by Keith Evans
The party season is well under way. As usual the catering staff are working their aprons off to provide us with festive fayre. Many thanks to them.
The gentlemen's lunch was the usual convivial affair with sparkling conversation and good humoured banter. The ladies' lunch and the education staff party competed for the highest decibel level. I think the latter won by a fraction of a decibel despite the fact they were only having mince pies; or so they tell us. Stuart was very protective of his educationalists but I have several witnesses to confirm the results, who for security reasons remain annoymous. Of course they have plenty of practice with all those screaming children.
A request has been submitted that for next year's parties ear protectors be supplied for staff on duty. Now ladies, calm down. I'm only thinking of the health and safety of my colleagues. You know how vulnerable we are to stress which results in our early demise. Emily, can I have the next month off please?
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
Monday, 20 December 2010
Liners & Cruise Ships Ahoy 2011
by Clive S Mathison Galleries VolunteerThose who are on duty in the 'Lookout' throughout 2011 will be able to extol the development of Falmouth Docks as a 'cruise ship' rendezvous. There are some 33 visits of cruise ships carrying 22,402 passengers between January and November including The World an exotic floating residence which visited Falmouth about 2 years ago (see photograph) and caused astonishment as the Captain negotiated the huge vessel with ease through our docks area.
About The World liner
This Norwegian-built liner serves as a residential community for people from around 40 different countries. The owners buy a space for prices ranging from £500,000 to £13 million and live on board as the liner circumnavigates the globe. It is very demecratic: the passengers and Captain decide where the ship will visit and what the passengers will do ashore whilst in each port where they stay for around two to five days at a time.
The ship has some 280 passengers and residents, and a crew of about 350. 196 metres long, it has 12 decks, two of which are reserved for shopping and leisure. There are also restaurants cafes, theatre, casino and nightclub.
Cruise Ships Visiting Falmouth in 2011
An advanced list of cruise ships visiting Falmouth will be displayed in the Volunteers Lounge so that you can keep yourself up to date with arrivals and departures. The World is scheduled to arrive in Falmouth on 30 May 2011 at 1800 hours with 100 passengers.
Friday, 17 December 2010
The Arctic Museum
by the NMMC Resident Poet
The temperature across the Square
was more than purely chilly
It ate into my very bones
and even reached my chest.
I’ve worn my fleece since breakfast time
and long-johns underneath,
I think a tot of whisky now
would stop my chattering teeth.
In Front of House they have some heat
it’s warm there all the day,
The Office is quite comfy too
(It’s HOT AIR, so they say!!)
I wander through Main Hall & Hold
I wave my arms about,
It looks a bit peculiar
but keeps the cold drafts out.
On Waterfront the pool is still,
the boats are moored today,
I’ve covered up the Token Slot
to keep the folk away.
I’ve bribed the Duty Manager
like other people did,
I’m Lift Attendant for the shift
(was worth it for a quid).
It’s warm and keeps you moving
and at the second floor
I nip to have my coffee,
Could anyone want more!!!
The temperature across the Square
was more than purely chilly
It ate into my very bones
and even reached my chest.
I’ve worn my fleece since breakfast time
and long-johns underneath,
I think a tot of whisky now
would stop my chattering teeth.
In Front of House they have some heat
it’s warm there all the day,
The Office is quite comfy too
(It’s HOT AIR, so they say!!)
I wander through Main Hall & Hold
I wave my arms about,
It looks a bit peculiar
but keeps the cold drafts out.
On Waterfront the pool is still,
the boats are moored today,
I’ve covered up the Token Slot
to keep the folk away.
I’ve bribed the Duty Manager
like other people did,
I’m Lift Attendant for the shift
(was worth it for a quid).
It’s warm and keeps you moving
and at the second floor
I nip to have my coffee,
Could anyone want more!!!
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
Santa Fun Run
Thanks to everyone who helped us raise more than £660 for Cornwall Hospice Care last week. We dressed up in Santa suits & joined more than 200 other Santas in running 3 miles around the streets of Falmouth on Saturday. The event was a huge success & there was a very jolly atmosphere.
Monday, 29 November 2010
Snow way to treat us
Outside, Falmouth is beginning to look Christmasy and the little red robins are queueing up to have their photos taken.
In the middle of a storm, one of the crew of Dardenella edged his way along the boom, his feet hanging down on either side. He lay down on the boom and started doing something terribly technical while four people stood beneath him, handing up a tool every now and then. The hail continued to pelt down.
One wondered whether he might have waited an hour or two before doing the work. Being Falmouth. it was a surprise that he was wearing any more than a t-shirt and shorts.The snow had one unexpected advantage: it showed up the grinning smiley face on Dardenella. Can you see it?
Thursday, 25 November 2010
A new type of measurement is introduced to the Museum
by Sarah Riddle
Tucked away at Ponsharden, two volunteers, Anne and Heather put together a new boat for the collection. This is a Fairey Folding Boat, although it does look slightly odd and perhaps more like a sledge than a boat. The duo are responsible for labelling all boats in the collection and squirreling them away until they are needed for display.
Anne and Heather attempt to build the boat.
Deciding that neither metric nor imperial measurements were up to the job of boat recording they decided to invent a new measurement. May we introduce the Heather!
Tucked away at Ponsharden, two volunteers, Anne and Heather put together a new boat for the collection. This is a Fairey Folding Boat, although it does look slightly odd and perhaps more like a sledge than a boat. The duo are responsible for labelling all boats in the collection and squirreling them away until they are needed for display.Anne and Heather attempt to build the boat.
Deciding that neither metric nor imperial measurements were up to the job of boat recording they decided to invent a new measurement. May we introduce the Heather!
Can you tell what it is yet?
John Mitchell took this photo but can you guess where he was standing when he took it?Answers on the usual postcard
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
Grumpy Volunteer's Corner
by Keith Evans
Winter has arrived. The crabs have disappeared, doing whatever crabs do in the Winter. The penguin has reappeared, perched on top of the iceberg in the pool. The polar bear however has not reappeared. Probably hibernating, sensible chap.
Trevor & Phil have been busy as usual. They were staggering around with metal poles and frames last week. I thought they were assembling a cage for naughty kids but no such luck. It turned out to be scaffolding to reach a leak in the roof. I wouldn't have bothered. I'd have put a boat on the puddle & use it as another exhibit.
It's been fairly quiet recently as one might expect. One irritating matriarch with a down-trodden husband appeared on Waterfront. Brandishing a token she said "Now what do I do with this?" Don't tempt me, I thought. I started her off. "Oh Horace, isn't this jolly" she said. Horace was slumped on the bench staring glumly down at the decking. I was never so relieved to see the red light on the consul go out. "Come on Horace, I'm going up the tower" she said. Horace followed obediently. I'd push her off it I were you Horace, I thought.
On another quiet session, the fans had been off most of the time, a couple of ancient, very ancient, OAPs came dancing across the Hall as fast as their walking sticks would take them. "Can we have a go on the boats?" she asked gleefully. I set them off. Squeals of laughter echoed across the pool as the boats went around in circles. After it was over they thanked me & went off up the ramp. I fully expected to see them jump into the liferaft. Why can't all kids be so pleasant?
Winter has arrived. The crabs have disappeared, doing whatever crabs do in the Winter. The penguin has reappeared, perched on top of the iceberg in the pool. The polar bear however has not reappeared. Probably hibernating, sensible chap.
Trevor & Phil have been busy as usual. They were staggering around with metal poles and frames last week. I thought they were assembling a cage for naughty kids but no such luck. It turned out to be scaffolding to reach a leak in the roof. I wouldn't have bothered. I'd have put a boat on the puddle & use it as another exhibit.
It's been fairly quiet recently as one might expect. One irritating matriarch with a down-trodden husband appeared on Waterfront. Brandishing a token she said "Now what do I do with this?" Don't tempt me, I thought. I started her off. "Oh Horace, isn't this jolly" she said. Horace was slumped on the bench staring glumly down at the decking. I was never so relieved to see the red light on the consul go out. "Come on Horace, I'm going up the tower" she said. Horace followed obediently. I'd push her off it I were you Horace, I thought.
On another quiet session, the fans had been off most of the time, a couple of ancient, very ancient, OAPs came dancing across the Hall as fast as their walking sticks would take them. "Can we have a go on the boats?" she asked gleefully. I set them off. Squeals of laughter echoed across the pool as the boats went around in circles. After it was over they thanked me & went off up the ramp. I fully expected to see them jump into the liferaft. Why can't all kids be so pleasant?
Thursday, 18 November 2010
Day Trip to ss Great Britain
by Anne Pond
On 6 November three volunteers from the library went on a day trip to Bristol to a South West Maritime History Society meeting, held at the newly opened Brunel Institute. The building had only been handed over to the ss Great Britain Trust the day before, so we were privileged to be the first group to have a meeting in the conference room and also have a brief look around the new David MacGregor library, which is to be opened later this month. The library will hold maritime reference books and also the national Brunel Archive Collection, handed over to them from the Bristol University and will become a further reference point for all things in maritime history, in the south west. Here at the Bartlett Library we are hoping to have a close contact with the David MacGregor Library; especially as some of our duplicate Lloyds registers have found their way to Bristol.
The day was very enjoyable, in the morning we learnt a little more about the fate of the passenger and cargo ship City of Adelaide, (one of two surviving composite clippers) between London and Plymouth to Adelaide, and although not for definite, looks like she will be once again travelling the seas to Adelaide, Australia. We also heard about a 17th century wreck in Poole Harbour and the problems of recording and preserving the wreck. And lastly, the history and stories of the destroyer HMS Venomous and the people who served on her, built after WW1, was ‘mothballed’ and then fought in and surrvived WW2.
At these meetings the SWMHS presents an award to members who have made a contribution to maritime research and on this occasion Tony was presented an award for his contribution to maritime historical research.
In the afternoon we were given free time to look around the ss Great Britain, which was very interesting. To preserve the ship she is in the Great Western Dock and her hull is encased by glass with water on top, and underneath the environment is similar to a ‘desert’. Steps lead down to a walkway around her hull, then you have an opportunity to visit the museum full of much memorabilia, finally to walk on deck the ship herself and imagine the fine cruising and conditions of life on board at the time.
Leaving Cornwall early to get to Bristol by 10.00am our drive on the A30 and up the M5 went quickly as Tony and I were regaled with many stories of the ss Great Britain whilst in the Falklands from our driver Geoff - Geoff told us all about the ss Great Britain before she left the Falklands – as he was living there with his family, in the late 1960s/early 1970s. He spent many times diving in and around the area of Sparrow Cove where she was grounded in 1846. Over the years since, many parts of her had found their way into people’s homes in the Falklands. When she departed many artefacts were returned. One of the ship’s heads, which Geoff claimed on one of his dives, then painted grey, was used as a geranium pot in Geoff’s garden. He kindly donated this piece back to the trust after his return to the UK – and there it was in the museum, still painted grey! Geoff had watched the ss Great Britain leave the Falklands in April 1970 and I, as a mere teenager with my family, watched her arrive in Bristol in July 1970.
If anyone is interested in finding out about the South West Maritime History Society please pop into the Bartlett Library.
Anne, Geoff and Tony
On 6 November three volunteers from the library went on a day trip to Bristol to a South West Maritime History Society meeting, held at the newly opened Brunel Institute. The building had only been handed over to the ss Great Britain Trust the day before, so we were privileged to be the first group to have a meeting in the conference room and also have a brief look around the new David MacGregor library, which is to be opened later this month. The library will hold maritime reference books and also the national Brunel Archive Collection, handed over to them from the Bristol University and will become a further reference point for all things in maritime history, in the south west. Here at the Bartlett Library we are hoping to have a close contact with the David MacGregor Library; especially as some of our duplicate Lloyds registers have found their way to Bristol.The day was very enjoyable, in the morning we learnt a little more about the fate of the passenger and cargo ship City of Adelaide, (one of two surviving composite clippers) between London and Plymouth to Adelaide, and although not for definite, looks like she will be once again travelling the seas to Adelaide, Australia. We also heard about a 17th century wreck in Poole Harbour and the problems of recording and preserving the wreck. And lastly, the history and stories of the destroyer HMS Venomous and the people who served on her, built after WW1, was ‘mothballed’ and then fought in and surrvived WW2.
