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Home <> Lifestory Library <> Explore By Location <> <> <> Island Life On Sark




  Contributor: Harold TaylorView/Add comments



Harold Taylor was brought up in Chichester, West Sussex through the 20's and 30's before commencing his many careers. Before starting out as a lighthouse keeper he was a policeman. Harold is the youngest of a family of 6 children, hence his nickname, 'Baby Taylor'. Harold takes us through his days at Sark during the 1950's.

From the Hanois I found that my second month's duty was to be on the island of Sark. I was to catch the steamer the following morning to take up my duty. I went to this island completely captivated, because years ago I had read a Wide World magazine that had made me interested in the peculiar set up, and shall I say its mystery.

I forget the name of the ferry now, but it may have been the Isle de Serck. It was an interesting trip as the ship wound its way round the small islands to get to the destination. We came into the Masline Harbour which was a newish acquisition, having been built by the Royal Engineers after the war.

Having arrived on the quay, I used the telephone box to enquire of my next move. In the meantime I was met by John Perrie. My gear and that of many others was piled into the truck on the back of a tractor and so my introduction to the trip up the hill commenced. Once at the top it was into the Bel Air pub to have a few pints before John would move further. There I met his father, Charlie, who was a 'larger than life' character. Charlie spent all day in the pub, occasionally taking customers in his landau on trips from pub to pub, as was the trip round the island those days.

Eventually John moved off and I was taken on a tour round the island before eventually being deposited at the top of the lighthouse steps as the last drop before he went back to another pub.

The set up at Sark was very lax and it came about from a variety of reasons. The Principle Keeper (PK) going ashore, whom I replaced as QRD (quarterly relief duty), was Bill Jane, an oldish man near the end of his service, of whom I think the keepers took advantage and tried to create in his mind that he was loosing his 'marbles'. It may have been genuine, but from talk around, I do not think so. Jimmy Birkmyre, a Lancashire lad had also gone ashore. He was later to die of TB at rather a young age.

Keepers on station were Joe Turvey as KIC (keeper in charge), an ex R.A.F. man. He was a watchmaker by trade, a skill he had put to good use with taking up a new hobby of building miniature steam locomotives. He had married a local girl and was living on the island. The other keeper was Norman Wakely, a local man, whose father was a haulage contractor and Guernsey man in origin, he had married a Sark girl. Her father had a prominent position on the island, being Bailiff. He also owned the farm at the top of the lighthouse steps where we got our milk.

Norman had lived through the occupation as a boy on the island, and after the war was taken on at a lower than usual age by Trinity as a keeper until the light was fully re-established. He remained in the service, probably due to the influence of the Dame of Sark, who was quite influential herself with Trinity.

When I got down to the station, my first impression was that it was filthy, mainly in the kitchen where there were great gobs of soot hanging down. The keepers blamed the PK for it and were not prepared to clean it up despite the fact that the elder brethren were due the next day on their annual inspection. I was not on watch that day as I was on unofficial day off, or twenty four hours clear of watches.

Being on the island was convenient as it meant that, also unofficially, one could absent oneself from the station and enjoy the island or the pubs. My first afternoon was spent shopping in almost the only shop, where I found bread to be even cheaper than at home, there being some kind of subsidy on it. When I got back to the station, the keeper on watch asked if I minded if he went home for awhile. Apparently his wife had only very recently given birth to a daughter. It was their story that this is where the bone of contention had arisen with the PK.

They had been given official permission to be absent from the station during the pending birth of their children, though there was some argument that they had abused this privilege.

Norman's wife had also recently given birth. Norman lived in a rented property on land belonging to his grandfather, where he had numerous chicken sheds and a nice little business going. He had also just bought as lambs, one ram and four ewes. I was quite happy for these keepers to disappear to their homes when I was on watch, as it left me completely to myself.

The day after my arrival I was on morning watch, and could not leave the kitchen in the mess it was, so cleaned it up for the inspection. Unfortunately the morning dawned foggy and I decided that I would eventually have to start sounding for fog.

At this station, the fog signal was what is known as a 'reed', producing a high pitched whistle. The power for it was air, which was produced by a 5-hp semi-diesel Hornsby engine. This was a single cylinder horizontal engine. The means to warm the dome to get the fuel to a combustible temperature was with a blowlamp. I had been given a demonstration of how to start this engine, but I had not allowed for worn out accessories.

The blowlamp was of a type I had been very used to in the plumbing business, being the upright type. However these contraptions had two working positions for the oil supply. There was one position when you were warming the lamp up and the other for putting it in working mode. Every time I tried to get the lamp in the last position, all I got was jets of burning fuel instead of a good blue, roaring flame. Eventually I gave up and called out Joe, who got the thing going nicely. I then discovered that through years of neglect or ignorance, the nipples of the blower were greatly enlarged and needed replacing.

