A NEW LEASE OF LIFE?...

I woke up this morning to yet another barrage of the cacophonous mayhem surrounding Brexit and decided that it was time to seek out some good news.   And I found it with the report that the Hythe Ferry seems at last to have a brighter future.

Now, Hythe ferry has played a number of roles in my life, beginning with my boyhood in the village of Hythe when we used to take the ferry to Southampton - my mother to do some shopping and my father to take me to The Dell to watch the Saints play in those days in the Second Division (which is where they threaten to return.)

The photo above shows the ferry leaving Southampton Town Quay. from where it will chug its way between ocean going cruise liners, huge container ships and numerous pleasure craft to complete its 20 minute voyage back to Hythe Pier.   For some years now the future of the ferry has been in doubt, sustained largely by grants from Hampshire County Council but just recently the ferry was taken over by Blue Funnel Ferries, who have made improvements to the service and brought a new regime of more efficient management which bodes well for the future. It provides perhaps a more sustainable means of getting to and from Southampton than the heavily congested A326 and the approach roads to Southampton city centre.

I have a couple of memories that stand out from the countless times I have made the journey, one being the occasion when, during a winter evening following yet another Saints defeat the ferry was on its way back to Hythe when a huge cruise ship decided to reverse out of its berth, leading to the ferry shuddering to a halt.  I looked up and saw this enormous maritime block of flats looming above the ferry in th darkness.  I knew - or at least assumed - that we were safe but it was a sight to behold nonetheless.

And then, following a defeat by Manchester City, the ferry made it back to Hythe Pier only for the pier to be so severely rammed by an out of control dredger that it was put out of action for some weeks. (The inebriated dredger captain and his dredger also suffered the same fate.)  Fortunately for me, I had just managed to get back to the end of the pier before the crash happened.

(Please click on photo for better image)

But throughout my life Hythe ferry has remained a constant reminder of my growing up in that village by the sea and although times have been tough for both of us on occasions, we have both survived and now, thanks to enlightened new owners and a new registered charity to safeguard what is a historic pier with the world`s oldest pier passenger train,  the future of Hythe ferry is assured at least for now.  I hope I can say the same about myself.

Oh well, back to the Brexit mayhem.......

///

60 YEARS ON...

This is an interesting photo - for me, anyway.   It shows the old cottages lining St. John`s Street in Hythe.   Sixty years ago it was but a small village on the western shore of Southampton Water and it`s where I spent my boyhood years.   A good place to be growing up - our cottage was just down the road beyond the big white house and we lived there until the early 1950s when BOAC closed their flying boat maintenance base and we had to leave the village for my father to find alternative employment elsewhere.

But the memories of that place and that time stay with me and 60 years on I still look back with fond memories of happy days and good friends, despite the ravages of post-war austerity.   I wasn`t aware of any austerity as such, as I had only ever known how life had been during the war years after which rationing of all kinds of things was still with us.

One of my good friends was William (`Billy`) Scammell, sadly no longer with us but remembered as one of this country`s finest post war poets, editors and critics.   He and I spent those formative years alternating between school, the Solent shore and the New Forest and maybe it was because of those places that we both developed a kind of inbred affection for what was home for us.   Bill went on to encapsulate those feelings in some of his finest work - his collection of published poetry and prose contains references to Hythe that will be familiar to those, like me, who know it so well.

But Bill was about more than sentimentality and some of his poems are concerned with deeper issues.  Perhaps the best illustration I can give is `Remembering the Great War` which has been used for study in degree courses and which, of course, is very relevant as the nation remembers the centenary of the end of the first world war........

Opaque and resonant as sacred texts 
the names alone sound out a litany:
Passchendaele, Ypres, the Somme. Verdun......

Some dropped perfect but for a sweet
smudge of gas - others, dispersing, spanned
earth in the wildest hug.

Men flashed hissing to their elements
like spit gobbed on a stove.  One officer
in nomansland apologised to his troops

behind for lasting in such loud low screams.
Four men unwound their lives to staunch
his uproar - failed, like the concerted knuckles

hammered round his teeth.  Gowned neutrally
for christenings, deaths, history thumbs
its cheap editions, weltering in echoes.

I think of Sassoon`s tall heart, contracting
fiercest love for his own men, one of whom
shot him from excess of zeal;  of Graves`s

stretched contempts.  The fires they grazed rot down
in village squares.  On memory`s floor words rut
and root, nosing blind and ghastly at the tongue.

The photo above was taken from the churchyard of St. John`s church and its bell will surely ring out in solemn remembrance as I was once, only once, honoured to ring it to call Bill and my other boyhood friends to afternoon Sunday school.   That`s what we did on Sunday afternoons all those 60 years ago.   I wonder if it happens nowadays.

