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<p>Back in May I had two pieces in successive copies of The People's
Friend. On the old site someone suggested I post one of them for those
who didn't see a copy but it has taken until now to track the originals
down. A change of computers since submission caused the confusion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When
my son read the published piece his only comment was, "Pity about the
typo." I am delighted to say that on reading the original the error was
not mine so thoughts of his mother becoming senile are grossly
exaggerated. I'll put the solution at the end for those who read the
magazine and missed it as several other people had done before my son
pointed it out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><strong>"Ahoy There!" - The People's Friend (9-5-2009)</strong></span></p>
<p> </p>
<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><strong></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><strong> </strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A popular treat during our summer holidays with relatives
was to spend a day on the Royal Pier at Southampton.
Unlike many seaside resort piers the Royal Pier was not a scene of arcade
attractions. In the fifties and sixties you could always be sure of seeing
plenty of shipping movements as the great ocean liners visited the port.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The pier itself had many attractions, as there was a small
shop, a cafeteria, from which a tray of tea could be taken out if required, and
plenty of seating. For adults, the Mecca Ballroom housed in the Pier Pavilion,
was a popular venue. A line of shelters ran down the centre of the pier forming
a wind break on blustery days. The curved cast-iron seats that lined both sides
of the pier made a great base from which to set off on our explorations. Whilst
our mother and aunt chatted, read and maybe did their knitting we were free to
roam so long as we remained in sight.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The planks of the pier had quite large cracks between
allowing the movement of the water to be observed. Sometimes there was debris
from the ships being floated through the stanchions but more often than not
there was simply the gentle lapping of water against the uprights as the tide
ebbed and flowed. We held tightly to any pocket money we had taken along as the
cracks were large enough to swallow most coins.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">From the end of the pier you may see fishermen with their
rods and lines patiently awaiting a bite. I don’t know how successful they were
but do recall on one occasion, whilst we were kneeling up on the seats to get a
better view over Southampton Water, that we saw a whole mass of jellyfish pass
under the pier. Like a bizarre game of Pooh sticks we rushed to the other side
to see them emerge. We could see their tentacles and saw how the bell filled
propelling them along. We noted four small circles on the bell. The jellyfish
swam just below the surface of the murky water that shone rainbow colours with
the oil that had been spilled and one wonders just how healthy it was for them.
However, wild life was not our objective.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The daily local paper, the Southern Evening Echo, printed
lists of ships arriving or departing the next day in their diary section. We
knew you could generally see a Cunard liner, either the Queen Elizabeth or
Queen Mary (the originals) on a Monday or a Thursday, as these were their
arrival and departure days. Other ships were less predictable. Sometimes we saw
a ship called the America
that had distinctive, finned funnels, and you may see a Union-Castle ship on
its way either to or from South
Africa. These ships docked in the New Dock
area and, as they had to pass the end of the pier, you had a better look at
them. I recall the Edinburgh Castle and Pendennis
Castle amongst others.
The hull was a pleasant shade of lilac with white superstructure.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Cunard liners, which docked at the Ocean Terminal, did
not come up as far as the pier itself. The deep water channel was marked with a
string of buoys, though, and you had a good view of the tugs turning the mighty
ships to enter the dock itself. For this they had to overrun the dock and then
turn in. There were generally four tugs involved with two pushing and two
pulling at any one time. These manoeuvres took quite a while and must have been
a poignant time for passengers as the end was so close yet tantalisingly slow.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Occasionally, if we were very fortunate, we were taken on a
harbour cruise that took you close up to the side of some of the liners and
made you really appreciate their massive size. The tiny trip boats bobbed up
and down even in the comparative calm of the docks and the splendour of those
liners was somewhat overpowered by the stench of oil that surrounded them at
sea level. Long streaks of rust could be seen below the many pipes that lead
from the side and to some extent the ships lost their impressiveness with this
display of vulnerability to the elements. I remember making one trip around
dusk and the sight of the massive liners all lit up was quite magical.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Besides the great ocean liners there was plenty of other
marine activity to keep us occupied. The regular Red Funnel ferries to the Isle of Wight left from alongside the pier and there were
cargo vessels and oil tankers as the huge Fawley oil refinery was on the
opposite bank. Early on an occasional flying boat was seen in action although
most of the time these were at anchor in Southampton Water and on the pier
itself a Supermarine Seaplane was displayed. This forerunner of the Spitfire
had broken the World Air Speed record over Southampton Water in 1931.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The pier shop sold postcards of the most frequent visitors
to Southampton and we often purchased one if
we had seen a different ship. Such simple pleasures seemed to satisfy us then.
We always took a picnic of sandwiches and cakes and crisps but tea was
purchased from the cafeteria as and when required, which seemed quite often in
the case of the adults.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">On one memorable occasion the Royal Yacht Britannia came
into port and the pier was quite crowded on her arrival and departure days. The
demand for harbour trips was high but we managed to reach the front of the
queue eventually and we were part of a flotilla of boats following at a
distance as she left port. Even though we couldn’t get as close as usual to the
boats that day it was a wonderful trip.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At the end of the day everything had to be packed up into
the bags and, after a last ice cream, we set off to catch a bus back to our
grandmother’s house.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">(And the typo? Apparently they thought finned Tunnels rather than Funnels adorned the ship.)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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<![endif]--></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Things have been pretty quiet on the writing front recently
and then, like buses, three things came along at once. I had a letter published
in a writing magazine on a subject which had already been the theme for an
article elsewhere. Then I learned that a contribution had been accepted for the
Writelink Christmas Magazine which was very gratifying. Finally I received the
latest Best of British magazine and discovered a couple of the items I had
submitted at their request for their Christmas Collation had been included.
