How the Humber Changed Our World

The general synopsis at midday. There are warnings of gales in the

forties, chronometer fourth. North- westerly backing south-westerly, 5-

7, decreasing for a time. The sea has always been a source of

our prosperity. For centuries it's provided jobs for fishermen,

dockers, labourers and thousands more. Now, as a new future beckons

in wind energy, this history of struggle, adventure and tragedy

reminds us How the Humber Changed Fish and chips had been a family

staple since the mid 1800s, but with the railways came opportunity,

Humber fishermen were perfectly placed to supply the growing

industrial cities of the North and Midlands.

For the first time it allowed quick, fast, cheap transport of fresh fish

inland. Overnight, almost, fish became an article of cheap mass

consumption. Virtually the fishing industry grew from that demand for

fish in the inland industrial areas. It grew first at Hull and then

Grimsby. Through the 1920s and 30s, business

boomed. Fishing became not just a job, but a way of life.

You see, I was born into the heart of the industry. All my friends,

relations, everyone I knew was surrounded by fish, fishing and the

trawling industry. It never entered me head to do

anything else. 1937, I went to sea with me granddad. I always remember

my granddad was pleased with what when on, so he called the lads up

and gave them a tot of rum. I was watching all this and he said to me,

"Do you want one, kid?" "Oh, please, granddad". I'm one of the lads, I

thought, like. It was a little tin mug with a little drop of rum in.

As I got it to my mouth, he hit it. Me mouth started to bleed, like. He

just bent down to me and he said, "Aboard this ship I am skipper, not

granddad". It was a lesson in hardship, just one of the many in

this cruellest of industries. I first sailed in 1945. I was a

sick as a dog. I went to sea for my first trip, I

was in the Navy. A week after my 16th birthday, I'll be quite honest,

out of the 14 days I must have been seasick for 12 days of them. But,

thankfully, that was the last time. # When the north winds roughly blow

and I lay right snug below. And I open the pane and they pop out the

flame, to see how the wind do blow The best fishing grounds were in

Arctic waters, but that inevitably meant freezing conditions.

And the ships appeared stranded as if marooned on a gently moving

sandbank. Sometimes your ears bled and your

nose. If you were gutting in a pound and you wanted, like, pass me

the steel to sharpen your gutting knife. It had frozen. It's really

hard. It was. Now and again skipper would give you a dram of rum to

It was at Bear Island, right. I slipped and it was Christmas Day.

It was about minus 40 and I slipped in the water and me boots was full.

They all come and look after you and look out for you, give you rum

with something in it to sort you out. That's what people are like at

sea. In a largely unregulated industry,

you had no choice but to rely on your shipmates.

Health and safety was none existent. The only health and safety you had

was yourself and your crew mates, as well. You had to rely on them

for your life, more or less. If they pulled on a wire when they

shouldn't have done, they could cripple you.

Rough, tough, wise and friendly. A father figure to the crew, they

will fight for a place on board his ship.

It was the skipper though, more than anyone, who felt the real

weight of responsibility. You have got to make decisions up

where lots of men in their working life ashore would never have to

make. You're under pressure to catch fish quickly. To return it to

the market place, fresh. So, when you have gales and storms and

fishing amongst the ice, you have very little time for saying, "stop

fishing." # Haul away the bowling. Kitty is me darling. Haul away the

bowling. Haul. #. Everyone depended on the catch

for their living. All at the mercy of fortune and the

weather, never knowing how much you'd earn once you got home.

I did three trips on one ship and I picked up tuppence. That's sixpence

for ten weeks. That's all. There was too much fish and they couldn't

sell it, you see. Another time you'd have a good trip it was all

right. You would work 18 hours a day for

14, 15 days at a time and it was tiring, it was hard work. But, I

was lucky most of the time and I earnt a lot of money. I spent a lot

at well, that was the only problem. I tended to spend more than I

earnt! # Brylcreem in your hair, three

time millionaire After weeks away at sea came just a

couple of days ashore. With wages to be spent, the trawlermen were

dubbed the three-day millionaires. # I shall get meself a suit made to

show I'm in the fishing trade. You had loads of cash, it was like

Christmas every time. You had something like two-and-a-half days

to spend your money and it was a race to make sure you spent it

before you went away. Very few fishermen sailed with any money.

