River Ouse Bargeman

by Lewis, David;

  ‘Thief Lane is close by, so maybe there was a smuggling connection too. The next bend we come to is Thief Lane End and into another part of the river which is known as No Man’s Friend. It got its name from the old keel and sloop men who used to sail up and down the river because if you were sailing up the river with a fair wind, when you got to No Man’s Friend, the river bent right round so that you had a head wind, which was, of course, not a very friendly blast!

  ‘When we got round that bend we came to Turnham Hall on our starboard and Roscarrs Farm on our port side.’

  There has been a manor house of one sort or another at Turnham since the fourteenth century. In the fifteenth, the locality was so rascally that John Pylkington was given a licence to crenelate (fortify) the Hall. The current building dates originally from the early nineteenth century.

  ‘The next twist in the river’s course leads us into Willow Tree Rack, with Cherry Orchard Farm on the starboard along with the jetties for Sturge Chemicals in the distance. This is the outskirts of Selby, and time for work on the tow ropes.’

  J&E Sturge were major chemical manufacturers. Their Selby plant was a leading supplier of citric acid, an important chemical feedstock and food additive. They were another firm who used the river to obtain their raw materials, mainly shiploads of molasses which were the raw material from which the citric acid was produced. From Laurie’s point of view, the presence of Sturge’s jetties, possibly with vessels tied up meant a further restriction in the width of the river.

  Chapter 10

  COMING INTO SELBY AND THE PASSAGE OF THE BRIDGES

  Willow Tree Rack is the last stretch of the river before Selby that is straight enough to allow the complicated practice of ‘singling out’ to be achieved. For the journey from Hull thus far, the tug has pulled the barges along in pairs, as seen in the aerial picture at Goole. With lengths of rope around 100 feet long, and the barges themselves being of similar length, the whole assembly is around 400 feet or an eighth of a mile long. The barges were about twenty feet wide, and allowing for clear water to let the wash from the tug escape, the convoy was about sixty feet wide.

  Whilst these dimensions were not a problem in the lower parts of the river, by the time that the outskirts of Selby had been reached, the river had narrowed from being almost a mile wide at Hull to less than a tenth of that at Willow Tree Rack. As the river narrowed, so did the width of the openings available at various swing bridges to allow the barges to pass. Hook, Boothferry and Barmby bridges needed careful navigation to avoid the barges being dragged towards the bridge supports, but had sufficient width to allow the convoy to pass. This was not the case for the passage at Selby. Here, the Railway Swing bridge opened to allow a channel around eighty feet wide, whilst the Old Toll Bridge’s passage was less than half that.

  Willow Tree Rack 2011. (Author)

  On the approach to Selby, works jetties and wharves on the port side in 1937, and later at Sturge’s, Tate and Lyle on the starboard, along with Cochrane’s and Connell’s shipyards made the navigable channel still narrower.

  Willow Tree Rack was the place to put the barges in single file. This was singling out, which required smart work from the bargemen. The barges had no power of their own, just the momentum provided by the pull of the tug. Be that as it may, the barges were still moving upstream at least at the pace of the tide. At the correct moment, the tug’s mate would strike the tow rope from his port hook. The two barges that were joined to the port side tow were now merely drifting forward whilst the other pair were still being pulled.

  The mate on the leading port-side barge must now rapidly haul 120 feet of soaking and possibly icy rope in, whilst standing on a deck that’s possibly awash with icy water. No sooner has he done this then he has to heave that rope to the rear starboard barge as it was being pulled by. That rope is then secured to the aft of the barge and the two loose barges were pulled into line, and all four barges are in line. Now it was time to navigate Selby’s two bridges.

  ‘When all the ropes are taut, “All tight” is shouted out and the tug skipper blows one long, long, long blast and six short on the buzzer. This is the request for bridge opening.

