The fifth in the series, from the Cornucopia of Postcards from the Exquisite Collection of Sheila Brown, as we continue our walk from the harbour and up over Ramore Head and down Lansdowne towards the Bloe Pool.
<< this is work in progress – i haven’t found anyone new who can tell interesting stories of this area – let me know, if you have some to add in to this blog !! >>
Landsdowne. Lovely terrace, with the Tower House on the corner there. Trish Gray writes: “Tower House! my Dad was born in the room with the glass veranda!!!“
Portandhu little port, in the right photo. Trish: “We got an afternoon off school from Carnalridge when Billy Gregg opened Portandoo! Total delight!” as described in blog, Gregg’s dinghy pool, Portandhu lido.
Rosemarie Severin: “‘Billy Gregg the Boatman’, Dad used to call him..” Trish gray: “Oh, Mr. Gregg to me! otherwise Dad would have chased me!! (Though they were both good friends- boats, harbour, etc!)” Quite (very) formal in those days. I remember my Dad ‘tipping his hat’ to everyone as he walked up Main Street, stopping to chat etc.. Even people I knew very well as a child, were Mr, Mrs or Miss X. Or for very close family friends- Auntie/ Uncle… The narrow line was Mrs C, mother of my BBF, tho we didn’t use that terminology then!!
Loud music on Lansdowne green! Left, an historic photo! I dentified the image as being of Sharples circus, and newspaper archives had them as having a pitch on Lansdowne Green, in the 1920s. The posh residents thought the circus was un-cool though – noisy, busy, and that Lansdowne was the only place in the town that had a genteel promenade – but being spoilt by circus revellers.
And, Radio 1 Roadshow, 1980 & 1981 (photos courtesy Caroline Dorsett) – above right, Kid Jensen with Bruce Penhall, 1980s, and – below, left, Steve Wright, and right, Kid Jensen with Bruce Penhall
Garden for the Northern Counties? Black and white image, and colorised version, hand-painted over The postcard left, is 1915, to Mrs. Joe Halshead in Oldham: “Many thanks for the big box of flowers which arrived all right today.“
and Right, July 1904, “Having a good time here but weather not the best. Giving up, going home on Saturday.“
Oh! Nice smooth tennis courts on the ‘Counties green – but then with the band playing on it !!! Shocking. Churning up the nice tennis lawn.
Left, is 1913 postcard, from Londonderry Hotel: “Dear Aunt [May Parker, in Huddersfield], we have just arrived, and everything is fine. We are a little busy. I send you this boring postcard as my excuse for not writing a letter, love from Dora.“ (Antrim Gardens – site of the ancient abbey of Portrush, described in blog, The Night the ‘Counties Died.) Right, 1908, postcard of the band playing on Counties green, and the greeting from K. to Mrs. Hunter in Belfast, below, must surely get the award for The Most Useless Postcard Message Ever:
Weather features on a number of postcards: “Having a good time, I thought we were going to get blown away on Monday night.” “Here for the afternoon with our church choir, but it has come on very wet, just pouring.” “Having good time but weather not the best, too much rain, just pouring. Giving up and going home on Saturday, Caroline.” “Enjoying ourselves though weather not too good. Went to watch the Fireworks Display but it just poured. I hope the weather will be better for you. Marie Leonard.”
A visit to Portrush to see me mum, I stay a super few nights in the Ramada hotel, covid times. One of the team there lets me out the door to go and look at the sculpture over in the gardens opposite, and she tells me, “Myself and the rest of my primary 6 school class, from Mill Strand Integrated Primary School, helped the archaeologic team dig up all the artifacts during their investigation of Antrim gardens in 2005. For a bunch of 10 year olds it was a very fun and memorable week helping the archaeologic team, they then designed the Antrim Garden to reflect what we found, as you can see on the stature in the middle of the gardens. Hope you enjoy! Amber.”
The Northern Counties, exterior and ballroom. Richard Brown: “….the Northern Counties’ fires. We got awakened by the fire alarm for both fires, and got up and watched them in the middle of the night. I have this photo from I assume the day after the second one.”
And then, that masterpiece of Portrush, the White House, written up in several blogs, including “Leadership at The White House” showing the wonderful example from Mr. Hamilton,
If you were visiting Portrush, what would you want to do? Well, buy popcorn and ice cream and sweets and go to the beach, The White House, the amusements, ……. Pretty high up on the list would be a ride on the donkeys – a traditional activity, fare for a hundred years and more!
…..And then, we are onto the East Strand, and there is the procession of donkey and ponies. Timeless. The photos above are the 1950s and the 1960s. I think everyone will have a donkey photograph of them with visitors, and below, 1970s, is Sheila Brown’s: ‘David this photo is about 45 years ago, about 1978! The lady to the left is my brother’s wife and two daughters from Vancouver, and my son Trevor on the donkey.’
And so memorable! Scott F, responds, ‘That’s me in the photo, holding the white donkey Snowball!’ – remembering the event, of over 40 years ago! 🙂
So, donkey rides, such a big part of Portrush life and visitor attraction – and I see it features there, up alongside other wild animals in a tourism brochure of 1971:
Me, Portrush Tales, I like to write about things that I have some connection with. About the donkeys, they lived just a handful of houses down the terrace, at the Edgar’s house, such a part of Croc na mac life. There’s a photo below from Maureen, of her sister Sandra on one of the ponies, so familiar and everyday that peope like Maureen and Heather R can’t remember anything about them! ‘Unfortunately no specific memories! Jessie Edgar’s donkeys were always just there…. – part of the Croc-na-mac fixtures and fittings!’
But the donkeys were transformed in my brother Kenny’s imagination into being in the wild west, and there he is, with Ian Bellingham, up on their coal shed roof, cowboys ready with their pistols to defend the ponies and donkeys and the waggon train going past…..
You can see, in the 1960s that the backs of Croc-na-mac houses were yards, scrubby, outhouses, workshops, grassy, bird cages for the Bellinghams a few doors up, rooms where families lived for the summer while they rented out the main house. Wire fences, not many walls, few cars, no garages in those days. Our back yard was lawn where we could play football and tennis – and there was a centre ‘pillar’ in our back wall, a brick and a half wide, just right to act as cricket stumps.
And the back lane was scrabbly, rough too. Watts coal lorry deliveries to our coal shed, and the horse-and-cart of the scary rag-and-bone man that we knew as the bogeyman. The back lane was ‘adopted’ by the Council at some point, and tarmac’ed, though Ian King writes, ‘I quite miss the back lane the way it was though – big puddles and pebbles, but I suppose it had to be modernised.’ The back lane became a nice smooth tarmac and we could play tennis or football and learn to cycle on it. No garage and when we got a car, Dad rented one behind the filling station on Eglinton St. Me learning to drive, that allowed the putting-the-car-in-the-garage task to be at least a lap of the town and maybe via Portstewart prom too, as part of my driving practice. Later Dad had the garage built with up-and-over door, so the width of the back yard ‘football pitch’ for kids’ play was reduced, but not our chance to have a drive around the town.
And the back lane was for the procession of the donkeys to and fro the beach, from Mr. & Mrs. Edgar’s up the road, with their daughter Fern, with a troop of youngsters from around the area earning summer job pocket money.
I remember Fern’s daughter Joanne as just a toddler, helping out too. Joanne writes, ‘The beach donkeys and ponies were a big part of my life growing up. It was up early and over to my Granny and Papa’s house at 36 Croc-na-mac to pick up bridles and then over to the donkey field to get our charges. A swift canter back over the football pitch and in to Mrs McConaghy’s back garden to give the animals a spruce up while they enjoyed their breakfast nosebags…”
Raymond McConaghy remembers, ‘They saddled up in our back garden, number 30 Croc-na-mac Road, before their morning trip to the beach’; delightful, though Ian King, another neighbour, writes, ‘Well I really didn’t like the donkeys to be honest – their size (when I was little) and the stench.’
Joanne: ‘Me in the saddle, in Mrs McConaghys back garden, about 1980. I’m not sure who all the people are but the pony is Candy’ (on the right, Laura-lee in the great blue flares, and Cindy M)
Then, every summer morning would be the parade of a dozen or so donkeys and ponies out along the back lane, on their way to the beaches. Joanne, ‘After ther breakfast, we split up to either the ‘Big Beach’ or the ‘Wee beach’. If it was the big beach then Shimo, Ken Bolton’s beautiful wee collie, was waiting to spend the day with us. We scaled the Bolton’s gate at Strandmore – it seemed an insurmountable height when I was small – to get buckets of water while someone ran to the grocery to collect the carrot tops that the grocer kept for the donkeys, something they loved.’
Left, out the front at Croc-na-mac. Joanne: ‘Maureen Kane will recognise these boys! Jet is the pony and Rosie is the donkey’ and Nigel J writes, ‘Darren in the red, I’m in the navy coat and Neil G has the red boots on.’ and right, Joanne: ‘I know who this is but if I tell, he’ll kill me and he’s bigger than I am these days lol!!?’
My Dad’s roots were in farming, and he was always a keen gardener, green-fingered. He’s out the back garden, planting roses or something, and says to me, David go over and ask the Edgar’s for some horse manure. So off I go, and I ask Mr. Edgar, who says, Yes sure, bring a bag with you and shovel it up. Hmm – that wasn’t quite what I expected.
A reviewer writes, “Oh David!! That is so coincidental on my walk on Saturday there was horse dung on the path and I was cross I had no doggy bags to scoop it up for my shrubs Wasn’t Mr Edgar smart Yes I do remember the rides on the beach, most vaguely the excitement and fear of these huge looking beasts, how to get on and how to stay on and not scream head off. I remember I was more happy to watch them – they were really just docile and hard working little donkeys.”
I remember the donkeys on the East strand more, but Joanne reminds me that there were animals on the west strand too; the Council advert above is 1956, selling the licenes for trading, for photography, for ponies or donkies on the east strad (8 animals) and west (4).
Donkies and ponies on the beach – a great summer activity. Above left photo, Joanne says, ‘There is Jet and Sandy on the beach’. But what did the donkeys do in winter-time? Fred Ramage explained, in 1964:
That article says, ‘…donkeys… on the East strand for over 30 years’ – well I see donkeys featuring much earlier. There’s a postcard of early 1900s with the donkeys on the ‘north strand’, and donkeys in twee Irish heritage too, and with several donkey races in Portrush Regatta of 1887, that’s 135 years ago.
End of Part I! The next part will discuss the animals on the West Strand too. Do send, if you have interesting photos about the donkeys and ponies at Portrush. And / or might you have a story to tell of your expereinces with the animals? ..do write a paragraph or two, and the photos & stories could go into the next blog, coming in next few days. 🙂
========================== With thanks to Joanne Gibson for the story and family photographs, Sheila Brown for the postcard images, Maureen & Ian & Raymond for photos nd stories, Daniel Tietze for the Tourist Brochure, Newspaper articles from https://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/
We found the awesome photograph of our neighbour Sgt. Fulton, with the photo caption, ‘Carnival Day at Portrush, 1935’. Oh looking at newspaper archive, the Carnival was such a big event, so many really fancy costumes! And many of the familiar Portrush surnames, be it grandparents, uncludes, aunts, ……. of people that you know.
Oh, I find that there were TWO carnivals that summer, with fancy dress, and other events of fireworks, and bands, ….. there was a lot of stuff going on in 1935!
That’s Sergeant Fulton there on the left, with the three stripes on his sleeve, supervising the carnival day procession as it goes past the train station, in summer 1935.
Then, thinking about the events that happened that year…. Early in the year, the Sports Committee, the organising group, met in March to review the previous season’s activity:
But oh dear, the Committee had organised 18 events in 1934, but ALL except one were dreadful weather, washed-out, and visitors numbers were poor. And they had experimented with adding band promenades last year, quite a lot of expense, but they ‘had not received the support anticipated’ – no wonder as band promenades are pretty boring. It was a great effort by everyone, especially Capt. Shutt, but financially overall they were in deficit and disappointed. Mr Cunningham, the Town Clerk – that’s him in the photo below with Sgt. Fulton, on that Carnival day – tries to cheer everyone up, that taking the weather and everything into consideration there was no cause to be down-hearted, and with Council support there were more prosperous times lay ahead.
So, suitably encouraged, they continue with their plans for a big series of events for 1935: fancy dress carnivals, bowling tournaments, fireworks, military band entertainment, military tattoos, hard court tennis championships, and also swimming galas and yet more band concerts. Actually a program that sounds pretty familiar to me, growing up in Portrush! Plus ça change.
Excitement for the year’s activities is building…… There is a great celebration for the King’s Silver Jubilee, in May, with children’s events and a torchlight procession to a huge bonfire on Ramore Head.
And then Wednesday 17th July, is the opening event of a summer of fun in Portrush, with a parade beginning at 3pm (just like the time showing ion the train station clock):
It was the Belfast Military Band who led the July procession (and later in the summer, it was the Leicestershire Regimental Band who led the carnival in August).
And good news, the weather was ideal, the crowds thronged the streets and flocked to the natural grandstand of Ramore Head to enjoy the judging of the fancy dress. The competitors were your grandparents or uncles and aunts! There are the surnames Clarke, Ross, McGuigan, and in the centre is the family of Capt. Shutt himself, winning a prize as a basket of flowers.
Alan McF: “Brilliant David, thank you! I laughed at the pics of the young ladies in fancy dress, especially the one of a young Pat Anderson with the little ukulele. I run the local uke club here in Portrush, Ukes At The Port. “
There were about 11 categories of fancy dress, 200 participants were mentioned, and a roll call of winners as long as your golf club, the surnames that you will recognise – there’s Knox, Heron, Graham, Stewart, Lee, Chalmers, McFetridge, Diamond, Brown, Gregg, ……..
