In 1852 we are told, “ The railway trains from Lancaster for ever and anon brought its hundreds to swell the mass…” For the West Riding towns of Yorkshire an 1859 advertisement by the Midland Railway offered day trippers cheap rates for the Morecambe regatta. The trains left from Leeds, Bradford, Skipton, and ten other Midland stations, which suggests several thousand visitors descended on the Morecambe regatta from the West Riding towns alone. Children below three years could ride free, those up to twelve years for half fare. The price was two shillings for a ticket which was non-transferable; the return train would leave Morecambe at 7-15pm.    

In May 1876 during a Parliamentary hearing to increase Morecambe’s water supply Richard Bond, town surveyor to the Local Board of Health, provided a more specific breakdown of the duration and numbers of visitors to Morecambe during the 1875 season. If his figures are correct this shows that Morecambe’s resident population which was 3,500 in 1875, at least doubled over the season.

 “ I calculate them in three ways – first, all those remaining a week, ten days or a month, 25,000; secondly, those remaining from Saturday to Monday, 26,000: and thirdly, excursionists who came for a day, 65,000.”

A variety of view points were taken up by the crowds hoping to see the best of the racing. At the 1852 regatta we are told, “…the whole of the spacious beach from the West View Hotel (now the Oasis amusement arcade) to the North Western Hotel (now the Midland Hotel) was crowded with spectators.” and that ‘several capacious tents’ were erected on the sands to provide shelter should the weather turn. Others took advantage of accommodation or private houses as at the 1860 regatta: “…the windows of the houses overlooking the Bay were thronged with a bevy of fair faces.” More novel stadia were utilised at the 1852 regatta in the form of the steamboat Albion which, moored a short distance from the shore, was ‘filled with spectators’. Victorian Morecambe’s ‘New Pier’, later known as the central pier was also used as a viewpoint to enjoy the races, and in 1887 a grand stand was erected for this purpose. The following description, awash with Victorian sentimentalism, paints a vivid picture of the crowds enjoying the regatta from the New Pier: 

 “The flagstaff on the promenade is festooned with flags, and the pier is literally alive with colours of all kinds and a surging crowd of happy humanity. Lancashire and Yorkshire are seen to be lining the edge of the pier, and packing the observatory arch above, and the countenances of spectators wear that aspect of individual unconsciousness which is demonstrative of contentment.”

As a completely weather dependent event on balance the regattas received an equal share of rain and shine, with only a few disrupted and one abandoned completely. Those that did fall foul of the weather re-scheduled their events and ran them within days or a week at most. The abandonment of the 1848 regatta can be put down to a total refusal on the part of the committee to accept that the weather had no intention of favouring them even with a slight breeze. Indeed, the committee waited until noon then made the rash decision to start the yacht race in the vain hope that wind would eventually move things along.  By two ‘O’ clock when the wind had ‘lessened than increased’ and the tide ‘had begun to set rapidly down the Bay’ several marooned yacht crews signalled for assistance, and were all promptly towed back to safety by the steamers The Duchess of Lancaster and the Nile.  At the 1852 regatta despite a heavy downpour of rain around one o’clock we are told that visitors,  “…poured into the village…” making their way to the promenade in, “…all kinds of conveyances from the humble donkey cart to the phaeton…” A ‘brisk breeze’ from the southwest at the 1860 regatta gave great hopes of some ‘splendid sailing matches” though unfortunately for the rowers “…it severely tried the muscular powers of the stalwart oarsmen.” The crowds at the 1861 regatta certainly could not be described as stalwart, as almost all left the beach to seek shelter from rain showers – though to be fair they had been waiting an hour and a half because of a delay in the racing.  Even the ‘enlivening airs’ of the Rifle Band, we are told, failed to lift the mood of the crowd which, like the weather that day, also became quite foul: 

 “…A large concourse of spectators were at one time assembled…but a few smart showers …had the effect of considerably thinning the numbers, whilst others annoyed at the delay…also left the beach, so that by the time the last boat race came off…there were very few people left ”  

Every cloud has a silver lining. The following commentary on the 1875 regatta provides a vivid account of how, after a dismal start to the day, the changing weather transformed the mood of the crowd from one of ‘damp gloomy failure’… 

  “ The clouds are clearing away, the outlines of the hills across the Bay are coming into view with the utmost distinctness, the tide is rising and a beautiful fresh breeze is playing upon the water… Morecambe is wearing her brightest aspect as the fine weather supervines, and both residents and visitors are throwing aside their sombre attire of waterproof and are preparing to come out in their holiday best.  At one O clock an entire change had passed over the scene, and from damp gloomy failure speculators are turning to the prospect of a great success.”  

