SCA Newsletter Christmas 2014

The Shuttleworth College Association Newsletter Christmas 2014

Contents

1. Chairman’s & Editor’s reports 2. College Director’s report 3. SCA prize draw advert

4. Members news

5. Farmers Weekly – Farm Employer of the Year: Robert Barnes

6. Bueno Camino – A Spanish walking holiday by Peter Hares

7. The Refurbished Swiss Gardens

8. “Never marry a woman who likes hats”... by David Lucas

9. Objects of desire – Graeme Brown’s old flask! 10. Round Norfolk relay race – Sally Cartwright 11. Alaskan adventure – Howard Barber’s life after Shutts 12. Trip of a lifetime – Tim Bryce’s summer on the boat 13. For sale: SCA Merchandise 14. Obituaries: John Lye Past lecturer

Bernard Cale (65/67)

15. Shuttleworth College courses – advertisement 16. SCA Committee – names and contact details

Hover over a heading and click the ‘link’ icon underneath to skip forward to that

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To reply to this Newsletter with your comments and feedback please click here

Sarah Perrett (77/80)

Tim Bryce (65/67)

Chairman’s report What is the difference between SCA and the SCA? Well, one is a leading global hygiene company that develops and produces sustainable personal care, tissue and forest products, and the other is an organisation whose roles are to help former students from Shuttleworth maintain contact, and to use its resources to help current students. I only came across the ‘other SCA’ when I opened the Daily Telegraph Weekend section and was amazed to see some magnificent photographs of a large graceful ocean going yacht with SCA emblazoned on the side and the sails. It is an all-female entry into the Volvo Round the World yacht race, whose crew are currently battling their way through the mighty Southern Ocean aboard the Team SCA yacht heading towards Cape Town. Now we don’t sponsor such things as oceangoing yachts. Oh I wish we could: if you come up with a brilliant money-earning idea we might give it some thought. But we do help students at the College. The Association is actively working with the College to help students with expensive exam fees that the College can no longer pay for and the students cannot afford. Most of the external exams, such as those for the rough terrain forklift or the chainsaw course, are not funded by the College so the SCA is paying them instead. This allows about 25 students to achieve a useful extra skill/exam to take with them when they leave College. We have also purchased a large information screen, which is sited in the Machinery Centre providing rolling information for the current students and visitors alike. This may not be quite the same as an oceangoing yacht but we had to start somewhere. Editor/Coordinator’s report Times are a changing! Officially I am now no longer the ‘Editor’ but the ‘Coordinator’. All the members of our Committee are now working alongside me as ‘Correspondents’ or ‘Assistant Editors’. It should certainly lighten the load for me personally, but my hope is that someone will eventually come forward to succeed me, knowing that the workload is now within the grasp of any normal mortal. The biggest part of the job in producing any magazine is sourcing material for publication. This involves keeping eyes and ears open, contacting people and persuading them to contribute items of news and send in their stories. I constantly remind people that everyone has a story to tell and we all like to read about what people are doing or have been doing. You, our members, are spread right across the country and only by you telling us what is going on in your lives will we ever find out, or be able to publish those facts.

If you like reading about your friends and contemporaries, why not write to us about what you think they may be interested in hearing about you? I hope you enjoy what we have pulled together this time. Howard Barber (66/68) has contributed a fascinating story about a sizable proportion of his life since leaving College. It is long, but well worth reading, and he even tells us he has ‘Part 2’ available for another occasion. I have spent the whole summer on my boat travelling from Banbury, all round the north of England and even as far as Ripon in Yorkshire. You can read my story within these pages.

If you would like to contribute an article to the newsletter, or have any feedback, please click here or email [email protected] with

your comments

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The new academic year has started well. Tutors tell me that the students are settling in. However, there are a few students, particularly at the lower levels, who are struggling to make the transition from school to College. Recruitment has been fabulous once again: full-time numbers are up to 601 Further Education enrolments, which is great news as this is the core of the business and is an increase of 5% on last year. More encouraging has been the stronger recruitment of 19+ full-time adult learners, where numbers are significantly higher with 112 learners, which is 10% up on last year. While there has been a shift in recruitment against specific topics, the numbers have served to consolidate all of our areas of activity which leads to a much more balanced economy. Recruitment in Horticulture and Floristry has been much more positive and we have had to put on additional classes in Floristry. The quality of our teaching and resources is very strong and our competitor colleges have reduced their provision, which has been to our advantage. Animal Care recruitment has once again been fantastic and we have in the region of 140 Level 3 Year 1 students, which is a very strong cohort and has taken quite a bit of managing from a timetabling, rooming and staffing point of view. We think that the strong recruitment reflects the improving reputation of the College both locally and regionally. Part-time short courses and horticultural courses are looking very encouraging. We currently have 60 students studying RHS courses, which is a marked improvement on our position of three years ago. Our commercial and bespoke programme short course unit is thriving. We have now become an independent assessment centre, which has removed the variable quality of teaching and assessment, and enables us to focus on a high quality outcome. Short course bookings are very much stronger, particularly in woodland management, chainsaw use and the use of pesticides. All these courses and qualifications have been identified as critical to employment. The College is very grateful for the access to the woodlands, which has enabled us to deliver a very high quality course. The College’s reputation for this work has been re-established as we have created new teams and devised new courses which are proving to be attractive to employers and individuals. Recruitment onto the Foundation Degree in Animal Management has been fantastic and is back in line with original plans, with 23 starts in Year 1. The top-up year has recruited its first cohort of eight students and we think the energy that has gone into developing HE is really paying off. I have been in discussions with the University of Bedfordshire to extend the offer to include Event Management and Agriculture, as well as revisions to the top-up degree in line with our research of students and industry needs, and I am encouraged by their responses. Since January 2012 we have worked hard at developing our employer responsive curriculum, particularly work-based learning programmes and apprenticeships. We currently have 33 students on programmes, with the vast majority of the activity around golf courses, amenity horticulture, agriculture and countryside. We have also been contracted to deliver bespoke courses to the RSPB in Animal Welfare and Handling throughout the country. We had a very successful programme for African farmers in partnership with the Marshal Papworth Trust and have been invited to meet with the charity Farm Africa to devise a course that is going to fit in with their objectives.

Shuttleworth Executive Director’s report to Shuttleworth College/Trust Liaison

Committee October 2014

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Last year’s overall student success rate was very good: the teams have worked hard on their plans to improve performance on the previous year. The overall success rate on long qualifications was 87% compared to the national benchmark of 81.2%. However, it has dropped from the previous outstanding year of 89% and this reflects a lack of consistency across the programmes, and is our core action plan for the year. The rules of assessment have changed this year and success is likely to be much harder to achieve. Along with English and Maths, this is likely to be our biggest challenge in the coming year. The College is responding to the government’s directive and condition of funding to ensure that all students achieve a grade C in GCSE English and Maths. Our students come to college with a range of English and Maths skills and it is a real challenge to ensure that they get onto the right programme to enable them to progress and develop their skills. I am more positive about school student numbers (14-16 year olds), which have remained broadly the same as last year. Enrolments are across the range of our courses, particularly in Agriculture, Animal Care and Equine. However, students are coming from the larger and more successful schools and the smaller schools have withdrawn their provision. As school funding becomes tighter we must anticipate that this provision is at risk. The College is continuing to invest in the student experience and facilities at Shuttleworth, with the provision of temporary office and classroom space at Kingshill, developing a new and improved restaurant facility and coffee bar, and the provision of an upgraded e-learning drop-in facility to enhance students’ independent learning skills in preparation for progression to Higher Education. The Leonardo Programme, linking Shuttleworth with a European-wide project, has brought additional benefit to Shuttleworth students. Fisheries students have been invited to carry out an appraisal and review of the fish stocks in Lac de Villedon, France, which was one of the centres of activity last year. This is a fabulous opportunity for them to develop skills and international relationships. They have also been invited to engage in Nash’s new lake and commercial development in Royston. The College Farm has been excellent resource for student learning. We have had a very good harvest this year and have already cultivated most of the winter land and have planted the winter crops. Of course, with farming, a good year generally means lower prices, and we will struggle to achieve our budget. We planted a successful spring crop on the land behind the reservoir and students will benefit by bringing this into the cropping area. The cattle are looking very well indeed. We now have a herd of 25 mature Red Poll cows, which are due to calve in the spring. There are real pressures this year because of the lack of winter accommodation and we are having to get rid of our growing cattle and will have to find another solution to give students an experience of beef cattle. It is vital that we provide better accommodation to enable students to get a proper agricultural and educational experience. We are very pleased with the continuing relationship with Dan Osborn, who provides 300 breeding sheep on the Parkland and lambing in the Spring term, which enables the students to have a realistic and valuable commercial experience. Our relationship with CASE International Harvester has continued to improve, as we have delivered in the region of 200 training places to machine operators in the last year and have increased the range of programmes to include combines, precision self-steer power units and materials handling. We are also developing a beneficial relationship with Stihl chainsaws and equipment, which is bringing additional resource to our students.

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We have been particularly pleased with the improved working relationships with the Visitor Attraction team and the College staff following the completion of the Swiss Garden project. I am delighted that the Trust has taken on two apprentices and has provided additional opportunities for horticultural students and our international relationships with a college in Norway, where two students have been enabled to benefit from a three-week work placement. Animal Care continues to be our very high-performing area of activity and we are very keen, in partnership with the Visitor Attraction Centre, to develop a facility within the Shrubbery which is much more customer-focused with a range of qualifications reflecting work in business, to run alongside the care of the animals. We believe this will enhance graduates’ employment opportunities and lead to a much improved student experience. Mike Johnston Executive Director.

THE

S.C.A.

Annual

Prize Draw Your chance of winning a BIG Prize

Every year at the AGM we draw 3 Prizes

1st £250.00, 2nd £150.00, 3rd £50.00

Cost is just £10 per Annum and you can buy as many tickets as you wish.

