#1 (The Coracle)

The coracle is a small craft, made from a framework that is covered in skin or a canvas material, this could be jute. The material is then covered with a waterproof substance, this could be pitch or its modern equivalent bitumen.

The coracle is favoured by the fen man, eel bobber and general stilt waking member, it is designed to be carried when the water runs out and becomes the shore.

Its light weight build makes it an ideal flatland vessel, being popular with the fisherman, poacher and the ladies.

The eel bobber will use his coracle in conjunction with a bobbing pole, this consists of a wooden pole with a length of Worsted wool attached.

In the Fens where the land becomes as bread and soup, this small craft becomes as indispensable as the punt.

All along the long drains the shadow of the wind pumps falling,
Three Bridges
Guyhurn
Welney
Stump
Orwell
Nene
Limpenhoe Spong.


******


Across the sound three boats are sailing, in hulls wet, tired sailors’ burn their fingers on the primus stoves.

First watch and second watch, then sleep in damp bags with a weevil and reindeer hair.

Smuts so black, grease hangs in the air, the blubber stove lets out its heat and tender little hiss.

A berg in view with the promise of some water, stick your ribs pudding and morning bear goo.

The motion of the sea taints the thought of many, days go by in the open topped spree.


******


Black great coat
Pale, worn denim work trouser
Black boots, rubber soled
Pipe and tobacco, bottle of Lambs Navy Rum
Woodbine for the wife
Cap with stains and a short wool scarf
A watch of your father and a book of your life.
As the fleet pulled into the harbour no women allowed to meet you, two weeks away at sea and a staggered walk home.

The skipper would have killed me for bringing the monkey on board, a whole fishing trip was forfeit ‘we might as well go home’. Being chased around the boiler room, waving the wrench around his head, smoke curling through the hatches and the sky full of northern stars and breeze as nice as nip.

The following days as things calmed down, the fishing was good, if not cold above deck. The skipper was less uneasy about the jinx of animals on board and he even spoke to me at lunch, as a storm rattled the cutlery and knocked the cooking pots together on their butcher’s hooks.

The next five days were choppy and blowy, the spume lashed the deck and washed my naive puke between the planks and spars. There was not time to bear on the monkey incident, as we pulled together to secure the catch.

My pipe smoking caused me much sickness, so I threw it overboard, tobacco shared out and then a fish scale in the eye. The ships cook got it out for me and gave me a tot of rum, even the skipper seemed concerned and lightened his attitude towards me.

With holds full of the silver darlings we headed home, with a promise of a night on the tiles, I would finally become a man. Into the mouth we returned and to disembark.

Mother was there to meet me, breaking all the codes, so home instead of drinking,
I was secretly pleased.


******


October 1934, the rain was falling heavily, running down the cobbles and tipping over the blocked, lead rain chutes that lined the rows of old Great Yarmouth.

Edward was preparing himself for a long trip, buying the last of his personal store that would accompany him on a voyage that would take at least three years.

Late that evening he would catch a train that would journey to London Liverpool Street. then an overground train to East India Docks.

It was here that the voyage would begin, a ship bearing nothing but ballast would return to the Plimsoll line with goods from another hemisphere.

Edward had one more task to perform before his departure from Blighty.

Alice worked preparing fish that reached this port, a strong dark haired woman, beautiful of temperament and quick with the gutting knife.

Without ceremony Edward asked Alice to be his wife, She had until evening tide to give her response.

Her answer was ‘Yes’.
Edward sailed away from her for three years, coming home early due to the scarlet fever.

The sea is vast yet intimate with its crews, the song of the sea bird sounds lonely because it is a lonely voice above a crowd. There is no malice in the sea but an uneasy carelessness. As a gardener may forget to water his stock, so the sea will deny land, calm, wind, rain, glare and the night at an ill conceived moment. This fickle body called the sea or an ocean, or a waterway, can deliver or damn the men that ride upon its back like a blue monkey.

The desperate sounds of the sailor, lost at sea with past life for company, Loreli waits for him in her splendid grey, blue robes and does not care whether he loves her or another.

Tides raise and fall like the movement of your breast, there in the morning light before my departure. The heat of the night dispersed through the grey of the dawn light, the movement in the street of the early morning troops.

Goodbye my love, stay true in my absence, do not be jealous of my love of the sea, for she will be true to both you and to me.


******


What a sailor needs for three years at sea

As a sailor you will need:
A strong disposition in the stomach region
Good dentistry or nonchalance to pain
Books, maybe three
The Holy Bible (by God)
Three Men in a Boat (by Jerome K Jerome)
The Gospels in Brief (by Leo Tolstoy)
You may take others but you will never read them.

One or two of your favourite pipes
At least a year of tobacco
A needle and thread
The photo of your sweet heart, mother, bairn, etc
A shirt and tie for going ashore, in all the ports you’re likely to call
Soap, One bar of (big), soda for the teeth

Vestas or flints, lighter of the trench variety. Under garments and spare trouser, vests and woollen garb, snow shoes for the colder climes and sweat rags for the tropics.

The most important item is the hat, this may take some time to decide upon.