Norfolk's Second Greatest Sailor

We will continue our walk through King’s Lynn’s history this week before returning back to the River Rhine for the last couple of episodes there.

As mentioned last time, our guided tour, thanks to Anne and Pat of King’s Lynn Tour Guides, only took slightly less than two hours, but takes two weeks in the telling. Trust me, that won’t be the end of it, I hope to catch up again with KLTG so that we can explore so much more of this incredibly important medieval port.

You will recall that we took a peak at Thoresby College, before giving our attention to the scourge of wartime coastal pubs, the hated Press Gangs. And that is where we left off last week. So, here we go again.

The next bit that caught my attention, also with a merchant navy link, is the development in and around Purfleet Quay. First of all, we go back to 1683 with the construction of the Customs House, designed by Henry Bell, one of Christopher Wren’s pals, for Sir John Turner, 1631 – 1712, a very big noise in the town at his peak, mayor, MP and vintner, hence his overall interest in trade, customs and excise.

Interestingly, he lived next door to the new Customs House and had it built with the main entrance facing his own exit, thus making his journey to work in the morning very short, as close to WFH as you could get. Raise your gaze up from the way in and a sculpture of King Charles II can be spotted.

Charles was no stranger to seafaring himself, commissioning many yachts in his time. These royal gin palaces were not the only type of pleasure vessel he liked to board, he wasn’t shy in taking the occasional mistress out for a spin, not sure which featured more prominently in his life, it is safe to say he admired the sleek lines of both.

The heads of two ancient Gods look out over the quayside from the water facing elevation of the building, Bacchus and Ceres, Roman god of wine, quite appropriate for a vintner, and Roman goddess of wheat respectively. It is from that vantage point that they can observe the wines approaching for unloading and the wheat departing over the horizon, depicting how important this place was for in and out, import and export.

Wander a little toward the old quay and you will stumble across a statue of Captain George Vancouver, 1757 - 1798. Told you that good things come to those that wait.

Who he, I hear you say? He is probably the most important eighteenth century sailor to come out of Norfolk. Well, except for that other fella, Lord Nelson. I think you’d probably take that at the beginning of your career, wouldn’t you? Then, if you take another glance at his CV, you will find he served with Captain James Cook, indeed, he is regarded as the most accomplished of Cook’s protegees.

He is most famous for charting the north-west coast of North America, including what we now know as Washington and Oregon, and, of course, Canada. I reckon you’ve worked it out now. Yep, Vancouver Island and city are both named in his honour, and to think he came from little old Norfolk.

Despite his historic greatness, he was a seriously troubled man, and died in his Surrey home at far too young an age. Do you know what, his life would make an epic film or TV series, which would catapult his much underrated achievements, unless you live in Lynn or Vancouver, more to the fore.

One enormous tribute to the level in which his work was held was that his charts were still being used right into the 1990s, nearly two hundred years after the sun set on his final voyage. We owe this man so much.

Stroll along the Great River Ouse a little, by the way it passes through five counties before it empties out in The Wash, Northamptonshire, Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire and, of course, Norfolk, and you will chance across a couple of art installations, not sure that statue or sculpture are the right definitions, but maybe they are. I’m not very good with art! Can’t actually see it so probably haven’t taken the interest that I ought to have.

They are the Half Fathom Column and the Stock Fish Rack. There is no doubt that both are most impressive but, to be honest, I am not totally sure I immediately fathomed out the former. I totally get the latter, even my philistinian mind could get to grips with this.

I needed to take a look in Mr Google’s pages to work out the half fathom which, it transpires, is actually three fathoms. It consists of a 6.20 metre high needle atop a blue limestone plinth, the needle is made from stainless steel with polished bronze inserts, finished off with a solar powered flashing red LED light mimicking a buoy out at sea.

I looked at it, as best I could anyway, and I felt it but I could not work out its relevance to KL, the river or The Wash. Fortunately, we had two amazing guides who were able to fill in my huge blanks.

