The Ferry Between Southampton and East Cowes

My Grandad

My grandad was my mother's father. He was born in the South Shields, Cullercoats area of Newcastle. He was a merchant seaman, then a marine in the First World War. After the war ended there was a very big recession in Newcastle and not very much work so he went to London.   I am not very sure of his history around this time but I do know that he met my Grandmother on Exeter bridge and she was immediately attracted to him because of his sailor's uniform. He was very tall and handsome she later said.

Cullercoats Beach

They married at the Parish Church of St Thomas in Exeter, and went to London and lived in a series of rented accommodations while Grandad worked at sea. Then my mother was born, and later on her two brothers: and when she was still small the Second World War started. She was sent down to Exeter to live with her Aunt Rose, my Grandmother's sister, and Grandad joined the marines again. My grandmother then worked in an ammunition factory while the two boys went to a Government nursery.

He must have been one of the first  drafts of troops to go to the Continent for I know he was involved in the Dunkirk evacuation.  He had collected some trinkets in France for my mother and had to leave most of them on the beach when trying to escape under a rain of Nazi bullets.  He did manage to wade out with his rifle and rucksack containing some rosaries and French coins with holes in.  I have them now after my mother passed them to me when she died.  He escaped safely but was returned to the Continent as a marine during the D Day landing of 1944.  He must have been very brave and I try to imagine what it was like for him and his colleagues during those times.



On the beach at Dunkirk

When he returned at the end of the war he wanted to spend more time with his re-united family so left his maritime life behind, but there was very little work for returning heroes. He got a job as a decorator attracting a company house which had a low rent and a secure tenancy,  and he and my grandmother lived in this house until their respective deaths. The job was not without its' own dangers as he once fell off the scaffolding when decorating the top of a stairwell and lost some of his fingers.

I first remember him when I was around two years old, standing high above me on the front door step holding out a beautiful black-haired doll in a grand box for me.   He died when I was eight because of stomach cancer and I was not allowed to go to the funeral. In the Navy they gave everyone a daily ration of rum (grog) which was very strong. He got addicted to this and carried on drinking it when he left. We think this caused his cancer. I remember standing close him when he was lying on his settee in his pyjamas, and he vomited blood into a bowl, which shocked and frightened me. He was very thin and had stopped eating. The last I saw of him was him lying in bed down the distant end of a hospital in London. Because I was a child they wouldn't let me in.  He waved feebly and I waved back and that was it. I never saw him alive again.

In the early '70's my friend and I played at holding our own seance one wet Saturday afternoon. I was very honest and didn't influence the pointer in any way, and my friend didn't know the person at all so she couldn't have been playing tricks, but when we asked “was anyone there?” and “who are you?” the pointer spelled out the name “Ted Pat”. I told my mother what had happened and she said that “Ted” was my grandfather's nick name, and that “Pat” was a shortened version of his surname.  Now – that is spooky. Was he really there for me; watching over me?

I am now much older but recently thought of him again. I was sailing on a high deck of a ferry between Southampton and West Cowes and had a wide, open view over the Solent.  The day was bright and blowy and the weather oscillated between vivid, blinding sunshine and dark purple rain clouds. The sea was choppy and blueish grey and I fell into a reverie thinking about him.

Suddenly a large, strongly coloured rainbow appeared next to the boat, rising from the sea on one side, arching right next to the boat and falling to the sea on the other side. I saw it in its' entirety, all the solid, definite colours of the spectrum floating in the sky, contrasting against the dark gunmetal grey of the clouds and framed by the brightness of the sun. Was he still spiritually with me and communicating with me?  I like to think so. Some other passengers got their cameras out, but I think my mind has taken its' own photo which I will remember forever.  In my world there is always a rainbow when someone dies if you look hard enough.   I think Grandad's rainbow came very late.