  ‘Before we get to the bridges we pass the Sugar Factory on the starboard or Barlby side and Cochrane’s shipyard on the port side, with their vessels ready to be launched into the Ouse. The river isn’t wide enough for a traditional bow- or sternfirst launch, so ships slid down the stocks sideways. As you can imagine, that created a heck of a wave. Folk used to watch the launch from the opposite or Barlby Bank - and sometimes they got a bit of a soaking. In later years, as the boats being built got larger, Cochrane’s would warn people not to watch amidships. On one occasion in the early 1970s I was watching, and a woman who was watching from amidships was caught by a wave that came over the bank, was swept her off her feet under a parked car. I had to run and drag her out from underneath the car before she drowned.’

  Close up view of tow rope on hook. (Laurie Dews)

  Diagram of the singling out process. (Alice Prince)

  The 2,200 ton Superiority being launched at Cochrane’s in 1990. A vessel of this size could easily produce a ‘launch wave’ that would overtop the far bank. (Ye Olde Fraternitie of Selebians)

  In the 1930s Cochrane’s built trawlers, before contributing many vessels to the war effort, then a variety of bulk carriers, fishing vessels for the Humber fleets and ferries for UK service, until their closure in 1992.

  ‘Once the superstructure of these trawlers was complete, they would be towed down to Hull to have engines fitted. One particular vessel caused a lot of problems whilst being towed on this voyage, and she kept running into the river bank. On returning from Hull, the tug skipper met Mr Cochrane who told him, “You seem to have had a bit of trouble with our ship as you ran her into the river bank.” The skipper considered the situation and replied, “Well Mr Cochrane, that’s what the river banks are for – to stop ships getting out of the river!”

  ‘On the Selby side, flanking the entrance to the Selby Canal is Rostron’s paper mill and then another of Selby’s shipyards, Connell’s Shipyard and Dry Dock. The last barge to be built there was called the Selebian in the early 1930s, and it eventually worked for Whitaker’s of Hull, last seen hauling paper onto Selby Canal for Rostron’s.’

  The Bradman making a big splash on launch in October 1936. (Ye Olde Fraternitie of Selebians)

  Rostron’s was a company that produced paper and cardboard products. Latterly named Rigid Paper, the site closed in 2009. The remnants of the firm’s name picked out in white enamel in the boundary wall still remain. Connell’s yard also maintained the breakwaters on the bridges and remained in business until the 1950s. It is said that Mr Connell had an idiosyncratic way of settling pay disputes. Should a worker wish for an increase in his pay rate, the procedure was simple. If Mr C. disagreed, it was a matter of stepping out into the yard and literally fighting for ones pay. ‘To the victor the spoils’ indeed. Having passed these works, there are now jetties to port.

  ‘Now we pass the York Corporation jetties. One customer here was sometimes the Sir Malcolm Campbell. This was a War Department ship, that carried ordnance for the stores at York.’

  The bargemen would now have to deal with the first of Selby’s two swing bridges. To the port side is the railway jetty, with its hustle and bustle making the navigable channel more confused.

  Ahead is the nineteenth-century bridge that allows the Hull and Selby railway to cross the Ouse. The original rail bridge of 1840 was a bascule bridge which opened in a vertical plane like Tower Bridge in London, but by 1891 it had become too weak for the increased weight of trains passing on what was then the London to Edinburgh East Coast Main Line. The replacement bridge swung – and still swings – in the horizontal plane. The Act of Parliament that authorized its construction stipulated that it had to be able to open fully within a minute. This feat was originally achieved by the action of hydraulic motors, but now acts electrically.
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  A busy river scene just below Selby Rail Bridge. (Richard Moody)

  Of more importance to bargemen was the fact that the Act authorizing the new bridge reversed the rights of way at the bridge. In 1840, river traffic was so regular and rail services so sparse that boats had priority. Fifty years later, however, the situation was reversed, and boats had to request that the bridge opened – and if a train was coming, that request would be refused. In such a situation, the rounding up procedure described earlier at Hook came into play – only on this occasion made more difficult as the chain of barges was now twice as lengthy. At the time, as there was no radio communication between barge and bridge, a barge skipper didn’t know if the bridge would open. Instead, the bridge had coloured signals which bargemen called spectacles, which were similar to the coloured filters used in semaphore signals on the railway.

