‘Portrush Tales’ by David Martin – Index of topics

15th September 2023: now, milestone of 100,000 views, 115 episodes, 62,000 viewers in 95 countries – thank you, and thank you for your contributions to this enjoyable social history story of Portrush people !

Portrush Tales – me & my family’s & your stories ; the history of the town and the peninsula, going back to the year dot – Vikings, Normans, Strongbow, Dunluce castle and the two Portrush castles, the O’Cahans, the McQuillans, the MacDonnells ; the ‘Great Institutions’ like the lifeboat, Barry’s, CSSM, the Northern Counties, the Metropole, the Girona, … ; the music scene, from ballrooms to the Kiln-an-oge to the Arcadia ; growing up, & school days at Portrush and Dunluce ; golf, badminton, tennis ; cinemas and Portrush Panto ; Jimmy Molloy and the Harbour Bar; ……. Enjoy!

New!
Three sweet shops:
(1) Ross, the Rock Shop
(2) LV Ross, Lower Main St.
(3) Stockmans, the Seaside Supply Store The summer of ’79 / Best years of our lives

(I) Benvarden: into the Lion’s den
(II) Causeway Coast Safari Park

Portrush, Ramore Head – Siganl Station, WWII

from Croc-na-mac neighbours, the Edgars:
Postcards from Portrush: Donkeys on the East Strand
Postcards from Portrush: Donkeys (II) on the *West* Strand

Sgt. Fulton – last of RIC, first and last of RUC
Empire builders, Organ grinders, Spanish ladies – it’s Portrush Carnival!

Postcards from Portrush: Landsdowne, the ‘Counties, & The White House

Portrush fishing fleet
@ Portandhu –
(I) ‘No Man’s Land’ at Portandhu – – early years
(II) ‘Nobody’s Child’ at Portandhu – bringing it up to date

@ the harbour –
(3): “Fifty trawlers a week” at Portrush Harbour
(4) “Portrush as new fishing port: History is repeating”
(5) Portrush: HQ for Fishing fleet? Good times, bad times
(6) The Portrush fishing fleet

The Carnalridge sagas:
(I) the Bankhead years – based on Trish Gray stories, 1960s
(II) Bankhead, Revisited – based on Reba Jackson stories, 1950s, and earlier
(III) the McIlgorm years – based on Ian McIlgorm stories
(IV) the Millar Years – David Millar, head 1980 – 2010

The White House Tales, by Gerald McQuilken:
(IV) Socialising, by Gerald
(III) Styling, by Gerald
(II) Skiving, by Gerald
(I) Starting, by Gerald

Blog: “Leadership at The White House“

Development of Croc-na-mac & Rodney Squares, & Hamilton Place
1946 – the Year of the Prefab –
Croc-na-mac: Tin Huts to Steel Pre-fabs to Brick Homes

Portrush Tales: The Two Sheilas – Sheila Kane & Sheila Brown

“Postcards from Portrush” based on the postcard collection from Sheila Brown
(I) The story of Eglinton St.
(II) the West Strand & Harbour
(III) Harbour Tales
(IV) the Recreation Grounds, renewed
(v) Landsdowne, the ‘Counties, & The White House
(VI) Diving at the Blue Pool
(VII) Portraits of Portrush: Patton of the harbour
(viii) Donkeys on the East Strand & the Causeway
(ix) McNaughten & the Causeway

4th July 2023 ( 2 1/2 years): 106 posts, over 91,000 views, 56,000 visitors, 88 countries 🙂
21 Dec 22 (2 years): 84 posts, 71,000 views, 44,000 visitors, in 75 countries !!
25 May22 (1 1/2 years) 53,000 views, 32,500 visitors
04 Dec 21 (1 year): 40,000 views, 62 posts

Cyril Davison – a Tribute
Her Majesty the Queen – Silver Jubilee visit, 1977

The Strand Ballroom in Portstewart:
– Part I – the Ballroom of Romance
– Part II – from Helen Shapiro to Engelbert Humperdinck to Eric Clapton

“Portrush Tales” from Michael White now living in New Zealand – great set of Inst friends, teenagers in Portrush around 1960 – great fun and friendships!
– Part I – from The Other Side of the World – Michael White
– Part II – to The Farthest Shore – Michael White

Readership – almost 100 countries with Portrush connections / interest !

