GETTING MARRIED AND TRAINING FOR A NEW JOB

This was the year I had been waiting for, the reason why I joined up. After having another good annual assessment I decided this was the year I was going to make the application to become an Air Steward. It was also the year I married Jane, so quite a year to remember.

Jane and I were married just outside Shrewsbury in the village of Ford. I had previously said in my optimism that it was unlikely there would be snow, but of course the weatherman had other ideas. My immediate family came up from Windsor and booked into a hotel in the town centre, and I joined them for my last night as a single man. As we were turning in for the night, the heavens opened and overnight several inches of snow fell to cover the country in snow. In more exposed areas it drifted in the high winds that followed. It turned out that several of the guests were unable to travel as the roads were blocked.

We were not going to let a bit of snow to stop the wedding and we gave ourselves plenty of time to get to the church. My brother, who was my Best Man, found a local farmer who had a snow plough on his tractor and paid him £20 to clear the road to the church so that the wedding car could climb the small rise to the entrance. With that taken care of we waited inside for the bride and her father to arrive. The service went ahead and there were enough people present to have witnesses. The Bridesmaids had suitable dresses which gave some protection from the cold, and Jane's dress had long sleeves but she still needed a thick coat to keep her warm. 

Afterwards we drove to the nearby village of Alberbury where we had the reception in the village hall.

 DRIVING TO THE RECEPTION

 The next thing was to spend our first night as a married couple so we had booked into the Long Mynd Hotel in Church Stretton. Due to the excessive snow the, hotel was also cut off as it was on the side of the hill. We phoned them up and told them we wouldn't be able to get there. We then phoned around the local hotels in Shrewsbury to find a room. We eventually found one and booked in. When we got there later that evening we went to our room and found it almost as cold as outside. We got into bed and huddled up close to keep warm.

What a way to start married life, still we had the Honeymoon to look forward. We had booked into a hotel in Kandersteg, to do a bit more skiing, but we were also going to do some site seeing around Switzerland during our week long holiday. But first the small matter of getting to Heathrow Airport. We had planned to drive down the M5 to Worcester then go cross country to join the M40 at Oxford. ( the M40 at that time only went to Oxford ). That plan went out of the window with all the snow. The route over the Cotswolds was closed which ever way you went. This meant we would have to drive down the M5 to Bristol then join the M4 to drive to Windsor where we would leave the car at my parents before taking a taxi to the airport.

We eventually got to my parent's home and after a night there made our way to Heathrow by taxi and checked in. The flight to Zurich was uneventful, but on landing we noticed that there was more snow in England than in Switzerland, which fortunately only lasted a day, after which the snow the UK had recently arrived and dumped several feet of the white stuff overnight.

We took the train from the airport station and eventually arrived at our honeymoon destination, with a short taxi ride took us to our hotel, which would be our home for the next ten days.

Our Hotel for the week

Although we did have a day on the slopes we spent most of the time sight seeing around the small Alpine nation. As I mentioned previously the Swiss railways are noted for their punctuality, but also most towns can be reached by rail. We also ventured into Kandersteg village to enjoy the scenery and buy souvenirs from the local gift shops.

When the sun came out the views were spectacular and certainly made the visit a pleasure, even at minus 20.

The little church beneath the mountains

 

Typical Swiss Chalets in the snow

 We arrived at our destination on the 11th of February, which was just in time for Valentines Day three days later.

Valentines in bed

 We got to celebrate several events while on our honeymoon, so as well as Valentines, we had Jane's birthday, and Pancake day. In Switzerland they don't do the pancakes, but call it Mardi Gras and hold processions similar to New Orleans or Rio in Brazil. The difference is that everyone is wrapped up against the cold, but they dress up in fancy costumes, which are often with grotesque masks and have loud marching drum bands walking through the streets. We came across one of these parades while we were sight seeing in Lucerne.

While in Lucerne we also came across a view of a famous wooden bridge across the river,

The Kapellbrücke (literally, Chapel Bridge) is a covered wooden footbridge spanning the river Reuss diagonally in the city of Lucerne in central Switzerland. Named after the nearby St. Peter's Chapel. The bridge is unique in containing a number of interior paintings dating back to the 17th century, although many of them were destroyed along with a larger part of the centuries-old bridge in a 1993 fire. Subsequently restored, the Kapellbrücke is the oldest wooden covered bridge in Europe, as well as the world's oldest surviving truss bridge. It serves as the city's symbol and as one of Switzerland's main tourist attractions.

Another day out involved a visit to the summit of the Jungfraujoch, one of Switzerland's highest peaks if not Europe's. We boarded the train which slowly climbed up the slopes before entering a tunnel that took us to the highest railway station in Europe (At 3,454 metres (11,332 ft) above sea level)

After a slow climb that included a stop at an intermediate station where we got off to walk to a viewing window cut into the side of the mountain. The Jungfrau Railway runs from Kleine Scheidegg in the Bernese Oberland, through the Jungfrau Tunnel (inside the Eiger and Mönch) finally terminating at the summit. After walking along a tunnel we came out side to look at the view and see the observatory .The Sphinx Observatory, one of the highest astronomical observatories in the world, provides an additional viewing platform at a height of 3,572 metres (11,719 ft), the second-highest in Switzerland. It can be reached by an elevator from the Jungfraujoch.