Again, one of the pieces was based on an earlier piece of work.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The rest of the memory pieces won’t go to waste as my OH and
I are putting together anecdotes from our childhood for our children and
grandchildren. Both of us wish our own parents had written down some of the
stories they shared orally with us as the memory plays tricks over time and
fact and fiction become confused. The Chinese whispers syndrome kicks in and,
when you start investigating, you discover all sorts of anomalies.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It was September when Best of British first asked for
Christmas memories and October when the call went out for contributions for the
Writelink Magazine but this is really quite late to be considering sending
Christmas material to publications. I knew that fiction with a Christmas theme should
generally sent before June but was surprised last year when sending a Christmas
tip to a magazine to be told to resubmit the idea in August of this year for
consideration. (I did – they turned it down!) So this year I will be taking
photos of anything I can think of that may illustrate items on the Festive
Season and try writing up the ideas during the winter months. Then I will be
ready to send things off and be first in the queue.</p>
<p>I wrote this for my website blog but thought I would share it here with fellow Writelnkers, many of whom may have their own specials stories of sales successes - or disasters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Boxing Day and the sales have started – that is those that had not
already been running since before Christmas. Sales were even running
on-line on Christmas Day itself. Today retail outlets are reminiscent of
a Dutch auction. Stock is displayed at ever decreasing prices until a
buyer is found.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sales used to be so much more fun. Sales were held twice yearly, in
June and January, and many people looked forward to their sales
shopping, not least for the sense of danger, and even saved towards it.
Today the goods are displayed in dump bins or trays or simply left upon
the shelves with bright red labels attracting attention. In the past
stock was often brought in especially for the sales. There was no
attempt to produce tempting displays. Instead household furnishings such
as towels, sheets and curtains were simply tipped out in a mound on the
shop floor and shoppers pulled out the items that took their fancy.
What Health and Safety would make of these unsteady towering piles today
can only be imagined but in the Fifties and Sixties shoppers happily
took part in a deadly tug of war to achieve their prize.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides imported stock there were all the ends of ranges – buttons,
knitting patterns, rolls of dress materials and clothes galore – that
had to be cleared. Often these items were tipped into trays on the
counter for customers to sift through. Buttons at a penny each were
tempting but so frustrating, too, when it was only possible to find five
matching buttons for a pattern demanding six. End of rolls of fabric
often left very odd amounts to be sold as remnants. Calculations could
be lengthy deciding whether a rearrangement of the pattern pieces might
make it fit the available cloth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Colour was another issue. Often the clothes left at the end of a
season were in the least popular sizes but just as likely the remaining
stock contained many of the more unusual or trendy colour-ways. To find
an entire outfit in the sales was therefore unlikely unless your
requirements were for the odd size or you were prepared to go out on a
limb with an unusual colour combination.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Television today sometimes features crowds queuing outside large
department stores in cities but in the past this would not have been so
newsworthy as queues for sales were common everywhere. Grabbing the star
bargains was a case of being prepared to make sacrifices, arriving
early and being single-minded about heading straight for the appropriate
department once allowed inside. Setting your sights on a less
competitive area could be the key to sales success. There were fewer
people aiming for the menswear departments, for example, so your chances
of bagging a bargain there were far greater.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With shops constantly having sales, special promotions and events,
sales shopping is almost considered the norm today. Buying a product for
the best possible price may involve shopping around, considering
on-line purchasing or even haggling but there is no sense of occasion as
in the past. Like so many seasonal happenings the sales have lost their
unique appeal.</p>
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<p>This week we were requested to pick up an item from a large toy retailer. A
picture was emailed to us, details supplied, right down to the product stock
code. What could be simpler?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The retailer was based on a large complex of such outlets with car parking
provided. So far so good. Surely all we had to do now was go inside, pick up
the item and pay. Being well schooled in recycling measures we had our own
shopping bags. These were forbidden in this store so back to the car to place
said bags in boot. Entering the store we were confronted with a maze that would
have done justice to a stately home. No one alley lead straight into the store.
We were lead backwards and forwards through dolls, construction kits, cards,
wrapping paper, large toys and tiny plastic numbers that would hardly see the
outside of the store before they were lost or broken.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually we made it into the main area and were met with aisle upon aisle
of toys stacked to the ceiling, well above the height even the tallest customer
could reach, and I am not one of those, and virtually no labelling. Everything
was geared to taking customers up and down endless aisles in search of their
needs. No helpful staff were placed strategically to head people to their
required aisle - customers had to rely on fellow sufferers who were vague as to
where they had last spotted the elusive item. Almost fifteen minutes after
entering the store we finally tracked down one pair of in-line skates as
requested. Stock code matched as did all details so now to head for the tills.
But not so fast, we still had to negotiate further aisles before finally
spotting a row of (unmanned) tills beyond the parking lot for a vast array of
transport for the under twos.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An assistant emerged from a backroom, accepted our remittance, asked if we
really needed a bag as it had a carrying handle and, as we left the store, she
retreated once more to her sheltered position behind the scenes. For those of
you who, like us, are more familiar with the toy shop in the photo, be warned,
toy shopping is no longer the eagerly awaited treat.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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