A confession.   Yes, I am one of the billions now who use Facebook and in my case I do so in order to keep in touch with people and places which are dear to me.  People such as good friends, old comrades from my old regiment - the 10th Royal Hussars; Southampton Football Club and the fans forum, my old schools, people here in the village where I live; and places such as Cornwall, Gerrans and Portscatho, Fawley and Blackfield and Hythe and The Waterside.   Blackfield was where I spent most of the war years, sleeping under the stairs as the bombs rained down on Southampton every night and Fawley was where I first went to school.  

Hythe on the shore of Southampton Water is where we first lived as a family after my father came home after five years as a prisoner of war in Stalag V111B in Lamsdorf and it was at Hythe that I spent a wonderful boyhood with the sea on one side and the New Forest just up the road.  And in the last day or two, someone has posted some photos of Hythe on the Hythe and Waterside Facebook site and they brought back some very happy memories of those times.  With the consent of the photographer - and maybe in a fit of self-indulgence - here are those photos and the memories they recalled.   

The first is taken from what is now a little park that leads down to the water`s edge from The Grove - an imposing building which houses the offices of the Hythe and Dibden Parish Council.......

(Please click on photos for larger images)

When my father resumed civilian life after his trials in that unrelenting Stalag, he worked for the then BOAC, who had their flying boat maintenance operation at Hythe and we lived in a cottage next to The Grove, which was then a large private house and grounds.  I don`t know how or why but we were allowed to walk down to the end of what was the kitchen garden, which ended at the sea wall you can see in the picture.  

This next picture shows some of the new development that has taken place on the site of the former BOAC depot.........

All those years ago - late 40s/early 50s - there used to be a very large black hangar, where the flying boats were maintained and I still remember being enthralled as my mother and I used to sit on the sea wall and watch, spellbound, as firstly the bow of those great liners, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, would appear from behind the hangar and slowly the whole of those majestic ships would come into view. An awesome sight for me as a young boy  and one that lives with me still.

Lastly, another view of the shoreline of Hythe.......

As well as the Cunard liners, of course, there were passenger ships from all over the world coming in and out of Southampton, so Hythe was a good place to go beach combing. One of my school friends from Hythe Primary School and later Hardley, Billy Scammell and I used to spend many hours scouring the shore and we became fascinated by the empty matchboxes which had been thrown over board and washed up from the passing ships.  And so began our collection of match box tops and I still have mine to this day, 70 years on from those happy childhood days.   

Some years ago I discovered that Billy Scammell had passed away - in 2000 at the age of just 60 - when he left Hythe, as I did,  he went on to become a much admired and respected poet, author, critic and biographer.  He is remembered by a blue plaque on his old house in Alexandra Road but as we lost contact, having gone our separate ways, I have no idea whether he kept his collection. What I do know is that he retained a deep affection for Hythe, which features in some of his poems as `the village by the sea.`

So my thanks to the photographer, Julie Yeates, for taking these iconic photographs and for allowing me to reproduce them here.   Thanks for the memories, Julie, of a happy childhood in a happy place.  I hope it won`t be long before I can make another return visit.

GOOD NEWS AND GOOD NEWS...

It`s not often that I get interested in mergers, acquisitions and takeovers but the last few days have seen two lots of good news for people, like me, with concerns about affairs in and around Southampton.

First the good news about the Hythe Ferry. I grew up in Hythe on the western shore of Southampton Water and the ferry from Hythe to Southampton`s Town Quay was part of the permanent fixtures of my happy childhood.  I used to be taken on the ferry by my mother when she needed to go shopping and by my father to go to The Dell to watch Southampton - the Saints - playing in the old Second Division.  

For some years the ferry operation has been under threat as a result of falling passenger numbers and increased running costs and has only been kept going with subsidies from Hampshire County Council, who see it as a vital part of the transport links between the city and the Waterside.  More recently the prospect of the ferry having to close has become more acute but the good news is that both the ferry and the unique pier from which it operates are to be taken over by Blue Funnel , a long established and vastly experienced company operating from Southampton.   As a ferry has operated between Hythe and Southampton since at least 1575, when it was shown on Saxton`s map of the area, the news that its future is now secure is good news indeed.

The second bit of good news is that the Chinese Investment Group, Lander Sports, have now confirmed to the Stock Exchange that their interest in acquiring a stake in Southampton Football Club has now been abandoned.  For over a year now, they have been in discussion with representatives of the Saints` current owner, Katharina Liebherr and have had a lengthy period of exclusivity as the discussions have taken place.  

For Saints fans like me, this is also good news, as the current ownership has proved to be both benevolent and efficient and has seen the club rise from the depths of the third tier of English football into an established place in the Premier League.   It might be a case of `better the devil you know` but, as a former shareholder, the prospect of the club changing hands and leaping once more into the unknown was not a happy one for me.

All`s well that ends well?

MIND HOW YOU GO...