​‘Portrush Tales‘ read mostly in UK of course, but almost 99 other countries – United States, Ireland, Canada, Australia, Germany, New Zealand, Spain, France, Netherlands, Italy, South Africa, Sweden, Portugal, Belgium, Denmark, Austria, Greece, Jersey, Turkey, United Arab Emirates, Mexico, Poland, Singapore, Switzerland, Cyprus, Qatar, Norway, Guernsey, Tunisia, Isle of Man, Hong Kong SAR China, Kuwait, Finland, Thailand, Malaysia,Bulgaria, India, Philippines, Czechia, Slovenia, Indonesia, Ecuador, Cambodia, Vietnam, South Korea, Luxembourg, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Japan, Zambia, Nigeria, Puerto Rico, Sri Lanka, Romania, Uganda, Dominican Republic, American Samoa, Taiwan, Gibraltar, Somalia, European Union, Brazil, Moldova, Côte d’Ivoire, Colombia, Croatia, Argentina, St. Lucia, Hungary, Maldives, Kenya, Malta, French Polynesia, Ukraine, Algeria, Cayman Islands, Bahrain, Mauritius, Fiji, Angola, Barbados, British Virgin Islands, Seychelles, Panama, Israel, Cook Islands, Serbia, Albania, Andorra, Lithuania, Saint Maarten, Iceland, ……

100 years of Badminton at the Kelly Hall

Our Mum: Maud Martin 1926-2022

Rollerskating at Portrush – into the Guinness Book of Records

Dana / The Brown Sisters series:
(I) Dana -Coming to Portrush
– Dana (Rosemary Brown) arrives to the delights of Portrush
(II) Dana – Summer job at Minihan’s, Portrush
– as young teenager, Dana works at Minihan’s shop, signs at Fawcett’s & then the Palladium
(III) The Brown Sisters at the Portrush Palladium !!
– 1964, summer season in the Edwin Heath show – her break into the big time!
(IV): from Portrush Palladium to Eurovision and beyond
– after the Palladium season: school, Eurovision – but with continuing connection with Portrush

Podcasts – Dana / Rosemary & Susan Brown
Dana – Part 1 – Coming to Portrush
Dana – Part II – Summer jobs at Minihan’s
Dana – Part III – the Brown family
Susan – Part I – from the Palladium to Decca Records and 5-year contract
Susan – Part II – Fun at Portrush
Susan – Part III – Music & The Big Nights in Derry

(IIa) Ramore St. development, 1960s
– from Ramore St, Garden Ct, Quarry Ct, ….. to the maisonettes
(IIIa) Portrush Ballrooms: the Palladium & Arcadia
– you know the Arcadia, but do you know the Palladium?

Leander House – “The Leander Girls”
– that house that was next to the Blue Pool – so rich in Portrush history
The Metropole – Ministry of Finance – Portrush’s biggest employer
– the most-read blog!
Portrush cinema (III) the forgotten Film Festival
– 1994, with Stephen Frears – but oh no-one went to it, no-one remembers it!
Portrush floods – August 1960
– the big floods around Dhu Varren
The photographer of Portrush (3) Destruction, 1976 
– that dreadful night in Portrush, August 1976

Great institutions
Jimmy Molloy and the Harbour Bar
Portrush – the Harbour   – amazing history of the harbour
Gregg’s dinghy pool, Portandhu lido – and my summer work with the Council
Leadership at The White House
The Night the ‘Counties Died – the Northern Counties – on the site of the ancient abbey
The Metropole Hotel – Decline and Fall
Landmarks of Portrush: Castle Erin
‘Teas and Ices’ cafe and the Great Train Robbery
Hamilton Place and the Charge of the Light Brigade – rather surprising discovery, with great history of the place!
the Recreation grounds – 100 years
Portrush CSSM – Summer is here!
Kelly Hall: Badminton, Burning, Bullets, Bayonets
“The Croc-na-mac boulevard!” – the development of the best street in town 🙂

My Dad: Sergeant Martin – ten years after his passing, in 2010
My Mum: Maud Martin (in Madelayne Court in Portstewart, celebrated her 95th in October)

The Photographer of Portrush
(1) L’Atelier studio  – the studio on Main St, described by Trish Gray (nee Patricia Lee)
(2) Lee family album, 100 years  – 1880s to 1980s, story richly illustrated with your photographs
(3) Destruction, 1976  – that dreadful night in Portrush, August 1976

School days
I.   Portrush schools – growing pains – the development of schools in Portrush
II.  Portrush Primary School – Infants, downstairs
III. Portrush Primary School – Seniors, upstairs
IV. Portrush Primary School and the West Germany football team
V.  Portrush Primary School – P7 and the School Trip

PODCASTs (in a silly voice though): Episode 1, Episode II, Episode III

Sunday School Excursion to Portrush – coming to Portrush, excursion in 1950s

On the bus to Dunluce School – school days, teachers, activities, badminton successes, sports, ….
Dunluce School plays Billy Liar, 1980 – hilarious stories from Sheila K in Sixth Form !

The 1960s & 70s
the Belfast Telegraph: Portrush and the sizzling ’70s – news through the decade
Portrush floods – August 1960 – the big floods around Dhu Varren
Portrush, 1960s – the Swinging Sixties! – news through the decade
Portrush, 1960s – On the beach! – my toddler years, bliss!