Imaginative, stunning costumes includes ‘Italian girl’, ‘Old Russia’, ‘Heading for the last round up’, ‘the Sheik’, ‘The Result of Revaluation’, ….
I’ve included photos of Carnivals for other years around 1935 where there are names that might interest you; the set above is of 1932 and has McFetridge, O’Neill, Kane, McCullach, Hepworth, ….. and the list of winners in the categories continues, you will probably find some nae that you will recognise.
Lucy S: “Another great collection of stories and photos. Loved the fancy dress of the cotton pickers – imagine the outrage today lol . Thank you David for sharing. “
The July carnival was a great success, and a bit later in July, fireworks, a Portrush tattoo, with special trains laid on:
So, summer 1935, and all is bliss. The town has successfully deflected the development plans away from Mr. Stephens of the Ministry of Fish’s plans to make Portrush an industrial-scale herring fishing port, to being holiday and health and relaxation. The Causeway tram trundles tourists out to the Giant’s Causeway, and there is increasing wealth. The photo above shows a nice array of sedans waiting around the train station and the town hall. The banner across the street advertises Fireworks 14th August – it really is this this year, 1935, with its ‘COLOSSAL DISPLAY OF FIREWORKS’ as in the advert below:
And ‘THE ORIGINAL MONTOS in Daring Aerial Acrobatics’ and ‘NOVEL AERIAL ACT’ ? Well, don’t think of Red Bull aeroplanes and parachuting onto the recreation grounds, rather instead think of tumblers, acrobats. Still, very impressive and novel I’m sure.
And hard court tennis championships? A feature in my teenage days too. (I wasn’t much good at tennis: I played in the championships just once, losing pretty rapidly in my one and only match. I think I was the Null Points, of a Eurovision Song Contest.)
The blog about the recreation grounds mentions the fancy dress competition, and of kids last-minute grabbing sheet off their bed, cutting holes in it, and going as the Holy Ghost, only to find other kids have done the same! The photos here, wow what marvellous effort went in to the fancy dress outfits! Costumes included archers, knights and their Ladyes, modern misses and Victorian dames, empire builders, fishermen, ……. – a rich and colourful variety.
The centre photo above is of two ‘Empire Builders’ – McAllister and Diamond, neighbours at Quarry Court, behind the harbour. Ken McAllister asks me, “Which is the most expensive street in Portrush? Answer: Quarry Court – because it is full of Diamonds”, he says.
I ask him if he knew Sgt. Fulton. “Yes indeed David, I knew him well. When I worked in Barry’s he used to sit in the office and have coffee. My mother was working in her house looking after Frank and Louise so I was careful not to step out of line because he would tell her. He was tough but fair.
“Oh I just remembered: I got a part time job as message boy in McCulloch’s fish shop. I was 12, and there was an older guy there called Curly. One day we got a delivery of salmon in, and Curly must have arranged to sneak one and throw it over the side wall to his mate. Sergeant Fulton must’ve saw his pal who ran off, but lo and behold, over came the salmon. Curly shouted over, Got it? He got a muffled reply, Yes. Two minutes later the sarge walked in to the shop with the salmon! Curly was sacked but not charged “
And a few days later, after the Carnival, there was fireworks and a band promenade that was broadcast on the BBC to great acclaim. And the Sports Committee had the chance to reflect and celebrate the activities’ great success – 25,000 people enjoyed the events, 8,000 to each of the big events. (Is 8,000 a big number of visitors? It sounds a bit small to me?)
Photographs above, of the carnival in 1932, with the Cunninghams (the family of the town clerk), of Misses Fairley and Butler as a Spanish couple. And below, of Portrush belles old and new, and the monstrosity of Loch Ness trundling through the streets.
Helena A writes: “Isn’t that just wonderful. 1935, and the town was buzzing. Carnival was a big thing. I was entered for them all in the 50’s. My Mother loved getting me dresses up… Rose of Tralee… Doll in a box… Queen of the North. And do you remember sitting on the hill at Recreation Grounds watching the fireworks? They which always ended with fireworks displaying, ‘Good night!’
Happiness at the seaside at Portrush. Postcards of the time from Sheila Brown’s collection are of bliss, happy, holidaymaking. There’s postcards in the 1930s, swimming in the harbour with the big diving boards used for swimming galas, the bustle of the train station and the Town Hall and of Eglinton St. and the trams…..
In the wider scheme of things though, I’d say that 1935 was the turning year, the end of bliss and happiness and holiday feeling. Times are changing. King George V celebrated his silver jubliee in 1935, the new king, Edward VII in January 1936, him with Mrs. Simpson, and the year was spent in abdication crisis. Tensions are building internationally too, with Mussolini in Italy, Hirohito in Japan, Adolf in Germany. Things are getting darker, ominous. The 1936 postcard above right, features a warship out in the bay, trying to reassure the populace.
Fancy dress costumes at Portrush carnivals continue to have mickey mices and princesses and Frozen themes but there are also a few poignant ones, of dressing up like Emperor Hirohito, of ‘Ammunitions to Italians’ (I hope they were duds, or were flowers, as Mussolini was busy invading Abyssinia), and in the 1938 carnival, there were costumes of ‘War and Peace’ and ‘Refugees from Shanghai”.
There’s a Hemphill on the left as Brittania, a John Neill as an Atlantic flyer in a wonderful aircraft, and in the centre, as Stephen O’N describes, ‘the picture in the middle is of Billy O’Neill, my uncle – he was the one with all the dogs. Sally Doherty was the sister of Tommy Doherty who was the harbour master.’
Maybe troubles bubbling in the world but for this year in Portrush, 1935, all is well, a great success.
The three big events of mid-August that year – fireworks, then the fancy dress carnival, then the military tattoo – over 25,000 people were entertained, with 8,000 people at each event.
Above Graham & Hepworth, and on the right is Billy Gregg, prize winner with the most original costume.
The processions with the penny farthing, loch ness monsters, aeroplanes, ……… snake their way to the Recreation grounds for the judging, and then process back to Dunluce St.
The caption on the photo below is ‘Portrush Carnival, 1935’ , with Sergeant Fulton on the left; on the right is “‘This way please’ – a comic policemen (was that a cariciature of Sgt. Fulton’s height?) found time to direct one of the competitors on a ‘bedstead bike’ to Ramore Head’
So, TWO big carnivals that year, in July and then in August. So, in which one is Sgt. Fulton leading the procession? I thought the time on the station clock might be a guide but both parades started at 3pm; and both started from Dunluce St.; and both had military band leading the procession.
The weather? Well it is described as ‘ideal’ for the July carnival, but August’s is described above as quite a blustery day; in the Carnival parade photo with the Sergeant they are wearing floppy hats and things, so I assume that it is nicer calmer weather one so I will plump that the photo is of Wednesday, July 17th, 1935.
And there’s the Misseys Grey on the left, and the Stewart boys as ‘Toilers of the Deep’.
My Belfast Telegraph delivery route in the 1970s went from our house in the middle of Croc-na-mac, down towards Rodney St. and Hopefield and Coleraine roads……. I still know the rhythm of the house numbers to deliver to: 36, 32, 26, 22, …….. – and then round over to Ballywillan and Bushmills roads, before home via the other end of Croc-na-mac.
The penultimate house delivery was to Sgt. Fulton at No. 96. He was a very tall man – maybe like my dad (Sgt. Martin), or Louie Craig down around the harbour, big men, big police men, that as kids one didn’t mess with and would cross the road to avoid meeting. Sgt. Fulton had retired twenty years before my teenage years and nicely I knew him as always giving me good ‘Christmas box’ tips, and so I always made the point of calling at his house to collect the weekly paper money, just before Christmas.
The photographs above show two Portrush, station sergeants: on the left is my dad, Sgt. Martin, station sergeant 1960 to 1984 (see blog on his life); and on the right is Sgt. Fulton, station sergeant earlier, 1933 to 1953 years. Their stories are similar: farming background, joined the police, promotion, various postings, then settling to over twenty years as station sergeant at Portrush, family life, retirement and grandchildren. The photo below is of Sgt. Fulton, retired, with his wife Margaret, outside their home on Croc-na-mac, Portrush, in 1967 with his McCallum grandchildren.
The grandson at the right of the above photo is Roger McCallum. A family friend, he stayed at their house in his young years, and he writes up the story…..:
Roger begins: “On the cusp of achieving ‘three score years and ten, one’s mind sometimes wanders back towards days gone by…..
“I entered this world via the Mary Rankin Maternity Hospital in Coleraine in 1953, a mere pit stop en route to 96 Croc-na-mac Road, Portrush, the home of my grandparents Sergeant Robert Fulton – aka ‘The Sergeant’ – and his wife Margaret. At that time my parents were travelling regularly to the Sudan, so for the first four years of my existence, Portrush provided the backdrop to my young life. And the influence of ‘The Sergeant’ was pivotal.
the Fulton family, at the farm in Malin
To tell his story, my grandfather, Robert Millar Fulton, was born on a farm near Malin Town, Co. Donegal, on the headland over the bay from Portrush, on the 23rd February 1897. The farm overlooked the beautiful Trawbreaga Bay, close to the Five Finger Strand.
Life on the farm, but with an older brother set to inherit the farm, Robert struck out and joined the Royal Irish Constabulary on the 17th January 1917. The police records describe his previous occupation as ‘Farmer’, that he was a Presbyterian, and that he was, very precisely, six foot and one and one eighth inches tall!
Sgt. Fulton trained with the RIC, at their training depot at Phoenix Park in Dublin and completed there in 1921. The photograph was for a 1921 Christmas card, perhaps of their passing out ceremony. That was one of the last such RIC events: the backdrop of the times were the civil war in Ireland, the truce of July 1921, the partition of Ireland, the disbanding of the RIC and the formation of the Gardai and of the Royal Ulster Constabulary, the RUC as the police services in the divided Ireland.
Constable Fulton transfered over to the RUC at its inception on the 1st June 1922. Subsequent postings were all around Co. Antrim, first at Toomebridge and then Ballyclare. He was quickly promoted to Sergeant, in 1925. The News Letter of December 1933 announced his next posting, from Ballyclare to Portrush. He quickly made his presence known and in 1934 he was being awarded a Favourable Record for ‘Zeal and tact re. Housebreaking and Larceny cases’, as burglaries were referred to in those days! He looks suitably pleased and comfortable, in the photo of him that year. Interestingly, the photo was taken at L’Atelier studio on Main St. in Portrush. He was the station sergeant at Portrush for the rest of his career, the next 20 years.
Earlier, after the minimum five years service, he had married Margaret Corbett in 1926, and had two children, Joan (McCallum (my mum)) and Olive (Mckeague). At Portrush they lived in the same Croc-na-mac Rd house through his years of police service and retirement, as four grandchildren came along: Roger (this writer), Hilary and Richard McCallum, and Peter McKeague. The 1967 photo below shows him, then retired, outside that family home, with his wife Margaret and their McCallum grandchildren, with 14-year old me on the right.
Of his police work at Portrush, I have been told that Sergeant Fulton ruled the town in a ‘firm but fair’ manner. Young people who were caught ‘misbehaving’ were brought back to their parents accompanied with, at the very least, a firm verbal warning about what would happen of they were caught again! Fred Williams writes, “He caught me and two friends down in the sand pit – where the primary school is now – throwing stones at milk bottles, that we had taken from somebody’s front door, We ran away, but he yelled at us to stop, that he knew every one of us. When he came over to us, the first thing he asked was our names and that he would tell our parents!!!”
The newspaper cuttings below show some of his contributions to town life and safety and enjoyment. A pity for the kids who got in to trouble just for skating on thin ice!
And John McNally writes,”Ahhh Sgt. Fulton!! He was the bane of our lives, growing up at the north end of the peninsula. We used to play regular football games on Lansdowne Green, which for some reason was prohibited by the PUDC. We used to post look-outs at each end of the green and when the Sgt was spotted we would disperse only to return again after he left. “Well done for this excellent account, of the life of a man who haunted my youthful dreams when I was part of the Harbour Gang.”
The wonderful photograph above, is of Sgt. Fulton supervising the Portrush Carnival procession, on its way to the recreation grounds, with bands and fancy costumes and other activities for the day – in 1935! The train station in the background. He regularly attended there to see who was coming into his jurisdiction, and he often ensured some of them had a quick return journey back to wherever they had come! Alan McFadden remembers him as a big man who stood no nonsense, and of a train full of ‘Teddy boys’ coming down from Belfast for an Easter Monday frolic at Portrush, but that Sgt. Fulton was at the station and would not let them through the platform gates but made them get on the outward bound train,
And Alan, “A story is of, during the war years when St. Patrick’s Hall in Causeway Street was the Palladium, a dance hall, and a fight broke out with some American soldiers involved. Sgt Fulton weighed in and laid out one of the soldiers. The next day he sought out the soldier and apologised to him, stating that the soldier was well within his rights to report him, but that the soldier said that he himself deserved it as he had started the fight.”
1930s photographs, found only yesterday in Roger’s attic – photos have not been seen or shown before! Left: photo caption says, “NW200, patrolling at Metropole corner”, and right: “Sgt. Fulton with Mr. Cunningham” (Sheila Brown recognises him as the Town Clerk)
Paperwork at the police station was kept to a minimum [Sgt. Martin commented on the lack of records when he started as Sgt. in 1961, and brought in a new discipline]. Pauline Rigby remembers that, “Dad was in the air force, stationed in Cyprus in the early 1950s when war broke out with Turkey. He was called up to go, with only 24 hours notice. His car was parked by the Electricity Board showroom but the car tax ran out while he was away. A young policeman spotted it and left a ticket. “Dad was the only driver, mum knew nothing about road tax, and she got in touch with Sgt Fulton. The next thing, Sgt. Fulton appeared at our front door with the young policeman. Sgt Fulton barked at him, ‘Mr. Hunt is away in service of the country: when he gets home he will sort his car out. In the meantime, apologise to Mrs Hunt, and tear the bloody ticket up. And that car will stay there until his return.'” That was the poor young policeman torn to shreds, and the ticket also – and one less bit of paperwork to deal with.