The organisation and co-ordination of the regatta rested on the shoulders of the ‘committee’ – a group of gentlemen, not always from Morecambe, who made the necessary arrangements to ensure the regatta ran smoothly. Over a period of two to three days and with up to twenty sailing matches at some regattas, not to mention the field and rural sports held at various points along the prom, the committee certainly had its work cut out. No doubt planning and preparation for the regatta probably began not long after the last one had finished for there was much to consider: raising subscriptions; advertising; setting the coarse for each race; the recruitment of race judges and stewards; the provision of shelter and seating for spectators; invitations to competitors; the collection of subscriptions for entry and prize monies; negotiations with the steamboat companies and the railways for special rates for visitors; the provision of accommodation for the more notable officials and competitors; preparation of the vessels, and a whole host of other tasks to complete to make the regatta a resounding success.

It is easy to criticise when things go wrong and things did go wrong at some of the regattas. As already seen above at the 1848 regatta the committee misjudged the weather and averted what could have easily been a major disaster if not for the steamboats present. Good contingency or just good luck?  A frequent criticism of the committee was the race programme which appears to have regularly confused spectators, though sometimes the confusion could not always be attributed to the programme. This is demonstrated at the 1875 regatta and the delayed start of the yacht race. The delay this time however, was not down to the programme, but from consideration by the regatta committee of low water and the avoidance of the competing yachts becoming grounded on the sand-banks of the Bay.

To the credit of the committee there are no reports of any incidents involving loss of life or serious injury given that both the promenade and the waters of the Bay were swarming with thousands of spectators, and hundreds of sailing vessels of all kinds. Their ability to actually keep control of events and communicate under such conditions and all without the aid of modern day technology is quite simply – awe inspiring. The notion by some historians that late Victorian society was ordered along military lines and imbued with military values may go some way to explaining the smooth running of the regattas. There is certainly evidence to suggest this considering that many of the race judges were of military rank. At the 1887 regatta we find J. Fell, rear commodore of the Barrow Yacht Club, Colonel Ridehalgh, and Colonel E. Whalley as race judges, the latter also judged at the 1888 regatta.  At the 1875 regatta we again find Colonel Ridehalgh along with a Captain Read, and Colonel R.I. Hall who is also race judge again at the 1891 regatta, alongside Reverend C.V. Gorton rector of Morecambe.  

As with all major events, the amount of money raised held sway over what could be accomplished, and it was down to the regatta committee to raise the necessary funds. We know that public subscriptions helped to finance the regatta. It is probable that the Morecambe Local Board may have funded the regatta or indeed may have agreed with local residents and business owners to a small increase in the rates for a period. Subscriptions also came from further afield, however success in this area depended on advertising nationally, something a cash strapped committee could realistically never achieve. At the regatta dinner in 1875 a Bradford gentleman, Mr. Bury, alluded to the deficiency in advertising for the regatta and stated that, had it been more extensive, ‘…they would have had more competition, would have been able to obtain increased subscriptions, and consequently offer better prizes…’  The effects of poor finance are revealed in the following statement concerning the 1888 regatta which, failing to attract competitors, saw only seven races from thirteen competed for:

             ‘ This year there has been a great falling off of subscriptions, and had the committee not been able to bring forward a balance of about £90 from last year, their efforts would have been crippled with regard to the events. The prize money amounted to £120.’

The boats raced during the Morecambe Regatta were seafaring yachts, fishing and rowing boats whose specifications varied from regatta to regatta. For yachts we find variations in keel size (16-30 feet), tonnage (13-15), and depth below waterline, whilst for rowing boats we find single, two, and four oared sculling, two and four oared in-rigged sculling boats, and sculling from the stern. Other vessels used for racing included four oared gigs, and fishing boats. Races covered distances anywhere from several hundred yards up to sixteen miles out to sea in some of the ‘deep sea’ fishing boat races.  The races started alongside a yacht or steamer anchored mid-way between the ‘New Pier’ and the Stone Jetty on which were boarded the regatta committee and race officials. We are told the course for the yachts and the fishing boats was ‘…twice round the Bay, outside several flagships moored at prominent points, the distance covered being variously estimated by ‘those who knew’ at twelve to sixteen miles.’  