At these meetings the SWMHS presents an award to members who have made a contribution to maritime research and on this occasion Tony was presented an award for his contribution to maritime historical research.
In the afternoon we were given free time to look around the ss Great Britain, which was very interesting. To preserve the ship she is in the Great Western Dock and her hull is encased by glass with water on top, and underneath the environment is similar to a ‘desert’. Steps lead down to a walkway around her hull, then you have an opportunity to visit the museum full of much memorabilia, finally to walk on deck the ship herself and imagine the fine cruising and conditions of life on board at the time.
Leaving Cornwall early to get to Bristol by 10.00am our drive on the A30 and up the M5 went quickly as Tony and I were regaled with many stories of the ss Great Britain whilst in the Falklands from our driver Geoff - Geoff told us all about the ss Great Britain before she left the Falklands – as he was living there with his family, in the late 1960s/early 1970s. He spent many times diving in and around the area of Sparrow Cove where she was grounded in 1846. Over the years since, many parts of her had found their way into people’s homes in the Falklands. When she departed many artefacts were returned. One of the ship’s heads, which Geoff claimed on one of his dives, then painted grey, was used as a geranium pot in Geoff’s garden. He kindly donated this piece back to the trust after his return to the UK – and there it was in the museum, still painted grey! Geoff had watched the ss Great Britain leave the Falklands in April 1970 and I, as a mere teenager with my family, watched her arrive in Bristol in July 1970.
If anyone is interested in finding out about the South West Maritime History Society please pop into the Bartlett Library.
Anne, Geoff and Tony
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
No job too small (or big)...
Just remove the display units from the Quarterdeck & put them in the workshop they said.So, after removing a window & rigging up a few pulleys that's exactly what Graham, Trevor & Co did!
Monday, 15 November 2010
School feedback
This 'thank you' card was received last week from a school child that had enjoyed their visit to the museum. Whilst here they attended a 'Ships & Parcels' workshop. The picture apparently reflects the Captain William Rogers painting in the Falmouth gallery but is an interesting interpretation!
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
Wear it Pink 2010
Thanks to everyone who wore something pink last Thursday.
We raised £39.55 for the Wear it Pink breast cancer campaign charity.
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Halloween Shenanigans
Well done to Debs & the team for conjuring up a wonderfully scary team of ghosts & ghouls, (some of whom completely lost their heads!) for the museum's Night at the Museum Halloween event on Friday.It is a very popular event with tickets having sold out a few days before & some families who came having been to previous years' events.
After watching the movie 'Night at the Museum 2', visitors were given a spooky torch-lit tour of the building during which they encountered a severed head, a wailing washer woman, a dead Lighthouse Keeper & a headless corpse searching for its missing part.
Monday, 1 November 2010
The ten best places to see in the world?
UNESCO, the people who run World Heritage Sites, have just completed a survey of the top ten WHSs to see. These are:
The ten in best condition are:
- Angkor, Cambodia
- Historic Center of Rome, the Properties of the Holy See, Italy
- Historic Center of Florence, Italy
- Historic Areas of Istanbul, Turkey
- Old and New Towns of Edinburgh, Scotland
- Historic Center of Prague, Czech Republic
- Venice and its Lagoon, Venezia, Italy
- Works of Antoni GaudÃ, Barcelona, Spain
- Westminster Palace, Westminster Abbey and Saint Margaret's Cathedral, London, England
- Historic Center of Vienna, Austria
The ten in best condition are:
- Monticello and the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, USA
- Blenheim Palace, Oxfordshire, England
- Place Stanislas, Place de la Carrière and Place d'Alliance, Nancy, France
- Hiroshima Peace Memorial, Hiroshima, Japan
- Convent of St Gall, Switzerland
- Bahá'i Holy Places in Haifa and the Western Galilee, Isreal
- Old City of Dubrovnik, Croatia
- Te Wahipounamu, South West New Zealand
- Historic Sanctuary of Machu Picchu, Peru
- Jiuzhaigou Valley Scenic and Historic Interest Area, China
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
Banksy at the NMMC?
When Graham & the lads turned up for work on Monday morning something told them that the NMMC Exhibitions Officer had been feeling unloved over the weekend.
Monday, 18 October 2010
Anne joins in
Pictured here are Anne's MA tutor, former Museum Trustee and conference organiser Helen Doe, with Curator Sarah Riddle sporting her Hollywood smile.
Friday, 8 October 2010
Hi Ho Silver!
Sheila, Michael, Andy & Amy put their glad rags on last night & went to the Cornwall Tourism Awards.After a bit of a false start with Sheila's car breaking down en route, they eventually arrived at the St Mellion International Hotel & Country Club just as the evening kicked off.
After winning the bronze award for Large Visitor Attraction twice (2005 & 2006) and the gold award twice (2007 & 2008), we needed a silver award to give us a full complement of colours.
And this is exactly what we got. Well done us!
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith Evans
The last of the cruise passengers who 'do' Cornwall in twelve hours have disappeared over the horizon. The most memorable couple were a young man and his mouse-like wife on their first cruise. They were very anxious about sea-sickness. Shall I tell them about my remedy, I thought. It's porridge. Well, it doesn't actually cure it but tastes the same coming up as it did going down. Better not, I thought. It will demoralise them still further. I tried to reassure them. 'Don't worry,' I said 'they have stabilisers.' To which she replied 'Oh, I'm not taking drugs.' I gave up.
Talking of liners, reminds me of George, my old sailing partner who sadly died last year. He and I have the dubious honour of making the old Queen Elizabeth change course. One summer's day we decided to plane across Spithead in a fresh breeze leaving our wives sunning themselves on the beach. After an icecream at Bembridge we started back. A mile off shore the wind dropped and the sails hung limp. There was nothing for it but to lay back and enjoy the sunshine. I glanced to the south.
'George' I said 'there's a liner rounding the Nab Tower'. George grunted and dozed off, wriggling to get comfortable. Albacores aren't the most comfortable boats to sleep in. A few minutes later I looked again. 'George, that damn thing is coming straight for us.' Within seconds we were paddling but getting nowhere. Then it seemed to change course slightly and slow down. It passed a couple of hundred yards ahead of us. After weathering its wash we breathed a sigh of relief. That was too close for comfort. A few minutes later the breeze piped up and we arrived back at East Head over an hour later than planned with the irate wives standing on the beach.
'Where have have you two been? Did you see the Q.E?' I said 'See it? We almost had to fend her off.' They didn't believe us.
The last of the cruise passengers who 'do' Cornwall in twelve hours have disappeared over the horizon. The most memorable couple were a young man and his mouse-like wife on their first cruise. They were very anxious about sea-sickness. Shall I tell them about my remedy, I thought. It's porridge. Well, it doesn't actually cure it but tastes the same coming up as it did going down. Better not, I thought. It will demoralise them still further. I tried to reassure them. 'Don't worry,' I said 'they have stabilisers.' To which she replied 'Oh, I'm not taking drugs.' I gave up.
Talking of liners, reminds me of George, my old sailing partner who sadly died last year. He and I have the dubious honour of making the old Queen Elizabeth change course. One summer's day we decided to plane across Spithead in a fresh breeze leaving our wives sunning themselves on the beach. After an icecream at Bembridge we started back. A mile off shore the wind dropped and the sails hung limp. There was nothing for it but to lay back and enjoy the sunshine. I glanced to the south.
'George' I said 'there's a liner rounding the Nab Tower'. George grunted and dozed off, wriggling to get comfortable. Albacores aren't the most comfortable boats to sleep in. A few minutes later I looked again. 'George, that damn thing is coming straight for us.' Within seconds we were paddling but getting nowhere. Then it seemed to change course slightly and slow down. It passed a couple of hundred yards ahead of us. After weathering its wash we breathed a sigh of relief. That was too close for comfort. A few minutes later the breeze piped up and we arrived back at East Head over an hour later than planned with the irate wives standing on the beach.
'Where have have you two been? Did you see the Q.E?' I said 'See it? We almost had to fend her off.' They didn't believe us.
Museum's best kept secret?
I thought I'd share this visitor survey form with everyone. It confirms our suspicions that few visitors actually find the Cornwall galleries.
Friday, 1 October 2010
Photo archive under way
Now, thanks to some cunning programming by Ian Wilson, we have a sophisticated (?) and searchable Archive database which can include photographs as well. All we need to do now is to scan in the photographs.
Here, Lynne Vosper dons the magic blue gloves (white are so passe, my dear), grabs the badger-hair brush, scanner and keyboard, and starts work on the labour of love. Regular reports reach the office 'We are up to 13 now ...'. Don't tell them but there are only about 1977 (and counting) to go.
Wednesday, 29 September 2010
Caption Competition
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Here's a bit of fun for you. The boys were snapped this morning on their hands & knees. But what were they up to?First entry is: "Trevor holds morning prayers for the maintenance team"
The Right Type of Galleries Chappie
by the NMMC Resident Poet
A Volunteer applicant
should really be aware,
of just what type of person
we want to work in there.
I cannot speak for Ladies;
But the Men should please take heed,
Maturity and breeding
is really what we need.
A sense of humour is required
(without it you’d go mad)
“Funny Ha Ha” is OK
“Peculiar” is bad!
The Management likes humble folk,
who always will obey,
and anyone complaining
should be careful what they say!
It should always be remembered,
that the Roster MUST be filled
no shopping trips or holidays,
(One’s wife will just be thrilled!!)
Dress sense is important
The blue shirt is quite smart
the Name tag, Fleece & happy smile,
will make you look the part
A cultured English accent
gives our Visitors a clue,
there’s educated folk to help
-and know the answers too!!
No reading books on Waterfront
no skulking in the Hold,
for DMs know just where to look
(you’ll get your fortune told!!)
We may not ALL be Sailors
(some aren’t Cornishmen, to boot)
But we can point out the Toilets,
and know the shortest route!
***********
A Volunteer applicant
should really be aware,
of just what type of person
we want to work in there.
I cannot speak for Ladies;
But the Men should please take heed,
Maturity and breeding
is really what we need.
A sense of humour is required
(without it you’d go mad)
“Funny Ha Ha” is OK
“Peculiar” is bad!
The Management likes humble folk,
who always will obey,
and anyone complaining
should be careful what they say!
It should always be remembered,
that the Roster MUST be filled
no shopping trips or holidays,
(One’s wife will just be thrilled!!)
Dress sense is important
The blue shirt is quite smart
the Name tag, Fleece & happy smile,
will make you look the part
A cultured English accent
gives our Visitors a clue,
there’s educated folk to help
-and know the answers too!!
No reading books on Waterfront
no skulking in the Hold,
for DMs know just where to look
(you’ll get your fortune told!!)
We may not ALL be Sailors
(some aren’t Cornishmen, to boot)
But we can point out the Toilets,
and know the shortest route!
***********
Monday, 27 September 2010
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith Evans
A chorus of clacking has been heard coming from the pontoon as the crabs celebrate the end of the crabbing season. Yields have been small this year because of a work to rule ordered by the Crab Union because of the imposition of new protocols.
The bait leaves much to be desired and not only do the baiting bags prevent access to the supposedly tasty morsels but the bags themselves are not laundered to keep them clean. Next season the Crab Union demand a regular 'maniclaw', sorry manicure, service for its members who suffer as a result of the above. The Union is also concerned that two volunteers are assigned to harness its members.