Usually it was gone, so you tended to drink heavily. You were always

well-dressed, fishermen were always smart. You had the spare cash so

you'd go out and get a suit made. They was all handmade suits and you

tried to get your suit different from anyone else's. You know,

different material, different design, and all such as that. I had

25 suits and 18 pairs of shoes, I did. When I came home I used to go

dancing every night. I loved it. I loved music and I used to do myself

up and think, "Sod it". I've got to work, come home, don't go out,

don't drink, don't do anything. At the end of three weeks, say "right,

here's your three weeks money and you've got two days". You aren't

To go to church, are you? A lot Tying up at home port was also the

time for family reunions, but being the wife of a trawlerman brought

its own challenges. We've been married 57 and in our

58th year. If ever a woman could have left me, it was my wife. I

never kept her short of money. What you want, is there. Then I used to

go with the lads for a drink and we used to get legless. But, I've

never hit her. Never hit one of my kids. My kids have never heard me

swear. You were either a strong woman or

you wasn't. You had to be strong because you had to be mother and

father to your children. At the time when you're growing up

in a fisherman's family, you don't think, "I am growing up in a

fisherman's family, it's different". It was a different way of life, it

was an accepted way of life. My mother virtually brought us up,

there were seven in the family. My dad, the couple of days that he was

ashore, he wasn't home very much. He did a lot of pubbing and

clubbing and stuff like that. always say the industry itself at

sea was a rollercoaster existence, good weather, bad weather, lots of

fish, no fish. It was, to a certain extent to the families ashore, just

by virtue of looking after the family. My wife she was mother and

father to my two girls and it was the same all around.# Oh, you won't

Not all fishing jobs were at sea, there was plenty of work on shore

but conditions there weren't much better.

I was filleting on the fish dock at 14 and it was an awful, awful job.

When you think about it nowadays, if you were the youngest, you

filleted on the foreshore. When the snow and rain came it ran down your

neck and you just stood there, just Winter times was terrible, wet,

thick ice and it was running water all the time. You had to wear clogs

because you were in an inch of running water all the time.

You could always hear these It was probably the lumpers coming off the

docks, clogging down Freeman Street. You could hear them before you

could see them. It was like another life walking down onto the docks.

It was manic. It was absolutely manic.

The hustle and bustle of the fish docks was mirrored in the

development of the Humber's commercial docks.

In the early 20th century, Britain was the greatest maritime nation in

the world. Hull was its third port. You know, it was of global

significance in maritime terms and then there was Grimsby. Then you've

got the building of Immingham which opened just before the First World

War. In 1939, there were more than 5,000

registered dock workers on the Humber but this was an entirely

casual workforce without any guaranteed income.

Anybody could just go for a job on the docks. There was no

registration. It was like most jobs in those days, they picked you up

as they went along and you used to get paid, day by day. When there

was no more work, that was it. They didn't get any more pay and they

went on their way. In 1945, the National Dock Labour Board was

supposed to bring control to what had been an employment free for all,

but the dockers still vied each morning to get work. Everyone

fighting for a job. You would go into the control and

the foreman would come up onto the stand, and put their hands out for

the books and you'd be there putting your book up and people

were pushing and shoving. There used to be some right performances

in those days. If there was no work, they received

a fall-back wage of �9 a week. Few knew whether they'd make �9 or �20

in a week. When the men did get work they were

expected to do so without any safety equipment.

It was hard work, you was sweating and you cringed at times with the

pain but you couldn't stop. Like anything else men grew into it, but

like many men who come, couldn't hack it and just chucked the dock

They used to get lots of timber ships in, mostly from the Baltic,

of course. That's where the wood came from. They used to have guys

who carried the timber off the ship manually. It was hard work. They

used to walk down a gang plank and it used to sway. They carried huge

pieces of timber on their shoulders. It was really, really hard work.

Guys used to tell me they used to get their wives to pick splinters

out of their shoulders at night time. Not only was it hard work, it

was cruel work as well, really. You didn't have forklifts until the

back end of the sixties so everything was what we used to call

"hand-draulic", meaning you picked it up and carried it. I mean you

had many people with broken hands, fingers and limbs because stuff

used to move about. It wasn't secured.

Life expectancy for a docker was one of the shortest in the country

Sickness and injury were an occupational hazard, all treated by

the dock's nurse. They used to say, "Sister, can we

have some lotion because we've got a sulphur ship in". They didn't

have the goggles so they used to get sulphur in their eyes and were

red raw. I used to say, "right, just go off for ten minutes and

I'll have it really for you". I just brewed some tea and strained

it and it was their magic potion. It was like teabags on our eyes.

For those who didn't work on the docks, they were a source of

fascination. An ideal school trip for pupils at Hedon Primary School

We were there when a ship was in and it unloading and there were

lots of boats. It was just a hive of activity.

It was just when you see them lifting the timber up, it was just

a chain and that was it. The sack barrows they used and now it's all

forklifts. It's certainly changed. I would hate to think what it's

like now when you go on there. the 1960s, change was on its way.