Here and there across the country there are loads of misplaced or simply daft signs.  One that always intrigues me can be seen on the M20 motorway as you approach Ashford in Kent. There`s a huge sign which says `Sign Not In Use.`   Here`s one that caught my eye on a visit to my boyhood home at Hythe on the shores of Southampton Water.   Well, the surface looks pretty even to me but I guess it can get rough so, if you`re ever tempted to walk across Southampton Water to the Weston shore or Netley, just mind how you go.......

EXPANSION AND DECLINE..

To Southampton today to take my granddaughter to the University where she had to attend a lecture.   Whilst she was there, I took time once again to revisit my old boyhood village of Hythe on the western shore of Southampton Water.    Now the map extract above is clearly very old, but it does show Hythe when it was a real village with its High Street, its shops, post office, school, hotel and its famous pier from which the ferry plies its way to and from Southampton Town Quay.

And that`s how I remember Hythe when, as a boy over 60 years ago, I attended the village school and enjoyed the freedom of exploring the shoreline and the New Forest.   It was still a village then - my old school friend, the acclaimed and much missed poet William Scammell, calling it his `village by the sea.`   They were times when us boys held the village bobby in awe and with respect, we  knew the boundaries not only of the village but also of behaviour;  it seemed instilled in us and we accepted it as natural - just the way things were - and never imagined for one moment that the  restrictions of our formative years were anything to complain about, even if we were conscious of them to begin with.

But in my repeated visits over more recent years I have witnessed perhaps too many changes in my spiritual home.   For one thing, although Hythe retains the core of its now pedestrianised High Street, it`s a village no more, as expansion into new housing developments skirting the edge of the Forest has turned Hythe into something of a dormitory suburb of Southampton - and it seems to have lost much of its soul in the process.

The High Street itself, once bustling with just enough businesses to sustain themselves, seems in contrast to be in decline, as borne witness by the number of empty shops and the feeling almost of shabbiness that admittedly was not helped by the grey, gloomy January day.    All of which made for a depressing feeling that the decline I witnessed seems somehow in direct proportion to the expansion in size of my village by the sea.   It may be nothing unusual these days, for nothing is forever and, after all, the only constant thing in life is change.

I just wish some of those changes were for the better.

 A STRIKING DECLINE..

I read today that the hobby of stamp collecting is having a sticky time.   It seems the number belonging to Kidstamp - an organisation for young stamp collectors - has fallen from 100,000 in the 1990s to about 1,000 today, thanks to e-mails, texting and other forms of communication taking the place of snail mail.  

Which is a pity, since I have long believed that the pace of life is dictated largely by the speed of communication available.  For example, if over 100 years ago you sent a letter to Australia, then you could be pretty sure that you might get a reply some months later, whereas these days communication is just about instant, which can lead to instant decisions which are not always the best ones.

So I`m sorry to see the decline in stamp collecting and when I read about it this morning my mind went back 60 years or more to what, with 20-20 hindsight, seemed for me to be an idyllic boyhood at Hythe on the western shore of Southampton Water.  I recalled that in those days, in comics like the Hotspur or the Rover, there were always tempting advertisements inviting you to send a 1/6 postal order to some mysterious PO Box, in return for which you would receive a package containing `assorted postage stamps from across the Empire.`  

I squandered the odd 1/6  (7p) and so acquired not so much a collection, more a small gathering of stamps, but philately never really caught on in Hythe, as the rival attractions of phillumeny were more readily available.   The small boys of the village (there were about five of us) used to comb the shoreline at low tide, especially after the great liners had either arrived or just left Southampton Docks - the Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mary, the Unions Castle liners and many more.

Our prizes were empty matchboxes, tossed overboard from those passing ships and washed ashore at the waters edge along the obviously named Shore Road - round about here:-

 Shore Road, Hythe.

We built up quite a collection between us and all these years on I still have mine although the boxes have long since gone and just the labels remain, pressed into a scrapbook.  In fact, as my phillumeny progressed, I have some complete sets that have never appeared on boxes, including a set of about 50 large sized ones on rice paper depicting scenes from the Hokkaido Road in Japan.   But the most prized ones of all are those sea-washed and tar- stained from maritime destinations the world over - from South Africa thanks to the Union Castle ships, the USA, Scandinavia and even from Argentina.

I started off this ramble bemoaning the lack of interest in stamp collecting these days and I guess the same will happen to matchbox labels as smoking becomes more and more the territory of social outcasts and no-smoking zones are springing up everywhere, even, I imagine, on cruise ships.

In a wistful moment, I wondered whether my collection had any value and a quick gander at the Internet told me that, quite possibly, one or two of my treasures might fetch anything up to 70p at auction, which won`t change my life much, so they will remain as a tangible memory of those boyhood days when children were allowed to go off beachcombing without a health and safety care in the world.

IN GOOD COMPANY..