The new identification charts are also a retrograde step in that they infringe the crab members rights to anonymity. However, the Union is pleased that a bell has been introduced, when it is used, to mark the end of the session, indicating to the crab members that it is safe to return to the pontoon. The Union have requested meaningful negotiations before any new conditions are imposed and to resolve outstanding difficulties.
A chorus of clacking has been heard coming from the pontoon as the crabs celebrate the end of the crabbing season. Yields have been small this year because of a work to rule ordered by the Crab Union because of the imposition of new protocols.
The bait leaves much to be desired and not only do the baiting bags prevent access to the supposedly tasty morsels but the bags themselves are not laundered to keep them clean. Next season the Crab Union demand a regular 'maniclaw', sorry manicure, service for its members who suffer as a result of the above. The Union is also concerned that two volunteers are assigned to harness its members.
The new identification charts are also a retrograde step in that they infringe the crab members rights to anonymity. However, the Union is pleased that a bell has been introduced, when it is used, to mark the end of the session, indicating to the crab members that it is safe to return to the pontoon. The Union have requested meaningful negotiations before any new conditions are imposed and to resolve outstanding difficulties.
Monday, 20 September 2010
Social Conversation in 1912
by Mike Pennell
As a schoolboy, I can remember trying to talk to classroom misfits who did not listen to Dick Barton, Special Agent on a nightly basis at 6.45 pm; my Father wouldn’t have a discussion with anyone who did not read Time magazine, and in my adult life I became a social outcast when I admitted I have never watched an episode of Coronation Street.
A similar situation applies in the Volunteers’ Lounge, but with many more permutations. Obviously the first requirement is to be Cornish, and reside in Falmouth (my Truro copy of
The Packet has different news, and I only know one route to get to the car park). Spending leisure hours afloat in a yacht is quite a popular pastime, and if you don’t understand 'gybing' and 'rounding the mark' (something to do with German currency?), one sits there listening & nodding agreement with a slight smile.
There are two major factors that make or stifle 'coffee room' conversation. One is television viewing, and one’s capability to watch Sky by having a 'dish' (without one, you can’t watch 16th Century Inca Eating Habits).
The other relates to the possession of a computer. The Maritime Museum has to accept some blame for persuading us to own a PC or laptop, since many instructions and much information is sent out in that medium, and it does help those who spend time on broadband trying to identify strange super-yachts that arrive on the marina.
You don’t have to be a 'nerdy geek', but discussing ' re-booting', 'inserting hyperlinks' or 'synchronous scrolling' is child’s play if you know your way around the keyboard and, of course, have spent hundreds of pounds buying the latest model with Windows 7, Intel whatnots and gigabytes.
The Solution: Bearing in mind the Wardroom guideline that religion, politics and sex should not be discussed, and in order to facilitate conversation in 1912, each shift roster should be comprised of Volunteers who have been carefully screened by HR, because it is pointless opening a discussion on 'The stowage factor of frozen New Zealand lamb' with four people whose backgrounds vary from agriculture to motor mechanics, via deep sea diving and ancient history. A master list of Volunteers could be posted and a list of subject skills ticked in boxes, with similar background talents colour-coded so that each Volunteer can choose the correct shift to attend in order to exchange meaningful views when relaxing.
If this is deemed unworkable, I suppose we shall just have to start talking to visitors!
As a schoolboy, I can remember trying to talk to classroom misfits who did not listen to Dick Barton, Special Agent on a nightly basis at 6.45 pm; my Father wouldn’t have a discussion with anyone who did not read Time magazine, and in my adult life I became a social outcast when I admitted I have never watched an episode of Coronation Street.
A similar situation applies in the Volunteers’ Lounge, but with many more permutations. Obviously the first requirement is to be Cornish, and reside in Falmouth (my Truro copy of
The Packet has different news, and I only know one route to get to the car park). Spending leisure hours afloat in a yacht is quite a popular pastime, and if you don’t understand 'gybing' and 'rounding the mark' (something to do with German currency?), one sits there listening & nodding agreement with a slight smile.
There are two major factors that make or stifle 'coffee room' conversation. One is television viewing, and one’s capability to watch Sky by having a 'dish' (without one, you can’t watch 16th Century Inca Eating Habits).
The other relates to the possession of a computer. The Maritime Museum has to accept some blame for persuading us to own a PC or laptop, since many instructions and much information is sent out in that medium, and it does help those who spend time on broadband trying to identify strange super-yachts that arrive on the marina.
You don’t have to be a 'nerdy geek', but discussing ' re-booting', 'inserting hyperlinks' or 'synchronous scrolling' is child’s play if you know your way around the keyboard and, of course, have spent hundreds of pounds buying the latest model with Windows 7, Intel whatnots and gigabytes.
The Solution: Bearing in mind the Wardroom guideline that religion, politics and sex should not be discussed, and in order to facilitate conversation in 1912, each shift roster should be comprised of Volunteers who have been carefully screened by HR, because it is pointless opening a discussion on 'The stowage factor of frozen New Zealand lamb' with four people whose backgrounds vary from agriculture to motor mechanics, via deep sea diving and ancient history. A master list of Volunteers could be posted and a list of subject skills ticked in boxes, with similar background talents colour-coded so that each Volunteer can choose the correct shift to attend in order to exchange meaningful views when relaxing.
If this is deemed unworkable, I suppose we shall just have to start talking to visitors!
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith Evans
I arrived on the Waterfront to find it heaving with kids from 4 to 84. Trevor was wrestling with the token machine which had decided to have a temper tantrum and refused to disgorge any tokens. After a few minutes it decided to behave. Just then Number 3 boat decided it had had enough & went into a corner to sulk and refused to play. Can't blame it really. As punishment Trevor put it in the cupboard.
In the meantime there were two cases of boat abuse. One little brat turned the switch off and another urchin played submarines. In my best diplomatic manner I gave them a metaphorical clip around the ear. It was a normal session on Waterfront & then something unique occurred. The rock lighthouse broke adrift & floated away. The first time in history a rock lighthouse has absconded. Trevor was on the job again & eventually got it back in position. He'll go down in the annals of Trinity House as the only man who has brought back an errant rock lighthouse.
I arrived on the Waterfront to find it heaving with kids from 4 to 84. Trevor was wrestling with the token machine which had decided to have a temper tantrum and refused to disgorge any tokens. After a few minutes it decided to behave. Just then Number 3 boat decided it had had enough & went into a corner to sulk and refused to play. Can't blame it really. As punishment Trevor put it in the cupboard.
In the meantime there were two cases of boat abuse. One little brat turned the switch off and another urchin played submarines. In my best diplomatic manner I gave them a metaphorical clip around the ear. It was a normal session on Waterfront & then something unique occurred. The rock lighthouse broke adrift & floated away. The first time in history a rock lighthouse has absconded. Trevor was on the job again & eventually got it back in position. He'll go down in the annals of Trinity House as the only man who has brought back an errant rock lighthouse.
Friday, 3 September 2010
It's all changed
by Mike Pennell
I have often smiled when visitors in the Lookout try to orientate themselves after their last Falmouth visit – sometimes many years ago. Now I understand their problem.
On our recent cruise holiday I was delighted to be visiting Gibraltar again. I was last there for two months in 1959 when aboard a destroyer in drydock after a rather serious collision. The town was full of Jolly Jacks and Jenny Wrens & the harbour full of Grey Funnel ships. In 2010, had it not been for the large lump of rock in the background I would not have recognized the place. No RN ships, no sailors – just acres of new flats and offices – I couldn’t even find the drydock!
Oh well, in a few days time
we were in Livorno (Leghorn). I was operating there every four weeks for a year in 1961. Yes! There is the breakwater and the detached mole – and the small quay where we loaded Carrera marble; but it appears to be a Marina area now. Sure enough, we entered the harbour, but steamed past the old town and headed north into a vast new port area some 4 kilometres away. Vast container cranes abounded, there were thousands of containers on the quayside and an immense Hapag Lloyd ship disgorging even more. They told us it was Livorno and we flew an Italian courtesy ensign, so I must accept that it was.
Maybe it’s not a good idea to re-visit old haunts, at least not 50 years later.
I have often smiled when visitors in the Lookout try to orientate themselves after their last Falmouth visit – sometimes many years ago. Now I understand their problem.
On our recent cruise holiday I was delighted to be visiting Gibraltar again. I was last there for two months in 1959 when aboard a destroyer in drydock after a rather serious collision. The town was full of Jolly Jacks and Jenny Wrens & the harbour full of Grey Funnel ships. In 2010, had it not been for the large lump of rock in the background I would not have recognized the place. No RN ships, no sailors – just acres of new flats and offices – I couldn’t even find the drydock!
Oh well, in a few days time
we were in Livorno (Leghorn). I was operating there every four weeks for a year in 1961. Yes! There is the breakwater and the detached mole – and the small quay where we loaded Carrera marble; but it appears to be a Marina area now. Sure enough, we entered the harbour, but steamed past the old town and headed north into a vast new port area some 4 kilometres away. Vast container cranes abounded, there were thousands of containers on the quayside and an immense Hapag Lloyd ship disgorging even more. They told us it was Livorno and we flew an Italian courtesy ensign, so I must accept that it was.Maybe it’s not a good idea to re-visit old haunts, at least not 50 years later.
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
What would you do?
by Denise & Robert Davey (& Blue) on board Barolo
Life ashore in marinas in between sailing is usually placid enough, but the arrival of the summer season brings with it a surge of activity. Well, here are three little situations that we have encountered in the last month that made us pause for thought.
The first took place one hot Sunday afternoon of calm torpor. By teatime we stirred ourselves to take a shower in the sanitaires about 5 minutes from the boat. The skipper was ready first and I took my time to saunter back to the boat, contemplating what to cook for dinner. When I got back, I found a racing boat (an X-yacht 412) had moored alongside us, the crew all looking sheepish and determinedly avoiding eye-contact. When I got on board, I found the skipper incandescent. In the time between leaving our boat and returning, a large dent had appeared in the rail joining the deck to the hull on the side next to the racing yacht. He had tackled the skipper, who denied vehemently all knowledge. His boat was part of a group of 5 boats who had all arrived together and whose skippers were quick to support his claim. In fact he gathered together 4 people and enlisted the testimony of a passing harbour boatman to witness that his boat had not touched ours. Odd that so many people should have been aware of nothing happening. Anyway, how did we know that the damage hadn’t already been done, he demanded, with a winsome, intentionally charming, gallic shrug. His girlfriend came on deck clutching a pennant which she slowly and deliberately ran up their forestay. It read in huge letters, “LUTTE CONTRA CANCER” “HOSPITALS DE PARIS”. She was followed on deck by 5 children aged between 7 and 12. Two of them clearly showed signs of the results of chemotherapy and all looked distinctly frail. How could we continue such an argument? They were part of a charitable group taking desperately sick children sailing, yet they had lied to save their reputation. We let it drop, but should we have done? Judicious use of a hammer ironed out the problem that could have been solved by a simple apology.