Containers meant fewer men were needed but the dockers weren't

giving way without a fight. The docks had become one of the most

unionised workplaces in the country and relations with employers were

at rock bottom. We always fell out over money and

we always fell out over manning. They'd always need twice as many

men as they really could get on the ship and use. They'd only work half

a day, two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon. It was

always very frustrating for management and for customers, of

course. # You won't get me I'm part of the union

The National Dock Labour Board was the best thing that happened

because you had a job for life, you couldn't get the sack. You could

not get the sack for stealing and things like that but there wasn't a

right lot of cargo that was worth pinching. You don't go pinching

cement, you don't go pinching bricks.

It was a case of power to unions and that power was absolute.

We didn't even put a picket line out, that's how good it was.

Everybody was 100%. I'm not saying that everyone was agreeing with it,

but nobody went across that picket line.

Goole would be the last port to come out on strike. They would

usually send a couple of busloads of Hull dockers through to Goole to

intimidate. Of course, when the intimidation came, the guys came

out on strike. It all came to a head in 1972 when

the use of ports, that weren't part of the National Dock Labour Scheme,

sparked a national strike. The main fight was from the none

scheme ports. People thought we fighting because we were selfish,

fighting for our own jobs. We were not. We said, as far as we were

concerned, they should be on the same par as what we were.

You was met by mountains of police. They wanted confrontation because

they had their leather gloves on and they took their name numbers

off the thing so you couldn't identify the names. A few would

start braying the dockers and the dockers retaliated by braying the

police. The police came from all over the

country to defeat us. They didn't defeat us because Hull dockers was

incensed and insisting they was going to win The strike ended with

an uneasy truce and a sense there For the trawlermen, too, there were

hard times ahead It was the most dangerous occupation you could do.

It had the highest mortality rate of any industry in the world.

It seems hard to say that you took it in our stride because you didn't.

Quite often you'd lost friends. I was only in a ship only 30 miles

away when the Roderigo and the Lorella went. We listened to them

on the air, turning over. That's not very pleasant, but we still had

our job to do. Word has just been received that

the Grimsby trawler, Laforey, has been sighted. There are no reports

of the captain and the 19 men on board, at the time of the tragedy.

They are now all assumed to be lost at sea.

The winter, with its harsh storms, was always the worst.

It was Christmas Day when the St Finbarr was reported on fire, off

the coast of Labrador. It was the man from the Mission who

had the job of delivering the bad news to those waiting at home.

I knew with the knock. I said, "You don't have to tell me there's

something wrong". He said, "The ship's afire but they haven't got

news of who's lost and who's saved." I suppose in your heart you

wish that it's yours. Well, everyone must wish that but it

wasn't to be. Tony Harrison one of 12 men lost, leaving a widow just

19 years old. Then came a tragedy that shocked the whole country,

three Hull trawlers lost in as many weeks.

The first ship that went down, went down with all hands, The St Romanus.

So, of course, 21 men on board, 211 families not knowing for ten days!

- 21.They were going out of their minds with worry. The flags at Hull

flew at half mast for the men who would never return to port. By the

time the second ship had gone down, The Kingston Peridot, we were shell

shocked. "What's going on?" Another ship gone missing? All hands lost.

That was January '68, but there was no let-up in the following month.

More losses, more grieving families. To lose one ship and then two,

absolutely terrible. It paralysed Hull and Hessle Road. Then, of

course, the third ship which was my brother's ship on the 5th February.

The Ross Cleveland was overwhelmed in high seas and capsized taking

with it all the crew including a young Maurice Swain.

Maurice had come in that night before he was ready to sail. I

heard him say, "Has our Mike gone to bed?" Upstairs he came, up to

the top of the stairs and into the bedroom still with the light off.

He sat on the side of the bed and he said, "I know I haven't seen you

much this trip but when I come home I'll make it up to you". He never

came back. I didn't know what he meant by that, because he'd never

done it before, but I never forgot what he said there. I've always

Until now, deaths had always been an accepted part of fishing, but

not anymore. The mood was changing and it was the women who led the

way. There are women who live in fear of

losing their men. Suddenly, it became too much.

You may have heard of Big Lil, started by getting up out of her

armchair at home and going up and down the length of Hessle Road,

getting signatures in protest against the conditions in the

trawling industry. This was a misogynistic world. The women were

at home doing their bit in the kitchen and looking after the

children. They didn't go out and protest.

We need a safety ship patrolling the areas 24 hours a day.

Are you a fisherman's wife? I'm a fisherman's daughter who died at

sea, four years ago. My mother was widowed with six children.

The women did succeed in getting some new safety measures, most

notably making radio operators compulsory on all trawlers.

Whether anything else really significant changed, I don't think

it did. We did win a little bit, Indeed, this remained an industry

steeped in tradition, superstitious to the last.

