MY DARTMOUTH Clive Pearson
“T
he thing about penguins’ eggs is they taste a bit fishy if you just poach them or boil them. The white stays clear when you cook them, and the yolk is almost red – but they make great Swiss rolls!” When Clive Pearson’s culinary dabblings at home led his parents to demand that he be the only grammar school boy in Dartmouth to study cookery and domestic science in a class full of girls, little did he realise his aptitude for cooking would lead him to tackle the most unusual ingredients in the most southerly kitchen on the planet. Clive was born and brought up in Dartmouth, and now lives just a few yards from the house where he was born in Victoria Road. But his travels have taken him all over the world – giving Clive a great repertoire in stories!
It was in March 1935 that Clive’s
mother, Violet, walked from the family home in Victoria Road to her mother-in- law’s house a few doors up in Valetta Terrace, just days away from having her second baby.
“The path was pretty uneven, and Mum
tripped and broke her leg,” Clive explained. “Our house was up lots of steps, so Mum had to stay at Granny’s, and there I was born a few days later, with poor Mum’s leg up in a splint.”
There were eight brothers and sisters in all. Clive’s parents George and Violet Pearson met and married in Dartmouth, but their families hailed from further afield. George was from Liverpool, the son of a chef on the railways who brought his family to Dartmouth in 1916, drawn by a better rate of pay. Violet was born in London, the daughter of a Dartmouth man who had fled to the capital.
“My Grandfather worked as an ostler
at Norton Park, and got into terrible trouble with his employer after he moved a ladder, not realising it was used by his employer to get back into the house after visiting the girls in the servants quarters. He found work at a stable yard in London, married and had three children. But in 1912 his wife died of milk fever and my Grandfather was injured when a horse fell on him and broke both his legs. My mother was declared an orphan, and aged four she was brought to live with a great aunt in South Ford. The baby went
I grew up swimming in the Boat Float, playing in the fields, and going to church and Sunday school every week
to her grandparents in North Ford Road, and her other sister to a relation in Dittisham. The aunts were all from the Adams family, and I remember them as being very grand. “My Grandfather eventually recovered and made his way back to Dartmouth. He had married again by then and had a son, who I remember well. Sadly the lad was killed when the Noss shipyard was bombed.” George Pearson worked in the maintenance team at Britannia Royal Naval College, and was a keen rower. From a young age, Clive was a regular at the rowing club, swiftly learning about staying away from the water after stepping off the slipway and disappearing under the surface in his best toddler outfit. “My first memory is of being taken by my father to a flat field at the back of the headmaster’s house at the Naval College, from where we watched the launch of the RRS Research – a beautiful ship built at Noss. It was magnificent, white and lovely to look at, but it was never used. It was just before the war, which brought with it so many advances that afterwards the Research was declared obsolete and scrapped. It must have been awful for the men who built it. It would have made an amazing private yacht. “The second memory is of being held up to a very small window at the Dartmouth Amateur Rowing Club and watching the opening of Coronation Park. They cut a ribbon and all the children ran onto the grass. It was lovely to see – before that it was just a muddy pond.” Clive went to infants school in Higher Street, but things got off to a shaky start: “Part way through the morning the teacher said we could go, meaning we could get our drink of milk and have a wee, but all I heard was that we could go. I thought school was over so I walked home.”
Young Clive with his father
He enjoyed school days in Higher Street, then the boys’ school in Victoria Road and finally the Grammar School in Vicarage Hill. Clive remembers air raid shelters and water tanks for war time fire fighting being built at the boys’ school, and the cellars being reinforced so staff and children could take cover. He did well at grammar, maths and science but was caned frequently, “for the usual things – letting off stink bombs in class, throwing water over somebody.” It caused a stir when Clive’s
contd over 51
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84 |
Page 85 |
Page 86 |
Page 87 |
Page 88 |
Page 89 |
Page 90 |
Page 91 |
Page 92 |
Page 93 |
Page 94 |
Page 95 |
Page 96 |
Page 97 |
Page 98 |
Page 99 |
Page 100 |
Page 101 |
Page 102 |
Page 103 |
Page 104 |
Page 105 |
Page 106 |
Page 107 |
Page 108 |
Page 109 |
Page 110 |
Page 111 |
Page 112 |
Page 113 |
Page 114 |
Page 115 |
Page 116 |
Page 117 |
Page 118 |
Page 119 |
Page 120 |
Page 121 |
Page 122 |
Page 123 |
Page 124 |
Page 125 |
Page 126 |
Page 127 |
Page 128 |
Page 129 |
Page 130 |
Page 131 |
Page 132 |
Page 133 |
Page 134 |
Page 135 |
Page 136