Biography, Autobiography, Old Steve of Scarborough, North Yorkshire, United Kingdom

1. The pub saga would hardly be complete, which in reality it never will be, as there was just so much that I could relate and if I were to do so, would probably drive you to distraction, without some mention of the local Fishing Community and Ghosts.

2. Fishermen, the salt of the earth or the salt of something, as many will tell you and perhaps a few really were and there might still be some, but they are a dying breed along with the fish they are trying to catch and both, of a decent quality, are very hard to find these days. Most of them are now money grubbing, ale swilling louts, with little regard for the law and certainly with no moral scruples or character. Some may even say, 'So what's new?' but to be fair they were not all like that, as I have already said, and some were very colourful characters indeed. I became involved with them in two main ways, if you exclude the Comic Banding, and that was through the Pub and the Coastguard and Lifeboat Service.

3. They were always a transient bunch and would move from pub to pub and often do so through one of them falling out with someone or even with himself, when too drunk to even remember with whom or why he had fallen out. But someone would come up with something stupid or irrational and they would either split or move on. Therefore, over a period of time, we could vary from a few, who had little idea of where the rest were going or had gone or why, or who had fallen out among themselves and for the moment were going their own way, to quite a large regular crowd. I will give them one thing and that was the vast majority would make an effort, before they came ashore from their trips, to have a wash and a change of clothing and I say that while asking if you have ever stood close to a commercial Fisherman who has not had a wash? The exception tended to be the Inshore men, who worked in the smaller boats, and who having only been out for a few hours a day thought it acceptable to walk about stinking of rotten fish, diesel oil and everything else associated with their trade. Overall, the inshore lads are an 'honest bunch' who wouldn't think twice about fishing or 'shooting pots' in the same area as a colleague, if they thought he was doing better than they were, or emptying a few pots belonging to the opposition, be that friend or foe. Pinching other people's gear or plundering their pots and nets was perfectly acceptable and all part of the day's work, to some, as long as 'you' didn't get caught. Many of the Inshore men would fish commercially, in the winter, and then take out visitors, 'on angling trips' in the summer. It being considered 'a good earner and easy pickings' and during this time they would 'kill' to get the upper hand and entice a potential and gullible holiday maker away from the opposition. They would lie through their teeth, claiming the other guy didn't know what he was doing, didn't know where the fish were but they did, and the favourite was to claim that the other guy would not be 'running' his next trip for a variety of reasons, but they were running and were not, and never did have, engine problems, like he often has, or what have you. When they did get a 'load' or party they would then only take them a short distance, onto a sand bank, where fish were rare but, due to the sand, the anchor never got stuck and they lost little gear and their punters paid for all this. Then whilst in the harbour and touting for work they would apply every conceivable dirty trick imaginable if they thought it gave them the edge. When it was quiet and trade was slack they would moor their boats, against the landings, and then go away for a 'break,' thus making it impossible for anyone else to operate in their absence and this would be against their own kind. They would always choose a place that caused maximum disruption and each would do it to the others and this was the sum total of the brains they had between them. Another trick was for a few to band together, in the summer, and apply 'bully boy' tactics and then they were really 'hard men' and could and did even offer and threaten physical violence to anyone perceived as opposition and these were grown men who and where some had families and were 'bringing up' children. These groups, who as individuals, were as soft as shit and hadn't a brain between them, would then organise it so that they all 'touted' for one boat at a time, leaving their other boats to block out everyone else. Come alongside them or attempt to move a boat and the 'gang' would descend.

4. Another trick, employed by the older end, those just finding a bit of something to do in the summer, for beer money and tax free cash and what have you, and operating solo and outside the organised groups, was to patiently wait until they could get onto a mooring and then make very little effort or attempt to fill their boat and refuse to move it on the grounds that it was their 'turn.' Some of those organised in 'gangs' and working the pleasure trips, during the summer, were just as bad, if not worse, and through their strength in numbers, thought they owned the harbour and that they could moor up and work from anywhere they fancied and at a whim change it, ignoring who it blocked off, inconvenienced or who was forced to move and a very weak and totally ineffectual Harbour Management didn't help. The attitude from the Harbour Master's Office, where there were two Harbour Masters, required to run a two-pence, half penny harbour, was that everyone paid harbour dues and therefore all had equal rights and if gangs 'grabbed' more rights than others then fair enough by them as it was your responsibility to sort out domestic issues.

5. But enough of the harbour and harbour politics and the idiots involved in them, we were talking about the deep-sea fishermen and the days when there were some great characters, although perhaps some dubious ones among them, and when they came into the Pub.

