My dad was a garston docker from 1930s toi 1970's he was a contemporary of the Union leader jack Jones who went off to the Spanish Civil War.
My Dad used to unload Sulphur (he would come home covered in this smelly yellow powder, not very healthy or hygenic), bananas (we used to live eat and breath bananas in the 1960's either side of the fireplace we had cupboards filled with ripening bananas, complete with tree frogs and the odd tarantula....cur Harry Belafonte deyyyyyyyyyyoooooo) oranges and peanuts. He had a sling of timber drop on his foot and broke it, with the over £100 compensation was spent on our first telly in the late 50's (I was born in 56)
We used to live off King Street just a stones throw away, me dad also had his "dog" with him all the time, his dog was a sort of long handled thing with a metal point at the end he also had a range of dockers hooks.
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Every Sunday me Dad would dress up and take me for a walk aroudn the docks, on one of these walks I remember an old fashioned diver being lowered into the docks looking for a docker or a seaman who had fallen and drowned.
My Dad like his ale and would often spend the afternoon on the "welt", a sort of drinkign session which was condoned by the unions and bosses. He would often go for a drink with Soviet Captains of the Timber Ships and bring home
metallic russian badges wiht pictures of Lenin and marx.
The dockers also all had nicknames, cant remember me dad's. Anyone else got stories of garston dock.
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