Details and entries from Mike Williams: E-mail [email protected]

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Members news David Maxfield’s report from his year (53/55) reads: Colin Spencer: Colin continues to keep well up in Yorkshire with his wife Doreen and their dogs, which keep them busy going for walks. Their son is still in Iowa USA. Chris Satow: I spoke to Chris recently on the telephone. He tells me he continues to keep well, living in Devon with his brother David; like us all he is getting no younger, wondering where the years have all gone to! Alan Marshall: Alan keeps well with his wife Judith near Doncaster. He tells me his huge garden is becoming ever increasingly like a forest – trees growing quicker than he can control them. His bees have had a very successful year as have most beekeepers. Alan is convinced his garden gets bigger day by day! Mike Hodge: Mike keeps well in Norwich. He tells me he has had the best season ever with his veg garden, not having to resort to irrigation on his Norfolk sand as he does usually. Mike is still able to enjoy his walking round the Norfolk countryside with his daughter regularly, his son Nigel who also lives in Norfolk, doing the driving. David Maxfield, like us all, is wondering where the years have gone to. I keep well with my dear wife, Barbara. I celebrated my 80th birthday on October 9th when we all met up as a family for dinner in Horncastle. I continue to enjoy walking in our lovely countryside where we are surrounded by three private estates with Fallow deer roaming the parks. We all continue to affectionately recall our special years at Shuttleworth. From the Eastern Daily Press I see that Guy Kiddy (77/80) and his family have been winning prizes with their pigs at the Wayland show. They achieved Champion of Champions with their Hampshire Coloured Pig. From Tony Ducker (59/61) Langworth, Lincoln: It was a pleasant surprise to return from holiday to find the Annual Prize Draw cheque waiting for me. Thank you and all the hard working committee of the SCA, not only for the cheque, of course, but for all you continue to do to ensure the success of the Association. I was an NDA student on the 1959/61 course and during that time resided at Home Farm with Mr & Mrs Bennett. My room colleagues were Bob Bevour and Maurice Foot; Colin Bothway, John Ginns and Tim Godfrey were in some of the other rooms at Home Farm. On leaving college my intention to go back to practical farming was derailed when Ken Russell suggested I apply for a lecturing post at Riseholme Farm Institute in the then-county of Lindsey, Lincolnshire. This seemed the chance to have an interesting ‘gap’ year or two, and I was successful in being offered the post of Extra Mural Lecturer in Agriculture – 38 years later I took an early retirement package! During the spring terms of 1965 and 66 I was seconded to the Technical Teachers Training College at Wolverhampton to gain a Certificate in Education, and I was also given ‘time off’ to train and carry out the role of cereal seed crop check inspector for NIAB. When the Riseholme and the Caythorpe (Kesteven) Agricultural Colleges merged, Brian Jacklin became a work colleague. Those on the 59/61 course will remember Brian, if only for those horrendous purple hand-outs and practical worksheets. (I have a copy of part of one of these worksheets that I recently found in the loft – if anyone wants to complete the question sheet I do have the remaining 28 questions!!)

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Since retiring I keep myself amused by helping some friends with their computer software problems, working in our fairly large garden and playing the occasional round of scenic golf – that’s like normal golf but you visit all the rough areas, trees and water hazards on the way round! Thanks again to you all and my best wishes to all those who shared the 59/61 Shuttleworth experience with me. Tony Ducker (59/61) Richard Hirst (80/83) The weather this year provided ideal growing conditions for maize, with most crops attaining a greater height than last year. Richard turned his crop into a maize maze to provide a popular visitor attraction on his farm near Hemsby when it opened in July. Ashley Cooper (71/72) Ashley of Hill Farm, Gestingthorpe, Essex won the FWAG Silver Lapwing Farming and Conservation Award. He was one of four finalists. Ashley is committed to producing high quality arable crops at the same time protecting and enhancing habitats and species on his 280ha farm. He has restored hedgerows and improved existing ones by sympathetic cutting. Ashley also works with groups of schoolchildren, showing them the process of growing food and maintaining and enhancing the countryside. Nick Youngs (79/81) Nick and his son Tom were spotted among the guests at the opening of a new sports pavilion at Gresham’s School, Holt. Both were former students and enjoyed considerable success on the Rugby field. Nick won six England caps in the early 1980s and was playing international rugby whilst at college. Tom is currently playing alongside his younger brother Ben for Leicester Tigers and England. Teddy Maufe (70/71) Earlier this year Teddy was one of around 180 farmers invited by Grain Merchants Robin Appel to highlight why West Norfolk is the finest region in the UK for growing malting barley. Teddy and his wife Sally diversified in 2004 when they set up their Real Ale Shop at Branthill Farm on the Holkham Estate. At the time there were only 6 micro-brewers in the whole of Norfolk. Now there are 16 micro-brewers ales on sale in the shop and over 20 brewers in the county. The shop now boasts more than 60 different ales. Teddy’s winter sown Maris Otter, which is regarded as one of the best varieties in the world by many in the industry, is used by local brewers to produce real ales which are then sold on the farm where it was grown, completing the cycle. The Real Ale Shop has tapped into a wonderful heritage and last year added a micro-maltings to show the public the malting process. Out and About with Spiny Norman (Graeme Brown (77/80) ) On my travels I have bumped into the following with varying degrees of regularity: John Croxford (HND 78/81) – back at Rectory Farm after a sojourn in France. Now married to Fiona, his son William (at Shutts 2007) is now in the renewables industry; daughter Alice is studying to be a vet.

J.C. Helliwell (OND 72/75) seems to spend most of his time ferrying livestock around the Wootton (Beds) area – not certain if they belong to him or his son, but it keeps the pair of them busy! David Jarman (OND 76/79) is still at A.T.Olivers; he came to peruse the machinery that I had looked after for the last 27 years being sold off at auction.

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Terry Young (OND 76/79) is another peruser, which is what you would expect from a machinery dealer. He also farms some of the Whitbread Estate. Robert Barnes (FC 85-86) – heavily involved with the running of the family's successful and innovative contracting business (L.E.Barnes & Sons). Mark Butcher (OND 77-80) – don't get to see much of him, as he lives on Prince Edward Isle, Canada. He and Margaret run Phoenix Agricultural Services, specialising in potato agronomy (all 12,000-odd acres of them). His son Joshua is a city planner and daughter Charlotte is studying at Dalhousie University (Canada's Oxford/Cambridge) Stephen Hobbs (OND 77-80) lives just down the road from me at North Crawley – he has given up the dairy herd and contracted out the arable side of the farm in order to concentrate on the suckler herd and connecting with people on LinkedIn. His wife Helen runs a successful pre-school nursery. Their daughter Rebecca is a London-based events manager, son Tom works at Centre Parcs, Woburn, and youngest son Peter(?) is in his 2nd year at Reaseheath College. Graeme Brown (OND 77-80) – when I called Steve Hobbs a few years ago the call was politely taken by one of his young sons; I asked to speak to his father and told him my name – silence, and then I heard a small, very worried voice saying "Daddy, there's a man here called Spiny Norman". I bet he was even more worried by the fact that his father actually knew someone called Spiny Norman – poor kid! I have been living at Wood Farm for the last 27 years with my wife Pat, three children and varying numbers of dogs (three at the moment). Pat is Compliance Officer for the Office of the Police and Crime Commissioner for Bedfordshire; daughter Hannah, now Mrs Kennedy, is an archaeologist/illustrator with Oxford Archaeology; son Rory, an engineer with Projector Lifting; and Christopher, like myself currently redundant. There will be more sightings of old students in next year's Newsletter – in the meantime, I would like to wish you all a Happy Christmas and prosperous New Year! From Phil Cuttell (60/62), correspondent: Tony and Amanda Bradley are ‘bob bob bobbing along’. Tony overseeing 2000 Hectares of arable. Kit includes 36 ft boom sprayer in Berkshire. Just saw them share their Golden Wedding with friends & family, Congratulations to you both. Sam & David Bratley are brill. Their son has set up a recycling business in London from scratch. Hugh Buckhurst, as Chairman of a Kent Garden Society is planning a trip to see RHS sites in Yorkshire in 2015. Starting in Harrogate, the first visit is to see “The National Rhubarb Collection” at Harlow Scar. Phil Cuttell, hopefully has had his last spinal operation at RD & E in Exeter. Playing Bridge and travelling out to holiday at Lina’s pad at Mijas near Malaga are his main interests. Holiday properties available – just ring me for more info. Danny & Ann Davies tell me Carmarthen hasn’t seen so many visitors this year. They were at the Menim Gate Memorial at Ypres, to hear the last post. Andy & Joe Deacon are visiting soon. All booked in to see Wales play South Africa. You all deserve it because of your contribution to the game. Haydn Evans has made a full recovery from prostate cancer. Just in last radio therapy treatment in Preston. Well done Haydn, sorry you had to travel so far for treatment.

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House builders Dave & Margaret Goodgame have just finally completed building their retirement home near Cairns, a long way north of Brisbane in Australia. All are welcome to fly out for house warming! Dave & Anne Jackson report from Denbigh, Clwyd, all is going well. Dave is still doing voluntary work in the community. Good man. Joe le Fanu wasn’t in but Charlotte says he is pretty chipper. Anthony his brother is still running his Bedford transport business. Sam Mackaness has sold Billing Aquadrome, near Northampton. He and his wife are running other enterprises in the territory. Hopefully Sam will see you all at the 55th reunion in 2015. His head office telephone is 01604 409096. Dave and Liz Morgan send ‘entente cordial’ greetings plus some French friends ‘Bonjour’ from around Versailles. In the last 20 years they have been travelling from Aylesbury to Goa. 2015 is the start of mastering speaking Hindi, Punjabi etc. 15 handicap at golf – good stuff Dave. John & Pat Morris are entertaining their daughter and husband, who have travelled from Brisbane to Cambridge. More trips to the golf course, John must be pleased. Daughter and husband are going out to China taking up a teaching assignment without specialist training. Staffordshire stalwarts Mike and Denise Pitchford are currently living in temporary accommodation until their new house is completed in Albrighton. Hopefully this will be in the first months of 2015. Steve Setchell and family are all fine. Their north Cambridge arable holding is up to scratch, although profits are moderate. Visits College on odd occasions. The Skipper and his son, Glen, go to support three football teams from his Goole home. Don is a leading member of the local ramblers association. Joan is performing in Sleeping Beauty for four days at a local pre-Christmas Show.

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Farmers Weekly Farm Employer of the Year 2014: Robert Barnes

By Jane King 2/10/14

Robert Barnes (85/86) LE Barnes & Sons, Roxhill Manor Farm, Marston Moretyne, Bedfordshire

Top-notch employment practices can make the difference between a world-class farmer and the rest, and that’s why Robert Barnes takes the people management side of his business very seriously. A genuine passion for sustainable farming shines through everything this grower and contractor does, from recruitment and development of staff through to technical operations.

"Robert’s passion for developing the business and his staff shines through in his impressive employment practices. He’s ensuring his staff are well managed and their skills are constantly moving on”said Ennis Vingoe, head of HR, Harper Adams, and independent judge. Robert and his wife Jules believe looking after staff is essential to retaining the best employees and ensuring they deliver a consistently strong performance. So five-star treatment is exactly what workers get, including three delicious home-cooked meals every day, roles and responsibilities clearly defined, plenty of training and lots of opportunities for staff to share views and ideas. This approach is all about creating a working culture that is ideal for a fast-paced arable operation, which includes growing combinable crops on 360ha at home and 1,200ha for others, plus integral grain lab testing, storage, drying and haulage. The business operates with a no-till and controlled traffic policy and Robert has reduced compaction by 80% in most fields, leading to improved soils and better yields. He is constantly innovating, both in his farming practices and in the way he recruits, trains and motivates the team. Everyone’s job is clearly defined, with achievable goals set and monitored through staff appraisals. The company’s business vision is shared with employees in a post-harvest review and everyone contributes views and ideas. Robert encourages staff to come up with new ways of doing things, with an emphasis on improving customer service.

mailto:[email protected]

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Farm Facts

• Farming and contracting with integral grain lab testing, storage, drying and haulage

• Turnover is £3m, 20-22 staff employed

• 360ha of own land and 1,200ha contracted

• Growing wheat, oilseed rape, linseed and beans

Winning Ways

• Passion and drive to develop the business and staff

• At the forefront of sustainable farming techniques

• Committed to employee well-being

• Personal training for each employee

One contracting client said: “In such a challenging year, Robert and his team of loyal and hardworking staff have managed to pull off a successful harvest. Thank you for all your hard work. Yields are as good, if not better, than 2012, and 2014 is looking even better.”

