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The continuing recollections of retired lighthouse keeper Harold Taylor.
It was soon after this that I got my marching orders, and I was not really sorry. I had had 5 good years on Sark, and stuck with this cussed crew it was a relief. My tales are not over however. In fact the underlying reason for my removal was in a way my own fault, but at the same time looking after my fellow man.
Before the departure of Paul the telephone authorities decided to modernise by putting in an automatic exchange. This disclosed the same difficulties that Alderney had experienced. With a lot of preliminary enquiries before I got to Sark the Pleas had approached Trinity as to whether they would assist with the 999 service in view that there would no longer be a manned exchange.
Trinity had accepted the situation probably without any consultation with the keepers, and established that a remuneration equal to that received at Alderney, which at the time was £500. Two years or more elapsed before the system was set up. I was on station at the time of the inception and I was called to the Seignuery for a meeting with the Emergency Committee for the adoption of the scheme.
When it came to asking me to accept the scheme at the rate of £500. I pointed out that the rate was not appropriate at the time. During the time that had since elapsed, that payment on Alderney had increased to £800. The conditions in the original agreement was that the remuneration was to be the same as that island. This caused shock and consternation.
However the change over was put into effect, but in the meantime the Seignnuer decided to take this up with Trinity, who overrode that there should be any increase in the agreed rate which was only half the truth. In fact they asked me to justify asking for more, and parity with the other island.
This was not difficult as a very different state of affairs existed. I have forgotten now if we had a remote control for the fire siren. But our biggest difficulty was that every person concerned had to be contacted by phone and it really relied upon local knowledge, which perhaps new people to the island would not be cognisant with.
The chance of actually finding anyone at home was very remote. It was a question of ' nous'. Knowing which pub individuals might be ensconced at any particular time of day, and who each individual was tucked up with at the time. For Sark was the original Permissive Society because of their archaic marriage laws.
There was a case in point and this occurred one Saturday lunch time. I had an emergency call to a fire, but the caller rang off just having said that a boat was on fire. However I recognised the callers voice and was able to send the fire brigade over to a farm on Little Sark. Not to the harbour as one might have expected. It was one of those days that is reminiscent of the old musical hall joke.
It took 5 minutes to put the fire out but five days to get the firemen out. For the fire had taken place at the home of a fine imbiber Philip Perrie. It was his daughter who had called, I was familiar with her voice so knew where to send the fire engine.
On the island there was the main church, which I had become an attendee when I was free from duty, although a Catholic. There was also an active Methodist congregation and a Salvation Army presence. The small number of Catholics were catered for with a weekly service in the summer by visiting clergy from Guernsey. In the winter this reduced to once a month.
I became in the habit of assisting the priest at whatever venue we had, as the congregation in the main was women. Except in the summer there were only about half a dozen. These were the Le Juene's and Peter Petre. There is a little tale to be told about each of these.
At one time when I had visited Arundel where my cousin lived, who was the estate office manager for the Duke of Norfolk, he had asked me if I had ever met the Duke's relative on the island. I had replied in the negative. One day after the service having gone back to the Bel Air with Peter and the priest, over a drink I remarked on this subject, to which Peter replied, ' I expect that's me ' and went on to relate that the Duke was his younger cousin and how when he was a schoolboy at I think Marlborough College, he had notice everything being painted blue and white, and when he enquired why, was told that his cousin was starting at the school. Peter was well over 70, but assisted with the tender that serviced the Hydrofoil.
The Le Juene's were a different kettle of fish, a more gentle and loveable couple you could not imagine. Albert was a Jew and Sita a convert, but they both attended the service. They both came from long standing Belgium Banking families and during the war had carried on the financial business of the Belgium Govt. through their offices in what is now known as Burundi.
When first I got to know them, they still carried on their main business from that country. They were shortly to abandon there for another base. Their son carried on an active international insurance business from Sark and they employed a girl from Burundi.
I was often invited to the old couples home, and Albert seemed to regard me as some intelligent and worldly being, and enjoyed to discourse with me. He would tell me how his grandfather told him of conversations with Rousseau. He played the cello and on his visits to England would play in quartets with the Sassoon's at notable centres. They were all around their eighty's. Soon after I left they followed their son to Canada where I believe they both soon died.
Soon after I went to Sark, I read of a successful claim by a British worker in Spain, where he was able claim all his tax repaid for income earned abroad. I thought that I filled this same category, and made application. Dave Spurgeon reckoned that he was capable of claiming back £8,000, but I could not see how.
However after protracted correspondence the Inland Revenue decided to refund all overseas Trinity personnel. I arrived back from one leave to be told by Bert that he had received a cheque for £560. This was more than I had anticipated. After Bert had left and I went up the island I met the wife of Norman Wakeley, a Sarkie, who had a condition of employment only to work in the Channel Islands. I asked if she had heard anything on the subject, and quite unenthusiastically she said that she had just received a cheque.