6. Most worked on a 'share basis.' In other words they went to sea for an undetermined period of time, days to weeks, and on return the catch was landed and sold on the market at the prevailing prices. The proceeds were deposited 'in the office' and each crewman was entitled to a share, determined by the job he did and the arrangement with the skipper, and he could draw that share, in cash, from the office. The sensible and more mature, the minority, would only draw part of their money and save the rest so that 'wives' etc could draw on it while they were away or so that there was something there to tide them over the lean times when they were catching very little and to pay their taxes, of course. But fishermen are fishermen and the majority drew everything due to them and to hell with taxes, and it burnt a hole in their pocket until spent. Wives, of the married and often those married to others but feeling free and taking advantage of their absence, would gather on the piers, at all times of the day and night, to catch these guys before they could get into the town. If they didn't then within a matter of hours there would be nothing left to wrestle away from them and families would suffer until the next time, if there were a next time. There were no set times for sailings or landings, except those imposed by the skippers or the state of the tide, when there would be insufficient water in the harbour to allow them to enter or leave, and so they were constantly and randomly coming and going. Having had little or nothing to eat, before coming ashore, they would become drunk very quickly, and although each, to a man, would profess to be a hardened and accomplished drinker, many were not and were a sad sight to see as their women folk, who had to get hold of the money, by any means, would encourage them to swill it down their necks, in an attempt to render them useless so they could go through their pockets and fight off their amorous advances. Others, who could also smell money, would have similar ideas and so the beer would flow in vast quantities as they crawled over them and they would believe, almost to a man, that it was because women found them physically attractive and irresistible. They did, for their money. The wives were often from fishing backgrounds and they knew the score, accepted it and sadly passed it on to their descendants. One woman would swing her 'husband' round by his hair while he, in a drunken stupor, would be holding on to the phone and trying to place a bet, of several hundred pounds, on a horse, which had as much chance of winning as he had of reaching home with any money left. Often those who had managed to drag 'their man' through a supermarket, on the way up town, would end up having everything thrown about, as an expression of wasted money, should the cash run out, for booze, too soon. The odd fight would often break out when they picked on visitors and bragged about how much money they earned from fishing, a favourite saying being, 'We plough the sea for money and when its done we plough for more while you daft bastards work all week for f*** all,' and then add to it that if anyone wanted to argue they could take on all comers, as they were hard men, and who was going to be first? One guy, who decided that I was his friend, as I had 'saved him and all his crew,' was an idiot when it came to picking fights and usually ended up getting badly hurt and never learning from it. I do not wish to speak ill of the man, as sadly he lost his life, not at sea as you might think, but by going the way that many others had before him. His boat having landed (unloaded their fish and sold it) somewhere up north, he and his crew had gone ashore for a 'little drink.' On his return, onboard, he needed to relieve himself and so going to the outer rail of the boat, a common trick, tripped and toppled over the side and was found floating the following morning. The remainder of the crew, probably just as drunk that night, would interpret his absence as being due to having found someone to cuddle up to for the night. His father had also been a fisherman and he was the only guy that I knew of, who smashed a mirror in a toilet, as he said the guy in it was grinning at him. He, the one who drowned, along with many others, was always dodging about and moving from boat to boat and from shore based address to address to avoid the tax man and a host of other sundry debts. Them all thinking that all the money was theirs and that they had some god given right to it all and to spend it all before anyone else got their hands on any part of it. One other guy claimed he was of no fixed abode, had no National Insurance Number, was not registered with any Doctor or Dentist and had not paid one single penny piece in taxes or any other dues throughout his life and bragged of the days when 'shares' were in excess of a thousand pounds per trip. Another, so drunk one day, walked straight across the road and into the path of an oncoming car. He went up and over the bonnet and high up into the air. I saw it, as I happened to be outside at that moment, and along with all his shopping and bag of wet fish that spread out everywhere, he landed with a sickening thud. Along with others I rushed over to him only to be roughly pushed aside as he staggered up and away into the pub while the local kids helped themselves to what he had left behind. He had some skin off the side of one hand and one knee and a few bruises in other parts. So much for the power and protection of drink!

7. But back to our man, for a moment, who sadly and tragically drowned with his willie still in his hand, and his 'affection' for me. Most of the trawlers were owned and still are, by Fishing Companies and the Skippers would either be hired or have part shares in the boat and all, serving on board, would be subject to the share system. Somehow my 'friend' had been hired, I assume, to take out this particular Trawler, perhaps the regular skipper was on holiday or sick, and, as I was to find out later, had instructed his man, on the wheel, to follow the same course as the guy in front, who had 'set sail' and left the harbour at about the same time. The following morning, early and around daybreak, he went up into the wheelhouse and enquiring where the guy up front was and was informed that he had 'disappeared' during the night. So where were they? Supposed to be following the other guy, as he surely knew where he was going and would lead them safely back. Who then knows how to work the 'Decca Navigator'? You do. No I don't, don't you? No.