The whole operation has evolved significantly in the past two years through a highly skilled team. The key job of arable manager is held by Stuart Beardsell, who joined the business four-and-a-half years ago, having been employed as a sprayer operator elsewhere. Stuart is developing as a manager and has visibility on the farm financials. He also has a number of workers reporting to him, such as the farm operatives/sprayer operators Dayle Warren and Michael Devereux. Grain store manager Paul Skears is at the same level as Stuart, with both reporting directly to Robert.

The Barnes family started farming at Marston Moretyne 75 years ago under the stewardship of Robert’s grandfather, Leonard Edward Barnes, and then his father Anthony – hence the initials in LE Barnes & Sons. Robert has two children, Harry and Eleanor, and continues to invest heavily in the business to build a future for the next generation.

Second in line for the Award was Justin Scale (81/84) Capestone Organic Poultry, Pembrokeshire An impressive fifth-generation farmer running one of the largest privately owned poultry operations in the country. Justin is having to expand his workforce fast to keep pace with the rapid growth of the business.

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“Buen Camino” – Walking to Santiago de Compostela.

A large part of the ancient pilgrim route, ‘the Camino’, wends its way across northern Spain for 750 kilometres from the French Pyrenees to Santiago de Compostela. Here the relics of St James are said to be interred and many modern day ‘pilgrims’, whether for spiritual or adventurous reasons, still follow the route. My wife and I fall mainly into the latter group and had decided to tackle the final sections at the Camino’s western end; our first decision being whether to take the 5 or 7 day self-guided walking options offered. I liked the brochure’s description: “for the first two days (of the 7 which we chose) the route undulates through tranquil countryside with stunning views”, whilst Sue thought of ‘Spain’ – clear skies, blue seas, warm sunshine!

It was therefore quite a shock to set out from our starting point in the Sierra de Ancares in cold, wet and windy conditions, which were to continue for nearly three days as we headed west. There were only occasional glimpses of the much vaunted views but many new ‘friends’ – there were more people walking than we expected. We soon fell into a sensible pattern for the days – up at a reasonable hour, breakfast, pack our cases (these were transported to the next night’s resting place) make sure we had directions etc for the day ahead, and out onto the well-marked trail. At no time did we fail to start before 9.00am and so made good progress for a couple of hours before searching out the first coffee stop of the day.

These were plentiful and always well supported with cheerful people of many nationalities. The Camino really is a big industry and obviously provides a good income for the businesses in the area. We were struck by the good humour of everybody we met, in the coffee stops, bars and hotels as well as our fellow travellers – the universal greeting being “Buen Camino”, “have a good walk”. The hotels into which we had been booked were excellent and ranged from the very basic on the first night to 4-star on two occasions, particularly for two nights when we reached Santiago de Compostela. We always got a good breakfast and enjoyed a variety of evening meals, though not the local delicacy – stewed octopus.

It was quite a relief to finally walk into Santiago de Compostela and to locate our hotel and sort out our surroundings. We had come 156 kilometres in the 7 days and walked every step of the way – the penalty, just one blister each. Although there had been ‘bad patches’ we always managed to overcome them and very much enjoyed the camaraderie amongst our fellow ‘pilgrims’. Each day, to prove we were walking the route, we obtained at least two stamps in our ‘Pilgrim’s Passport’ from a bar, café or perhaps a small church along the way. On presentation of this document at the appropriate office in the city, we each received a certificate recording, in Latin, our achievements. On our ‘rest day’ we explored the interesting Old City, taking lots of photos as we wandered through the narrow streets and sunny plazas. At noon we attended the crowded Pilgrim’s Mass in the magnificent cathedral and managed to secure a good vantage point in one of the ‘wings’. At the end of the service and

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having received a blessing, we witnessed the spectacular swinging of the largest censer in the world – weighing 80kgs, 1.6 metres high and containing 40kgs of charcoal and incense.

This was not the end of our time in Spain and, just for the record, we travelled to Madrid on the high speed train at about 150mph! Then, after an overnight stay, it was a slower journey to sunny Andalucia where we very much enjoyed visiting son David who is teaching in Granada. He looked after us with two days of sight-seeing before we took the bus to Malaga; one last hotel and then the airport for home. Peter Hares (68/70)

Picture taken in the Swiss Gardens in the Autumn of 1965 by Tim Bryce

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Swiss Garden’s secrets unlocked This charming, alpine-inspired fantasyland of the 1820s has remained unknown – but thanks to a £2.8 million revamp, that’s all about to change, says Tim Richardson. The idea of the garden as a hidden gem is something of a cliché in the gardens world, but perhaps the term is justified when it comes to the Swiss Garden, in Bedfordshire. This utterly charming confection is surely the most complete surviving example of a regency garden in Britain. But hardly anyone – save for dedicated locals – seems to have been there. Whenever I have mentioned it to friends and colleagues over the years, the name has rung a bell, but that is it: the alpine wonder on the outskirts of Biggleswade is a closed book. Perhaps it’s because the adjacent aviation museum – both are looked after by the Shuttleworth Trust – has in recent decades rather upstaged the garden, tucked away as it is behind the aircraft hangers. But this Cinderella is now going to the ball. The Swiss Garden has just reopened following an eighteen-month restoration process funded to the tune of £2.8 million by the Heritage Lottery Fund. The work done is first class and as such represents good value for money in these straitened times. Especially given that there are 13 listed structures of delicate character on the site, and a substantial amount of tree clearing and replacing of shrubs has been achieved. The Swiss Gardens was the brainchild of Lord Ongley, who was apparently motivated by the 1820s fashion for all things alpine, itself inspired by the craze for holidaying in the Swiss Alps. It is not known whether Ongley himself went to Switzerland (no estate papers survive), but it is quite possible that he did not, given that the buildings in his garden seem as much Chinese or Indian as Swiss Alpine. Contemporary accounts refer to lanterns hung from the buildings, trees and ironwork arches – which are not particularly alpine, perhaps. But such “inauthenticity” mattered less at this time: people were more comfortable with the idea of fantasy than we are now.

The Indian Kiosk

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Ongley built the estate village of Old Warden on a similar alpine theme; apparently he expected his workers to sport rustic red neckerchiefs as he came by in his carriage. It is likely that Ongley first of all directed a good deal of earthmoving on what had been a level site. The intention was to create something approaching a mountainous scene, with flat alpine lawns and meadows intercut by floriferous banks. The principal building, the Swiss Cottage, sits on the biggest eminence of all, bang in the middle of the garden, and was the first thing seen by visitors as they arrived. It’s a marvellous building – thatched, a single upper room is decorated in curious oriental-meets-Gothic style, the fretwork decoration enlivened by bamboo struts. The door and porch are perhaps the highlight, with elaborate hazel twig work and a charming motif of split pine cones in the ceiling. This served essentially as a tea house. Walking around the mound, the visitor discovered it is not in fact a bungalow, but a two-storied, balconied building, the lower room used for preparing the refreshments. The other built highlight is the Grotto and Fernery, the exterior of which has been repainted a jaunty bright blue in keeping with other estate buildings. The visitor enters the building via one of two straight, dimly lit grotwork passages at each end of the building, with stubby stalactites and ferns protruding from niches. The fernery itself, with a fine glazed dome, bisects the grotto passage to create a cruciform. The ironwork pilasters and glazing bars are wonderfully delicate, while replicas of the original curving glass panes have been reinstated. Plans are afoot for a nationally important collection of ferns in this exalted setting.

Scattered around the garden are various other features, including a tiny chapel, thatched “Indian kiosk”, punt dock and several little islands adorned with urns. These are accessible via small bridges, which are ornamented with the Victorian artificial stone, Pulhamite. This last was the legacy of Joseph Shuttleworth, who bought the estate in 1872, also adding a high terrace walk, from which the best “alpine” views can be seen and a broad walk through the middle of the garden. The Victorian interventions were largely in keeping with the general tone of the estate, so the restoration team have not felt compelled to make choices between one historical period and

another. The sinuous path system has been redefined and resurfaced in attractive Cotswold gravel, which greatly enhances the whole experience (other gardens open to the public should take note). The garden had become seriously overgrown in recent years and the team at the Swiss Garden have been busy removing large numbers of mature trees, including yews, to open up the vistas envisaged by Ongley and to emphasise the “alpine” shapes of mature pines and cedars. Shrubberies have been replanted, comprising species such as arbutus, berberis, cornus, holly, holm oak (to be kept at 7ft/2m), spindle, lilac, viburnum and spiraea. One or two circular planting beds have also been introduced in an effort to re-create the brighter, more floral atmosphere described by Ongley’s contemporaries. The definition of the composed tree and shrub plantings is still decidedly “muddy” in places – this is a longer-term project for the garden team.

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The Swiss Garden is quaint and quirky and as such has always divided taste. This is not a place for diehard Modernists or the good taste herbaceous brigade. One young visitor, Cecilia Ridley, writing to her Aunt Fanny from nearby Ampthill in September 1839, described it as “the most extraordinary garden in the world made out of a bog; full of little old summer houses on little round hills, china vases, busts, coloured lamps – in short quite a fairyland but more of a Chinese fairyland than a European one.” Today’s visitor can again enjoy the same sensation of pleasant confusion in a fantastical interlude, at a Bedfordshire fairyland “made out of a bog”. By Tim Richardson and reproduced by kind permission of the Daily Telegraph. Photos by Andy Marshall.

The Fernery & Grotto.

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“Never marry a woman who likes hats”

I can't remember Ken Russell actually saying that, but I do remember exactly when I first heard the quote. John Rowlett recounted the pearl of wisdom on the way up to Shutts for our 25th reunion, which would make it 1989.

As we get older it is noticeable that memory is very odd, but interesting, to say the least. Some things we remember vividly, while other things that happened are lost forever. This has been the joy of meeting up at our reunions because we have all helped each other rekindle happy memories of our youth. Most of us would say that we cannot remember a thing we were taught at Shutts, but it is self-evident that what we learned and forgot is buried deep in the recesses of our memories because it has had an effect on how we live our lives. Which leads to the statement that all education is good for you. Sorry for this ramble, keep going and you will see where I am leading. Despite the gaps in my memory of 50 years ago, there is one of Ken's lectures that I remember vividly. This is obviously my words and not his, but the gist of what he said is this: if you take over a rundown dairy farm, don't immediately start doing up the farmhouse. Your wife's nice new kitchen will have to wait. Spend all your money on cows. Kitchens and tractors cost you money. Cows will make you money. Buy the new kitchen out of profits, not out of capital, and certainly not out of borrowed capital. I remember it as one lecture, but it could be the memory of a lesson learned from a number of lectures and tutorials. So simple to most of us, but it is a lesson many farmers could have benefitted from, as I saw in the various facets of my career visiting farms. If I had not heeded this lesson it would have been disastrous for me and my family. In 1979 we sold our house in Bath and put all the proceeds into a farming partnership venture. This was a 120-acre dairy farm in Somerset that was losing money. As everyone knows any fool could make money milking cows in the 70s, but my partner (farming partner, not wife) had been losing it for a number of years. Unfortunately, the tough measures, based on Ken's wisdom, that I had to introduce, to get out of debt, to protect our investment, only caused bitterness to build up. But that's another story.