All good things come to an end and we flew back to London where we collected our car at my parents and drove back home in Truro to settle into the hum drum of married life. Jane went back to her job at Treliske Hospital and I returned to Portreath and the Combined Mess.

About a month later I put in my application for Air Steward duties. And after a week or so I was ordered to attend the formal interview at RAF Brize Norton  at the Head Quarters of 241 OCU, ( the unit that trained all the crews for the flying at the Oxfordshire Airbase).

After the formal interview in front of the board of officers where I explained why I wanted to do the job and they explained some of the detail of the work involved, the candidates were given an opportunity to go on a local flight on a VC10. We were taken to the airside in a bus and made our way up the steps onto the awaiting aircraft. 

We were directed to the seats and by the cabin crew and given the preflight safety briefing ( something I would be doing myself in a few months time). After a short taxi we took off and then flew around the Oxfordshire skies doing circuits and bumps, while the flight deck crew carried out various exercises to remain current. We down the back found the flying bumpy at low level and several people ( including me) started to feel a bit sick. I had just started to tuck into the snack box they had given us for our meal. I suddenly felt the urge to be sick, so I left my seat and quickly walked to the toilet, where I filled a sick bag that I took with me.

On returning to my seat, I noticed that some bugger had nicked my lunch box. Obviously the 5 second rule applied here too, ( leave something for more than 5 seconds and it will be removed to a safer place (some one else's bag) .

Circuits and Bumps at Brize

 Fortunately this bout of being airsick didn't put me off flying and I finished the day even more determined this was the job I wanted to do. I returned to Portreath and waited a couple of weeks and then I was overjoyed when I received my joining instructions to attend the OCU to start my Air Steward course.

Next time I will talk about the course and what happened next

Rob

WAS 1984 REALLY THAT BAD ?

 Hello again readers.  

To me the year was one I will never forget. Firstly the romance side of my life was eventually going into overdrive. Work was good and I was getting great annual assessments, which were great for my plans for my future career. Because of my new romance, some of my outside activities began to reduce, so my involvement with the Life Saving ended, which was mainly due to the fact I moved out of the Barracks at St. Mawgan and initially moved into a house share in Camborne, which was closer to work. Jane had found a job at Treliske Hospital in Truro so I was seeing her a lot when I wasn't at work. 

At Easter, my mate Tony got married, and that weekend I proposed to Jane, and she accepted. Eventually we found a place near Truro to rent, and we moved in together. The property was a bit unusual as it was part of a farm. The landlord lived in the main house, and there were a couple of apartments adjacent to the house. He had initially had them made as holiday lets, but found it easier to rent long term. The choice of animals he farmed was also not what you might expect for Cornwall. No fields of cows or sheep. Rather several barns of pigs !

Our mornings were usually woken by the sound of pigs getting excited when the pigman brought the food around. It was quite noisy and sometimes the din was made louder when the farm hand started shouting and cursing at them when they were being naughty.

As I was becoming domesticated I had to  get used to having my holidays in the summer, and so we went off on a touring holiday of South Wales and Pembrokeshire. We took our own accommodation in the form of a tent and camping gear. The weather was perfect for this trip and the drive up from Cornwall was great. No delays on the A30 or the M5. Those were the days before the major delays that happen currently.

We camped for one night near to the Brecon Beacons park, but then made our way to St, David's in Pembrokeshire

This part of Wales (as is most of the country) is very beautiful and there was so many places to visit and  to explore. We had plenty of opportunities to hike, especially along the coastal paths. The city of St, David's is the smallest in the country and in most  places would be considered a village. The main attraction is St. David's Cathedral which draws in many visitors every year.

We ventured a bit further away one day and drove to the other side of St. Brides Bay in order to catch the ferry to Skomer Island. Skomer is a national nature reserve, home to many wild seabirds, including Guillemots, Gulls, and of course the fabulous Puffins, which nest there during breeding season.

 
Apart from an old farm building used by naturalists during study periods, the island is uninhabited. The daily boat trips drop people off to spend the day following the footpaths around the island then takes them back later on.

We spent the rest of the year going about our daily lives as everyone else does, basically getting on with life and going to work. We started to make plans about our wedding the following year. We decided we wanted to have the big day in February, as not many people tie the knot then, so we could  pick which ever weekend we wanted and the decision was made that our honeymoon would be in Switzerland to take in a bit of skiing. Jane did say that we might have a problem with snow in February, although optimistic me said we probably wouldn't. (Famous last words - more about that later). As Jane was from Shropshire, that's where we would be holding the service. We had to visit her home to arrange the bans to be read in the church, as we did for my home church in Old Windsor.

