KEN GILL: THREE OF HIS BEST POEMS (IMO)

THE DOCKYARDIE’S SONG

 

I’ll sing a song one day, my friend,

That as songs go will be the end.

A song that’s full of hammers banging,

Chain-blocks rattling, steel clanging.

A song that’ll shriek, quiver, shake

With a noise and din to make you quake.

A song of men in nightmare places, 

With filthy, oily, grease-grimed faces;

Men who struggle, sweat and swear,

Whose curses are a form of prayer.

Yes,

I’ll sing a song of “things” and men, 

Of “Daniels” in the lions’ den.

Of a diff’rent world, with “lock-up” gates,

Where the “facts of life” are “hourly rates.”

Oh,

I’ll sing a song one day, my friend,

That as songs go will have no end,

And the song I sing will be sung “off-key.”

That’s the way that song should be,

For it will have no “sweet” refrain.

Its chords will sound – ”frustration,” “pain,”

And it will last a “lifetime” long.

Yes,

I’ll sing for you - the “Dockyardie’s” Song!!

 

GOODBYE AND HELLO  

 

The Missus was going away for a spell

She asked “could I manage?” I answered “Well,

I’ll struggle on bestways I can

Tho’ I’m gonna be a real lonely man.”

But all the time me mind was teeming

I was plotting, planning, scheming

Of all the things I’d do, and try

I could hardly wait to say Goodbye.

I had visions of forbidden delights

Y’know

Loose-living ladies, abandoned nights

Buckets of beer with the boys in the bar

Oh, as a middle-aged rake I’d be a star

But

Nothing turned out as I thought

Being on me own weren’t so hot,

I don’t savvy the quirks of life

‘Cos all I did – was miss the wife!

 

Oh, I tried a night out on the town

But all it did was get me down

I winked at some ladies once or twice

But the ones I winked at weren’t nice

In fact, they scared me half to death

And all of ‘em seemed to have bad breath (Ugh).

So, 

Despite ceaseless shots of self-derision

I stayed in, watched television,

And at night in that bare bedroom

I’d be all self-pity, misery, gloom,

I knew in my heart I would crack

If she didn’t hurry and soon come back.

But then came word she was on her way

Oh, I was up at the crack o’ day

I dusted, polished with no “breaks” or “halts”

I went thro’ the house like a “dose of salts”

I shaved me chin, I combed me hair

Got to the station with an hour to spare,

Couldn’t keep still, was all aglow

Felt like shouting for the world to know

Oh, a real old stupid “so and so”

But you see,

I couldn’t wait to say – Hello!!!

 

DRINKER’S PRAYERill

 

Dear Lord, don’t let me be shifted

‘Til at least 

Six more pints I have lifted.

Let me carry on proving

That at draught beer removing,

I’m really, exceptionally gifted!

 

This imbibing, for me, is a must.

I don’t care if I swell up and bust,

And if I become alcoholic

Or develop the cholic,

Well, there’s no need to kick up a fuss.

 

For there’s one thing 

That makes it alright,

I’m alive and I’m shining - tonight.

 

(But tomorrow!! Oh God, what a sight.)

 

 Ken Gill, “Penryn’s Man Of Verse” who died in 1988, has long since passed into the realms of legend with what he insisted on calling his “scribbling.”  He published books of his poems and made many broadcasts on TV and radio.  Ken was a tank cleaner at Falmouth Docks for 22 years.    

THE POPULARITY OF "POPULAR"

If you didn't know Falmouth's Swanpool Beach is "popular," you certainly will after reading this report: https://www.cornwalllive.com/news/cornwall-news/boat-runs-aground-popular-falmouth-9266650 

 

THE ‘REVOLUTIONARY PORT PLAN’ FOR ST JUST TO RIVAL SOUTHAMPTON AND PLYMOUTH

David Barnicoat was only eight months into his role as Falmouth Packet shipping writer when he was able to reveal one of the biggest and most ambitious, and no doubt controversial, development projects ever to involve the port and its neighbourhood.

 

That’s how he worded it anyway – he “revealed” it. It was all (or almost all) written in the present tense and presented as fact, and it was published in October, 1988, not on April 1.

 

Even the caption for the definitive map read “work should start on this new terminal at the end of March.”

 

David, who took over the Packet port page from me and is still writing it 38 years later – which must be some sort of record, surely – was clearly relishing (aka on this occasion having fun with) his new role.

 

“This plan,” he said, “could one day revolutionise the Fal estuary, transforming the  sleepy village of St Just In Roseland into an internationally recognised passenger liner and cargo handling terminal.”

 

Here’s how David’s report continued:--

 

Called the St Just (Falmouth) Ocean Wharves and Railway Development, the new docks complex, consisting of enclosed docks, deep water berths and graving docks, would stretch from St Mawes to Turnaware.

 

Principal architect of the scheme is the Railways and General Development Board, who envisage St Just being a major threat to the ports of Southampton and Plymouth if the financial backing is forthcoming.

 

Centred on St Just, the multi-million pound St Just Ocean Terminal scheme would involve a huge dredging and reclamation programme, especially to the south where large areas of outstanding underwater beauty and live maerl beds would have to be buried under thousands of tonnes of infill.