Ah, that’s it. It was composed of six middle sections, each measuring half a fathom in depth, totally three fathoms altogether, which represents the difference between low and high tide in the river, which allowed the medieval town to develop into such an important and prosperous port. I get it now and it makes perfect sense.

Forgive me here, I am a boy of the metric world, and some of the old measurements fill me full of dread. Furlongs, chains, rods, poles, perches (these last three are actually different words for the same measure: 15 feet and six inches) fathoms and all that sort of thing throw my brain into some sort of overdrive.

Honestly, if you were inventing a system to measure anything now, given that there was nothing, how on earth would you come up with these archaic, even chaotic, versions. I know many of you are much better educated than me, or at least, you paid attention in class, but for the avoidance of doubt, a fathom is six feet, so half a fathom is three feet. Three fathoms, therefore, is eighteen feet or six yards. Wow! That hurts my head. Yes, I will tell you, if you are a metric sort of a person, it is 5.4864 metres.

The Stock Fish Rack, on the other hand, well, that’s as easy as they come. It looked and felt like it could be a fish rack, with steel versions of the different types of fish hung out, as if ready for drying.

It also has representations of seaweed and oysters among other things, with a seagull keeping its beady eyes on things, this was clearly in the days before children roaming around with buckets of chips and ice creams. Seagulls clearly aren’t as healthy as they once were.

It also includes a mermaid’s bra. That just takes it a little too far, don’t you think? I mean we all know mermaids don’t wear bras, don’t we.

On the face of it, all this seems a little on the light-hearted side, but in truth, it commemorates a very important time in Lynn’s history. The port had strong trading relations with the cities of the Hanseatic League, The Hansa, and the import of dried fish was mega-important for its survival.

Many laden ships from the League would stop in at Lynn to drop off their loads from modern countries such as Germany, Poland, Latvia, Estonia and Norway. There were only a select few English ports given license to trade with the Hansa, and Lynn was one of them. And no, despite what someone once told me, I think it was my history teacher, the League was not an early carnation of the Common Market. It was port to port or city to city, not country to country.

The Stock Fish Rack, put together by around 150 blacksmiths to mark the town’s first Hanse Festival in 2009. It really is a huge tribute to the special relations with Norway, depicting the fish drying racks as often seen on the Lofoten Islands near Bergen.

My word, how things had changed since a previous generation of Norwegian sailors only wanted to come here for a bit of rape and pillage. Maybe some arch-enemies around the world today might become friends. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

If you ever find yourselves in King’s Lynn it really is worth getting yourself on one of these terrific tours. Just be prepared to come away knowing more than you did when you started out. Who said that ever hurt anybody.

Find Out More
King’s Lynn Town Guides: www.kingslynntownguides.co.uk

College: www.klprestrust.org.uk

House: www.kingslynncivicsociety.co.uk

Vancouver: https://en.wikipedia.org › wiki › George_Vancouver;

White Cane Ratings
Tour: very good, attentive guides - * * * * (4)

My Off Road Driving Experience

This is usually the slot I reserve to review any new parkruns I might have taken part in.

Unfortunately, I am a bit of a wuss when it comes to going out in the wind, you will recall it was blowing a gale last Saturday, as it plays havoc with my orientation, hearing is the sense I use most as a replacement for sight, and anything over the slightest of zephyrs renders me inoperable. That combined with fresh coffee and a bacon and egg roll kept me firmly ensconced in the lounge.

Anyway, thanks to my new besties, Vision Norfolk, I found myself taking part in one of the most incredible events this year, in fact, I think I will struggle to surpass it now. I really do consider myself to be very fortunate, because I try not to let the blindness thing get on top of me, which allows me to do some things, either on my own or with Jane, that ordinarily I would not get the chance to do.