8. Meanwhile relaxing in the Coastguard Station and glad to be away from the Pub for a while, the watch had just begun and the routine tasks, performed at take over times, completed, when the radio 'came on'. A vessel calling Scarborough Coastguard and asking if he could move from the International Calling Channel to a private working channel? I suggested a channel and waited for him to come back to me. When he did it was to tell me that he was having problems with his navigation equipment and required assistance. I established, as was routine procedure, that he had no other problems and therefore, at that stage, did not require the immediate assistance of any other vessel. I then had to try and establish where he was, so by asking in what direction, he believed, he had gone after leaving the harbour, how long he had been steaming and at what speed. Breaking off and instructing him to standby, on that channel, I turned to our charts and taking into account tides, their flow rates and direction, the wind strength from the previous shipping forecast and it's direction, attempted to quickly work out the general area where I believed he might be. I was a little concerned that he had not done all this for himself, but he hadn't and so could not concur with my findings. I took a calculated risk for if my calculations were correct, I estimated that he was some distance off land and to the north, so I asked him to send out and post a 'lookout' and report if they could see land. No. So far so good! Was his compass working? Yes. Could he make and maintain a steady eight knots? No; about seven in the prevailing sea conditions. Fine; place a man in the bow, as a lookout, turn to compass bearing, 'due west' and maintain seven knots and radio in, on this channel, every fifteen minutes. From where I believed he was, I struck a line due west, on the chart, and stepping it off, estimated where I thought he should be every fifteen minutes. It was essential as at a certain estimated time, I hoped he would make 'landfall', hence the necessity for the lookout, forward, on his boat. I then settled down to make up the 'log' and to inform all interested parties, who may have had to take action had I got it wrong although he was not in any immediate danger. Slightly earlier than I anticipated he called to say there was land forward of his bow. I asked him to close in and see if he could pick out any known landmarks, as there were several marked on the chart, in the area, where I then believed him to be. No, he could recognise nothing. OK, then turn south and still maintaining a lookout, follow the coastline and continue to call in every fifteen minutes or sooner if a recognised landmark came up. When he left the harbour he had headed out into the north sea and then steamed north/ north east and from what he had told me, over the radio, about the prevailing wind, sea conditions and time at sea and what I had then calculated from a combination of that information and that available to me in the Coastguard Station, it tended to tell me he had not gone far enough to the north for there to be no land off his Port Side and so I had basically got him to turn left and to steam forward, on a westerly course, until he saw the coastline and then turn south and follow it back down until he got home. Had I got it wrong and he had not seen land, in the estimated time, then that would have shown that he had either told me wrong or I had miscalculated somewhere and that would have resulting in the scrambling of Search and Rescue 'Nimrods', Helicopters, Lifeboats and anything else in the area that we could have laid our hands on. After that the number of times he related, to my acute embarrassment, the dramatic rescue of not only him but of his boat and all his crew, became a bit boring.

9. He never went deep-sea fishing again after that, as a Skipper, but one day he took out a fairly large boat, in which to fish locally. Now I will give him one thing, it was a bit jowly at the entrance, as the Harbour Watch Keeper put it. To you and I that means that it was lumpy and rough, as the result of a combination of wind and tide, and not easy to get through the harbour entrance and therefore it was essential, before attempting to do so, to get the direction and timing just right and to proceed with extreme caution. Later, when asked how he had managed to get very tight and up against the harbour entrance wall and to get all his rigging entangled in the scaffolding, erected around the Lighthouse area, for maintenance purposes, and to pull the whole lot down and into the sea, he replied and was reported by the interviewing news paper reporter as claiming, 'Good seamanship, son! Just good seamanship.' Rest his soul and that of many others. But we were in the Pub or the Coastguard Station where it was warm and cosy and not getting lost or pulling down scaffolding in some pretty poor weather conditions and do you know that sea water freezes at something like minus seventeen and I have seen them have to continuously smash it off the superstructure, to prevent the build up of ice from rolling them over. That's a tough way to make a living.

10. One age-old tradition, the history of which totally eludes me, was for them to leave 'treats' behind the bar. Many of them would hand over twenty pound notes, before they spent them, and ask us to ensure that 'so and so' received it. This maybe either to repay a debt or to ensure that someone, who they knew was having a hard or lean time, had something from which to have a drink. They did it all the time we were there and on occasions we had some quite considerable sums behind the bar and every note would have a name written on it, by us. They just trusted us to hand it over. It was also acceptable and standard practice for them to come in and ask if there was a 'treat' behind the bar for them and if there was not, not to argue and simply to leave without a word. The strangest aspect of it all was that no one ever asked who had left it and we were not expected to reveal that either, although that hardly mattered as no one asked, but I have heard Landlords say they had lost a whole bunch of them as bar staff, ignorant of the system, had inadvertently said, 'So and so has left you a treat,' and not, 'There is a treat for you behind the bar.' The whole idea being that no one should know who favoured who or why they chose not to treat everyone equally.

11. One morning our cleaner, bless her, came running upstairs, in a dreadful state, to say there was a funny noise in the bar. I went down and found several live lobsters, both in and out of a plastic bag, which had been 'forgotten' the night before. In that case, as in many other similar ones, we shared them out and no one ever enquired after them.

FAVOURITES.