Another bit of self-indulgence, I`m afraid. Part of my day last Saturday - apart from going to the football and having a luxurious ferry crossing - was spent having a short walk around my old boyhood village of Hythe. A few years ago now, I had a hand in a plaque being put up to mark the birthplace of my old school friend, Billy Scammell, who died in 2000 but who achieved recognition as a distinguished poet, critic and biographer.

At the time of the talks with the Parish Council, who kindly funded the plaque, they said that they were keen to provide other plaques to commemorate people with a connection to the village. One of those can be seen in the photo above, which I took whilst standing outside Myrtle Cottage looking along the road to where our own cottage stood all those years ago. TE Lawrence (of Arabia) is reported to have enjoyed his time in Hythe, living in Myrtle Cottage, whilst working with the British Power Boat Company on the development of high speed launches and he and his family had other connections with the area.

Billy Scammell`s was the first in the series of plaques to be provided, with Lawrence`s put up on Myrtle Cottage in 2007. The Parish Council have plans to also provide plaques in memory of Sir Christopher Cockerill of hovercraft fame and also Richard Eurich, RA and if they wish to extend their programme then other notable local residents also include David Ellery - the author and ship historian, not the former football referee - and Bruce Parry, the adventurer and TV Presenter, who was born in Hythe in 1969.

For a small village sandwiched between the New Forest and Southampton Water it has a lot to interest the visitor and the Parish Council are to be commended for safeguarding its heritage. Must be something in the water...or in the air. So, Billy Scammell is in good company and quite right too. Oh and by the way, Myrtle Cottage is currently on the market for sale - yours for £350,000, complete with plaque.

WALKING THE PLANKS..

Self-indulgence alert!! Yes, I know, I`m not so much living in the past as reliving my carefree boyhood each time I go back to Hythe and retrace the steps of those times when life was simple, uncomplicated and above all, safe. Last Saturday, I drove down to Southampton for the football and just as I got to the outskirts of the city, the local radio told me that there were severe traffic problems in the city centre. I was also encouraged to give it a miss because the car park charges at Town Quay have doubled from last season. So, a mixture of avoiding the logjams and saving a few bob on car parking encouraged me to head for Hythe.

Knowing the village as I do, I knew where I could park safely and for free, so I made for Atheling Road and parked outside what used to be Michael ("Johnner") Curtis`s bungalow. Johnner emigrated to Canada years ago, but about ten years ago, I was having lunch in John Madgwick`s fish and chip emporium when in walked Johnner. I hadn`t seen him since our schooldays 60 years ago now and he just happened to be back home visiting his Mum in her Atheling Road bungalow. Having parked, I wandered down to the pier and bought my senior citizen`s return ticket for the ferry - much cheaper than the Town Quay car park - to take me across to Town Quay.

Hythe Pier and Hythe Ferry go back a long way - it was shown on Christopher Saxton`s map of 1575 - although the present pier, 700 hundred yards long, was completed in 1880 and it wasn`t until 1922 that the little train which runs along the pier came into service. It might be a delightful ride, albeit perilously close to the edge, but I always prefer to walk the planks for the whole length of the pier. On the way out to the pier head, from where the ferry leaves , you get the blast of wind from the Solent......

"where the wind off the Solent

flattens one side of you like a plank.."

(William Scammell.

`First Sailing`)

......and you see before you the panorama of Southampton Water, from Fawley and Hamble, to Netley, the Weston Shore and finally Southampton Docks, on Saturday blessed by the visit of three huge cruise liners. The ferry itself sailed very close to the Ventura and it was just like looking up at a block of apartments, like a floating Ocean Village.

But for me, in my wistful moments, the return walk back to the shoreline from the pierhead is one to savour. The little train shunts its way past me, carrying those in more of a hurry than me and I see my first school on the rise above the village. To the west of the pier, the shoreline is much as it was all those years ago with the shipyard, the backs of the shops in the High Street and the sea wall where our back garden ended. To the east is Hythe Marina Village, all neat and modern, all boats and sails, on recalimed land where once cattle used to graze the mudbanks of West Street. As I near the end of the pier, the wind abates but I feel revived from its salt and seaborne tang.

I make my way back to Atheling Road, quite expecting Johnner`s Mum to be in her garden as she always was but, sadly, like John Madgwick`s fish and chip emporium and like my own mother, Johnner`s Mum is long gone too. I take my leave and head off on the 120 mile journey home. But on Saturday week I`ll do it all again and, just like writing this, I know I will feel all the better for it.

Self-indulgence alert over! Normal service may be resumed.....whatever normal might be.

SOMETHING IN THE WATER...

The sun sets behind Hythe Pier, as the little train meanders its erratic way from the shore to the pier head where the ferry leaves for Southampton and the waves of Southampton Water lap gently in the evening breeze.