That’s entertainment – Music, Cinema, Theatre, Barry’s
Portrush music: Showbands to Stranglers, ’60s and ’70s – Kelly’s, the Arcadia, Kiln-an-oge, ……

Barry’s –
Portrush, Easter – My Day in Barry’s
“It is the cacophony of noise and the flashing of neon lights and the smells of sickly popcorn and of grease that hits you when you walk in the front door of Barry’s. And the electric sparking of the Speedway. And the excitement. It is Easter Saturday, the opening day of the season…”
Barry’s and the Wall of Death
Barry’s and the Helter Skelter

Portrush cinema –
(I) 125 years – Pavilion, Palace, Picture, Playhouse – the story of cinemas in Portrush
(II) The Playhouse, year 2000 – awesome write-up of the years working at the cinema and cinema-going
(III) the forgotten Film Festival – 1994, with Stephen Frears – but oh noone remembers it!

Portrush Town Hall, theatre, pantomime, musicals, Waterworld –
Act I:   Dramas at the Town Hall, 1870 to 1970 – Town Hall, start and first 100 years
Act II:  Portrush Panto, 1970s and ’80s – the next 25 years until the demise of the Town Hall
Act III: Pantos – Waterworld 1990s, and at Town Hall 2010s
Act IV: Waterworld – The Musicals – late 1990s
(Act V – Performances at the Riverside – well the gap is there, but you will have to write it !)

Causeway Coast
“You must see the Giant’s Causeway” – Portrush development was strongly based on the GC
The Causeway Tram: “It was only a tram”
The Girona: Robert Stenuit in “The Dive”  – finding the Spanish Armada galleas, Girona
Dhu Varren – The town between the ports
Coast path – Tides, Typhoid and Tornado – the walk to Morelli’s and through the stories of the coast path
West Strand and the Boxing Day curse – family stories  and mishaps….
Mishaps on the East Strand – family stories and mishaps….

Golf
the Sandhills and the Triangle – the start of Portrush golf
1100s: Did the Vikings play golf?  with The Open, 2019

The development of Portrush
1850s – The Steam Train Cometh  – & the railway station, quarrying, train line and bridge to the harbour
Portrush – Living on an Island – wow so interesting look at the geography of Portrush!
PODCAST – Living on an island
The 1800s: of Trains, Tram and Tourists – boom times for Portrush and the Empire
The 1700s: of Trials, Tears, and Transport – Portrush impoverished, & big migrations
1600s – a Century of Trouble  – the plantation of Ulster, Bushmills whiskey, MacDonnells & Dunluce wealth, civil war, destruction of Portrush castles, the Girona wreck
1100 – 1600: the Normans are here! – Norman invaders, Strongbow cider, Dunluce castle, Portrush abbey
1100s: Did the Vikings play golf ?     – the Viking era, & war hollow, & the Open Golf, 2019 !

Mayday! Mayday! Portrush lifeboat
(1) Prepare to launch       – 1840s and leading up to the start of Portrush lifeboat; and films of launch, 1960s
(2) Tragedy and Awards, 1889-91 – fatal lifeboat call-out, rewards for quiet herosim
(3) Saving lives, 1900-1980 – rescues and heroism
(4) from A to B: Argo to Bergen   – the BIG call-outs, 1960 & 1965
(5)“What’s It All About?” – other news, buildings, training, developments, rescues

Lifeboat: the Bergen Incident    – the 1965 incident, recounted by Fred Williams
PODCAST (listen): The recording of Robert McMullan’s voice, of his view of the Bergen incident, is here.

With best wishes,
David Martin November 2022
================

Portrush, 1960s – the Swinging Sixties!

Oh, black and white photographs – so awesome, so emotive, such quality, such great class – so precious!

I think of the 1960s as being the black and white era, of style, of Twiggy, of so-gorgeous high quality photographs like of the ones above of the family in Portrush, of dinner dances at the Arcadia and Fawcett’s. And TV was black and white too, though fuzzy, but both migrating to colour over that decade. In Portrush, there is big news and changes and upheavals, moving from 1950s austerity to colourful years of holidays and travel and town developments and wild birthday parties at Dhu Varren.

I’ve written before of 1960s toddler days at Portrush with my big teenage cousins Heather & Carol.

Not all Portrush days were sunny summer though – in fact, the decade blows in with ferocious weather, with big floods at Dhu Varren in August 1960 – Janice Finlay Stewart tells me of being a few years old at the time and of being confined to her bedroom upstairs, unable to play outside. And my brother had to be collected and carried home from primary school, my dad wearing police galoshes and wading through the flood waters.

And in October it was the big Portrush lifeboat rescue of the Argo Delos, with RNLI award ceremony the next year. And the west strand sea wall was being built, below, with those storms being its first test!

And tourism that summer was also battered by a big seamen’s strike, leaving many visitors stranded and unable to return to the mainland, and expected visitors unable to arrive. Mr Fawcett arranges charter airplanes to shuttle guests to and fro, via Nutts Corner airport.

The 1960s and unions flex their muscles on behalf of their members: British heavy industry faces competition and decline from the big wartime and empire days of ship-building and shipping and of thousands of workers streaming over the Lagan bridge after their shift. But at least strikes were for good ordinary honest things like jobs and pay and conditions, and not about bringing down the Stormont government.