Using our collective memories, this is how I think the story goes: Ken used his quip about hats to make us laugh. He then went on to tell us to spend all our money on cows, and not to let our wives spend capital on kitchens. One night in the pub I recounted Ken's ‘new hats’ story to a friend of mine, who is a lecturer at Bath University in the School of Management. He immediately said that what he was saying was simply Keynesian economics. I was stunned. Ken's wisdom states an economic philosophy in terms so simple, that anyone can understand, and which makes such eminently good sense.

We could have done with some of Ken's philosophy rubbing off onto our various chancellors of the exchequer over the last 50 years. What are the ‘new hats’ in a national sense? We could start with bankers, their bonuses, and continue with slack regulation which allowed the banks to nearly bring the country to its knees. We could add allowing multinational companies to make huge profits out of us (sometimes from government contracts) and pay little or no tax by sending profits offshore. I could go on. We should ask why do our leaders allow themselves to be seduced by the ‘buyers of new hats.’ We only have to look at the directorships that have been given to former government ministers who are now sitting in the House of Lords, to see how the system works. In years gone by it was money in brown paper envelopes, then it was MPs expenses, now it's directorships, If this was Africa it would be called corruption.

This is turning out to be a bit of a political rant, typical of the sort of conversation had in the pub after the second pint, which is not what I had intended. But never mind, at least it is not party political, unlike the speech given by Peter Kendall at this year’s reunion which was overtly party political. Added to this, his speech was slanderous to Shuttleworth. He started by saying that many years before he had visited Shutts with his father to see if it was a suitable place for his education, as his elder brother was already a student. He said his father was appalled at the ‘good times’ the students had, and was not going to let his second son, Peter, be corrupted by Shutts as his elder son had been. He would obviously say that this was only a joke, but I am sure this would not have gone down well with Ken and other staff members if had been cracked at the time.

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He could not bring himself to say that there was also obviously a lot of hard work being done, alongside the good times. It was just as well he, himself, went to a superior institution which was far more suitable for the great man he was to become! I'm sure that the ghost of Ken was on his feet and taking him down a peg or two.

Getting back to the point. My contention is that Ken's philosophy was based on Keynesian Economics. Perhaps Ken's philosophy should be referred to as KENSIAN ECONOMICS. If it was taught more widely, especially to our politicians we would all be better off. And we, as a nation, would not be in the stupid situation we are now in, as for example, being a net importer of milk. And we might, as Germany has, still have a decent manufacturing industry. And not be in the position we are now in where the remnants of our once great industries are owned by foreign powers. Ken, I'm sure, would be appalled at our politicians’ liking for ‘new hats’. David Lucas (62/64) Editor. Thanks for that. I remember going to a farmers gathering where the speaker was the Agricultural Department Manager for one of the big six banks. He said if farmers came to him asking to borrow money to buy a new piece of equipment, he would always ask the question, “Do you want it or do you need it?” Wise words I have never forgotten. Tim.

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Objects of Desire

This is my flask. It has been my constant work-mate for the last 15 or so years, and I daresay we have spent more time together than I have with my dear wife Pat. She inadvertently started this menage a trois by buying this object of desire to replace the flask that met its end due to a combination of klutziness, gravity and a combine tyre (attached to a Case-IH 2188 for those who like such details). When new, this flask was resplendent in a coat of metallic green Hammerite paint, shod with a sturdy plastic base. Complementing this was a sturdy plastic handle secured by metal links attached to the side of the flask, the whole being topped by a sturdy plastic cup. There was, by way of further refinement, a large label occupying nearly half of the side opposite to the handle that proudly proclaimed the flask to be an Aladdin 'Charvac' made just as proudly in Nashville, Tennessee, USA. (In addition to the music industry, this proud city also supports healthcare, publishing, banking and transportation industries – presumably their employees are all serenaded by

wholesome gals and mustachioed, chisel-jawed guys singing about the gamut of emotions, accompanied by the ubiquitous slide guitar).

Back to the flask... which, as you can see, has suffered grievously from its passionate attention to duty at the hands of a heartless cad. The first indignity came when its handle had to be surgically removed after an incident with an indifferent piece of machinery. Then another brush with klutziness, gravity and a concrete floor deprived it of the sturdy plastic base. In an attempt to assuage my feelings of guilt, I gave the poor thing a new coat of silver Hammerite, and blinged it up with a label from a bottle of Marston's Old Empire Pale Ale. Things improved, although life was still hard for the hapless flask, having to endure the loneliness of life in the back of the cab, not being able to see anything and only able to enjoy fleeting moments of company during the day when it was 'time for a cuppa'. In the evening, it was back home to be washed out with hot water and detergent; occasionally this stalwart underwent a flask's version of de-worming, whereby it had to endure a night of purgatory whilst a solution of hot caustic soda removed the accumulated tannin from its innards (Deosan or similar works just as well, for you dairying types). This continued for many years, until July this year when another application of klutziness and gravity sent it down the steps of a Claas 530 combine, where, horror of horrors, the cup, that has held nigh on 20,000 cups of tea, was split asunder. There our paths crossed for perhaps the last time, for I was told of my impending redundancy later that day. I am now redundant (how do you think I found time to sit and write this?), and have taken up creative writing and photography to while away the time as I rest between appearances on the employment stage. As for the flask? It is happily married to a Thermos mug, and sits on my desk, blissfully unaware that 15 minutes of fame lie round the corner – that is if the editorial team sees fit to publish this diversion… Graeme Brown (77/80) also known as Spiny Norman

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Report of the Round Norfolk Relay September 20th-21st 2014 Any of you reading this who knew me at College may remember that I was predominantly a hockey player rather than a runner. I started doing a bit of running just after leaving College but then that tailed off after getting married. It wasn’t until I changed jobs and started working in Milton Keynes spending a lot of time sitting down that I started again. A couple of work colleagues suggested that I do the East Midlands Grand Prix series, a set of eight evening races starting with a 10km race at the Silverstone circuit in May and ending with the last race in early July. After that the rest is history. I also kept meeting Eric at various races whilst he was still in the county.

A few years later I joined Bedford Harriers which lead me to the Road Norfolk Relay. This is a 197 mile continuous 17-stage relay around Norfolk starting and ending at Kings Lynn. The distances range from 5.5 miles to just under 20 miles. The race starts at 06.00am on the Saturday morning with all teams aiming to finish around 10.00am on the Sunday morning. The slower teams set off first. This year Bedford Harriers decided to enter an ‘elite’ team, which was basically most of the top running group. The team was made up of 12 men and 5 ladies. It was meticulously planned who would run each stage and there is a whole support crew of drivers, time keepers and bike support. I have a reputation for liking and being good at cross county so I was given stage 3, Burnham Ovary to Wells, just under 6 miles but off road with a good proportion of it over the sand dunes and onto the beach. We had to give an estimated time to complete the race, which meant we were one of the three teams to start last.

We set off early on the Saturday morning to the start point at the Lynn Sports Centre. I had borrowed a tent from a chap at work; not having slept in a tent since the age of 16 this was a little novel but found a willing volunteer to help me put it up. Adam, our first runner, set off at 12.00. Three of us set off in the car to Hunstanton to meet him, where he would hand over to Gill. This was a 16-mile section mostly along the coastal path. Adam is one of our speediest runners and set off at a good pace. We fuelled up at the Light House café (Mr Yates had by this time gone to the football). The first runner came through but no sign of Adam and the other chap. They eventually arrived after having taken a long detour through nettles and over fences before getting back on track completing nearly 20 miles. It transpired that some children had moved the sign. Poor Adam had never run so far in his life and this had lost us nearly 30 minutes. Gill set off before we bundled into the car to head to Burnham Ovary for my leg. The wind had picked up and there were some dark clouds gathering. Gill made up some time before handing over to me. I could see the other runner in the distance so set off in pursuit. It was tough going along the sand dunes onto the beach and then back across sand dunes to get onto the coastal path. I was handing over to Danny for the next stage.

Wells-next-the-Sea

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The handover went smoothly – more than could be said for finding Danny’s car again in the car park and Adam having to drive it to the next stage never having driven an automatic before. But we made it. We stopped part way to see him go past which is when we realised something had happened and the City of Norwich runner who was just in front of Danny was pulled out. It wasn’t until we got to the next handover point that we learnt a runner had collapsed and died. As there were no other runners behind us at this point and the first teams had by this time been going for over 10 hours the race organisers took the tough decision to continue. This was a very difficult time and our thoughts went out to the family and friends of Darryl Davis, as our own club chairman collapsed with a heart attack at the end of a race in Stevenage and was saved by the fact there were paramedics only a few meters away who had a defibrillator and carried out CPR for over 30 minutes. Danny handed over to Anna on the fifth leg and rather subdued we headed back to Kings Lynn. We hadn’t realised just how far we had travelled; by this time we were near Sheringham, so by the time we got back to Kings Lynn it was after 6pm. After hot showers and food we all felt much better. I turned in for an early night at 9pm having volunteered to do bike support. It seemed like a good idea at the time but I hadn’t taken into account that to do the bike support we would have to get from Kings Lynn to Thetford for 4am, which meant getting up at 2.30am. The tents had been pitched close to a building which had outside lights so there was little need for a light in the tent, and the large gutter and metal down pipe meant that when it rained it was rather noisy, not to mention all the other people returning throughout the night after completing their sections of the race. At least it had stopped raining when we got there. Mark drove us to Thetford then Adam drove to the next stage where I would take over. We got there to find Mark’s front tyre was flat and the spare tube leaked faster than the original. He pumped the tyre up and it managed to stay up until the next stop where I would take over at RAF Feltwell. By this time we were starting to gain on the other teams and overtake a couple. On the leg from Feltwell to Wissington, with the sun starting to rise, Paul overtook six other teams. He then handed over to Paulo who managed to overtake another six runners. About three miles into the run we had a white van pull alongside and the side door open to reveal a camera crew. This was our few minutes of fame as we later appeared towards the end of Look East’s inside coverage of the event. Mark took over the bike support at Downham Market as the later stage was off road and not suitable for my road bike.

