I am always on the look out for a good story and for the next two weeks we will be publishing some nostalgic tales written by Michael 'Mickey' Folland. Mickey lived and grew up at number nine Orielton Terrace, otherwise known as the Chain Back and I am sure these tales will bring back memories to many. I am particularly grateful to Mickey for his contribution, as I will be away on holiday for the next couple of weeks and his stories will keep us going! I have found some old photographs to illustrate them.

On the

Mill Pond

During the mid to late 40s my close friend, John Colley and I discovered a very old wooden boat abandoned behind Stephens Garage (now a residential care home) on the East Back, locally known as Piggy Back. This almost wreck of a boat's final resting place was propped up at the top of a very steep slope leading down to The Mill Pond.

The boat was too large for the two of us to move, so we encouraged several more of our friends to lend a hand. Eventually we were able to manoeuvre this 'tatty ol' craft' to the edge of the slope, next, we all clambered aboard for the launching ceremony which took us rapidly down the slope, only to be jolted to a sudden and unscheduled stop as we struck  the boundary wall, bow first. Being a nation of seafarers, we were not deterred by this temporary set back, but bent our backs yet again to get this 'chunk of junk' over the boundary wall, and then onwards into The Mill Pond - the whole operation took us many weeks out of our summer holidays.

We finally achieved the impossible, and got the craft over the wall and into the shallows of the pond (long before the council constructed a concrete walkway up towards 'Little Gates') only to find that the timbers were so dry and open that when we pushed it into deeper water the boat just filled up and rested on the bottom with all of us sitting aboard quite dumbstruck! What an adventure that was, no blood, only sweat and tears. I even went on to join the navy some years later.

Down the New Way

Another boyhood adventure was to 'toboggan' down The New Way on a sheet of corrugated zinc, bent in such a way as to be able to attach a rope to its front end. This all took place before the council installed a safety hand rail down the centre of this very steep hill. We would line our selves up and careen down this challenging slope towards the lake at the bottom - sometimes missing the lake's water trap and scraping and skidding over the bridge in a shower of sparks. Very occasionally did we experience the temperature of the very shallow waters of the commons lake. We never tried this daredevil stunt from the top of The New Way, but somewhere close to Mrs. Drinkwater's shop which was just under half-way up 'The Toboggan Run'. Fortunately for us 'Daredevils', motor vehicles were at that time a very rare sight indeed. Those wonderful days of 'short trousers, tacky boots' and a leather 'Biggles' style brown leather flying helmet (minus goggles).

My New Bike

In the late 40s, I was fortunate enough to pass my exams to gain admission to the County School in Pembroke Dock, opposite The Memorial Park. For this outstanding achievement, I was rewarded by my mother buying me a brand new bicycle. How proud I was to receive such an amazing gift. My frequent destination thereafter was a four mile ride to Freshwater East. I had then temporarily given up bathing in the Mill Pond, where I first learnt to swim, to enjoy the clean ocean freshness of Freshwater East.

The same summer, a close neighbour, who was several years my senior, asked if he could borrow my bike to go with his friends to Freshwater East. Naturally, exercising due caution, I felt it right and proper that I should decline his request - the next stage was for him to offer to take me on the crossbar whilst he did all the 'pedal-power' towards our destination. What an uncomfortable experience that was, and as we neared the beach, I, being uncomfy and restless, caught my heel in the spokes of the front wheel - no damage to myself, but the front wheel was buckled completely out of shape - nonetheless, we enjoyed the rest of the day on the beach, but when it was time to make tracks for Pembroke Main Street, we found that the wheel would not rotate on its axle - so, we ended up carrying the bike back the same four miles from whence we came. How on earth was I going to explain this disaster to my mother, and what was the repair cost going to be? However, we took the bike back to the shop, and with a 'spoke key', the front wheel once again ran true and silently between the forks! Phew..... The cost, 'no charge'.

Diving from the Old Mill

In the mid to late 40s, I witnessed two young guys diving out of the top floor window of the Old Mill, located on the Mill Bridge. One of the young men (about 18), who lived in Llanelli, and was a great pal of Joey Griffiths, used to dive off the high cranes on the Llanelli Docks, so this 'high' dive was just like a walk in the park to him, and this guy Vaughan did a beautiful swallow dive (about 50-feet up) from this top floor window hardly making a splash as he entered the water of The Castle Pond. Tom Stevens was the other fearless young man, he took a little longer as he stood at the open window... waiting.... looking.... not knowing whether to dive, jump or walk back down to a lower floor. We all waited at the Quayside... then Tom launched himself from the same window and hit the water with a tremendous splash and went so deep it appeared to be several minutes before he surfaced. All was deathly 'hush' until he came to the surface with a half smile of relief on his face, to be greeted by rapturous applause from the excited group of onlookers. Well done Tom and Vaughan. The highest I ever dared to launch myself of from was the Mill Bridge itself. In those far off days many youngsters swam in the Mill Pond....if it was OK for the swans, it must have been Ok for us!

 

The Town Clock

The final bit of memorable personal history refers to The Town Clock in Pembroke Main Street, which was wound-up by hand every Saturday morning. There were two mechanisms, one for the quarterly chimes and to strike the hour, and the other cable we wound up was to keep the clock 'ticking' for another week. The contract for this weekly operation was awarded to my grandfather of Tracy Jewellers by the then PBC (Pembroke Borough Council), and I was very privileged as a youngster to accompany a Mr. Davies, of Pembroke Dock, who was employed by my grandfather as a watch repairer, up the clock tower's narrow and very steep ladder type access into the winding-up chamber. We accessed this area by going through Smith and Sons paper and bookshop. This weekly contract to wind up the town clock was terminated by Tracy's in November 1952. I suspect that the present clock is propelled along its hourly track by means of electricity. Just a switch instead of a very large winding handle. For me, time always seemed to drag from one Saturday morning to the next.... now, in later life, time passes far too quickly!! Sometimes I feel that I need winding up! Ha! ha!

Contact

If you have any stories or photographs for this column, please contact me, Linda Asman, on