I Harry Dawes Picknett was born on September 27^th in the year 1900 at number seven South terrace or otherwise know as Fisherman Square. I was brought up as a fisherman with my other brothers, George, John, Charlie, Jossie and Tom. We also had three sisters Hannah, Laura and Lizzie. My Mother Hannah was always in bad health with asthma which made it difficult for her to work, so we all used to take turns to clean the house when we were not at sea. My Father William or ‘Whisper’ as he used to get called was a hard and strict man who was very well respected in this small fishing village of Redcar.

At that time we had several fishing boats and two large cobles. In the winter we used to fish for cod and haddock and attend to all the ships that came into difficulty on the rocks, of which I shall tell you later in this true-life story.

I went to Redcar’s Zetland School for my teaching, but my father never went to school. On a night when I finished school I used to help with jobs at home, feeding the pigs, attending to the horse, making long lines, opening mussels to bait the long lines and assisting to make lobster pots etc.

They were rough happy carefree days, even in wintertime. When I left school I was taken down to the sea and taught to take passengers out round the pier and back to the band stand, four pence for an adult and a penny for a child. We had four rowing boats they were called Jessie, Laura, Indus and Vincent. I used to be very happy on a nice summers day rowing all the four boats in a line around the small lakes that formed on the beach as the tide came in and out. At night if we had been busy during the day I used to get one and six pocket money of my dad, which was a small fortune in them days. We were always well of in the summer months taking people around the rocks and pier with the boats. Also on the evening between six thirty and eight thirty we used to take fishing parties out. Then we were always up early again at four in the morning to go mackerel fishing. When the shoals came in from the middle of July to mid September.

My first assistance of a ship was at south-gare breakwater to a ship called the ‘Bramman’ she had four thousand tons of iron-ore aboard. Everybody was working on the ship for a week unloading the ore in cane baskets and tubs then tipping it overboard into paddle tugs, which were assisting to unload her cargo. There were wires and anchors laid out by my father and brothers to secure the ship. It looked like a town lighted up by night when all the ships and tugboats lights where all on. The ship pounded and rolled on the rocks and trembled from end to end. Then after one week the unloaded ship at last came of the rocks and was taken to Smiths docks at South bank for repairs. All the fisherman who helped received ten sovereigns each for there service. My Uncle Tom who lived at the Zetland lifeboat house in the corner of King Street facing the sea paid out the money at his house.

The next adventure was a Finnish sailing ship. She was blown down the laid on to a reef of rocks called ‘High stone’ just off side the piers end. The ship was in full sail and looked lovely. All the decks where packed with planks of wood which we through over-board into the sea. This ship was re-floated on the next tide. I attend these two ships between 1912-1914.

The winter of 1912 was a very sad one for Redcar fishermen as there was a terrible storm when all the fishermen were out at sea earning there living. My father, Cecil Picknett’s father and my brother John where out in this storm. The boat and the three of them where washed ashore at Marske. While eight other fishermen out in the storm, drowned in this disaster. It was the worst tragedy I have known among the fisher-folk at Redcar.

In 1914 the war with Germany breaks out and I go fishing with Jacky Stonehouse and his brother David Stonehouse. They were very good mates and excellent fishermen too. All the fish caught off Redcar was controlled by the town in price, at twelve and six a stone. Jacky Stonehouse later took over the South-gare lifeboat as coxswain and stayed on until one of his grandsons took over from him.

We often had ships to attend to, as there were no buoy lights on a nighttime. Then on one night a trawler called ‘Lemberg’ became stranded on saltscar rocks and they took the rowing lifeboat out. The ship was burning tar barrels as flares. The next morning up rolls three German warships ‘Emden’ ‘Dreden’ and ‘Bluecher’ they were just one mile offside the trawler on the rocks. When they were broad side on they fired shells in Hartlepool destroying a great deal of the town and killing many people it was about eight on a Thursday morning when this happened. If ever a storm came in from the sea in these war days. The beaches were always covered with planks or bits from ships that had been sunk by submarines or lost in a storm.