TVs were big and chunky and clunky. Ages spent reaching around the back to twist H-Hold and V-Hold until a black and white image appears out of the snowstorm. Then we could watch BBC, Blue Peter or Jackanory or Morecambe and Wise or Pot Black or the test card. And I sat on the corner of the fireplace – I can see the TV better from here! ….a sign that I would soon be at Robert Miller’s the opticians for specs.

If the 1940s were wartime years and aftermath; and early 1950s were rationing and austerity; the 1960s seem to me to be a Happy Decade, of having money in your pocket, of travel and holidays, of ‘We’ve Never Had It So Good’ that Macmillan didn’t say. Of colourful fireworks at Ramore hill. and other developments like go-karts on the East Strand.

Go-karting, started on the east strand car park in 1961, great fun I’m sure. But what sticks in my mind most of those times was one grey damp Friday evening, the commentator trying hard to get us warmed up by prompting us to clap loudly at the end of a race. But it was just a miserable cold damp Portrush summer evening.

We got the taste for karting though and Dad built us an awesome go-kart, old wood and good ol’ pram wheels. Croc-na-mac Square had just been built and pavements were lovely and smooth…. Wow look at this go-kart, look how fast it can go! And it can turn on a sixpence!! we yelled as we yanked the streering rein around to do a fast turn – but so fast that the front axle sheared off. That go-kart hadn’t lasted long before the Martin boys ruined it.

Another Saturday evening motor sport activity was the stock car racing at Aghadowey, with its spontaneous scripted “Clown pot-pourri” humour in-between the races, and of getting carried back to the car on dad’s shoulders.

The 1960s was big developments and changes for the harbour too. The new owner in 1963 spruces up the facilities for big ships, and a regular container service starts that year. But there is competition from the port of Londonderry, and there are reports of big ships having difficulty getting into the harbour in rough weather. That company is bought over in 1964, the service operates to Preston for some more years but then it stops completely in 1968. I think that is the end of the harbour as a commercial port.

The two photos above are the end of some things, in 1963: left, of the Dunluce Castle, the regular Belfast to Portrush steam locomotive, being polished up for its last journey to the Transport museum in Belfast.

And right, the newspaper article reports on the harbour being prepared for the big container ships, with the rowing boats, the raft and changing huts being cleared away. It is just my guess, that if you are an 880 ton vessel entering the harbour, that you don’t want anyone swimming nearby; and conversely, the yeuck oils from big ships’ propellors make it not great for swimming.

My big brother Jim writes: “One big change is swimming. Any chance I got, early 60s, I was in the harbour, often twice a day enjoying diving boards, raft, swimming under RAF patrol boats…..” But he bemoans, “Now, all the emphasis is on exercise, keeping fit, losing weight – but there is not a diving board or raft to be found in the Triangle. And we never heard of wet suits. Now the kids have to have a wet suit to go paddling on the beach. At least wild swimming is becoming more common. I’m usually along the front with the dogs around 7am each morning and regularly see wild swimmers in the Herring Pond.”

Speaking of emphasis on losing weight, a nice mother and me activity, pre-school: coke ice drinks, my favourite! Above, mid-60s adverts for Morelli’s, for Divito’s – “Our chef’s a genius, but he needs practice!” – and for Mrs. Ananias’s.

Sad news of the death in 1964 of Portrush golfing legend and club captain, Jackson Taggart, Keith’s grandad, who was key to the new clubhouses on Bushmills Rd; and in 1967 the destruction of the oldest Portrush dwellings around the harbour, including Ramore House, the biggest property in the town where visitors like Sir Walter Scott stayed on their Ireland tours.

On the positive new developments side, 1962, Jack Fawcett was obviously a big entrepreneur and high-flyer, and bought a light aircraft with it flown over from Boston, a 16-hour flight. Lyn Fawcett tells me of Jack’s love of aviation, and of flying to Jersey and Italy for holidays, and to race meetings to see their horse run. He reckons the only tourist flight was during an airport strike, with two guests needing to return on urgent business in England.

Flying was glamorous – and risky. A second plane for Jack took off from Newfoundland, but the extra fuel load for the long Atlantic flight became unstable and it crashed and exploded in a fireball.

Flights like Jack’s planes flew into Nutts Corner airport, replaced in 1963 by (RAF) Aldergrove airport for public flights. A big treat out was to go and see the planes from the public viewing gallery. Other Portrush developments, 1966 (below) was gearing up for the new university – whilst elsewhere, one of the great train robbers is arrested, the Moors murderer trial is in progress, heavy industry is declining and there are plans to re-nationalise the steel industry. Oh and price fixing and cartels: men, if you are thinking of haircuts these days, there was a shocking 12% price increase to 4s.

