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An Ode to Bollards
| Author: Barrie Youde | Published: 3rd April 2017 08:22 |
Barrie Youde, aka the Parkgate Poet, has written some words on the subject of the recent improvements to the Middle Slip on the Parade at Parkgate.
In days which are still comfortably within living memory, the Middle Slipway at Parkgate was the main landing point for the well-known fleet of shrimp-boats which belonged to the port and which trawled for their catch in Liverpool Bay. Siltation in the Dee Estuary in recent years made the Slipway all but inaccessible some time ago and, with lack of use, it fell into disrepair. The most worthy efforts have been seen recently to give the slipway at least a psychological uplift; and the installation of a wooden-hulled Hilbre class sailing-boat, complete with a cargo of colourful flowers (all by courtesy of The Parkgate Society in concert with Marsh Nurseries) has created a most welcome improvement.
Even more recently, within the last few weeks, those to whom we pay our Council Tax have made further efforts at cosmetic improvement by other works including the installation of ornamental bollards. The bollards at the top of the slipway are removable, thus ensuring that the slipway might, just might, remain usable for its intended purpose. Alas and Alack, for reasons best known to those who conceived the idea, fixed bollards set firmly in concrete have been installed at the seaward end of the slipway, thus ensuring that the ghost of any long-lost shrimper returning to Parkgate at last on a high spring tide, running for home with a north-westerly gale behind him, will find his home-port far from welcoming but firmly closed to him.
BOLLARDS ON THE SLIPWAY AT PARKGATE
The Port is closed, alas, alack, with bollards on the slipway.
Not long ago, not too far back, it was a busy shipway,
When shrimps were landed, on the tide, from fleet of many vessels,
For market stalls, on sale with pride: Fishmongers at their trestles.
And yes, there was a ferry service, to the Emerald Isle;
For passengers, the bold, the nervous - unseen for a while:
And trade was in the Estuary, to places overseas:
All lived, most worked and most made merry: Others took their ease.
The Chester Mail would rattle down; A four-in-hand or six;
The Coachman on his box, sun-brown: Postillion at his tricks:
"Welcome to the George Hotel" calls Ostler, taking charge
Of horses, food and drink as well, with bonhomie at large.
"At ease, take rest and bide awhile upon your travel-track!"
Backhanders touted, with a smile. "Will you be coming back?"
The Custom House and Watch House marked this place of some renown,
With Coastguards giving service and protection to the Crown.
And then there came the Railway. Later still the Crosville bus.
And all the while the Sands of Dee encroached, encroached on us.
And all the while the profits from the sea were getting shorter.
The greater swathes of sand created lesser swathes of water.
Gone the ships and gone the ferry-passengers, gone by:
Alone the fisherfolk would put to sea. Now hear them cry,
"The Port is closed, alas, alack, with bollards on the slipway.
Not long ago, not too far back, it was a busy shipway."
BY
31.03.2017
The photo below, from David Johnson, shows the bollards on the Middle Slip, adorned with a sign placed on April 1st by an unknown prankster.
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