 

To the north towards Turnaware the problem is somewhat smaller with the proposed construction of an enclosed dock system, coupled with the erection of warehouses on the foreshore to accommodate cargo.

 

The total reclamation of St Just creek is seen as vital to the new port in order to provide the necessary land required for the massive railway marshalling area and the construction of a graving dock capable of handling the largest liners.

 

St Just (Ocean Terminal) railway station may well be sited near to the beautiful 13^th Century church, keeping passengers away from the main cargo handing areas.

 

Vitally important to the newly-found cargo passenger trade is the proposed railway link that will join the main line between Probus and St Austell, thus providing an expeditious route from the port.

 

Strictly from a marine point of view, the idea is well conceived as it utilises the natural topography of the estuary to provide deep water berths easily accessible at all states of the tide.

 

Although only at the drawing board stage, indications are that the design of the new port will only have a minimal effect on the prevailing tidal conditions found in the harbour. 

 

Like the container port project, there may be a few hiccups over environmentally sensitive issues, but in general terms the concept of creating a deep water port within the sheltered confines of the harbour and with improved rail links is to be congratulated.

 

Since the early 1900s, it has generally been admitted that Falmouth Docks were constructed on the wrong side of the harbour so far as deep-drafted vessels were concerned.

 

Alas, as might be said about some of the other big projects for Falmouth down the ages, this plan ultimately belonged to the realms of fantasy, as David confirmed in his final paragraph:--

 

(For those who haven’t clicked, this plan was first mooted by a Mr Ryan in 1909 and has not been considered as a serious proposition for nigh on 80 years.)    

DICKIE DUNSTAN: SMALL IN STATURE, BUT HUGE IN TALENT AND HEART

This cartoon by Brian Thomas is not a million miles removed from reality, as Penryn’s Dickie Dunstan was for many years famously known as “Britain’s Smallest Blacksmith.” 

Well, you really did mean you had a BIG horse, didn’t you?

 

I featured Dickie, together with the original cartoon, in a Falmouth Packet column circa 2012 and reproduced the piece, together with the cartoon, in my book REFLECTIONS, published in aid of Cancer Research, two years later. Here’s that column:--  

 

“BRITAIN’S SMALLEST BLACKSMITH”

My current reading is "Heart of Stone," by Mylor novelist Jane Jackson, and I was surprised to see a mention of blacksmith Dickie Dunstan, who was anything but a fictitious character in Penryn's 20th Century history.

 

I put this to Jane and she explained that it was her way of “paying tribute to a remarkable man known far beyond Penryn.”   

 

Dickie was "Britain's smallest blacksmith."  He was just 5ft  1in tall, weighed 7st 12lbs, and worked from his base at The Praze for over 50 years.  His fame even earned him a spot on Wilfred Pickles' long-running national radio programme "Have A Go."

 

Jane told me: “Dickie was small in stature, but he had a huge talent and an even bigger heart.  ‘Larger than life’ was not just accurate; it summed him up.”

 

In my Packet feature on him in 1971, I noted how he rarely worked on a horse without a handful of passers-by, mostly children, stopping to watch. 

 

Outside was the ceaseless roar of motor traffic – in stark contrast to the way of things when Dickie began his working life.  Then his only accompaniment was the clip, clop and trundle of horses and carts slowly passing by.

 

In 1964, he felt sure his career had been cut short when a momentary slip with a power cutter, spinning at 1,200 revolutions a minute, landed him in hospital with horrific leg and arm injuries – but 21 months later he was back at his “smithy.”  

 

As for working with horses, the former Penryn Mayor (1973-75) and chamber of commerce chairman never felt threatened.  As he told me: “My job isn’t dangerous - I’m so small I can always walk under the horse!”

 

* I am reproducing extracts from REFLECTIONS – the columns and cartoons – on an occasional basis throughout this year to mark the 10^th anniversary of my retirement and the start of my fund-raising for Cancer Research UK. To date, I have donated around £25,000 to the charity from the sale of my books and, latterly, my paintings. 

HOW THE MIGHTY HAD YET TO RISE

Met up with Mike Buckley, a one-time Falmouth Packet colleague and fellow Falmouth Town supporter of six decades, at a recent Bickland Park match.

 

It was our first chat for a long, long time and, boy, did the memories flow.

 

For a while, in fact, we had both been members of the famous all-conquering Falmouth Packet All-Stars football team of the late 1960s and early ‘70s. 

 

(In one of those games, I scored all six Packet goals, and the match report in the following week’s paper began with “Mike Truscott was in scintillating form . . . ”  although, ahem, I forget now who actually wrote that.)

 

Another thing Mike and I shared – when we were even younger, in our early to mid-teens – was our love of days out to Plymouth to watch Argyle’s matches in the then Second Division (now Championship).

 

We would each travel up with a group of other lads, and Mike recalled the day when he and his pals waited outside the Home Park ground after a match to seek autographs of their heroes.

 

One of them was Mike Bickle, a former milkman who was snapped up by Plymouth from St Austell and went on to become their top scorer in four consecutive seasons, from 1966-70.