Hythe has a few claims to fame. The inventor of the hovercraft, Sir Christopher Cockerill, lived and died in Hythe. T. E. Lawrence (of Arabia) lived in the village from 1931 to 1932. He was then known as T. E. Shaw and he lodged in Myrtle Cottage at the junction of St John Street and Shore Road. My old school friend, William Scammell, a leading UK poet, critic and biographer, was born in Hythe in 1939. The author and ship historian, David Ellery, is based at Hythe. The adventurer and TV Presenter, Bruce Parry, was born 17 March 1969, in Hythe and, of course, the reknowned blogger, golfing fantasist and former midfield dynamo, Snopper, spent his boyhood days in that village between the forest and the sea.

And it`s high time that the name of Michael Scammell, William`s brother, was added to the list. I always remember Mike being sent down from the Scammell household in Alexandra Road to retrieve William ("Billy") who spent many happy hours with me playing at the bottom of our garden where the tide lapped in twice a day and we watched the great ocean liners as they came and went to and from all parts of the world. Mike was educated at Nottingham University and obtained his doctorate at New York`s Columbia University, where he is professor of creative writing and the translation of slavic languages. He has just published his long awaited biography of Arthur Koestler, which has been hailed by the Washington Times thus:-

"It takes talent to write about someone else's interesting life in a book that is interesting itself. The biographer would have to be, say, an author, scholar and translator. Such a person could write a biography about an intellectual polyglot, polymath, "journalist, novelist, essayist, autobiographer, and writer of scientific speculations" — and Casanova.
Michael Scammell is such a biographer. His new book on Arthur Koestler (1905-1983) took two decades to complete. He has flushed out details that Koestler himself left out — in some half dozen autobiographies. He shares Koestler's long, convoluted life in a thoroughly enjoyable read. The British-born Mr. Scammell comes with top credentials. Currently, he teaches creative writing and translation at Columbia University. Previously, he chaired the Russian literature department at Cornell. His Solzhenitsyn biography won the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and English PEN Nonfiction Prize. Translations from Russian include Nabokov, Dostoevsky, and Tolstoy."

I confess to having badgered the Parish Council in Hythe to start a programme of `blue plaques` to commemorate leading figures associated with Hythe. There are already plaques for Sir Christopher Cockerill, Lawrence and Billy Scammell, so I may have to start badgering again to give Mike the recognition he deserves locally.

One thing`s for sure. They won`t be putting up a plaque for me, especially as the house I lived in has long been demolished and since even I would doubt the legitimacy of a plaque to commemorate a former box to box midfielder with a good engine and an eye for a pass. But there must be something in the Southampton Water for such an abundance of other local talent to emerge.

For more on Mike Scammell, please see http://michaelscammell.com/

ALL CHANGE...

On my way to Southampton on Saturday (Saints 2 - Stockport County 0) I once again paid a visit to my boyhood village, Hythe, which sits between the shore of Southampton Water and the New Forest. I paid my respects to my late mother`s resting place and had a walk around those familiar surroundings.

The picture (click on it for a larger image) shows Hythe`s High Street, which has seen many changes over the years but whose landscape is much the same, except perhaps for the introduction of a Waitrose supermarket at its far end, on the site of what was a large house, the Villa Amalthea. One other noticeable change has been the pedestrianisation of the High Street, but the shops are still there and the Lord Nelson pub. What`s happened of course is that the shops had all changed hands over the years with the exception of Madgwick`s Fish and Chip shop.

I went to Hythe Primary School with John Madgwick, whose parents ran the fish shop and John inherited the business and kept it going until he retired a few years ago. He installed a manager to run the shop for him so he could spend his days pottering in his bungalow garden in School Lane. On Saturday, I noticed that the shop sign no longer said ER Madgwick and Son and it was obvious that John`s interest in the shop has finally come to an end.

John and I also went to school there with William Scammell, who went on to become a leading poet, critic and biographer. In one of his books, Five Easy Pieces, John was thinly disguised as Dabwick, as `Billy` Scammell, as he was known to us, recalled his own boyhood days in that `village by the sea.`

"If you wrestled with Dabwick, the fishmonger`s son, you got beaten twice, once by his weight and forever by oil of herring and cod. He was the first among us to have a real job - in the shop, of course, - a fisher of housewives - and treated himself liberally to cigarettes and beer on his wages. In the Lord Nelson, whose back bar looked out across Southampton Water to the leviathans of P & O, Cunard, the Castle Line, he escaped from the cruelty of classmates. He took to wearing terrific brogues at one end of him and a checked cap at the other and became a globe with interesting poles, vanishing into the promised land of grown-ups."

Of course, the only constant thing in life is change, but I was sorry to see that the last of those familiar High Street shop signs has finally disappeared. Billy Scammell sadly left us ten years ago but I hope John is still in his School Lane bungalow and still getting his daily cod and chips. Next time I`m there, I`ll find out, even though with some trepidation.