And Pauline continues, “I remember my aunt telling the story that they and friends would meet in the troc restaurant, the Trocadero, every afternoon during the winter time for a cuppa and a chat. One day Sgt Fulton appeared and said, ‘Miss McCounity (Kitty), could you please pull your car a little bit out so cars can pass you on both sides off the street!’ It was two way traffic then.”
Bobby Ann: “Yes indeed, I knew Sgt. Fulton as a customer in Blair’s shop, in his retirement years. But earlier times he was the Sgt in my husband’s time. He used to clip them around the ear if they misbehaved. My husband & his friends used to bounce on a hedge on Ballywillan Rd. One day they were doing it & Sgt Fulton popped out & they ran away. He chased them over the golf hills & caught them and clashed their ears – they never did it again. When I was in hospital his wife was in the next bed. He spent more time talking to me than his wife. I remember that he was very kind, a real gentleman, to be honest.”
Sergeant Fulton lost all of his hair early in life – in the photos above left, in his late twenties, he is getting thin on top, and is covered with a cap in his retirement years – with the result that he was sometimes affectionately referred to as ‘Baldy’, although I suspect, never to his face! And having been the virtual ‘Sheriff’ of Portrush for so many years, Robert was well known to many of the business community and broader society. In his book, ‘Fun Is Our Business: The Story of Barry’s Amusements’, James Fairley writes, in relation to the 9pm curfew being placed on people of Italian origin during the Second World War, “When Sergeant Fulton … first informed Frank Trufelli of the curfew regulation, Frank protested that … he usually went to the cinema on Saturday night, and that it was unreasonable to expect him to leave with the main feature scarcely underway. So the Sergeant agreed to go with him, which he did on a regular basis and they became firm friends.”
Real community policing: knew everyone, knew how to deal with bad parking, with young miscreants, knew who to look out for and who to not allow in to the town. And over his 37 years of service, Sgt. Fulton was awarded a King’s Silver Jubilee Medal in 1935, the Police Long Service and Good Conduct Medal in 1938, and the Queen Elizabeth Coronation Medal in 1953.
The photo, above centre, shows Sgt. Fulton in 1953, approaching retirement. Then, on reaching the RUC age limit of 57, he retired on the 22nd February 1954, described as the senior sergeant in the Province.
(A younger brother, Andrew, the above right photo, followed Robert into the RIC. and was Head Constable of the RUC in Coleraine when he retired, a year after Robert. Andrew and his wife Florrie lived in a bungalow on the Atlantic Road, Portrush and had two children. His medals over the years included the Constabulary Medal (Ireland) for the defence of Clara Barracks, Offaly, when it was attacked in June 1920 whilst he was still a trainee.)
Photographs show Sgt. Fulton as a family man, delighting in his children and family. Retirement brought new opportunities: his eldest daughter Joan (my mum) had married in 1952 – the L’Atelier photo above, in the Strand or Kil-an-Oge, with the traditional flying geese in the background. Sgt. Fulton is there on the right – and his first grandchild, that’s me, appeared in 1953. My dad was an expert in potato seed cultivation, working for the Imperial Civil Service and the Ministry of Agriculture, and traveled regularly to Sudan – hence I stayed with Sgt. Fulton at Portrush for my first years, the first years of his retirement.
And harking back to his roots on the farm at Malin, he also cultivated a couple of allotments for vegetables and fruit in the Glenmanus area of Portrush, produce which he sold to greengrocers in the Port.
In the 1950’s and 60’s, the pre-Troubles era, Portrush benefitted from many visitors from Great Britain, particularly Scotland, and Sgt. Fulton worked at Fawcett’s Royal Hotel in Portrush as a driver, tour guide and doorman. and would regularly ferry tourists to and from the ships in Larne. Fred Williams remembers, ‘Fawcett’s had one of their mini-vans up for repair in the garage where I worked and I was told to take the van back down to Fawcett’s, and to make sure the Sgt drove me back. That was an education! He put the window down and shouted at all the visitors in the Main Street to get :::::: out of the way. He was a real character.’
His knowledge of his home county of Donegal made him the ideal tourist guide for day trips to that area. And his imposing frame and ‘local knowledge’ meant that he had the ideal attributes to be a successful doorman at the many dances and other events that took place at the Royal Hotel. Names that I recall from that era were Stanley Harper, Donny and Jo May and, of course, Jack and Elsie Fawcett. Indeed at various times I had summer employment myself as dishwasherupper at the Royal Hotel, and as night porter at the Lismara and at the Strand in Portstewart.
Left: “Photo at Aughrim, Magherafelt – his wife’s home place, 1970s, with herself and siblings. The Sergeant is balancing precariously on the cart – even so, he has a dapper pocket handkerchief on display! I never remember him doing ‘casual’!” And right, at Portrush, west strand promenade
He called into Barry’s several times a week for a coffee with whoever was about in the office, whether it be ‘old’ Frank Trufelli, Frank junior or Louisa. No doubt he would share his observations in relation to security, crime trends and ‘persons of interest’. And Tommy Woods was a taxi driver mainly based in Station Square that the Sergeant called in to see, along with a ‘cobbler’ in Causeway Street (Mr Nimmock?).
The Sergeant’s Sunday morning routine was to listen to ‘The Archers’ omnibus edition on the radio before heading up Causeway Street to the Presbyterian Church, arriving about 40 minutes early to ensure that his regular pew, three up on the right hand side, had not been occupied by strangers or tourists! And after church, straight back to Number 96 for lunch.
My parents eventually ‘reclaimed’ me from Portrush in 1957 and we moved to Gilnahirk, a suburb of Belfast. But I continued to visit No. 96 and ‘The Sergeant’ every Easter and summer throughout the 60’s and 70’s, and worked in the town during school and university holidays, in both Fawcetts and Barry’s.
Upon leaving Uni in 1976 I, like the good man himself, joined the police. The photo below left is me as handsome young Inspector, 1987; centre, as dapper retiree, 2020; and right, visiting the Garda Training Centre in Tipperary, 1998.
The photo below shows my grandad, Sergeant Robert Fulton, and me. (For interest, I am 6’2”; he was 6’1” and an eighth.) On the left is him, in 1953, just prior to his retirement; on the right, is me as a Superintendent, outside Ballymoney RUC Station. That photo is on the last day of the RUC, 3rd November 2001. So just as my grandfather experienced the transformation from the RIC to the RUC, so I experienced the transformation from the RUC to the PSNI.
My grandfather, Sergeant Fulton, passed away on the 12th November 1981, at the age of 84, and is buried at Ballywillan Cemetery, a location which, like his place of birth, overlooks the Atlantic Ocean.
The photos above, in the 1930s, he is with his family, proud of them – but he is in uniform in all the photos, always on duty. A station sergeant in Portrush, maybe like other policemen at times working 12 hours and more in a day, maybe just a quick break at lunch to get home and see the family and visitors.
For me, ‘The Sergeant’, or “Man’ as I called him when learning to speak, was seminal to my development. Having missed a lot of the growing up time with his own young family, and maybe especially not having had any sons himself, then as a grandfather in his retirement I believe he delighted in pushing me in my ‘Silver Cross’ style pram around the Port, introducing me to all the local characters. We stopped off at Barrys, the Royal Hotel, Toner’s newsagent, the White House, Lundy’s Fruit and Vegetable, Ross’s tobacconist to buy his favourite tobacco St Bruno, the Arcadia, the Stairway restaurant and Phil’s Amusements. He had morphed successfully from being a police officer into being a doting grandfather, and I appreciated and so enjoyed and valued the times spent with him.”
Sheila Kane reviews this write-up and comments, ‘I love this! What a beautiful, informative, readable account of a man whom I knew only by reputation and the memories of others.’ Even though Sgt. Fulton’s active police service was probably long before your consciousness, still, what a character! and we can tell stories of him of forty or sixty or eighty years ago, and the values and behaviours that he promoted stay wth us.
Margaret McMullan says, “My late father-in-law Bobby and his brother Albert and John McMullan fished on the MVV ‘Family Friend’ – my husband Trevor worked on the oil rigs but if he was home or his work got slack then he often helped out. I remember waking up one morning to find a lobster climbing up my bed !!!! “Needless to say we had lobster for tea that night. It nearly broke my heart though putting it into boiling water.”
The rafts at the harbour, the RAF boats, the fishing trawlers – all at the edge of my memory, and I am not sure if I am remembering them or just photographs and postcards of them. So, thank you to the folks who have contributed to this social history of the fishing fleet and of the Portrush men and their families at Portrush.
The previous blogs looked at the centuries of fishing in the waters around Portrush, and then of the attempt to make the harbour the base for deep-sea steam trawlers in the 1930s. But the fish shoals were elusive, the weather changeable, the markets fickle – times of gluts of fish that were unsellable and times unable to get the fish that people wanted, at the right quantities, to the right markets. The expected fifty trawlers a week just didn’t happen.
And the big deep-sea steam trawlers were stripping the sea of livelihoods. Even back in 1930, Portrush’s John Stewart’s highlighted the trawlers depleting fish stocks, and that only by fishing within the Skerries could he make a living.
Kerry Gregg writes, “The big development of the harbour never happened of course, its a pity but a fact that there is not much out there to catch now anyway – with modern fishing methods and high quality electronics, we have become too good at catching fish. “I love the old photo of the steam powered trawler alongside the quay. They were a common sight in Fleetwood and other big fishing ports around England, but I suspect they were a rarity in Portrush.”
Tourism and the seaside air took higher priority, and visitors to Portrush in the 1930s “will find hours of interest in the magic of little coasting steamers and salt-crusted deep sea trawlers.” For the townie visitor, trawlers were perhaps a curiousity, photogenic, an unusual an infrequent and unusual sight – but they were the essence, the life-blood, the heart and soul of the town.
Wartime and restrictions and I don’t see any reports of that time. The fishing fleet from ports like Portrush were one of the key food supplies for the nation, and I assume the trawlers were armed and on the lookout for submarines recce’ing the coast. The photo above by Jack McConaghy (courtesy Raymond McConaghy) is “Harbour at War”, 1939 or 1940 – before the arctic convoys started and photographing of vessels in the harbour become a traitorious thing to do.
Ken Mcallister, a bit older than me, writes, “I remember 1943, when the fishing boats arrived in and berthed under the bins. My grandfather used to ask if they had any wee dabs, and he got the nickname “Dabbler” from Spud Fleming – so that’s why I am called ‘young Dabber’.
And Ken continues, “I used to live at the bottom of Kerr St, Quarry Court. We used to wait for the horses and carts going around the harbour. Most times there was a spillage of course, and we happened to have a bucket handy to collect the coal. Butch Fleming used to spook the horse so we got quite a lot. 1944 was a good year.”
Painting courtesy Eleanor Bond, the caption reads, “MVV Family Friend, Portrush 1955, skipper Bobby McMullan, crew Albert McMullan & John McMullan” and Eleanor says, “This is a painting that a man in Portavogie did for us – where the boat originally came from.”
Sheila Brown: “Hi David, I have just looked at the blog. You have done a lot of research, its a great read. Before my time but a lot of names I know. When we came to Portrush in 1943, there were two big McMullan fishermen.
“Later on, in the 1950s, the clammers came to the harbour. We used to sit and watch the boats unloading every evening, about five boats, and lorries loading up with the clams. I used hundreds of clam shells making ornaments to sell in ‘The Shell Shop’ that I had on Main Street opposite the White House. They were popular presents to take home from Portrush. Those were the days David, maybe a slow way to riches but I enjoyed it. “My late husband loved the harbour, with Richard McKay the harbour master at that time. “Thank you for the wonderful history of Portrush, God bless Sheila”
Karen Monteith says, “Oh I’m liking this story more and more! And I think I may have bought a fair few of Sheila’s clam shells too maybe with a little disc of soap inside, I always thought they were very fancy x”
September 1957 and the newspaper article reports that the fishing fleet is now eight boat strong, and that they fish locally, in the Bann or Foyle, not further – and shush! do be quiet as at this moment the crews are sleeping, after being out all-night fishing.
The photo below left (sorry about poor quality) is news of another Portrush trawler, the ‘Aigh Vie’ – from left to right is John Colvin, John Wilson, Douglas McMullan and George Stewart, skippered by Robert Stewart and owned by R. Lynas. The photo is of them landing a record catch of almost 4 tons of grey mullet, at Portrush harbour, in March 1958.
The hard treacherous pretty scary part to me of fishing is the being out-at-sea, and then getting the fish onto the quayside. But the success of fishing as a business seems to depend on logistics – keeping the catch fresh / frozen, and getting the catch to markets. In the 1958 article below, the harbour-master John Doherty moans of the lack of freezing facilities at Portrush that would enable the catch to go to Scotland. I guess that shows the failure of the 1930s hopes of local catches, local port and processing facilities, and of getting the fish to local markets.
The Portrush fishing fleet is described then in 1958 as 20-odd fishermen, that’s sounds like about five trawlers, but the harbour looks pretty quiet in the photo below.
1950s, Portrush harbour
Ray McConaghy: “Great post David . Another name I remember was a youngster – well, same age as me – called Billy McLelland. I think his family were fishermen in the 50’s and 60’s?”