The second involved a Welsh couple who had a really bad stroke of luck. This was their first trip south and although they had sailed together near Swansea for fifteen years they were both rather nervous and somewhat intimidated by the differences between the cultures. They wanted to head off northwards to Brest but the wife had laundry to get done first. The marina provided a washing machine and dryer for the use of the visiting yachtsmen, but not soap powder. We took them to the local supermarket and left them to buy 'lessive', thinking no more of them until we bumped into them later that night. Instead of using the powder that they had bought, the English man on the boat moored next to them had convinced them that they should take their laundry to the laundrette in town which would dry and fold their washing for them. Bearing in mind that we had encountered them at 9 o’clock in the evening, waiting outside the laundrette in question. The assistant in the laundrette had apparently told them to come back either in ten hours or at ten o’clock, they weren’t sure which. The sign on the door gave the opening times and stated that the shop would be closed on Sunday and Monday. The likelihood of anyone coming back to work at 10 o’clock on a Saturday night seemed rather remote, so we offered them some bed linen to tide them over. To make matters worse, they could see their laundry neatly bagged up and waiting for them inside the door. Glumly the man said that they’d just have to wait until Tuesday to pick up their washing – pretty expensive at €35 per night! We would have jettisoned the washing, but when we left the next morning they were still well and truly staying in port.
The third took place this morning, just as we were preparing to leave Port Haliguen marina in the Baie de Quiberon. This area is one of the most popular seaside resorts in Brittany, which is saying something. The traffic on land is gridlocked, so, as you might imagine, the movement in the marinas is pretty hectic. Moreover, because tides play an important part in most people’s schedules, everyone tends to arrive, moor up and leave port together. So, this morning there were continuously three or four large yachts of between 8 and 15 tons on the move at any time in quite a restricted space. The skippers came in all degrees of competence from weathered Douarnenez yachtsmen to families spending their first time on board on huge catamarans. Amongst this chaos, a boat near us had a crew of a middle-aged couple and their two grandchildren. They spent some time dressing the boy and girl in large, vividly coloured lifejackets and set two plastic canoes in the water into which they excitedly climbed and started enthusiastically paddling. We were on the move and shouted to the children to get out of the way of ourselves and a wooden boat manoeuvring backwards out of its berth. Added to which, the water was showing signs of … how should I put this delicately? … well, I wouldn’t let our spaniel swim in it. Who would the loving grandparents, who had bought the toys so thoughtfully, have blamed, I wonder, had a child been knocked into the water by the wash of a passing boat. Had they not drowned, a nasty dose of ecoli poisoning would almost certainly be the outcome, despite wearing life-jackets. I thought of suggesting they got their charges back on board, and fast, but by the time I’d worked out what to say in French, we were outside the port.
So, were we guilty of doing nothing when we should have interfered or taken things further? I’m not sure, but what would you have done?
Life ashore in marinas in between sailing is usually placid enough, but the arrival of the summer season brings with it a surge of activity. Well, here are three little situations that we have encountered in the last month that made us pause for thought.
The first took place one hot Sunday afternoon of calm torpor. By teatime we stirred ourselves to take a shower in the sanitaires about 5 minutes from the boat. The skipper was ready first and I took my time to saunter back to the boat, contemplating what to cook for dinner. When I got back, I found a racing boat (an X-yacht 412) had moored alongside us, the crew all looking sheepish and determinedly avoiding eye-contact. When I got on board, I found the skipper incandescent. In the time between leaving our boat and returning, a large dent had appeared in the rail joining the deck to the hull on the side next to the racing yacht. He had tackled the skipper, who denied vehemently all knowledge. His boat was part of a group of 5 boats who had all arrived together and whose skippers were quick to support his claim. In fact he gathered together 4 people and enlisted the testimony of a passing harbour boatman to witness that his boat had not touched ours. Odd that so many people should have been aware of nothing happening. Anyway, how did we know that the damage hadn’t already been done, he demanded, with a winsome, intentionally charming, gallic shrug. His girlfriend came on deck clutching a pennant which she slowly and deliberately ran up their forestay. It read in huge letters, “LUTTE CONTRA CANCER” “HOSPITALS DE PARIS”. She was followed on deck by 5 children aged between 7 and 12. Two of them clearly showed signs of the results of chemotherapy and all looked distinctly frail. How could we continue such an argument? They were part of a charitable group taking desperately sick children sailing, yet they had lied to save their reputation. We let it drop, but should we have done? Judicious use of a hammer ironed out the problem that could have been solved by a simple apology.
The second involved a Welsh couple who had a really bad stroke of luck. This was their first trip south and although they had sailed together near Swansea for fifteen years they were both rather nervous and somewhat intimidated by the differences between the cultures. They wanted to head off northwards to Brest but the wife had laundry to get done first. The marina provided a washing machine and dryer for the use of the visiting yachtsmen, but not soap powder. We took them to the local supermarket and left them to buy 'lessive', thinking no more of them until we bumped into them later that night. Instead of using the powder that they had bought, the English man on the boat moored next to them had convinced them that they should take their laundry to the laundrette in town which would dry and fold their washing for them. Bearing in mind that we had encountered them at 9 o’clock in the evening, waiting outside the laundrette in question. The assistant in the laundrette had apparently told them to come back either in ten hours or at ten o’clock, they weren’t sure which. The sign on the door gave the opening times and stated that the shop would be closed on Sunday and Monday. The likelihood of anyone coming back to work at 10 o’clock on a Saturday night seemed rather remote, so we offered them some bed linen to tide them over. To make matters worse, they could see their laundry neatly bagged up and waiting for them inside the door. Glumly the man said that they’d just have to wait until Tuesday to pick up their washing – pretty expensive at €35 per night! We would have jettisoned the washing, but when we left the next morning they were still well and truly staying in port.
The third took place this morning, just as we were preparing to leave Port Haliguen marina in the Baie de Quiberon. This area is one of the most popular seaside resorts in Brittany, which is saying something. The traffic on land is gridlocked, so, as you might imagine, the movement in the marinas is pretty hectic. Moreover, because tides play an important part in most people’s schedules, everyone tends to arrive, moor up and leave port together. So, this morning there were continuously three or four large yachts of between 8 and 15 tons on the move at any time in quite a restricted space. The skippers came in all degrees of competence from weathered Douarnenez yachtsmen to families spending their first time on board on huge catamarans. Amongst this chaos, a boat near us had a crew of a middle-aged couple and their two grandchildren. They spent some time dressing the boy and girl in large, vividly coloured lifejackets and set two plastic canoes in the water into which they excitedly climbed and started enthusiastically paddling. We were on the move and shouted to the children to get out of the way of ourselves and a wooden boat manoeuvring backwards out of its berth. Added to which, the water was showing signs of … how should I put this delicately? … well, I wouldn’t let our spaniel swim in it. Who would the loving grandparents, who had bought the toys so thoughtfully, have blamed, I wonder, had a child been knocked into the water by the wash of a passing boat. Had they not drowned, a nasty dose of ecoli poisoning would almost certainly be the outcome, despite wearing life-jackets. I thought of suggesting they got their charges back on board, and fast, but by the time I’d worked out what to say in French, we were outside the port.
So, were we guilty of doing nothing when we should have interfered or taken things further? I’m not sure, but what would you have done?
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
A favourite visitor?
A very busy day today and some dear, delightful, friendly visitor left fresh chewing gum in the headphones in the Hold. The result: we had to unstick a young man's hair. The web advised everything form cooking oil to peanut butter. The young man preferred water for some reason.
Don't you just love their sense of humour (not!)
Don't you just love their sense of humour (not!)
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith Evans
All the excitement in the lighthouse exhibition is not good for me. I came across an amorous couple having a smooch in a dark corner. I don't know whether any of my colleagues have had a similar experience - no I don't mean smooching in a dark corner - I mean... ah, never mind. I looked up the protocol in 'Guidelines for Volunteers'. There was plenty of trivia such as visitors falling off the pontoon or kids looking for lost parents, or should that be the other way around, however about the important protocols such as the correct way to perform a Bunnygirl Bob when serving the Director's coffee, there is not a word, and certainly nothing about smooching couples. They seemed to be enjoying themselves so I left them to it.
Whilst we're on the subject, have you noticed that when we smooch our noses get in the way? Gorillas, with their flat faces, are much better adapted in this respect. Does this mean they're further up the evolutionary scale? More research is obviously needed. We therefore need 'guineapigs'. Applications to the Editor. Please note that the code to the general office door has been changed as we don't want the office wrecked in the stampede.
All the excitement in the lighthouse exhibition is not good for me. I came across an amorous couple having a smooch in a dark corner. I don't know whether any of my colleagues have had a similar experience - no I don't mean smooching in a dark corner - I mean... ah, never mind. I looked up the protocol in 'Guidelines for Volunteers'. There was plenty of trivia such as visitors falling off the pontoon or kids looking for lost parents, or should that be the other way around, however about the important protocols such as the correct way to perform a Bunnygirl Bob when serving the Director's coffee, there is not a word, and certainly nothing about smooching couples. They seemed to be enjoying themselves so I left them to it.
Whilst we're on the subject, have you noticed that when we smooch our noses get in the way? Gorillas, with their flat faces, are much better adapted in this respect. Does this mean they're further up the evolutionary scale? More research is obviously needed. We therefore need 'guineapigs'. Applications to the Editor. Please note that the code to the general office door has been changed as we don't want the office wrecked in the stampede.
Why I like insurers
I have just renewed my dinghy insurance. This is never a pleasant activity but I was struck by an exclusion paragraph which showed what spoil sports insurers are (and how they take themselves too seriously).
In no case shall this Insurance cover loss damage liability or expense caused by war, civil war, revolution, rebellion, insurrection or civil strife arising therefrom, or any hostile act by or against a belligerent power capture, seizure, arrest, restraint or detainment (battery and piracy excepted), and the consequences thereof or any attempt thereat, derelict mines, torpedoes, bombs or other derelict weapons of war.
Presumably this means the end to my habit of donning my jolly roger outfit, tucking a cutlass into my buoyancy aid and heading out into the Roads with a large bottle of rum. The Devon Liberation Army has been quiet for a number of years now and I am not thinking of sailing the dinghy near Somalia, for heaven's sake. If my dinghy is damaged by a torpedo or 'derelict mine' (does this include Carnon mine?), then I suspect that the last thing I''d be worrying about would be the cost of a new mainsheet block. But they may know better.
Get a life insurers!
Jonathan
In no case shall this Insurance cover loss damage liability or expense caused by war, civil war, revolution, rebellion, insurrection or civil strife arising therefrom, or any hostile act by or against a belligerent power capture, seizure, arrest, restraint or detainment (battery and piracy excepted), and the consequences thereof or any attempt thereat, derelict mines, torpedoes, bombs or other derelict weapons of war.
Presumably this means the end to my habit of donning my jolly roger outfit, tucking a cutlass into my buoyancy aid and heading out into the Roads with a large bottle of rum. The Devon Liberation Army has been quiet for a number of years now and I am not thinking of sailing the dinghy near Somalia, for heaven's sake. If my dinghy is damaged by a torpedo or 'derelict mine' (does this include Carnon mine?), then I suspect that the last thing I''d be worrying about would be the cost of a new mainsheet block. But they may know better.
Get a life insurers!
Jonathan
Monday, 2 August 2010
Those magnificent men...
It was Culdrose Air Day last Wednesday (28 July) and Michael, Naomi and I spent a very busy day chatting to potential visitors and those who have been before who we hope will return. We displayed masks, crowns, turtles, Reepicheep, treasure boxes and other fun make-and-take activities that families can make this Summer along with photographs of children creating their artwork. This, and Michael’s bowl of enticing sweeties in shiny foil kept a steady flow of interested families approaching our pitch. Children could also take part in a ‘design your own boat’ postcard competition and their entries are on display here in the museum, on the Quarterdeck, over the summer holidays. Debbie Rogers
In at the deep end
Shilpa, museum Gallery volunteer, has offered to help the Education Team this summer in addition to working Gallery shifts and we are thrilled to have her on board!She was thrown in at the deep end this Sunday with an incredibly busy Scrapheap Challenge afternoon. The families completely emptied our cage of spare scrap and it was largely the Dads and Granddads helping the children. One gentlemen said that the activity was ‘Superb. I think I might be having even more fun than my son!’
