Old Wyves’ Tales – Volume 7 (Issues 60-69) 60-1 OWT 60 OLD WYVES' TALES 60 - SEPTEMBER 2008 EDITED BY DENNIS J DUGGAN, ROCK COTTAGE, BROOK STREET, WELSHPOOL, MONTGOMERYSHIRE. SY21 7NA TEL 01938 555574 07985 405365 www.wyvernians.org.uk EDITORIAL Not much to report since OWT 59, which appeared last June. A couple of new members have joined, one in the Phillipines and one in Australia. Those of you who read the Leicester Mercury might have seen an item about Clarence House on the Mr Leicester page; it was submitted by Brian Screaton. Speaking of Brian, he has been in touch with Age Concern and a date for our 2009 reunion has been agreed - Saturday March 21st. We have decided to stick with March, which of course won't suit everyone - but neither will any other date!! Obviously final details are still to be arranged, but I guess the mixture will be pretty much as before. I hope that one or two of you will volunteer to give a talk, so please let me know if you would like to have a go. There is plenty of time to come up with something. Ideally the topic should have some connection with our old school, either directly or indirectly. In memory of Ken Witts Wyvernians donated £50 to The Tear Fund, the nominated charity. Ken's widow, Jenny, hopes to attend the 2009 reunion, and has agreed that it would be nice if a few of us were prepared to stand up and say a few words about Ken. He made a great impression on almost every boy he taught, so if you would like to take part in the tribute (and of course this includes former colleagues) please let me know in good time. FROM ED FEATHERSTONE 1959-65 (Continuing Ed's memoirs - Editor) I've already mentioned my debt to John Lawson and Tony Baxter for extra tuition. John also ran many of the football teams, and was very generous with his time. Tony joined the school straight from university, and wasn't really much older than we in the Lower VI. We had total respect for his teaching ability, and everyone in my sixth form maths class liked him. Tony's notes, which we copied religiously from the blackboard, followed by worked examples, were an absolute treasure and ensured I got through the course and exam. I was so proud of these notes I couldn't bear to throw them away. They have travelled the world, and I still have them today. I must preserve them; I'm sure my children and grandchildren will find them fascinating in years to come. Obsessed as I was with becoming an aviator I was given to doodling pictures of aircraft on the covers of my exercise books. On the whole the teachers indulged me in this, but occasionally insisted I cover the book with brown paper, which simply meant I had a brand new canvas! One teacher, whose name I forget, took us for Latin for just a year. He had a natural air of authority and gravitas. Most of us were not very interested in the subject, and conspired to divert his attention. He was passionately interested in the Romans, so when a passage raised the relevant point we would deliberately ask what it was all about. He couldn't resist telling the story, and further Latin for the period went out of the window. When the bell rand he would say, 'Oh dear! Where has the time gone?' I inherited a reasonable singing voice from my parents. This was spotted in the first ©2012 Wyvernians – www.wyvernians.org.uk Old Wyves’ Tales – Volume 7 (Issues 60-69) 60-2 form by Bill Sykes and he talked me into singing Once In Royal David's City on the assembly hall stage. He accompanied me on the piano in front of five hundred or so boys. I was so terrified I could not face the audience, but think I got through it without falling apart. Bill had little ability to keep order, and seemed a rather manic character. It was a pity that some pupils took advantage of this and made his life a misery. Children can be very cruel. My best memory of Bill is the school song (which he composed, and I still remember) and his amazing rambling recitals on the organ in Leicester cathedral. Later on I joined the school choir and learned a number of traditional French songs. Added to the anthems taught in junior school these have come in useful for impromptu sing-songs around the world. On one occasion, after dinner in a Hamburg restaurant, I received a round of applause for my renditions of Au Claire de la Lune amongst others. WAG Pace was quite a character. During my time he was probably the oldest teacher, and loved to tell stories about his childhood in London during WW1. He told us how children were sewn into their underwear for the winter, and how he saw a Zeppelin shot down. He found a piece of the airframe, his first sight of aluminium. Never one to make concessions to the correct pronunciation of place names he would tell us about Byoo-nose-airs and Marr-sails. The most intriguing teacher was Cecil (Chas) Howard, whom I got to know well via the Green Wyvern Yacht Club. Cecil (he said his name meant one-eyed in ancient English) was a fine historian and a published author. He was one of the first to demolish the myth that Richard The Lionheart was a great king of England, when in fact he spent only a tiny proportion of his reign in his kingdom, drained the coffers for his crusades, and left the dubious John in charge during his absence. We continue to suffer his legacy to this day. Cecil had sufficient income to own a flash Jaguar, and a yacht on the broads called Vanessa; she was Bermuda rigged, rather than Broads Gaff. I think he may also have owned Sabrina - or was she owned by his brother Bert, who was a teacher at Alderman Newtons? There were frequent rumours that Cecil and his brother were gay, though that wasn't the word used then, but I never saw any evidence. The GWYC was Cecil's invention, and during the summer he supplemented his two boats with half a dozen hired ones. Only Vanessa had a small auxiliary engine, so whatever the conditions we either sailed or poled the boat along using a quant. Tacking up the narrow River Ant, or shooting Potter Heigham bridge, required great skill. The latter required achieving as much way as possible towards the tiny bridge hole. Then at the last minute dropping the sails and mast so you still had enough speed to squeeze through the bridge, then raise the mast and sails on the other side to continue sailing unimpeded. Not many could do this well, and nowadays you have to embark a pilot. We would delight in what we called a pub race. This involved the whole flotilla setting off about an hour before opening time and racing from pub to pub. At each pub the skipper would get the boat alongside the jetty, leap ashore while the mate secured the ropes, down a half pint then jump back on board for a rapid departure to the next pub. The race ended at closing time, and we usually spent the night at the last pub we reached. Pubs loomed large in the evening entertainment, and like many others I had my first experience of alcohol on a Green Wyvern cruise. I met lots of interesting people as the club grew from Bert and Cecil to undergraduates, and postgraduates who were former pupils of CBS and AN, to new boys who were pupils at schools where skippers and mates were now teaching. The hierarchy was strict, and depending on skills you could graduate from member to senior member, mate, skipper, vice-commodore and eventually commodore. Discipline was informal but effective, and everyone had to learn to pull their weight and be an effective crew ©2012 Wyvernians – www.wyvernians.org.uk Old Wyves’ Tales – Volume 7 (Issues 60-69) 60-3 member. We were all on first-name terms, including teachers, and I came to realise just how unstuffy was Cecil . I had some of my best times with the Green Wyvern, which was a great influence on my development. I even learnt the delights of reaching a new port and the concept of a run ashore, which I was able to follow for many years in the RN. During the spring, before we could begin the cruising season, there were preparations to be made at the boatyard in Brundall. Cecil would invite a few members to help over a weekend or so. He would drive us over in the Jaguar - very impressive - and we slept on the boat and ate in the pub. On one such weekend I put together a pram dinghy, made from a kit, with the help of Mick Souter from Alderman Newtons. Even the great C P Snow was once a member, and as a result wrote one of his lesserknown novels Death On The Broads. The opportunities offered by CBS in my time, including the GWYC, were quite remarkable. Today, without spending a huge amount of money in the private sector, it would be very hard to match what we enjoyed for free. I left the summer the school moved to Downing Drive, and it eventually became a mixed comprehensive.