It must have been a weekday, me pre-school, about 1966. I see out our front window that the milk float van has to brake suddenly to avoid a car smash, but its load of empties has smashed into a million pieces of glass over the new road corner! My mum tells me to phone dad at the police station.
The curious days when our home phone was an extension of the police station’s – press ‘0’ to connect to the station switchboard, and a voice answers:
Hello, Portrush Police Station.
Hello, can I speak to Sgt, Martin please?
Speaking.
Hello, this is David Martin speaking. Can I speak to Sgt. Martin please?
Speaking.
(Me, confused. well I was only 5 or something.) This is David Martin speaking. Can I speak to Sgt Martin please?
Speaking.

Like one of the broken computer games that get stuck in an infinite loop.
Must have got sorted after a few loops though, and dad sends over a few constables, maybe Albert K or Noel or Gordon B, and we lend them our yard brush and dustpan.
Such a weight of glass and the yard brush is returned to us, in pieces.

My cousin Heather describes the decade as, “An explosion of music with the Beatles, Stones, Cilla, Gerry and the Pacemakers (so sad to hear he died), Lulu – the list is endless. Every teenager carried big ghetto blasters on their shoulders listening to music everywhere they went, and portable radios.”

And above, the 1969 newspaper captures the joys of live performances: The Marmalade band are due at the Arcadia but they get a late invite to be on Top of the Pops – who can say No to Jimmy Saville? They are in a jam, but arrange after TOTP arrange to fly straightaway to Aldergrove. I wonder if they made it on time?
(And newspapers that same day announce the end of the halfpenny piece. And it has the regular Spot the Ball competition – a dad hobby, putting an ‘x’ on the photograph, guessing where the players are looking at the ball.)

And explosions of colour too, with colourful photographs (and so-cool shirts) from late 1960s. That photo on the right, maybe one of the first colour ones in our family, about 1968. Dad was pretty handy and built that tent out of scrap wood from the ‘coal shed’ out the back. (We changed from coal in the early 60s, but to dad’s annoyance we still called it the coal shed 20 years later. (Some names just stick, like the ‘New Road’, though was built in 1950s).) The tent was a great play area with the neighbours. That summer was so hot though, we thought it would be cool to cut a nice square hole in the roof for ventilation. Really clever idea, huh? I am not sure if it helped ventilation at all – but one thing for sure, when it rained……

And do you remember cassettes? Christmas presents for a few years from Dad, story tapes that he recorded, like brer rabbit and other stories.

In the town, Harold Alexander is appointed tourism and entertainments officer, in 1966. He was the big man in Portrush tourism for years. I see the innovation early the next year, of a ‘Portrush week’ in Edinburgh, and Harold and my dad a great supporter of Tufty club for road safety, and of Barnardos fundraising, etc. I imagine him with Norman Hillis, my Dad, Norman Cameron, etc, meeting with Jimmy Molloy in the Harbour Bar, Sunday afternoons, chatting about the development of Portrush for visitors.

So, the 60s began with the big seamen’s strike affecting tourism, and floods and storms. Then great years, that my cousin Heather describes as, “Well the ’60s, it it was probably the best era to approach teenage years as it was before the troubles, and women were not as downtrodden as in previous decades. Not to forget how pop music escalated with the best groups ever and of course the flower power was in the ’60s. Nothing describes it better than the ‘Swinging ’60s.'”

At the end of the decade though, the Troubles led to the slump of tourism and the demise of holiday travel to and fro the mainland, for the next 20 years. The fin de siecle, the Happy Decade of the 1960s, is coming to an end. I describe my experiences of the next decade in “the Belfast Telegraph: Portrush and the sizzling ’70s.”

To round up the happy decade of the 60s though:

The 1960 article about the sea wall being built was beside a moan about technology about an abacus being faster than pencil and paper and faster than the known mechanical systems; the decade ends with the launch of the engineering marvel of Concorde – though with moan about the effect of booms on Dunluce castle. Other jumbo news, an elephant arrives at the Portrush Causeway Coast Safari park. And the thorny issue of Saturday opening of leisure facilities is now waived through – with the troubles, that is low on the concerns. And Portrush is gearing up for the catering college on Ballywillan road.

The 1960s: such great times had. So much social and industrial change: holidays, Aldergrove and flights, Sunday replacing the Sabbath, end of empire, the moon and Concorde, migration (Portrush landladies are asked, Would you allow coloured guests?), the harbour, the navy – upheaval! And ending with some splashes of colour, of wild parties at Dhu Varren, with a gaggle of screaming 11 year olds.

And an explosion of music and colour at Ruth Thompson’s birthday party photographs, Dhu Varren, early 70s. 11 year old girls’ party?? what a racket, I’m sure! Is that Janice, Caroline S, Andrine McW, Yolande a, Janette K, Cathy K, Belinda McD, Hilary McC, ……. ?

And, a lasting memory of the 1960s: of big brother’s Ford Anglia car, broken down in the lion enclosure in Benvarden safari park, with the monkeys leaping on the car bonnet picking peanuts and pulling the windscreen wipers off the car, and of lions sitting quietly, looking at us and licking their lips, waiting to pounce if you thought to go and shout for assistance….

