My Grandfather - Fearsome
Phil
Phil Ogison
| The following is my memoir of growing up in Sandgate
during the 1950s and early 1960s. I should make clear that as my
father was a policeman with the Kent County Constabulary, we moved
around quite a bit, but as my granparents, Philip and Maude Drayner
lived in Sandgate for most of their lives, it was only natural that I
would spend a good deal of my summers and weekends with them.
I was born the 6th of November 1948, at Beachborough Villas,
Folkestone, and some of my earliest memories, although foggy, are of
Sandgate. I remember a petting zoo, and the cliff trams, and somewhere
back in a distant memory some workmen tearing up a small train track.
I have no idea where this occurred, it's just one of those images that
never disappears. Perhaps another reader can shed some light.
My main haunts growing up were the chalk garden behind my
grandparents' house, the High Street (the sweets shop in particular)
and Granville Parade, where my aunt and uncle Richard and Eve Vigus
lived on the top floor of a building overlooking the beach...I can't
remember the address, but it was a black and white building, about 3
storeys. |
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A little down the road to the east was the Folkestone Rowing Club
building, where the skulls were neatly stacked. My grandad would often
leave me in there to wait while he attended to some business or
another, and I can still smell the varnish and brine as if it were
yesterday. When he was finished, he would come by and sometimes we
would stop in at his pub, and I would get to drink the last inch or so
of his pint...this of course when I was older. Bryan Evans has
mentioned 'the fearsome Phil Drayner' in his memoires, but I think I
had quite an altogether different image of him!
By the time I came to some degree of consciousness I was aware of
him in the role of a fisherman, and I often accompanied him sometimes
with others, on his boat, either putting down or pulling up lobster
pots. One particularly comical incident involved a conger eel. My
grandad had extricated the beast from a pot, and smartly smacked its
head on the gunwhale. He assumed it was dead and returned to his tasks
unaware of the conger resuming its natural nasty disposition. It bit
him on his behind! I can still remember the small triangle of material
hanging from his trousers! Mercifully, I don't remember what he said!
Phil Drayner was a formative figure in my life, and when remembering
the past many events feature him prominently. He would take the
lobsters that were his catch to a man who lived near Sandgate Castle
who would take care of boiling them. I was always warned to be careful
when playing near the Castle, as it had a reputation for falling down
without warning, or so I was told.
On many occasions the Channel would turn nasty, and on those gale
swept nights, I can remember trying to get to sleep at my Aunt and
Uncles' flat with the howling wind and crashing waves as a backdrop.
One particular occasion stands out as being quite unique. After a gale
that had lasted a good two days, all became still, and foggy by the
morning. I woke up looking out over Granville Parade to see a tramp
steamer with its stern on the beach. I believe it stayed there until
high tide when a bevy of tugs came to tow it into deeper water. That
reminds me of another story Phil Drayner used to tell, that of the
wreck of the Bienvenue, which apparently was visible at low tide
somewhere west of Sandgate, possibly toward Hythe. |
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