Debbie Rogers
Friday, 30 July 2010
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Monday, 26 July 2010
Feeling Crabby
by the resident NMMC poet
The crabbing season starts quite soon,
but this year I’m away,
I’m heading south for sunshine
on a cruising holiday.
I’m grateful to Fred Olsen
for scheduling his ships,
so the only fish that I shall see
is on a plate, with chips.
Some Volunteers quite like it,
although I can’t see why,
I’d rather be at home in bed
or sit and watch paint dry.
The crabs can’t really like it,
but I guess they’re not too bright,
One fateful mouthful’s all it takes,
no wonder they take fright!!
The crabbing season starts quite soon,
but this year I’m away,
I’m heading south for sunshine
on a cruising holiday.
I’m grateful to Fred Olsen
for scheduling his ships,
so the only fish that I shall see
is on a plate, with chips.
Some Volunteers quite like it,
although I can’t see why,
I’d rather be at home in bed
or sit and watch paint dry.
The crabs can’t really like it,
but I guess they’re not too bright,
One fateful mouthful’s all it takes,
no wonder they take fright!!
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
The new A.I.S.
by Mike Pennell
We have been led to believe that the new electronic display in Lookout is for the benefit of Volunteers and Visitors alike – and that AIS stands for Automatic Identification of Ships. How naive do they think we are!! A 'mole' has informed me it is actually a Management trial for a much more intrusive policy that will shortly be operating during working hours.
Each Volunteer’s radio will be fitted with a responder and the Duty Managers will be able to sit in their comfy office monitoring a screen that depicts the whereabouts of everyone on duty in the Galleries.
A.I.S. actually means Awareness of Individual Slackers and the responder will sound an alarm if anyone leaves their radio in a Gallery while they slope off to the Café or 1912.
A Volunteer clocking-up three alarms in one month will be subject to an A.S.B.O. (Absolute Suspension of Breaks and Outings). It is felt that dire thirst and confinement to the Museum will bring them to their senses, without contravening a Volunteer’s Human Rights.
Dependent upon the success of the trial, Office Staff may be included in the system later this year.
A.I.S. actually means Awareness of Individual Slackers and the responder will sound an alarm if anyone leaves their radio in a Gallery while they slope off to the Café or 1912.
A Volunteer clocking-up three alarms in one month will be subject to an A.S.B.O. (Absolute Suspension of Breaks and Outings). It is felt that dire thirst and confinement to the Museum will bring them to their senses, without contravening a Volunteer’s Human Rights.
Dependent upon the success of the trial, Office Staff may be included in the system later this year.
Friday, 9 July 2010
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith Evans
Thanks to Debs & Kay, the 'drop in' sessions were useful & sometimes hilarious. The few visitors who were in at that time of the morning thought they'd taken a wrong turning and finished up in a psychiatric rehab clinic. I'm sure I was the only sane one present. My psychiatrist will confirm that. I think!
The crabbing briefing by Olly and Emily brought us up to date. The Crab Union has welcomed the reduced time for each session but are concerned that the bait is now in little perforated bags so the crab members can't get at it. The excuse given is that it prevents the mullet scavenging the bait and swimming off with it. The Crab Union consider this to be a lame excuse and the real reason is that it is a sinister ploy to reduce the baiting budget. Further meaningful negotations are requested in order to claw back this perk.
Thanks to Debs & Kay, the 'drop in' sessions were useful & sometimes hilarious. The few visitors who were in at that time of the morning thought they'd taken a wrong turning and finished up in a psychiatric rehab clinic. I'm sure I was the only sane one present. My psychiatrist will confirm that. I think!
The crabbing briefing by Olly and Emily brought us up to date. The Crab Union has welcomed the reduced time for each session but are concerned that the bait is now in little perforated bags so the crab members can't get at it. The excuse given is that it prevents the mullet scavenging the bait and swimming off with it. The Crab Union consider this to be a lame excuse and the real reason is that it is a sinister ploy to reduce the baiting budget. Further meaningful negotations are requested in order to claw back this perk.
Family Activity Training for Gallery Volunteers
by Debbie Rogers
A HUGE thankyou to all the gallery volunteers who attended the Family Activity, Crabbing and Gallery Talk training session on Monday 5th July. Stuart, Fay and Debs are thrilled to have additional help from the gallery volunteers on busy days in the summer holidays. On a wet day the Quarterdeck can get extremely busy with families enjoying our 'make and take' activities and knowing that there are additional willing volunteers happy to step in when required is such a comfort!
The volunteers enjoyed a crabbing demonstration from Master Crabber Ollie and were talked through all our wonderful gallery talks by Emily.
The session was finished off with a viewing of the Voyage of the Mystery film which will be availble to watch in the Lecture Theatre on two days during the holidays, 29th July and 19th August. The film will support our Living History performance for our visitors on both days at 11.30am, 2pm, 3.45pm.
The volunteers enjoyed a crabbing demonstration from Master Crabber Ollie and were talked through all our wonderful gallery talks by Emily.
The session was finished off with a viewing of the Voyage of the Mystery film which will be availble to watch in the Lecture Theatre on two days during the holidays, 29th July and 19th August. The film will support our Living History performance for our visitors on both days at 11.30am, 2pm, 3.45pm.
Thursday, 8 July 2010
Voyage of the Mystery film
Pupils at St. Mary’s C of E Primary School, Penzance were the first to see our new educational resource: ‘Voyage of the Mystery’ film.The children very much enjoyed the film and gave me some excellent feedback:
• Good accents
• Clear voices
• Made you think about what Newlyn used to be like
• Helped you to picture what they might have looked like
One boy said he would like to have seen more… the voyage and arriving in Australia! This led to a discussion about funding and how the project was set run using professional crew and actors, media students and amateur actors.
Daniel’s first performance as Job Kelynack was also very well received. He played to 127 children.More excellent feedback:
• Fantastic acting – the children were all engaged and interested. Good involvement of the children.
• Children all engaged with the story and excited about undertaking further work.
From Debs Rogers
Wet Dog Buoy
by Denise and Robert Davey and Blue, on board Barolo
We are all familiar with geographical features along our coastline being dubbed 'Bastard Rock' and 'The Manacles', by reason of their fearsome nature. We now have our own name for starboard buoy 9 N off Cap Ferret on entry to the Bassin d’Arcachon.
In 2008 we had intended to go into Arcachon on our way down the French coast but were foiled. The entrance is notoriously changing amongst sand banks and dunes but the one feature that is a constant is the bar across the channel. That year we were approaching the entrance in strong winds with a 3m swell racing straight in, and, deciding it was suicidal, carried on another 70 miles to L’Anglet (much to the disgust of the dog).
This year we thought we’d have another go. Despite its wicked reputation, the Bassin can be delightful, full of interesting anchorages and is the only stop-off point in a 150-mile passage. We got up early from Royan thinking that at half tide we would probably have enough water and headed down as fast as possible.
We arrived in good time and thought we’d call up the 'semaphore' or signal station to make sure it was safe to enter before going any further. The office is in Cap Ferret, about 5 miles from the safe water buoy, with a good view of shipping and conditions on the bar. Sadly, we were told in no uncertain terms not to enter before High Water, or “perhaps and hour beforehand”. So, we ground to a halt, with only 5 miles to cover in 3 hours. We sailed under bare poles, hove to for a while, twiddled our thumbs and generally seethed with impatience. The forecast was not good and we were anxious to be tucked up inside asap. There was only about 1m swell, as yet, but we could feel it building in the rising wind.
It was then that we spotted the fishing boat heading into the channel. We still had another hour to wait if we were going to 'do it right', but 'If he can do it, so can we' ruled the day. With a joint sharp intake of breath, we stopped diddling around, got the boat under way and plunged after the fishing boat. Eyes glued to the echo sounder we got more and more twitchy as the depth dropped from 20m to 6m, still racing in with a following sea. To right and left the sand was boiling with the waves breaking over the banks. The channel was clear and the fishing boat was still rolling in ahead of us. We cleared all the buoys in the entrance channel and followed its course past a dogleg of a dune rising out of the water, topped by a small building which turned out to be a museum!
We’d got in. We followed the channel inside the sandbanks and were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. That was a doddle, we said and I took off my waterproof trousers. Big mistake. By now we had worked our way back in a huge horseshoe to almost the landward side of the semaphore office. Here there was a tiny passage through to the sea that was only for the bold, initiated and loony. The seas were funnelling through it, building in the shallows and getting rather nasty. Just as we were coming up to buoy 9N, one particular wave had our number on it. It rose up almost as high as our crosstrees and whacked us head on. The cockpit filled with water as a ton of ocean fell in our laps. The boat staggered and rode through the mass of water, leaving us to lick our wounds. The dog (who, incidentally, steps around puddles out of choice) looked up dripping and reproachful as if I had deliberately subjected him to a power shower. I could almost hear the man in the semaphore office saying "I told you so”. I was soaked to the skin and by the time we reached the marina, shivering, but the skipper had got off scot-free. I tell a lie. He had wet shoes.
P.S. The next day, we discovered that the force of the wave had broken several strands from one of our shrouds and we had to have it replaced before continuing to Spain.
We are all familiar with geographical features along our coastline being dubbed 'Bastard Rock' and 'The Manacles', by reason of their fearsome nature. We now have our own name for starboard buoy 9 N off Cap Ferret on entry to the Bassin d’Arcachon.
In 2008 we had intended to go into Arcachon on our way down the French coast but were foiled. The entrance is notoriously changing amongst sand banks and dunes but the one feature that is a constant is the bar across the channel. That year we were approaching the entrance in strong winds with a 3m swell racing straight in, and, deciding it was suicidal, carried on another 70 miles to L’Anglet (much to the disgust of the dog).
This year we thought we’d have another go. Despite its wicked reputation, the Bassin can be delightful, full of interesting anchorages and is the only stop-off point in a 150-mile passage. We got up early from Royan thinking that at half tide we would probably have enough water and headed down as fast as possible.
We arrived in good time and thought we’d call up the 'semaphore' or signal station to make sure it was safe to enter before going any further. The office is in Cap Ferret, about 5 miles from the safe water buoy, with a good view of shipping and conditions on the bar. Sadly, we were told in no uncertain terms not to enter before High Water, or “perhaps and hour beforehand”. So, we ground to a halt, with only 5 miles to cover in 3 hours. We sailed under bare poles, hove to for a while, twiddled our thumbs and generally seethed with impatience. The forecast was not good and we were anxious to be tucked up inside asap. There was only about 1m swell, as yet, but we could feel it building in the rising wind.
It was then that we spotted the fishing boat heading into the channel. We still had another hour to wait if we were going to 'do it right', but 'If he can do it, so can we' ruled the day. With a joint sharp intake of breath, we stopped diddling around, got the boat under way and plunged after the fishing boat. Eyes glued to the echo sounder we got more and more twitchy as the depth dropped from 20m to 6m, still racing in with a following sea. To right and left the sand was boiling with the waves breaking over the banks. The channel was clear and the fishing boat was still rolling in ahead of us. We cleared all the buoys in the entrance channel and followed its course past a dogleg of a dune rising out of the water, topped by a small building which turned out to be a museum!
We’d got in. We followed the channel inside the sandbanks and were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. That was a doddle, we said and I took off my waterproof trousers. Big mistake. By now we had worked our way back in a huge horseshoe to almost the landward side of the semaphore office. Here there was a tiny passage through to the sea that was only for the bold, initiated and loony. The seas were funnelling through it, building in the shallows and getting rather nasty. Just as we were coming up to buoy 9N, one particular wave had our number on it. It rose up almost as high as our crosstrees and whacked us head on. The cockpit filled with water as a ton of ocean fell in our laps. The boat staggered and rode through the mass of water, leaving us to lick our wounds. The dog (who, incidentally, steps around puddles out of choice) looked up dripping and reproachful as if I had deliberately subjected him to a power shower. I could almost hear the man in the semaphore office saying "I told you so”. I was soaked to the skin and by the time we reached the marina, shivering, but the skipper had got off scot-free. I tell a lie. He had wet shoes.