 

With such a golden goal touch, and in the lofty heights of the second tier of the English league system, you might have expected Mike Bickle to have been rolling in riches by then.

 

Except that that era was still a long way off from today’s rosy financial picture for professional footballers.

 

At very least, there was no Jag or Bentley for the ace marksman, according to the evidence recalled by Mike Buckley: “He very happily signed our match programmes for us and then went over to his car – which turned out to be a clapped-out banger of a Mini!

 

“It was so clapped out, in fact, that it wouldn’t start.  So he called us over and asked if we could give him a push start. We were all only too delighted to do that, of course; we did get him going all right, and he gave us a thumbs-up out of his window as he finally drove off.”  

MAYBE IT WORKED FOR HAALAND, BUT RAPPO MIGHT DISPUTE THIS THEORY!

For all his staggering goalscoring feats in recent years and his astronomical transfer fee and wages, Erling Haaland has been misfiring a little too often for Manchester City of late.

 

I notice he was back on the scoresheet yesterday when he returned after another injury absence.

 

While he was out of action, I got to thinking that it would not surprise me at all, in this day and age, if we had learnt that his employers had brought in a life coach to help him rediscover his magic touch.

 

And having been down that positive-thinking road myself to some extent, I recalled one of the “rules” of the game, namely that by Visualising Your Desired Outcome you actually make it that much more likely to come about.

 

I buy that to a certain extent, and it’s a fact that plenty of people of similar devotion swear by it.

 

But there’s one guy I know well who I suspect would have big doubts on that score. Mark “Rappo” Rapsey clearly visualised his outcome – didn’t he just! – when he had a great scoring opportunity in a vital match for his favourite club, Falmouth Town.

 

You’ll see what I mean with this extract from his autobiography, IT’S A RAP, recalling Town’s 1-0 win over St Blazey in the South Western League Cup Final at Truro in 1991:--

 

Then, three minutes into injury time, I had the chance to put the game to bed and bury all those nerves – and I fluffed it!  Tommy headed out of defence and I was suddenly clear, outpacing Dave Jones and closing in on goal, with Nutey coming out to meet me.  

 

It was a favourite finishing scenario of mine.  The ball was still bouncing nicely for me and, with Nute well off his line, the ball begged to be lobbed over him and into the net.  In my head, I was actually already celebrating – I could see the headlines (no kidding).  

 

Only snag, my lob hit the top of the bar and bounced safely behind the goal. I couldn’t believe it.  I was absolutely gutted.  If they get the equalizer now, I thought, I will never live it down; I will blame myself forever.  I felt certain that if it went to extra time, St Blazey would have won it.  

 

But it didn’t, and when the ref blew for time – a few minutes after my dreadful miss – it was the best final whistle I had ever heard. I fell to my knees with relief.  I even broke my teetotal rule by joining in the celebrations with a shandy afterwards!

 

A VERY SEDATE PUBLIC SPAT, 1980s-STYLE

Not easy to recall now, I know, but there was a time when a weekly newspaper’s readers’ letters page would be a hotbed of lively comment and debate on local topics.

 

Sadly, that is rarely the case now, with social media long since having become first stop for anyone with an axe to grind.

 

An extreme instance has been the recent flood of bile surrounding our poor Princess of Wales’ health.

 

But no day passes without plenty of other lesser examples, with no holds barred and liberal use of gutter language – partly, of course, because it is all so instantly possible, before the worst of our emotions can be reined in. 

 

The Falmouth Packet of July 9, 1988, published a letter that amounted to a public spat between a reporter and a well-known local retailer but which, by comparison with today’s at-each-other’s throats arena, was positively sedate.  

 

The subject matter was another of those what-if projects that were grand in their ambition but never became reality, and the letter also touched on that other hoary old chestnut, media “bias.” 

 

Here’s how that letter, from Mr A Acton-Page, Trago Mills regional branch manager, began:--

 

“I know your reporter was at the Trago (Longdowns) site meeting because I saw her. She did not speak to anyone from the company.

 

“I have to assume that her pencil was broken because her report is so inaccurate that although I had promised myself that I would not write on this subject again I am somewhat forced into it.”

 

Much “fact”-disputing followed before Mr Acton-Page concluded:  “It must sadden the thousands of supporters of this project, and the hundreds of job-seekers, that these inaccuracies can be printed in such a way as to appear to negate the wishes of so many of them and whilst you have stated to me that the Packet does not take sides I leave your readers to draw their own conclusion.”

 

The reporter involved, Moira Holden, fired back with the footnote defending her article and adding: “Mr Acton-Page’s suggestion that I didn’t speak to anyone from his company is unjust because I spoke to his employer, Mr Mike Robertson, at the site meeting and asked for his comments.

 

“Perhaps Mr Acton-Page is upset that I didn’t speak to him about the proposed Longdowns site, but my policy is to speak to the man at the top.

 

“If Mr Acton-Page had taken the trouble to enquire within his company, he would have discovered that I had spoken to Mr Robertson.”

 

So there!  Both combatants, you could say, made their points forcefully but in controlled and measured fashion.  With not a single emoji or foul word to be seen!