  ‘The railway jetty with its coal chute was where the tugs could get their bunkers filled. The goods station was just across Ousegate from the jetties. A man with a red flag marched into the middle of the carriageway to halt traffic as a full coal wagon was hauled across Ousegate onto the railway jetty. To deliver the coal the wagon bottom was “knocked out” and the coal shot down the chute into the tug’s bunker hold.

  Motorized barge passing through Selby Railway bridge. (Richard Moody)

  ‘When the signal on the railway bridge which looks like a pair of spectacles drops we know that they are swinging the Railway Bridge open for us. Once past the railway bridge, you’d give one long blast then you steamed through the Toll Bridge.’

  Selby’s second bridge, some 200 yards upstream and built a century earlier, is for the A19/A63 road crossing. The Toll Bridge, as it is universally known, although tolls were removed in 1991, was begun in 1791, and also swings open in the horizontal plane. River traffic always had right of way over road vehicles, so as soon as the rail bridge began to swing, the road men began to open theirs as well.

  As described earlier, the road bridge had a much narrower opening than the rail bridge. With a fully-loaded twenty-footwide barge travelling at least six knots, trying to get through a gap that’s less than forty feet wide – in other words just ten feet between barge and bridge – a steady and firm hand really was needed on the tiller! The Act authorizing the bridge also required that the vessels shall not be interrupted in their passage and that they shall have right of way over foot traffic. This was usually taken to require the channel to be clear in 30 seconds or so. Certainly with only 200 yards or so between the railway and road bridges, a rapid swing was vital.

  Vista of the Ouse at Selby. This vista shows a vessel approaching the already-opened railway swing bridge, with the road bridge in the foreground just beginning to open. On the right-hand bank between the bridges, Williamson’s jetty is still functional, with the railway jetty across Ousegate from the entrance to the old station, just this side of the rail bridge. Beyond lies the entrance to the Selby Canal and the horizontal steelwork of Cochrane’s Shipyard. Sturge’s jetty is obscured by the roof line of houses on the left bank. Beyond the industry, Willow Tree Rack stretches out.

  Tug Robie and barge Selby Pollux between Selby’s bridges, with OCO offices to the left, beyond Williamson’s wharf, on Ousegate. (www.oldbarnsley.com)

  A similar view of the Ousegate bank of the river at Selby between the bridges, taken in 2011, approximately 75 years later than the previous image. (Author)

  Until a new bridge was put in place in 1970, the swing was done purely by muscle power, turning a large cogged wheel. Electric motors were installed to work the new bridge but the original wheels are still to be seen on the wall of the bridgemen’s house.

  Extract from Selby Bridge Act 1791, stipulating the width of the opening span. (Author)

  Extract from Selby Bridge Act 1791, stipulating that river traffic had right of way. (Author)

  The aftermath of the collision of the Agility with Selby Toll Bridge, May 1930. Note the queue for the ferry to the left of the picture. The 1791 Act stipulated that the Toll Bridge Company had to provide a ferry should the bridge be unusable. (Laurie Dews)

  Cog wheels formerly used to operate Selby Toll Bridge, now mounted on side of Bridgeman’s cottage. (Author)

  Barges passing Selby Toll Bridge, 1968. (Richard Moody)

  ‘When we were lads we used to hang around the Toll Bridge and wait to see if any barges were coming through. If they were and the bridge needed swinging, sometimes the men would let us work the wheels to open the span. It was hard work, mind, but we did get paid half a crown for our trouble.’

  Navigation wasn’t as simple as pointing the bow of the barge at the gap. By this stage the river had narrowed to less than 200 feet wide, and there was the constant danger of falling athwart. On a few occasions, the bridge came off worse than the barge. This was famously the case in May 1930, when the inappropriatelynamed Agility didn’t live up to her name and smashed the bridge decking off the supports. In keeping with the requirements of the Act, the bridge company had to reinstate a ferry whilst the decking was repaired. Continual, although not quite as catastrophic, collisions such as this were the cause for the replacement of the original bridge in 1969–70.