The Hornsby was a lovely little machine when it was going, so quiet and efficient. Again, this was started with a blast of air, and it was easier to start backwards than forwards, but could be started by hand pushing, although there were instructions against this.

When the station was electrified about twenty five years later one of the engines was salvaged by a local resident who was an engineer, but the other, like all Trinity unwanted material was just pushed over the cliff to be a pollution, rather than pay the expense of salvage. When I refer to this being a nice 'little' machine, it did occupy a space of about 10 feet by 5 feet.

While I was on Sark I discovered again that I could get myself usefully employed, and went to work in the garden of Mrs Robson whose husband ran the local power station that supplied the island. She used to discuss with me the situation in Palestine/ Israel, as their very close friend Mike Fallon; the British officer was heavily engaged in fighting the various Jewish terrorist groups. Mike went to Canada to escape reprisals.

I was not alone in my work habit as I found that Joe in his spare time worked for a local builder and did electrical wiring jobs. This was not exactly hazardous, but they did use a lot of material left behind by the Germans and I understand that there were only black wires used.

Norman was busily engaged upon his own enterprises. He had nowhere to flock his sheep, so he cleared the cliff side above the lighthouse of gorse bushes in the closed Trinity ground and left them there to graze.

I had a good time on Sark and enjoyed the island and people, so I was not sorry when on subsequent trips to the Channel Islands I made further visits there. The day I returned to St. Peter Port was not a good day and why I suppose there were few travellers. The skipper of the boat had us in the wheelhouse, and there I met the Dame and had conversation with her most of the crossing.

The trip home was quite uneventful, except for an amusing incident over Customs. I had struck up a friendship with a couple of fellows and girls, whom I think had gone to the Channel Islands to play tennis. One girl had more value of gifts than was permissible. I recall that I got off the boat early and got up to the trestle tables that were set up for the inspection.

I was well ahead of the others, but the man kept me talking about allowances etc, although not making any request to see what I had. In the meantime the others had caught me up and were kept in the queue, getting more and more agitated, the more questioning I went through. Eventually when there was a good queue of people waiting he let me go. By this time the girl with the excess was in quite a stew. I do not remember what happened, other than they called attention to her excess goods.

I think it was whilst I was home on leave that the story broke in the national press about one of the keepers on South Lundy striking another with an 18' spanner. For those technically minded, much was made of the inaccuracy rather than the incident. Apparently the spanner was about 18' long. The man who had done the striking was my friend, Cotterrel. It seems that either a new keeper had been appointed to the station, or the fellow was another S.A.K. like me, learning.

They had been to the island pub together where the newcomer had been giving Dennis some talk that he considered Communistic. Later during the night this had preyed on his mind so he took the spanner and thumped him as he lay in bed. I think he got six months for the offence, and I suppose was discharged from the service. Many months later when I was doing another stint of service on Sark, I received a telephone call from a national newspaper, concerning Dennis. Apparently he had been missing, and his body had turned up on some allotments in the Birmingham area.

They had some story that he had been stationed at Sark. With my police training of course nothing was divulged, but I did check up. I could see nothing to suggest he had ever been at the station.

I had a full month's leave or there about, because I returned to the Channel Islands again. This time going out I met a fellow also going my way, he was Bill Fagg and was going to Casquets for the first time. I was able to impart to him some of the procedure for getting there, for which he was grateful. We had a terrible trip; I recall that the weather forecast was for a storm force 11 and everyone was expecting a rough night. The vessel was so crowded that it was almost impossible to get a seat, and they were already setting up deck chairs in almost every space available and issuing blankets.

We decided to go up on the top deck and set our chairs up behind the funnel to get some protection. We wrapped ourselves in the blankets and settled down for the night, which rained solid all the way across although we did not get the wind that was forecast. In the morning I was a sight. I had worn my cap to keep off the rain, but the rain had penetrated the cap and washed the dye from the lining which now stained my face and collar pink. I think this must have been early September.

I cannot remember any specific details about my visit to the Hanois or to Sark other than I worked again on the latter, and I was on Sark for around the 5th November, because I recall the deputation that went over to Jersey to buy fireworks for the celebration. When they returned Charlie Perrie got so drunk he was unconscious and was placed in his Landau and his horse left to find his own way home, which was not uncommon.

It was also on this second visit that I had a long conversation with Bill Jane, and learned more of his strained relations with the rest of the crew. One incident was when he had been into the village to do his shopping. He had stopped at the Mermaid pub for a drink before coming home. Having unpacked his shopping he set about cooking his dinner, but found the sausages missing. The pub subsequently called to say he had left them on the counter, but I had it on good authority that one of the other keepers had brought them in and left them there.

When I was due to go ashore from the second turn there, Bill went sick, so an emergency relief was arranged. Bill Fagg, who should have been going ashore from Alderney, was called upon to relieve me. He telephoned me from Guernsey and told me the story and asked my advice about boats and groceries etc. Being the only keeper on station I could see me losing a day ashore if he missed the relief.

