The flags over the harbour offices were once flying again at half-mast even before Joe Andrews' wake at the Penlee Lifeboat House had taken place when news that Nicky 'Noddy' Cripps and his encouraging words were no longer going to be heard in and around the harbour.
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| The handline fleet at the Longships, Lands End: PZ527 Boy Gary crewed by Nicky and Chris Cripps, Malcolm Muller and Rob Marks |
Nick, like many youngsters had moved south west in search of work and was one of those hungry youngsters who, having begun fishing aboard the Scath Ros with Derek Soulsby, jumped at the chance when offered a berth aboard the tosher Penberth, skippered and owned John 'Jan' Thomas who was desperate for crew to help pay off his new boat going netting and handlining. That jump was to be the start of a relationship that was to become a part of Newlyn fishing lore. This was to be no ordinary relationship though - to say it was a love-hate thing would be wrong, to say it was a match made in heaven would be even more wrong. Whatever it was between the two of them it was one of huge mutual respect - born of pragmatism and actions rather than words - though when there were words, there were words and plenty of them!
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| L-R Record-breakers: Rob Marks, Malcolm and Noddy aboard the Boy Gary |
Perhaps a few anecdotal stories give a better sense of how two strong-willed and single-minded fishermen both carved their mark on the fishing history in Newlyn over the last 50 years. Eventually, Nicky was to skipper all of the boats that Jan was to own over the years. Nicky as better known as Noddy - his hair and facial feature being not dissimilar to Slade's Noddy Holder. But let's not get ahead.
Wind the clock back to when the Boy Gary had just arrived in Newlyn as a new build from Toms Yard at Polruan. A young Robert Freethy, off on his summer holidays from school aged just 13, is doing his first trip to sea aboard the Boy Gary alongside fellow crew Nicky and brother Chris. Young Robert is about to discover first hand the joys of being at sea on the confines of a 39ft fishing boat for three days when two unbending personalities collide.
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| Nicky on the rail. |
On this occasion, not long after passing the Runnelstone buoy and headed for the Scillies, something has narked both Nicky and skipper Jan - a situation that was to be repeated on a regular basis for their entire working partnership lives (asking either of them years later what would instigate these rows would produce just blank looks). A now, less than happy Nicky, is searching down below for a consoling cigarette. In the wheelhouse, and in order to make his point and settle the issue, skipper John has found the carton of 200 cigarettes (a necessary item of stores for three days at sea for Nicky and brother Chris who both smoked) and tossed them over the side. "Where are my fags?" screams Nicky coming up on deck, "over there" says Jan, pointing astern to the floating carton fast receding into the distance. Three days at sea and your skipper has thrown all your fags over the side.
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| Dogfish bonanza! - 100 stone piles of dogs line the quay |
Little did those who fished then realise as it seemed there was never enough fish out there to be caught, in many ways the late '70s and '80s were to be the heydays of inshore Cornish fishing. With the giant shoals of mackerel moving ever-north and westwards and the introduction of the 'Mackerel Box' another fish was to about to further the fortunes of canny skippers in the inshore fleet - dogs!
Right on cue, here is Nicky, sharing his legendary sense of humour with huge grin to camera, holding just one of the fish that was to see him along with brother Chris, Malcolm Muller, Rob Marks and skipper Jan with the Boy Gary smash the port record making £37,000 for the trip. Fishing was so heavy at that time, guys on shore were paid to come and pick out the fish from the nets while Janner and the boys got their heads down for a few hours aboard the boat before heading back out to haul the rest of the nets.
Another fisherman who went on to become skipper/owner in his own right cut his teeth on the Boy Gary alongside Nicky and recalls another incident.
"On one trip, as we were coming in to land from the Lizard, the boat was full of dogs. Nicky and I were busy lowering the mizzen when the engine started to ease down, spluttering off the Mopas.Jan shouted back to Nicky, "Jump down and switch to the duplex filter!"But it wasn’t the filter—we were bone dry. Realising we were out of fuel, Jan looked at the two of us and screamed, "Who the **** took fuel last?!"I didn't want to drop my mate in it, but what can you do? I looked Jan dead in the eye and shook my head to confirm it wasn't me. He went mental on Nicky, but Nicky, being Nicky, wasn't about to take any of his shit.In the end, we had to call John Wilcox. He was steaming in from the westward with a clean hold—not a single fish on board. It was pretty embarrassing for him to have to stop and help, but he was always obliging."
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| A poker-faced Nicky studies his hand. |
"The atmosphere at the mission was always entertaining, especially when Jan and Nicky squared off at the snooker table. Jan would do everything in his power to put Nicky off his shot, but if Nicky actually looked like winning—or heaven forbid, actually did—Jan would become as teasy as an adder, and the rest of us (me, Muller, and Rob Marks) would be the ones to suffer for it! Because of that, the three of us used to secretly hope Nicky would lose, often with a few side bets placed on the outcome!"
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| Janner and Nicky engaging in conversation |
"Of course, the best story of all happened before my time: the famous incident of Jan hitting the Bucks. As the story goes, it was entirely Nicky’s fault, despite the fact that he wasn’t even on board at the time! While the chaos was unfolding, Nicky was actually out mackerel fishing in Jan’s punt, blissfully unaware of the trouble he’d stirred up back at the ship!"
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| Gary M heading home through the gaps |
As the fishing for inshore boats prospered throughout the '80s and '90s, Nicky went on to further his career as both crew and skipper for Jan. At one time or another the Boy Gary, Galwad-y Mor, Gary M and Ocean Spray all saw Nicky on deck or in the wheelhouse. Sadly, in 1997, Nicky's brother Chris died at sea after he went overboard from the Ocean Spray while netting off the Lizard.