P.S. The next day, we discovered that the force of the wave had broken several strands from one of our shrouds and we had to have it replaced before continuing to Spain.
Monday, 5 July 2010
Farewell to a Sailing Legend
With Sarah on holiday, Curatorial Assistant Dani Pereira overcame her disappointment at Brazil's departure from the World Cup to don the white gloves.
The perceptive observer might find the case faintly familiar. It is a re-design of one of the old 'coffins' from Start Line. We have mounted the case and lights from the old units into a new carcass which is much lighter in weight and more practical. Another similar case is awaiting commission. We will be replacing all the coffins with these simpler structures in due course.
The new cases have been designed to be more child-friendly. Testing the old cases with children of various ages, showed that they were not easily visible to any child under early teenage. The new cases can be viewed easily by a typical eight year old. Us giants might need to bend down but at least the children will not need to stand on tiptoes.
Monday, 28 June 2010
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith EvansNothing very exciting seems to happen in the lighthouse exhibition. Probably nothing very exciting happend on rock lighthouses except to hold the front door shut in the occasional storm and possibly a knock on the door from a bored mermaid. Well can't blame the mermen. All that long hair, rough scales and flapping tail. Enough to drive them to drink, which begs the question: What do mermen drink? Dry Martini or Scotch on the rocks? But I digress.
The tranquility was disturbed recently by a toddler who sat down on his nappy and screamed the place down. He got himself into a right old paddy. Pity they're phasing out foghorns, he would have a great future with Trinity House. His mother eventually picked him up but he continued to bawl down her ear. She must now be suffering from a degree of severe deafness. I'm sure there's room for further research in this field Father, of course, was nowhere to be seen; sensible chap.
A teenager watching the television screams complained that the commentary didn't synchronise with the picture. I pointed out that he was watching the wrong screen. Another couple were trying to sort out the Fresnel lens display, one of the most interesting exhibits on the gallery. They piled all the lenses on the top of each other. I tried to explain but they looked even more bewildered. Probably my explanation. They went back to the revolving cubes trying to align the pictures. They were last seen arguing as to why they wouldn't all line up.
Before we have irate mermaids hammering on the tidal windows may I apologise for any fishy comments I made. I'm sure they have a whale of a time.
The tranquility was disturbed recently by a toddler who sat down on his nappy and screamed the place down. He got himself into a right old paddy. Pity they're phasing out foghorns, he would have a great future with Trinity House. His mother eventually picked him up but he continued to bawl down her ear. She must now be suffering from a degree of severe deafness. I'm sure there's room for further research in this field Father, of course, was nowhere to be seen; sensible chap.
A teenager watching the television screams complained that the commentary didn't synchronise with the picture. I pointed out that he was watching the wrong screen. Another couple were trying to sort out the Fresnel lens display, one of the most interesting exhibits on the gallery. They piled all the lenses on the top of each other. I tried to explain but they looked even more bewildered. Probably my explanation. They went back to the revolving cubes trying to align the pictures. They were last seen arguing as to why they wouldn't all line up.
Before we have irate mermaids hammering on the tidal windows may I apologise for any fishy comments I made. I'm sure they have a whale of a time.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Staff Opportunities
by the NMMC resident poet
Would YOU like to be the Director?
the Master of all you survey,
controlling our business with firmness,
all the things that occur every day.
An Executive Office to sit in,
a computer & telephones too,
plus someone to answer & work them,
for that task is well beneath you.
A snap of the fingers for coffee,
(and probably biscuits beside).
A cup AND a saucer (best china)
before you can venture outside.
A stroll though the Galleries taken,
just to let the team know you are here,
then it’s off down the Square to a Meeting,
where, when or what is not clear.
On a warm sunny day in the summer,
you can take out a boat for a sail;
relax in the breeze round the Harbour
(after all, “Aileen” did need a bail!)
Do you fancy the pomp & the splendour?
always being called “Sir” (to your face!!)
and anyone taking advantage
would have to be put in their place!
A Uniform would look much better,
Brass buttons with a scrambled-egg hat;
just imagine the tourists’ reactions
when they took home a picture of that!!
The position has not been vacated,
but don’t be put off by such things;
I’m sure the Trustees will be grateful
to know there’s a “spare” in the wings!!
*****
The Director replies:
The poet whose verses we cherish
To Tidal Zone off he must go.
Let's hope in the dark he don't perish
From his punishment posting below.
I'd be happy to give up the splendour,
The coffee & biscuits beside.
I'd like to be out in the harbour
I'd much rather not be inside.
The uniform really don't suit me,
The meetings are never much fun.
I'd much rather be out on the sea
In a fresh morning breeze with some sun.
On the pontoon my little boat's waiting,
She simply needs mast and some sails;
So off with her anchor a-weighing
I'm off to find favourable gales.
P.S. Your P45 is in the post!
Would YOU like to be the Director?
the Master of all you survey,
controlling our business with firmness,
all the things that occur every day.
An Executive Office to sit in,
a computer & telephones too,
plus someone to answer & work them,
for that task is well beneath you.
A snap of the fingers for coffee,
(and probably biscuits beside).
A cup AND a saucer (best china)
before you can venture outside.
A stroll though the Galleries taken,
just to let the team know you are here,
then it’s off down the Square to a Meeting,
where, when or what is not clear.
On a warm sunny day in the summer,
you can take out a boat for a sail;
relax in the breeze round the Harbour
(after all, “Aileen” did need a bail!)
Do you fancy the pomp & the splendour?
always being called “Sir” (to your face!!)
and anyone taking advantage
would have to be put in their place!
A Uniform would look much better,
Brass buttons with a scrambled-egg hat;
just imagine the tourists’ reactions
when they took home a picture of that!!
The position has not been vacated,
but don’t be put off by such things;
I’m sure the Trustees will be grateful
to know there’s a “spare” in the wings!!
*****
The Director replies:
The poet whose verses we cherish
To Tidal Zone off he must go.
Let's hope in the dark he don't perish
From his punishment posting below.
I'd be happy to give up the splendour,
The coffee & biscuits beside.
I'd like to be out in the harbour
I'd much rather not be inside.
The uniform really don't suit me,
The meetings are never much fun.
I'd much rather be out on the sea
In a fresh morning breeze with some sun.
On the pontoon my little boat's waiting,
She simply needs mast and some sails;
So off with her anchor a-weighing
I'm off to find favourable gales.
P.S. Your P45 is in the post!
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith Evans
These Americans will be the death of me. The other an ancient pair asked me ' Where's the John?' John, I thought, we've got a Jon-athan, THE Jonathan up on the first floor. 'Is there a Powder Room too?' he asked. Powder Room, I thought, he wants to blow the place up. 'Arrr, you want the toilet' I said. That was a near-miss. Jonathan would have run me out of town. He can probably run faster than me too.
Whilst we're on the subject of Americans, another ancient vintage came out of the lift into Lookout. He viewed a couple of racing machines tied up to the pontoon. 'You can't call them yachts, they look like something out of Star Wars.' One was flying a white pennant with a red disc. 'Is that a Japanese boat?' He growled. 'No,' I said 'that's an international numerical signal, probably being used as a racing pennant.' 'Huh!' he growled, looking at me in disbelief as he ambled off. I thought I was the grumpy one around here.
Another ghost from the St Nazaire raid in 1942 appeared recently. I just finished my talk in the Lookout when an old lady came over and said she was in the WRNS, serving as a cipher clerk decoding messages. They knew something was going on but it was only later did they find out what it was.
These Americans will be the death of me. The other an ancient pair asked me ' Where's the John?' John, I thought, we've got a Jon-athan, THE Jonathan up on the first floor. 'Is there a Powder Room too?' he asked. Powder Room, I thought, he wants to blow the place up. 'Arrr, you want the toilet' I said. That was a near-miss. Jonathan would have run me out of town. He can probably run faster than me too.
Whilst we're on the subject of Americans, another ancient vintage came out of the lift into Lookout. He viewed a couple of racing machines tied up to the pontoon. 'You can't call them yachts, they look like something out of Star Wars.' One was flying a white pennant with a red disc. 'Is that a Japanese boat?' He growled. 'No,' I said 'that's an international numerical signal, probably being used as a racing pennant.' 'Huh!' he growled, looking at me in disbelief as he ambled off. I thought I was the grumpy one around here.
Another ghost from the St Nazaire raid in 1942 appeared recently. I just finished my talk in the Lookout when an old lady came over and said she was in the WRNS, serving as a cipher clerk decoding messages. They knew something was going on but it was only later did they find out what it was.
Friday, 18 June 2010
Forte IV
The granite comes from Ludgvan quarry.
HMS Forte IV was commissioned on 8 July 1941. The base initially supported the assembly of Coastal Forces Motor Torpedo Boats, Motor Gunboats and Motor Launches for Operation Chariot, the raid on St Nazaire on 28/29 March 1942. Therafter, it was home to several flotillas of Motor Gunboats and, particularly, Moto Launches which were heavily involved in clandestine operations: the ferrying of SOE agents to and from enemy-occupied France. It was decommissioned on 6 November 1944.
The location of the plaque is significant as it is in the vicinity of the former submarine pier, used by the Gunboats. Opinions differ as to the line of the original submarine pier as the landscape was so changed by the works during the war and in the 1990s.
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
by Debbie Rogers
We’ve managed to maintain the running of holiday activities over the weekends despite Derryth being on maternity leave, although it has been a stretch. There was a different make & take activity every day of the holidays and once again, porthole pictures proved to be very popular. Amelia Fawcett, one of our young visitors, felt compelled to show her appreciation of the Museum by way of a drawing she left for us.
Museum Minnows is proving a popular workshop for pre-school and nursery settings. This session is run by me & assisted by Early Years Practitioners from Truro College & members of the Education volunteers. We’ve had a total of 118 early years children & their parents, the majority of which have never visited the Museum before but hopefully, having been sent home with a copy of our What’s On leaflet and a shameless plug from Debs, they will return!
The Living History outreach bookings have suddenly started to pick up after a large mail out of new flyers. Funding from the Equitable Charitable Trust has covered the cost of the fuel & actors for three years. This funding has enabled us to reduce the charge of the ‘Hevva, Hevva’ and ‘Voyage of the Mystery’ workshops to schools who are too far away to access the Museum’s resources. We have seven outreach visits in June including schools in: Launceston, Bodmin, Penzance, Delabole and Liskeard, a total of 650 miles and 636 children.
We’ve managed to maintain the running of holiday activities over the weekends despite Derryth being on maternity leave, although it has been a stretch. There was a different make & take activity every day of the holidays and once again, porthole pictures proved to be very popular. Amelia Fawcett, one of our young visitors, felt compelled to show her appreciation of the Museum by way of a drawing she left for us.Museum Minnows is proving a popular workshop for pre-school and nursery settings. This session is run by me & assisted by Early Years Practitioners from Truro College & members of the Education volunteers. We’ve had a total of 118 early years children & their parents, the majority of which have never visited the Museum before but hopefully, having been sent home with a copy of our What’s On leaflet and a shameless plug from Debs, they will return!
The Living History outreach bookings have suddenly started to pick up after a large mail out of new flyers. Funding from the Equitable Charitable Trust has covered the cost of the fuel & actors for three years. This funding has enabled us to reduce the charge of the ‘Hevva, Hevva’ and ‘Voyage of the Mystery’ workshops to schools who are too far away to access the Museum’s resources. We have seven outreach visits in June including schools in: Launceston, Bodmin, Penzance, Delabole and Liskeard, a total of 650 miles and 636 children.
