Mayfield Magazine 1951, Issue 08

From the Editorial by Brian Paddon: The term from Easter to Summer is always a most important one for all of us, but this year it is especially important because it is the Festival of Britain year. We have had arranged for visits to the South Bank Exhibition, South Kensington Science Exhibition, a number of displays in Ilford, and a choral speaking festival. Then we have some school activities. Sports Day, the Swimming Gala, some more plays by our school drama group, a school visit to Switzerland, and last but not least the annual exams.

From the Headmaster’s Review by C. F. W. Hicks: Unfortunately the bad weather during the winter months interfered with our football programme. School matches were completed, but the House competitions had to be abandoned. The outstanding feature of this season has been the part Roy Goulden has played in the successful Ilford Sun Team. This team has, to date, reached three competition finals. Congratulations, Roy, on your display at West Ham in the Sun Shield Final and on scoring Ilford’s goal in a hard-faught one-all draw.

Contributor List – Click on items shown as links to view the entries

School Visits by Brian Paddon
A Storm At Sea by Frank Tebbs
The Festival Of Britain by P. D. Wilson
“Meaty” Treasure by Norman Gray
Fog by P. Smith
My Hobby by Peter Herbert
Fire! by Frank Tebbs
A Robin by David Cracknell
Storm At Sea by James Males
Journey Of Fate by David J. Cracknell
The Kingfisher by J. Smith
The Festival Of Britain by Frank Tebbs
On The River Thames by Roy Painter
Mercy by Peter Herbert
Thoughts Into The Past by Roy Hale
The Dustman by R. B. Hale
“Gateway To Learning” by Derek Chambers
A Strange House by J. Fergus
Touring By Cycle In The Summer by Colin Byrnes
Robbery by T. Gocke
Sir Lancelot by D. Evans
Destination Venus by B. Thornton
Dangerous Mission by Paul Phillips
Mr. Jay Investigates by Maurice Russell
Signs Of Approaching Spring by E. Hook
The Cheerful Butcher by Terry Day
The Great Hunter by Frank Hale
Spring! by J. E. Bailey
A View Of The Thames By Moonlight by T. Gocke
1951 by John C. Gymer
Explosion! by D. Griffiths

A Storm At Sea by F. Tebbs
June the sixth, 1798.
The heavily laden cargo vessel ‘La Chasse’ sailed majestically out of the crowded Dover harbour. Her stout oak bow cut its way through the deep, blue-green water. The white canvas sails swelled under the forceful wind. The slow, dancing motion of the vessel, as she bounded along under a stiff breeze, made it hard work for the burly helmsman to keep a steady course. Midshipmen stumbled to their work on the sails.
As the land gradually receded from view a fresh sea breeze swept the ship. It was cleaner and sharper than the dusty land breezes, and it meant that the ship was gliding swiftly seawards. The stout guy ropes were taut. The wind increased its impetuous strength. A cold salt-water spray crossed the lower deck and crashed on to the poop. The vessel started to roll slowly.
Suddenly a huge wave struck the ship and came crashing over the bows, deluging the deck and sweeping all before it, until it found its way out at the stern. With the wave went the last vestige of dryness. Another wave crashed on deck, just forward of the main rigging, and falling upon a large boat which lay bottom up upon the main hatchway crushed her as completely as though men with axes had stove her to pieces. The foresail split and was blown from the yard, not a sign of it being left. Even the reef, which was fast to the yard, went gradually strip by strip.
A wave of tremendous strength crashed broadside on to the ship. Two small cannon were tugged furiously from the stout ropes holding them and hurled with terrific force across the flooded deck. Meanwhile, the helmsman was making a determined effort to keep ‘La Chasse’ on her first appointed course. But no man could hold the stout oak wheel against such a powerful sea. The wheel spun freely. The helmsman collapsed exhausted. ‘La Chasse’ swung to a new position with her battered stem facing the mountainous waves.
Another roaring, dark, angry wave hit the helpless vessel. The small windows at the stern of ‘La Chasse’ were torn from their lead frames. Rigging, which had been pulled from its original place by the heavy wind, now dangled from the swaying masts. The sturdy timbers groaned and creaked. Suddenly the spritsail crashed on to the rolling deck and was washed off into the angry, black depths of water. The sea rolled on in its rage but the wind ceased suddenly. Another wave crashed against the ship. The vessel lurched and wallowed through the seas.
Water flooded the cabins below deck. ‘La Chasse’ lay low in the sea. The water became moderately quiet, but a long rolling swell still outlived the storm. Many unlucky men had died on that ship, which brought fine silk from India. Would the people who wore that silk think of the men who had laid down their lives to procure their luxurious clothing? Perhaps not. The dead men were buried at sea.
‘You need no spade to dig a sailor’s grave.’