The First of Friday in PB

(OK, so this is the first of Friday in Port Brokeferry and followers of this project will recall that each new day starts with an 'official' document that pertains to the history, geography, sociology etc of PB. So here's something in that vein.)

A VISIT BY A BIG FELLOW FROM THE UNIVERSITY IN EDINBURGH

HH was a big man. He had to duck to pass through the doors of the houses in Port Brokeferry and he did not fit the tables or chairs that we sat at. His clothes did not hang natural on him and for all his height he looked half a man in his jacket and trousers. He was from the University in Edinburgh. The school of Scottish Studies is what he said. He drove a small van that stuttered and coughed when he started the engine; it frighted the dogs and the children. HH was affable enough and at the same time serious in what he was about.

He gave a talk in the church hall. It was well attended, I thought. Everyone was respectful in their silence. Mrs MacKinnon had the hall laid out nice and she had made sandwiches and there was beer for after the talking. HH said he was collecting songs and stories. He was looking for singers and musicians. He had a big box that he explained would record the voice and the music. He was after old songs, he told us. Not ones that could be heard on the wireless. He was making a document of all the songs in Scotland before they disappeared. The University gave him time to do that!

Annie Bell was the natural choice. Although her voice was a little cracked now that she was in her seventies, she could still hold a tune and her head was full of songs. She boasted that she never forgot a song that she had learned. HH set up his machine there in the hall and Annie stood at the front. She looked a little nervous and very small standing next to the big man. He reassured her that there was nothing to worry about.

Annie sang just the one song. Then she said she’d had enough for now and that it would take a glass or two of whisky to get her singing more. She could be like a child sometimes. The song she sang was ‘The Lost Boat’. It was a favourite of hers. Annie had lost her husband before the war and singing the song made her remember him. She sang it with some emotion that night.

The song is reproduced below.

THE LOST BOAT

There’s a bonnie man I love and he loves me

And we hae been the gither a lang enough time

So’s I ken a’ his thoughts times afore he does

An’ I like to think an’ maybe he kens mine.

So I knew soon as he did, I swear it true -

He was out at the fishin’ and the sea a’ flung,

I saw the nets were torn and the boat was takin’ water,

An’ I knew ma bonnie man’s time was run.

I called out his name, loud as a woman may cry

And I saw he raised his een and he turned to me his ear

Then he held his arms high as if tae hold me close

An’ he called out my name and said he loved me dear.

I waited on the shore till dark gied way tae light

And in the yellow o’ a new day a sad song I sang

It is the saddest song and the seals do ken it weel

For they aye come to listen an’ to see what ‘tis that’s wrang.

‘Tis a boat is lost I tell you, an’ three o’ oor best men

And yin’s a bonnie man loved me an’ I loved him

An’ time has passed and a lot of time, but aye

I miss a bonnie man loved me an’ I loved him.

(A Report from The Historical Society of Port Brokeferry, January 23^rd 1953.)

Annie Bell died a year after the public singing of ‘The Lost Boat’. She was seventy nine years of age. The taped recording remains in the archive of HH at The University of Edinburgh. The above is the only published transcription although reference to the song was made in a recent publication entitled ‘The Sea Can Be Cruel: Songs of the Scottish Fishermen,’ Published by Faraday Books, 2004.