Seeing the boat out '“ a simple pleasure lost

I must admit it is many years since I made a special trip to see the ferry in (or out) but I would think I could be excused because I can witness this event from the window of my home.

When the new French wonder-boat gave her maiden appearance there were certainly many people lining the West Pier to welcome her and settle their own curiosity as to what she looked like plus, of course, the usual shipping enthusiasts whom you would expect to be there.

I had the good fortune to follow her in on a motor boat, but I heard not a cheer, a bell or a ship's hooter, even the little tug remained silent!

How sad. What an anti-climax. Whatever is intended to be done to this town of ours, it wouldn't be anything of consequence, but for the little river entering the sea and what man has done to provide a port to take such vessels and secure livelihoods for so many thousands over the developing years.

In today's first picture we see a common scene, particularly on a Sunday or a holiday time. The period is probably the 1950s. We had radio and television, but many people would say, 'Let's go to Newhaven and see the boat out' (or in as the case may be) and if there were children involved and the tide was low, then down to the sand beach, ice cream or a bun from the caf and a toilet on site should it be required.

Even if there was a parking charge, it was a cheap trip out and a pleasant time for all. If you were so inclined, there were two pubs close by.

The occasional car might be carried on the after deck of the vessel and as the boat left, many of the passengers would be at the rail waving their goodbyes to anyone on the shore. Those lining the pier would wave and bid 'bon voyage' to the intrepid figures so quickly being whisked away on the eager steamer.

And then it was all over and it just left you feeling, 'That was nice'.

Perhaps also the vision of the vessel itself may have given a touch of pride at man's achievement. Even if there were plenty of larger ships, they are ever wonderful!

So Brighton number six slips away, with the French flag (courtesy) at her foremast, the House flag at the mainmast and the Red Ensign at her stern (not clear).

She would have lowered her Blue Peter on leaving the quayside and pre-war would have been flying the Royal Mail pennant, also from the foremast. Now it seems, just the flag of the country of origin is flown and we don't know whether the captain/pilot is aboard or not!

To the left of the black of the funnel, note the footbridge over the gap blown in the East Pier as a precaution against enemy landing.

Foreground is the Fort moat which filled and emptied from the river, but could be contained if required. Filled in, Fort Gate flats were built on the site.

The first building towards the sea is the pilot's watch house. The nearest corner of this a store room 12ft x 8ft, was our first museum in 1971.

Because of West Pier foundation problems in the 1970s it was demolished as was the lighthouse at the sea end. The top of the tower was first removed then the concrete remainder was truly blown up!

Purchased by the museum, we had nowhere safe to keep the top. Paradise Park took over and at considerable expense restored it to its former glory and on a stone pedestal with steps and railings, it can be seen in the gardens.

The need for car ferries meant a short life for the Brighton 1950-66.

PETER BAILEY

Peter Bailey is curator of the Newhaven Local and Maritime Museum based in its own fascinating premises in the grounds of Paradise Park in Avis Road, Newhaven. Summer opening hours are daily, 2-4pm or by arrangement. Admission 1 (accompanied children free). Contact the curator on 01273 514760. Log on to the website at www.newhavenmuseum.co.uk