National Kids Day Out
by Debbie Rogers
On Wednesday last week, I worked in partnership with the Lighthouse Children’s Centre, Falmouth for the annual Rotary funded ‘National Kids Day Out’. The Lighthouse Centre invited parents and children from the reception class of Falmouth School.
A fun day was had by all!
A fun day was had by all!
Bonjour Tous!
by Denise and Robert Davey & Blue, on board Barolo
After a week spent sorting out the boat at a leisurely pace, we began our summer cruise at the beginning of June. We headed off southwards from our home port of Arzal on the River Vilaine, Brittany. The weather glorious, few fellow countrymen around yet, we generally enjoy France at this time of year. Our planned destination is the Spanish border. We love the Basque region, on either side of the frontier, so hope to spend a couple of weeks there, before heading back to Brittany at the end of August.
We headed down the coast, stopping off at one or two ports that we hadn’t visited before, and reached the Ile d’Yeu for the laundrette. We were berthed next to a chaotic, smiley Breton who took a shine to our spaniel, Blue. Just as we were leaving the berth, he asked where we were heading for next. “Sables d’Olonne”, we shouted, and got a bellowed “Non! C’est fermé” and a lot of gesturing in reply. Les Sables d’Olonne is the home of the Vendée Globe race and a major yachting centre, so it was rather like saying that Truro was closed. We couldn’t quite believe it, but decided to give it a miss. As we passed by, sure enough, instead of the usual fleet of yachts off the port, Les Sables d’Olonne was deserted. Strange.
We arrived at Les Minimes, the enormous modern marina just outside La Rochelle at about seven o’clock in the evening. The main attraction of this place, apart from the supermarket, is that there is always room for visitors, particularly at this time of year. So, we were more than a little surprised to find the reception pontoon full to bursting and the only place available in the most exposed position. As we tied up, the cleats on the pontoon, usually so robust and well maintained, were pulling out of their brackets and looked very insecure. The place was going to pot. Perhaps economic dire straits in France had meant that the marinas were not being funded as much as usual? It wasn’t until the next morning, walking along the pontoons that we realised how ignorant we were. Damage was evident everywhere. Wrecked pontoons were busily being towed away by harbour workers in ribs and dumped on a slip, to be broken up and cannibalised by people with trucks on the shore. Lorries laden with brand new pontoons waited while boats were moved ready for launching and re-siting.
When we visited the reception again, we found displayed photographs of the cause of the destruction. On 28th February this year, Tempête Xynthia had rattled through the Vendée region, devastating ports along the coastline. Flooding over the low-lying inland area had followed the huge tidal surge that had done so much damage to the ports. Pontoons had lifted off the pilings securing them to the seabed and crashed down, missing their holes, leaving yachts, motor-boats, fishing boats dangling at crazy angles when the tide receded. And we were worried about a few dodgy cleats! Les Sables d’Olonne was obviously damaged in the same way, as were several other ports along the coast. Renewal work hadn’t been started earlier due to insurance disputes, but was now under way, hopefully in time for the coming season.
We had experienced the same storm in Cornwall, but its full force must have dissipated by the time it reached us. It was humbling to see the extent of the destruction caused by the sea in the space of a few hours and renewed our respect for the elements. Onwards.
After a week spent sorting out the boat at a leisurely pace, we began our summer cruise at the beginning of June. We headed off southwards from our home port of Arzal on the River Vilaine, Brittany. The weather glorious, few fellow countrymen around yet, we generally enjoy France at this time of year. Our planned destination is the Spanish border. We love the Basque region, on either side of the frontier, so hope to spend a couple of weeks there, before heading back to Brittany at the end of August.
We headed down the coast, stopping off at one or two ports that we hadn’t visited before, and reached the Ile d’Yeu for the laundrette. We were berthed next to a chaotic, smiley Breton who took a shine to our spaniel, Blue. Just as we were leaving the berth, he asked where we were heading for next. “Sables d’Olonne”, we shouted, and got a bellowed “Non! C’est fermé” and a lot of gesturing in reply. Les Sables d’Olonne is the home of the Vendée Globe race and a major yachting centre, so it was rather like saying that Truro was closed. We couldn’t quite believe it, but decided to give it a miss. As we passed by, sure enough, instead of the usual fleet of yachts off the port, Les Sables d’Olonne was deserted. Strange.
We arrived at Les Minimes, the enormous modern marina just outside La Rochelle at about seven o’clock in the evening. The main attraction of this place, apart from the supermarket, is that there is always room for visitors, particularly at this time of year. So, we were more than a little surprised to find the reception pontoon full to bursting and the only place available in the most exposed position. As we tied up, the cleats on the pontoon, usually so robust and well maintained, were pulling out of their brackets and looked very insecure. The place was going to pot. Perhaps economic dire straits in France had meant that the marinas were not being funded as much as usual? It wasn’t until the next morning, walking along the pontoons that we realised how ignorant we were. Damage was evident everywhere. Wrecked pontoons were busily being towed away by harbour workers in ribs and dumped on a slip, to be broken up and cannibalised by people with trucks on the shore. Lorries laden with brand new pontoons waited while boats were moved ready for launching and re-siting.
When we visited the reception again, we found displayed photographs of the cause of the destruction. On 28th February this year, Tempête Xynthia had rattled through the Vendée region, devastating ports along the coastline. Flooding over the low-lying inland area had followed the huge tidal surge that had done so much damage to the ports. Pontoons had lifted off the pilings securing them to the seabed and crashed down, missing their holes, leaving yachts, motor-boats, fishing boats dangling at crazy angles when the tide receded. And we were worried about a few dodgy cleats! Les Sables d’Olonne was obviously damaged in the same way, as were several other ports along the coast. Renewal work hadn’t been started earlier due to insurance disputes, but was now under way, hopefully in time for the coming season.
We had experienced the same storm in Cornwall, but its full force must have dissipated by the time it reached us. It was humbling to see the extent of the destruction caused by the sea in the space of a few hours and renewed our respect for the elements. Onwards.
Friday, 11 June 2010
The Association of Dunkirk Little Ships
During the recent Press reports of the Dunkirk 70th. anniversary, good coverage was given to the fifty Little Ships that made the passage from Ramsgate this year.
Bearing in mind the age of some of our Museum exhibits, it is remarkable that so many of those small boats have not only survived, but are sufficiently seaworthy to make the voyage, albeit that many will not undertake a sea passage in over Force four winds/sea state.
Of the 178 small craft recorded in the published “bible” of the original event, some date back to 1895 (the sailing barges) although most were built in the 1920s or 30s. The list does not include the larger merchant ships (in the 60’s, I served as 2/O in m/v “Royal Daffodil”, a Cross Channel day trip vessel of 2000 tons that had brought back over 9,500 men) and the total number of vessels is estimated at 700.
My own interest is the great privilege I had in 1975 when I commanded a lifeboat as safety escort for the event, together with the RAF launch “Spitfire”. We represented the 19 RNLI lifeboats that were involved in 1940. (interestingly, only 23 Little Ships made it in 1975), and as a safety vessel, had to tow Raymond Baxter’s “L’Orage” into Calais after heavy seas caused engine failure.
It was one of the most moving weekends of my RNLI service, and on the Sunday morning the fleet left Dunkirk Harbour, steaming off the beaches in a circle, as the Battle of Britain flight of Lancaster, Spitfire & a Hurricane made a low pass & dropped a wreath. The most amazing sight was of some of the Veterans on the beach actually wading, fully clothed, out into the water Thirty-five years on, none are now young enough to do this.
Our homeward passage was made with a load of passengers as the weather had deteriorated and Owners had to be back for work, leaving their boats in Dunkirk.
Mike Pennell, Galleries
Bearing in mind the age of some of our Museum exhibits, it is remarkable that so many of those small boats have not only survived, but are sufficiently seaworthy to make the voyage, albeit that many will not undertake a sea passage in over Force four winds/sea state.
Of the 178 small craft recorded in the published “bible” of the original event, some date back to 1895 (the sailing barges) although most were built in the 1920s or 30s. The list does not include the larger merchant ships (in the 60’s, I served as 2/O in m/v “Royal Daffodil”, a Cross Channel day trip vessel of 2000 tons that had brought back over 9,500 men) and the total number of vessels is estimated at 700.
My own interest is the great privilege I had in 1975 when I commanded a lifeboat as safety escort for the event, together with the RAF launch “Spitfire”. We represented the 19 RNLI lifeboats that were involved in 1940. (interestingly, only 23 Little Ships made it in 1975), and as a safety vessel, had to tow Raymond Baxter’s “L’Orage” into Calais after heavy seas caused engine failure.
It was one of the most moving weekends of my RNLI service, and on the Sunday morning the fleet left Dunkirk Harbour, steaming off the beaches in a circle, as the Battle of Britain flight of Lancaster, Spitfire & a Hurricane made a low pass & dropped a wreath. The most amazing sight was of some of the Veterans on the beach actually wading, fully clothed, out into the water Thirty-five years on, none are now young enough to do this.
Our homeward passage was made with a load of passengers as the weather had deteriorated and Owners had to be back for work, leaving their boats in Dunkirk.
Mike Pennell, Galleries
Monday, 7 June 2010
Small boat adventure
Her/his latest trip was to Central Europe where the heavens opened and the river Hornad was turned into a raging torrent causing devestation: flooding houses and tearing up railways lines. These were not the best conditions for a small boat, especially as the river flows eastwards and the next stop would have been the Black Sea. Reluctantly, she/he made her way back across Europe by overnight train, trying to resist the temptation to indulge in the limited food available.
The good news is that she is now safely back in Falmouth, unharmed and looking forward to the next adventure.
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Ron Openshaw
Photo: (from left) Ron Openshaw, Keith Haddon, Judy Jackson
We were all very sorry to hear of the death of Ron Openshaw. He had been ill on and off for a number of years and looked as though he was getting better but, leaving the Library after his usual shift recently, he had a heart attack and crashed his car. Sensibly, he managed to choose the wall of a care home where two nurses took him in hand while the ambulance arrived. Ten days later, he had a second attack and died in Treliske.
Quiet, gentle and kind are the words that everyone uses about Ron. Private, might be another. Not many people knew that he was actually an accomplished folk singer/songwriter and was working with Sue Fallon on the fifth CD of his songs. Many of these grew out of Cornwall and the history of the working people; many had a sly wit like his song of the laminated beam engine which was never quite straight.
A life-long bachelor, Ron was brought to Goonhilly by BT in the 60s and sensibly never left. He helped found, and was on the steering group of, the Kerrier and Falmouth Credit Union and sat on the Lizard RNLI committee. In the Library, he did much of the early work on Fox's Arrivals which has been taken on by Bill Powell, and on other databases.
We will miss him.
Jonathan Griffin
Friday, 21 May 2010
Museum Minnows
(clockwise from top left)
Alfie Newlands (Katie N's),
Eliza Wittamore (Jenny W's) and
Nancy Nenning (Derryth Ridge's)
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
Frank Dye
Frank, an engineer by training from a garage-owning family, was a cautious seaman, planning each trip carefully and customising his boats to suit the conditions he was expecting to meet. He tackled trips that would terrify any 'normal' sailor: like sailing to Iceland or Norway of from Florida to Canada. I doubt that he enjoyed capsizing in the middle of the North Sea but that did not put him off planning similar voyages when he was plenty old enough to know better. His books have inspired thousands of sailors.
Wanderer was initially retired to Greenwich but, in Margaret's words, found a new lease of life when she came to Falmouth, featuring in a number of exhibitions including Mad Dogs, and Englishmen? whose title was partially inspired by Frank's exploits. She received regular greetings cards and flowers from Margaret.