I was able to tell him that there was a boat leaving for the island in about half an hour and he need not get groceries, as they were available on the island. I then got on to the contractor about the keeper arriving. He arrived at the top of the steps in a horse drawn carriage and we changed over - out with his bags and in with mine and back to the jetty. At this time of year there was only the one boat a day, three times a week.

It was the practice that the SAK doing QRD at Casquets followed this with his second month at Alderney. As the Casquets relief was carried out from that island, he was able to start his second month immediately, and therefore two days ahead of the SAK coming away from Sark.

Whilst I had been on the Hanois this trip, I had also learned a little to my chagrin. There was repair work to be carried out to the landing, for this Le Coutre brought out his usual crew, most of whom just sat about and did nothing whilst two got on with the job in hand. I then discovered that each man was paid £6 for carrying out our relief, which compared very unfavourably with the fact that we only got about £8 per week.

The third time in sequence that I went out to the Hanois was for the Xmas relief - I cannot remember the exact date, but it was intended to be something like 22nd. I was taken ill on the boat overnight and when I went ashore with the keeper who was destined for the Casquets, I was in a state of collapse.

He got onto Charlie at the Trinity Cottages, who advised him to send me out there in a taxi. When I arrived I was examined by the local doctor, who declared that I had Influenza and recommended that I go to bed for three days. First of all I had to establish whether the landlady in St. Peter Port would accept me. She did, so I moved in and went to bed.

The relief was not carried out that day due to the weather. It was carried out before I went off, but of course Dick Packer had to stay behind. There was considerable debate as to whether they would send someone else out to take my place, or whether I would be well enough in time. It was decided in the end to wait for me.

I cannot remember much about the sequence of this relief; John McCarthy had left the service and got married. I think Tommy Cuthbertson had or was in the process of transferring to Anvil Point. There was another SAK out there with Charlie, whether he went off with him I am not sure, but I believe so.

His name was Ernest Fullbrook, a strange lad. He was discharged from the Fleet Air Arm, where he had been a Rigger. Although I never saw it, Charlie alleged that the fellow had a certificate to say he was sane. He had apparently had a breakdown following four air crashes. I believe it was still practised then, that riggers took part in a trial flight after repairs. He finished up in Haslar Hospital, where I believe they house the navy's insane.

He did not stay in the job long. According to him, he owned four cottages near Reading, willed to him by his grandmother; one was lived in by his parents and another by himself, the other two being let.

My relief was carried out on Xmas Eve, unexpected by the crew awaiting me. They would not land any gear, just a quick in and out job, so Dick got ashore for his Christmas after all. We made the best of the circumstances, but it was not plain sailing.

We had an adverse wind for the state of the chimney and cooking our Xmas dinner, so I was invited to make some repairs to the storm guard that morning. It meant climbing on to the roof and precariously perching on the support bars to remove the old copper storm guard, which was eaten away by corrosion. I replaced it with the new one, which weighed about half a hundred weight. In removing the old guard I got a lot of soot, impregnated with copper, in my eyes and had to get off the roof with great difficulty, being almost blinded, with the wind blowing directly into my face.

Charlie treated me with something that was mercury based from the medical box before I was able to return to replace the guard. This was more or less only achieved by someone holding me whilst I reached up to above head height to place it in position. That is really why the operation had not been carried out before - there was no one tall enough to reach the top of the chimney. This made the drawing of the Cornish range much better and Charlie got on with the job of cooking the Xmas dinner, much of the ingredients having been supplied by the WVS Guernsey.

Through St. Peter Port Radio people contacted us and wished us well, but I seem to think that there was a sad note. Bill Christie, the PK on the Casquets, whilst receiving an International Award, was also informed of the death of his wife.

Another source of anger for Charlie was that Le Coutre came out and fished off the lighthouse on Christmas Day, in a calm sea, yet had not brought out any of our stores which we were short of, especially water. Trinity had a clause in their relief arrangements that said no reliefs would be carried out on Christmas Day or Boxing Day and George was exercising this to the full. Despite sailing by the set off and waving fish at us, he never made any indication that he would even have considered landing any. I gather he was of a similar nature at weekends.

No matter how much he knew he was in neglect of storing the lighthouse, and had been prevented during the week, he would not work on Saturday or Sunday, should the weather be perfect and he was sailing in the vicinity.

Because of my illness at the beginning of the month, perhaps Trinity took pity on me, because on this occasion I did not go to Sark as before, but went home on leave. I believe I met Bill Fagg on his way to the station. I certainly recall him thanking me at some stage for the information I had passed on that was useful to him. I cannot remember actually bumping into him for something like another 10 years, although we would often have spoken to each other over the air during our transmission times.
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Mentioned in story
Posted
14 Mar 2015
16:41
By Annabelle
hi , just found this story and I am the child born to joe Turvey , Kic mentioned in this story





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