I see the name of another Portrush trawler, ‘Confide’, above, with ownership the same as for the big record catch sailing, with Robert Lynas of Coleraine with skipper John Wilson. It was October, late in the season, and this boat was the only one that ventured out that day – with the alarm raised and the lifeboat called out for its overdue return.
Wow all these newspaper reports and photos happened in 1958! It was a busy year. The photos above, courtesy Pete Doherty, with a newspaper caption, “Mr Doherty, his two sons and two brothers own between them the £1,500 Queen Elizabeth, which carries nearly 60 passengers a time round the Skerries and along the north Antrim coast.”
Eleanor Bond: “I’m sure you know Willie Gregg (left) was a great boat builder,” and Kerry Gregg adds: “My grandfather Willie Gregg beside dad’s boat, in 1965, at Quarry Court. And the photo with the three generations of Gregg is my brother Willie, my dad Billy, and my grandfather Willie, in June 1958.”
Janis B: “Thank you for this. We lived in Quarry Court at the harbour until we all were re-housed. So far from theharbour, it was very difficult for fishermen who’d been around the harbour all their lives. One retired man – Tommy M or was it McM – walked down to the harbour every day after breakfast, up for lunch, back down, up for tea. I used to watch him back and forth across the football pitch and to the harbour, no matter the weather.”
Trawlers in the harbour – 1960s? The painting of the McMullan ‘Fisherman’s Friend’ identifies it as ‘B79’, that’s registered in Belfast at that time, and the ones here registered as ‘CE’ is Coleraine.
Ian King: “Interesting to see John McMullan in the picture. There were (at least) two John McMullans in Portrush in the 60s. One was married to Rose so was called Rose’s John, to avoid confusion. As a child I often wondered why a man’s name would be mixed up with roses. It was much later I realised the more prosaic truth. I never did find out which was which (in person). “He was good for me: my Dad arranged with Rose’s John to let me borrow his tender for the fishing boat when he wasn’t using it. I used to spend hours and days rowing around the harbour and yes, ferrying RAF sailors ashore for a shilling. Happy days. Truly happy. Cheers, Ian.”
And photo below left, smaller fishing boats, for closer to shore fishing. Left, from Pete D: “The big mullet haul” – I asssume this is the March 1958 bounty, as described above? And John McN comments: “You can tell by the smile on the face of the man looking at the camera that this is a very good day’s fishing! I think he is Old Tommy Doherty and the man immediately to his left is young Tommy Doherty.” and from Stephen O’N, “That’s my dad at the back, Mack O’Neil, he’s the one wearing a wee hat” Pete D: “All the local fishermen were involved. In that pic is Dad, my great uncle Tommy (‘Snowball’), my Uncle Jimmy, & looks like Jimmy Stewart.”
And, above right, photo passed on from George Lavery, who writes, “Salmon fisheries boat landing their catch – they averaged a catch of over 90 a day, in the 1960s / 70s,” and John adds, “I think the man is Spud Fleming – though don’t know who the young boy is.” Lucy S: “I have a copy of the photo of my granda Jimmy ‘Spud’ Fleming and that young boy – I never found out who he was. I remember when we lived in Hamilton Place, the crabs would have got out of the sacks and walked up the tiled floor in the long scullery. I remember that noise vividly lol. Thank you for sharing these stories David. L.“ Stephen O’N adds, “….the boy with Spud is my cousin from Australia, his name is Shaun O’Neill, and that photo was taken in 1970.” Kerry G: “It was 13th July 1970, and that photo is of my father Billy Gregg’s boat with 155 head of salmon in it, caught in the Ramore hill salmon bag net, that dad leased from Lord Antrim at the salmon fisheries, from 1968 to 1981. The boat was one of many that Billy built over the years, and yes indeed it is wee Spud who was helping dad to box up the catch, and then they were pulled up the quayside wall and into our shed – No.3, before the council saw fit to knock them all down. The fish would be collected by Sean Morton from Ballycastle who would call in his lorry on his rounds around all the salmon fishermen on the north coast, then those same fish would be iced down and be for sale in Billingsgate Fish Market the next day.” and the power of the internet, “I love these pics, I’m the 8 year old Shaun O’Neill from Australia with Spud Fleming (an absolute legend) – such great memories “
And George Lavery shows his painting skills too: “I am working on this painting of the lifeboat being towed back up the slipway.” 1960s? David Patton writes: “Another great history David that you have dug up! and nice to see other paintings too of boats. And tell George to get that painting finish, it is too good not to. !! Well done to you too, for your hard work. “
Kellie M: “Thank you, I really enjoyed reading it. So many names synonymous with the Port…. names from my childhood too as my dad was a marine engineer and we spent many long days in the harbour (and harbours all around ireland) while he worked on boats.”
Margaret: “Hi David, I hope you can use this painting of our boat, with Albert McMullan at the wheel, Bobby McMullan standing against the wheelhouse, and Rose’s John with his hands in his pockets,…. Sorry there are not many photos of them – they were all very modest men.”
Margaret McMullan: “I remember when Trevor was helping out fishing salmon, we weren’t long married and uncle Albert used to knock us up for we always slept in . Later when I took a walk down the harbour he’d be sitting mending a fishing net in the huts. There was always someone around the harbour that you knew. I can still remember the smell of the bait barrel! So many happy memories of living at the harbour!
“I remember waking up one morning to find a lobster climbing up my bed !!!! Needless to say we had lobster for tea that night. It nearly broke my heart putting it into boiling water.”
Brian S: “I used to meet the McMullan trawler every morning to get the small flukes to use as bait for our lobster pots. My means of transport was a message bike with a carrier over the front wheel. The trawler was normally crewed by Albert operating the engine throttle at the bow and Bobby steering and John throwing the rope ashore.”
Caroline Dorsett writes, “Brilliant David, I got totally lost in it! Photos are fantastic. I remember dad filling some of the boats with fuel and being given huge (well they seemed huge to a child) bags of lobster. We wondered why the dog was acting strangely one night and wouldn’t come in. He had found one of the lobsters making its way down the garden, having escaped from the bag and ultimately the pot. Dad then took it down to the rocks and released it, saying it had earned its freedom after its encounter with the dog! “And I remember the fishing competitions later with massive conger eels being hung up to view. Is it any wonder that I’m not a fan of swimming in the sea – its got bits in. Sometimes big bits! Great stuff David.”
Eleanor Bond: “David, this is my dad, John McMullan, with the cap, and Kenneth McMullan, sitting on the big stone at the side of the shed that used to be near the bridge many years ago.” And Margaret continues, “It was sad day though when they took the huts away – it was the meeting place, the talking place, where the fishermen met and watched the weather to decide if it was suitable to set sail.”
The photograph above of the harbour in 1960s shows a smaller fleet, now, only four trawlers. David Patton writes, “The photograph and the painting of the four fishing boats is the harbour as I remember it. Looking back at the Dock Head wall with the big billboard, Minihan’s shop and of course part of the old Ramore street. The Harbour Bar, the old wooden shed at the railway crossing bridge that always smelled of tar. Across the bridge there was a pub that belonged to a Kitty Quinn. I can remember as a wee boy looking for my father: I would look in the pub to see if he was there and if he was, he would put me up on a stool and treated me to a glass of Club orange.”
And below, “My brother Torney took a photo of the fishing boat as it arrived at the harbour, in 1968, and that was the inspiration for my painting it. Torney knew two of the men on that boat, Richard McKay and Jimmy Stewart.”
And Margaret McMullan continues: “We used to get quite a lot of prawns when the boats called in – we were eating like royals and never appreciated it at the time! Lovely salmon in the salmon season, and now I have to buy it and it never tastes as good as it did then. Monkfish boiled in milk and onions and some times made into scampi .
“I remember you had to hang the monkfish to bleed it; Trevor hung it out at the bottom of the clothes line, but a neighbour came to my door and said, ‘I don’t want you to get a fright but someone has hung a nasty thing on your line.’
David Patton writes, “Again, all credit to you David, I love reading your writing, you have captured a time in history that could have been long lost.”
Fishing, always peaceful and happy? Rather a valuable and scarce resource, and stocks and fishing rights have been managed for centuries. to be managed, and poachers and over-fishers dealt with. Above left is 1950 and the Fleetwood trawler has been fishing off Portrush and Portstwart for 9 days, then sails over to Donegal but is attacked by three motor boats, with 20 irate Irish fishermen in each, with the cabin sprayed with bullets! Centre right, 1970, a Donegal trawler caught by a Royal Navy, fisheries protection boat, for illegal fishing off Portrush, withpunishmens of fines and nets confiscated. And right, salmon wars of early 1980s, with a couple of fisheries protection vessels against an armada of Donegal trawlers, fishing just off the Portrush coast. From early June, three months of the salmon running to the rivers, with some successes of trhe protection vessels like with impounding a drift net that was an enormous 4 miles long, but puny against the increasing size and commercial aggression of the larger trawlers being used.
In the 1960s there were royal air force boats stationed in the harbour, as support vessels for RAF Ballykelly as described in the blog ‘Leander House girls and RAF lads‘, informally helping the fishing fleet in rescues though not as protection vessels.
As we have seen, the big plan for Portrush harbour as headquarters of a fishing fleet back in the 1930s came to naught. Another innovation for harbour commercial activity in the 1960s though, was as a container depot, with the quayside developed with big cranes for hoisting containers onto ships:
Above left, photo courtesy Pete Doherty: ‘The photo says on the back ‘Jimmy Doherty, harbour-master, with Captain Jones of the MV Wirral Coast. The container service commenced on 13th September 1963. Closed down 15th June 1968. Jimmy Doherty died on 3rd May 1968.’ He was harbour master before my dad, but tragically died at the age of 47 I think.” The activity traded for 5 years, but I guess the size of and access into the harbour went against the location.
Arthur D: “My grandfather Arthur Dunlop was the foreman docker at the harbour in the ‘sixties when the container ships came in. He came hone every night with a bag of fish. He loved the job and the fishermen who he became friends with. I remember him mentioning the Doherty’s.”
Complementing the trawlers out at sea, Joe Mullan was promoting sea angling. The photo caption above reads, “Fisherman Joe Mullan, Chairman of the Ulster Federation of Sea Anglers, who travels far and wide for the sport. He is a Master Angler and an Irish Boat and Shore International.”
Garry McI:lwaine: “I was a regular at Joe Mullan’s fishing tackle shop on Main St. As a youngster, any walk “down the street” would include a diversion to Joe’s. “Outside I’d drool over the line of rods and reels in his window. (I’d seen them many times but the sin of coveting is deep-set!) “Inside, there was always a welcome from Joe. When three or four of us wandered into other shops like Graham’s or The White House, we always got that feeling that eyes were on us! Not with Joe. He was always engaging. He loved telling us about his black and white photos and stories behind them. He said that he’d love one of us to earn a species specimen badge. We always tried to find out where the best place to dig for rag worms was. He’d have two answers: it was a secret he’d never tell anyone, or he dug them at night so nobody would would find his place! That was Joe… especially as we’d often see him collecting his “fresh worms” from the platform at the railway station!”
The Belfast Telegraph’s Peter McMullan, writing about his day of plentiful fishing in July 1968. The trip was prompted by Joe Mullan and hosted by Jimmy Stewart (left in the photo) on the Girl Phyllis, Jimmy taking a break from sleeping after his day job of night shift of drift-netting for salmon. Mr Mullan’s efforts led to investment by Coleraine Council on the slipway and facilities. The article writes about 30 boats exclusively for sea angling, with over 300 sea anglers a week visiting Portrush.
Going back to the trawlers, Margaret continues, “My late father-in-law Bobby and his brother Albert McMullan and John McMullan known as Roses John fished the Family Friend – my husband Trevor worked on the oil rigs, but if he was home or his work got slack then he often helped out. The fished local waters but it depended what they were fishing as to what time they fished.
Er, why Roses John? Eleanor Bond replies, “My father’s mother was called Rose, so he was referred to as Rose’s John – that’s how they referred to the different McMullans.”
Margaret, I ask, what happened when the boat arrved back at Portrush with their catch? “Well, there would have a buyer for their fish waiting on them at the quayside. Then, the boat was cleaned and nets were sorted for their next trip. During salmon season their nets, drift nets, could be seen spread out on poles to dry, at the harbour. There were nets, they were fixed nets, that were hung at the salmon fishery as well.”
David Patton: “My brother Terry, with nets spread out on the old railway crossing at the harbour, 1960s, with the fishing boats, four, in the harbour.”
Kerry Gregg writes: “I was lucky enough to get out fishing on the “Family Friend “ with Bobby, Albert and John. I was about 10 at the time, I was out many times and always on a Saturday morning or on the school holidays. We lived at the bottom of Kerr Street so it was just a short walk over the bridge to the quayside I would ask Albert the day before and set an alarm for 4am and away we would go, usually over to the area around the temple at Downhill and they would “shoot” the nets and ropes – the method was called seine netting. I would sit behind the wheel house and watch for the net to be brought up and the catch sorted into size and then into wooden fish boxes, that was repeated a few times then they would steam home and land the catch.
“I still remember after 55 years the tea that was served! Loose tea, sugar, milk all in the same pot and heated up – little washing up to do! Looking back on it now I was more of a hindrance than help but Bobby, Albert and John were the best of people, all very decent and they put up with me and my thousand questions about fishing.Such wonderful people and times.”
Time moves on though. Margaret tells me of the retirement of the McMullan family and then that the Family Friend boat was sold in 1974. “I never had a run out on it myself”, she says, but I used to get out on the lifeboat when they had a special day for flag sellers. My late father-in-law Bobby McMullan was cox’n.”