It was back in 1997, about this time of year, that I last got behind the wheel of any sort of vehicle. It’s quite a shame that I never made a note of the date for posterity, it would have been an amazing coincidence had it been 6th October. To hell with it, let’s assume it was shall we?

It gave the day some sort of special synergy, 28 years to the day and all that sort of thing. When we arrived at Elvedon Farms Estate in, of all places, Elvedon, it was rather nice to realise that there was a fellow Ipswich Town supporter taking part. Although we never got the chance to chat, he must have been flying high, just like me, having buried 16 years of hurt the day before, and then to be doing this so soon afterward, not sure things get better than that. Don’t think a chap can have two better consecutive days.

We only had just over a half an hour wait for the Land Rovers to return from their first sojourn into the dirt tracks of the off road haven. Must say, having envisaged it all in my head, I was disappointed that I was not required to don the full Formula One attire, it really was a come as you are sort of a morning. I really did expect to be strapped into my seat, but there was none of that, it was simply a common or garden seatbelt. Never mind, fraught with disappointment we were ready.

We were taken out in pairs, my visually impaired co-driver, a lady named Clare, who had become vision impaired thanks to albinism, invited us to refer to her as “No I Clare;” see what she did there?

Can I just give a huge shout out to her for a most incredible feat that she has recently completed. I cannot even conceive doing this so hats off to her. She has now completed the Lake District Open Water Swimming Triple Crown. I start to imagine drowning just thinking of it.

Not only that, and I know the lakes are supposed to be stunningly beautiful, although they have never done it for me, but the clue is in the title, Open Water, I mean they look nice but what on earth is floating on the surface? I shudder to think what might be ingested. Whatever it is, and I accept this is gross, but what is usually squeezed out shouldn’t go back in. It ain’t right. Yuk, actually, no, double-yuk! She did it all in a very worthy cause, raising bags full of money for Vision Norfolk.

Right, the achievement consists of Coniston, Ullswater and Windermere. They are 5.25, 7.5 and 11 miles respectively. Boy, can you imagine?

Our instructor, a former MP, Malcolm Swan, took the driver’s seat at the outset, much to my relief, I had been a little fearful of getting out of the car park without causing damage. We ended up at the start of a muddy track somewhere on the estate, where it was my turn to jump into the pilot’s seat.

Why me? I have no idea, I don’t recall tossing a coin for it or arm wrestling or anything else for that matter. I have to say, had I won the toss, I would have put Clare into bat first, ladies first and that sort of thing. Chivalry is alive and well in my neck of the woods. By the way, I don’t mean that Malcolm was a former Member of Parliament, he was much more useful than that as an ex-Military Policeman; you know, a bit like Jack Reacher.

We were off, very slowly it has to be said. I wouldn’t call it “Driving Miss Daisy,” more like Miss Daisy driving. I was very careful. We did, occasionally, wander off course, but managed to reach the A11 in one piece, avoiding abandoned farm machinery on the way. Don’t worry your little selves here, we didn’t join the main road, turning around before bumping up over the shoulder.

It was at this point I went backwards. Yes, it was deliberate, before heading back the other way toward the start. On returning, in one piece, it was now Clare’s turn. Wow! She was something else, like a blind rally driver compared with me. My word, she was speedy.

A massive thank you to all who made this happen. You have made me one very happy little blind boy.

A post script to this is that this land is owned by Lord Ivor Edward Guinness. Now, I don’t know about you, but we have been watching the Netflix production of “House of Guinness,” which I am sure is as accurate as a Visually impaired shooter on a rifle range, but I have no idea about the looks or physical attributes of the characters, except for one.

I understand from my wife that when Arthur of the breed declared his assets he had more than enough to put a stallion in the shade. I won’t be able to help it but should I ever be lucky enough to meet Lord Ivor, I won’t be able to think past what he might be conceding from us!

Find Out More
4X4: www.explore-4x4.co.uk

White Cane Ratings
4X4 Experience: excellent - words can’t describe it * * * * * (5)