We spent Christmas Day in Truro and drove to Newquay to say we had been to the seaside . It was a dull overcast day and freezing cold. The sort of day when you need to wear a duffle coat or parker to keep out the cold. The next day we began an epic roundtrip journey. We drove 300 miles up to my parents house to deliver presents and see my family. After spending a day there, we set off again to see her father in Shropshire. Again another long day driving, although only half the distance of the previous day. Again we spent a day with her dad then set off finally to get back to Cornwall. We were shattered when we got back and spend a day recovering, before Jane had to get back to work. I, being in the RAF, still had a couple of days before I returned to work.

As we were both off on New Year's Day we drove down to the Lizard Point and on finding a small shop open, had our first ice cream of the year, at the most southerly point in the UK.

So that in a nut-shell was 1984. The following year was going to have several changes to our lives which meant moving away from the county and starting a new job, but I will talk about that next time.

All the best 

Rob

How I found skiing and a wife.

 Hello folks welcome back to my tale.

Back in the 1970s I used to watch Ski Sunday most weeks and marvel at the speed the skiers went when travelling down the mountain slopes. Coming from a country that rarely had enough snow and from the southeast of England where there were no decent hills, let alone mountains it was just a dream for me to even think about learning to ski.

Once I was committed to enlisting in 1982, I decided that I would resign from my job at Marks and Spencer a couple of weeks before my attesting (at Reading Careers Office) and go to Switzerland to learn the art of skiing down hill. I asked my younger brother if he would like to join me, and he readily agreed. As I previously mentioned my father was a long time employee of British Airways, and one of the perks of working so long ( he started in 1941 during WW2) was that he accrued a number of free staff flights, which his family could also use. The scheme acted like stand-by passengers, so we had to wait in the terminal until the staff knew that there were unsold seats available. We were lucky and managed to get seats on the flight from Heathrow to Zurich.

My brother, Andy, and I bought some basic skiing clothes from our local branch of C & A ( remember them?), and decided that we would hire the rest of the gear ( boots and skis) at the resort. As we were both in the Scout Movement at the time we were going to stay in Switzerland as cheap as we could, and were making our way to the International Scout Centre in Kandersteg in the Bernese Oberland part of the Swiss Alps. We were going to stay in bunkhouse accommodation, and we would help with certain tasks each day (cooking, serving food and a little bit of cleaning), before and after the day on the slopes. It was run on a similar way to a youth hostel.

 

The International Scout Centre Chalet at Kandersteg

The Centre was at the end of the Kander Valley and we arrived by train all the way from Zurich Airport, with a change at  Bern, which is the capital of the Bern Canton. Swiss Railways pride themselves on the punctuality of their trains and we weren't disappointed on our spectacular journey. After leaving Bern, the journey took us to Interlaken which lies between Thunersee and Brienzersee lakes. ( The name of the town describes the location). The train then started a slow climb up to the village passing through several tunnels and looping around to make the climb possible.

The small, traditional Swiss village of Kandersteg is situated at 1'200 metres above sea level, 65 kilometres south of Bern. It is easily reached by road and rail and provides an excellent base for sightseeing or exploring the Alps.

Situated on the main railway line from Benelux/Scandinavia/Germany to Italy, Kandersteg is very well served by fast trains. During the high seasons, a regular bus ran from the local railway station to the Centre.

We enrolled at the local ski school after renting our equipment. I found it harder to stay upright than I thought it was going to be, and in fact Andy was doing much better than me. We were only on the nursery slopes and were learning very basic stuff, like Snowplow turn, and how to stop. We were taken up to one of the slightly harder slopes to practice our new found skills. I was petrified at first as I kept falling over every time I wanted to slow down and change direction.

A fine view of the village while riding the chairlift to the higher ski area

At the end of our week, I felt I hadn't progressed as much as I wanted to but I had better things to do in a few days time, starting my new job and life.

After being posted to Cornwall I didn't feel the need to have a summer holiday, after all  where do loads of people go for their summer holiday ? I rest my case !!! Having said that in the service we were allowed 30 days annual leave, so I had to take it at some point, so I decided I would go away in January when everyone else was back at work after the Christmas festivities. Apart from going to the antipodes for more sun shine, the best holiday would be to go skiing again, and as I had tried it the previous year and enjoyed staying at the Scout Centre I looked into what Kandersteg had to offer. 

I found out that they had a special deal which included accommodation, and two weeks of ski instruction. As I was still a Scout Leader I was still eligible to attend through membership and of course I still had to factor in the cost, which I found was still affordable to me, so I went ahead and booked the holiday.

I duly arrived in Switzerland in the second week of January and booked into the centre. Also present on the course were about a dozen other scouters from around Europe. I remember there were a pair of twins from Finland and a few from Britain, with a sprinkling from Germany. We all mucked in with cooking meals and clearing up afterwards and being scout leaders were happy to entertain ourselves. Someone had a guitar so we sang quite a few songs around the wood burning stove.

