This is a true account of 8 months as a mate on a Rye Bay trawler, it happened quite by accident when I was made redundant about 12 years ago. My skipper had just lost his boat when it was de- commissioned and he was looking to purchase a small boat he could possibly work single handed. Continue reading Fishing in Rye Bay
Very soon after Christmas – in January 1941, when I was 14 years old, I took a job at the Rye Post Office, then in the High Street, as a Telegram Boy. I was given an official arm band and a typically heavy red bicycle with 28 inch wheels. The saddle was let down to its lowest position as I was a short young lad. Continue reading Rye in 1941
Rye – built on a sandstone rock rising out of the Romney Marsh, surely one of the most beautiful towns in Britain. A living example of the way things were. Continue reading The Town on the Hill