While fishing one day out in the west bay a small seaplane came down, it had one boat shape in the centre and one boat shape on each wing. The pilot in the seaplane was alone so I pulled up anchor and rowed to the seaplane. It was about a quarter of a mile away. I spoke to him and he said he wanted towing to the breakwater. A small steam craft came and I took a rope to it. He towed him off and the man sat on the wing of the plane.

Then later on that summer of 1915 or 1916 an airplane came down in the sea off Marske and six or seven boats all rowing put out from Redcar. We rescued the pilot and also saved the plane from going to the bottom of the sea by putting rope around it and towing it ashore at Marske. There were hundreds of people watching on the beach as it was a fine Sunday afternoon and they pulled on the ropes and hauled it right up the beach to safety.

At the end of August, in the same year. I was watching a boat with a sail set, coming in across the rocks. There was a stormy sea and there were no boats out from Redcar. The tide was half down ebbing at the time so I went down to watch. It was part of a crew that had been torpedoed and some of them had bandages on their arms and heads. The police came and took them to the Coatham hotel. I stayed with the boat and got a pair of our beach wheels and helped in getting the boat out of the sea and to safety.

Then the zeppelin raids started. One crashed at Hartlepool and my brother George picked up one of its propeller blades. It was eight feet long polished mahogany and he took to the police station. Then after we were always getting bits of burnt twisted aluminium on our long lines in the winter from the zeppelins.

Another time while standing over the road, from where I now live. There was a bank down to the beach it was a foggy and damp drizzly day and there were great big bundles of paper pulp washing ashore and large mailbags full of postal orders. They must have been to make pulp with the rest, but they were all padlocked at the top. A little later we heard a ship blowing its Bunsen’s continually. So we put out in our coble as there was a strong southeasterly wind blowing and we rowed to where the paddling pool is now and saw a large ship ashore unloading this paper pulp. All the fishermen got employed and two days later it was re-floated.

Our next ship was called the ‘Spiral’ she was loaded with coal and became stranded on saltscar rocks, straight out from our house. The rowing lifeboat had big clappers on its wheels so that it would not sink into the sand and while launching the lifeboat to rescue the crew off the ship a girl called Frauden got killed under its wheels. This ship ended up a total wreck.

Our next trip was going fishing, but instead of fishing we ended up filling the boat with large boxes of candles all wrapped in blue paper, that were floating in the sea. It was a cargo from another ship that had been torpedoed.

By now we were getting out fishing when possible and getting ready for the summer again, to take out boat trips. We used to sell crabs for two and six for twenty that was a score to anyone. If we had any left I used to boil them and go round to peoples houses selling them in a basket. The dearest ones cost six pence.

Now the summer has started and I am back down the sands rowing people out and taking fishing parties out. Also getting plenty of tips and pocket money from my dad. I also used to get six pence each off some of the other boatmen, for pulling their boats up the beach with our horse.

Then I started courting a young servant girl called Ivy, who was in service a few doors down from where we live now, but I never dreamt that I would live in one of these big houses as I do today. I always thought they were for rich people not for the likes of me. Anyhow Ivy and myself kept seeing each other, going for walks and picnics together with friends, Maggie Micheal and Bob Nelson. We have had lots of happy days together and sad ones to, if we ever fell out with each other. As you know love can make anyone happy and also make you very sad too.

We often used to go to the pictures, of cause it was only four pence and eight pence top price. I would buy a quarter of chocolate liqueurs or a quarter of chocolate almonds to watch the movie with. Then a walk along the promenade to get an ice cream together.

They were all happy carefree days. Then later on, when I was allowed to date Ivy regularly. I used to go round her house for tea on Sunday’s at 25 Dale Street, near Marske and perhaps sometimes they would have cakes. I used to sit there and be pulled to pieces by all her sisters and little brother Harry, then the long walk home alone and to bed.