I was glad I returned to to Kandersteg and found the instruction was much better than the previous visit. We had to demonstrate to our teacher what we could already do so that he could put us into different groups according to ability. This was a good move and I found I was able to quickly build on my skills learned the previous time, and then improve on them.

Not quite Olympic standard but I'm still upright

I was soon able to do a parallel turns, and to stop much quicker without falling over. Our instructor got us to the stage of being able to ski from the top of the ski area and back down to the village. I was getting used to riding the ski chairlift, when we were told that the next day we would be going to a different ski area at a different part of the resort. We would be going up to the area in a cable car, which was just down the road from the chalet.

The ride to the Sunnbuel ski area took about ten minutes and once we had arrived at the top we then took a chairlift to the skiing area. It was a large open area which had plenty of scope to have further practice away from the crowds in the previous areawe had been learning. We had a period of instruction, then we were left to practice on our own, so we could come and go at our own pace.

   

As this was a fairly easy area to practice on, once our instructor felt we were confident enough and able to, he introduced us to the more difficult run which went directly to the village. I found this very challenging in a number of places, but completed it without falling down or breaking any bones.

Another aspect of skiing holidays I enjoyed was the mountain restaurants we visited at lunch time. 

I particularly enjoyed eating a hearty bowl of hot Goulash Soup with loads of freshly baked bread and a glass of local beer. Even though it was the middle of winter, the more southerly latitude and altitude made it feel warm enough to sit outside on the balcony to eat our meal.   

I thoroughly enjoyed my winter break and returned to Portreath refreshed and ready to crack on with whatever the RAF put my way. So for now thoughts of skiing were put on the back burner for another year, but I definitely wanted to return the following year to improve my style.

After the summer of 1983 had passed and the holiday makers had returned home for the season, I started thinking about planning my forth coming visit to the slopes. I went into the office and asked Sgt Clarke if I would be able to take time off in January to have another trip to Switzerland. Unfortunately I was in for disappointing answer. Unknown to me Jack Small, the civvy steward had already booked the first three weeks of January so that he could visit his sister, who lived in the Dutch West Indies island of Aruba.

The course I wished to attend was held at the same time, so I had make new plans about a skiing holiday. In those days we had no option but to go to a travel agent and get a brochure. That was exactly what I did the following weekend, going into Newquay to get a pile of brochures.

I took them back to my room at St. Mawgan and started thumbing through the pages, to see what was on offer. I soon realised that what I wanted was a holiday that was suitable for young single people. This whittled my search down to one company, which I had heard of, but not for organising winter skiing holidays. Their summer vacations had gained a bit of a reputation a rather hedonistic activity for young adults on hot summer get-aways.

You've guessed it CLUB 18 - 30 !

They had a holiday in the first week of February in the Austrian resort of Seefeld which was in the Tyrol. It had hosted the Nordic Cross country and Biathlon events in the 1976 Winter Olympic games. After checking again at work that I could take the time off then, I went ahead  and booked my holiday and paid the deposit. I also paid another visit to C & A and bought a new ski jacket, salopettes, and ski gloves. I found out there was a ski exhibition in London, so I drove up one weekend staying with my parents one night, then taking the train to London. In the exhibition hall at Olympia I found a stall selling cheap equipment, and there I found some ski-boots going for a bargain, so I had to buy them. This meant all that I had to get at the resort would be skis and poles and the passes for the lifts.

The holiday soon arrived and I made my way to my parents to leave my car, before taking a train to Gatwick Airport and after boarding the Dan-Air BAC 1-11 settled down for the short flight to Munich in Germany, which was the closest airport to the resort. We boarded the transfer bus which took us over the border into Austria and then to the hotel in Seefeld.

I must point out that this holiday was nothing like the holidays held in the Mediterranean during the summer. For a start it was too cold to run around with little clothing, and of course everyone was there to ski or learn to ski. They did get the clients to meet up in one of the hotels each evening to enjoy bar games, but that was the limit of the fun part of the vacation. 

The next day we headed for the ski slopes. I decided that I would have a couple of lessons to brush up my skills after a year away from the slopes. Off I went, and soon enough I picked up from where I left off the previous season. In the group was a young woman who was struggling to get a hang of this skiing lark, and I felt sorry for her, so after the formal lessons had finished I skied over to her and asked her if she would like some help. On further enquiry I found out her name was Jane and she lived in Shrewsbury with her widowed father and worked as a staff nurse. We hit it off straight away and so we began our holiday romance. Jane was also on the 18-30 Holiday but was staying at a different hotel to me. When the evening bar games finished I would walk her to the taxi rank so she could get back to her accommodation. 

Unfortunately the week went too fast and we had to make our way back to home in Britain. We boarded the coach to return to Munich Airport, only this time I had somebody to sit next to for the journey. We arrived at the airport and checked our baggage in, only we were on different flights. I was returning to Gatwick, but Jane was on the flight to Manchester Airport.

We had a last hug and a kiss after going through security, and waved goodbye to each other as we went through our individual gates. Jane's flight left first and I watched it taxi away and take off.

