and don't swear! I always go fairly early to give myself plenty of time to read the eight or nine papers that are presented to me and I scan them all from front to back looking for headlines and stories that people may be interested in.

Local tree with leaves highlighted by the low powerful autumn sun

I have no idea what the demographics are of the audience to this station nowadays, but they are not at all young I guess, but they are knowledgeable about music and local issues and are very loyal listeners. The radio station recently won the Sony Radio Station of the Year (300K to 1M listeners) award. No mean feat.

My stories today were:

Sunday Telegraph - Children in Need

£31 million raised for good causes and although I never saw it, the writer comments that it was one of the best Children in Need BBC shows she had seen.

Independent on Sunday - Superbugs

This was a disturbing story based on a report in the Lancet that we as a race of people facing having infections which are resistant to antibiotics because we use them too much. An unnamed doctor is quoted as saying the public and doctors need educating - "...just because you're ill, do you need a pill?"

Sunday Times - Pricier Christmas menus in the home

Based on 15 items average price across four supermarkets, some items have gone up 125% over last years prices and the 15 items in total have gone up 17%. Higher animal feed and imports as well as a lack of supermarket promotions are blamed.

Mail on Sunday - Stamp of honour for literary giant Trollope

Anthony Trollope is to be honoured with a set of stamps to commemorate him. This literary giant also had local East Yorkshire connections because he worked for the Post Office in Hull for a short while and initiated a failed bid to become an MP in the 1860s for Beverley, when the campaign he fought in was riddled with corruption and it was investigated. He was also responsible for the introduction of the Post Box in the UK. 

Sunday People - Jimmy Greaves top 50 all time footballers

This famous footballer rated John Charles as his all time number one footballer who in 1957 was sold to Juventus by Leeds United, one of the first foreign transfers, for the princely and record sum of £62,000. George Best, Booby Moore, Bobby Charlton and Stanley Matthews also appeared in his top five. 

Sunday Express - Doctor Who's 50th anniversary

The paper listed all of the Doctors and a brief history of each although they forgot to name Peter Cushing as the Doctor in two films.

A bit of fun to lighten a Sunday followed by a lovely lunch with a friend. Christmas card writing  tonight and perhaps wrapping a couple of presents.

Chat soon

Ta-ra.

Ladybird, Ladybird Fly Away Home

As part of a memorial weekend here in the UK, centred around Remembrance Sunday I had occasion to accompany a friend today to the cemetery where her family are buried. 

Chanterlands Avenue Cemetery in Hull also known as the Western Cemetery opened in 1889 and was privately run by the Hull General Cemetery Company until 1972 when it closed for burials and the council took over its maintenance. I understand burials still take place there but only in family graves where plots have been previously paid for.

The cemerary has one 'famous' burial there and being Remembrance Weekend it is very apt, John Cunningham who died in 1941 was a British Victoria Cross War Medal Recipient. He served as a Private in the 12th Battalion of The East Yorkshire Regiment. He was awarded his Medal for service at Hebuterne, Somme, France, on November 13, 1916.

The place is large, sprawling and quiet with huge trees and a little wildlife such as squirrels. It's maintenance can be best described as a little shabby, but acceptable as far as it goes for a Victorian cemetery. There is too much subsidence of graves and memorial stones and the pathways are unclear, being covered in leaf. But at least it's locked on a night and surrounded by a substantial fencing.

Imagine my surprise when getting back into the car to see this collection of ladybirds and their larva situated on the corner of a sandstone grave memorial.  Ladybirds are the family Coccinellidae - of small beetles. In the US, you like to call them ladybugs I understand.

Ladybirds and their larva on a Hull gravestone 10 November 2013, about 1.15 pm

Although today was bitterly cold, just 6 degrees Celsius at midday, the sun was bright and the sky clear, out of the breeze, it was quite warm. These ladybirds were sunning themselves.

As part of a series of popular songs about ladybirds, this traditional rhyme (and there are many variations) was penned in English in 1744, and to be honest, I never understood it as a kid, it seemed a little macabre to say the least:

Ladybird, ladybird fly away home,
Your house is on fire and your children are gone,
All except one,
And her name is Ann,
And she hid under the baking pan.

Well the explanations seems to go something like this: It's very unlucky to kill a ladybird. So, in order not to make a mistake and accidentally kill one, you were supposed to sing this verse to it and it would fly away home, presumably to look for survivors and check the insurance policy! But it would fly away, safe to continue its life for another day.

Another variation is if a ladybird lands on you, you sing the verse and when it flies away, you make a wish and it will come true, a reward for saving its life.

I hope if you are in the northern hemisphere, you are protecting yourself against the cold, winter is on its way.

Chat soon

Ta-ra

Lest We Forget

Image courtesy Wikipedia

11th November, 11 am GMT - a couple of minutes silence is the least we can do to remember those fallen in war and conflict to protect the innocent, preserve democracy and create proper justice. Put the political arguements aside for just two minutes as a sign of respect.

 

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

 

Extract from The "Ode of Remembrance" taken from Laurence Binyon's poem, "For the Fallen," 1914

Chat soon

Ta-ra