SEA CHANGE

In my boyhood days at Hythe on the western shore of Southampton Water, I used to spend a lot of my time sitting just where this picture was taken from. At the bottom of what was then our back garden, there was a sea wall and just out to sea - where the new apartment block is now - were the large, black hangars used for the maintenance of BOAC`s flying boats.

In those days, in the late 40s and early 50s, Southampton Water was always busy with the big passenger ships coming in and out of Southampton Docks - the Union Castle liners, the Lusitania, Mauritania and the Queens; the Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary both majestic and unforgettable. I used to sit there and watch the bows of one or other of those two great ships nudge its way into view from behind the hangar. The rest of the ship would take its time to come into full view, seemingly filling the skyine with its huge elegance. They were lovely ships, the original Queens. Elizabeth was the larger of the two but Queen Mary was my favourite, with her flowing lines and three funnels.

The first Queen Mary

Queen Mary is now replaced, of course, by Queen Mary 2 and the original Queen Elizabeth was replaced by the QE2 which last evening bid her own goodbye to her home port before heading off to Dubai to become, like her sister ship, a floating hotel. QE2 was given a memorable send -off last evening as she pulled away for the last time en route to her final destination, a fitting tribute for a ship which had docked 726 times alongside her own Southampton terminal.

It`s 60 years ago since I used to sit on that sea wall and these days, when I go back to Hythe and take in that view once more, the great liners are, of course, few and far between, having been taken over by the cruise ships which, whilst impressive for their size and their design, somehow lack the elegance and style of those ships of long ago. Now also, there are the mammoth container ships, in and out of the Millbrook container port, which have no pretensions of elegance but nonetheless manage to possess a certain presence about them. You wouldn`t argue with them, that`s for sure.

QE2 bids farewell

Things change, of course and the march of time goes on. But, as with the original Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary, this latest farewell to another great liner left me with more than a tinge of sadness not only at the memories of the ships of my youth but also the passing of time itself. It sure does fly. The ships may come and go, but their wash and the waves of Southampton Water will still lap upon that friendly shore which I still call `home.`

SOMETHING STIRS....

My boyhood village of Hythe on Southampton Water stands `between the forest and the sea.` The sea is, of course, the Solent and the forest is the New Forest. In the early days of post-war Britain, it would be hard to imagine a more interesting, exciting choice of venue to grow up in with the waves of the Solent lapping at the bottom of our garden and with the forest on our doorstep too.
I spent many happy, formative days exploring its heathland, streams, woods and glades. Our boyhood days in the forest were captured by Bill Scammell in his poem `Green over Blue` -

The second coming

if there was to be one

took the form of wave or leaf

or swimmable New Forest streams,

a fallen log across

that clear and meditative face.

What can be done with a tree

but climb it? And a rusty yew

that won`t turn into Robin`s bow

or bend across a naked knee,

with hazel arrows, hard to fledge,

cut green and perfect from the hedge?

Boyhood days indeed. The Forest has a long, intriguing and unique history, from its establishment by William the Conqueror as his `Nova Foresta`in 1079 through to the present day. It is nationally important for its flora and fauna but it is perhaps the way in which the Forest has been governed over the centuries that is most telling. It has almost wholly been Crown land and even today, 98% of the Forest is still owned by the Crown.

But the rights of the commoners (turbary, pannage, estovers, marl etc.) by which the people of the Forest have maintained their way of life have been guarded by the Court of Verderers from their offices in Lyndhurst, the acknowledged `capital` of the Forest, whilst the Agisters have looked after the welfare and management of the Forest animals.

These days, whilst those traditional forms of `authority` are thankfully still in business, there is also the Forestry Commission, with responsibilites for the good management of the Forest and, of course, the usual suspects of Parish, District and County council. But more recently, yet another form of authority has arrived on the scene - the unelected National Park Authority. And it is this outfit that is the cause of `down in the Forest something stirs.`

All roads led to Wilverley Plain, near Brockenhurst, on Saturday as the Forest staged one of the biggest protests the area has ever seen. An estimated 2,000 protesters staged a demonstration to show their anger at proposals they claim would destroy their way of life.

The massive show of strength was organised by the newly formed pressure group Forest Uprising, which is battling ideas put forward by the New Forest National Park Authority. These ideas, forming part of the Park Authority`s 370-page long Recreation Management Plan, include creating `dog-free` car parks in the Forest, introducing yet more stringent restrictions on equestrian activities and charging motorists to use the Forest roads. All of which is severely miffing the British Horse Society, the New Forest Tourism Board, local MPs, local councils, residents and businesses. Just about enyone, in fact, who lives, works or visits the Forest for whatever reason.