We had a very long, tiring and at times emotional weekend with a pretty pleasing result. Anna and I were initially gutted not to have run under the time we had been estimated to run. But it turned out that we were the fastest ladies on our stages and of the five ladies in our team four of us were the fastest ladies on the stage, with Gill, Anna and myself setting new ladies course records for our stages. Gill also had the overall second highest age graded score. Overall as a team we were fourth in the open category and third in ARC category. I think, if you asked us if we would do it again, the answer from all of us would be ‘yes’. Sally Cartwright (86/89)

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An Alaskan adventure By Howard Barbour (66/68) As the drone of the single engine bush plane drifted away off the edge of the seemingly endless, dead flat, coastal tundra of Alaska’s North Slope, Sheila and I turned to each other and mouthed the words we had said on leaving Oregon, on crossing the border into Canada, on picking up the Alaska highway at Dawson Creek, on boarding the Alaska Airlines jet in Fairbanks and finally the bush plane in Barrow Alaska, the most northerly city in North America: “well kid, this is it.” We looked around at our fellow passengers, all Cheechakos (Google it) and all about to start a year teaching in an Eskimo village on Alaska’s North Slope, which like almost all the villages in bush-Alaska, had no road in or out of town, no mains water, no sewers, one very rudimentary village shop, and a climate seen only in “Frozen Wilderness” National Geographic specials. We had arrived in mid-August by bush plane, the only way into the village from anywhere. The Wainwright airstrip sits on perhaps the only rise in the tundra for 100 miles all around, barely more than a tump in that vast expanse. The village is hidden below it. There we were, four foreigners alone on the Arctic plain. There may have been a dog barking somewhere, there usually is in bush villages, but if so that was the only sound, and the only suggestion that we weren’t alone. The Arctic is an almost soundless place, however our apprehensive reverie was broken by the sound of a vehicle fishtailing up the gravel road from the village. It burst through the entrance, past the non-functioning security gate hanging on one hinge and screeched to a stop beside us. The driver, who turned out to be the school’s maintenance superintendent, leapt out and in a typically gruff Montana drawl yelled, “Welcome to Wainwright folks, God-damned pilot didn’t radio in.” Which may have meant that we had just flown over some of the emptiest country on the planet in a plane with no radio. Sheila and I had both hitherto lived in Oregon, she in Ashland, way down on the California border and myself in The Dalles up north on the mighty Columbia River, which forms the border between Oregon and Washington. We were both time-served teachers; I ran the Ag. department at The Dalles High School, whilst Sheila taught a multi-age elementary class in Ashland.

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We’d get together every two or three weeks at one or the other end of the state, and occasionally in the middle. After two years of driving 280 miles each way, in all weathers, we had decided it would be much more fun to live, at least, in the same county. The early 90s however were an age of austerity in education and the chances of us finding a job in the same town were remote. We considered joining the Peace Corps, but we were both still recovering from costly divorces and didn’t see how we could possibly work for a subsistence income for two years. We knew Alaska paid rather well, and liked teaching couples since they are easier to house and have a built-in support system. The whole idea of living in a prehistoric wilderness suggested adventure. And so, after casting about the globe for an alternative to the Peace Corp, we decided to try Alaska for a year, on the supposition that anyone can survive anything for at least a year, even incarceration. Alaska is a massive state and although you’ll never get Texans to admit it, at least two and a half times the size of Texas. It has a population of something over half a million, three hundred and fifty thousand of whom live in the three cities Anchorage, Fairbanks and Juneau.

We signed one-year contracts with the North Slope School Borough District, to teach for a year in the village of Wainwright, an Arctic Ocean Eskimo village located about 100 miles west of Barrow. The North Slope Borough includes everything north of the Brooks Range and extends from the Canadian border east of Kaktovik, to the village of Point Hope, or Tikigak on the Chuckchi Sea, an area of some 95,000 square miles, and bigger than forty of the lower forty eight states.

Alaska showing the Arctic Circle (the reason for the large arrow on Point Hope will later become apparent) The population of the North Slope numbers about 8,000 souls, who live in eight villages, the largest of which is Barrow with about 3,000. Most of the inhabitants are Inupiat Eskimo, and are of the same language group as all the circumpolar peoples except the Lapps. Before contact in the middle to late nineteenth century, the people of the North Slope were migratory subsistence hunters, surviving on sea mammals including Bowhead whales, which they still hunt in sealskin covered umiaks, fish and caribou. All of the eight villages were originally seasonal hunting camps, three of them are on the ocean and served as spring whaling and sealing camps. Two of the villages are inland, Anaktuvik is considerably so, being on the migration path of the Tashupuk Caribou herd. Most Inupiat place names are descriptive and Anaktuvik is a classic example. Anak is the Inupiat name for poop, Caribou are Tutu and vik is place. Thus we have Anuk-tu-vik or “place of the caribou poop.”

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After spring whaling would come Ugruk or bearded seal hunting, and as soon as the rivers thawed the whole village would move up river to the fish camps for fishing and caribou hunting. Then it would be back to the coast for fall fishing and berry picking, followed by the long frozen winter on the coast, during which they survived on the whale meat and blubber or Muktuk, which is still stored in cellars or Sigaluks dug down into the permafrost. The entrance to a sigaluk or ice cave dug in the permafrost, there would be a ladder extending down about 12

feet to the floor. They would also hunt polar bears or Nanuk and ringed seals or Natchiq out on the frozen ocean. Should the caribou migrate into the area, they would hunt those too. The Alaska Department of Fish and Game bag limit on caribou was 10 a day! It was into this delicate balance between man’s needs and natures provision that the New England whaling fleets arrived in the mid-nineteenth century. They had by this time depleted whale numbers around the Hawaiian and Aleutian islands, and by the end of that century had decimated the Arctic bowhead whale population in pursuit of whale oil and whalebone or baleen. As a result, the Eskimos were reduced from a subsistence lifestyle, which had sustained them for at least five thousand years, to the ever-present threat of starvation and a dependence on intermittent government handouts. The church missions arrived shortly after the East Coast whalers. On The North Slope the officers of the Presbyterian Church, soon realized that the combined agents of starvation, European diseases and alcohol, all prevalent subsequent to the arrival of the whaling fleets, were decimating the native population. Disease had already wreaked its havoc before the missionaries arrived, and alcohol was seemingly well established since the sailors had taught the Eskimos how to brew their own. But, reasoned the well-intentioned missionaries, perhaps we could do something about an alternate food source. Thus it was that the idea of establishing missions throughout Arctic Alaska which would provide, in addition to introducing Christianity to a basically animist population, elementary schooling, healthcare and Reindeer herds as a food source.

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Since reindeer are not indigenous to Alaska they had to be shipped over from Arctic Russia to the missions in Barrow, Wainwright and Point Hope. Russian herders travelled with the deer and instructed the Eskimos in their management. The venture, although well intentioned, seems to have been a dismal failure; the Eskimos were hunters and not herders and had little interest in living out on the tundra in all weathers away from the comforts of home. Interestingly, a few of the reindeer survived in the wild and can still be found in the areas in which they were introduced. The measure did however establish year round villages, largely because the natives understood the benefits of the education that their children were now getting. I met elders in their 70s and 80s who remembered going to seal camp south of the village and then up river for weeks in the spring and summer. The sled dogs would haul their gear and themselves to the headwaters in the Umiaks or family boats, taking the Kayaks or small boats, to hunt the caribou as they swam across the river on their summer migration. This migratory lifestyle did not disappear completely, in fact it still persists in a modified form today. www.youtube.com/watch?v=ka-iXzqYq08 Perhaps at this point I should describe the climate and geography of the North Slope. Barrow is the most northerly city in America lying just above 71 degrees N or about 300 miles north of the Arctic Circle and only a thousand miles from the North Pole. Point Hope, the most westerly village on the Slope, lies at almost 69-degrees or about 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle and incidentally, further west than Hawaii. The annual precipitation is about four inches a year, and any rain or snow that does fall north of the Brookes Range seeps slowly through the boggy tundra to the few rivers that drain the Slope into the Arctic Ocean. Since there are only 15 to18 frost-free days a year, this process is very slow and thus the Tundra is either frozen in winter or very boggy during the short summer. About 12 to 18 inches below the top peaty layer that sustains Alpine plants, grasses and shrubs, lies the permafrost, which has been there since the last ice age. When melted this rock-hard layer resembles a thin earthy soup, and once melted does not permanently refreeze again.

Sheila and myself in front of an exposed permafrost lens on the beach. Sheila is standing on the sloughed off layer of peat and grass.

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Traditionally the Eskimos or Inupiats lived in sod houses with an entrance in the roof; soon after contact the entrances moved to the front of the sod house. Disused sod, driftwood and whalebone house, occupied until the 1960s. Driftwood or whale ribs and jawbones were used for the roof and doorway.

At some point before the continental parts we now recognise of the super continent of Pangaea drifted apart, Arctic Alaska basked in a semi-tropical climate, hence the coal which lies almost on the surface in places and of course the huge reserves of North Slope oil at Prudhoe Bay. Oil, a gift of the Jurassic period, has bestowed on the Inupiats an unheard of bounty. The Native owners of the land do not receive royalties on the oil, those riches go to the State of Alaska, but since they are incorporated into a taxing entity or borough, they are able to levy property and plant taxes on the oil companies and oil services companies. Needless to say this bounty didn’t drop in their laps, they had to fight for it. Initially the response of the oil companies and the State of Alaska to their cry of, “Wait a minute that’s our land you’re drilling in” was “if you were a borough you could levy taxes, but since it takes at least eight villages to form a borough and you have only six, you don’t qualify as a taxing authority.” Game, set and match, to big oil? Not quite: the Inupiats hired a Seattle lawyer with money they borrowed from the Presbyterian Church, bought tents and two prefabricated schools, hauled the whole lot out to two traditional hunting sites, Atakasuk and Nuiqsut , and sent about 100 families and 20 teachers out to live in them for a year. They then challenged the State of Alaska in federal court and won recognition as a borough. The bounty that followed caught them rather unawares, but since they had always been a sharing society, the money was spent on facilities for their residents. The schools were better equipped than any I have taught in: each school had a full-size basketball gym with public seating on one side, an exercise room and small swimming pool. In 1993 we had compressed video to all villages and a local area broadband network. The computer equipment was updated every year, and thus we had access to the web long before it was available for educational use in most of the lower 48 States.

In addition each village had a day care nursery, a state-of-the-art health centre with trained health aids, and a commodious senior centre, which provided a place to meet and a midday meal to all the elders. There was an emergency centre which provided ambulance, fire and search and rescue services. Therefore any misgivings we had on that lonely airstrip were soon dispelled when we first walked into the school and were later shown to our accommodation. The teacher’s houses were purposely spread out around the village, so that we were part of the community and not in a separate teacher enclave. We were allotted a very well insulated, triple glazed, two-bedroom, wooden frame house.

Our assigned house in Wainwright.