The rowing boat course started from the Stone Jetty past the committee boat opposite the Queens Hotel, past the ‘New Pier’, round a flag boat, then back to the committee boat. Yacht races were observed with ‘field glasses’ from the committee boat for the greater part of a race. From the committee boat white flags were placed at intervals and in varying directions for the different races which in turn were lined by a multitude of other vessels, many not in the races but packed with spectators, all hoping to get a good vantage point from which to watch them. Indeed in the hectic waters of the Bay at the 1887 regatta a sailing boat manned by three young boys was hit by a fishing boat causing it to capsize and float ‘bottom up’. As luck would have it the boys escaped the waters by jumping on board another fishing boat to safety.

Competitors from further afield were also invited to compete in the ‘open races’, however the low number of entries and prize money revealed in the published race listings and results suggests the Morecambe regatta never quite achieved national recognition. The 1852 ‘sailing match for open boats…open to all England…’ is one such example. An educated guess would suggest the prize money of £4 did not attract many from ‘all England’ and with the competitor’s destinations unpublished the names Bell, Brown, Willacy and Woodhouse sound suspiciously local. Equally absent of relevant information concerning entries from outside Morecambe was the esoterically titled open race, the ‘Strangers Prize’, open to sailing boats along the coast between Maryport and Southport. Ironically the ‘Strangers Prize’ lived up to its name, as information about only one of the competitors was published  (a Mr.Gornall sailing the Victory), whilst one of the competing boats was named Secret. The challenge for the Morecambe Cup in an open race at the 1875 regatta saw the Liverpool yacht Fairlie, sailed by Mr. S. G. Sinclair, come a very close second to a Morecambe gentleman, Mr. R. W. Dowse, who won sailing the Dotterel, whilst the yacht Kate, sailed by another Morecambe gentleman Mr. C. H. Maxstead came third. For this race yachts had to belong to members of a royal or recognised yacht club and were bound by the particular rules of the ‘Royal Mersey’. The published results show that the boats set off from Morecambe at 3-36pm with the Dotterel returning in the winning time of 5 hours, 18 minutes, and 55 seconds; the Fairlie in 5 hours, 22 minutes and five seconds, with  Kate  returning in 5 hours, 36 minutes, and thirty seconds.

If the number of outsiders entering to compete in the open races for yachts was low the fishing boat races held at the regatta were the opposite. The published results and race listings provide detailed information of competitors entering from some of the major fishing ports of Lancashire and Cumbria; Barrow, Fleetwood, Lytham, and Whitehaven. For example in a fishing boat race for vessels ‘of any station’ at the 1887 regatta, not a single Morecambe fishing boat was listed in the top five winners. In first place we find R. Cross from Fleetwood winning in Sunbeam – 4 hours and 34 minutes; second came the 31 foot Two Sisters manned by R. Wright from Fleetwood – 4 hours 35 minutes; third was the 28 foot School Girl manned by C. Whiteside from Lytham – 4 hours 35 minutes 45 seconds; fourth was the 31 foot Mayflower manned by Alexander Little of Whitehaven – 4 hours, 49 minutes and 30 seconds. The competition rules for the race stated that boats were to refrain from ‘booming out’ and were not to exceed 33 foot on the water line otherwise they would be subject to time penalties ‘according to Dixon Kemps’s scale – about 1 minute per foot.’

Dixon Kemp (1839 – 1899) was the authority on Yachting in Britain during the late Victorian period and was involved in yacht architecture, writing some of the seminal texts on yacht architecture and sailing for the period.

The surnames associated with the old Poulton fishing families appear again and again in the published results and listings of the regatta; Woodhouse, Gardner, Birkett, Baxter, Bond, and Edmondson, names familiar around Morecambe, then and now, as many from these old Poulton families became prominent in business and public office. At the 1852 regatta we find a race solely for ‘old herring boats belonging to Poulton’ – first prize 30 shillings, second fifteen.  Of the list of competitors and boats in this race we find T. Edmondson, Nimrod ; T. Baxter, Vanguard; Thomas Houghton Margaret and Alice; William Carter, Mona, and The James, competitor not named. After some delay, the committee being unable to set their boat to anchor, we are told that following the start of this race the boats remained close together, and that it was, ‘some time before they could get clear of each other to show their tactics’.  Although the James was the favourite, the Margaret and Alice ‘showed her superior sailing powers’ and won the race, the James having lost after going on the wrong side of the winning post. At the 1891 regatta we find another race specifically for Mussel boats (which generally raced distances of between 6 to 8 miles), entered by two Morecambe fishermen, Adam Woodhouse in his 20 foot Minnie, and George Bond in his 19 foot Flyer.  At the 1890 regatta during a twelve mile fishing boat race, the mast of a Barrow boat snapped in two. The race itself was won by James Gardner of Morecambe sailing the Foam, followed by Robert Wright of Fleetwood in second place sailing the Two Sisters.

