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I found the station poorly kept, recalls retired lighthouse keeper Harold Taylor. I knew the other and junior P.K. from old; although I had not served with him. I knew him to be a very inept keeper, and generally regarded as a laughing stock. He had come to the Eddystone as an S.A.K. when I had been ashore. He had been on station as an A.K. and promoted P.K. since before the P.K. whom I was replacing.
That fellow had fallen in with the practice that had been carried on before. It was a diabolical work schedule which covered a thirteen week rota. When some of these items covered, servicing of batteries and engines are considered, one can probably realise why the station was poorly maintained.
I decided to change this practice while I was on station and went over to my principle of assigning certain areas to keepers. It was not too confusing, because as it turned out keepers were constantly changing. Apart from Tristan I could never tell who I was going to have with me.
The next trip I had a fellow Vise. The P.K on the other shift changed and Brian Harris joined the station. Then Dave Knight became my senior hand but was on the split turn. He was affable enough, but having recently been acting P.K. elsewhere found it a bit difficult to step down, although never wanting to take responsibility. So I still found Tristan my best asset.
The main thing I recall with Dave was a fishing expedition. He was really an excellent bull shitter and a lady's man (his opinion) and not averse to passing himself around. However we had our rods with us and decided to have a spot of fishing.
We had done quite well on the 'set off', but this day we decided to have a go with our rods from the gallery. Did we have success. One afternoon I landed 27 Mackerel and one Pollack. The following afternoon the numbers were reversed. We had more than enough to last us the month so we did not fish any more, and I had little chance of taking any home owing to the distance.
When a ship came one day to fill up our oil tanks, I met with what I considered to be a ridiculous situation. We did not have a central filling point as was standard with modern installations, although all the tanks were coupled. I was told that one had to fill each tank separately. I therefore took over and opened all the tank couplings and put the fuel hose into the top of one tank only.
When I had finished it was remarked that the filling had taken only half the usual time, and with no mess which had usually resulted in switching the hose from tank to tank. Yet the belief had circulated it could not be done. The tanks of the upper engine room did have to be filled separately.
I think the next and successive fill ups were done by helicopter so the incident was not repeated.
There was a pipe from the helipad down to the coupled tanks, so all one had to do was to connect the pillow tank to these points. However I believe that on some stations there had been difficulties, with the result that a small hand pump could be incorporated into the system to give it a starter.
I remarked earlier that the station was in a bad state, one reason for this statement is that in almost every window there was at least one broken pane of glass and also in some storm shutters. I found that on station there was almost enough replacement panes to remedy these defect.
With little encouragement from the rest I slowly and methodically replaced what I could, which lightened up the building, because in some circumstances the cracks had been puttied over and painted black to keep out the water. During the same process I cleaned off a lot of paint round the frames which allowed the windows to close as intended and not drawn in and distorted by the window bolts.
The frames were of gunmetal and precision made with proper closing bevels. However keepers over the years had painted the apertures and the frames with the result that one did not fit into the other as intended, thereby letting in a lot of unnecessary water. Unfortunately over the years by force of using the drawing in bolts some of the frames had become distorted and the situation was little improved despite the good intentions.
One occasion during the Elder Brethrens visits, because of some unforeseen circumstance the ship and helicopter could not return to the station to take off the Visiting Committee. We were stuck with them for an extra two hours, which in the circumstances became interesting.
I found that the Chairman, Capt. Saunders lived close to where I was brought up and in fact lived almost next door to the house where my wife had lived during the war at Heyshott. The other long serving E.B. was Capt. Cloke. who I learned had been in the Port Line, a Line I had served during the war.
It transpired that he knew the skipper I had been with. Lugs Linklater who was still alive. He was able to name the Chief Officer of the boat at the time although it evaded my memory and I was not able to confirm it until I started writing my memoirs.
I am now firmly convinced that this man was the senior cadet on the boat at that time, although I have failed to confirm it. This often now crosses my thoughts as whenever there has been anything that has effected me adversely, Capt. Cloke has been involved. Yet if it is the same 'lad' I did many a good service for him on that trip to Montreal. Capt Mason was also there.
I had arrived on the Bishop in October of one year and left in the August of the next. The circumstances being that my wife had not been too well for a couple of years. I had looked around for a shore station on which we could be together towards the end of my service, and looking toward retirement.
The vacancy at St Catherine's was coming up and I was invited to apply for it. With the knowledge that I had been badly let down over the transfer situation of Europa Point I was not too optimistic. During a leave my wife and I visited the station, then occupied by Graham Fearn, and thought that we would be happy there.
My application was accepted and we moved. This meant selling our home in Worthing and going into tied property. My theory being that we would stay there till the end of my service, and with the proceeds from the sale of the house, when I retired, we could go anywhere with cash in our pockets to put down.
About this same time the 'Once Again' modernised Eddystone was ready. I believe the date was 18th May, to coincide with this towers centenary. It was re-opened with pomp and ceremony. Something like 24 '? VIP's?' were flown out by helicopter for the switching on, but not one Keeper was included.
I was particularly incensed over this. Not only because I was the last Principle Keeper to the station, but it showed with what crass disregard Trinity House had for its staff. I have never once seen any reason for giving T.H. bouquets, many think that I am unjust. My reply to that is, 'Let T.H. show me where.'
It was whilst at this station that I had set back to my health. One day when I was working in the lower engine room, which was particularly crowded with machinery, and thunderous with noise, for some reason that I do not recall now, I received a start that caused me to jerk upwards suddenly. In doing so I crashed my head violently with an object which pushed heavily down on my shoulders and spine.
I came out quite concussed with a small cut in the scalp. I got over this bashing quite well, but next time ashore when I had taken a long journey north to visit my daughter who had recently given birth, I had a problem. Whilst there my left arm started to become useless and when I drove south again I was lucky to have an automatic gear box otherwise I could not have done so.
I attended hospital and had physiotherapy of one type or another plus tablets until they said they could do no more for me because I had spondylosis in my neck. 'Keep taking the tablets.'
Not satisfied with this knowing they had dispensed with my wife in the same terms I went to her Osteopath who had virtually cured her after the hospital and doctor told her she would have to live with it. After about four treatments he seemed to have put me right. One small story of the meanness of Trinity comes out of this.
Of course I was on full pay whilst ill, but possibly from some be-fuddlement caused by all the pills and potions, I thought I had missed a payment from the NHS. Which incidentally I had had to repay to Trinity. However having claimed that the injury was an industrial accident I was getting a second payment. I took that to be as compensation. When Trinity learnt of this they demanded this payment as well.
That is the end of Harold Taylor's tour of duty at Bishop Rock, completed in July 1982. The next place of work was to be St Catherine's off the Isle of Wight.
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