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Running water was piped from a 500-gallon tank in the house, which was filled from a tanker once a week. Grey water ran out onto the ground under the house, and for 10-months of the year froze into a murky glacier. Sewage was somewhat more primitive: we had Porta-Potties which we emptied into plastic bag-lined cardboard boxes, which we set outside to be collected once a week. They froze into large bricks and just became part of the winter landscape, until they were hauled away to the landfill. The newer houses and the school sat on pilings about three feet above the ground to prevent the heat of the building from melting the permafrost under the house and thus causing the house to slowly sink down below the surface of the peaty soil. Unfortunately the legs would loosen up in the summer thaw, and during the frequent gales the house would sway in the wind like a boat on a mooring. One morning we got up to find the refrigerator sitting in the middle of the kitchen with the power cord stretched at tight as a banjo string; the cord was the only thing stopping the fridge from joining us in the bedroom. I remember one 80mph wind that blew for the customary three days soon after we arrived. Apart from feeling a bit queasy as the house swayed to and fro, we were snug inside. Usually the severe storms shut down air travel, but on this occasion I heard a plane engine right above the house that didn’t seem to be moving, I rushed outside and called to Sheila, “ Quick come outside, there’s a plane hovering above the house!” Since 80mph is about the landing speed of a small Cessna, it was hanging there fighting its way forward in the lulls and hovering in the headwind. It eventually fought its way to the landing strip. We arrived in Wainright three days before school started and were given our teaching assignments. Sheila was allocated the second grade, or seven year olds, who had already been in school and pre-school for three or four years. These northern communities saw the value of early childhood education (ECE) and started the kids at age three if they were potty trained. Thus there were two years of ECE, then kindergarten, followed by 1st through 6th grade at which point the kids went on to two years of junior high and then four years of high school. Thus by the time they graduated at 18 they had been in school for 15 years. Since there isn’t much scope for agriculture in the Arctic, I was assigned to teach woodwork, and metals, including welding and small engine repair, generally referred to as ‘shop classes’, plus a junior high English class and high school social studies class. In Bush Alaska you could be expected to teach well outside your certified subject area, in fact the shop teacher who preceded me had spent almost the entire year having the kids build small bird nest boxes, which sounds like a worthwhile exercise until it’s pointed out that there isn’t a single cavity nesting bird in the Arctic! Our teaching colleagues were from all over the U.S. Three were from Oklahoma, two from Arkansas, two from Minnesota, two from Idaho, two from Washington, only two from Alaska and one of whom had married a local Inupiat and made her home in the village. We had been told by the Inupiat Superintendant of schools at the new teacher orientation in Barrow, that we should be aware that many of our pupils would come to us from dysfunctional homes, where alcohol was the cause of the disruption and that we may be one of the few supportive agencies available to them. We found this to be the case and soon learned to recognize the symptoms of fetal alcohol syndrome (FAS) in some of the children. On reflection it occurred to me that given the reported incidence of public drunkardness in Victorian Britain, that the symptoms of FAS, i.e. reduced ability to recognize cause and effect, and to form personal relationships, might have worked in favor of the ‘Thin Red Line’ as it faced seemingly insurmountable and almost suicidal odds at Balaclava. The school operated with all the community involvement of any American school. We had a community school board that met monthly, a student council, and a passionately followed, if limited, school sports program. The team sports were cross-country running in the fall, followed by basketball through the winter and wrestling in the spring. These sports were offered largely because a team could be accommodated in a ten-seater bush plane when traveling to distant villages and towns for away games.

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During the short and nightless summer the kids played Eskimo baseball, which approximately followed US baseball rules except that no score was kept, a manifestation of the Eskimo’s aptitude for cooperation, which we encountered again and again. All of the certified teachers at Wainwright were non-native and from the lower 48 states, except for Terry Tagarook and Gladys Nashoalook, the Inupiat Language and culture teachers. Kids are kids and schools are schools whichever part of the globe the teacher teaches, and we were able to pick up pretty much where we left off in our previous jobs. It wasn’t easy and we had much to learn from and about the community. An example of this might be the tendency amongst the Eskimos to avoid lengthy explanations and discussions. The accepted answer to a question in the negative is to wrinkle the nose and in the affirmative to raise the eyebrows. That took a while to sink in, as did my response to a native request for help in repairing hunting equipment, household appliances and furniture. I soon learned that if I was asked to fix or repair something, the person in need meant now. Whereas if I was busy I might ask them to leave the object with me and I’d get to it as soon as I could. Their response would be to look at me with an expression of polite incredulity, until I realised that he wouldn’t have asked me if he didn’t need it right away. On taking over the workshop I was shown a box of spectacle repair supplies and told that this was another service expected of me. I was also expected to manufacture custom grave markers. The first village festival we attended was Thanksgiving, an American tradition that had been adopted by the Eskimos as another excuse for eating lots of native food and traditional dances. It falls on the last Thursday in November. The whole village gathered in the school gym. Traditional and American foods were handed out. We had our first taste of Caribou stew, which was good, and duck soup, which might have been more appealing if the cook had bothered to pluck and dress the ducks first, but I guess it doesn’t take long to pick feathers, beaks and feet out of a soup as you eat. www.youtube.com/watch?v=jDi2ZH1oJmM Thanksgiving in Wainwright heralded about two months of sunless days: it isn’t exactly dark since the sun of course is still there below the horizon, but the most light you can expect is a sort of Alpen glow in mid-afternoon. A woman about my own age told me that the brightest winter light she remembered before electricity came to the Arctic was moonshine. Bearing in mind that we spent nine years in this remarkable environment I think that is probably enough for this instalment. To be continued if you so desire. Howard Barbour NDA 66/68

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The trip of a lifetime. By Tim Bryce (65/67) How did it all start? At the turn of the century, I had seen a stand at the Royal Show illustrating and talking about ‘alternative enterprises’ for the hard pressed farmers of those times. Amongst the exhibits was a narrowboat, brand new, beautifully crafted and set up as a series of individual cabins for holiday let accommodation. They were basically aiming this at the farmers who had a canal or other waterway running through their farms. If you like, a different type of B&B, something with an interesting and unusual appeal. I remember thinking that particular day: “At that price, could I make money from hiring out a boat?” That seemed fun and easier than the ‘buy-to-let’ which I was dabbling with. I very soon got to the point of thinking “I must try this out for myself”. First I decided I would hire a boat for a few months and see if I enjoyed the experience. I soon found out that it was going to be expensive and not quite as easy as it sounds. In the end I put my money on the table and invested in a lovely new 57ft narrowboat, on the basis that I could, at worst, sell it on if I changed my mind. I loved the lifestyle and have never looked back since. The boat is mine and I have never even thought of trying to let it out! At the start I thought, in 10 years I will be over 75 and I doubt if I will be physically fit enough to continue. Now, I think 80 might be the age to call a halt. I am now 77 and have not yet travelled the whole of the waterways network in the UK, and I probably never will. Last year I fulfilled a long standing ambition to go east on the River Nene to the Fens, and this year I have just returned from a most wonderful trip up north, which is the subject of the following story. In March I advertised for someone, or a succession of people, to come with me, working as ‘crew’ at the same time as enjoying an inexpensive holiday. My trip was ambitious and I knew it would be tough and, perhaps in parts, beyond me on my own. Not exactly an overwhelming response but one chap, ‘Dave’, came to see me in Banbury and said he would like to join me if and when he had time. An enthusiastic old lady of 78 wanted to join me but then reluctantly backed out when her worried doctor booked her into hospital for a series of tests.

It was nearly Easter and I still needed to spend a few days preparing the boat. A good clean, some painting, fill gas bottles and do that essential oil change. I also needed to stock up with some provisions, clothing, bedding, reading etc. It was the Wednesday after Easter and I pulled up the anchor – no, I didn’t really, because all I had to do was to untie the mooring ropes and start the engine. I headed north for Cropredy, working a few locks on the way and travelling about 5 miles that first day. I had started, and I soon found my sailors feet again. I made steady progress up to Coventry where I stayed for a two day break.

I kept going north, having the opportunity to visit the National

Memorial Arboretum and Shugborough Hall. After Shugborough I went north to Polesworth, an interesting place, once the centre of our lost coal mining industry and whose church is in part the remains of an ancient abbey. I stopped here for a few days and went back to Shuttleworth for the Reunion and the SCA AGM. Next stop Stone, an important little market town, having the canal running right through its centre. Dave had been in touch and wanted to join me for a few days – in hindsight I really think he simply wanted to test out the situation and see if he could get on with me. Dave arrived by train from Stoke-on-Trent where he had parked his car. With his help for just two days I was soon in Stoke. Dave returned home and I paid for a mooring in a local Marina and went back home myself in order to be able to attend an important Rotary Club event.

Emerald Dream in Banbury waiting to go

Coventry

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North of Stoke the canal system was all new to me. In the next few miles I came to the Harecastle tunnel. I had been warned in an alarming fashion by all sorts of people – they thought I was taking a huge risk going anywhere near it. The tunnel is old although not the first at the site, and the district subject to subsidence. The tunnel is narrow but not that bad now that the walk-through towpath has been removed, but certainly has very low headroom in places – they say a minimum of 5ft 9ins. Boats are only allowed to travel in one direction at a time and the tunnel is force ventilated. I fitted an extra light on the roof of the boat to light the tunnel ceiling and I found the passage through relatively easy. Interestingly enough I met a boat at the tunnel moorings which was owned by the couple that I met in the very early days of my researches into boating, and who finally encouraged me to have a go. It was lovely to see them. It is a small world and we were both far from home.

The next part of my journey took me on the Macclesfield Canal to Marple in Cheshire, where I took a detour down the Peak Forest canal into beautiful hilly country to a point not that far from Buxton. Returning to Marple I headed for Manchester, having to work a great many locks on my way. At a marina where I filled up with fuel, I had been told not to stop anywhere on the canal until I reached Ancotes in Manchester itself, it was simply too dangerous to

risk the consequences of vandalism. Up in this district most locks were closed with special anti-vandal locks using special keys, making progress more difficult and slower. Being on my own at this point it took me all day to work my way down the last18 locks into Manchester. I started at 8 in the morning and was tied up in Ancotes at 4 in the afternoon. Here I and other boats faced another problem; the water was leaking out somewhere further down and we all finished up aground and totally unable to move or do anything about it. The

telephone to CRT (Canal & River Trust), the navigation authorities, was red hot! Next day I travelled on right through the centre of Manchester to a basin the other side of town in Castlefield. Here I was able to stop for a while and visit some of the well-known and interesting museums in the city. Now I was heading for Liverpool, via Wigan, passed its famous pier and through interesting country with heavy industry, reclaimed old mine workings which have become conservation areas for wildlife, and then beautiful rolling countryside and villages and even a big area of Market Garden crops. To enter the docks at Liverpool the CRT require boaters to book a passage and then they accompany them as a group from Aintree through swing bridges and locks, all the way through the outskirts of the city into the docks. The authorities have provided excellent facilities for boaters with water and electric hook-up points at every pontoon mooring; all free of charge! From this point it was an easy walk into the city centre, from where it was possible to visit all the museums and galleries as well as the two world-

famous Cathedrals. Our moorings were in the centre of the beautifully restored dock area.

Ancotes

Wigan Pier Salthouse Dock.