Interviewed in 1975, below, Tommy Doherty comments, “..out of a fine fleet of fishing vessels only one remains, because there isn’t much left in that part of the coastline to fish for”, and the too-quiet harbour is put up for sale:
“The present owners, Anglo-Irish Transport, a subsidiary of P&O, want to get rid of something that isn’t making any money….. For the present harbour-master, Tommy Doherty, it may mean the end of a job that he has held for 6 years. In fact, Tommy’s family have been connected with the harbour since the ‘Forties. His father was harbour-master and when he died, his son Jimmy took over. He died suddenly in 1968 and Tommy was given the job.”
Three big men of the harbour: Louie Craig, Tommy Doherty (Harbour-master) with Billy Gregg (boatbuilder / Willie Gregg’s father), about 1997.
Trish Gray: “David I remember so many of the names in this post. Bobby McMullan was such a lovely person, kind and gentle. Jimmy Stewart (coxswain of the lifeboat after Bobby, I think) had a small fishing boat – The Lady Phyllis, I think! Jimmy used to allow us ‘Lifeboat kids’ access to his rowing boat – Ian King, Dorma & Alan Cunningham, my brother Martin, myself and I suspect many others. I seem to recall Ian saying he used to ferry some of the RAF crew to the other side of the harbour!
“I laughed about Butch spooking the horses during the war and collecting the dropped coal! I remember coming home from high school, to a black bin bag on the kitchen floor, making strange noises – lobsters! Like Margaret McMullan says, we were living like lords and didn’t realise it!
“I remember huge conger eels being landed near the high diving board! I was very glad though, that no-one suggested we should have it for dinner!
“One year when I was heading back to Edinburgh, 1980, my Dad got up at 5am to meet Jimmy Stewart coming in to the harbour, and got a salmon. That salmon got well packed in ice, wrapped in a black bag, and put in my suitcase. You can imagine the face of the airport security guard, searching my case. They let me through with it – with hindsight, I’m surprised it wasn’t confiscated… I haven’t tasted salmon like it since!”
Evening glow, Portrush harbour and west strand (photo: author)
Pauline Rigby: “Oh David, you have brought tears to my eyes! FYI My side note: my dentist here in Scarborough remembers the likes of Butch Fleming and Dessie, and his brother has a yacht in Portrush harbour now! Its a small world! His assistant laughs at the pair off us when I go for treatment and a check up (a catch up!) 😂😂xx
And finally, the photo below, one of my Portrush summer holidays, 2013, 10pm at the harbour, seeing the unloading of the catch of cod and the higher-value scallops, and the chinese restaurant up lower main st buying the bucket of scallops. Dessie Stewart there told me, they’ll get a few hours sleep then 4am sailing back across to Scotland.
Time moves on, things change, morph, transform, renewed – hopefully I can do one more blog of today’s geeration of fishing. And as I’ve said before, I don’t go for the Good Ol’ Days view of history myself – after all, in 30 years the kids today will be remembering these days as being the Good Ol’ Days – but rather, the life lessons, the example that these folks gave us, of hard work, modesty, humility, respect – and of hilarious fun and stories.
All the postcards and photographs that I see, like the 1930s one below, Portrush harbour looks pretty quiet, low key, idle, under-used. The Scotch ferries that used to deliver thousands of visitors onto Portrush quayside, stopped at WWI and did not re-start.
So, 1930s, and Portrush is tranquil, lovely, holiday mode.
All that is to end: a quiet harbour no longer. 1932 was going to be the big year, the big turning point. Ten years since the Partition of Ireland and Mr Steven, the Minister of Fish in NI, thinks of the marine and fishing heritage of Portrush, and of the links with the mainland, and proposes a boom, with those links upgraded to an industrial scale – a production line of Scottish and English deep-sea steam trawlers, processing eight a day through Portrush harbour.
“Mr. G. Steven, Inspector of Fish (second from left)”, with ship-owner, skipper, & fish salesmen. Actually I think Mr Steven looks like de Valera – the same tall, lanky imposing – and visionary? With his cunning plan, Portrush will become the headquarters of the north sea fishing fleet (see the last blog), with fifty sea-going steam trawlers a week off-loading their slippery catches on the harbour quayside, for curing and pickling.
“It is part of the scheme between the Ministry of Commerce, the Portrush Urban District Council, and the LM.S (N.C.C.) railway company, to make Portrush an important fishing port,” and, “with thanks to the great cooperation from Portrush Urban District Council, PUDC,” he enthused. His Big Plan was seemingly coming to fruition, with the first boats of the season, the Fraserburgh-based trawler Brecoden, landing its catch at Portrush on February 19th 1932..
The year before, the headlines heralded, “Portrush as a base for the fishing fleet – history repeating itself!” But some reservations, and other headlines, a month later:
“Portrush as herring port?” – read: “Portrush as a herring port???????? Go and boil your heid.” And a ‘reliable authority’ said, the prospect of that happening was remote.
I think the Steven Plan was unravelling, right from the start.
Its impact on tourism? Oh the plan was clarified, downgraded a bit, it was not for Portrush to be a curing centre, with the industrial units that would involve – but just off-loading, barreling, and despatching the fish off to the mainland and elsewhere. And to be sure, Portrush’s primary role was leisure and health, and that lesser fishing activity would not affect that.
We are going to welcome with open arms the sea-going trawlers from Scotland and England, fifty per week, dragging their 400 feet long nets behind them, stripping the seas of fishing livelihood? Portstewart fishermen had already complained about the trawlers at the fishing Inquiry a bit earlier, in 1930. They had won a three mile exclsuion zone around the coast – but the steam trawlers were happily fishing within that zone. Local fisherman would (bravely) approach the intruder trawlers, record their name and number, and pass the informaton to the Ministry – but no action would be taken. Fish stocks were being depleted, even in close to the shore: Portrush’s John Stewart’s complained that he could only make a living at fishing within the confines of the Skerries.
After the trawler Brecoden in mid-Febriuary 1932, Mr Steven expected 15 trawlers during the rest of February, building to fifty a week when the herring season started in April. I suspect that in reality that the pace was rather slower. There was no mention of trawlers or fishing business for the next weeks, and the next news is at the end of March, that more large steam vessels were due to arrive at Portrush on Tuesday:
It was almost a disaster though. The two big trawlers, Ocean Lifebuoy and Ocean Sunlight, were outside the harbour on the Tuesday, but had to wait before entering, because of the sea swell.
A few days late but their arrival on Friday, 1st April, was announced with great success, with their catch being paraded on Portrush quay.
Harbour, slipway at the little beach – 1910s, 2023
The vessels had been stuck out in the bay on the Tuesday, were still stuck there on the Thursday afternoon and then, unable to delay any longer, they had moved off to steam for Moville.
Mr Steven was not well pleased by their lack of appropriate commitment to Portrush as a base. The article says he motored over to Moville and commandeered the pilot boat to take him out to the trawlers. I imagine him berating the trawler captains, beating them mercilessly until they submitted and agreed to steam back to Portrush. They were ‘escorted back to Portrush’ – Mr Steven leading a naval fleet of destroyers, gunships and helicopters to ensure that they did not deviate from the intended route to Portrush.
There were good sales though of the fish though on Portrush quayside:
….and the skippers said they were “more than satisfied with the harbour and the facilities provided.”
The skippers having read out the statement prepared by Mr Steven to the TV cameras, Mr Steven ordered his gang to take off their blindfolds and to untie them, gathered up their fingernails and gave them back to the trawler captains. They were released, otherwise unharmed.
It was hoped their fingernails would soon grow back.
The photo above: “Mr. George Steven, HM Inspector, NI Dept. of Fisheries, discussing operations with the captain at one of the fishing boats.” The photo shows the skipper, doing his best to hide, forcing a sombre grimace of a smile for the camera under the menacing glare of Mr Steven, towering treateningly over him, with his hands, bleeding and bereft of fingernails, buried deeply at the bottom of his great-coat pockets, out of sight of the cameras.
The newspaper photo caption, “Ocean Lifebuoy and Ocean Sunlight, the two trawlers moored at Portrush harbour. Portrush Fisheries Development – drifter trawlers arriving at Portrush, which is ideally suited for the landing of fish” And on the right, “‘Admiral’ Fleming waiting to welcome the trawlers at Portrush” – you may like to say, which Fleming that is of.
I read that routinely, the trawlers followed the shoals to off the cöast of Iceland or to the White Sea – up over the top of Norway and down to Arkangel in the Berents Sea, the coast of Russia – phew what a terrible treacherous journey. The prospects now of trawling in the local fishing gounds, only about 20 miles from Portrush, and the catches landed daily. The fish will be fresher, at better prices without the transport distance and costs, and will be in Ulster markets the day after. The freshness of the catch was indeed great – so fresh that some of the plaice were reported as still jumping while they were being boxed up.
“Ulster fish buyers are greatly interested in the project” but there was near-disaster from the first, with unfortunately “a number of them at Portrush on Tuesday were disappointed when the trawlers failed to arrive.”
Courtesy Eleanor Bond, “This is a painting a man in Portavogie did for us – that is where the boat originally came from.” Inscription, “MVV Family Friend, Portrush 1955 skipper Bobby McMullan, crew Albert McMullan & John McMullan“
The rest of April was then quiet for trawler news, until reports of those two Ocean’ sea-going trawlers landing their catch at the end of April and early May – the lack of news suggests the 50 trawlers a week just wasn’t happening. And the vagaries of Atlantic weather: “owing to the strong north-westerly gale, the trawlers had to cease operations in her last trawl for fully two days.”
With not everyone happy at the idea of a big fish industry in an otherwise tourist town; of bad weather cutting short the number of trawling days; of difficulty of access to the harbour in bad weather; of weather delays meaning wasted journeys for Ulster fish buyers, at the quayside waiting to buy….. The omens are not good.
And the behaviour of the sea-going trawlers and the impact on local fishermen? The next fishing article I see is our friend the Ocean Sunlight vessel, of Great Yarmouth, that darling vessel that offloaded at Portrush in April, but in June she is getting in the bad books and being fined for trawling too close to shore, as in the article above.
The big plans for big scale trawling came to naught. I do not see it mentioned much more. The expected fifty sea-going trawlers a week landing catches at Portrush became rather a small number, perhaps just a few trawlers. Even those few trawlers caused aggro for the local fishermen, with their long dragnets, and coming in so close to the shore, to scour what shoals they could find.
Kerry Gregg writes of family photo above, ‘My grandfather Willie Gregg, beside dad’s boat, in 1965’ and reviews these articles and writes, “Morning David, I have just read it and all is good. You must have done some digging to get those paper cuttings etc. The big development of the harbour never happened of course. A pity, but a fact that there’s not much out there to catch anyway now. With modern fishing methods and high quality electronics, all very high tech, and we have become too good at catching fish (imo). “I love the old photo of the steam powered trawler alongside the quay – they were a common sight in Fleetwood and other big fishing ports around England, but I suspect were always a bit of a rarity in Portrush.”
Portrush settled back to its holiday-making focus. The next year, 1933, townsman visiting Portrush “will find hours of interest in the magic of little coasting steamers and salt-crusted deeop sea trawlers” off the Blue Pool – which suggests to me that trawlers were an infrequent and unusual sight.
(Oh and for interest, you see there that Portrush population in 1933 was 2,952, half-day was on Wednesday, and there were FOUR arrivals and departures of Post daily.)
PUDC councillors go a round-Britain tour in 1934 and come back with big plans to deveop tourism in the town, including developing Portandhu. The fishing industry goes quiet, in the background; a next big fish news item in 1938, with a review of the prospects for the herring industry, looking at Ardglass.
The article uses a stream of bad words for the fishing industry, like “is in a precarious position,” “inability to find a market for the glut of fish,” their catch “practically unsellable.” Mr Steven is still in place as Inspector of Fish, is readying lorries at Portrush and Ardglass and Larne to tackle the distribution problems in getting the fish to Ulster depots. He moans that the Province buys in one quarter to one half a million pounds of fish, but bought and brought from Hull and Aberdeen, and is there not enough fish in Ulster waters? So many French trawlers spotted off Adglass, 23 of them, and there are 54 fisher girls from Scotland and Wicklow ready and waiting to prepare the fish – but the vagaries of the weather were keeping boats in harbour, there was bad luck with finding the shoals, and long periods of idleness.
Weather – finding the shoals of fish – delays – markets & distribution – times of a glut of fish, other times of drought – unable to get the fish to market, the wrong type of fish. All in all, the big plan for Portrush harbour as headquarters of a fishing fleet in 1932 came to naught.
Jumping on to 1950s, the postcard above, the harbour still looks quiet. There was another attempt to make Portrush a commercial harbour as a container depot, in the 1960s; another was for catamaran to Oban, in the 1970s.
The photos above, the activity of Portrush as base for shipping containers to Fleetwood, I assume the same issues of size of and access to the harbour were too challenging. Photo, left, courtesy Pete Doherty: “…says on the back ‘Jimmy Doherty with Captain Jones of the MV Wirral Coast. Container service commenced on 13th Sept 1963. Closed down 15th June 1968. ‘Jimmy Doherty died on 3rd May 1968.’ He was harbour master before my dad, tragically died at the age of 47 I think.” (left photo watermark indicates L’Atlier, the ‘Photographer of Portrush’, see blog.)
And David Patton (with his long family connections with the harbour), remembers and paints the 1960s: “The photograph and the painting of the four fishing boats, above, is the harbour as I remember it. Looking back at the Dock Head wall with the big billboard, Minihan’s shop and of course part of the old Ramore street. The Harbour Bar, the old wooden shed at the railway crossing bridge that always smelled of tar. Across the bridge there was a pub that belonged to a Kitty Quinn. I can remember as a wee boy looking for my father: I would look in the pub to see if he was there and if he was, he would put me up on a stool and treated me to a glass of Club orange.”