Photos: Facebook, Remembering the Causeway Safari Park

PS Newspaper articles from BritishNewspaperArchive.com

PPS Oh, other episodes tell the story of the shanty town on the Portstewart road in the 1960s and typhoid, and of the Grieve needle factory at Glenamnus, and of the history of the harbour, the recreation grounds, me mum (Maud Martin) and dad (Sgt Martin), the Portrush lifeboat, dances at the Northern Counties and Fawcett’s, and music venues like the Arcadia, and other episodes. Enjoy 🙂 .

Portrush, 1960s – On the beach!

I am 5 years old. We are playing in the back garden. I am wearing my first pair of brown lace-up shoes for school, just bought from Mrs. Sinclair in McIlroy’s shoe shop down town. We are playing cowboys and indians – dad’s garden bamboo sticks, split and with garden twine for the string. My new shoes are super, nice and tough leather, great for football – but my right foot feels funny, hot, itchy.

There is me and a few brothers, and Alan Donnelly, and neighbours Victor Sinclair from one side and Adrian McAleese from next door on the other side. We cut the bamboo in half to make arrows, and sharpen them with a knife. We add seagull feathers to help their flight. I fire off a few, and I run around collecting them but my foot feels really uncomfortable.

We do a few optimisations of the bows and arrows design and which type of seagull feather is best to use, but I have to stop and take off my shoe. Oh I see – I have walked on a drawing pin and its point is sticking up through the sole of my nice new shoes.

What bizarre things I remember.

from Ray McConaghy, Croc-na-mac: “me (Ray McConaghy), Roy and Victor Sinclair, on 20th July 1960”

And I have a memory of Alan getting an arrow in his eye. I ask but no-one else remembers this, and there is no knowledge of doctor or ambulance or hospital. Is this the real life, or is this just fantasy? I seem to be caught in a landslide with no escape from reality. Could he open his eyes and look up to the skies and see?

Our P7 school trip went to Ostend and I see from Janet McQ’s notes that we went to Dunkirk and Normandy. Did we see or discuss the Bayeux Tapestry, with King Harold with an arrow in his eye? Maybe my brain has mangled playing cowboys and indians and bows and arrows and the battle of Hastings stories together.

Still, that image of poor Alan with an arrow in his eye has lurked at the back of my mind all my life.

1960s – On The Beach

1960’s, and my big Belfast cousins Heather and Carol spend half their summer holidays at Portrush. Me, I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy – but I am not so qualified at story-telling of this era – but the photos in our album are just magical, and Heather’s memories…..

Heather: “That’s Carol on the dinghy, I don’t think I was ever on them. We did take the boat out to the Skerries a few times, I think a friend of your Dad’s took us. I loved it just the sound of the sea and birds such a feeling of freedom away from the rat race.

“There used to be a raft way out in the harbour which we would swim out to and dive off. There was also a diving board at the pier although I was never brave enough to dive from it. I think Jim and Kenny did though.

“Diving from the stone bins?? The diving board I’m thinking about came off the pier, so not nearly so high, but shows you what a wuss I was – and it took me all my time to build up courage to dive off the raft xx.

“My time in Portrush was so special. You and Ivan were just babies and on sunny days – and every day seemed to be sunny then – Aunty Maud would put you in the tans sad, the big old-fashioned buggy, which Carol and I took turns to push. We had Ivan by the hand and usually we went to the little beach at the Acadia or the wee beach at the harbour. I can still see your Mum sitting against the wall enjoying watching us horse around.”

Me, I am just a poor boy, though my story’s seldom told. “Did you think you were left home alone lol! Of course you were there, you were in the pram. Sometimes if Ivan was too tired to walk we put him in the pram and carried you, as you were smaller and lighter to carry.

“Ivan’s favourite chant was ‘Amerwantcrem’ – translation, ‘Ivan wants ice cream’ – he chanted that every time we went out. Tickled me no end!

“There were sandwiches, lemonade and biscuits which your Mum would pack into the bottom of the pram, and as a wee treat we were given money to buy ‘Tato’ crisps. There were only plain ones then, with a little blue bag of salt to sprinkle over them – crisps today don’t come close to those. We would then have swam and carried on playing, with you little ones in the sand, or taking you to the water’s edge to paddle. I think Aunt Maud enjoyed the rest.

Left & Centre – On the beach // Right -about 1970, with (left) our England cousin, Ann, with (far right) ‘My Cousin Heather,”,

“Not to mention the free passes to Barry’s where we spent many happy hours, and always a trip to the circus.

“I was just remembering when Daddy came for the day. We always went swimming no matter the weather – actually the rougher the waves the better we all loved it. We would come back to the house frozen to the core and shivering, and your Mum would greet us with cups of hot bovril xx.

