Fa – the Green Dragon

A Place for the Odd Musings of an Expat Bristolian

Category Archives: Bristol


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At The Corner

At the corner, just up the street,

is a wonderful place for a wonderful treat.

No other country, no other land,

has this treat which you eat by hand.

That’s right! Your fingers get so greasy,

Try it you’ll like it because it’s easy.

Potatoes peeled and cut into sticks,

and when they’re fried we call them chips.

Cod, Halibut or Plaice and sometimes Sole,

as good as soup but, without the bowl.

We’re talking fish, serious fish.

When battered and fried it’s just delish!.

Flaky mouthfuls of fish so white,

tender and tasty at every bite.

And then we add some things thereto,

pepper and salt and malted brew;

to soak up all the fat they say.

But, actually it’s just another way,

to make this treat taste good for me,

whether it be for my lunch or tea.

I heard they throw new stuff into the frier.

Mars Bars? Ugh, you’re such a liar!

No, it’s true an idea that’s new,

Deep fried dessert, a melted goo.

Ah! no such muck will pass my lips;

Not when I’ve got fish and chips.

Written July 10th, 2000.

 

 


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Who Invented Fish and Chips? (in newspaper)

For the past few weeks I have been digging in my spare time for papers, packed long ago and forgotten for a few years. I did mention some time ago that years ago I had written poetry about Fish and Chips. For those of you who are from the U.K. or have visited the british Isles this will be no mystery. However, for some, this may be new. Fish and Chips used to be a staple throughout the country, until perhaps the advent of Indian “take-out”. Anyway, be that as it may, here is a short piece I found which I wrote on June 10th, 2000.

For the Brits, you may remember advertising for England’s Glory matches.

Who Invented Fish and Chips (in newspaper)

Dr. Foster went to Gloucester

for some matches ran the story.

For a certain strike and steady flame,

he asked for England’s Glory.

But that story’s old folk lore,

it was Fish and Chips he went there for.

So back to Bristol on his horse,

There were no buses then of course (not even late ones).

But, from his quest he was prevented,

because Fish and Chips had not been invented.

So to his spouse he said “Right!”

Let’s make some Fish and Chips tonight.

But how? she said, “what is this dish?”

and “what are chips that go with fish?”

“Just watch this spud” the Doctor cried,

“soon he’ll be peeled and cut and fried”

“And what about the fish, does that not matter?”

“wife get some flour and water and make some batter!”

And with this mix, just like skin,

The dead fish in hot fat learnt how to swim.

The dead fish swam around and round,

until he turned a golden brown.

Too hot to eat, so, until later,

they laid him out on last night’s paper.

The Doctor said said he could not linger,

and began to delve with just a finger.

And just to get some more,

he found it better if he used four.

And Mrs. Foster said “I need some salt,

and soured cider with some malt,

and give me pepper by the peck.

This tastes so good so what the heck?’

So here ends this fishy story.

Fish and Chips were England’s Glory!

But there is a sequel to this ryhme

I’ve pondered it from time to time.

Because, Dr. Foster did not stop there,

he went to Oz (Australia) and invented beer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Footloose

When I was footloose and fancy free

I had an urge to go to sea.

But in truth a ship I could not find

I had read about the Golden Hind.

The only ship that lay at anchor

The owner a local merchant banker.

She was the good ship Walrus

Just as well you did not see us

A motley crew that was quite true

But our hearts were keen and our fears were few.

Some press-ganged from too much ale

Consigned for now to help her sail,

And follow on the breeze

Bound to the west and open seas.

First our heading north through the Irish Sea and past the Mull of Kintyre.

Through lightning and heavy rain I saw St. Elmo’s fire.

A good omen I was told, to see a ship aglow

Old sailors taking in the storm as just another show.

Captain Yarman spoke to us next day

To explain how we would earn our pay.

You work in watches by the bell.

What that meant was hard to tell.

Then spoke the Bo ‘sun a sullen fellow

But beneath his gruff he seemed quite mellow.

Stay sober, be on time and that was it.

Oh! Be clean and always stow your kit.

Leave nothing loose below these decks

The surest way to break your necks

When the seas run high you mark my word

Never tell me you never heard.

That night was ever northward

Towards the midnight sun

And then as the dawn was breaking

We steered for our westward run.

Bound for the Cayman Islands and Montego Bay

Rum at Aunt Jema’ah’s place,

And while the ship was lading a little time to stray.

Those were good days, sailing on the tide.

But some years later my heart was claimed

For now I had a bride.

Her blood ran hot with cayenne spice

And I a land lubber in a trice.

Set now to growing vegetables

And digging in my plot

No longer footloose nor fancy free

Only to dream of days at sea.

The nights when in my hammock swung

Rolling with the waves

And in between the swells I thought

What have I learned in life, what lessons has it taught?

A list counted in my mind.

The most important I could find:

Never forget your passion.

Live life clean and tidy.

Ship shape and Bristol fashion.


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The Burnham Light

The Burnham Light

Peering through the darkness and descending fog

We see the Burnham Light

It will surely guide us

On this frightful night.

It’s a welcome beacon that we see,

 off our starboard side.

We start our final homeward stretch

Upon the rising tide.

At Avon’s estuary we sound

Two blasts upon our horn

But there is no returning sound to us,

 on this cold and wintry morn.

Slow steam ahead the captain calls

And through telegraph relayed

And in the engine room below

Slow steam ahead displayed.

The engines go quite quiet,

Just the surf we hear.

As through the mist we forge ahead

Our hearts filled with fear.

The cold night air upon the deck

Chills one to the liver.

Upon the bridge, a friendly smile

Hello captain, my name’s Tom

Your pilot for the river.

We enter in the stream

Green and red lights in our spotlight beam

Steady on the port side Sir

And slow astern I deem.

Our vessel she’s the Monterrey

And she has served us well

With St. Brendan as our guide

She’s brought us through the swell.

The worst is Biscay bay

When storms come from the west

The back of our old vessel

Is put unto the test.

But now we approach home port

And hearts we left behind.

This sailing an adventure;

No regrets for which I signed.

I’ve got my book and pay galore

And glad to step ashore

But I know that in a week or two

My heart will yearn for more.


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A Tanka about Tanks

rtr-flagMany years ago, I joined the 3rd Royal tank Regiment. Many of the soldiers in the unit were like me, from the West Country (of the U.K.). We were nick-named “The “Armoured Farmers“.
On November the 20th, 1917 tanks were used for the very first time in battle.
The Tank regiment motto is Fear Naught. Its regimental colours are Brown, red and green. Through the mud and the blood to the green fields beyond.

Nineteen seventeen
Tanks were first used in battle.
Germans were surprised,
at the Battle of Cambrai.
Through mud and blood to green fields.


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Memory Dredging – 60’s Bristol

Teddy Boys, think back
Beetle Crushers on their feet.
They ruled evening streets.