All in all, the big plan for Portrush harbour as headquarters of a fishing fleet in 1932 came to naught.
In this blog I have teased about Mr Steven, one might say of his ‘old-fashioned’ interest in solid things, products, Tangibles, not just in Portrush as a ‘service’ industry, Intangibles. But full credit to him: he had a plan, thinking what can be done, aiming to make things better for the populace, and he worked tirelessly for it – as I think the vast majority of public servants do.
Evening glow, Portrush harbour and west strand (photo: author)
PS Reviewer comment: “..I love your bit about imagining the wonderful Mr Steven brow-beating the captains and crews to come to Portrush! “ David: Er, why do you think I am joking? Reviewer: Er, you are, aren’t you?
As we saw in the first blog, Portrush – to be the headquarters of the fishing fleet, with the big sea-going steam trawlers to land their catch and for fish processing at Portrush, then a quick turnaround and the trawlers back out to sea again. Fish in Ulster shops to be so much fresher, higher quality, and so much cheaper.
Fifty trawlers a week expected to be landing their catch at Portrush from next month.
“Portrush as new fishing port – history is repeating.” When my dad moved in to Portrush in 1960, he asked around to learn of the history of the town and was told. “It doesn’t have any history.” That was very unfortunate and ill-informed, as I hope from these blogs that you know now of the rich history of our town! Even back a hundred years ago, in 1932, Portrush had centuries of history and there were plans to re-new itself as a big port and for fishing.
Like, a thousand years ago, Portrush and War Hollow out towards the White Rocks features as a battle ground at the end of the Viking era; and Dunluce Castle and the big abbey at the Northern Counties feature throughout the Norman era. For fishing, there’s that sea-faring Portuguese map of 1468, the oldest map of Ireland, with Portrush marked, a place of note, a place for doing trade.
The 1600s were bumper years with Sorley Boy MacDonnell at Dunluce and Portrush as his port for nipping back and forth to his homelands in Scotland, but Plantantions, and those naughty King Charles’es and troubles and invasions, resulting in the destruction of the castles around Portrush . a century of troubles.
The big men of ancient Portrush: Magnus Barefoot, the last of the maraudng vikings; Strongbow, de Clare, of the Normans, who drank and fought his way up to Dunluce Castle; of Sorley Boy MacDonnell, there at Dunluce Castle, him finding the wealth from the Girona; and the Elizabethan Sir Thomas Philips, wanting to make Portrush headland an island again, as a garrison
The 1700s: decline dead derelict dilapidated dirge-y drudge decades, and departures to the New World. French and Belgian boats fished in the area and called in, but the harbour wasn’t up much, just a blip in the lee of Ramore head. A visitor in 1750s described it as being like a Cornish creek, with sandy banks. I guess it was small, tidal, something like Portandhu. No accomodation, nowhere for the traveller to stay,
In that 1820s map, there is still only that one road leading from the town to Coleraine. In an 1839 survey, the population of Portrush was only 337, with “employment based entirely on the sea”. Those early 1800s years, writers say of salmon smacks from Mayo calling at the harbour, at ‘Paddy’s Pier’, a rough quayside, as a drive-through at Portrush to order ice and then to dash on to Liverpool to win the prize of being the first and bringing the freshest catch.
The harbour was built in the first half of the 1800s, and then in the second half of that century, the growth of the town with the railways and the Causeway tram and there is boom in visitors.
There’s been a hundred years of big ferries from Portrush – that advert on the left is the regular ferries starting up, 1836 – but in 1932, Mr Steven is saying, Yay! Fishing is our Business! Fifty trawlers a week expected at Portrush from now on!
Amazing sketch and paintings of the harbour, from David Patton (he has just completed a successful exhibition of his work at the Arcadia). “David, really great writing, I love it. I came across a couple of drawings, one of Portrush harbour in 1835 from the West Strand. I made a sketch of the drawings, and added colour and I send them to you to include, if you like.”
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In Portrush Tales, I like eye-witness accounts, and backed up by other documents. One delight is to find the newspaper article of October 1883, where the writer is chatting with an old Portrushian, 91 years old so born about 1792, and who remembers Portrush through the 1800s.
The article, such great turns of phrase such as a “ramble in imagination”, “preserved in imperishable lines” on the “memory of my quondam friend.” Yawn, what on earth is he rambling on about?? Its like watching the 1950s movies of excursions to Portrush: sooooo slow, one wants to wind them up to go three times faster. So where I have quoted from the article, for your relief I have taken out the most drivelous pieces of his writing.
I imagine the scene, the two guys sitting on a bench at the harbour gossiping – just like the photo below, sent me from Eleanor Bond: “David, this is my dad, John McMullan, with the cap, and Kenneth McMullan, sitting on the big stone at the side of the shed that used to be near the bridge many years ago.”
And I imagine the 91-year old gentleman’s kids and grandkids coming and going, enjoying listening to their grandad’s stories, joining in, just like in the photo below, from Sheila Stirrup: “Outside the fisherman’s shed, my Uncle Ken McMullan, fisherman and lifeboat man. He is with me (Sheila Hamilton), my sister Joanna Hamilton, and my cousin Jennifer McGuiness nee McMullan, in 1961.”
The guy remembers Cranagh hill, that was quarried out for stones for the harbour wall and became Waterworld, and he remembers that post was brought on foot, by a runner. About where Portrush fishermen lived, I assumed that they were always around lthe quay head, like where Ramore St is. But the guy says that it was the principle businesses of Portrush that were around the harbour:
And at the top of the quay was the big house, the biggest in the town – maybe one-time the customs house, and hotel where VIPs like Sir Walter Scott and Thomas Carlyle stayed on their literal visits to Ireland. The Portrushian remembers, “The road sloped down to the water; there was then no walls at the place, and the water-cress grew in profusion on the sides of a little spring of water.”
The grandkids like hearing his stories an he tells them: “Two or three little houses stood where the Northern Counties Hotel now stands, in one of which there is said to have resided a man, so fat that he could turn the scales with forty-two stones on the opposite scale.”
The writer comments that “Portrush must have been for long years a non-progressive place” – I think for sure that applies to the dilapidated 1700s century. But he recognises that even through those drab years that hardy fishing folk lived in the town, generation after generation, as we saw with the Patton family.
It all sounds very bliss and romantic.
David Patton: “Memories of my late brother Terry, on the old railway crossing at the harbour, with the fishing boats in background” ; and right, of lobster pots, down along the harbour wall.
The stories of Portrush history recount of the large fleet of sailing smacks, carrying salmon from Ballina to Liverpool, with Portrush to replensish ice on their catch. That period is described as ‘before the harbour was built’. I presume that the large commercial vessels in the harbour pushed the smaller smacks aside, with the local boats moving over to Portandhu.
As well as the harbour busy-ness, the news is of salmon stocks being depleted was also a smack to that salmon activity. An 1844 article says about ‘the laws lately made for the preservation of salmon’ –
Years later, 1894, maybe another sign that fishing as a livelihood is supported by visitor trade, the writer for ‘The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic news’ rag describes his happy tour of the salmon fisheries at Portrush and around the coast:
Do I remember one of the benefits of Brexit as being that it will be wonderful for the British fishing industry? In reality here we read of the depletion of salmon stocks and the need for regulation of salmon fisheries, away back in the 1840s. Still in 1906, a big Inquiry to try to recover salmon stocks. The article reports of the boom of trawlers around our coast – 125 trawlers with drag nets of 400 feet, 4 men per net, so a huge industry with 500 men – and of the Department trying to impose a 3-mile exclusion zone to recover fish stocks. Portrush and Portstewart fishermen face the ruin of their livelihood.
My assumption is there is always a dispute between local boats trying to make their way and to preserve stocks for life, against commercial sea-going trawlers and ocean-going Japanese whalers, asset-stripping the area and moving on, leaving the seas dead.
My perspective, I see of the happy excursion trippers to Portrush, enjoying sunny day boat trips to the Skerries and to the Causeway. The 1883 writer drools over the humble fishermens’ cottages, thatched roofes held down with bog-wood against the storms, with fishing nets hanging out to dry, oh how lovely, oh how photogenic, giving “a picturesque appearance to the locality, and would have made excellent material for the art-lover to transfer a representation of to his portfoilio.”
But of the reality of the hard grind of fierce winter storms (salmon fisheries photo below, courtesy Maureen Kane).
Maureen: “Excellent blog, such a good article. gladly do use the photograph. I did notice an error though, you had only one ‘m’ in ‘accommodation’ in the paragraph beginning 1700’s. “
The ferocious storm described, 1894, batters the town, and two fishing smacks being sunk at the harbour, with several fishermen and their families deprived of their livelihood.
(And, just my guess, that one of those two wrecks was uncovered at the inner beach at the harbour, last year.)
Sheila Stirrup: “The fisherman is William McIntyre. William lived in Garden Court too. I bought the canvas in the gallery in Giant’s Causeway car park. His grandson painted his portrait.” And a grandson, Jim Allen, found the photograph, described in the Portandhu blog.
The 1883 newspaper writer noted about hardy mariner families, living in the town for generations, like the big Macs – the McMullans, the McIntyres, and Mcallisters. I had noticed this newspaper advert, 1906, with the drontheim boat of the late John McAllister for sale, and I see that family name, about the big catch in 1907.
By coincidence, Ken Mcallister contacts me today, with the story of family tragedy: “My great grandfather, James Mcallister, was drowned in the old lifeboat, trying to save lives.” I see his name:
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And so, we are back around now to 1932, and the prospects of Portrush as big fishing port again. There is the scene below at the harbour, May 1932, the first of the big steam trawlers unloading their catches, with fifty trawlers a week expected.
And a quieter scene at the harbour, Valentine’s postcard from Sheila Brown’s collection I think, that looks like a steam trawler at the quayside:
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Hopefully I can gather some bits to bring the story up to date.
David Patton (exhibition at the Arcadia) ; Pete Doherty: “The big mullet haul”
“The catch was the biggest yet landed by one trawler, there being nearly four tons of fish of first quality – turbot, roker, cod, plaice, whiting, brill, lemon soles, black soles.” Photographs of the steam trawler Ocean Sunlight unloading at Portrush harbour, Tuesday, May 3rd, 1932:
The journalist looked over the story of the town and wrote headline with confidence, “Portrush as new fishing port. History is repeating.”
The herring season would start in April. We are “expecting 50 trawlers a week will visit Portrush.”
It was like years of planning and effort by the Ministry of Fish were coming to fruition. Five years earlier, 1927, the Rotary Club meeting at Belfast called for two new harbours in Northern Ireland. The ‘Klondyke’ fishing banks were rich for white fish and were just up between the Portrush coast and the west coast of Scotland – but the fishing fleet took their catches away to Fleetwood for landing and processing.
‘Why didn’t the boats save time and costs and bring their catch in locally?’ asked at the Rotary meeting. Because harbours in the province ‘could not support fishing boats larger than a yawl.’ The herring industry had bases at Buncrana and at Oban; but locally, boats could only land their catch at Ardglass – 30,000 barrels of herring landed there in the 12 weeks of last season – but no facilities there, boats could not shelter there, and there was no room to increase the harbour size.
There were ideas for developments of facilities at other ports, like at Magilligan, or Killough, or Kilkeel, or Portrush, or Portaferry, or Larne.
Mr George Steven, the Inspector of Fisheries – him, the tall one in the above right photo – was fired up for development at Portrush harbour. Nicely, the shoals of juicy plankton, that marine microscopic food, were drifiting nicely towards our coast, and fisheries were looking to Portrush for a base for landing and processing their catches. The town had the advantages already of great road and rail infrastructure for onward transport to markets.
And the harbour had capacity: the Scotch ferries ended at the start of WWI, and bettter dredging of the Barmouth gave beter ship access to Coleraine, so Portrush harbour had capacity for opportunities. The harbout authorities, the PUDC council, and the LMS Railways were all committed to supporting the development of a fishing facility at the harbour.
Their efforts seemed to be paying off, with in February 1932 a big scottish fishing trawler landing their catch at Portrush:
The big catch from the Fraserburgh trawler – a great success, and promise for the future! The harbour was lauded to be the headquarters of the trawler fleet. “Mr. Steven hopes to see fifteen trawlers arrive at Portrush next week”, the last weeks of February. And, “The trawlers worked within 20 miles of Portrush, which is an ideal landing place and equipped with all the necesary facilities,” drooled Mr. Steven, the Man From The Ministry. “Why should trawlers have to do the round trip to Stranraer, 180 miles, or the 300 miles to Fleetwood and back, when within easy range there were equally good facilities at Portrush?”
The promise of Portrush, in a new role, the headquarters of the trawler fleet. And Mr Steven, the Man in the Raincoat, paid tribute to the cooperation from PUDC – the stalwarts Mr W. I. Cunningham & Mr. W. R. Knox – and the LMS Railway Company.
The expectation of two trawlers coming in April was still big news, in early April. There were going to be great benefits of price and freshness. Mr Steven, the Minister of Fish, reported that, up to now, fish caught in the White Sea or Bear Islands by sea-going trawlers were landed at Stranraer or Fleetwood, for processing and onward transport: fish were 3 to 6 weeks old by the time they reached Ulster shops. Further those Ulster customers were asked to pay first class prices for only second or third class fish. Instead, those stream trawlers, of 90 to 100 tons weight, could quickly get to Portrush to land their catch and get back out to sea again, and could be fishing for five or six nights a week, rather than just three.
Do you remember that name, Mr Steven, him from the Ministry of Fish, from the Portandhu blog? Him in 1924 saying, “If it was up to me, I’d scrap both of Portandhu and Portballintrae harbours,” he said, riding rough-shod over the local way of life. He Had A Plan, he had his sights set on the development of Portrush harbour and was for sure talking up the fishing enterprise opportunity: “It is expected that fifty trawlers a week will visit Portrush with their catch.”