Again the rowing and sculling matches attracted mainly local rather than national competition, with teams entering from Fleetwood, Barrow, and Lancaster to compete for the spoils. Unlike the calmer waters of inland rivers, the choppier waters of the Bay made the rowing and sculling matches a real test of skill and strength. At the best of times the Bay itself is rarely ‘dead calm’ and from most accounts of the regatta, the rowing and sculling teams often came into difficulty. The rowing race for the Morecambe Cup at the 1852 regatta saw one of the four Lancaster boats, the John O gaunt, struck broadside by a powerful wave filling the boat at the front. In true gentlemanly fashion, one of the other boats, Queen of the Lune, came to her assistance and, realising all was well, continued the race to finish second place. As well as negotiating the unpredictability of the waves, the rowing and sculling competitors were faced with the immense flow of the tide which at the 1860 regatta we are told, ‘…severely tried the muscular powers of the stalwart oarsmen.’  During the 1875 regatta six Morecambe crews rounded the flagship at the Stone Jetty and with a surging tide against them, battled their way back towards the winning line to the committee boat moored opposite the Queens Hotel.

Alongside commerce, business and trade, it appears competing in regattas was also the preserve of males in Victorian England. At the Morecambe regattas we find just one account of an all-female race of which we are told, ‘created a greater degree of interest than any other match of the day’, reinforcing the above view that females participating in sport were perceived more as novelty, than as serious contenders in their own right.  The women’s race at the 1852 regatta between three paired rowing boats, was fought between the ‘fair ladies of Poulton’ for the ‘ Grace Darling Prizes’. The fair ladies of Poulton that day were Mary Raby and Bella Lupton rowing the ‘Pilot; Elizabeth Gardner and Jane Mayer rowing Job Trotter; Anne Wilson and Sarah Miller rowing the Tormentor. The winners, Mary Raby and Bella Lupton rowing the ‘Pilot’ were complimented as ‘stout rowers’ whilst their rowing ability, described with a restrained and measured tone of Victorian Godliness, ‘…would not have disgraced any of the lords of the creation…’.

In the early hours of September 7^th 1838 a young woman along with her father, keeper of the Longstone lighthouse on the Farne Islands, took a rowing boat and saved thirteen people from the wreck of SS Forfarshire. Rowing the boat for almost a mile to Big Harcar, a nearby low rocky island where the survivors took refuge, the young woman kept the boat steady whilst her father helped them board. The adverse weather conditions forced the group to shelter in the lighthouse for three days before returning to the mainland. The rescue was sensationalised by the media catapulting the young woman, Grace Horsley Darling (1815-1842), from a life of obscurity to that of a major Victorian heroine and celebrity. Alongside a letter of commendation and an award of fifty pounds from Queen Victoria, Grace was celebrated in all walks of life from music and art, to literature with William Wordsworth penning a lengthy poem in her honour. After her death in 1842 from consumption, Grace continued to occupy the forefront of public consciousness as her portrait was used to adorn trinkets, tea-caddies, plates, postcards, chocolate boxes and girls’ annuals.