The Liver Building

Inside Liverpool RC Cathedral

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After being escorted out of the city again, I travelled back to Wigan where I turned north to follow the Leeds- Liverpool canal. The first section is a long and difficult flight of locks subject to shortage of water. The CRT staff are on duty most of the time and are constantly rushing about trying to keep the water levels adequate to keep boats moving. Most of the time I was accompanied by a fairly elderly couple travelling up the flight in their own boat. The locks were the wide variety and our two boats could work the locks together. They were lovely people but he had an arthritic hip and she was extremely reluctant to get on or off her boat, but I have to say she

knew how to manoeuvre it very well.

At the end of the day it was good to find myself in beautiful open country looking eastwards to the Pennine uplands. It was now a long slow journey through the very interesting countryside on the edge of the Pennines, with the most wonderful views. Heading for Leeds I passed through towns and places with familiar names, like Burnley, Skipton etc., the odd tunnel and a great many swing bridges which are quite simply impossible for a singlehanded boater to manage on his own. I learned to ask passers-by for help: they might be dog walkers, joggers, cyclists or old age pensioners out for a constitutional. They

were all very glad to help and a joy for me to meet and talk to. The weather was very warm for much of this time and was causing the bridges to expand just enough to jam in the closed position. Even brute force was not enough to shift them on many occasions. With help from the CRT men I learned that to pour a bucket of water along the joint often helped, by shrinking the bridge just that tiny fraction which allowed it to be freed. Quite a few of the electrically operated road bridges also failed in this heat, I imagine they jammed in the same way but blew a fuse when someone tried to operate the system. On one occasion I was stuck between two of these electrically operated bridges for the best part of a day, just waiting for someone to come along and press a hidden button to get it going again. It’s all part of the fun of boating: no point worrying; no point in even thinking about hurrying. I simply forgot about any plans to get to any point at any fixed time. One of the things I particularly enjoyed was getting to a night’s mooring spot, tying up and walking into the town or village to find myself a cup of tea and a piece of cake. In this way I met a lot of interesting people and found out things about the locality I could never have read about in a book. On one occasion I met someone in a large village called Barnoldswick, which locals pronounce “Barlick”, lying on the borders between Yorkshire and Lancashire (once in Yorkshire but now officially changed to Lancashire). In the place, there is an important Rolls Royce Aero engine development plant, the Silentnight factory and even an Esse Stoves production plant. It just looked like a country village to me!

Wigan Town

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Tunnels are just another one of those hazards. One particular one on this canal, the Foulridge Tunnel, was quite long (1600 yards) and not wide enough for two boats to pass. It was fitted with traffic lights at both ends. I arrived when they were at red and waited patiently but could not tie up because there were no available points at which to moor. Several other boats came up behind me and soon the lights turned green. Off I went and twenty minutes later I was back in daylight. Only then did I discover that these lights worked on a time switch and took no account of a slower moving boat. I was told that boats have been found to meet head on! Yes, a narrowboat can go backwards but it is not easy, and I for one would not like to have to do this in a tunnel. If you were towing another boat, as was the case with one of the boats coming along behind me, it would not be possible. Slowly but surely I made my way across the northern edges of the Pennines through beautiful scenic country. I found the little tea rooms and the small village churches where I went on Sunday mornings. I met up with and chatted to other boaters all going in the same direction as myself. I met an interesting couple who had fitted out their own boat, lived in London for some years and were now retired and travelling the waterways, living on board all the year round. They were Phillippa and Peter. Peter was stone deaf, shouted when he tried to speak to you but could not hear anything if you replied. He was kind and helpful but his speech and manor, entirely due to his deafness, made him appear rather abrupt. His wife was also very kind at heart and loved chatting to me – she admitted to me that she regretted the loss of her husband’s ability to hold down a normal conversation. He had been a senior engineer of some standing during his working career and only

lost his hearing later in life. We kept meeting up at moorings, locks and bridges and we shared many of the navigation problems together. What a blessing it was to find all this help, willing given purely in friendship. We went down the ‘Bingley Five Rise’ flight of locks together. This was a ‘staircase’ flight where each of the locks opened directly into the next and dropped some 60ft in about 300ft. Thankfully, manned by CRT staff. We both stayed in Saltaire, that beautiful village community built and developed by businessman ‘Mr Salt’ for the accommodation of his Woollen Mill workers. A very enlightened employer of the time, but perhaps also a very clever man at looking after his own interests. We both arrived on the same day at Rodley, the place from where the navigation book suggested we should start our final and non-stop approach into Leeds. It sounded as if we might he mugged by 21st century Water Highwaymen! Peter carefully moved his boat to allow me to find space to moor and Phillippa came to me saying they planned to start at10 am and would I like to come with them. What more could I say but “yes please” and “thank you”. I moored up in Leeds in a basin beside the new Hilton Hotel Cafe and stayed for a few days waiting for Dave, who had been in touch and wanted to come back and help me. I had the opportunity to visit two Rotary Clubs and see quite a bit of the interesting city – very different now to my memory of nearly 50 years ago when I sat my NDA exam at the University. Dave arrived at just the right moment. The other side of the lock leading out of the basin was the river Aire, big, wide and with a flow. It gave me reassurance and a degree of confidence having an experienced boater with me. We heeded the advice to keep to the centre or outside of bends on the river to avoid shallows (sand banks) and made good progress.

Saltaire and Leeds (below)

The Bingley Five Rise

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Locks were enormous being originally built for very large commercial freight-carrying boats. Most would have been very daunting if I had been on my own. We travelled to Castleford, perhaps to you famous for its football team. Then we went through Ferrybridge with the dominating cooling towers of the power station. Next we used a short run of canal taking us from the river up to Selby where we were to join the river Ouse. At Selby we needed to book a passage on the tidal section of the river. Boaters are let out of the lock onto the river only when the tide stream is slack and there is enough time in hand to get to the exit lock before the tide turns and becomes too fierce. This is a nerve-racking experience: you have about 15 miles to go and a strict time limit. You just cannot afford to have an engine failure! Coming back, one of the boats travelling with us was desperately under powered, taking nearly half an hour more to travel the distance. The exit lock is at Naburn, about five miles

from York. You are still travelling on a river with a current and subject to considerable fluctuations in water level according to weather conditions. We had no problems and found excellent moorings in York.

The lockkeeper at Naburn told me that I needed to wait in York for a week to get a good tide for my return; at that point I expected to be on my own so was looking for the easiest and safest passage. Dave said he did not have to go back for a few days, so suggested we take the opportunity to go to Ripon; there and back in three days. So I agreed. While all this was happening a chap called Nigel sent me an email saying he would like to join me for a week or two to get some experience of narrowboating – he had actually already done a lot of sailing and cruising. I suggested if he could join me on the Monday afternoon then we could go back down the tidal Ouse together on the Tuesday. Dave left me on our return to York and Nigel arrived as planned on the appointed Monday. It was all working out very

well. I had a good few days break staying in York, visited the Minster and saw a lot of the city. I went to a service at the Minster and met a lady who was the wife of a contemporary of mine at school, 60 years ago. I even had a visit from Dave Valentine and his wife Barbara, who came up to York for the day. Nigel and I did the return trip down the tidal Ouse without too much hassle. The only thing that rather alarmed me was when we arrived at the lock in Selby the gates were closed against us because there were already boats in it, using it. The push of the running water took me past the lock and I had to turn the boat around down river and then hold it in position using the engine power pushing against the flow for about 15 minutes. Not something that I have ever had to do before. However all was well and we made it!

The Open River

York Minster

Dave & Barbara Valentine Huddersfield

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We moved on to Castleford and then headed off in another direction towards Wakefield and Huddersfield. My idea was to take a different route home and cross the Pennines, in fact going over and under through the Standedge Tunnel near Saddleworth moor. We travelled down wide rivers and went through a number of large locks as well as the Huddersfield broad canal before arriving in Huddersfield itself. When leaving Huddersfield the canal narrows and locks become only wide enough for one boat. This section has only relatively recently been restored and opened again for navigation. When we arrived at the first lock on Saturday, we found it was closed because a gate hinge had been broken. We had already booked our passage through the Standedge Tunnel for Wednesday and it was the Bank Holiday weekend. Panic. The CRT chaps really put their backs into it and did the repairs on Sunday but in the process they had to let the water out of the pound immediately above the lock. On the Monday we patiently waited while it filled. Andrew of the CRT told us he thought we could get through but the water was still very low and we spent the next few hours going a very short distance. We finished the day on a lock mooring two locks further on and calculated we still had some 40-plus locks to negotiate by Wednesday morning. Impossible! However we were going to give it a go! CRT kindly rearranged the boat passage through the tunnel, swapping the morning group with the afternoon bookings: that gave us just a few extra hours. We finally made it and I have to say Nigel worked like a demon. We laughingly renamed that canal as the ‘Huddersfield Narrow and Shallow.’ Hardened boaters will know exactly what we mean.

The Tunnel itself is a very special experience. It is the longest (3.25 miles), the highest (600ft above sea level) and deepest at 600ft below ground. It was built in the first few years of the 1800s and is not the least bit straight. When you arrive your boat is inspected and carefully measured to see if it can fit through the smallest section of the tunnel. It is really tight! You are given an experienced chaperone who travels beside the helmsman. You need a crash hat, a lifejacket and a fire extinguisher. The chaperone has a handheld gas detector. Off you go and it takes two hours to get through. I found it exceedingly difficult to see properly, the only light really being the boat’s headlight. It was very difficult to judge distance andsee the twists and turns. There were one or two big bangs when I hit the sides, but in the end the damage was no more than the loss of a little paint. Something I would not want to experience again but one I am glad I have achieved. Nigel really wanted to stay with me long enough to be able to boast that he had been through the tunnel. He left for home the following day. I tied up in Uppermill, a village, just west of the tunnel, very near Saddleworth Moor, for a well-earned rest. The telephone rang and it was Dave saying “Would you like me to come back for a few more days?” What more could I ask for? Dave arrived a day or two later and we made our plans to get all the way back to Kidsgrove and the Harecastle tunnel. Westwards from the Standedge tunnel was still part of the Huddersfield Narrow canal with all its characteristics of Narrow and Shallow.