That sounds great – or is it a bit worrying? Like, Portrush is continuing to develop nicely for rest and relaxation. PUDC has just opened the recreation grounds for play and relaxation, and there are nice cafes and bathing boxes and the diving boards have been installed at the harbour, like shown in the 1930s postcards from the great collection of Sheila Brown, and there was regular swimming and sailing regattas. Sailing regattas too, with newspaper below of the regatta in August 1929 – the start of the race, and centre, of ‘Edith’, owned by James Kelly, winning a drontheim sailing race – and right, 1934, big swimming regattas and displays at the harbour.
Er, so there will be fifty trawlers arriving per week, chugging in and out of the harbour, while you are doing your ‘Portrush flyer’ dive from the high board and swimming out to the raft?? And you reckon an industry of workers on the quayside there, unloading, curing, pickling, packing, despatching the catches, while the visitors to the town look on and hold their noses at the smell while they pick their way over the blood and guts and fat of fish carcasses on their way to their meal at the Harbour Bar or the Ramore?
Hmmmm…. fifty trawlers a week in Portrush harbour. Hmmmmm….. Do you think that would work?
Portrush fishing fleet – at Portrush harbour (1) “Fifty trawlers a week” at Portrush Harbour Next issues…..hopefully will get contributions from folk…. (2) Portrush as new fishing port – history repeating itself (3) Portrush harbour 1930 – 1970 / Doherty era (4) …..through to tourism (5) deep sea creatures, kraken, octupuses, orcas and mermaids.
Amazing story of Portandhu, the little harbour of Portrush. Of if being owned by – Antrim County Council – or was it PUDC, or did it belong to the government in Ireland?? Who pays for its upkeep?? And Gregg’s dinghy pool, and Coke Beach Club, and boat trips to the skerries, and Sea Angling Club activities, regattas, and displays of traditional sailing boats.
So, this is Portandhu, the Black Port, or Port-an-too, the Port of the Waves, from where maybe a dozen boats of the fisher folk of Portrush fished and pulled their boats up onto the slipway and shore, like in the 1900 photo below.
“Looking south from along the front of Lansdowne Terrace c.1900” (photo source: History of Portrush FB)
We left the story at the end of Portrush fishing fleet (I) ‘No Man’s Land’ at Portandhu, with Antrim County Council, Portrush Urban Ditrict Council, and the Department of Agriculture in Dublin playing Pass the Parcel of Portandhu, hoping that the music did NOT stop with them and they would be declared as the owner and be responsible for its renewal and be landed with paying maintenance for it.
Postcard, 1924 (courtesy Sheila), and Lily does her duty by sending the usual fob-off postcard, with the usual promise to write a letter another time, which will never happen.
In that unhappy limbo, the harbour continued to decline. Later the Department of Agriculture and Fisheries of the Dublin government did big repair work in 1920. The ‘new harbour’ survived its ‘baptism of fire’ of big storms in November 1920.
Lansdowne & Portandhu, photo courtesy Ian King, about 1967
I assume that after the big renovation work that the Dublin government expected to hand over ownership to Antrim CC, and responsibility for upkeep to PUDC; but Ireland partition come along shortly afterwards, and the handover of ownership was not resolved.
1964 – Kerry Gregg: “Me and my brother Willie, on the Islander, one of many of that name my family have owned over the years (my own boat is called Islander). Dad was a boat builder and he built that boat to carry passengers to the Skerries, Dunluce castle and Portballintrae in the summer months,” (photo source: George L)
Things weren’t any better for Portandhu after partition though. The state of Ulster harbours appeared before a NI Development Committee in 1924. Their Mr Steven reported that the building of Portandhu harbour had been good – but only for a post-war employment activity, a MakeWork scheme, but that the harbour (and also Portballintrae’s) was not much used and he recommended scrapping them.
Portandhu, all seems bliss and tranquility for the nice touristy postcard, 1926
So, no support coming from the NI government then.The matter of ownership of Portandhu ad of its upkeep, or even if it should be supported at all or just left to rot, was still not resolved, and the Portandhu Problem festered for two generations more.
In 1929, PUDC meeting, the local fishermen raise the matter of the state of Portandhu harbour again. The outcome? Well just for variety, the matter of the harbour for fishing facilities is referred to…….. PUDC Bathing Committee.
Looking over the history over the years, ever since 1889, everyone had understood that the Antrim County Council was the owner and was responsible for harbour upkeep – hence the big lobbying over the years of the County Council. However…..
..this revelation appears in 1933, a shock, that the harbour was NEVER transferred to Antrim CC, they did NOT accept it, and they are NOT in charge!! Antrim CC breathe a big sigh of relief as they realise that they have no obligation for the harbur upkeep.
So, Portandhu harbour – Nobody’s Child. Mr. Knox, the PUDC chairman, puts his head down on the desk and sobs,
Otherwise, times are good in the 1930s though, and Portrush is developing. There is a BIG influx of fishing boats and trawlers coming into the main harbour, and big vsits with the naval fleet. Here, 1934, a PUDC group visited sites around Britian and they come back with big plans for Portrush. There is a proposal to construct a large swimming pool at Portandhu, with boxes and seats and sun beds on top of the shelter next door.
Checking again who is responsible for Portandhu and and who would put in the funds to develop it? At PUDC meeting in 1938, Antrim County Council reiterate that they have NO responsibility for Portandoo, but generously that they are willing to chip in a few bob for its repair, but no other obligation.
So, who owns the harbour, who is responsible for its upkeep? Not me, ‘gov.
Portandhu, described as ‘No Man’s Land’. Mr Knox puts his head on his desk again and wails.
But overall these years are getting ready for war, with priority on defence; indeed the same day as this article are big agreements between UK and Eire on coastal defence. I think the topic of Portandhu is quiet through war-time and then austerity years.
Portandhu Pool – Opening day, 16th July 1966. A lot of local kids in the photo: there’s Kerry on the right of the tall lad, and his brother William with matching jumper on the left (photo from Kerry Gregg) Trish: “We got an afternoon off school from Carnalridge when Billy Gregg opened Portandoo! Total delight!”
Ian K in the photo, and Emma M: “That’s my mum Pamela M in the black swim suit in the front “
The Portandhu Question has bugged PUDC since the 1890s, for sixty years. The council team, and the stalwart Mr Knox – him who moaned in 1933 that Portandhu was ‘Nobody’s Child’ and who wailed in 1938 that it was ‘No Man’s Land’, has persevered manfully to resolve, but unsuccessfully. It is quiet on this topic, but it comes before PUDC again in 1959:
The stalwart Mr Knox has to admit that Portandhu is not part of Portrush at all, that it is actually owned by the Free State of Ireland. Well, how can we get it repaired? someone asks. Well, we can ask the Eire government! wails Mr Knox.
Mr Knox is led, sobbing hysterically, from the council chamber.
Lansdowne, 1954
There is an appeal to Lord Glentoran, the Commerce minister, to exercise the ‘wisom of Solomon’ to resolve the ownership impasse:
Whether it was his Solomonic wisdom, or PUDC perseverance, Antrim CC, Lord Antrim, the Eire government, or …….. anyway, things seem to improve pretty quickly. In July 1960, the NI Ministry is agreeable to PUDC subsiding a scheme for the acquisition and restoration of Portandoo, with the Ministry of Commerce giving some funding.
Mr Billy Gregg bought the harbour:
1968, Mr Billy and Mrs Joan Gregg, at the opening of the crazy golf course which he designed and built himself (photo courtesy Kerry
….and there are hopes as that being a first step for something bigger to come:
Liam McC: “My late young brother Kieran rowed one of Gregg’s boat from the harbour to-and-from Portandhu every day. I travelled with him one evening – “We’re OK if we keep between those two rocks !” – in a constant state of prayer. Round Ramore Head he had to pull hard to keep us ‘on track’. My unsteady gait when disembarked wasn’t entirely a matter of ‘sea legs’.
1964 – Kerry Gregg: “The boat in the picture is called the Islander, one of many of that name my family have owned over the years (my own boat is called Islander). Dad was a boat builder and he built that boat to carry passengers to the Skerries, Dunluce castle and Portballintrae in the summer months, for the droves of Scottish visitors we used to get (photo courtesy Kerry).
And July 1966, is the opening of Gregg’s pool, Portandhu pool. A couple of my brothers and cousin in the photo above in 1967, but me, I am too wee to go on the dinghies. My cousin Heather says: “That’s Carol, my sister, on the dinghy, I don’t think I was ever on them. We did take the boat out to the Skerries out from Portandhu a few times, I think a friend of your Dad’s [that’s Mr. Gregg] took us. I loved it just the sound of the sea and birds such a feeling of freedom away from the rat race.”
(source: George L) Michael H: That’s me, Paddy B, Duck Mcd and Alan H in the dinghies! One of my birthday parties at Billy Gregg’s pool!”
Anne R: “I remember these, it was brill!“ Andy H: “Many a lovely sunny day spent at Potandhu.“ Claire H: “Thank you for sharing this . Greggs pool was amazing remember this so well. My brother D tied a string around my dinghy in case I would float out to sea! Fantastic place to spend my childhood.”
and Dawn R C: “Many a time I spent there as a child. Never brave enough to paddle too deep. I remember the tide coming across the wall. And a special treat of playing crazy golf. Thank you for this article.”
Of Portandhu and Lansdowne, our own family album, I see one of my mum, next door at the Lansdowne shelter, her and Dad visiting Portrush with a Kesh tennis club excursion, in 1947. And I guess happier days for the army in Northern Ireland, them putting on an open day on Lansdowne green, me and my brothers in 1965.
So, Mr Gregg’s ventures – the development of Portandhu harbour, dinghy pool, crazy golf, BOAT TRIPS TO SKERRIES, fishing. My family photos above, brothers and cousin out in the dinghies. Happy days with the army too, with me sitting on the tank on Lansdowne green. The show of boats, like the advert below, 1966.
Joanne Redmond. “I love this story! here’s photo below of me and my Dad at the paddling pool at Portandhu, in July 1976.”
Traumatic memories too, so close to the sea! Karen Monteith writes, “Oh, I have the clearest memory all my life of being at an outside pool where it met the ocean. I must have been very small and it was so terrifying to me! But years after, I could never place where i was. I thought it was the one at the Arcadia or maybe at Portstewart, but looking at your photos, it was clearly there!!!”
I remember the paddling pool as being deep, wonder how peoplepaddled there! Kery Greg writes, “The shape of the actual pool was deep, 4 foot deep at one seaward end, and shallow at the other side for wee kids to paddle.”
But – all was to disappear once the Troubles got into full swing.
The hordes of scots folks who used to come – all stopped, and the collapse of tourism, Mr Gregg sold the harbour on to the government in 1975. Kerry Gregg writes that there was a few years when it lay empty, then the Council took over running of the Portandhu site. I remember interviewing for a summer job with the Parks & Gardens department in 1980, that would include working at the dinghy pool.
The council secured sponsorship from Coke for a Coke Beach Club, at Portandhu and other places around the coast, beginning in 1982 – many of you remember tha Club (though no-one has photographs of it 😦 ):
Caroline Craig takes up the story: “Ah brilliant, David! I have very fond memories of Billy Gregg’s swimming pool, as we called it. My granda would take us down and we just thought it was the best thing ever! An outdoor swimming pool complete with pedaloes! This was late 70’s, early 80’s. There was the small, sandy beach complete with changing huts. I also remember the crazy golf course beside it. You could spend the day down there.
“The Coke Beach Club was also down here and we also played games on the green opposite the pool. It the weather was bad (more often than not) there were activities in the old Lifeboat House which is now a lovely cafe/restaurant. We also loved to scramble over the rocks and gaze in wonder at all the fossils. We’d try and count them but would lose count as there were so many.
“The excitement! Many a happy day was spent down at Portandhu. I still have the happy, happy memories of fun times spent here on many a summer’s day.”
Coke Beach Club – What’s On ads, 1982 & 1983 (oh and Talks & Tours at the Countryside Centre too, I remember those)
Kerry Mce: “Coke beach club – best summer job ever . I remember a great bunch of kids who came everyday twice a day! Brilliant craic with the kids and staff. Fishing conger eels out of the pool before the kids got there in the morning was always a challenge“
Jonny D: “Loved it. Twice a day every day in the summer. Crazy golf and target bucket.“
Victoria McG: “We all went to the Coke Beach Club. I remember the wee boats, going up into the where the Shanty is now if it rained. I also remember getting yo-yos to play with! We loved them. They were branded with Coca Cola, Fanta etc!”
Glynis A: “Gosh I’d forgotten all about the wee Coke club in the summer months. Loved that! And I remember them giving us coke yo-yos to play with inside the old boat house (now shanty) if the weather was bad! Best bit was getting out on the wee boats and being right next to the waves in the sea! Happy memories thank you for sharing.“
Freddie Fleming: “Traditional boat festival at Lansdowne. I shot this one in the early nineties just after the Northern Counties was destroyed by fire.”
Sheila K: “Wow! What a lot of information in that, David! Why would there not be interest in it?? All generations will have their own memories of the various stages of Port an Dhu through the decades. Poor Mr Knox – flogging a dead horse … and how was it ever declared part of the free state? Also, the pic of the children at it – that tall lad – reminds me of an Only Fools and Horses episode where Del enters Rodney’s art in a children’s competition and he wins and Rodney (an adult in his 20s) has to spend a week in Spain doing Kids’ Club activities “
2005 – photo above, and Portandhu is derelict (photo courtesy Maureen). There’s the shop, that hired out the golf clubs and the dinghies and sold ice cream and seaside stuff, and there’s the crazy golf course.