Now, it may be that the fledgling National Park Authority is trying to `establish` itself; or it may be that it truly believes its proposals to be in the best interests of the Forest. Either way, it is perceived to be more concerned with the geography of its area of operation (shown in green above) than with the people who live and work in it. Over the centuries, the Verderers, the Agisters, the locally elected councils have all had a part to play in the life of the Forest but the new National Park Authority - perhaps because it is unelected - is struggling to find acceptance and credibility among the local people. And after more than 900 years, maybe their voice should be listened to a little more carefully.

A BRIGHTER OUTLOOK...

Back in October (see label below) I reported on the devastating fire in my boyhood village, which caused extensive damage to one of the country`s most historic naval vessels, HMS Medusa (pictured.)

Experts and a team of dedicated restorers had feared for the future of the former gunboat when fire ripped through the workshop in Hythe. The vessel was in the middle of a top-to-toe refurbishment when the flames took hold. Priceless engines and pieces of furniture have gone forever, but the vessel has been saved.

A £1m Heritage Lottery funded project to restore the ship and return her to public display on the Solent's waters is now back in full swing at Hythe Ship Yard. Medusa will be back to her former glory by the end of the year. It has taken weeks for volunteers on the project to sift through the remains of the building and salvage anything worth saving.

Medusa's three original engines - including the two main engines that weighed 3.5 tons each - that were nearly fully refurbished were badly damaged. One was destroyed beyond repair and the other two are being rebuilt at a cost of £70,000 to £80,000. Original furniture from inside the ship, along with period timber and countless fittings also went up in flames last October.

When Medusa is restored to her former glory, there will be a rededication ceremony in Poole, where she was first built. She will then return to her Southampton base and will take visitors onboard to teach them about life during the Second World War.

AN `INTERESTING` DAY

The plaque above - and the words shown on the plaque - seem nicely to sum up my day yesterday. I made my usual pilgrimage to Southampton to watch Saints take on Preston North End - one of the founder members of the Football League and a club with a proud tradition but one which has not seen too much success in recent years. (Where have I heard that before?)

It was a decent game and seemed to be heading towards a 0-0 draw until the 90th minute when, for the fourth time this season, Saints conceded a late goal to snatch defeat from the jaws of stalemate. No complaints - just one of those things - so again I shrugged my shoulders, took it on the chin, drew a line in the sand and moved on at the end of the day....it`s what Saints fans are used to doing.

Earlier in the day, the traffic allowing, I paid another visit to Hythe - the village on the shores of Southampton Water where I spent much of my boyhood. I had had a Christmas card earlier in the week from a friend of mine who lives in the nearby village of Dibden and he told me that Hythe and Dibden Parish Council had now produced the second in a series of four or five blue plaques to commemorate well-known people who had had connections with the area.

(Myrtle Cottage - click on photo to enlarge)

The first plaque had been put up a couple of years ago in recognition of my old school friend, William Scammell, the poet, who was born in Hythe. The second plaque has now been erected on the front wall of Myrtle Cottage in Shore Road , pictured above, which is where TE Lawrence (of Arabia) lived whilst he was working on the development of high speed torpedo boats at the nearby yard owned and managed by the British Power Boat Company.

Lawrence kind of flicked across my memory, not just for who he was or that Myrtle Cottage was about 50 yards from the cottage where we lived in Hythe but also because I have a photograph of Lawrence`s funeral in Dorset, with my father prominently shown in the group of mourners paying their final respects.

Lawrence looks just a tad grumpy in this photograph of him - maybe Myrtle Cottage didn`t quite come up to his expectations or - more likely - he was just as fed up with Saints conceding last minute goals in the 1930s as I was yesterday. C`est la vie.

STILL WATERS - STILL RUNNING DEEP

Yesterday turned out to be one of those good days. A three hour drive to Southampton, meeting up with good friends, enjoying an excellent performance by Saints FC (more on that story later)....and then on to keep a very special evening appointment.

You see, yesterday was my mother`s birthday. Had she lived, she would have been 95. As it is, she passed away five years ago and her ashes reside in a special place where we used to live.

So, after the football, I drove the few miles down the western shore of Southampton Water, through the waterside villages, to Hythe, where we lived all those years ago and where my mother had her happiest times. At the bottom of what used to be our back garden, there is still a large oak tree which has survived all kinds of changes and `development` around it across half a century. And, in recognition of those happy family days, my mother`s ashes are, quite unofficially and probably illegally, scatterred around the base of that sturdy oak.

So I bought some flowers, had a chat with her and spent some time taking in the peace and stillness of the view across to Netley as the timeless tides of Southampton Water kissed that friendly shore on a beautiful, late summer evening.

And then the long, contemplative drive home after a very special day indeed.

A DOUBLE WHAMMY

When I was about ten years old, I suffered perhaps the first double whammy of my fledging life.....always accepting, of course, that being born six weeks before the outbreak of WW II is not whammy enough.

At the time of these particular episodes, we lived at Hythe on the shores of Southampton Water, where my father worked for BOAC at their flying boat maintenance base.