At some time or other in his time at sea and being the consummate fisherman that he was, Nicky fished from the smallest to the biggest boats in Newlyn. In the latter years he was content to make a living going back to his roots fishing from a punt mainly handlining for mackerel or chasing elusive bass.
Eventually, Nicky opted for 'easy' life ashore and enjoyed every hour of his time working on, and then running the overnight fish sorting, weighing and grading of all the fish landed to the market.
Morning time, after a long night shift, Nicky would be found in the Harbour Cafe, which was now the place for breakfast after the demise of the Mission, where he could be heard putting the world to rights in his own inimitable way.
Of course, it wouldn't be right not to let this opportunity to recall one of the more legendary stories for which Newlyn developed its reputation as a place where the the harder you worked the harder you played. Some of those local exploits were once aired on TV in the series, Britains Most Dangerous Pubs featuring one well-known local hostelry just around the corner from the less infamous and more decorous, Harbour Cafe.
On this particular morning in 1982, inside the cafe resembled a scene from the TV series M.A.S.H. after a certain Mr Cripps' stag night. The full, but unusually subdued cafe, was full of banging headaches, battered and bruised hands and faces and even an arm in a sling (Mad Joe's) the result of a collision with an unidentified opponent from the early hours of the morning in a venue the other side of Penzance town. To compound the agony of some, the cafe's proprietor had also run out of painkillers
The previous night's proceedings (like that other famous adventure involving Newlyn fishermen, the voyage of the Mystery) commenced in the Star where the stag in question was gifted a steel float and chain, forcefully shackled to his ankle and which he was then forced to carry around with him all night; things could only get better. After a 'couple' in the Star, the stag party, now involving nearly 30 of the port's most 'up for it' young fishermen also included none other than legendary Mevagissey skipper, Freddie Turner; a man of action rather than words, then proceeded into Penzance eventually ending up in the Admiral Benbow at closing time. In those days, this was the middle stage of a familiar route taken by any serious night out involving fishermen determined to make the most of it - Newlyn, Penzance, end up at the Barn Club.
With all hands now having consumed at least the recommended daily intake of alcohol every half hour, what went down next might today be viewed in a slightly dim light - these were not the Gen Z generation. When it came to getting the stag from the Benbow to the Barn Club it was fellow crewman and head of transport logistics, Malcolm Muller who provided the solution - 16, not including the driver, all climbed aboard his Mk II Ford Cortina. As testified by a young Robert Freethy who recalled finding himself dragged into the back and jammed across the parcel shelf be fore being driven the other side of town to the Barn Club.
Once in the Barn all hands got down to the serious business of having a good time - this in the days of 11 o'clock closing time for pubs and 1am for a club like the Barn - drinking time was of the essence! Of course, most of the Barn's customers were just young Penzance night-time revellers out to have a good time dancing the night away to the club's resident DJs.
Accounts of the events that followed are as blurred as the memories of all those involved. Someone said something to someone and before anyone knew all hell broke loose after one of the club's bouncers waded in to sort out a 'problem' on the dance floor in a way that might be seen as, a little 'over the top' in the way such matters might be handled today. Suffice to say, one of the someone's concerned was one of the stag party - and, what could be more provoking to a now totally up for it crew than seeing one of their own getting 'picked on' by a bouncer. It was carnage.
Almost immediately the night air was filled with the two-tone sirens and the blue flashing lights outside were more than a match for the disco lights inside as the police arrived in the Barn Club's car park to rescue a handful of now battered bouncers from the fishermen who had had their stag night blighted by such inappropriate bouncer behaviour. An incident involving a lofted ashtray aimed at a fisherman didn't help matters.
The well-outnumbered police were now somewhat challenged. In an attempt to sort things out, one of the stag party had been handcuffed behind his back and bundled in the back of a police Panda. Seizing a brief chance when the attending constable was called away to yet another fracas, the cuffed crewman escaped the confines of the car, got his cuffed hands under his feet and make good his escape back to Newlyn where, down on one of the boats, a hacksaw was employed to secure his release from custody - much sawing and gashed wrists later he was free to turn in for what remained of the night.
Nicky, with luck on his side, escaped unwanted attention from others owing largely to the encumbrance of the chain and steel bobbin still shackled around his ankle. It was said that the wedding day itself was a more peaceful and fitting affair.
From a naive, youthful exuberance start through years of working, learning and playing hard along the way, Nicky's life very much mirrors that of his generation of Newlyn inshore fishermen. In the early years there was very little by way of rules to abide by, no quotas, no logbooks, almost no paperwork, no medicals, no over the top MCA regulations crudely designed and implemented to include small inshore vessels in order to protect those on much bigger vessels.
In stark contrast to today, the harbour back then was full of youngsters like Nicky keen to do whatever it took to earn a living as a fisherman. Almost nothing back then stood in the way of someone determined to make the best of a way of life and get their justly deserved rewards. Youngsters went to sea when still at primary school, skived off when at secondary school and earned more in a day handlining for mackerel than their teachers earned in a week; all without someone shouting, "It's slave labour, you're beig exploited!', or today as one skipper of a single-handed punt found himself being castigated for not recording not doing a monthly 'man overboard' drill when it was just him on his boat - a world of change all of which Nicky experienced at first hand and saw play out over the course of what would be his too short a life.
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| How we would all like to remember Noddy! |