  Harry Speight (R) and Laurie Dews (in cabin) on board the 'Selby Tony' as it passes under Selby Toll Bridge on the way upriver to the Barlby jetties. Note the girth of the rope in the foreground that the mate has to deal with. Beyond the bridge, note Williamson's wharf: the site of the housing development of 2015. (Laurie Dews)

  Even if the worst came to the worst and the craft did sink, salvage was still an option, but not always a successful one.

  ‘At Williamson’s Wharf on our port side, sloops used to bring bricks from Gilberdyke and Newport Brickworks up the Weighton River. One didn’t quite make its delivery. It was dragged aside by the river currents and lay athwart the bridge, then smashed against the breakwaters and sank. Skipper and crew clambered clear, and there were still hopes for the cargo. A simple job – just wait for the ebb tide, run a cable underneath the hull and lift the barge.

  ‘The only problem was that it was a wooden barge and the cable was steel. As soon as the cable started to take the weight it was too much for the wooden hull which broke in two. As far as I know 200 tons of best East Riding bricks are on the river bed – but the river broke up the barge over the next few tides.’

  Chapter 11

  MOORING UP AND UNLOADING AT BARLBY

  Once beyond the Toll Bridge, the concerns about navigation weren’t at an end. No more than 400 yards upstream, Scots Bight is a 120° bend to starboard, giving little sight of any oncoming vessels. However, just around the bend was where the OCO/BOCM wharves lay, so journey’s end was close, but further boat-handling skills were required.

  ‘Above the Toll Bridge on the port bow is Spillers’ Swan flour mill, also the Ideal flour mill and just in the bight is Scott’s oil mill, where the sloop Sprite, captained by John Gledhall, discharged cottonseed until 1939. This was the last sail-powered trading ship on this part of the Ouse.

  Also on the port side was a much older trading point – the medieval Abbots’ Staithe. This was the mighty stone-built warehouse where goods and materials that the Abbey traded were stored. This facility had been in place since at least the fourteenth century. This part of the river is also where the ferry plied its course in the days before the Toll Bridge.

  Dumb barges towed upriver of Selby Toll Bridge, approaching Scott’s bight. Leeds Jupiter is nearest the camera. The barges have been singled out. (www.oldbarnsley.com)

  Motorized barges upriver of Selby Toll Bridge circa 1968, approximately forty years later than the previous picture. (Laurie Dews)

  ‘Having passed through the Toll Bridge, we now have to berth. This could be a tricky manoeuvre depending on the state of the tide and the availability of mooring points.’

  In the early part of Laurie’s career, there were no jetties and mooring up required considerable skill in a procedure known as ‘mooring head and t
ails’. Even when proper jetties were constructed, this technique could come into play if the factory was busy. Wherever the barges were moored, industrial technology in the shape of an overhead railway, a runway and bucket elevators, latterly with vacuum pumps all came into play to empty the cargo as rapidly as possible. After all, time was money and the sooner the hold was emptied, the sooner the skipper could get paid.

  ‘It was only possible to moor up at Barlby for two hours either side of high tide. Before the jetty was built around 1937 or if there was no berth available there, vessels had to moor “heads and tails” against the river bank. Once we got past Scott’s mill, we all let go of the tow ropes and hauled them in on the deck side. Being unpowered, the barges now ran upstream with the current. The mate went to the fo’c’sle deck to lower the anchor which turned the barge around, and ran it into the river bank, putting the barge head to the incoming tide. Once it had grounded, a line was thrown and secured ashore and the anchor dropped at the stern. The other barges drifted upstream with the tide until the tide turned.

  ‘Once that happened they returned downstream. As they passed the secured vessel, a rope was thrown to the barge that was already moored. The “moored mate” pulled on this rope, dragging the fore end of the drifting barge into the river bank, and again, an anchor dropped at the stern. Once they had formed a pair, more ropes were fixed to fix the barges together. With two anchors holding the barges off the bank, resisting movement, whichever direction the tide was running and two ropes tied to chain rings or even sturdy trees ashore, the barges were now secure. When all ropes were fast, the two mates off the two barges would go to Olympia Mills workshop to get a “footing plank”. This was a long piece of timber used as a gangplank, which also helped to keep the barges off the bank. There were chains fastened into the bank, with rings for the barges to moor on to along the low side of Kirby’s Mill.