good cateress newsletter sep 07

good cateress newsletter September 07


The Lunar Eclipse last week reminds me that the Spring tides must have been taking place. These are the big tides that would mean prawning in the early mornings along East Cowes breakwater, to catch the tide as it was changing from high to low.

Waking early, to find the chill of early morning fog, I would want to roll over and return to sleep. But everyone else was up and eager to be off. Dad would have bought tea to everyone to get them up. Prawning along East Cowes breakwater in the late summer Equinox tides was family tradition, I have a photo of my grandmother doing just this taken in the early 50’s.

The trick for me about the prawning was trying to maintain some level of body heat, while wading around in cold water. Having swam in the warm Adriatic and wonderfully heated pools all through Germany, I had not known that the sea or pools could be cold. Earlier that summer, in May we had gone swimming for our summer PE class at High School. I had eagerly lined up on the side of the pool and jumped in. But this was England in the 1970’s where heating pools was seen as extravagant It had never occurred to me that the water would be anything but warm, so when I hit that water I wasn’t prepared for the breath sucking iciness of it. I have always maintained that I levitated back out of the water. I learnt quickly that most of England's water was cold.

So now a little more awake I was standing looking at the blue green water, bracing myself to ease into its chill. The prawns were caught with pushnets with a flat base and mouth about four feet wide attached to a long wooden handle. These were pushed along the sandy bottom and around the bases of rocks catching a great variety of baby fish, prawns, shrimp and bits of seaweed. The prawns were grabbed out of the nets and stored in a plastic bag tied around the waist. I can still taste the early morning mist on the water and smell of rotting seaweed around the harbour breakwater.

Diana and I were the last holdouts to get in the water. We must have looked hilarious, from the waist down we had swimsuits and old sneakers, on top we had t shirts and a sweater. From the feet up to the knees the water was vaguely OK, but even a gentle wave was shocking. Simon, of course, was in the water splashing around, pushing his net and catching prawns. By the time I was finally eased into the water everyone else was ready to go home, we had enough prawns for lunch and more.

The translucent prawns, squeaked quietly to themselves on the way home. I try not to think that they were gasping in the air and dying. A big saucepan of water was put on the aga to boil as we all had a hearty breakfast of bacon, sausages and tomatoes, toast and honey.

But my favourite equinox event, was cricket on the Brambles sand bank.

My great uncle, Uffa Fox, designer of the airborne lifeboat that saved so many pilots and crew in the second world war; yacht designer and racer and great adventurer. Had over a few years watched the exposure of the Brambles sandbar, just outside of Cowes Harbour, during the autumn equinoctial tides. He kept thinking that there must be something that could be done on the sandbar and eventually came up with the idea of a game of cricket. The original teams had been Uffa’s office and work crew against the Parkhurst Prison Officers. The first game was played just after the second world war.

The Brambles sandbar would be exposed for only an hour, so the trick was to be out on the boats, anchored, ready as the sandbar emerged from the water. We would jump or in my case clamber, into a dinghy and row to the increasingly exposed bank, pull the dinghy up onto the sand. As the cricket stumps were placed, along with the red ensign and Uffa’s skull and crossbones being raised, the team captains would toss for who went ‘in’ first. The game would commence. There were always plenty of balls, and I believe they were American softballs, as they were easier to play with in the cold and wet. If a ball went in the sea it was counted as a 4, someone would have to swim out for these balls or they would just be left to float away.

The games I went to, Uffa with his usual charm would have persuaded British Hovercraft to bring the teams out and park the hovercraft on the sand. The Hovercraft was invented and built on the Isle of Wight. BHC would bring the new models for their test runs on the river by the Folly.

It was pretty amazing to be standing on this small sand bank playing cricket, surrounded by chilly grey green sea. Boats would come close to see what we were all doing, then stay to watch the ensuing game. There was much cheering and good natured booing by all concerned. We were also allowed to be out of school for these family traditions, so the pleasure was doubled.

All too soon the tide would turn and the game would rush to a close as the water quickly started to come back in. Stumps and flags taken down as the water lapped around our ankles. Back on board boat, we would have cups of tea from the thermos, or whisky macs for the men, with a big chunk of divine fruit cake.

There were other events on the equinox tides. Over at St. Helens on the East side of the Island, there was the fort walk. During the Napoleonic wars, Palmerston had ordered four forts be built in the Solent to protect the fleet at Portsmouth. St. Helens was the one closest to the Island. At the low equinox tide we would walk out and climb on the fort.

I should add here for all these adventures the clothing was similar, bare legs and many layers on top. When I think of an English Summer I am reminded that the evenings are rarely warm enough for outdoor activities, although the English try very hard for this not to be the case.


Uffa recounts his own telling of the equinoctial cricket match in his book “Joys of Life” and my aunt June Dixon wrote of it in her Biography of him, Uffa Fox a Personal Biography.