Baby roughseas in the north sea

So many favourites here – where to start?

Well, the Clark Gable type figure on the left is my Uncle Jack, my mother is wearing my very favourite dressing up frock (when she got fed up of wearing it), and darllng Tarquin is looking up at me smiling. My dad is the one going bald in his mid-thirties holding Tarquin.

No idea who the bloke next to him is. Could have cropped him out but I wanted the terraces in the background, with which, onto the buildings.

The white building behind Uncle Jack and my mother is the Pier Buffet. Well known to Bridlingtonians of a certain age, because yes, this is Bridlington, Yorkshire, and we are on a walk down the harbour, probably after a beer or two (not me). I was let loose on my own in Brid before I was left alone in my home town. I could always find the Pier Buffet and Mary who was behind the bar would tell me where my parents were.

Those were the days before double glazing and when people looked after (or maybe not) their sash windows. Adore the symmetry of that Victorian corner terrace. (Which was why I didn’t crop unknown man out of the pic).

Uncle Jack is not wearing boots. It is just the light, or shade on his trousers.

I had two Uncle Jacks. This was not a ‘real’ one, but one of my parents’ friends. Once, at some family do, I was asked to go give Uncle Jack a kiss, so naturally I went to this one as he was the one I saw most often. He was a salesman and often called to visit my parents during the day. I thought he was so handsome.

My real, ie related, Uncle Jack was equally as nice, but maybe he wasn’t the one I was in love with at a few years old. Who knows? But he had a lovely heart and brushed off my childish error as though it didn’t matter. I had two Uncle Jacks. How to choose? I chose the one who came every day.

He belonged to the era when men in their 40s had heart attacks. And died. My parents described him as the eternal bachelor but he had got married by then and left a widow and three children. They said he should never have got married. Maybe not, or maybe he wanted the family for his own that my parents had made, instead of feeling an outsider – even though he wasn’t.

Either way, the only one who looks happy is the dog. Maybe the sun was in everyone else’s eyes?

Oh, Baby Roughseas is the one in the pram wearing the large bonnet. Very good sun protection I must say, mummy, thank you. I think I am looking at Uncle Jack.

Note: Inspired to post this one because of Vics Pics of the East Riding

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8 comments on “Baby roughseas in the north sea”

  1. Oh how I love looking at old photos, they always hold so many memories for the owners, and when they are shown with such a lovely detailed description as this one it makes them even more interesting. Wonderful!!

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    • Thanks V. That’s why I always set this up as a blog with a story behind the pic. Lovely to share pix when other people know the places.

      I couldn’t get over the scowly expressions though! Why did no one look happy apart from the dog?? 😦

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  2. i agree with Vicky – looking at old photos is enjoyable for me, too. even though i haven’t been here, and don’t know the people.
     
    the looks? i suspect it is the bright sun which tends to make people grimace, and appear to be unhappy even if they are not necessarily so (see the stark shadows on your non-uncle but uncle’s pants, or trousers i think you call them). you and Tarquin were the only two who thought to look away from it πŸ™‚
     
    that’s my theory.
     
    and speaking of your mom’s frock (called dress in my corner of the planet), it reminds me of one of my mom’s. hers was white or cream-coloured with a dusky pink floral print, if i remember correctly.
     
    i won’t offer to change the unknown stranger into a halo or something like that. who knows, maybe someone looking at your blog will uncover a long-lost relative. and for all you know, maybe you’re standing to inherit a couple of millions! better keep him walking right where he is πŸ˜€

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  3. Thanks C for your comments. I think the shadow is interesting, I’ve often glanced at that pic and thought he was wearing boots before I’ve realised it is shadow.

    My mum’s dress/frock was also a creamy background, and the flowers were a sort of deep apricot, sounds very similar to your mom’s.

    I do love the old photos too – anyone’s! I think I like them from the historical record perspective – things that have gone that can’t be replace – like all the adults on there, but also the buildings. I was gutted when the Pier Buffet was demolished 😦 Fashions, architecture, it’s all there in an old picture. Even better with a little commentary (IMO).

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  4. Old photos tell interesting stories. The more landscape and people in them, the better. Like yours…

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  5. So great you have this photo!

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