I  boarded my airplane and set off back to England, but all the way I was only thinking of one thing, the person I had just said goodbye to. 

When I got home I still had another week before I returned to Cornwall so I spent some of the time meeting up with my mates and going to the pub. But all the time I was thinking about Jane, and so one day I sat down at home and got out some writing paper and a pen. ( remember writing)? Before we parted company at Munich Airport we had swapped addresses so I knew where I was going to send my note.

I'm not going to bore you with details of what I wrote but all I will say is, in Shropshire a similar letter was being penned addressed to me!

Next time I will talk about what happened next !

See you then,

Rob 

 

What is this place called work?

 Hi again !

I've thought about this and did you know I actually did go into work most of the time? The routine until I moved off camp in 1984 was to get up, have breakfast in the mess then get down to the carpark before the bus left for Portreath. Once I had got my car, I wasn't too worried about missing the bus as I had my own backup transport available, and besides it was nice to have a chat on the bus while somebody else did the driving. It was also a sensible thing to do if you had had too much to drink the night before.  

The bus drove from the camp via the married quarters at St. Columb Minor ( just out side Newquay) and at Trellogan ( on the other side of the town), then set off to Portreath along the winding road that seemed to go on forever.

Once the bus got to camp, it drove up to the Ops building, where the controllers worked and also the location of the communication centre ( Commcen) which housed the small base telephone exchange. There was a crew room with TV and some armchairs, where the off duty control staff would head for a break. It also had a mini kitchen with a kettle and microwave oven.

Although the mess was only open form 9 to 5 each day, the station was open 24 hours seven days a week. The controllers and support staff were rostered for shifts, which included night shift. This meant that the mess also prepared plated meals and snacks for the shift workers to be heated up in the microwave when they wanted to eat them during the night. When the bus pulled up outside the building either I or another staff member from the mess would collect the dirty crockery and food containers to be taken back to the kitchen washup machine to be cleaned.

The routine for going home usually meant we would take down a big bread basket with that evening's meals and drink requirements. We would wait in the crew room with the day shift for the bus to arrive. Usually the tv was on, and a new program started on the recently started Channel 4 which kept loads of people captivated by the female co-host, Carol Vordeman ! 

The original hosts of Count Down, Richard Whiteley & Carol Vordeman

Back in the mess we still had a turn over of staff, but mainly in the chefs department. The first to go was Mick Vincent, who was replaced by an older corporal called Bob Smith. With his arrival the mess was full of Bobs ! 

 Cpl Smith was from Northern Ireland and had been in the RAF quite along time. He told us that he joined up as a butcher, but when that trade had been disbanded he remustered as a chef. Bob was quite a laid back chap and didn't get flustered. One day he announced that he was going to learn to play the guitar and so he brought a wooden acoustic  guitar in to work. After the meal service had finished Bob would go into his office and practice playing. Sometimes he left the door open and we could listen to him learning his cords. If he felt he almost had a tune, he would call one of us in, to see if we could tell what he was playing. As usual in the RAF micky taking was going to happen, and Bob's shoulders were big enough to let it slip away without hurt feelings. Comments like " is that Beethoven's 5th"? or " Didn't the Beetles play that"? I took it one stage further one day. Bob was in his office and I went down to clear away the cups in the Officers' anteroom. There was a telephone in the room, so I rang the kitchen office, knowing that Bob was in there practicing. Anyone that knows me will know that I was quite good at mimicry so when Bob answered his phone, I greeted him him using the Catering Officer's voice. Fortunately Bob fell for it. I asked him if he was still enjoying his posting at Portreath and then I said in a stern voice that I had heard he was practicing the guitar in his office during lunch service and leaving the work to the SACs. Bob went a bit quiet then I asked him how he got on with the stewards and SAC Wyatt particularly. It was at this point that he smelled a rat and finally twigged it was me. " Bob you ***** " he said then he went on " You got me there you ***** " !!! 

I went back to the kitchen howling with laughter and when I saw Bob and we had a chuckle together.

Not long after, Bobby went, to be replaced by Ian McKellen a young lad who was about to get married. After a while he started a part time business with his wife while he was still serving. They rented out the restaurant of one of Newquay's hotels and ran it as their own business. As it was out of season, I don't think they would have had many customers and the venture didn't last very long.

When John Davis went his position was filled by one of the civvy mess hands. Mel Walker had previously worked as a chef, so he was offered the job of civilian chef. He was a very cheerful northerner who was always full of humour. Mel was also happy to work most weekends so that the RAF lads could have the weekends off.

After Sgt Clarke had been in post for about a year he was given several months notice that he would be going on detachment to RAF Stanley in the Falkland Islands. This obviously meant there would be no Mess Manager NCO in the mess for four months, the powers that be decided to post in a corporal and disestablish one of the SACs on the return of the Sgt. Now Tina had a theory that as I had been there longest, I would be going back to St. Mawgan. She was adamant that she would be staying at Portreath, and took great pleasure in telling every one who would listen about what she wished to happen.