“Me and Carol were both dying about you and Ivan. (David: I find that happens about me, all the time lol.) How would I describe it? Well the ’60s was a difficult time, teenage years, family stuff, with happy interludes, but on the face if it it was probably the best era to approach teenage years, as it was before the troubles, and women were not as downtrodden as in previous decades. Not to forget how pop music escalated with the best groups ever and of course the flower power was in the ’60s. Nothing describes it better than the ‘Swinging ’60s.’

Music? oh do tell more! “Well, what can I say!? I remember your Dad trying to demonstrate his version of the twist, he said just to pretend you were drying yourself with a towel!

“Funny the things which come into your head.

Left – my Uncle Jim. As teenager I often had a summer week staying with him, farming, golfing, bee-keeping. With Heather & Carol, Kenny Ivan & me // Centre – Mum & Dad and the Burns, Twisting at the Arcadia // Right/ Granny – speedster at Barry’s

“It was an explosion of music with the Beatles, Stones, Cilla, Gerry and the Pacemakers (so sad to hear he died), Lulu – the list is endless. Every teenager carried big ghetto blasters on their shoulders listening to music everywhere they went, and portable radios.

“Radio Caroline, the pirate radio station was brilliant. I remember trying to get a signal in the car when we went for runs – Dad hated it and was forever turning it off. ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ was on in the cinema in Portrush and the boys and I tricked Daddy into taking us and he had to sit through it. Talk about sweet revenge, it was magic xx.

“Happy days with lovely memories. I will always be indebted to your Mum and Dad they enhanced our childhood so much at the time xx.”

And Trish Gray (Patricia Lee, her of the L’Atelier photo studio srite-up), writes:

“Our fun, in the 1960’s came from the sandhills, the beach, the Blue Pool, the harbour and the golf course. Once my Dad had decided we were safe in the water, and were sensible enough to be let loose on the town, my brother Martin and I, were given a key on a string to put round our necks, and off we went, turning up home for meals, sandy, dirty and often wet! Many Saturday mornings in the Northern Counties pool and often afternoons in one of the church halls playing Badminton. CSSM sessions in the summer.  In the harbour there was a raft, diving boards and a chute, not to forget the Teas and Ices. Jimmy Stewart, one of my Dad’s friends on the Lifeboat allowed us to use his rowing boat in the harbour! In the Blue Pool, there was changing huts, diving boards and a chute. Mrs Frizzell was still running diving displays…. My first job was helping her with the deckchairs on the West Strand.”

1 – vaccination card; clinic, down at health centre before it became the library and before it became 55North. (I knew if I kept the card for long enough, it would be of interest.) // 2 & 3 – Ivan and David, modeling the latest fashion in school uniform, Kerr St gardens // 4 & 5 – with cousins. the goalie seems to be trying harder than the other 3

David: Well, we left Alan Donnelly after the first section with an arrow in his eye. Later as teenagers we played badminton together at the Kelly Hall but then university, and Alan to the navy, and we totally lost contact. But a few days ago, his name popped up, liking one of my blogs and I wondered – is that Alan with the arrow? I ask around, but someone tells me that they thought he had died – was it a Russian bot masquerading as him? Or someone else with a similar name? But after a few days searching, yesterday I make contact directly with the persona masquerading as Alan Donnelly.

“Er, hallo. Er, Alan Donnelly? Er, Alan Donnelly, as in my primary school classmate Gloria’s brother? We used to play footie and cricket and bows and arrows and things in back garden of croc-na-mac? All my life I have had a bad dream of that Alan Donnelly getting hit in the eye by a bamboo arrow.”

“All of the information is correct lol.”

Alan said, “I think it was Aidey McAleese from next-door – he fired, I caught it just above the right eye.”

Like, where there ambulances and things?
“No not really, a sticking plaster from one of the big people. lol”

So there you go.
One of the Great Unsolved Mysteries of the Twentieth Century has now been solved.

A bit shocking to think that those little events – a drawing pin in my shoe, an arrow in a friend’s eye – a million years ago but the memory is still at the back of my mind.

The 1960s & 70s
the Belfast Telegraph: Portrush and the sizzling ’70s – news through the decade
Portrush floods – August 1960 – the big floods around Dhu Varren
Portrush, 1960s – the Swinging Sixties! – news through the decade
Portrush, 1960s – On the beach! – my toddler years, bliss!

The index of my blogs is here: Portrush Tales – by David Martin – Index & links

West Strand and the Boxing Day curse

Our house was one of the larger houses in the terrace with a sticky-out bit at the back for an extra room or two, but even so, it doesn’t sound big for mum and dad and 5 boys. I guess an equivalent family house these days would have a a family bathroom and an en-suite and a downstairs loo: ours was the single loo. I guess it is all relative: my older cousins talk about summer holidays at the family farm in the Mournes in the ’60s, where the only loo was the outside one, and the bedtime ritual was the candle-lit walk in the dark across the yard to the outhouse, using the newspapers that they had cut-up for loo roll, and hoping that there wasn’t mice or rats there to bite you on the bottom.