Competition at the regatta was fierce. The desire to secure victory inevitably led some competitors to break the rules, whilst others used the rules to their advantage to snatch the prize from the hands of those who thought they had won. In the race for the Morecambe Cup at the 1887 regatta, the crew of the John O Gaunt made an official objection against the crew of the winning Jilt for ‘[sounding] with an oar instead of a lead line’. The crew of the Jilt followed suit and laid a counter-claim against the John O Gaunt for sailing inside one of the flag boats during the race.  The objection against the Jilt was sustained and the boat was disqualified; the John O Gaunt took the first prize silver cup valued at 15 guineas. At the same regatta another crew were disqualified for failing to provide a cox, whilst in another rowing match a successful objection was made by the crew of the Jubilee against the crew of the Rose of Barrow for leaving out a coxswain; the latter crew were disqualified and the Jubilee took the £6 prize money. The path to glory saw some employ more desperate means to achieve victory.  At the 1861 regatta in the ‘Four oar’d race for landsmen only’ the leading boat, the Firefly, was rammed by the Grace Darling. With a broken rudder the Firefly made a valiant attempt to maintain her lead but it was not to be, the Grace Darling went on to win. In a rowing match during the 1887 regatta third placed Christopher Mayor and Thomas Sanderson were disqualified for cheating by pulling themselves round on the gunwale of the flag-boat. Rumour abounded at the 1875 regatta surrounding the Pet raced by Mr. A. Poole of Liverpool who won the 12 guinea first prize for the Ladies Plate; as one report put it; ‘…some doubt was expressed as to whether the Pet had gone over the whole course.’

Competitiveness also existed out of the water in the war of words between supporters of the Morecambe and Lancaster regattas. The following denouncement of the 1876 Morecambe regatta, written in a somewhat pompous tone by a disgruntled Lancastrian, is born out of frustration over the divisions within the Lancaster rowing fraternity and probably anxiety over the resurgent and successful Morecambe regatta of 1875 which, after a 14 year absence, attracted Lancaster rowers to compete for its prizes: ‘The Morecambe regatta has withered in the bud..At Morecambe this summer the ill effects were sufficiently apparent of failing both to keep the course and to observe the programme….’ If the Morecambe regatta had ‘withered in the bud’ others saw it very differently. The following author confidently predicts the Morecambe regatta to eclipse its Lancaster rival by the sheer variety of events on offer:

 ‘…though we are writing in entire ignorance of the quality of the Morecambe oarsmen, we should not be surprised if, with the variety presented in their programme, the result threw the Lancaster Rowing Club regatta into the shade.’

For the majority of the crowds, uninitiated in sailing savvy, games and entertainment were provided as a distraction and were watched or competed for at various points along the promenade. Referring to these distractions, sometimes referred to as ‘rural sports’ or ‘old English games’ one account of the 1875 regatta applauds the committee for,

 ’…their endeavours to beguile the tedium attached to the sailing matches…it is well known that landsmen not skilled in…the varied manoeuvres exercised on board the boats, become wearied in looking at them for a length of time.’

Locals and visitors were invited to test their strength and skill at whatever they wished and for the more retiring souls, they were at liberty to cheer them on from the sides. A sure-fire remedy for removing the tedium was the ‘Punt Hunt’, a regular event at the regatta, and one which must have been a real crowd pleaser. The ‘Punt Hunt’ involved several rowers, each in their respective punts, charged with catching the ‘duck’, (a competent swimmer), within a stated timescale.  At the 1861 regatta a gentleman volunteer who played the ‘duck’, audaciously requested that his time in which to evade the punts be doubled, from five to ten minutes; he then proceeded to lead his would be captors a merry dance, avoiding capture, and winning the 10 shillings prize.

At the 1852 regatta there was a foot race from the West View Hotel to the North Western Hotel and back, with a first prize of ten shillings, a steeple chase with a wheel-barrow which, ‘gave great amusement to the company’, a wheel-barrow race for a cheese, and a donkey race between ‘three celebrated Neddys ’ won by ‘Skerton Hero’. During the 1860 regatta a wheelbarrow race took place with the runners blindfolded. This was followed by a sack race, then a running race, whilst a wrestling competition with a starting line up of thirty two also took place. As with the yacht and fishing boat races, some of these distractions could become highly competitive.  Blows were almost exchanged in a trotting match when competitors accused others of allowing their horses to break in to a gallop. At the 1861 regatta the sports were held on the green opposite the West View Hotel and consisted of amongst others: high pole leaping won by George Willacy who cleared eight feet; a foot race for women for a ‘dress piece’; a foot race for girls for five shillings; walking a greasy pole, and a ‘…Gingling match…in which H. Townley with the bell, was caught by H. Woodhouse who won the prize 10s…’

After several days of very demanding, but satisfying work, the committee with the other notables were required to attend the regatta dinner, which was hosted at a local hotel or residence of a local Morecambe gentleman, or both. Reference to the regatta dinner, if not the regatta itself, goes back as far as 1834 which was a particularly interesting year as ‘…the attendance was numerous and respectable, but owing to the interest of the Great Will Cause, many of the fashionable did not attend.’ Following the 1835 regatta, “…the dinner took place at Gardeners’ Morecambe Hotel, and a dinner and evening party on a very extensive scale was given by Mr. Eidsforth, at Poulton Hall.” Other venues used to host the regatta dinner were the West View Hotel (1875, 1887) and Calton Lodge, by a Mr. C. Waller (1888).

