Arthur Ransome fans work to buy Swallow replica at Turk’s film prop boat auction

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Arthur Ransome film boat Swallow for sale

Swallow is included in the Turk’s sale

Swallow, one of two dinghies made for a 1974 film of Arthur Ransome’s popular children’s novel Swallows & Amazons, is up for auction in a few days and Ransome enthusiasts are looking for supporters to help raise cash to buy her.

The idea behind the campaign is to get Swallow on the water so Ransome fans can have an experience just like in the books; anyone will be allowed to sail in her for a small fee, and those who have donated to the original appeal will be given credits towards an appropriate number of sailing visits.

Volunteers who skipper Swallow for the benefit of a non-sailing crew, drive her from place to place as needed, or undertake maintenance will not be required need to contribute. However, as the organisers of the bid say, the boat is not likely to be cheap, and they will need a lot of pledges to get their attempt to buy the boat off the ground. See the group’s website here:

A separate bid to acquire the important 1906 steam launch Cygnet in the same sale has also been put together by the Heritage Steamboat Trust, the Thames Boats Trust and The Consuta Trust, which plan to bid for the important old craft and to exhibit and store her at Beale Park. The organisers believe they can access matching funds for 50 per cent of the purchase, but are also looking to enthusiasts for funds – as they say, if she was sold abroad or modified by a private buyer part of the UK’s marine heritage would be damaged or lost forever. For more information on the Cygnet project, see

The boats are part of an auction of boats used as film props currently to be held at Chatham by the long-established Thames boatyard Turk’sclick here for more on the sale.

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Caulking video with East Anglian Brian Upson

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What can I say? This time our hero Dylan Winter is fascinated as boatyard owner Brian Upson of the River Alde caulks a hull that probably needs a new plank or two.

Click here too for a moment of peace as Dylan fearlessly sails his fixed-keel boat up the narrow channel towards Snape. I really should tell him about the Blaxhall Ship before he moves on…

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Stan Hugill describes Sailortown

Sailortown, Stan Hugill, Shanties, sailors, sailing ships, sea songs, sex, religion, drink, cape horn, paradise street, ratcliffe highway, sex, religion, drink

Sailortown is Stan Hugill’s book describing the sailor’s life when on land. A great shanty scholar, he felt driven to write it following publication of his important work Shanties from the Seven Seas; his motive was to explain how it comes to be that while the shore sea song writer uses many ‘bounding billows’ , ‘flowing seas’ and ‘raging mains’, genuine sailors’ songs concentrate instead on the delights and often dangers of being a sailor ashore.

These two quotations from come from the preface to Sailortown. The first answer’s Hugill’s purpose in writing the book:

‘The shantyman, being by nature somewhat of a philosopher, realized that the arduous labour of ship-board work and the terrors of the inclement weather were things too real and monotonous to be sung about. He preferred to conjure up the shore delights of chasing a bit o’skirt, with stuns’ls flying alow and aloft, down Liverpool’s Paradise Street, or those of knocking back the hard stuff in a tippling house, in tow with dubious frilly company, somewhere along the Ratcliffe Highway. that was sure-fired  stuff guaranteed to appeal to a half-frozen, underfed, and sex-starved bunch of foremast hands… “Give us the one about Madame Gashee!” would be the shout, and the shantyman would, in a hurricane stanza, take them to the dives and delights of Callao.

The second describes a place more like a kind of hell than a heaven:

‘Sailortown was a world in, but not of, that of the landsman. It was a world of sordid pleasure, unlimited vice and lashings of booze, but a dangerous place too. The pseudo-sailor songs singing of the sailor being ‘snug and safe ashore’ or ‘safe at last, the bar is past’ were wrong, you know. A sailor ashore was anything but safe. He was far safer at sea, hanging on by his eyebrows and toenails to an upper tops’l yard, reefing sail in a Cape Horn snifter, than he was in Sailortown, where every boarding-house master, harpy, pub hanger-on, and wharf-rat was awaiting to skin or slug him, and where his useless corpse was often to be found, knife between the shoulder-blades, lying sprawled in some dark, dank alley, or coiled obscenely around a tide-washed barnacled pile.

‘Sailors in the old days were of an adventurous disposition. Foot-loose men, bachelors by choice, shore likers, women-likers, booze-likers, they were wonderful men at sea, who often deteriorated ashore. And, strangely enough, as Alan Villiers has pointed out, they were God-fearing men. On my first voyage as a boy I sat down to eat my hash with my hat on. An aged, hawk-faced, slightly hump-backed Horn-toughened Irish shellback sent my hat a-flying, following its removal with a hefty clout around my earhole, and remarking at the same time, ‘Doff your hat sonny an’ ‘onour yer Maker!’ And expression I have never forgotten.