Unfortunately for Tina, she went back to St. Mawgan, and I stayed at Portreath. We also had a new station commander, Sqn Ldr Rimmer. He was living in a rented Farmhouse near to Camborne and after looking into his entitlement decided that as Station Commander he would like a steward to work in his home for dinner parties and to help his wife keep house. The rules dictated that due to his rank he could only have a few hours per week so Jack Small was asked if he would work in the residence for three days of the week, with the remaining days back in the mess. Jack was happy with this arrangement as it meant he didn't have so far to travel to get to work. I was happy as it meant I could continue my extra work activities.

The new corporal was another Bob ! Bob Shepperd and a very nice guy at that. So Sgt Clarke went off on his detachment, where he lived and worked in the coastels that were leased by the MOD while permanent accommodation was made at the new airfield, 30 miles away at Mount Pleasant.

A very war like looking Taff Clark in the Falklands

We seemed to have a high turn over of chefs in the three years I was at Portreath. Bob Smith was replaced by a Cpl called John Edwards. He was a tall chap with a tash, and the micky takers often referred to him as Basil Fawlty. Ian McKellen was replaced by a guy called Nigel Diggle. Nigel was from Jersey, and when ever he went on leave it was usually back home to the island. He drove a large motorbike which had Jersey Plates. Being a Jersey vehicle meant that as long as it returned to the island regularly it was taxed and insured there, which was a lot cheaper than on mainland UK.

Nigel was then replaced by Billy Sneddon who came in from Germany. He was married, but going through a divorce. Portreath was also his last tour, so he didn't stay in post very long. Finally a fairly local chef turned up. ( local as in west country) Pat Rossiter was from Torquay in South Devon so he didn't have too far to go to visit his family.

As I mentioned before when I was first at St. Mawgan, I got pally with Paul Gibbons as we went to visit airshows in his car. At the same time I became mates with some of the guys at Portreath. One was a clerk on the camp who arrived not long after me. Tony Preston was from Stroud in Gloucestershire and we became good mates. Outside the holiday season the pubs and clubs in Newquay were back to having locals, and RAF people as their main customers.

On a Friday night the routine started of sharing a taxi to Newquay and going to one of several pubs in the town centre for a few beers. When we had drunk enough in the pubs, a group of us would spill out onto the street, and walk down to the Tall Trees Night club.

The club had separate bars and dance floors over three levels. Us young single blokes only had one thing on our mind when we walked into the venue, and it wasn't about trying our dance moves on the floor. No, we were there to chat up the young women and see if we could pull. In my case it was a very frustrating time, as I neither danced with or pulled any young ladies present. Tony on the other hand was a dab hand at this skill. He eventually managed to go out  with one young lady and in 1984 he got married to her.

Tony had a very understanding boss at work who would volunteer him for all sorts of activities. Not content with having to work his own job, Monday to Friday, on one occasion he was tasked with doing crowd control at the RAF St. Mawgan Air Show.

Tony posing in front of a Buccaneer bomber at St. Mawgan

Tony had the last laugh though, as he went on to serve 38 years in the RAF retiring in the rank of Squadron Leader, having worked his way up through the ranks to Warrant Officer, before taking a commission.

Tony on his Retirement in 2020

I got invited to a number of weddings of service personnel at Portreath. We had a MT driver called Andy Mecklenburgh who was going out with a young female driver who worked mainly at St. Mawgan. A load of us went to their wedding, which was held just outside Gloucester. We all left early on the Saturday, for the drive up, then stayed in Bed and Breakfasts after the reception. 

After they had returned from their honeymoon, they settled into married life. As I've mentioned before my usual work week was Monday to Friday, but two years into my tour of duty we had our annual AOC inspection, so in order to make sure the mess was in a clean state we were required to work on the Sunday to do extra cleaning and polishing etc.

I was in " Scruff order" in other words scruffy civvy clothing, as we didn't want to get my uniforms dirty. Anyway, after the chefs had served lunch to the airmen on duty, we carried on cleaning. Suddenly we heard a loud moaning noise coming from the staff toilet. On investigation, I found the mess hand, called Malcolm lying on the floor having a fit. I put him in the recovery position and called the other staff for some assistance. As we were a military unit we were fairly well self contained. So instead of calling 999, we called the station phone exchange, who called the MT section, as they had a field ambulance there. Like most other sections the MT drivers were also getting their area and vehicles cleaned. 

Andy was on duty and wearing his boiler suit for cleaning the vehicles. He dropped his cloths and jumped into the Landrover ambulance and drove as fast as he could to the mess. Unfortunately there wasn't a medic on duty, so Sgt Clarke decided that one of the chefs and I should take Malcolm in the ambulance and drive to Treliske Hospital in Truro. So there was Andy in his boiler suit driving, Ian the chef in his cooks whites, and me in scruffy jeans and T-shirt in the back of the ambulance. Sgt Clarke phoned up A & E and told them to expect a military ambulance with a patient.