The Great Will Cause here refers to the disputed inheritance of Hornby Castle, its estates and manorial rights. The legal battle was fought between Rear Admiral Sandford Tatham Esq., and the Reverend Anthony Lister and others, over the validity of the will and codicil of John Marsden Esq., of Hornby Castle. Rear Admiral Tatham’s argument was that John Marsden was of unsound mind when the will and codicil were made, and that Lister and others had exploited this vulnerability for there own gain.  The dispute, which dragged on for twelve years between 1826 and 1838, saw two of the ‘Lake Poets’ and leading literary stars of the day, William Wordsworth and Dr. Robert Southey, make an appearance at Lancaster Castle in 1836 on behalf of Rear Admiral Tatham. These literary giants were called to ‘give a critical judgement’ on documents relating to the case, however surprisingly, the court ruled that both their testimonies could not be admitted. In the end Rear Admiral Tatham triumphed and took possession of the keys to Hornby castle.

The only detailed account of the regatta dinner itself is the one held at the West View Hotel in 1875. In all, around forty five were present, as far as we know they were all male as no reference is made to the presence of women. The company comprised fifteen from the committee, and thirty others who were referred to as, ‘a few friends’. The dinner was highly formal, defined by rituals and numerous toasts which more than often were ‘accompanied with musical honours’. An example combining ritual and toast is given at the beginning of the dinner where we are told that: ‘On the removal of the cloth the usual loyal toasts were proposed from the chair and received with musical honours.’ Following the ‘removal of the cloth’ presentations of the respective cups were made to the winners of the races, after which numerous other toasts, as we shall see, were made throughout the dinner. The toasts were proposed by individuals in honour of other individuals whose role in the regatta was felt to be particularly worthy of praise.  For instance George Bingham, a committee member and founder of the Morecambe Visitor, toasted several judges for their good decision making which had, ‘given great satisfaction…their judgements impartially received…in that spirit in which they ought to have been.’ In response to Bingham, one of the judges Major Ridehalgh, thanked the committee and in his speech he noted the increase in yachting clubs in the area with new ones formed at Barrow and Windermere. Major Ridehalgh went on to state that he hoped that Morecambe would follow suit and proposed a toast to the health of the chairman of the regatta committee, Mr. C.H. Maxted, for making the regatta a success. In his speech Mr. Maxted tells us that he was invited to organise the regatta over a year ago, and that he too hoped in a few years that a yacht club would be formed at Morecambe. Mr. Maxted however was slightly downbeat at the fact that prizes for larger yachts could not be entertained at Morecambe, ‘as they had not sufficient water’. In short, the Bay was too shallow. As etiquette demanded, Mr. Maxted went on to toast the efforts of Mr. Tetley, the regatta treasurer and Mr.Dowse, secretary. Naturally the toast was accompanied with musical honours. This ritual of speech, followed by toast, followed by musical honours, continued into the night of which we are told ‘…the proceedings were considerably enlivened by the harmony of Messrs. Charnley, Wood, Hatch, &…’ who, we are to assume, were the musical entertainment for the evening.

After a hard nights toasting at the regatta dinner of 1861 and with the committee and other gentlemen soundly snoring in their beds, the post-regatta celebrations for several Morecambe fishermen were only just beginning. Already heavily intoxicated, having spent the evening in Morecambe’s local alehouses, the fishermen commandeered a rowing boat and managed somehow, in their inebriated state, to row and board the committee boat anchored in the Bay. It was stocked with exactly what they wanted – two gallons of Gin and a basket of sandwiches. The committee, confident the waters of the Bay were too rough for anyone to board had decided earlier that day to leave their refreshments behind. Being missed from their homes the area was searched all over and, unable to locate the men, panic started to set in:

             ‘ After a dreadful suspense of a few hours a sound came floating oe’r the waters, “We’re afloat, we’re afloat” with something else which could not be distinguished, until after a while a chorus, “ We won’t go home till morning” echoed along the shore, ”…it proceeded from five or six worthies – the missing men – who during the night, had put off unobserved, and made free with the gin and sandwiches, as not a bit or sup was to be found…’

David Ross-Clasper ©