One day I was taken along to see a brand new flying boat, which had been moored alongside the maintenance apron, which we could see quite clearly from the end of our back garden. I can`t recall which particular flying boat it was - may even have been the one shown above. As part of the `celebrations` I was handed my very first glass of champagne. "Here you are, small boy," said the very proper stewardess in her BOAC uniform, "try this. It`s only apple juice - won`t hurt you."

So, down it went....and very quickly came up again. It tasted exactly like she said - fizzy apple juice - and from that experience, I have only ever enjoyed the odd quaff and never become much of an enthusiast. Cheers anyway:-

A year or two before that event, my father thought it was time I learned to swim, so he taught me by invoking the time-honoured method of taking me to the edge of the maintenance apron....and throwing me into Southampton Water! Sink or swim time - I swam alright. Fortunately for me, the tide was in at the time and no flying boats were in the vicinity.

(click to enlarge)

BOAC (British Overseas Airways Corporation) became British Airways, but the flying boat operation is long gone and the location of my early whammies is now a housing development whose opening no doubt saw the champagne flow once more, but these days small boys tend not to be thrown in the deep end.

SNOPPER`S CLAIMS TO FAME - PART ONE

For the first in what may prove to be a limited series, I want to take you back quite a few years - to the development of the Hovercraft and to a cottage by the sea.

When my father returned home in 1945 from spending five years in a German Prisoner of War camp, he got a job with the then BOAC, later to become British Airways. At the time, BOAC ran a fleet of flying boats and they had their maintenance base at Hythe on the western shore of Southampton Water.

The job had a cottage which went with it - one of a pair of semi-detached cottages named Grove Cottages, originally built in 1735. In the interests of brevity, I will not bore you with the quaintness of the cottage layout, but it did have a rear garden which reached down to the sea wall, where the waves of the twice-a-day Solent tides would lap in a language all their own. Sadly, the BOAC flying boat service was withdrawn in the early 1950s and with it went my father`s job and with it went our cottage.

Circumstances forced us to move from that `village by the sea` and start life elsewhere.....but it`s what happened to the cottage that gives rise to this particular `claim to fame.` Some time after we left, the site was taken over, the cottages were demolished and the site was used to construct the test tanks for Sir Christopher Cockerill`s development of his hovercraft invention. The development work was, of course, highly successful and led to the growth and spread of the hovercraft industry world-wide.

Some years later, the site of Grove Cottages was redeveloped once more, this time by the construction of a small, rather pleasant residential development, which was quite properly named Sir Christopher Court. Due to an odd configuration of the layout and, I suspect, the land ownership, not all of the site of our old back garden was included in the housing development and it is still possible to walk through a little public park, where there is a memorial to Sir Christopher, down to the same sea wall and look out across Southampton Water to the Weston shore (see photo at top and click on photo for enlarged image to read the inscription on the memorial.)

The big difference for me is that whereas when I was a boy, spending hours gazing in fascination at the huge liners - Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mary, the Union Castle liners - as they eased their way towards Southampton Docks from behind the flying boat maintenance hangars, nowadays the liners are fewer in number, superceded by cruise liners and container ships heading for Millbrook Container Terminal, and the view is not one of maintenance hangars any more, but of yet more housing development which has taken place on the site of that maintenance base from all those years ago.

Heart to heart

I spent a very happy boyhood at Hythe, on the western shore of Southampton Water. In those days - the `40s and `50s - Hythe was a small `village by the sea` with distinct boundaries, beyond which we seldom strayed. When we did, it was to visit the New Forest or, more often, Southampton - maybe for a bit of shopping, or just to make a change....or maybe to go and watch Southampton FC (`The Saints`) play at The Dell.

Southampton and Hythe were - and still are - linked by a wonderful ferry service, which plies between Southampton`s Town Quay and the pierhead at Hythe. I still go and watch The Saints play at their sparkling new stadium (St. Mary`s) despite living in Kent. I often choose to drive to Hythe, park there and get the ferry over rather than struggle through Southampton`s traffic. Of course, going back to Hythe may be to try and recapture those boyhood memories, when life may have been a bit austere but was safe and secure in that enveloping small community, but there are other more compelling reasons for my pilgrimages.

Hythe has changed a lot - perhaps too much - and is now a bit of a sprawl of commuter estates which have sprung up beyond the boundaries we used to obey. But the centre of the village - it`s heart and its soul - remain; improved if anything from how it was all those years ago, with an `atmospheric` pedestrianised High Street and, just completed, a new promenade overlooking the ever changing seascape.

I love my football - I love my days going to St. Mary`s - and I love going back to my boyhood roots. The ferry is the link between the two and has been for all these years, the same journey, the same timetable, the same sea-smell in the air, the same Solent breezes, the same `feel.` Safe and sound once more. The ferry takes me from one of my personal havens to another - truly a heart to heart journey.