I don't think they liked women on board, did they, Dave? No. I can't

really remember. If you were to say on a Monday, the

wife wasn't allowed to do any washing. They used to say, it's

washing them away. Green, you couldn't have green. You

couldn't have birds' feathers in the house. You couldn't walk under

a ladder. You couldn't say We still don't say it now and my mum's not

here, you couldn't say R-A-T. You couldn't say what it was.

You were never allowed to go down the dock and wave them away because

you were sending them and never come back. Also, you never went to

the front door with them. You never whistled on board ship,

that was one. Whistling up a storm, Superstitions though couldn't

protect the fishermen from what was about to come, a political storm

was brewing and they were at the heart if it.

I protest, on behalf of Her Majesty's government, against the

measures you're taking against these British trawlers.

Fishing nets were cut, ships were rammed as the third and final Cod

War escalated out of control. It got a bit rough between the

Icelandics and the English trawlers. There used to be a little bit of

argy-bargy and tried to push them out of the way. It got very heated

at times. I was fishing down at Iceland one time and a gun boat

captain got a bit irate at one of the Hull trawlers and he actually

shot at you. I had bullet holes in the bridge,

you could actually see them. We were all stood round in the morning,

the merchants, we were amazed. Iceland wanted to ban foreign

trawlers from her waters, but the fishermen were prepared to fight

back in any way they could. They gave us extra large bags of

pepper and you told to make pepper bombs to throw at the Icelandic gun

boats. Sometimes if you knew the gun boat

was coming up to you, we'd have sacks of spuds and pelted at them.

Or, have the hose pipes. The end came in 1976, the British

Government bowed to pressure and trawlers could no longer fish

within 200 miles of Iceland. One of the most important fishing grounds

was lost. The majority of fishermen would put

the blame on governments and politicians rather than the

Icelanders. By the 1980s, the fishing industry

was a shadow of its former self. Thousands of men redundant, victims

of the cod wars and EU fishing It died, it just faded away. There

was no ships and all the fishermen were more or less thrown onto the

scrap heap and then it was a It wasn't any easier for the

dockers. By the mid-80s there were fewer than 2,000 working on the

Humber. Just two decades earlier, it had been three times that and

the employers wanted more cuts. It was like a war of attrition all

of the time. There was never a peaceful period. We was a bit

frightened of containerisation because where before you'd had a

lot of men discharging it, four men could just hang a container on.

We was in negotiations all the time with the employers about reducing

manning levels but we weren't quick enough for them. Where they'd want

two or three men, we'd say reduce it by one.

The dockers had earnt a reputation for militancy and that made them a

target for the Tory government, which wanted modernisation.

This scheme is out of date, there's no question about that.

In 1989, employment secretary Norman Fowler called time on the

National Dock Labour scheme. The time has come for it to be

abolished. This scheme has outlived its purpose.

Nobody was surprised when this move by the government led to industrial

action. To me, as a docker the '60s, it was

a backward step. The abolition of the dock scheme was the worst that

had happened to Goole So you had the unions banging the drums but

you'd got this feeling it wasn't the same as it was before in '72

,the atmosphere wasn't there. The actual fight wasn't there. Hull

dockers are not working, but the smaller port of Goole is. The

picture at Immingham and Grimsby is even more confused.

Without universal support across all the docks, the fight was lost.

For some, the return to work prompted celebrations. All dockers

were to be compensated for the end of the labour scheme. In Goole, as

in every registered port, they collected cheques of up to �35,000.

It signalled the end of the unions. I think it was good for all of us

and it was a big change come the '90s and I was very, very pleased

to be then running a port that I could manage.

It's like a ghost town, you wouldn't think anybody worked there.

You see the odd person walking around with his safety helmet on

but you don't see any traffic. There use to be timber everywhere,

stacked up and containers all over the place.

The last hundred years has seen huge changes on the Humber, fewer

ships and fewer workers, but it's still the country's biggest port

complex. Now the 21st century offers the promise of so much more.

What's always intriguing to notice about this river, it's a very

adaptable river. People change from one commodity to another. We've

been involved with oil in the 20th century and, of course, more

recently we've got the involvement with wind farms. So, energy and

adaptability goes back a long way within this estuary.

It was like walking into another life, walking down onto the docks.

It's sad now that it's all gone. It's all gone.

I miss the old times, it was a way of life. Now it's a factory,

conveyor belt system, in my opinion. The docks were gold, without any

doubt. The dockers had the money and the dockers spent it.

The raggy trousers of a Hessle Road kid. Lack of education, and would

finally get skipper of a ship. Most blokes went to sea. Not for

the money, it was a way of life and they enjoyed it. They got away from

their wife and kids for three weeks, no moaning. They didn't have to