A RAF Ambulance similar to the one at Portreath

We got Malcolm onto the stretcher and secured it into the back of the ambulance then set off to Treliske Hospital. Ian and I sat in the back keeping an eye on the patient. Fortunately he was breathing normally but was still a bit delirious. Andy drove as fast as he could. We had a blue light flashing away ( not very obvious in broad daylight), and a rather pathetic siren sounding away. We got to a straight bit of road and tried to go a bit faster, but low and behold got stuck behind a little old lady driving a Morris Minor ( seriously). We became typical back seat drivers, shouting all sorts of insults at the lady, who of course couldn't hear any of the words aimed at her.

Fortunately we managed to overtake her and eventually arrived at A & E . We dashed in and asked for a trolley to take Malcolm into the building, which was found along with a nurse. After booking him into the hospital the medical staff took over and looked after our colleague.

It turned out that unknown to us he was diabetic and hadn't been taking his medication correctly. After he was stabilized he was discharged and went home. Apparently his GP gave him a telling off and ensured he had a revised medication regime to help him take them at the correct time.

Another wedding we were invited to was in Newquay (so not so far to drive). A Junior Technician called Steve was marrying a local lass and some of us were invited to the reception afterwards. Everything started as normal and we enjoyed the sit down meal. Then it was time for the speeches, which is when the event started to go down hill big time.

Steve's brother was best man, and was a rating in the Royal Navy. Both Steve and his brother were in No.1 uniform and Steve also wore white belt and gloves. So his brother started the toasts, but because he had had a few too many drinks beforehand  started to make some very rude and crude remarks about some of the female guests present. As you imagine all hell broke out, so we decided to make a hasty retreat and left at the earliest opportunity.

All this talk of love and romance didn't pass me by but I will spill the beans in my next post when I will also tell you about another sport that I enjoyed.

Until then, see you soon.

Rob  

HEAD FOR HILLS

 Hello again.

When I started at secondary school in 1970, ( am I that old), the headmaster was an advocate of encouraging the pupils to enjoy the outdoor life and appreciate the wild places in our small country. We had a lesson called "Outdoor Pursuits" where we learned about the National Parks, their geography, geology and history. We also learned how to read an Ordinance Survey map as part of the lesson. All this was manna from heaven to me and I really excelled at it. So much so that and the end of the year I was placed top of the class in the subject.  The lessons lead up to the annual expedition to a National Park, where we went on the school bus ( a retired 1950s Thames Valley Bus) and stayed in Youth Hostels, whilst going out to practice our map reading and enjoying the countryside and hills.

The kids in the first year ( school years have changed since I was in education) went spring half term break to stay at the Edale Youth Hostel in the Derbyshire Peak District. We got to hike over the Kinder Scout Plateau, and up Mam Tor.

The lonely expanses of the Kinder Scout moors

Mam Tor looms over the Hope Valley

If any one watches Channel 4 they sometimes run a channel identifier with a giant " 4 " figure climbing to the top of a hill then sounding off like a Fog Horn and the village people falling over, well that is Mam Tor.

As we went through the school years the expeditions became a bit harder. We still stayed in Youth Hostels, but the destinations differed each year. The second year went to The Yorkshire Dales, and years three and four alternated between the Lake District and Snowdonia. 

The fifth year didn't have an expedition, as they were studying for CSE and O Level Exams, but what did happen was a summer holiday Exped to Europe. Some years they went to Norway and another year they went to Corsica. I left school in 1976 aged 17 after taking O Levels and my final school activity was to go on the Summer expedition to the French Pyrenees and the Atlantic coast near to La Rochelle.

The Pyrenees Summer Expedition camp site at Argeles Gazost

I also did a bit of hiking when I was a Scout, when we went on our summer camps but it was nothing as challenging as the school expeditions.

Roll on to 1982 and there I was at RAF Portreath and looking to do some more adventurous activity. Not content with the life saving and gliding I was looking to the great outdoors for more enjoyment. The South West Coastal footpath went past the perimeter of the camp, along the cliffs and further afield in Cornwall was Bodmin Moor. So there were opportunities to go walking within the county.

As usual I would scan Station Orders and one day I noticed something about the Strike Command Cambrian Expedition. There was a form available from the Physical Education section ( at St. Mawgan ) in which stations within the Command could enter four person teams to take part in a Four day expedition in the Black Mountains of South Wales. It consisted of teams Canoeing down the River Wye starting near Hay on Wye with camping gear stowed in the canoes, with a overnight stop half way then finishing at Hereford. We took transport back to the starting point for a debrief, then taken to the start point of the second stage of the expedition.

