Tag Archives: alameda gardens

2:53 (1977) From the wilderness to paradise.

20 Saturday Aug 2016

Posted by in Gibraltar, Memoirs of Gibraltar, ROYAL NAVY

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The very first photo I took of our new daughter Benita was with her sisters Tracey and Samantha and their Mum in – (you got it) – Alameda Gardens. Where else? I guess over the years Alameda has become quite a spiritual place for me in that I’ve always found it a comforting place to be whenever I’ve needed to think things through and so to celebrate happy times there seemed to be a natural progression. 
(1977 July. Benita’s first photo with my wife Carol and her sisters Tracey and Samantha. I love this xxxx)

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As I took this photo – looking at my family through the eye of a camera lens – I felt the luckiest man in the world and that nothing could compare or even come close. Sometimes I could barely believe how much my life had changed in such a relatively short space of time; within just a few years I felt as though I’d stepped out of the dark, frightening and lonely wilderness of childhood and landed literally in paradise. It would always be against that backdrop that I would become fiercely protective of my herd; and as a result I would always see Gibraltar through my eyes as paradise.

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When I first began writing my memoirs I think I said I wasn’t a particularly skilled writer just someone able to put down a few anecdotes and somehow string them together. As my memoirs have progressed I stand by that but would probably add that in addition to the anecdotes I appear to have a tendency of throwing in my emotions plus plus. When I’ve rationalised that I’ve thought well what is the point of writing memoirs if I didn’t throw my emotions into it? No point.
I say that because there have been times when (almost overcome with powerful feelings while writing about an emotive subject) I’ve manically scribbled massively long paragraphs only to have to go back later and edit them down. The fact many of those feelings have remained so strong after forty years is probably one reason I felt the need to write these tales in the first place although today (as a marginally more mature man) I do now at least edit before I publish. As a younger man I was far less tactful – although no writer I often fired off verbally without properly thinking things through.

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Just thinking about being less tactful and more firey takes me back to many a meeting I had with my line manager, Petty Officer Brian, who over a period of months tried all ways possible to persuade me to reverse my notice and stay in the Royal Navy. Our meetings were always private between us, pulled no punches and became more frequent (and stroppy) as time began running out. The divide between Naval life and Family life was becoming wider by the day.

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Brian: “Alan you have your family to consider”.

Me: “That’s exactly why I’m leaving”.

Brian: “Don’t do anything rash. Think of your career”.

Me: “Every time shit hits my family fan the Navy shove my career in my face to stop me sorting it”. 
Brian: “You look tired. Have a few days leave”.

Me: “My mind is made up and that’s the end of it”.

Brian: “Let’s have a couple of pints tonight at the Fleet Pav. My shout”.

Me: “I can’t I’m organising the children’s Christening with Carol”

Brian: “Ok. Well have a nice evening, we’ll chat tomorrow”.

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As I cruise towards the end of this chapter (and with our time in Gibraltar fast coming to a close) I can still feel the pain of having to choose between the two things in life I’d only ever loved. Of course there was never any contest or competition, my family would always come first in any given scenario, and still does. But that would never take away the personal sense of loss I would carry for the next forty years.

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2:40 (1976) The winds of change are blowing…

28 Thursday Jul 2016

Posted by in Gibraltar, Memoirs of Gibraltar, ROYAL NAVY

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(1976 Alameda Gardens Gibraltar. Carol, Tracey and Sam. An absolute favourite photo xxx)

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As 1976 rolled on it was lovely to see the children increasingly bond as Sam became more aware of her surroundings (and the people in her life) and Tracey began enjoying having a sister; Carol too was very much more settled now that we were finally ensconced in our married quarter at Edinburgh House.



(1976 Fleet Pav Gibraltar. Carol, Me, Babs, Betty and Jim Simm)

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For a short time Carol’s Mum Babs came to stay with us when life was very difficult for her; she had separated from Carol’s dad Viv and I guess she just needed to get herself together. For Carol to allow her to come was quite an act of kindness because they’d never had the strongest of relationships, Carol was far closer to her Dad and (in truth) was more concerned about him but it was Babs who asked to come and stay. If I remember rightly Carol put a caveat on the arrangement that Babs needed to get a job and fund her own needs and so for a time she worked in the English Tea Rooms; I think she also played the piano a couple of times at the play school for a backhander. During her stay we naturally brought her into our social circle and had many an outing with her around our haunts but eventually (after a few months I think) she decided to return to UK. It’s never easy having a house guest for an extended period of time and so I guess (without being unkind) we were glad to have our lives back; I think due to her being older she was quite intolerant of little children and so the arrangement could never have been long term.


