Going Over the Water: Memories of the Gosport Ferry

By David Gary

The Gosport Ferry occupies a special place in people's lives. Day in, day out, it calmly plies back and forth across Portsmouth Harbour, and though the ferries themselves may have changed over the years - from steam-boats with open decks, where passengers were exposed to the elements, to the comfortable diesel craft of today with their heated saloons - they are still the source of familiar stories, handed down through the generations.
In this fascinating book, you will read dozens of those stories, contributed by people from Gosport, Portsmouth and further afield. Of the ferry that got lost in the fog, of the man who misjudged the leap from the pontoon and ended up in the water, of the pile of bicycles on the bow, of the Dockyard matey who met the girl of his dreams on board, of getting a stiletto heel stuck between the boards of the pontoon, of seeing down into the engine-room below, and even of the dog that travelled on the first ferry every morning - on his own - to go to Portsmouth Meat Market for a bone.
Many recall the 'Floating Bridge' too, with its clanking chains, and although no-one is alive today who remembers the days of the 'wherrymen' who used to row customers across the Harbour, their names and their legacy live on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chaplin Books
• Release date: Aug 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781911105268

Book preview

Going Over the Water

Memories of the Gosport Ferry

Compiled by David Gary

2017 digital version converted and published by

Andrews UK Limited

www.andrewsuk.com

First published in 2016 by

Chaplin Books

5 Carlton Way

Gosport PO12 2LN

www.chaplinbooks.co.uk

Copyright © David Gary

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder for which application should be addressed in the first instance to the publishers. No liability shall be attached to the author, the copyright holder or the publishers for loss or damage of any nature suffered as a result of the reliance on the reproduction of any of the contents of this publication or any errors or omissions in the contents.

The first Harbour Spirit crew: Mike Standley, Philip Theobold and Wayne Crawshaw

Introduction

I had a crazy idea. It was going to be a comic novel about a group of protesting pensioners who come up with the idea of hijacking the Gosport Ferry.

It made me think, and as my wife and I were sitting on one gloriously sunny day, drinking a coffee on the esplanade in Gosport, watching all the shipping movements in the harbour, that there was one constant. The Gosport Ferry plods back and forth, back and forth, never stopping. Nobody takes much notice of it - nobody takes that much notice of their own heart until it falters - and the ferry is a bit like that. You can’t rush it, and there is nearly always a sense of calm on the jetty. London Underground discovered that as long as they told people when the next train was coming, agitation and tempers subsided. It could be as long as twenty minutes, but if people knew and believed, then things were OK. With Gosport Ferry, the same sense of reassurance is achieved by the simple fact that you can track the ferry with your own eyes. It is always visible to the expectant passenger; excited children eagerly awaiting another adventure can watch their boat approach and berth.

There were strong winds recently: they stopped the big ferries crossing to Caen in France and held up the Isle of Wight Ferries, but there on Facebook was a picture of the Gosport Ferry operating normally. A comment underneath said: not even the North Koreans could stop the Gosport Ferry.

Having said that, this service across what is one of the busiest ports in the country does not happen by accident. The crews are dedicated and professional: they are, after all, entrusted with the most precious of cargoes - loved humans.

It provoked me into thinking about the role these vessels have played in people’s lives: it’s one thing to research the history of the ferries themselves, but they are only part of the story - it is the passengers who bring the ferry to life. They bring anecdotes and emotions - from love to hate, from desperation to joy. So I have set about trying to bring some of those stories to this book, in order to shed some light on the social history of the ferry service.

No book involving such a historic ‘service’ can just pick up from today - it’s vital to put it into context, so the first chapter of this book builds on the histories contained in Michael Wright’s book It’s Shorter by Water, published in 2012. I have tried to add to his work by introducing documents held in libraries, and by researching countless press cuttings from The News, or as it was years ago, the Portsmouth Evening News.

The second chapter turns the book over to you, the passenger, and your stories about the ferry - memories of the clanking of the chains on the old Floating Bridge, of the ferry getting lost in the fog, of men who misjudged the leap between pontoon and ferry, of the traditional football match played each year between employees of the ferry company and the bus company... and of the Dockyard matey who met the girl of his dreams on board. In the course of research, my wife came with me to coffee mornings in care homes, helping residents reminisce and hoping to glean at least one story that had the ferry in it. Every story we were told was rich in memory and historical significance: as they spoke, they were no longer old people sitting in chairs, sometimes shaking, sometimes far away - they were young again, and they could feel the spray of cold sea on their cheeks, blowing inwards from the bows.

For Chapter Three, I tried to track down what happened to the old ferries taken out of service, like the Vadne and Solent Queen. It was worth scrambling across mud-flats to meet the current owners and to hear their tales.

I hope this book helps to stir a few memories of your own, whether you still see the ferry every day, plying back-and-forth across the harbour, or whether you now live far away from Gosport but still remember the ferry with fondness.

As for the comic novel, well that still waits to be written...

David Gary

September 2016

1 - The History of the Gosport Ferry

His senses, dulled by the beer, were reawakened by a cold blast of air. A stiff breeze blew in from the north and chilled the very soul. A female voice shouted to him, Come, warm yourself, darlin’! but he ignored her. His mission was to cross to Portsmouth and the pleasures of the night would have to wait for another time.

He heard the sound of a fight followed by a harsh scream: another man overpowered by the press gang. But this was good news for him because it meant that he could hitch a ride with the gang and their victim, for they would ‘be over’ straight away to deliver the man into the hands of the Navy.

A boat to cross! they shouted, carrying their victim, who was semi-conscious. The wind was whipping up, and the wherrymen were waiting for a signal to charge more, but so far none was forthcoming: the fare would be a ha’penny. An old woman was already sitting in the wherry, the bottom of her skirts muddy where she had made her way to the boat. But the boat held no shelter and she was shivering, her feet wet and cold. Now she was joined by the gang and the returning drunken sailor. The joys of life are never ending, she said to the wherryman sarcastically. He grunted, and then shouted into the night: We’re across. He waited momentarily for any voice returning his call from the darkness. But none came, so he struck out, with everyone doing their best to shield themselves from the spray he created with his oar and from the waves lapping the gunnels.

‘A Cheer for our Jolly Watermen’

For hundreds of years, men and women from the little fishing village of Gosport had need to travel to Portsmouth. In the Middle Ages, the fourteen-mile journey by land was a dangerous one. If you managed to avoid the ever-present threat of robbers around Fareham and Portchester, there was still the treacherous open marshland that surrounded Portsea Island to be crossed. The road was often completely washed away by storms and tides, so there was no guarantee that you could get onto the island at all. With a good horse, the journey would have taken the best part of half a day - and even longer if pulling a cart.

So the sea route across what is quite a narrow strip of water, measuring about a third of a mile, was by far the most attractive and there were always fisherman who would ferry people across as a lucrative sideline. The job was not an easy one: often the weather was bad, and they also had to deal with fast-flowing tides.

Portsmouth grew during the reign of Henry VIII. Constant threats from both the Spanish and the French meant that he needed to build a real Navy, and indeed it was from Portsmouth that his flagship, Mary Rose, sailed on its ill-fated last trip in 1545, sinking in the Solent on a fine day. With the growth of the Navy came