Before I talk about this any further, I must tell you about the training we had to do before going out to the mountains and river. First of all a team had to be chosen. That year there was enough people to warrant two teams going from Portreath so getting to that stage was quite easy. There was also a team going from St. Mawgan, so for some of the training activities we went together. St. Mawgan had a slot booked every week  at Newquay swimming pool for use by aircrew doing survival training, but sometimes the slot wasn't being used, so we all turned up so that we could be trained to exit a canoe correctly should we capsize. We also trained to help someone to safely return to their canoe, by steadying the kayak with paddles and another craft. We were not expected to learn how to do an Eskimo roll that experienced canoeists do. Once we had become proficient at that, the next stage was canoeing in open water. We didn't have many decent rivers or lakes nearby to practice on, but we did have the Atlantic Ocean ! We had at Portreath the RAF C1 Canoe Champion, Cpl John Harvey. He was always disappearing for a few days to take part in competitions either in the UK or further afield in Europe. John was handy to have around to give us useful pointers and tips when it came to canoes.

Sheltered Newquay Habour beach

More exposed Watergate Bay surf beach

We started off paddling around outside of Newquay Harbour and later we went canoeing at Watergate Bay, which had more surf, and more chances of capsizing. Two of the St. Mawgan team were young LACWs in the AATC trade. I came across both of them later in my career. Both had changed their jobs in the RAF. One, Helen, re-mustered as a Loadmaster and she worked with me on 10 Sqn VC10s, and the other, Yvonne received a commission and I met her again while she went through the Air Traffic Controller's course at RAF Shawbury seven years later.

Back to the training. We next had to become skilled at map reading in wild country, so after doing a crash course on maps,  we set off as a team to the Dartmoor National Park, which was not far away over the county border in Devon. 

Dartmoor on a clear day

We were dropped off at a point in the south of the moor and were given a point on the map that we had to navigate to. In this part of the country we had to get used to using natural features as landmarks, so as to determine our location. We became proficient at taking compass bearings and navigating using only the compass and map. Once we reached our destination safely, we were deemed safe to take part in the main event. 

Once we arrived at the main base camp near Hay on Wye we were given more instructions and a chance to meet the other teams and Direction staff. It was here at the base camp I bumped into someone from my Air Cadet days. Peter Welch enlisted straight from school and had undergone technical training, becoming a Sergeant fairly quickly. We had a good chat and catch up over what we had been up to. I next met Peter while I was undergoing my Air Steward training at Brize Norton. He was doing his Tristar ground engineers course, before starting on 216 Sqn. I occasionally bumped into him when we crossed paths at Brize.

Peter Welch who now works for British Airways

Not long before we went on the expedition, I had to go to Plymouth to buy a decent pair of walking boots from Blacks outdoor shop. I found a pair, and spent several weeks breaking them in. Unfortunately there was a bit on the left heal that hadn't broken in enough, and after a while started rubbing my heal enough to create a big blister.

The Black Mountains - part of the Brecon Beacons National Park

Our route took us from the carpark  ( near the top of the picture) and climbed the ridge past by the ruin of Castell Dinas up to the summit of Pen y Manllwyn at 766m ( 2,513 feet). 

Pen y Manllwyn our first summit

We then turned right and followed the faint track towards the next summit of Waun Fach 

(811 m)

The track to the summit of Waun Fach

From the summit the track followed a ridge due south for several miles until it sloped to the valley below and the village of Llanbedr. On this day it was very misty with low cloud so we couldn't see very far. On one side of the ridge was the valley below, and the other side was forested into another valley. Suddenly from out of the mist one of the PTI directing staff appeared. He was checking that everyone was not getting lost. Obviously our map reading training had paid off especially as we were walking in mist so land marks were difficult to find. My blister was agony so I told him about it. He had a look at it and said that it was pretty bad. After applying a large plaster to the blister, he said I should speak to the medic who would be at the halfway camp in Llanbedr. So I struggled on, following the team as we made our way down the track towards the campsite. I felt I was letting the guys down as they had to go at my slow speed. If they had a problem they didn't say anything about it.

Eventually we made the camp site. The first thing we did was pitch our tents and sort our kit out ready for the next day. Whoever planned the expedition had been spot on with the choice of campsite. It was in a small field near the village Pub ! We decided not to bother cooking our own own meal, but went to the pub to eat and have a pint ( or two).

Before we went to the pub I went to see the medic. She looked at my blister and  a proper dressing. She said that I shouldn't wear my boots the next day and keep in training shoes. There was a problem with this. It meant if I didn't complete the task, we couldn't get the trophy at the end. We discussed the problem with the DI staff and a solution was fortunately found. The route we should have taken meant climbing the ridge on the other side of the valley to where we had hiked that day. However there was a narrow road going down the middle of the valley, which then turned into a unpaved track. It gently climbed up to a pass  at Mynydd Llisiau (662m) which then joined the track we would have taken back to the rendezvous point at Pengenffordd.

So once we had broken camp the next day we started off on the lower route which I managed to walk in trainers, although I was still in a some pain. Once we had completed the task we were taken to Base camp where we waited for all the teams to arrive. Before setting off for home the presentation of trophies took place.

My Trophy 

( it is kept in the display cabinet in the living room)

Next time I will talk about another sport I did while at Portreath. ( when did he actually work you ask?) and how it changed my life forever !

See you soon.

Rob