I remarked about the amount Bert had received, and she quite disappointedly said no not that much, only £370. I stated I could not understand that, and she withdrew the cheque from the envelope, turned pale and exclaimed, O my God/. From which I decided that she had misread the amount and it was probably £3,700. When I later received mine, which was back pay, followed by another of a similar amount later, it paid for my wife and I to travel to South Africa to see our son who was then working there and had recently got married.
The amount I received was much larger than I anticipated, because the IRO paid in full including leave, whereas I had expected the leave to have been disregarded.
I passed the majority of my time whilst on the station with knitting. I had gained a few orders locally and people were always coming to me in the anticipation that they would get a cheaper item from me than from the local shop. In fact it cost me almost as much for my wool as the shop was paying for a finished garment.
I therefore concentrated on doing the one off item, knitting Coats of Arms into a Guernsey. One 'special' I did was to knit a map of the island into one, showing all the rocks and roads. I got a second request for this which I got permission to do. I used to borrow a knitting machine from John Carre's wife, with which I did all the plain pieces. I had offered to purchase it, as she could not use it.
It meant I had to collect and return it each relief, that was a bit of a chore. The church women were sewing new kneelers for the church and one day they approached me, telling me that they had obtained £50 from Trinity for a three seater pew and would I sew it. This I did and it remains in the church in a front pew. I worked my initials into the side panels.
From my meetings at The Seignuery, I got to know Michael Beaumont and his wife Diana quite well.
I was already regularly visiting her parents' house for a cup of tea. When I left the island I think they were quite sorry to see me go as I got on well with all around, and he probably felt that he was in a way responsible for me going. They invited me up for a going away meal. I am quite sure that this was the first time a keeper was so treated by the Seignuer. Whether there were others afterwards, I do not know.
I was fortunate in several ways on the island, especially at Xmas time. Two of the pubs held grand draws. I returned after Xmas leave one year to find I had won the first prize of gallon of whisky. Of course everyone thought I should share it with them, many had the equivalent in beer. The following year I was on the island, but did not go up for the draw, but was telephoned to say I had won the gallon again.
I have forgotten what the event was, but shortly afterwards there was a big do; perhaps it was 25 years of the Queen's accession, which I attended. There was an auction being held for local charity and General Bull officiated. At this I sponsored two bottles of whisky which raised over twenty pounds.
I am afraid I did not get credit for it, as Pat Taylor gave the bottles to the auctioneer from the cellar and although it was stated they were given by Mr Taylor everyone got the wrong idea.
I had quoted that Richard and Mike did not see eye to eye in the end. Other reasons were, when they went up for a drink together Richard would spend a long time over his drink. As Mike said ' How can you go out drinking with a fellow who takes all afternoon to drink half a pint.' Another amusing incident was when they were going ashore.
They both lived in the same area and needed to travel in the same direction, but could not agree upon the means or times they would achieve it.
In the winter, planning this trip home could be quite complicated, for the boat only travelled officially on three days with one return trip. However there would be charters and it was a constant enquiry, whether there was one due. In which case it was a rapid scramble to get to the harbour, or the most likely landing place depending on the weather.
I recall once it was touch and go till the last and I believe it was Christmas Eve. The sea was very rough and the service boat had been cancelled. It was not till the last minute that we knew a launch would be arriving at the far end of the island prepared to take aboard any that were prepared to make the hazardous journey.
We got a tractor to the nearest point then trudged across fields and clambered down cliffs till we arrived at this old landing place where we had to drop into the boat. I think it was probably the roughest trip I have ever made in a small boat, but the skipper was Rueben Robilliard a skilful fellow who had coxed the lifeboat.
I do not remember the manner on that occasion that I travelled back to England, I expect it was by air, but during my stay on the island I had resorted to the boat, there were several reasons for this. I have mentioned before that there was a system where one could book up in advance provisionally for the air trip , but only from the island side.
One had to pay for your return trip a month before to confirm it. Despite my good relationship with the Guernsey flight office, I was let down once and had difficulty getting a flight. I had to resort to the ship, which by now had started to sail from Portsmouth. This arrived at St Peter Port about an hour before the first boat to Sark and left me enough time to get a breakfast, and have a full day on Sark without worries.
I subsequently found I could also do this provisional booking with the boats, and I opted to book up a whole year in advance, but it seemed again that I could only do that Guernsey end. This had a bonus in disguise, for when I made my first trip I approached the steward about a cabin and found myself taken to one on the bridge. It was a spare pilots cabin. There was a cup of tea and an early call.
Quite surprisingly the steward would not even take a tip. This happened on all but one occasion when there was a change of Chief Steward or Purser. However a ships officer saw me slumbering on the saloon coach and pointed it out to the new Purser and it never happened again. I had fallen on my feet at last.
Retired Lighthouse keeper Harold Taylor completed his second tour of duty at Sark in May 1980 after being stationed there for five years. His next place was to be the Eddystone lighthouse.
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