Читать книгу Rum Bum and Baccy - Bernie Howard - Страница 9

Portsmouth in the sixties and seventies was one big playground for sailors. There were enough pubs on every street for a pub crawl and enough sailors to fill every pub.

One of my favourites was the Alderman – it was always full of unforgettable characters. “Gypsy Pete” was a gay who would mince in and sit on a high stool at the bar so he could see himself in the bar mirror. After getting his first pint he’d start to preen himself in the mirror, combing his hair and pouting his lips. This would continue for a few pints when he would start to fall out with himself, ending up in a full-blown argument where he would be calling his reflection every expletive under the sun. “Big Silve” was another regular never to be forgotten. Silve was a large lady of the night or in her case a lady of twenty-four hours. Not a person to mess with as she could and would fight like a man. Apparently she had tattoos at the top of both of her legs – one saying, “Sailors Rest” and the other one saying, “Pay Before You Enter”. I was enjoying a drink one summer dinner time when, apart from sailors, there were a lot of holidaymakers in the pub. As Silve walked in she shouted across to me saying, “Get us a pint of scrumps love, I’m just going for a shit.” No, Silve wasn’t the type to take home and meet mum but she had a heart of gold.

Just down from Unicorn Dockyard gates there were two very cheap eating establishments which also had reasonably priced rooms to rent. They were both run for the Navy. Aggie Weston’s was one and the Trafalgar Club was the other. Although the prices were as cheap as you’d get, me and a mate Nicky Whelan devised a plan where we ate for free and no queuing, as after the pubs had shut these were very popular establishments. What we’d do was go straight to the front of the queue and grab a clean plate and cutlery, and then we’d head for the tables that had been vacated but not yet cleared away. We would then pile our plates with leftovers – half a sausage from here, a leftover yolk from another; chips and beans were in abundance and bread was always available. Whelan even got fussy and started to go for just what was still warm. Sometimes we’d really go to town and grab leftover half-eaten sweets as well. This really was fine dining.

Every now and again I’d have a night out at the dog track. Portsmouth Dog Track only had five dogs in each race and I always bet traps two and five in a forecast. This meant you had to get first and second to win. One night I won on quite a few occasions and bagged a total of £36, which was the equivalent of more than a month’s pay. At the track here was also a casino, so with my new wealth I thought I’d wager some of it on blackjack and become richer. In the casino I sat down at the blackjack table and ordered a fine cigar and a double scotch. The dealer was a young girl who was very well gifted in the bosom department. For the moment I felt like a king. Unfortunately, half an hour later I had to walk back to my ship in the rain with not a penny left. Easy come, easy go.

On Navy Days, Portsmouth would be packed with sightseers, sailors, parents, girlfriends and anyone with a following of the Navy. Ships and shore establishments were packed with visitors – pubs and restaurants were extremely busy. I went ashore with a good mate of mine from East Dereham at dinner time; our first call was the very first pub straight over the road from the Main Dockyard gate. For whatever reason I can’t remember I got into a fight at the bar, which escalated into a three-pub free for all. There must have been a hundred involved. Police and Naval Patrol arrived but instead of arresting people, it seemed they wanted some fun or had had a bad day, because they joined in as well. When reinforcements arrived, in the words of John Wayne, “We got the hell out of there,” and were saved from being arrested.

Portsmouth was also a great place for live entertainment. I went to see the Rolling Stones in the Guildhall. I was waiting outside when they arrived and Mick Jagger minced past with a white poodle and the crowd went wild. The Savoy Dance Hall in Southsea used to book Manfred Mann and I saw them on a few occasions. Also at the Mecca I went to see Eric Burdon and the Animals, who were brilliant.