(1976 At home in Edinburgh House)

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Sometime during September 1976 Carol found out that she was once again pregnant and though we were shocked we were also thrilled; as we pondered some of the challenges of having three children at the age of 22 we also thought about the advantages (one being we would still be relatively young when they were adults and our grandchildren arrived). 
But without racing ahead with excitement (which I did anyway because I was a bloke and nothing was going to get in the way of my joy) we had to start thinking about practicalities; the baby would be due in July 1977 which in Gibraltar was a hot month and probably not the most pleasant for a heavily pregnant woman – and if Carol had pregnancy complications requiring her to stay in hospital for periods of time I was going to need support with the girls. Always lurking at the back of my mind was how I felt shocked and let down by the RN when they refused me leave after Sam was born and nearly died; as that thought pervaded all my senses I suddenly became terrified of something horrible happening and me not being there for my family.

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As if by fate I think it was about mid-October 1976 when the RN introduced a brand new exit strategy for servicemen wanting to leave the Navy; if a man gave 18 months notice he could leave freely, without penalty and with an exemplary discharge. The winds of change were blowing….

1:6 (1974) Feeling accepted, as though I belonged

02 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by in Gibraltar, ROYAL NAVY

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Taking a walk through Alameda gardens is something -he says trying to hide his bias and failing miserably – everyone should do at least once in their life; it should be on their bucket list alongside visiting the Taj Mahal (and climbing the Mediterranean Steps of course). That’s probably not the sort of thing people would expect an 18 year old sailor to say and I don’t deny my shipmates found it just a little odd; there is sometimes a certain expectation on testosterone fuelled young men to do what most people expected testosterone fuelled young men to do.

 
But one of the fabulous things about life in the Royal Navy is that everyone loves and respects each other’s passions in life. Sportsmen are supported, artistic achievements are applauded, all sorts of individual and team efforts are encouraged from chess and long distance running to rugby and the Field Gun Crew.

 
Many of my friends new something of my childhood days and how as a result I loved to wander, climb, discover, meet new people and just enjoy the beautiful aspects of our world as a sort of cathartic way of diluting past pains and replacing negative memories with lovely ones. There was a sort of unspoken understanding. Throughout my life I’ve often found peace in writing and in the arts as can be seen on my website spailpinfanac.com and my skills with a pencil were always very much appreciated by my shipmates; I often illustrated their letters home to their loved ones.

 
Looking up from Alameda gardens I could see quite an imposing triangular building which I later discovered was Trafalgar House. I could never have known that one day I would live there with my family. After the RN failed the flat above the Angry Friar I went off and found another one on the top floor of Trafalgar House and it passed their inspection. It wasn’t long before I set up my arty corner.

 
Alameda gardens are not exceptionally vast but are very beautiful; they are built on a gentle slope almost in front of the Rock Hotel. The Rock Hotel has a reputation of being very exclusive to wealthy people and looking up at it from Alameda I would never have thought that in a few years time my wife and I would have the occasional evening out there when we could afford it. Casting my memory back I think they had a steak night with bingo on a Friday and it was a real treat if we were able to get a sitter for the girls, dress up a little and enjoy a walk out from our home at 21 Edinburgh House.


As I walked around Alameda I felt as though I was in that film Labyrinth with the fabulous David Bowie; the paths through the gardens were both wide and narrow winding around beautiful tropical plants, herbs, shrubs and statues. Every so often there was somewhere to sit and just think, reflect or ponder. I sat on a concrete bench along one of the slimmest of paths where there were a variety of amazing cacti. As I admired the cacti I saw a group of young scouts walking along one of the other paths a few yards away. Some years later I would be asked to design a First Day Cover for the same Scout Troop and although the artwork wasn’t particularly brilliant I was pleased to be asked. Being asked to do something like that felt like being accepted, as though I belonged.