Kerry says: “Love the photos. I remember the little shop well. Dad built it at the same time as the pool, and mum worked in it, very long hours. The council bought it from Dad, but then after the coke sponsorship ran out they abandoned it and let the whole place fall into ruins.
“I often thought it was a waste of a great resource for sailing and water sports (anything that has a shallow draft).”
Digger works, clearing the harbour, 2017
Maureen Kane: “Very good David – I always remember my parents talking about the harbour being owned by the Dublin Government! Tthere was work carried out there before Covid, in 2017, with diggers moving rocks from the harbour and improved slipways, giving much better access to the harbour.
“Then that year there was a Skerries Roads Regatta to celebrate the best harbour, with some sailing done from that harbour.
“Then the area became a good viewing point for the Airshow!!” (these photos, courtesy Maureen)
Kerry Gregg, the son of the Mr Gregg, writes: “The east side is almost impossible to get into now. It was never a great harbour, always dry at very low spring tides and difficult to get into unless you knew exactly what you were doing. It is even worst now since a storm in the 1980’s took away part of the harbour wall and almost blocked the entrance. It would need to be cleared by professional divers and explosives to open it up for anything other than shallow drafted boats.
Ian I:”And the radio one road show was another great attraction, along with the Coke Beach Club.. ..and launching from the harbour was so easy,as long as you dodged the submerged rock on way out……Great article.”
“The main Portrush harbour is OK to use, but it is the point of Ramore Head that is the dangerous bit, but any good seafarer should be able to transit it with caution. It is not great though for the cruise ships that have started to use Portrush on their planned stopovers. They have to anchor in the bay and run tender vessels into the harbour, but any swell in the bay puts a stop to that operation, and the ship clears off to a “safer” port. If a floating jetty was put out at the east side (which is sheltered from swell) and into deeper water then yes, it would be a safe place to land passengers but it would take a large investment in a good serviceable jetty / pontoon arrangement, which I doubt the council would want to invest the money into.”
Louis Craig, Jim Doherty harbour-master, and Billy Gregg (source: George L)
Portandhu: always lots of opportunities, lots of possibilities, potential, always practical decisions on scale of investments and levels of usage, and working with local entrepreneurs to enable local enterprise.
David: I felt so honoured to receive this feedback from Willie Gregg: “Thank you so very much, you have made my day. It’s all part of the very best times that Portrush ever had. I well proud of your story , honestly so proud of everything you have put together , Well done David “
The town clerk, Samuel Cunningham, 1960, looked at the pile of documents related to Portandhu harbour, with the pile of papers “beginning from before I was born!”Amazing work and perseverance by the Portrush District Council, years and years of effort. Maybe all local government activity takes time, involves coordination and agreement with lots and lots of other organisations and committees, and always a scrabble for funds and approvals.
Sheila K: “So much interesting history associated with this little spot … all those changes over the years! I’m sure there are generations of Portrush folk who each have memories of what it was like in ‘their time’. Thank you for this, David
The photo below, courtesy Maureen, of Portandhu today, in gorgeous weather.
It is a happy place. Buffeted by tides and wind and time, ups and downs over the years, hopes for great new developments to see it buzzing, with so many happy memories, of Gregg’s dinghly pool, of Coke Beach Club, of fossils, of the promenade and the delights of the sand and the seaside and the fresh winds and the views out to the East Strand and Rathlin and Scotland. Love it.
‘Gregg’s dinghy pool’ or the Lido or Portandhu or Port-an-dhu or Portandoo or the Coke Beach Club – down at Lansdowne there, with the old lifeboat house / shelter / toilets, with the big painted sign on the wall saying BOAT TRIPS TO SKERRIES; pier, dinghy pool, little fishing harbour, in whatever state of repair you remember them. It was a harbour for small fishing boats, with the majority of Portrush’s small fishing boats there.
So, this is Portandhu, the Black Port, or Port-an-too, the Port of the Waves.
Port-an-too : the Port of the Waves. Storm, 2021 – photo: courtesy Maureen
So, why was it there, why was a need for a harbour there when there was a big harbour on the other side, the west side of Portrush peninsula? Well, the fishing shoals were off the Skerries, and Captain Watt (him of Watt’s coal yard, which became Watterworld) tells of the longer journey to get the boats back round Ramore Head to the harbour, and of the difficulty for small boats of the tides and winds there, and of local lives lost – McAlister, Magee, Doherty – in 1874.
(Source: PUDC submission by Macauley & Watt to Antrim County Council, 1903)
Capt. Watt says about 50 men’s livelihood depended on fishing, with 500 more dependants – though that sounds like an over-large number to me, it could of course be a fisherman’s tale. Before the harbour was built, fishing boats berthed at Paddy’s Pier, outisde the Harbour Bar. But in bad weather, tides and winds made getting round the ‘Head difficult for smaller boats. And I assume the demand on the harbour for shipping for Coleraine and cross-channel ferries, and harbour fees, were further difficulties for smaller boats. I read that the number of fishing boats reduced from 40 to 14, with the majority based at Portandhu.
Portandhu Pool – Opening day, 16th July 1966. A lot of local kids in the photo: there’s Kerry on the right of the tall lad, and his brother William with matching jumper on the left (photo from Kerry Gregg) Trish: “We got an afternoon off school from Carnalridge when Billy Gregg opened Portandoo – total delight!”
I see newspaper articles in the 1850s waxing lyrically about boat trips and excursions to the Skerries. Below, the writer in 1881 rambles from Portrush to the Giant’s Causeway, and says of Portandhu as a place for boat excursions or parties, going fishing in the bay or out to the Skerries. Boats were drawn up at night onto the shore, in these years before the Portandhu harbour was created.
His article describes ‘Port-an-dhu’ as being ‘the Black Port’, though his learned colleague reckons the harbour as ‘Port-an-too’ – ‘the Port of the Waves’ – and I see that name in newspaper articles of the time.
1968, Mr Billy and Mrs Joan Gregg, at the opening of the crazy golf course (photo courtesy Kerry)
Portrush was a compact fishing community in the 1800s, and families lived there for generations. Here it is James Martin (no relation to me), having fished for all his 84 years life, telling the Commission of the need for a fishing harbour, in 1884:
First though, a reminder of how little there was to ‘Port Rush’ in the 1830s, as shown in the map, below left. The fishing buildings – ice house, customs house – are around the harbour – there is just nothing on Ramore Head. No sign of any creek or inlet at Port-an-too on the map either. Visitors though were starting to come to the town, and then the train arrived in 1855, and then the masses came to walk around the Head for the views. There was a cast-iron turnstile at the Giant’s Washtub cauldron, and walking on past the quarry which will become the lower putting green of the recreation grounds.
The 1880s were great times for Portrush with the trains, the Causeway tram, Scotch ferries and golf starting up. Here, the new Northern Counties owners got together with the landowner, Lord Antrim, and they build the road to allow the drive up around the base of Ramore Head and on past Portandhu to the east strand.
The 1830s map, there is nothing that looks like an inlet, a creek, a harbour. But in 1887, the ‘most important improvement is the new fisherman’s harbour at Port-a-dhu’, with rock-blasting and work for making a breakwater, with public funds supplied by the Board of Works. The early 1900s map, above, there is the grand Lansdowne development and road, the driveway around the base of the ‘Head, the lifeboat house – and there is Portantoo / Portandoo / Portandhu with a breakwater.
Postcards, 1906, courtesy Sheila Brown, showing the Lansdowne development and sports and music on the Northern Counties green
Port-an-too – the Port of the Waves, and it lives up to its names with damage to the breakwater in big storms, in 1895. Now October 1903, PUDC representatives (MacAuley & Capn. Watt) complain to Antrim County Council that the harbour was built in 1887 but (rather rudely) ‘as done by Government officials … it did not seem to have been as substantially erected as it might have been.’ Now 15 years since the harbour works, they seek work to improve the fishery pier and harbour. They report of that storm damage to the breakwater, and as not repaired that the creek was filling up with debris.
That year, 1903, was big lobbying for improvement to the harbour. In February – well, it is like one of these training courses where you have only a minute to make your pitch to the Senior Manager, visiting for the day. The Viceroy, Lord Dudley, is at Portrush, having his lunch after his round of golf with Miss Hazlet. The fisherman Thomas Martin, steps up to make his elevator pitch. He tells His Viceroyness of the bad condition of ‘Port-an-too’ harbour and asks for its improvement. The Lord says he will follow up, and indeed he sends his agent to inspect the harbour. The National Lifeboat Assocation and the Department of Agriculture and Technical Instruction also inspect, and for sure they identify the great difficulty with the harbour.
Things seemingly move fast! The Viceregalness elevator pitch was at the end of February, the inspections, plannings, costings and proposals. In July, the Department of Agriculture and Technical Instruction, the government of Ireland body based at Dublin, is chasing up Portrush Urban District Council, the PUDC, to ask what they want to do about the proposal.
1964 – Kerry Gregg: “The boat in the picture is called the Islander, one of many of that name my family have owned over the years (my own boat is called Islander). Dad was a boat builder and he built that boat to carry passengers to the Skerries, Dunluce castle and Portballintrae in the summer months, mainly the droves of Scottish visitors we used to get .” (photo courtesy Kerry)
The proposals in 1903 have a range of costs from £4,000 (the whole hog piece of work, including fixing the breakwater) down to £2,000 (improvements to the pier only). Those amounts sound pretty small, but today’s money, that’s £620,000 down to £310,000. (That sounds a pretty major investment to me, some financial burden on Portrush – over the years we see lower and lower scales of work being proposed, with costs down to £200 in 1903 prices.)
Documents showed that the original work was done by the Board of Works and responsibility was handed over to the ‘Grand Jury’ of the county, which became the Antrim County Counil. Captain Watt strongly urges the Antrim CC to take up the funding support offer from the Agricultural Board. The action from this Antrim County Council meeting? …. to refer the question to their Finance Committee:
Things may have happened fast in 1903, but 18 months later, May 1905, the (Dublin) Agricultural Department chases up Antrim CC to see if they wished to accept the offer of financial assistance – and to hurry up, as the offer is closing.
And the response from Antrim CC? Well, the matter is referred to…….. the Finance Committee again.
Northern Counties gardens, 1904 image; colorised, and the black and white version Left, July 1904, “Having a good time here but weather not the best. Am giving up and going home on Saturday.“ Right, 1915, postcard to Mrs. Joe Halshead in Oldham: “Many thanks for the big box of flowers which arrived all right today.” (For reassurance the back of the postcard is printed with “This is a real photograph” (postcards courtesy Sheila Brown Collection)
No progress to report, and then 1910 is the next big round of discussions. Around Ireland, ownership of small ports were being handed over from the (Dublin-based) Department of Agriculture and Fisheries, to the county councils. But Portandhu harbour has deteriorated so much, now described as ‘practically useless’ – even described as ‘derelict’ in an Antrim CC meeting – and it is not handed over.
The local fishermen beg PUDC to follow up on the offer from Antrim CC:
By the way, the names list of the local men in the article is awesome – I recognise the names Hopkins, Ross, Doherty, Stewart, Fleming, Patton, Martin, McAlister, from other blogs – men of the sea and heroes of the lifeboats.
Amazing – one of the names is William McIntyre, and Jim A writes, “Portandhub – my grandfather sailed from there in the first half of the last century. The photograph is Granda McIntyre in his drontheim ‘Helen’ with his children James & Helen (my mother) at Portandubh” with the White Rocks in the distance. And I find newspapers recording his winning ways at Portrush and Portstewart regattas, for example, in 1907:
The harbour repair costs had been estimated as over £3,000. The Antrim CC and Piers Commission reckon though that the fee could be much less, about £500 or £600 – a smaller scale of work, with use of waterproof sticking plaster, etc – and on that basis then Antrim CC would be willing to contribute…… up to £250.
Oh, and on condition that Portrush UDC also contribute a quarter – and that they then take over responsibility for all future maintenance of the harbour.
Considering that the original major works to build the harbour lasted only 8 years before the big storm damage in 1895, and that the Antrim CC are now only offering to contribute a measly £250 for a bodge patch-up repair job to Portandhu before they wash their hands and run away and leave PUDC with ownership and future upkeep costs……. PUDC did not accept their offer.
The harbour continued to decline and later the Department of Agriculture and Fisheries themselves did big repair work in 1920. The ‘new harbour’ survived its ‘baptism of fire’ of big storms in November 1920.
I assume that on completion of the big renovation work on the harbour, that the Dublin government expected to hand over ownership to Antrim CC, and responsibility for upkeep to PUDC; but Ireland partition come along shortly afterwards, and handover of ownership was not resolved.
Loud music on Lansdowne green! Left, an historic photo! I dentified the image as being of Sharples circus, and newspaper archives had them as having a pitch on Lansdowne Green, in the 1920s. The posh residents thought the circus was un-cool though – noisy, busy, and spoiling the Lansdowne’ promenade – the only promenade that existed in the town at that time. Right, 1980s, Radio 1 Roadshow – Kid Jensen with Bruce Penhall (photo courtesy Caroline Dorsett)
Partition, Northern Ireland now, and the state of Ulster harbours appeared before a NI Development Committee in 1924. Their Mr Stevens reported that the building of Portandhu harbour had been good – but only for a post-war employment activity, and that the harbour (and also Portballintrae’s) was not much used and recommends scrapping them.
Portandhu, 1926 postcard
A couple of my brothers and a cousin, yellow dinghies at Gregg’s pool, about 1967 (Martin family album)
Wasn’t Mr Edgar smart 
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. Another name I remember was a youngster – well, same age as me – called Billy McLelland. I think his family were fishermen in the 50’s and 60’s?”
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thank you for sharing.“
Portrush Tales 