Frank and Margaret became volunteers and, in the early days taught us all how to talk to our visitors as they shared stories of their travels and the joy of sailing. One never quite knew when they were going to turn up but they would be there one morning, chatting away as though they had never left; stayed for a few weeks and disappeared as suddenly as they had come.
Frank's fame was legendary. In a stiff force 5/6 off Barmouth on a cold winter's day, wrapped up in several extra layers of clothing, he was hailed by another sailor, worried that the conditions were a bit extreme: 'Who do you think you are? Frank Dye or someone'. 'Yes', came Frank's simple and honest reply as he sailed through the surf.
Amongst the moments I cherish was sailing with Frank in the Museum's Wayfarer, Never Say Die. He refused to take the helm, assuming that I was a better helmsman (!) and simply enjoyed being out on the water. He was the perfect crew, politely dropping the mainsail at exactly the right time so that we gently glided into the pontoon under our own way. Nothing would keep Frank and Margaret from the water. When they were last here I asked how things were going and was told that they had been out sailing the previous weekend as usual, creek-crawling in Norfolk. This would have been fine in younger people and if it had not been February.
A postcard arrived from Margaret today: 'Just to tell you that Frank died peacefully in hospital yesterday. I was there and we talked about you all in Cornwall. He was wearied by the long hard East Coats winter and he hated inactivity. We sailed here as usual on Christmas Day ... Coming to Cornwall retained our happiest memories ...'
Let me end with the words of this quiet, modest, humble man:
'Offshore cruising in an open boat can be hard, cold, wet, lonely and occasionally miserable, but it is exhilarating too. To take an open dinghy across a hundred miles of sea, taking weather as it comes; to know that you have only yourself and your mate to rely on in an emergency; to see the beauty of dawn creep across the ever restless and dangerous ocean; to make a safe landfall - is wonderful and all of these things develop a self-reliance that is missing from the modern, mechanical, safety-conscious civilised world.'
Frank Dye, 28 April 1929 - 16 May 2010
Jonathan Griffin
Thursday, 13 May 2010
The end of the Slaughter?
Having nothing else to do, the boatbuilding volunteers got together for a breakfast to say farewell and, being dab hands with wood and sticky-back plastic, could not resist sending him off with a model pallett truck to wile away his third retirement. His reputation with the life-sized version is the stuff of legend. It is said that his chassee through the Hold bearing lighthouse optics made Strictly Come Dancing look like a herd of buffalo; Waterlily almost moved herself when she saw him coming; and no gap was too small for him to attempt the pallet-truck triple lutz.
But that was not all. The team found an obscure certificate he had never been given: a qualification donated after a one-day course in speaking Japanese - damn him, he even remembered some of the phrases - which naturally required some Cornish sushi: a mackerel.
The boatbuilding crew made another gem for John's dining table: a model of the Falmouth bollard, in both its dormant and erect state, complete with flashing lights, for this was another of John's Falmouth triumphs achieved by wearing down the Council Transport Department with relentless logic until they finally capitulated and installed Falmouth's answer to the leaning tower of Pisa. His only failure was to see the benefit of pay-on-exit at the car parks.
It is impossible not to hold John in high regard. His energy and dogged determination accompany a self-deprecating wit. Not for nothing was his house called Raffles, reflecting his years in the Far East where he installed things for Cable and Wireless and, allegedly, brough China into the modern telecommunications world. On one occasion a younger John even carried a new satellite receiver up a volcano on the back of a donkey: but that is another story which may be read in the history of C&W (naturally a copy is in the Library).
For now it is enough simply to say goodbye and thank you. John has helped to change Falmouth for the better and has been a great support and friend to me personally. I shall miss the cheery answerphone message from his vacuum cleaner and lugubrious tones on the phone when he has had, yet another, idea. For now, I have to sort out all the papers he has left me with which 'just turned up' as he was clearing out his garage.
Jonathan Griffin
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
Grumpy Volunteer Corner
by Keith Evans
I feel duty bound to write this blog in the interests of Anglo-American relations and to enable my colleagues to interpret their lingo. I became involved with a group of ancient Americans off a cruise ship recently. One asked "Where's the Bathroom?" He wants a bath, I thought. They must have been at sea a long time. You can have a dip in the pool. But, being quick off the mark, I realised he wanted the toilet.
A few minutes later another, wearing a stetson asked "Hey! Where's the rest room?" He wants a snooze, I thought. I'm sure Jonathan wouldn't mind him having a kip in his office. Ah, I thought, he too wants the toilet.
Later, a third asked "Where's the men's room?" I was ready for him. I pointed him in the right direction. Why don't they speak the same language?
Whilst on matters lavatorial, I remember a large, very large, attendant wielding a smelly lavatory brush in a lavatory in a French village. She demanded a fee and tore off a couple of pieces of flimsy paper from a roll. A thought this was a receipt; in fact it was toilet paper. I didn't argue.
Debs got all excited recently. No, she didn't want the toilet. She came streaking across the Main Hall, I'll re-phrase that, dancing, no, prancing, no, anyway she came across, as only Debs can, all excited. She'd been down to the Tidal Zone. I thought that at least she must have seen a killer whale. It turned out that she'd seen a squid. Really Debs, you know this excitement is not good for me.
I feel duty bound to write this blog in the interests of Anglo-American relations and to enable my colleagues to interpret their lingo. I became involved with a group of ancient Americans off a cruise ship recently. One asked "Where's the Bathroom?" He wants a bath, I thought. They must have been at sea a long time. You can have a dip in the pool. But, being quick off the mark, I realised he wanted the toilet.
A few minutes later another, wearing a stetson asked "Hey! Where's the rest room?" He wants a snooze, I thought. I'm sure Jonathan wouldn't mind him having a kip in his office. Ah, I thought, he too wants the toilet.
Later, a third asked "Where's the men's room?" I was ready for him. I pointed him in the right direction. Why don't they speak the same language?
Whilst on matters lavatorial, I remember a large, very large, attendant wielding a smelly lavatory brush in a lavatory in a French village. She demanded a fee and tore off a couple of pieces of flimsy paper from a roll. A thought this was a receipt; in fact it was toilet paper. I didn't argue.
Debs got all excited recently. No, she didn't want the toilet. She came streaking across the Main Hall, I'll re-phrase that, dancing, no, prancing, no, anyway she came across, as only Debs can, all excited. She'd been down to the Tidal Zone. I thought that at least she must have seen a killer whale. It turned out that she'd seen a squid. Really Debs, you know this excitement is not good for me.
Saturday, 1 May 2010
The 'Gunner’s Daughter'
('Kissing the gunner's daughter' = bent over a gun barrel and flogged) or
The Cat o’ Nine tails
by Mike Pennell
Chatting with visitors is an enjoyable experience, but observing visual expressions can be interesting too - usually friendly, sometimes amusing or surprised, interest & disinterest - but recently I have added 'serious concern'!!!!
I was in Cornwall Gallery talking to a man & his wife about the Cat o’Nine Tails (changed to a bunch of Birch (Hazel) twigs in the 1860s) displayed there, and they were amazed when I recounted my Policeman father’s stories of the Birch being used (for petty larceny offences) in the 1920s & 30s; (it ceased to be legal in the UK for judicial punishment in 1948, but use by former Colonies extended to 2002). Apparently it really did discourage re-offending, as flogging was still given on the bare back.
When used to punish on-board theft, deemed to be a very serious crime, the historical seafaring version of the Cat often had three overhand knots tied in each 'tail' to increase the pain. The Cat was kept in a red baize bag until punishment was imminent, when the Bo’suns Mate would 'Let the Cat out of the Bag'.
Maybe foolishly, I then went on to mention to the visitors that a similar form of corporal punishment existed at my Sea School (HMS Conway) in 1950 and sensed, rather than saw, the male visitor step back slightly. The instrument of torture was 'The Teaser' – an 18” back-spliced piece of ¾” cordage with an eye for the hand - and this was administered 'astern' (covered!) by seniors, for many 'crimes'. It could be given whilst the miscreant stood, or made to kneel and present a smoother target. 'Steeping' the backspliced end in salt water (for stiffness) was not unknown.
The Teaser was worn by Seniors, hanging through their belt as a visible deterrent to all.
Corporal punishment could not be enforced, but it was far easier than the alternative of vast amounts of extra work, unloading coal and other such unpleasant tasks.
Every evening we mustered all hands on the Lower deck to hoist four large boats onto davits and as we tramped along with the falls, talking was a heinous crime worth two strokes.
As a senior in charge of sports, one of my lesser responsibilities was the nightly treatment of Athlete's foot (a common occurrence on wet wooden decks) and failure to attend my 'clinic' of a permanganate of potash foot bath earned the absentee two strokes!!
In the Royal Navy, punishments used to be given in front of the entire crew, and at School, very serious misdemeanors were administered by an Officer, after lights out with a cane, on the Quarter Deck, accompanied by a roll on a side drum. Very moving to hear as one lay in a warm hammock!!
I am not sure with what impression my visitors departed, nor how that sort of discipline would be viewed nowadays by the PC brigade!!
The pictured working replica is inappropriate as a Museum exhibit, but could be loaned to Waterfront during School Holidays.
The Cat o’ Nine tails
by Mike Pennell
Chatting with visitors is an enjoyable experience, but observing visual expressions can be interesting too - usually friendly, sometimes amusing or surprised, interest & disinterest - but recently I have added 'serious concern'!!!!
I was in Cornwall Gallery talking to a man & his wife about the Cat o’Nine Tails (changed to a bunch of Birch (Hazel) twigs in the 1860s) displayed there, and they were amazed when I recounted my Policeman father’s stories of the Birch being used (for petty larceny offences) in the 1920s & 30s; (it ceased to be legal in the UK for judicial punishment in 1948, but use by former Colonies extended to 2002). Apparently it really did discourage re-offending, as flogging was still given on the bare back.
When used to punish on-board theft, deemed to be a very serious crime, the historical seafaring version of the Cat often had three overhand knots tied in each 'tail' to increase the pain. The Cat was kept in a red baize bag until punishment was imminent, when the Bo’suns Mate would 'Let the Cat out of the Bag'.
Maybe foolishly, I then went on to mention to the visitors that a similar form of corporal punishment existed at my Sea School (HMS Conway) in 1950 and sensed, rather than saw, the male visitor step back slightly. The instrument of torture was 'The Teaser' – an 18” back-spliced piece of ¾” cordage with an eye for the hand - and this was administered 'astern' (covered!) by seniors, for many 'crimes'. It could be given whilst the miscreant stood, or made to kneel and present a smoother target. 'Steeping' the backspliced end in salt water (for stiffness) was not unknown.
The Teaser was worn by Seniors, hanging through their belt as a visible deterrent to all.
Corporal punishment could not be enforced, but it was far easier than the alternative of vast amounts of extra work, unloading coal and other such unpleasant tasks.
Every evening we mustered all hands on the Lower deck to hoist four large boats onto davits and as we tramped along with the falls, talking was a heinous crime worth two strokes.
As a senior in charge of sports, one of my lesser responsibilities was the nightly treatment of Athlete's foot (a common occurrence on wet wooden decks) and failure to attend my 'clinic' of a permanganate of potash foot bath earned the absentee two strokes!!
In the Royal Navy, punishments used to be given in front of the entire crew, and at School, very serious misdemeanors were administered by an Officer, after lights out with a cane, on the Quarter Deck, accompanied by a roll on a side drum. Very moving to hear as one lay in a warm hammock!!
I am not sure with what impression my visitors departed, nor how that sort of discipline would be viewed nowadays by the PC brigade!!
The pictured working replica is inappropriate as a Museum exhibit, but could be loaned to Waterfront during School Holidays.
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