Standedge Tunnel Eastern Portal at Marsden

View from a lock near Saddleworth Moor

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We made good progress and soon reached Stalybridge on the very outskirts of Manchester. A curious place with the restored canal making its mark through the centre, but now neglected and scruffy with oceans of Canada Goose droppings on the canal walkways. What a shame. Soon we were at the Junction where the canal goes back south on the Macclesfield or straight on back to Manchester again. The junction has a smartly restored warehouse turned into a museum and cafe and another old preserved mill building with a tall chimney. Our plan was to go to Manchester as I did before but of course this time I had Dave with me. It was an easier and quicker journey and the weather was just perfect. We did not stop until we got to the Castlefield Basin, which Dave neither knew was there, nor that it was such a pleasant place to stay. That afternoon my cup of tea was taken in a pub and Dave enjoyed a pint. From Castlefield this time we aimed for the Bridgewater canal, taking us further west and on a long stretch of canal without locks. All went well until we got to Lymm, where we came up behind another boat and in front of him a smart old style boat travelling at a snail’s pace. Nothing wrong with that if that is what you want to do, but after about a mile like this the boat in front decided to pull over and let the following boat pass. I naturally thought that I would be able to follow but he pulled back in front of me and having pushed on a bit myself to make the passing manoeuvre our boats touched – just a very gentle bump. At that the owner of this boat flew into a rage. It was just like those stories you have heard about ‘road rage’. He jumped onto my boat shouting and screaming abuse, and I thought I was going to be hit or pushed into the water. I simply did nothing, not wanting to start or encourage a fight. Luckily he obviously came to his senses and backed off and jumped off my boat onto the bank. Well I never did! Dave quietly took over the helm from me and we progressed on our way but of course at that snail’s pace for the next few miles until the silly man stopped and turned his boat round. In the end we achieved nearly 24 miles that day – it certainly makes a lot of difference not having any locks. We had got to Preston Brook, a name known all over the canal system and appearing on mile posts for many miles in all directions. On leaving next morning we soon came to a tunnel. It was marked in our map book but I had not seen any specific instructions or warnings. When we arrived at the portal we both saw a notice at the side of the canal. With the sun in my eyes all I could see was a large circular pie chart and I certainly could not read any writing. I said to Dave, “Did you read that?” He replied “I couldn’t see it”. We could clearly see the daylight at the other end of the fairly short tunnel, so came to the conclusion it was safe to proceed. About ¾ of the way through a boat with a headlight appeared up front coming into the tunnel. I blew the horn and he got the message and pulled back out of the tunnel mouth. Ten minutes later we got to the end of the tunnel only to be greeted by the furious angry boater who told us in no uncertain terms, we had broken the rules and should not be allowed on the waterways. I apologised but to no effect. I suppose we have to admit we should have been more careful to read the instructions but I do think his reaction was a little over the top. We found out later the instructions basically told boaters at what time, between x and y that they could proceed. Within a few minutes we faced another tunnel portal. This time I stopped the boat so we could get off and read the notice board at close quarters. Yes, we could only proceed at 30 minutes past the hour and only over the following 10 minutes. I was in front now with several boats behind me and waited to precisely the half past. Low and behold this time, again after we were well into the tunnel, a boat entered the tunnel at the far end. Again I blew the horn and again he pulled back. When we met at the end, he was sure he was right. Perhaps his watch was wrong! I really think it would be better if all narrow tunnels had traffic lights. We went about another 500 yards and we faced another tunnel portal. I looked very carefully and I assure you there was no notice of any kind. What was I to do? All we could assume was that the instructions at the far end of the tunnel we had just come through also covered this one on the basis that they were considered one. I looked at my navigation map book and found a telephone number to ring. I rang the number which was diverted to the new CRT Head Office line which I knew was a waste of time ringing, because it was a Sunday and the Office is definitely always closed.

Dukinfield Junction

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The canal became very busy with boats going backwards and forwards – I guess because it was a weekend. We were now very near to the Anderton Lift. We moored up and walked into the Exhibition and Information Centre. The lift is a fascinating piece of engineering that has been through a number of updating improvements and recently a major restoration. It was originally built in 1875. There is a hydraulic system that lifts one large metal box with a door at each end (a Caisson) full of water with a boat in it, up, while another similar box is lowered. It quite simply enables boats to be lifted or lowered between the canal 60ft up to the river below without the need of a whole series of locks or

the use of much water. It is one of the wonders of the waterways network. It is now back in full working order and open to the public. The only charge is if you want to experience a ride in a tourist boat going up and down. Another day going through open country and negotiating a section with many locks, we arrived in Kidsgrove at the north end of the Harecastle tunnel. We were too late to be able to go through that evening so arranged to be ready early next morning. Dave was happy to come with me as he did not need to be back home until that evening and anyway if we got as far as Stoke-on-Trent he would be within walking distance of the railway station. At this stage my journey was not finished with nearly 100 miles in front of me to get back to Banbury, but I had achieved my planned ambition to navigate all those interesting and beautiful waterways of the north of England. A few statistics Time: 6 months Distance: Banbury and back, 700 miles Locks: 385 Diesel: Quite a lot! Gas: Two 13kg bottles Oil: Running hours mounted and an oil change had to be done before getting home. Repairs: A new hand-wash basin (the old one developed an alarming crack!); a replacement

domestic water pump.

You can’t fail to recognise this place – Ferrybridge.

“Emerald Dream” at Naburn. First stop off the tidal Ouse.

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01458 251523 or [email protected]

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Obituary John Lye July 1926 to June 2014 Albert John Lye was born in July 1926 and lived with his parents, two brothers and three sisters, in Maidstone, Kent. He went to Maidstone Grammar School (where his father was Senior English Master) and matriculated in his School Certificate Examinations. He was a member of the local branch of the Camping Club of Great Britain and the Maidstone Cyclists Touring Club, favouring the outdoors and so in due course opted to become a farm pupil on a mixed farm at Addington, ten miles from home. A year or so later he was given the opportunity to transfer to a market garden and farm at nearby West Malling that supplied the Covent Garden market. The farm had a 200-ewe pedigree flock of Kent sheep, exporting all over the world, and when the shepherd left, John was appointed to the post. He attended Aberystwyth University (1947/50) to read Agriculture and Zoology. His wife Muriel (nee Brassington) studied there for a National Diploma in Dairy Husbandry. They both attended a common lecture each week for one year of their respective courses and married in August 1951. John joined the lecturing staff of Kesteven Agricultural College at Caythorpe Court, Lincolnshire in 1951 and moved to Shuttleworth as Lecturer in Animal Husbandry in 1955 to work under Principal Jimmy Bond, who had been his Unversity’s External Examiner. He got the nickname ‘Charlie’ early in his Shuttleworth time. Charlie’s fan club was formed in the late 1950s and ties were purchased. The widow of a leading member of the club remembers embroidering CFC onto each tie and still has her late husband’s tie. John and Muriel lived first at Home Farm, then Warden Cottage, Ickwell before moving to Mount Pleasant House as Warden when it became available for student accommodation in 1959. They had three children, Josephine in 1953, David in 1956 and Nicholas in 1963. John carried the responsibility for the Animal Husbandry side of the College Farm during the 1967/8 period between Principals, but in 1974 became a Farm Manager, firstly in Oxfordshire and then at Darrells Farm outside Ramsbury, Wiltshire with 5,000 pigs. Retiring nominally in 1993 and moving into Ramsbury, he worked at Hills stores and then ran the Memorial Hall, also being Treasurer to Froxfield Church, secretary to the British Legion Club and a Mole Catcher. He was a keen member of the Conservatives, joining by accident at Shuttleworth and doing a lot of work for the cause there. He subsequently had almost forty years association with the Marlborough Conservative Club in Wiltshire. John passed away in June 2014 having been unwell for some time. His cremation at Thatcham Crematorium in Berkshire on 4th July was attended by family and a few close friends. We then moved to his Parish Church in Ramsbury for the Thanksgiving Service where many friends and a number of old students, which included a goodly contingent from Cornwall, were present. We will remember him with great affection.

Graham Amos

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Obituary Bernard Cale (65/67) Sadly Bernard died in August 2013. He was a pivotal member of our Committee, passionate about the Society and what we did; his death was very sudden and left a huge gap. Bernard was originally from Herefordshire and moved to the Vale of the White Horse in the mid-1960s on leaving college. In 1991 Bernard and his wife Pam set up “Vale Game”, which is still going strong today under the direction of Pam and their son Jeremy, and with the help of a great workforce. The Cale family have been great supporters of the Fariford, Faringdon, Filkins and Burford Ploughing Match for many years, and you will always find a friendly Cale face at the site entrance welcoming us all to our show. We thank the team for their hard work again this year. At our last AGM the Committee decided to donate £1000 to a charity of the family’s choice. They have chosen the Royal Agricultural Benevolent Institution, better known to most of us as the RABI.

Nesta Pugh and the Fairford, Faringdon, Filkins and Burford Ploughing Society.

From your Newsletter Coordinator. It is very sad to have to report the passing of old friends and colleagues, but we have to recognise that we also are getting older and death is inevitable for us all, sooner or later. I am now in my late seventies and must be very thankful for the blessings of an excellent NHS, keeping me in surprisingly good health. I hope you have enjoyed reading our latest edition of the Newsletter. Please write and tell us if you have any suggestions that you think could improve or add interest and value to the publication. If you have any problems making your computer open the Newsletter, or displaying it in a way that you find easy enough to read properly, then we really do need to hear from you. I want you all to be very satisfied customers.

Please, ring, write or email – I welcome all your comments.

Tim Bryce Tel: 01295 271366 Mobile: 07734455472

E-mail: [email protected]

Your Committee would like to wish all our Readers A very Happy Christmas and Prosperous New Year

mailto:[email protected]

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COMMITTEE & OFFICERS S.C.A. 2014-15

Chairman Sarah Perrett HND 77/80 Somerset [email protected]

Vice Chairman Jonathan Mitchell HND 92/95 Lincs [email protected]

Secretary Charlotte Scott 90/92 Bedfordshire [email protected]

Treasurer Mike Williams NDA 65/67 Peterborough [email protected]

Database Manager Patrick Godwin HND 77/80 Somerset [email protected]

Committee

Sam Donald HNDBF 93/95 Denbighshire [email protected] George Nell NDA 69/71 Oxon [email protected] Nick Drury HND 81/84 Cambs [email protected] Eric Yates Retired Staff Norfolk [email protected] Tony Abbott NDA 65/67 Hants [email protected] Richard Infield ND 90/93 Beds [email protected] Sally Cartwright HND 86/89 Beds [email protected] Robert Kilbourn HND 81/84 Cambs [email protected] Claire Van Leersum HND 81/84 Cambs [email protected]

College Contact Margaret Curry 01767 626222 [email protected]

Student Representative on College staff Jo Norman [email protected] President Charlotte Friefrau John Von Twickle.

Vice Presidents J.E. Scott, S.C. Whitbread, Bill Bedser, Eric Yates and Professor Mike Alder

Secretary Charlotte Scott, Unwin Cottage, 5 Pear Tree piece, Old Warden, Biggleswade,

SG18 9FD. [email protected] Tel: 01767 626311 Mobile: 07717862747

Newsletter Coordinator Tim Bryce 37 People’s Place, Warwick Road, Banbury, Oxfordshire. OX16 0FJ. [email protected] Tel: 01295 271366 Mobile: 07734455472

( In the event of an email failing to respond please contact another committee member and request your

message be forwarded to your intended recipient.)

(The editor is looking for material for the next Newsletter as soon as this one goes to press, so please don’t delay, get writing, look for stories and send them to him as soon as possible)

*New Officers and Committee will be elected at the 2015 AGM

But even after that date please use the addresses above

Website: www.shuttleworth-sca.co.uk

SCA Newsletter Christmas 2014

Documents

Transcript of SCA Newsletter Christmas 2014