The wee cars, at Barry’s green, I guess black n white is 1967, colour is 1969, me being the little-est

My oldest two brothers were about a dozen years older than me, a half-generation older. When I was still in my cot, reaching through the bars and picking and peeling wallpaper off the wall – definitely early signs of being a mischief – they were already out and about and doing summer jobs. Me at primary school, there were at Queen’s, studying sociologysocialanthropologyandpsychology – lots of ‘ologies. Text books in the house included “Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee” – I just loved the title of that book, but it was about 700 pages long.

The early 1970s: while I did my homework on the wee table in the living room, they did maths in the big bedroom upstairs, using a slide rule, They had a strange skeletal “Grateful Dead” poster on their bedroom wall. They surreptitiously listened in to Radio Caroline and weird music like Cat Stevens and T-Rex and Ziggy Stardust; that music may have been weird but in the next years we were buying 45’s in Graham’s record shop, such raucous hits like Two Little Boys, My Ding a Ling, and Save your Kisses for Me – innocuous family songs but that era of Rolf Harris and Jimmy Saville turned out to be more weird and depraved.

Big brothers went out clubbing at Kelly’s, or to parties wearing bell-bottomed trousers and platform shoes. My brother sometimes took me with him on visits to girls that he was interested in, I guess me as his alibi to make the visit seem platonic. I think there were a few years that the family Christmas dinner – that is, lunch-time – was mum and dad and us five boys. Then serious girlfriends joined the Christmas dinner too, then later fiancees, wives, and then nephews and nieces.

The Christmas-time arrangement became that us boys could go to the other half’s for Christmas Day, and then Boxing Day was the big Martin meet-up. At a peak there was about 30 people in the house – with the one loo.

From left – Ivan, revor, David

The whole day then became a round of tea coffee wash up prepare lunch eat lunch wash up tea coffee wash up prepare tea… Family meet-ups were great, me being the littlest I could stay out of the kitchen and just get drinks and snacks served to me, while the older and more socially-conscienced grown-ups washed up and dried up and cleared up. Still mum hardly got a chance to sit down or get out of the kitchen all day. All the arrangements and preparations I’m sure became a big ordeal.

For a break during the Boxing Day houseful, everyone was sent out for a walk in the afternoon, to give some peace and quiet. Whatever the weather – it was compulsory, a much-needed rest and relaxation. But it seemed that year after year that the Boxing Day weather was miserable and the walk around the West Strand was drippy, soaking, drenched. We complained and complained about having to go but the expulsion from the house was compulsory, a breathing space, a Boxing Day necessity for grown-ups’ sanity – a lull before the Martin masses arrived back looking for the next round of tea and coffee and evening meal.

So, year after year, the family meet-up on Boxing Day, the walk around the West Strand, the annual getting drenched.

Not just a curse only on Boxing Day Curse.

Air Show, west strand, 2013. Nice weather on the Saturday, Maureen Kane takes these great photos. On the Saturday I am busy helping my niece with her jewellery stall, and intend to come back on Sunday to see the Sunday display….. There’s a bit of blue sky in the morning – but the weather closes in badly and the Red Devils flights are cancelled. The Curse of the West Strand strikes again!

A different occasion, summer, a big anniversary for mum & dad.

It is August, glorious balmy days of Portrush summer. The house is bursting with Martin boys and wives and kids. But afternoon respite is needed and the grown-ups tell the family to go for a walk on the West Strand. We can’t be bothered really. My brother complains, But that always means a drenching, just like always happens on Boxing Day! There will be a downpour and we will be soaked, just like it always happens!

Stuff and nonsense says Mum, look outside it is wonderful sunny weather, you all need the fresh air, away for the walk, go on, go!

It is Portrush summer weather. It really is glorious sunshine, there is not a cloud in the sky. We walk around the West Strand, shorts and T-shirts, having fun.

We enjoy looking at the waves at Castle Erin.

Out of the blue, a much bigger wave comes up and splashes all over us – we are all drenched.

It is the Grateful Dead poster: the Boxing Day walk on the West Strand – and some other summer days too – is just cursed.

PS Boxing Day, 2021 – we are in Cambridge at our house there. Rainy weather. BIG puddles……. Car driving fast ……. we are pedestrians – sloshed and soaked !!!!

PPS Boxing Day, 2022. To avoid any chance of getting wet, over Christmas we visit our daughter who is living in Abu Dhabi. The UAE, the United Arab Emirates – it is a desert, it only rains once in a zillion years. We will be dry there.

Boxing Day starts is a little overcast. In the morning we visit the old fort in Abu Dhabi. It start to drizzle a bit: the tour guide is realy excited, it is her first time experiencing rain.

We walk around the fort, slipping and sliding on the polished now damp and super-lippery marble floors. Our coats were packed away in our Germany suitcases, no need for them in Abu Dhabi.

The rain gets heavier and we are drenched.